Fifty shades of yoga

I’m the most annoying yoga student ever: I go sporadically, with no commitment to a particular class, instructor, or studio; I usually stop paying attention to my breath or any zen feelings and instead enthusiastically plan meals, blog posts, or works of literature I will likely never write; and worst of all, I’m really hoping this is going to pay off in the form of awesome abs and killer (but still feminine and sexy) biceps. But you know what? I’m a paying customer, and this is America. Don’t take away my freedom to half-ass my way through your yoga class.

Many important questions

Daylight savings time is just a grand conspiracy, isn’t it? Why am I still awake? Why have I started like 90 different blog posts that I haven’t posted? Why do I exaggerate all numbers to a multiple of 9? Why did my eyebrow threader do weird things to my eyebrow (right) this weekend? Why am I playing around with Photo Booth instead of just buying a real photo editing program with my NYU discount? Does this photo look OK not on Macs? Who doesn’t have a Mac these days anyway? Why I am still writing fake questions when I need to get up at 6am?

The leftover ingredients: buffalo chicken casserole

A few weeks ago, I made Jackie’s buffalo quinoa salad. Not only is it delicious, but it lasted me three days. Hooray!

The problem? Like any cooking adventure where you use one cup of one thing and two stalks of something else, I was left with a ton of ingredients. Luckily for me, I left for the holidays the week after I made Jackie’s dish, so I merely threw away all of the celery and carrots rather than trying to come up with a clever use for them.

The buffalo sauce, however, remained.

I am a gross slug person.

Well, folks, my office is near Union Square, and the street it’s on looks like this. So, I had no work again today, and will have no work for the rest of the week (at least) for now.

My roommates work above 34th St., so they decided to walk to work over the Brooklyn Bridge. It took two and a half hours and sounded like it was super fun. Neither of them are going to try walking to work tomorrow.

I, on the other hand, sat around my apartment like a lazy worm creature. Well, that’s not entirely fair. I left my apartment to go to the bagel place down the street, and then I came back to my apartment to eat it. Later, I then went to the hardware store to buy a lightbulb for my fridge, and then returned to clean my kitchen. I discovered that we now may have mice. Yay!

Later in the afternoon, I felt like I was losing my mind. So, I thought, maybe I should go to read in a cafe or something. And so did everyone else in Park Slope ever. Seriously, there are about five cafes in a three-block radius from my apartment, and they were all standing room only. Instead I walked up and down my street and bought some flavored pellegrinos. Go capitalism!

Tomorrow, I plan for a long walk. Perhaps additional purchases? I apparently can now take the F train around in a circle in Brooklyn; maybe I can just ride that around for a while.

Survey of my building.

I have two neighbors. The nice Italian couple on the first floor are having a party; two guys on Vespas rolled up around 10pm with some beer. I bet they live in Red Hook.

Whoever lives upstairs left the building’s skylight windows open, so the wind keeps rattling our front door. The howling wind sounds are nice, though. Very cozy.

It is fucking hot in here and our landlord has it so we are deliberately unable to adjust the radiators. I have my bedroom window open, mostly for ambiance. I can’t really see anything. Something fell out back like two houses over. I was half hoping something would fall on my dumbass neighbors’ pool, to teach them a lesson about having their pool open until November. But only half-hoping, as that would cause major unnecessary flooding in our neighborhood.

I’m going to go watch some Netflix until I fall asleep or we lose power. Whichever comes first. My office is closed tomorrow. Par-tay.

Hurricane news coverage drinking game

EDIT: Finish your drink if the camera pans back to the newsroom and the anchors are texting.

This is testament to how drunk I am and also how little I play drinking games. Leave suggestions in the comments for additional items!

Drink every time someone says:
– “Worse-case scenario” (this alone could be your game.)
– “It’s really raining out there”
– “The news keeps flooding in right now”
– +2: “robust” anything. +3 if you work at OUP and this happens.

 

Two drinks when:
– news anchor draws football-commentary arrows on top of storm map (+1 more if the map already has arrows)
– news anchor gives advice for disaster-aversion techniques, like you’d be watching your TV for that.
– news anchors in the field can’t hear the news anchors in the studio for more than 5 seconds

Three drinks when:
– news anchor gleefully points out horrific damage (“The Hudson is actually three feet behind me!”)
– weather man stands in front of green screen of a shot of nearby Manhattan street
– Anchor or interviewee, while standing outside: “You should not be outside right now. A tree could fall on you.”
– Blair Witch-style camera work, +1
– Police asks anchor to leave

Hilarious news coverage

The NYC ABC local news has some woman and a camera crew driving around New York. It is hilarious. “I’m just going to open the window here, look at this!” “Oh, there’s a policeman; he’s giving us directions. Hector, are you getting this? Hector?”
Anchor: “Well..thanks, Diane, that’s enough…”

 

Also: water on news cameras + camera crew lighting = all outdoor anchors have halos.

Landfall!

Jackie suggested I liveblog the hurricane–I’m in a higher up part of Brooklyn (Park Slope), so I can’t say I have any awesome flood photos for you guys. Lights are flickering, but we still have power. We are watching some TV that is primarily broadcasting about NJ, which is extra comforting.

Plus, we opened some wine.

Hurricane update

It’s not even 2pm and I’m already bored. And that’s with power, and also sparkling wine.

The City that Naps. Often.

Whenever an old friend or any distant relative finds out that I work in/leave near New York City, their reaction is usually always one of these three reactions:

1) Cool! Do you go shopping/to Broadway shows/run around in Central Park like, all the time?
2) Cool! Do you hang out in Williamsburg/see cool indie shows/go vintage organic shopping like, all the time?
3) Wow! How can you afford that? Does your job pay tons of money? I’ve heard of that company you work at…