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Tea & Sympathy & Thai Sweet Chili Crisps

26 Jul

So after the excitement of two footie games, the Red Bulls fan club, the Tottenham drunkards and one sporadic Vuvuzela, I was STARVING! SS suggested we hop off the train early and get food. When we got off he gave me the option of 1) someplace I don’t remember because the second option was so much more amazing, or 2) Tea & Sympathy. Although I had never before eaten there, I had analyzed the menu, stared at the shelves of food in the adjoining store and chowed down at the Fish & Chip shop two doors down. Eating here was at the very top of my list of things to do in NY.

SS’s idea to carry over the afternoon’s British theme to our nightly feeding was one of the best ideas he’s ever come up with — and he’s a smart guy. So sitting in the front window of the quaint tea shop, we chowed down on a Steak & Guinness Pie (my choice) and a Sunday Roast (his).

My pie was, as the English would say, gorrrrrgeous! And although the roast was, IMHO, overpriced, SS cleaned his plate. It was a proper pub meal served by proper Brits and left me properly smiling at the end.

After sitting through a couple hours of rain there was absolutely nothing that could have brought a better end to the day.

Well, maybe one thing could have made the night better. The Tea & Sympathy shop next door had Walker Sensations’ THAI SWEET CHILI crisps! High five SS!


Red Bull gives you wings, but Brits with Beer are louder!

26 Jul

Yesterday my family, myself and SS hit up a double header “football” game at Red Bulls stadium. Tottenham played their second friendly in NY (having beat the Red Bulls 2-1 three days earlier) against Sporting Clube de Portugal, ending in a 2-2 draw; followed by the Red Bulls beating Manchester City 2-1. (Goooo Bulls!)

It was SS’s first round of birthday gifts experiences and I think he had a great time. I know I did — both in the hot sun and then in the downpour that pleasantly followed. I was excited to take him to this game in particular because I knew he had been to a Tottenham game in England when he was over visiting. Not quite the same experience, but as close as we can get over here.

The Red Bulls victory was very cool. I mean, Man City is an EPL team, and the Red Bulls are, well, an MLS team. They are in a different league… both literally AND figuratively. (ha. ha. ha.) It was fun to watch them win!

But while NY showed up the Mancunians on the field, we definitely failed in the stands.

The Tottenham team has either a) a strong fan base in the NY/NJ area, or b) very dedicated fans who followed them across the pond. Every few minutes during the Tott v. Sporting game, they broke out in song: “Ooooh when the Spurs go marching in…” It was quite catchy, and as I was happily supporting the crazy Brits, I jumped up and chimed right in.

When the second game started, the Red Bull fan club took their seats at the end of the field and started in with their cheers, chants and bouncing. I thought, “We’re American; the number one thing foreigners hate us for is being loud. Bring it on boys.”

Well, I was wrong. It seems the Mancunians didn’t bring their cheer team, but lucky for the Brits, the Tottenham supporters had nowhere else to be — and the bar was still serving. It was only a few minutes in when we heard, “Ooooooh whennnnnnnn the Spuuuuuuuurrrrrssss come marching innnnnnnn…” … louder and faster and louder and faster.

I looked at the Red Bull fanclub as if to say, “WTF boys? Crank up the volume,” only to see them all screaming and clapping and cheering their lil’ hearts out. They were trying, and they just couldn’t compete. Their lungs had not received the years of training given to footie fans in the UK. It’s in their blood.

It’s not just volume that they have mastered; they got stamina. They continued to cheer for their beloved team — who I remind you wasn’t playing anymore, and once it started pouring wasn’t even sitting in their seats on the field anymore — the entire time the Red Bulls battled with Manc. And with such a catchy tune it’s hard to ignore. More than once I caught myself humming and tapping my feet before I remembered that I wasn’t cheering for the bloody Brits anymore. GOOO RED BULLS!

We did drown them out when we scored. I’m not sure the Totts fans were even watching to know we scored. And I bet there were some annoyed NY fans in the stadium. For me, personally, it just made me want a beer… and some Thai Sweet Chili chips!

On to Day 2…

1 May

Yeah, so Day 1 didn’t go so well. Other than waking up in a lot of unrelated pain causing me to go to work late, by 1:30pm I had a kicking headache. Like kicking me right between the eyeballs headache.

I was pretty sure it was sinus related, so eventually I caved and took half an Aleve-D—god’s gift for sinus pain. I was trying to avoid all meds, for obvious reasons, duh, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to keep my eyes open.

In attempt to avoid it upsetting my stomach I quickly made a glass of lemonade and chugged it.

Bad idea! Ten minutes later I was in the bathroom returning the lemonade mixture. At this point I wrote off work and headed to my desk to pack up my stuff. In doing so I found SS’s keys and, sort of, begged him to let me crash at his place for a while.

Three hours later I woke to him sneaking around his own apt (what a doll!). As I explained what happened, I couldn’t help but hear how silly this whole “adventure” sounded. When I vocalized this, he asked me why I was doing it. I stuttered, not because I didn’t have a reason, but because I wasn’t sure if it was the same reason as it was yesterday—or even if there was one single answer.

Why did do I want to do this? Well, like I said two days ago, I wanted to face the challenge—the challenge of abstaining from food—and seize back the control I sometimes lack.

Now, after only two-days of easing in and one day of being on the diet fully, my reason has already evolved. In the last 24 hours I have gotten more than enough calories to maintain my energy levels; plenty of water to stay hydrated; and have not pushed myself to do any excess physical activity. Yet, I feel physically beat-up, mentally withdrawn and emotionally exhausted.

Is my body that impure?

I never considered how chemically sensitive my body is. I push it day in and day out, to get up at an early hour, sit at my desk, increase its energy to exercise, suppress its energy to go to sleep; I eat breakfast to wake me up, drink caffeinated tea to help me focus, herbal tea to help me sleep and take pain killers to quell its aches. I am constantly putting stuff in my body to make it do what I want it to do…

Just one day in, I’ve been able to acknowledge the important of not treating my body like a piece of equipment. And I’m guessing, and hoping, that after this cleanse—however long I make it—my body will return to a more natural homeostasis and I won’t have to trick it into playing out my demands.

This is not what I told SS… as these thoughts hadn’t come to me yet. I think it was more of a “Well, I want to see if I can, umm, yeah, and see how much better my, like, body feels afterwards, umm, yeah.” (I’m so eloquent.)

When I said I should sack it off, he told me to keep going. “Tough it out; the first days are supposed to be the worst, right?” I was expecting him to welcome the idea of me sacking off an “adventure” that doesn’t allow me to partake in one of our favorite-shared activities—eating—and makes me ill and cranky. But in retrospect, why would he? SS is a determined guy who enjoys a good challenge—marathons, bike races, finding cheap airline tickets, etc. He understands the need to challenge oneself to achieve a goal, or learn something. And it’s a wonderful way to be! It’s something that makes me proud to be with him.

So here I am at Day 2. As I sit on the train home, I feel good… so far. I already penned in physical/mental TLC a week ago so I have nothing to do but stay in touch with my body, learn how it’s reacting and baby myself. It makes me sad to remember how in touch with my body I used to be when I practiced yoga regularly—note to self: I must go back to that.

Other than that, MJay is super excited for our yard sale in a few weeks so I must begin to feng shui my life and gather my crap… BIG TIME!

It looks like my room, and my body, is getting some spring cleaning today!

Dressing The Un-Fashionable

24 Mar

Last night I received one of the best text messages a girl could ever ask for. SS requested that ‘I wear something sexy because he had made reservations for a fancy eat-in.’

Surely every girl secretly loves being treated like a princess. But to have a guy so keen on being with you, spending time with you and taking you out is one of the utmost forms of flattery, in my opinion. And this is even better when it’s a guy you absolutely adore and makes you as giddy as a child.

With that said, I responded as any normal gal would, with a lil giggle and discreet cheerleading straddle jump.

Then, as soon as I stuck my landing, I thought, “Crap, what do I wear?”

I’m not stylish, nor do I pretend to be, or want to pretend to be, for that matter. (I don’t want to give off a false first impression that I know how to get dressed on my own.) I am most comfy in a pair of rolled-up jeans, tank top or hoodie and a pair of flip-flops. (Just ask the Brits from my course: I was so excited about mild British winters that I li-trally wore my Tevas alllll year — with leg warmers on the brisk days.)

Anyways, I raided my closet; I raided my roommates closet; I thought about what stores were near me at work. As I did this I made a mental note to “attempt to pay more attention to your closet hunny; looking good for someone special is worth the agony of shopping.”

In my closet I found a fitted low-cut black dress; in my roommates closet I found a pink strapless number; and already in my office was a grey dress (also from my roomy’s closet—sorry hun, all your clothes will be home tomorrow…). So with four options (I also wore a dress just for good measure), I hope to pull off something SS-worthy by 6 pm.

So next time M-jay wants to go to the mall, I may actually join her on the sales floor, instead of plopping down in my usual position in the fitting room to play the role of human-mirror.

Or maybe I don’t have hope… maybe it’s biological: As my brother said the other day in response to my comment that I “was born with the male shopping gene”… “there is no such thing; you are just lacking the female shopping gene.” Good point kiddo, good point.

‘Tis the Season…

16 Mar

Maybe it’s because of cinema, but I always have a life soundtrack playing in my mind: Dance beats when I’m energetic, a bit of rock when I’m PO’d and something soft when I’m feeling loved up.

But there is also seasonal influence. No matter what my mood from the beginning of October to mid January, it’s Christmas tunes… any kind, any artist, any time of day.

Today I woke up to bright rays of sunshine and a moderate temperature of 60 degrees. (I also woke up at 10 am due to a brutal migraine – I’m guessing it wasn’t 60 at 6:30.)

What does this weather mean? Country music season!

There is just something about sunshine and summertime that screams Yee-Haw!

That’s some BIG ARSE S-U-S-H-I

15 Mar

Tonight I went out with my family for my birthday dinner. As per my request, we went for sushi. As per someone’s recommendation, we went to a local place we’d never tried before, Sapporo.

I ordered my usual amount, two rolls and we shared an appetizer.

The portions were effin H-U-G-E!!!

In the past, I’ve learned that when restaurants say “salmon on the outside” it refers to a strip of the fish on top of the roll. At this place “salmon, shrimp on top” meant a MASSIVE MOUND of it on top of 8 PIECES of a 3-INCH DIAMETER roll. Like I said, it was EFFIN H-U-G-E!!!

I obviously finished it all, as you can’t doggy bag sushi, and you should never let food go to waste. But I’m not gonna front, my body was not happy about it. I usually aim to feel full when I eat, but last night the skin on my stomach was stretched. Li-trally, my stomach, the internal organ, was soooo big that the skin across my abdomen was stretched as if I was with child. No joke.

As my brother responded to my description of mixed pain and delight, “Ugh, sushi stretchmarks!”

Happy Birthday to me!

(I don’t have sushi stretchmarks for the record.)

The Comfy Factor

14 Mar

In relationships, there are some people in which you live your day-to-day with… and some which you do not. And that discovery can be somewhat monumental. Either a disappointment — or a giddy relief. It’s all a matter of how comfy you are with the other person…

I’m glad to say I’ve experienced and gained insight from both.

While it’s important and oh-so-cute-and-touching to give your significant other 100% of your attention, all the time, in the end you both have lives to live, and ultimately if you want to be with someone, shouldn’t you be able to live your lives together? That means sharing their attention with the mundane activities of, well, functioning in society.

At the same time, it’s so easy to fall into the day-to-day of life that you forget to dedicate your attention to each other from time to time. Everything in extremes, eh?

On that thought, SS spent the weekend on LI. Since we were stuck – or blessed, in my lazy opinion – with a hurricane, we ended up spending a lot of time indoors. We did make it out of the house today – mostly to find food, but after that we went to, get this, Ikea. How effin domesticated is that? I mean, I loooove Ikea, but I just like it because it’s fun to run around in, not to shop for a future home that I have no desire to own. But Mr SS here, well, he is a grown-up, and not only does he own a dwelling but he needs a new kitchen. Soooo, for the first time in the existence of my relationship with Ikea, I ventured through the Kitchen department. And I almost, for a minute or two, felt like a grown-up too. 😮

I was disappointed about one aspect of Ikea’s Kitchen collection… they install it for you. Now where’s the fun in that?