leaving situations I don’t feel like I deserve to be in
seeing my reflection, unexpectedlyfacebook, for reminding me of a very different time in life
making mountains appear in flat urban areas
laughing out loud in public
aj’s impromptu drawing sessionsthe vent to my sidewalk that blows warm air that smells like fresh laundryflowers that bloom and die at the same time friends who’s jobs involve picking noses.
light houses. This one in Ohio may be my favorite one.
New York is a bit of a city made for masochist. The best places in the city are the gritty ones with questionable food ethics and seemingly morose employees. Katz deli is one of these places. You walk into Katz and some disgruntled man slouched onto a stool hands you a ticket with a list of numbers on it and no explanation.  What they are NOT telling you when they hand you this ticket is:
you hand it to the person who makes your food, and they hand it back to you with the total on it.
if you lose this ticket, you get charged 50 bucks.
this “lost ticket fee” was instilled about 10 years ago.
You choose the person you want to make your sandwich, and they chop the meat in front of you, and give you a sample of the fresh meat while you wait. I always try to find the oldest guy because he’s usually the biggest asshole who makes the best sandwich.
Although the sandwiches are a bit pricey (15-17 dollars a pop) I bet you can’t get through half of one without wanting to die a little inside. As a meat eater and a lover of irrelevant history, this is one of my favorite New York establishments.
I’m a total coffee snob. I drink it black, so that usually means I can taste all of its imperfections. If its burnt, old, ect.
Heres some tips on how to make a perfect cup of coffee.
Grind:
Should be fine enough to allow water to pass through coffee grounds without overflow.
If you’re able to access a proper coffee shop, just ask them to ground it for whatever coffee chachkaa you use. (meletia cup, drip, french press, ect)
Measure:
Start with two level tablespoons for every 6 oz cup; adjust to your taste
Water:
Water should be sweet, without excessive minerals or salt. Use spring water, if you’re not sure.
Temperature:
190 Fahrenheit
The water should never be brought to a boil, because it’ll burn the coffee.
Storing:
Good coffee will stay fresh for 2 weeks if kept air tight and away from moisture condensation.
Those waxy paper bags with the twist tie on top, that the coffee usually comes in? yeah. those work just dandy just as long as you squeeze out all excess air. and tightly close it.
February means the saddest excuse for a holiday, is upon us. Valentines day. If your heart is as jaded as mine, then perhaps you will enjoy my craft project for this Make Monday. A little black heart pin for you or one of your mutually bitter single friends.
Its Thursday! The day that I have started collecting photos I’ve taken through out the week, because they relate to things that I love about life. Such as:
The guy who plays songs from Amelie in the 14th street station.
people who enjoy their jobs
drinking coffee on a tree
using long exposure to give me the power of invisibility
that some of the most important items in my life, right now, weigh less than my dog.
my dog
eating meals with friends
gingers. (They’re apparently the new black.)
making a barricade of beverages
having my blog on the front page of wordpress.com!
My all time favorite breakfast treat is the cinnamon bun. I grew up eating those Pillsbury ones in the airtight tubes that you had to whack against the counter to get open.
I had a friend whos mom, would place them in a pie tin and they would expand. Being what I thought cinnamon buns should be, this was illusive concept to me. I only ate them once and have been trying to find ones that compare, ever since.
Heres what ruins anything that has ever come close to those homemade cinnamon buns that I have spent a lifetime dreaming about:
the weak cinnamon to bun ratio
not enough frosting
raisins. gross. Why do people find the need to add pruned grapes to something so perfect?
I realized that in order to do something right, I would just have to do it myself. Baking with yeast is still pretty new to me, so I was a bit scared of it. My baker dad informed me that yeast and humans live comfortably in the same temperatures:
If you add yeast to something that is about the same temperature as a warm bathtub, it’ll flourish.
If you add it to a liquid that is too hot, you’ll kill it.
If you add it to something cold, it’ll hold out on expanding until the temperature is warm enough or it’ll just take longer.
With this, I began skimming through cinnamon bun recipes, plucking what I liked about each one to concoct my idea of the perfect cinnamon bun.
It was so good, that my appetite almost didn’t give me time to take a good photo of the final product.
having people in my life who will put on my clothes, and those who will take a train out of their way just to make me smile.
getting exercise by being ridiculous
when a row of photos I’ve taken come up in a row on Facebook.
honorable mentions:
Being stopped at the metal detector at the passport office, for a bottle of hot sauce in my purse. “Boss, is this considered a drink?” “Only if she’s Jamaican.”
I used to be really intimidated by popcorn. Thats right…..popcorn.
The thought of making it outside of those pre-buttered microwave bags or pre-buttered aluminum tins, seemed impossible. I thought I hated popcorn, but turns out that I just hated that weird butter. Ever since someone showed me how easy making your own popcorn could be, I’ve been eating it pretty much every day.
My teeth may hate me for saying this, but I LOVE popcorn! I love it so much that over the summer, I’ve tried 12 different kernels and several kinds of salts to add to them. After extensive research, my favorite popcorn combo is the plain ole’ popcorn drizzled with chocolate and sprinkled with corse salt.
Turns out its really simple to make!
Start by heating up a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil in a large pot with about a cup of popcorn kernels.
when one starts to pop, put a lid on the pot while occasionally shaking the pot to make sure all of the kernels are getting heated at the bottom of the pot.
Keep the heat on until there  is 2-3 seconds between popping sounds.
This week, I’ve started coming to terms with the fact that if I don’t write things down, I’ll forget about them. Yes. I’m getting old.
SO, Â for this edition of Make Monday, I thought it would be a pretty good idea to keep a pocket notebook handy. Â This not only will help me remember who I’m supposed to meet up with but will also help me get rid of some stationary scraps
Remember when Audrey Hepburn tossed that cat out of the cab, at the end of Breakfast at Tiffanys, as some sort of romantic display of freedom? Have you ever wondered what would have happened to that thing if George Peppard hadn’t put her in her place, and gone looking for it? I think I came across the grim result of what may have happened to Cat, if someone other than Capote had written the story.
I was walking to the subway from my house faster that usual, to avoid the cold any more than I had to, when this little guy slowly limped into the middle of the street and took a seat. I quickly snapped a photo of its black silhouette in the middle of the isolated snow white road and then realized that it was in really bad shape. I got closer, and took a more detailed shot.
Due to my hatred for cats, I kind of said “poor dude” and walked on. Then guilt set in. I thought of how horrible it must be to need help, and have someone document your pain as amusement. I realized that if I left, I would never be able to look at the photographs of this cat without a voice in the back of my head reminding me that this was the shot that represented me being a bad person. Someone heartless enough to walk away from something that needed help.
I turned around and went back to the cat just before it just rammed by a semi truck. I scooted it to the side of the road, called animal control to come and pick it up, and waited around for a bit listening to it wheezing for air.
I was hoping that by crossing a black cats path, and going beck to help it, would be good luck for me. Unfortunately though, I was told that I only absorb one of its lives. So when you see me crawling around at the age of 150, it has something to do with this photo.
I used to do a “Things I Love Thursday”, except I guess I called it ohJoy…and it wasn’t usually on a thursday.
It was just a list of things I loved about life, when things were really bringing me down. Unfortunetly, it would take me so much time to think up enough things to love about life, that it was a rarely done.
This year, I’m going to try to make a goal of just being able to write down and take photos of more positive things, more often.
Heres a list of things I’ve loved about 2011, thus far.
fish cakes in my ramen
letting my hair grow
waking up next to a cuddly dog
real friends who dress like imaginary friends
having my hair done on an otherwise average day.
fresh challah bread from the bakery to make french toast (with nutella)
bubbles in my coffee
finding interior in inspiration in unlikely places. (my future bathroom will soon look like the locker room from Shutter Island)
food wrapped like presents.
weekly family dinner nights
Seeing this guy who is obviously from the abortion ad on the train, stand around with his girlfriend, uncomfortably.
having the first meal of the new year, with some of my favorite people.
This song because it’s beautiful.
“He always sounded like he was drinking champagne on a train and wise to the ways of the world.”
-Tom Waits talking about Teddy Edwards. (Also beautiful.)
other honorable mentions:
strangers saying “happy new year” in passing, all over New York
snowball fights
when friends from different parts of my life, end up becoming friends
extra olives in martinis
japanese eraser toys
Putting Annie Hall on repeat while I’m sick in bed. I’ll pass out and wake up to something that makes me smile, no matter what part of the movie is playing.
being reminded that I’m missed
Pushing Daisies or any program that involves narrative story telling, for that matter. Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, lemony snicket’s a series of unfortunate events, ect…
the absurdly bright red wall I pass on my way to the train, every day.
rescuing more plants than I know what to do with
instant results
sprinkles!
buy back drinks from Max Fish
this visual list of 1960’s Japanese cartoons
extra long shoe laces
leaving situations I don’t feel like I deserve to be in
seeing my reflection, unexpectedly
facebook, for reminding me of a very different time in life
making mountains appear in flat urban areas
laughing out loud in public
aj’s impromptu drawing sessions
the vent to my sidewalk that blows warm air that smells like fresh laundry
flowers that bloom and die at the same time
friends who’s jobs involve picking noses.
light houses. This one in Ohio may be my favorite one.
New York is a bit of a city made for masochist. The best places in the city are the gritty ones with questionable food ethics and seemingly morose employees. 
You choose the person you want to make your sandwich, and they chop the meat in front of you, and give you a sample of the fresh meat while you wait. I always try to find the oldest guy because he’s usually the biggest asshole who makes the best sandwich.
As a meat eater and a lover of irrelevant history, this is one of my favorite New York establishments.
February means the saddest excuse for a holiday, is upon us. Valentines day. If your heart is as jaded as mine, then perhaps you will enjoy my craft project for this 
The guy who plays songs from Amelie in the 14th street station.
people who enjoy their jobs
drinking coffee on a tree
using long exposure to give me the power of invisibility
that some of the most important items in my life, right now, weigh less than my dog.
my dog
eating meals with friends
gingers. (They’re apparently the new black.)
making a barricade of beverages
having my blog on the front page of wordpress.com!
feeling like one of those people who starts looking like their dog 
turning people into cartoons while helping make things for their
when eve the snow wants to get out of the cold
big sandwiches made by old polish women
My all time favorite breakfast treat is the cinnamon bun. I grew up eating those Pillsbury ones in the airtight tubes that you had to whack against the counter to get open.
It was so good, that my appetite almost didn’t give me time to take a good photo of the final product.
Things I love about Billy Ocean, as we celebrate his birthday, today:
Puppy distractions
friendship distractions
getting ‘shotgun’ when it really makes a diffrence
seeing situations from a different perspective
sewing my finger into the sewing machine….
because it resulted in the purchase of these adorable bandaids!!!
leaving slightly comical/ passive aggressive notes
having people in my life who will put on my clothes, and those who will take a train out of their way just to make me smile.
getting exercise by being ridiculous
when a row of photos I’ve taken come up in a row on Facebook.
Start by heating up a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil in a large pot with about a cup of popcorn kernels.
Keep the heat on until there  is 2-3 seconds between popping sounds.
people who act like cartoon characters
dogs, too
people who take photos of others without the fear of rejection
disregard for the restrictions of weather
(wo)man eating refrigerators
saving money by making my own bread
using said bread to make the perfect sandwich
Galas refusal to admit that we’re too old to fit on the toddler swings.
redneck martini shakers
Lilian Caruanas Punks & Skinheads 
my grocery store, for keeping their Christmas decorations up year round
making cookies that are bigger than my head
snow!
fresh uni
drawings in unlikely places
learning about onigiri with the help of rice ball drawings
watching Looney Tunes and drinking coffee in a basement, every Sunday
new friends hanging out with old ones. Apparently one is silver, and the other is gold.
taking off my pants when I think they make me look fat
and unused paper in my archived journals.
I was walking to the subway from my house faster that usual, to avoid the cold any more than I had to, when this little guy slowly limped into the middle of the street and took a seat. I quickly snapped a photo of its black silhouette in the middle of the isolated snow white road and then realized that it was in really bad shape. I got closer, and took a more detailed shot.
I used to do a “Things I Love Thursday”, except I guess I called it 
fish cakes in my ramen
letting my hair grow
waking up next to a cuddly dog
real friends who dress like imaginary friends
having my hair done on an otherwise average day.
fresh challah bread from the bakery to make french toast (with nutella)
bubbles in my coffee
finding interior in inspiration in unlikely places. (my future bathroom will soon look like the locker room from Shutter Island)
food wrapped like presents.
weekly family dinner nights
Seeing this guy who is obviously from the abortion ad on the train, stand around with his girlfriend, uncomfortably.
having the first meal of the new year, with some of my favorite people.
Shoplifting in a Ghost Town 