Big Funds...Scratch That.

Ode to my first paycheck:

My first payday! My first payday!
Hooray! Hooray!
Finally making money, maybe I'll buy some honey.
But most of it will head to the bank.
I look at the final number.
And my heart sank.
Tax after tax, after tax.
After tax.
After tax.
Where did my paycheck go?
Sad Face
:(

Awkward Conversation Protocol

I love and miss the MD/DC/VA area. I now mostly miss my friends, but one of the great things living 250 miles away from home was the minuscule chance that I'd run into someone from high school, who honestly, are nice people, but I just don't really care about seeing.

That luxury is gone.

I've been home exactly a month this week, and I've run into four people from high school and one ex-boyfriend from college. Really?! It's not like I'm running into them in the same places. It's at a wide assortment of activities, like running through Penn Station, killing time in a bookstore in Brooklyn, or taking the S train to work in the morning.

I'm not trying to be mean; there is nothing wrong with running into people from high school. It's nice to have that "blast from the past moment" where you picture in your head what the person looked like six years ago and compare. (Hummm, he's bigger, Oooo, she learned how to use make up, Oh, he came out of the closet) The problem is what do you say after "Hi! How are you?"

You ask what they have been up to, what they do now, and if they are still with so and so, but then how do you make a clean break? You look for a friend to bail you out, or the moment when you realize you're going in different directions. But what if that doesn't come? Quick, think of something!!

"Umm, we'll I'll let you get back to what you were doing. Good luck with everything"
"Hey, look over there!" (dart in other direction)
"Well, have a great night. See you randomly somewhere else in New York in a few years."

Can that work?

11 Best Foods I Probably Won't Eat For Awhile

I've been living at home for almost a month now, and so far it's been quite enjoyable. I consider myself a semi-nomad. I am a repeat couch guest at my brother and friend's apartments. But one thing I do notice in my new travels in the boroughs and suburbs is just how difficult it is to continuously eat healthy when you don't have your own kitchen to fill.

I know for a fact that, compared to many of my friends, I'm an average healthy eater. I enjoy "good for you foods", but I've also been told by different people that they love going to out to dinner with me because I like ordering dessert. :) In the last year or so (in many ways thanks to Steve), I have started to enjoy going to the grocery store. Picking out fresh fruit and veggies. Finding fun foods to make into quick and easy delicious treats. And, also thanks to Steve, I am a bit bias. I have a new love, and his name is Trader Joe. And my second crush? Harris Teeter.

But the problem? Its turned into long distance relationships. There is not one TJ's in my county. The closest? Wayne, NJ...or Brooklyn. And Harris Teeter? There's one in Hoboken. Not exactly my "Neighborhood Grocery Stores."

And the other problem? I could stock my brother's kitchen while I'm staying with him in the city (pasta and potato chips does not a meal make), but going to his local grocery store on the East Side, and it's suburb-quality food with jacked-up city prices. Why does going 20 miles south mean a bag of apples or some prepared meatballs double, or almost triple in price?

This food rant actually only began after I read this article: The 11 Best Foods You Aren't Eating. I told myself I want to eat more of these foods, but then I started to wonder how I'm going to actually keep them when I'm not in the same house/kitchen more than 3 or so days? It's a goal that may have to wait until I move into a city-sized shoebox.

Excuse me while I go check on the brownies I just made with my Mom. :)

Crackberry

Meet the big slap in the face that reminded me I now work in Corporate America and not the journalism industry:
Now this is not my exact blackberry. I'm on AT&T's service, and mine has a few "character dings", and let's be honest, seen better days. This one vaguely looks like the blackberry my Dad had when I was in high school.
The fact that my company was so adamant that I have one kinda boggles my mind. And in no way did I expect them to go out and buy me a new one. I'm not that important. But at least could I have one that fits in the case provided to me?

I have already learned a few fun quirks about this particularly blackberry:
1. When searching through my bag, it's determined to always be found before my personal cell phone.
2. The screen only shows the following colors:grey, white, black, blue and orange. So if anyone has any images of Mets apparel, they can send it to my work e-mail.
3. My blackberry vibrates twice for e-mails. My cell phone vibrates three times for text messages, and continuously when someone is calling. I'll wait for the third vibrate to actually being the dig through the bag.

But now the next big step in bonding with my newest electronic device is naming it. So far I've called it The Brick, Blackie the Blackberry and Mabel (just for fun), but I'm not sure if any of them are worthy to be come the permanent name.

Anyone have suggestions?

Lions and Tigers and Bear Mountain!

"There's nothing to do in Rockland!"
It's a sentence I've heard come out of my mouth plenty of times. It's the universal complaint of most kids who grew up in the suburbs. We say nothing in the county is more than 20 minutes away, but drive 20 minutes and you're surrounded by more neighborhoods, schools and places to eat. But if you drive 20 minutes north, you're at Bear Mountain.

My only memory of Bear Mountain was when my dad would force me to go to take pictures of my brother and I in front of the foliage. But this time I was there with Steve and Justin, and I was the photographer.

Instead of outdoor ice skating (which could have been awesome had it not been sold out), we ventured around the park, went hiking and even forged across a larger than average stream. (We made it across mostly dry, the wagon stayed together and no one caught dysentery)

But before the flashback to Oregon Trail, we went back to our childhoods where a Merry-Go-Round was waiting for us! The dollar per person ride not only had photos of Rockland and other parts of the Hudson Valley through the years, it also had a variety of animals to enjoy the ride on!

We ended the day with hot chocolate and future plans to come back when the Bear Mountain Lodge re-opens, to go ice skating, and to enjoy Oktoberfest later in the year.
So I guess I can say I found one thing to do in Rockland.

So Bashert: A Very Gluck and Company X-Mas

I now believe in Christmas miracles. Okay, this was maybe not a miracle, but just so "bashert" (Yiddish for fate or destiny)that there had to be some higher power that made the stars (or better yet, the NYC Subway and NJ Transit) align for this to actually happen.

I had heard early Christmas Eve day that a few of my friends from back in the day NFTY-GER were getting together for Chinese food and movies that night. I didn't think much of it, and continued my my day work and happily left early.

After rushing through crowds in the Subway and Penn Station, I had about 15 minutes to wait at Secaucus Junction before my train back to Rockland would arrive.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was my friend Erica from GER! After the initial "what are you doing in New York" questions were asked, she informs me that she's heading down to our friends Shira and Ellie Gluck's house for said get together, and invited me along.

I love how sometimes plans can change so quickly for the better. I was expecting a night at home watching my parents fall asleep on the couch. Instead, I was in a car on my way to a good-old fashioned girls slumber party!

After TONS of Chinese food as well as "Clueless", "Love Actually" and "Dirty Dancing", I kept having flashbacks to my weekends in high school, being with my GER ladies. Some things, even after years apart, never change.

So call it just a freak coincidence. Or just a bit of good luck that I didn't have a boring Christmas. I consider it my little Christmas miracle that brought me back to good friends, really good food, and lots of fun!

Just like 2003 all over again. But with wine.

How Santa...I mean NORAD...does it

What goes in to tracking Santa?
Apparently more than I ever thought.

Take a look. :)