ode to the park

the weather in new york this weekend is the reason people pledge their undying devotion to this city.  it was a perfect 70 degrees, with just the right amount of breeze and sun.  because it is early april, no one knows quite how to dress to avoid being too hot or too cold.  i saw bikini clad girls and shirtless boys starting their tan of the season and other people walking around wearing sweaters and jeans.   the air is electric with the possibility of, well, anything.

this time of year reminds me of the spring when seth and i became friends.  i would trek into the city and we would meet for brunch, inevitably ending up in hudson river park to people watch, talk and sometimes nap. that spring reintroduced me to my love affair with new york city and frankly, reawakened me out a very long hibernation from life.  hudson river park is like a magnet to me now, the minute the temperature creeps into the upper 60s it is the first place i want go.

so, this weekend, after brunch with an old friend, i started walking home and found myself walking west on christopher to meet seth at the park.  as i crossed the west side highway, the sights and sounds of the park came flooding back to me as if i was there yesterday.  the park was filled with packs of the beautiful boys of the neighborhood, bikers, roller bladers, dogs of all sizes, couples on picnics, friends playing clue and chess and people dozing lightly in the sun.   in a nod to spring, it seemed like no one was wearing black; i only saw a sea of bright blues, pinks and yellows.

after reading for a few hours, we were packing up to leave when i heard clapping and cat calls coming from my left.  never one to shy away from a spectacle, i had to investigate the commotion.  to be surprise, i found a large group of people jumping rope, double dutch style.  three women had shown up to the park armed with two jump ropes and challenged a group of boys to see what they were made of.   naturally, the challengers could double dutch like nobodies business and to my surprise, a few of the boys kept up with them.  the crowd encouraged the jumpers to keep up their momentum as well - when someone managed to get into the jump ropes without tripping, they were met with fierce applause.  anyone could try and those who did were nicknamed by the women.  my favorite nickname was "pink sunshine" for a boy in a pink sweater.  it fit.

seth and i stood there for about 20 minutes watching them jump and listening to the cat calls.  somehow those 20 minutes on saturday afternoon simultaneously reminded me of the fun i had in elementary school on the playground and of my daydreams from that fateful spring four years ago.  i firmly believe the magic of hudson river park enables me to conjure up such vivid memories and emotions.  and the smile has yet to leave my face.

at first i thought this was cool

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98695984

but in fact, it's lame.  cilantro stinks.  although maybe living with seth is the reason my sense of smell is dulled.  survival.

happy birthday chuck norris

70 years later and still bad ass.   chuck norris turns 70.  corey haim overdoses.  coincidence?

in chuck's honor, i am posting my favorite norris-isms of all time:

1.   Darth Vadar dresses up as Chuck Norris for Halloween.

2.   Chuck Norris can slam a revolving door.

3.   Chuck Norris doesn't sleep, he waits.

4.   If you spell Chuck Norris in Scrabble, you win.  Forever.

5.   What's 30 times Chuck Norris?  Oblivion.

signs

signs of maturity:
1. foregoing a bagel for breakfast for the healthier yogurt option
2. sticking to my exercise plan
3. walking to work this morning in the rain/snow and saving the money from the cab fare
4. realizing i have read just as many non-fiction books as pink books in the past year

signs i am not really as mature as i think:
1. forgetting that i was in public on my walk to work this morning and dancing on the street when a particularly awesome smith's song came on
2. laughing hysterically at the picture of rick in his storm trooper helmet
3. stopping each time the filet o' fish commerical comes on to sing along
4. realizing that the number of tween shows i watch on the CW far exceeds the number of newspapers i read and being completely ok with that statistic

stuff i wish i thought of part 2

http://www.thirdanddelaware.com/

Anyone who knows me can attest to my love (ok fine, obsession) with anything related to fashion.  Second only to fashion is anything related to 80s and 90s pop culture.

Imagine my happiness then, when I stumbled across a website dedicated to the fashion of the tv show Roseanne.    It is like the cross section of all things fabulous.   Brilliant.

my flops abandoned me

And I can completely understand why. I didn't want to leave Rincon either.

a symphony in meat

Take two beautiful steaks from DeBragga.

Add two crazy men who love meat marginally more than their wives.

Add some delicious sides made by one of the wives who can actually cook (i.e., not me).

Voila, Meatfest with the McGowans 2010. This evening ended in a sleepover in Monclair (i.e. Seth passed out) where I was ceremonially kicked off of the couch and ended up sleeping on a recliner.

But it was worth it.