Ok, I have not wanted to post about my love for Back to Nature's new little microwavable macaroni and cheese in a cup things. One, because I am really against any sort of packaged or processed foods. And two, because I am also against microwaves. (They fall into the "unnecessary appliance that takes up better used space" category.) So, when I saw them on sale in Greene Deli a week ago, I was torn. Do I buy them for lunches at work, or do I dutifully bring in my homemade frozen mac + cheese and thaw it out, instead, for a more nutritious meal? Obviously, the convenience factor won out, I am a little embarrassed to admit.
So I thought that I could not tell anyone about it. That way no one would know that I eat junk like this — and enjoy it. But you know what? These taste so good! Seriously. I am stunned about how delicious they are. So, even though I tried to hold out and ignore that they make me happy, I can't deny it. Pre-packed, processed mac + cheese in a cup has frankly made my day a whole lot nicer. It was warm, and cozy, and only 210 calories, should you care about this sort of thing. And the list of scary ingredients was not all that scary.
This morning as I walked to the subway, I saw some pinecones out the corner of my eye, on the sidewalk. "Pinecones?" I thought to myself, "Who sees pinecones in Brooklyn?" I was actually quite excited because I could not remember the last time I had seen a real pinecone — you know, one that had actually fallen off a real live tree on its own accord. These specimen in particular were really perfect looking; big and fat, with no rotted or moldy pinecone-y things.
I was thinking how nice it was to be reassured that all the things of my youth had not been forced into extinction — the way that soda in glass bottles, eight to a carton, had seemingly vanished one night (to be replaced by two liter bottles). I was enjoying my little nature hike down South Oxford, and then as I was about to put the pinecones into my book bag, I noticed that two of them had been wired together. So apparently these pinecones did not fall from any tree on South Portland — which makes sense since there are no living pine tree around for miles — instead they probably fell off the Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church christmas tree, when it was put on the curb for chipping.
Kenny and I at dinner last night at the Modern — Danny Meyer's restaurant at the MoMA. While we were eating dinner, we could watch part of Doug Aitken's Sleepwalkers being projected onto multiple sides of the building's courtyard. This was extremely cool and for some reason, it made me feel like we were dining in Tokyo. Since we opted for the Chef Tasting Menu (the food was all quite dainty and perfectly presented), perhaps the food helped give it that Lost in Translation feeling. Whatever the reason, it is such a splendid thing to feel as if you have gone on vacation, without even having to leave Manhattan. For one thing, there is no jet lag. And then as we ate, it began to softly snow, which just added to the delightfulness of the evening. Oh, and when we left, they gave us a teacake for breakfast! How awesome is that?
This afternoon, I was in a very crabby mood and I really needed to snap out of it, so I decided to have lunch at 'wichcraft to cheer me up. There was no tomato soup (my favorite) on the menu, so I opted for the lentil — to stay. And since I have not eaten in at 'wichcraft in a long time, I had no idea that they now serve to stay soup in a real bowl. Well, to my delight, my soup came in a very nice little green bowl. I started to perk up. I also decided to buy a slice of the gingerbread loaf, as cheerful-ness backup plan. As I sat down to eat my soup, Price's Raspberry Beret began to play in the café area — this is one of my all-time favorite songs by Prince. I memorized all of the lyrics when I was in fifth grade — when the album came out (on tape) — and have never forgot them. And then Tom Petty's Free Fallin' came on. And although I bet no one would think I would really like Tom Petty, I secretly do. I have always regretted selling Full Moon Fever back to the Record Exchange in college for the extra cash. Anyway, so I am sitting there eating my warm and yummy soup, listening to Price and Tom Petty, knowing that I have a piece of gingerbread for dessert, and I begin to read an article in the February issue of Yoga Journal that talks about learning to surrender to yourself. Since I am the kind of person who tenaciously holds on to something, even if it's a lousy idea, a bad mood, whatever, I love it when I can finally let go — that act letting go is really such a relief. And like twenty minutes later, I realized that my really bad mood was completely gone. In fact, I felt really so relaxed and happy. And so, the lesson learned here is, whenever you feel really vile — eat some soup at 'wichcraft....
Tonight was a Netflix night. I came home from work and Good bye, Lenin! was waiting for me on the kitchen table. I saw this movie about a year or two ago with Kenny, and I remember I cried at the end because it was so sad. Tonight, I watched it all through dinner, Kenny went to bed, and I still was watching. It just ended, now. And despite it being sad, I absolutely love this film. I love the pursuit for the Spreewald pickles, and the tragic-ness of Ariane telling her dad to "Enjoy your meal and thank you for choosing Burger King." And the moment when Alex sees his childhood cosmonaut hero driving a taxi — Wolfgang Becker (the director) made the notion of how fast things can change without you even realizing it, feel so real.
Unfortunately, I am now stuck in that feeling that occurs after watching a really terrific film. It's like if I move too suddenly, the movie-euphoria will vanish, and I will be left with the reality that I still have to take my shower, my stomach still hurts from lunch, and I have like 40 million things I have to do before I sleep.
Elizabeth and I went for a walk in Prospect Park this morning. On the way to her car to go get breakfast (at Flatbush Farm), we passed a house with many little signs stuck into the flowerbeds beneath the hedges. Aimed at dog owners who let their dogs urinate on other peoples' gardens (and thus killing their plants), this home owner made the above sign, perhaps hoping to appeal to a dog owner's sense of morality. And although I don't own a dog — even if I did I would never let it pee on someone's yard — I like the idea of someone reminding me, kindly, to be nice. Sometimes, we all need a little reminder. Or at least, I know that I do.
Every once in awhile, I would like to pretend that we are those type of people who go to clubs until dawn every weekend, drinking Cristal and hanging out with with fabulous diamond-encrusted, Bentley-driving bling-blingers. However, as you can tell from the above photo, we are not those people.
Instead, our idea of a rockin' Saturday night is to get take-away from the Smoke Joint on South Elliot, eat homemade popcorn in our jammies, and watch the Saturday night movie on ABC.
Today, in an effort to combat the cold weather, I have bundled up to extreme measures, in my warmest winter weather gear. Oddly enough, all of these items hail from either Sweden or Japan — which either says something about these two countries knowing how to bundle up, or it reflects my love of all things Scandinavian and Japanese. Hmm.
There is my re-striped hat, from Yllet in Gotland but which I found at the Beams near Shinjuku, that flattens my hair into oblivion. And my black felted wool scarf from Pia Wallen, that I bought at that now defunct design store that used to be on Franklin Street. And my bling-bling faux fur coat from Uniqlo. And then I tied aanother black wool scarf around my hood to hold it all together. I could barely walk down the street, I was so trussed up. But I was incredibly cozy! So I say, bring on the cold weather because I am all set.
Kenny sent me a video of him playing basketball on his Tuesday Night NRF league — something affliated with Nike (which means they get cool jerseys). He is number 2, and check out his fancy dribble work and the nice basket at the end.
Kate left me surprise package of fabric on my doorstep!
Dana sent me an addendum to the most heartfelt thank you note!
...to have such amazing friends in my life. Really. There is not a day that does not go by where I do not thank someone high up there, for gracing me with the most splendidly thoughtful, kind and loving friends. I am hands down, the luckiest girl, alive. I am so touched. I mean, how often do you get to come home to handwritten thank you notes and sweet packages from your friends?
Thank you, Kate, Dana, you both totally made my day end on such a high note.
I was on Mi, a name I call myself and saw that she had a link to the Save Gocco site. It seems like the makers of Gocco have decided to stop distributing it in the United States, leaving many crafters both saddened and frustrated. Since I am particularly attached to my own Gocco, and the thought of not ever being able to find supplies for it again makes me sad, I thought I would post this. Everyone do your part and spread the love and spread the word: Gocco is awesome.
This morning, Hafeez sent me a link to Fresh Pics, where Guido Daniele's hand-painted animal hands were featured as the cool pics for Monday (click here for the link). In addition to painting animals onto hands for such clients as Animal Planets and zoos and stuff, (amongst other things) Guido also paints flora and fauna onto nude bodies — which could come in super handy should you want to blend into a tropical bush while on vacation in the Caribbean.
I am totally loving the fact that this guy has such a specific niche, like he's known as that guy who paints hyper-realistic drawings of animals and tropical plants on people's bodies.
I am wondering what my niche is going to be. Am I going to be known as the girl who makes cakes with smiley faces made out of sprinkles? That is not as cool as the guy who paints animals on hands. I could make sculptures out of colored pencils, like Jennifer Maestre. Seriously, what particular thing am I good at that no one else is? I am trying to find that one thing — and then I can quit my day job, work from home in my jammies, and watch Oprah at 4pm once in awhile. However, this might take awhile to figure out. When I know, I will let you all know.
If I could have an electric car, I would be a really happy person. Really, really happy. Seriously. While I was busy becoming a grown-up who could actually be able to own a real car — GM, Honda and Toyota literally squashed all of the electric cars in the entire United States. Somehow, I missed the whole electric car phase, and now it's too late! So all I am asking is: Please, I would like an electric car.
Tonight, I came home from yoga class, and immediately sat down to watch my newest Netflix arrival, "Who Killed the Electric Car," which Mitch had told me he saw over the Christmas holidays. And while the movie actually made me so angry that I am now extremely crabby, and wishing that we lived in a place like Canada, there was something about the movie that made me really happy, as well. Or perhaps the right word would be motivated.
I have never been the type of person who pickets things, or protests, or in general really does anything civic minded other than perhaps voting in the presidential election. I don't usually care about a lot of stuff that is not laying in the general path of my little life. However, as I lay on the couch slurping cold pea soup, I felt like this movie was a turning point. My yoga teacher mentioned that because we did all sorts of backbends in class this evening we might feel invigorated, or "stirred up" I think was her direct quote. But the backbends, coupled with the movie, is making me want to write all sorts of pro-active letters to everyone who killed this initiative and then sat there and lied about the reasons. I am more than "stirred up." I feel like turning into An Inconvenient Truth type of environmentalist; that is how I feel. Like I want to quite my job being a designer, and go work for those people at Move On, who incidentally send me like a million emails a week.
Unfortunately, I also really tired from yoga class and it is now past midnight, so I have decided instead of writing letters to the president of GM, my first step towards doing the right thing for the environment — besides turning off the tv when we are not watching it, and not using any petroleum-based products — is to permanently park our eggplant purple Honda. So from now on, Kenny and I will be riding our bikes — until the electric car makes its comeback. Hopefully, this will be soon.
Since we still do not have a Sprinkles in Brooklyn, despite my emails to them (although apparently one is coming soon according to their website), I have decided that I will bake my loved ones Sprinkles-inspired cupcakes for Valentine's Day. You know, sometimes its nice to live in fantasy-land. If we don't have a Sprinkles close by, well then, we can pretend! I am down for making Belgian dark chocolate cupcakes filled with "gooey" marshmallow filling and glazed with bittersweet Belgian chocolate ganache. And red velvet cupcakes topped with spicy cinnamon frosting.
Lara, maybe we could make the cupcakes and the Cherry Pecan Linzer cookies from this month's Martha Stewart...
I just saw this very cute mushroom kitchen timer on a site called Modcloth. It is from a company called Cram Cream (I am sure I have seen their stuff before), whose sole mission is to make cute, smiling faced, happy products like flip flops, breakfast plates, backpacks, tote bags, and soap dispensers. Googling Cram Cream brought me to all sorts of fascinatingly bizzare sites like Pancake Meow — home of The Original Scented Jewelry! (huh?) Or the We Love Cram Cream community group, where everyone buys and sells everyone else's Cram Cream stuff. And the best was Colorful Cute, whose name says it all. However, I must warn you, the Molle Hedgehog tape is sold out.
I stumbled across a lovely blog titled Here & There and found this picture of eggs being hard boiled in an onsen at the Kusatsu Onsen Resort, which is located a little north-west of Tokyo. (Since my Japanese is completely limited in its understanding, I can only gather that Soona went to Kusatsu for her winter holiday.) I encountered this eggs-cooking-in-the-bath thing when I was in Korea and saw huge crates of eggs baking in that little igloo domed sauna that gets to be like 200ºF. For some reason, the baking eggs freaked me out a bit, as I then imagined my lungs baking into little raisins. But the above image somehow is much more appealing, in its serene-ness. Perhaps because it's outdoors? Either way, I have decided that we must go to the place subtitled, "Not Just Another Spa Resort in Japan," the next time we are in Japan. And hopefully, this will be soon.
As I was eating a grapefruit, a holiday package arrived from Sarah. It turned out to be this nifty cup-saucer-spoon set that all fits together perfectly. There is some sort of great satisfaction that I derive from putting things into the perfectly fitting place — nothing sticking out, everything fitting just so. (I think this is why small kids stick peas up their noses — because they just fit so perfectly in there.) So, of course I immediately stuck my grapefruit into the cup, and violá! A grapefruit in a cup!
This afternoon, Susanna brought over a really yummy green pea soup that she made herself in the blender, and we ate it with bread, honey, cheddar, and some Fuji apple slices. It was a perfectly delightful lunch!
This weekend is Kate's birthday, so I decided to bake her a cake. This was prompted by the fact that her mother-in-law, Judy, posted a comment to my blog letting me know that she had a great Mexican Chocolate Cake recipe. So I thought it would be fun to bake it for Kate's birthday! I followed the recipe almost exactly, exact for when it called for using a 15" x 13" pan. I don't really like flat little cakes, so I opted for the 8" square pan instead. I also floured the pan with cocoa, not flour, and then I baked it for an additional 25 minutes, after lowering the heat to 350ºF. And since the cake had cinnamon in it, I thought that cinnamon red-hots would be ideal to add some zing, since I decided not to veer of the recipe path and add ancho chiles. That will be next time.
Happy Birthday, Kate!
ps...Judy, Sandy, everyone loved your cake recipe! I even remembered the strawberries. And Doug served it straight from the freezer. Pictures from the party can be seen, here.
After the Container Store, we hopped in the car and went to the New Jersey, to visit Ikea. I had this idea that we could quickly zip in, pick up three Pax wardrobes, and zip out in less that 30 minutes. Well, Ikea was ridiculously crowded, so there was no in-and-out anything. The choices for the Pax were overwhelming, all with scary finishes. Glossy white? Oak with coutntry handles? None were paintable, and neither were they inexpensive for what they were, which was basically laminate adhered to MDF. So we stopped in the Snack Shop, to ensure that our visit to Ikea was not totally a waste. I went nuts and stocked up on all sorts of Swedish carbohydrates — particularly my favorite, the knäckebröd. I also purchased three pacakges of Bilar, which are best described as stale marshmallow-flavored candies shaped like cars. And they are really, really good.
Kenny and I went to the Container Store today to take advantage of their Elfa sale — everything is 30% off. We decided to Elfa all of the closets in our new house before we even move in — it is one of the things that is helping me to become excited about our new apartment. The closet planning took awhile at the store, as the sales person plotted our closet spaces on this extremely nifty software, in three dimensions — which sure beats those graph paper note pads that they were using three years ago. Kenny got hot, so he took off his coat, and hung it among the clothes in the closet display that was surrounding us. A few minutes later, another guy did the same thing. For some reason, this stuck me as really funny.
Today, Kenny woke me up this morning by saying, "It snowed last night." I could tell by the light in the bedroom — that bluish-white snow light — and when I rolled over to look out the window, I could see fat flakes falling down in the backyard. There is something very thrilling about the first snow of the season that sticks to the ground. Honestly, I felt like it was Christmas morning. I sort of expected to see presents under the tree when I came out to the living room in my pajamas; instead I saw a pile of laundry that I needed take to the dry cleaner. But it was a nice feeling to wake up to, that it-could-be-Christmas-but-its-not-December sort of feeling. And there is something so peaceful about walking down the street as it snows. You can hear it softly falling onto the sidewalk, and every so often there is a big whoosh as a clump of wet snow falls out of a tree onto the street.
I saw a kid carrying a gigantic snowball (like the size of a boulder) past my house, as I left for work. Thankfully, he did not throw it at me.
This is a photo of my neighbor Doug as a child, with his grandfather, Pop Pop Stanton. Sir, this picture is for you. Doug and Kate have told Kenny and I what a wonderful person you are — and since I have no more grandfathers left, I am mentally adopting you as one. Please know that there is no pressure with this though, on your end. I will just be sending you good thoughts and well wishes, and every so often you might think to yourself, "Wait, I think I just felt a good thought from Aimee!"
And by the way, I think my Grandpa Sam had the same glasses.
Today, my paperwhites bloomed!!! I knew that they would bloom overnight, which of course, they did. And consequently, I could not stop sniffing them all day long. It was like they had some sort of hypnotic smell over me. Honestly, a blooming plant is almost the next best thing to having a pet.
Last week, a package arrived in the mail for me — my mom had sent Kenny and I a pot of paperwhite narcissus bulbs in some dirt, for our third wedding anniversary. For those of you who did not come to our wedding, these were the flowers we had on every table — bulbs sprouting from white Ikea pots tied with white grosgrain ribbon.
Anyway, I watered the bulbs and placed them on a desk next to both the radiator and the window. Somehow the combination of freezing cold and blistering hot combined to create what appears to be the optimal growing environment for paperwhite bulbs. I know this, because they are growing out of control. In fact, if we look at them long enough, we can see them growing. Seriously.
I am so excited for them to bloom! I keep watching them expectantly. However, I have a feeling that they are going to flower during the night, when we are not here to watch it happen. Perhaps they are shy.
In a concerted effort to focus on being cheerful and upbeat this afternoon, I made a Post-it® note list of some things I could potentially be happy about. The list is short and could be viewed as being rather pathetic. But hey, tomorrow is a new day, with a new list. In case you want to try to convince yourself of your own tentative happiness, then perhaps telling yourself, "I am happy!" in Japanese might do the trick. If so, then see below.
Tonight Kate came over to our new apartment to give us some advice about what to do with it. She was so great — I now feel like we have so many options. We can paint our window frames, people! We are NOT stuck with green framed windows! And our cheery cherry cabinets? We can paint those, too! In fact, we can paint almost everything (well, except that Kate recommended not painting the floor), and it will all become Benjamin Moore Super White 02, and it will feel like we live inside of a laboratory clean room. Yay! My dream come true!
For real though, I had never thought we could paint those window frames. I honestly thought that I would have to accept the windows the way that they are. Finding out that it is entirely possible to paint them, well, its like a whole new set of options opened up for us. By the end of our mini-consulation, I was day dreaming about white lacquered bathroom walls. I might even be excited about the new apartment. Seriously.
Since he was off of work for Martin Luther King Day, we decided to meet for lunch — at my favorite lunchtime spot. (Le Pain Quotidien, of course. ) We always say that we need to meet so we can catch up, but somehow our lunches together are more like an annual thing, instead of every month or two. Hafeez had the Paris ham sandwich with three mustards and I had the minestrone soup with two slices of spelt bread absolutely covered with hazelnut spread.
Today I had to go to work, despite it being Martin Luther King Day. The only upside to not commemorating Marting Luther King, Jr. and his promotion of nonviolence and equal treatment for different races, was the fact that apparently the entire city of New York was sleeping in as I commuted to work. I know this because I was the only person riding on the 1 train this morning during rush hour. Seriously.
I really love a good peanut butter and jam sandwich. And consequently, there are many days when I order that very sandwich from 'Wichcraft for breakfast — because it is so filling, I am never hungry for lunch on those days.
Today, I was reading Food & Wine's February issue and came across a small blurb about We Love Jam's very special apricot jam (which is my favorite flavor) made from Blenheim apricots. Because these particular apricots come from one very old tree on We Love Jam's farm, and because it is labeled as an endangered fruit according to Slow Food USA, We Love Jam only makes like 100 jars a season. So they have taken to making jam with their neighbor's Blenheim apricots, when they use up all of their own apricots. If you love apricot jam, then you are in luck, because We Love Jam is still taking orders for their summer crop, at least I hope so because I just emailed them my request (contact@welovejam.com).
There are two sizes: a half pint for $8 and a pint for $16, and due to limited supply, each order can be either one pint or two half pints. Meaning, there can be no greedy apricot jam eaters, in order for there to be jam for the rest of us. But since the jam is not available until summer, they will put you on a waiting list for this summer's crop. And then they will email you when summertime arrives, so you can purchase your very own jar of We Love Jam. For yourself. Or to share with your closest loved ones, if you are feeling generous.
To go with your We Love Jam, you should check out Peanut Butter & Co.'s Crunch Time super crunchy peanut butter. Or if you live in New York City, you can just go to their café at 240 Sullivan Street.
Today we had brunch at Rich and Chloe's house. Chloe had covered the entire dining room table in what appeared to be a Scandinavian-Jewish feast: blintzes, bagels, bialys, broiche (so many B's!); herring in cream, tofu cream cheese, scallion cream cheese, three jams and a jar of Nutella, scones, blood oranges and grapefruits, yoghurt, fresh blueberries and blackberries, and fresh orange juice. Needless to say, we all ate until we were stuffed. And then we had some tea and ate some chocolate covered cherries.
After breakfast, we went over to look at our new apartment; and then we stopped by an open house to check out some new apartments in an old firehouse in Prospect Heights. It was a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
New cake dome purchased from Kmart for only $18...which was a score. I remember Sarah H. working on the packaging revision for the box when we were at Martha Stewart. Sarah, you will be happy to know that I am actually saving the box to store the cake plate in whenever I am not using it, which will be 99.99% of the time.
Lighting all 32 candles.
Dana had a birthday party to celebrate her 32nd birthday last night. This year, I decided that I would make her a birthday cake, because I felt that everyone should have a chocolate cake on their birthday.
I found a recipe for a devil's food chocolate cake with chocolate ganache frosting online — here is the recipe. And surprisingly enough, being that it was a recipe from Martha, it was not too complicated (unlike those crazy petit fours from last Valentine's Day). I also planned ahead, and made the cake part on Friday night, and frosted it on Saturday — and it's the not planning ahead part that is usually my downfall. As I made the cake, I was thinking about Dana the entire time, and how much our friendship means to me. And even though the cake was a little bit too dry (perhaps I should have made this one, instead? It is almost the same recipe, but there is an added cup of milk.), it was definitely made with love — as connoted by the rainbow sprinkles on top.
You can check out all of the birthday pictures, here.
This is Dan. He was supposed to be Person of the Day on Thursday, but somehow I accidently forgot to post him. Please note that this is not at all indictive of how much we love him, ok? (The picture was just on my other camera, and I forgot to consolidate.) Dan came over for pizza on Thursday and we ate dinner during Grey's Anatomy — and he was such a good sport because he understood my obsession with this program, and would therefore only talk to me during commercials and during transitions.
Ok, so how clever is this?! I went to the Rangers game today with my cousin Ross, and I noticed that all of these people were carrying around beers with pretzels attached to the mugs. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the mug has been designed so that the pretzel rod fits neatly into the handle, allowing the sports fan to snack while imbibing. The pretzel comes free with mug purchase, and then when you get a refill, they give you another free pretzel. Not only is this environmentally friendly (you get refills in the same mug and then you can bring your mug back each game you come to) but it also takes into account snackage.
Tonight I arrived home to find my new Netflix movie waiting for me. Although I have signed up for the one-movie-at-a-time plan, somehow I have managed to beat the system and get movies like every two days. The trick is to watch the movie the night you get it and mail it back first thing the next morning. Since my local Netflix processing center is in Flushing, I think my movie must arrive at the center, the same day I mail it out.
The movie I am going to watch tonight is a Swedish film called Kestrel's Eye. I saw it when it came out about nine years ago, at the Film Forum with my friend Susanna — who then later moved to Sweden. I highly recommend it.
I saw this entire skid of Elmer's Valentine's Day chocolates sitting on the sidewalk today, on West 27th Street. Which means that there are going to be loads of love-smitten women all across the five boroughs biting into their chocolate creams and caramel clusters all at the same time.
And while I am not a big fan of those large red foil, heart-shaped boxes of Valentine's chocolates (or any other chocolates on Valentine's Day, as Kenny will attest to), I love the kitchiness of the packaging, and how it has come to be the quintessential symbol of love on Valentine's Day — just ask Linus about Miss Othmar, his teacher.
Somehow, this led me to the Russel Stover/Whitman's Chocolates website (don't ask), where I came across a link for Whitman's new Organic chocolate sampler. Seriously.
I wanted to thank everyone who has been reading my blog or who is actually interested in what makes me happy everyday. Knowing that so many people read this makes me feel so, well, for lack of a better word, happy. This love-fest posting was prompted by an email I received from Kate, who let me know that Doug's (her husband) grandfather, better known as Pop Pop Stanton, now reads my blog. Which now makes me love Doug's grandfather, whom I have never even met! So thank you to everyone! For even though I started this blog as a way to make myself more aware of those small things in my day that bring me joy, knowing that people out there enjoy reading about and that it makes you happy, is wonderful.
This has been quite a week of packages arriving in my mailbox — thanks to the good old United States Postal Service. Last night brought me a postcard indicating that Joni F. had sent me something from Arad (Israel), and I had to go pick it up at the Myrtle Street branch.
Today, I received a package at work from Sheri in Long Island City (Queens), containing extra batteries for my Canon Digital Elph and some Perrier Postcards with stickers to customize my sparkling water for those moments when I am feeling either Scarier, Uglier, and Crankier. Which technically should never happen again, now that I will never have a dead Elph.
And tonight! Tonight I arrived home to a package from Kristy who is living down under in Surry Hills (Australia). Wrapped up in a very cute green striped dishcloth was a packet of FOUR Cherry Ripes! For those of you who have ever had the chance to taste the delectableness of a Cherry Ripe's cherry-chocolate-coconut stellar combination of flavors, you can certainly understand my excitement. I am going to ration these babies off for a while, only taking a bite a day.
I would like you to know that I am not just a package reciever, ok? I mailed a very long letter out to Joni F. tonight on my way home from work. And I also mailed a package to everyone from New Year's Eve, containing a set of laser printed index cards with all of the wine + cheese + chocolate info from everyone's country. And I also mailed back my Netflix (Hillary and Jackie) movie, but that does not really count.
And not only did I get some lovely packages today, I also received a super cute porcupine thank you note, from Lara — the porcupine reminds me of the baby porcupines in the movie, Over the Hedge.
Ok, I have not wanted to post about my love for Back to Nature's new little microwavable macaroni and cheese in a cup things. One, because I am really against any sort of packaged or processed foods. And two, because I am also against microwaves. (They fall into the "unnecessary appliance that takes up better used space" category.) So, when I saw them on sale in Greene Deli a week ago, I was torn. Do I buy them for lunches at work, or do I dutifully bring in my homemade frozen mac + cheese and thaw it out, instead, for a more nutritious meal? Obviously, the convenience factor won out, I am a little embarrassed to admit.
