Went | Philly for #SVDM14

This past weekend was the annual St. Valentine's Day Massacre party in Philly. My friend Shawn Elise has been throwing this shindig for the past three years—it all started in her living room!—and it's since grown into a bigger, open-to-the-public event. Sadly (for us) she was in Australia this year during the party, but the usuals gathered at my friends Nicole and Jay's apartment for the weekend to keep the tradition going. Unfortunately, the party coincided with Cyndi and Zander's romantic weekend getaway to Boston, but at least they got to use our apartment while we were away.

We've been to Philly more times than we can count, so we laid low, getting familiar with Nicole and Jay's new digs, eating homemade cinnamon rolls, treating ourselves to a Stephen Starr restaurant (Parc, which gave us a little taste of what to expect from Paris in August!), and watching a lot of Breaking Bad/SNL/Olympics. It was the perfect getaway for this hellish winter. I took Tuesday off, and we took our time driving back, stopping off at Phily Diner (why is it spelled that way!) for pancakes and then in Queens to have a quick lunch with Nabila. We hit some awful traffic on the way home from New York, but Cyndi's great note and gift were enough to bring a smile to our faces. Now we just need to plan to actually spend a weekend with Cyndi and Zander!

Went | Chamard Vineyards, Old Saybrook, CT

A couple weekends ago I went to a ridiculously large house on the water for a bachelorette weekend in Connecticut. It wasn't your usual bachelorette party, it felt more like a weekend-long slumber party with so many people I love. On Saturday we went out on the town of Old Saybrook, getting lunch at a biker bar before raising our pinkies and glasses to Katie at Chamard Vineyards. This was my first experience at a winery so I wasn't up on all of the wine jargon, but I found one that I liked, ordered a glass of it, and we all wandered around the property like it was our backyard. The place was gorgeous, as was the weather, and we sat on hay bales while Katie told us about all the things she loves about Emily. There's an unfortunate stereotype about bachelor and bachelorette parties, but this one busted that wide open for me. I left feeling refreshed and drunk on wine and love. The wedding is in a couple of weeks, and my bridesmaid dress just came in the mail! This weekend we're heading to New York for Jenna and Ron's engagement party, and these days, it seems that love actually is all around. 

Went | Brooklyn Birthdays Part II

Have I reached the statute of limitations on talking about mine and Cyndi's birthday weekend in Brooklyn? No? Good. I established that the weekend was beautiful. It was mid-September so there was a distinct tug between cool Autumn air and warm end-of-summer heat. We got a slow start on Saturday due to a late night on Friday (bars in Boston close at 2 AM, so we were not accustomed to pacing ourselves for a 4 AM last call...). Zander, the oldest of the bunch, and Matt and Ryan managed to pull themselves together and start their day while Cyndi, Mike, and I took a midmorning nap to allow the bagels to do their magic. Around 2 PM, they had worked wonders and we headed to the Brooklyn Flea for a sample of its food offerings, some overpriced vintage items, and great people-watching. Nabila met up with us and we headed to the Williamsburg Momofuku Milk bar for cereal ice cream, pistachio sticky buns, pork buns, and a stack of cookies to take home. Cyndi and I had been talking about visiting the Milk Bar since our last meet up in New York, and I'm glad we finally made it happen. We headed back to the airbnb to get fancied up for our dinner at a neighborhood restaurant, Marietta, where we ate fried chicken, the best summer corn I've ever had (may or may not have something to do with the cotija cheese in it...), rice pilaf, and fried green tomatoes. It was a sweet nod to our home state, but let's be honest, nobody does southern food like the south. And nobody charges for southern food like the north.

Still a little wiped from Friday, we had a quiet night in on Saturday, drinking wine and listening to the rainstorm outside. Sunday morning was beautiful: sunny and cool and breezy. It was perfect weather for our decision to ride the train into Manhattan so we could walk back across the Brooklyn Bridge to DUMBO to try out Smorgasburg. We sampled too many booths to pick a favorite, but I loved the range of types of foods I saw, including the Lumpia Shack, which featured one of my mom's staple foods growing up (and now!). They were true to the Filipino style of the dish (my mom's is the Chamorro take on it—a little thicker and with more vegetables), and they were delicious. We sprung for the sampler, and my favorite was the pork, although really, they were all amazing. I had two types of ice cream (sandwich and shake) and we called it a day. I'm now deeper in the later half of my twenties, but birthdays like these have kept the anxiety of getting older at bay. Twenty-one was fun and all, but I couldn't afford to head off for a friends weekend in New York back then. Everything in its place and all that.

Went | Brooklyn Birthdays Part I

Yesterday was my birthday. Every year, my birthday turns me into a kid again. The cards in the mail, the cake and ice cream, the giddy expectation of gathering everyone I love into one room for a meal. I grew up with four siblings, each spaced four years apart and then seven between me and my youngest sister. When we were young, my mom used to dress me and my sister Bea—the next oldest from me—like we were twins. Our birthdays are 17 days apart, so we always had joint birthday parties, wearing the same dress in different sizes, our bangs poofed to perfection.

Something about that experience year after year has conditioned me to gravitate towards friends with birthdays near to mine so we can celebrate together. Cyndi and I have managed to get together for our birthdays two years now (we're a year and ten days apart)—last year in Boston and this year in Brooklyn. We rented an airbnb, stayed out until 4 AM, and ate bagels and cereal milk ice cream until we almost burst. It was the first time that we've had Mike and Zander together (spoiler alert: they got along swimmingly, probably talking trash about us), and the first time I'd seen our friend Matt in years. We reverted to our high school selves, teasing Cyndi about her outbursts in public places and her baffling inability to navigate the world around her. In short, it was a perfect start to my birthday week.

Went | The Aloha Stadium Swap Meet

My nephew had a football game Saturday afternoon, so we figured the Aloha Stadium swap meet was a good way to kill some hours before the game. I wanted to find myself another lava lava (what my family calls a sarong), and see if they had any good souvenirs. 

Before we left, we rented some boogie boards for our Sunday trip to Waimea Beach. 

The swap meet did not disappoint. It was so hot, but we cooled off with shave ice, frozen bubble tea (the taro was delicious!), fresh cut mango and pineapple as we dipped into each tent. We ended up buying mostly food: macadamia nuts, taro bread, guava and coconut cake, and fresh cut coconut, but the day was worth it. Afterward, we all piled into the car and my nieces were asleep within minutes. 

This last photo makes me laugh because there's an almost identical picture of me and my older sister, Bea. We're at Six Flags, and I'm staring at the ice cream she's eating while eating my own ice cream. It was fun getting to see the sister relationship as these two get older. 

On travel, highlights, and jumping off of rocks.

Coming back from a long trip away, people always ask for the highlights. My friend Crysty, after a summer in Beijing reporting on the summer Olympics, told me, "I have so many stories, but they'll have to come out naturally. As I remember them, I'll tell you." It's only been two days since Mike and I got back from visiting my sister, brother-in-law, two nieces, and nephew in Hawaii, but I've already relived so many of my favorite moments on the grass in front of the MFA with Jenna and Katharine, or on the phone with Meg and Bea. I've always been a self-proclaimed homebody, so this deep love of going to new places feels like a secret part of me that I've been able to explore in the past few years. I always assumed that student loans and the lower end of the salary spectrum would keep me from seeing as many new places as I'd like, but every year I prove myself wrong.

So much of the trip felt like the highlights, even the next to the last day that we spent almost exclusively inside Nessa's house preparing food and watching a movie and hiding from the sun. I love the version of me that notices the moon; the girl who rolls the windows down as soon as the car has started, wraps her hair around her fingers and turns the music up. I love it when I am dancing in the living room trying to make my niece laugh, when I find myself genuinely impressed by the people my sister's kids have become in the months since I have seen them. I always bring so many books when we go to the beach, forgetting that I will always prefer to be among the waves rather than baking on a towel squinting into a book. I will stand at the top of a 40-foot rock, knees locked, calves weak, breath shallow, and then I will step forward, I will pinch my nose, and I will step off. I will yell, "Shit!" despite the crowds of children. I will apologize to the dad bobbing near me when I surface, pick my tremendous wedgie, and swim to the shore, still shaking.

Back from Hawaii.

Oahu is one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited. Beyond the ecstasy of being on vacation for a week and a half, I woke up early each morning ready to see more. We left defeated by the sun, our hearts and bellies full. We arrived on Wednesday night, and by Thursday morning we were exploring Hickam Air Force Base and Pearl Harbor, where my sister and her family live (it's fitting that Oahu is known as "the gathering place"). We visited the beach on the base, which was a nice first taste of the beautiful beaches we would see over the following week. My sixteen-year-old nephew complained about how crappy the beach was, but even the crappiest beaches on Oahu beat out the nicest beaches on the east coast. 

Before we left, Mike and I had a loose mental list of the things we wanted to do like drink a pina colada on the beach, jump off a rock into the ocean, hike up a mountain or crater, watch the sun rise and set, eat fresh sushi, to name a few. I can happily say that I feel like I soaked up as much as I could in the time we had there. We're already planning to go back before they're transferred somewhere else.

Where we're headed.

Did I tell you we're going to Hawaii? My brother in law was stationed there this past February, so Mike and I are taking advantage of having family on O'ahu, and we're going for a little over a week, starting today. I'm not the best at planning vacations—my strategy is to play it by ear—but we've been slowly wading through a couple of travel books on O'ahu in preparation. I'm immediately drawn to the history and cultural sections of the books, so while Mike is figuring out which beaches we should visit and where to find the best cliffs to jump off of, I've been filling him in on proper lei etiquette (don't take it off in the presence of the giver as that indicates you're rejecting the giver's affection; don't throw it in the trash, instead, take it apart and scatter the pieces with which it was made back to the earth), and the native Hawaiians' struggle with independence (still ongoing today).

This will be my last post until we get back, but I will bring you back stories and pictures and more freckles than you can shake a stick at. Enjoy these last days of summer; write down what you see, what you feel, what you hear beyond the whirring of your window fan.

Went | Vermont: Sugarbush Farm & Killington

On Saturday we loaded up the car, picked up two friends, and headed up 93 toward Vermont. Usually it's just me and Mike in the car headed some place, but it was a nice change to have Katharine and Konrad along as well. We stopped at Sugarbush Farm in Woodstock, where we sampled almost every cheese they make—ranging from cheddar with jalapeno and cayenne (my favorite) to cheddar with sage and cheddar aged up to 98 months. After following a slightly paved road into the woods, the trees cleared to reveal the largest barn I've ever seen and what looked to be just someone's house. We visited with the horse, goats, chickens, and a month and a half old doe-eyed calf out front, then made our way into the farmhouse where a woman was waiting to cut pieces of cheese up for our enjoyment. It wasn't a fancy storefront, in fact, the tasting happened right where the magic does: vats of coating wax stood alongside the makeshift tasting table. She didn't flinch as we asked for taste after taste of delicious cheese. Then she moved onto the maple syrup, pouring us bits from the lighter, early season syrup to the late season, dark Grade B syrup.

We made our way back into the store area, where we loaded up on cheeses for the night, maple syrup, and more tasting. I opted for a small block of Mike's favorite—cheddar with onion—while Konrad got a sampler of the jalapeno, aged cheddar, and cheddar with sage. There were also $1 bags of cheese ends, so I got some more jalapeno and some cheddar aged 36 months. After our mini lunch, we toured the maple syrup room, walked around the beautiful grounds, and headed out.

Next, we passed through the downtown area of Woodstock for ice cream. The only reason to go anywhere is to try the local ice cream. We walked around a street fair, ate a pulled pork empanada with chimichurri sauce (yumm), fell in love with the town, bought even more food, then ate ice cream. Katharine and I split a cup of salted caramel and a cup of mint Oreo. I was pleasantly surprised that the mint ice cream wasn't green, and we all stood around mm'ing and talking about how ice cream is one of the best things in life (that might've just been me, but nobody disagreed).

That night we grilled up burgers and hot dogs and had a big family style dinner. A couple of the nerds guys had heard about a meteor shower, so we dragged blankets onto the back porch and watched the sky until our eyelids got heavy. 

Can I just say that one of my favorite things to do on vacation is to wake up before everyone else, brew a big pot of coffee, and read on the porch? On Sunday morning, I did just that. Everyone woke up slowly, and we gradually made a big breakfast of homemade cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, and cheese toast. After our breakfast of champs, we headed over to Pico and did a mile hike. The trail was just enough to know where you were going, but also made you feel like you were making your own way. This particular stretch made me feel like I was hiking into a storybook...

I love these ladies.

We ended up staying a good three and a half hours longer than we intended on Sunday, rounding out the perfect day with a long sunny lunch at Lookout Tavern (I recommend the salmon sandwich!). Despite the late hour, we took advantage of the free bubble hockey, cheap Buck Hunter and pool table. I'm always surprised at how even a short three-hour drive from home can feel like a much needed vacation. 

Went | New York for the weekend.

On Friday, Nabi and I met up with Cyndi at the Museum of Natural History. Museums aren't always at the top of my list of things to do, but this one is the exception. This place is a mixture of history and art. The installations are thoughtful and interesting. Cyndi's old roommate Ellie took us on a tour of the Mammalogy department where she works, and I had the genius idea to create a Museum Museum. So much goes into the care and creation of every detail, it's a wonder how it ever came to be.

This week has been a quiet one so far. Mike is still on the baseball trip with his dad, and so it's just me at home each evening. I'm enjoying this chance for alone time; taking over the living room to piece together printed t-shirt patterns, spontaneous trips to Target and Trader Joe's (I am fully stocked on wine and beer and toppings for crackers). Usually when he is gone, I make hodge podge meals that aren't very healthy, but this time I've enjoyed singing to Pandora while I cook. Last night I had roasted chicken, mashed cauliflower, and asparagus, and tonight I did a little throwback to NYC with a bagel and lox and salad. I'm impatiently waiting an order of fabric so I can get started on some summer dresses. Each time I make a dress I can feel I'm getting closer to making something I'll feel comfortable wearing in public.

The past two nights, I've had meandering phone calls with a good friend (one of whom I was visiting in New York this weekend). I miss Mike, but I want to take full advantage of the quiet freedom of solitude.

New York kills me dead.

I find New York exhausting in the best possible way. My bus rolled in a typical hour late, and Mike was waiting for me as I stepped off. Mike and his dad are on a weeklong baseball trip, and their first game happened to coincide with my decision to skip town to New York for the weekend. He finally got to meet Nabila over a slice of plasticky New York pizza. It was perfect.

He dropped us off at the train and we rode a good hour out to Queens. My first time in Queens was ushered in by a good ol' meat on a stick. There's a magical Cinderella stand that appears after the sun goes down and it's only a block from Nabila's building. I was disappointed this morning when it was gone. We headed into the city for the Museum of Natural History, which is the most majestic of any museum I've been to. Cyndi's old roommate Ellie works there (coolest job ever) so we got a behind the scenes tour. We petted cheetah and skunk and fox and otter skins! We saw a real, live dumb waiter! We ate at Shake Shack!

That museum can suck a whole day out of you, and by the end my back was killing me, but we persevered. On to Brooklyn and Prospect Park and the free bluegrass concert! We found some familiar faces (everyone lives in Brooklyn apparently) and enjoyed Trampled by Turtles (we debated over the name) until it was time to trek back to Queens. Something about being in New York, where everything is farther away from one another, all of my usual habits go out the window. It's 2:16 AM and I'm writing a blog post. Who am I? We made it back to Queens just in time for tacos then trudged our food coma butts home. I'm sorry to say that two carne asada tacos and half a carnitas taco can deter me from the meat on a stick truck. Tomorrow: Brooklyn Round 2. (Must find Momofuku Milk Bar!)

Going to New York.

Today I said goodbye to Mike for a full week. He's heading off on a five state/six baseball game tour with his dad and I'm heading to New York for the weekend. To be honest, New York City stresses me out. It's big, it's bustling, it's fast. I've grown so accustomed to Boston, with its residential neighborhoods and side streets and remaining hidden gems. New York just seems so exposed and claimed to me, it doesn't seem like a place I could ever make my own.

Of course these are all personal fears and insecurities that I'm projecting onto a city, but each time I make the four-hour bus ride down, I have a mix of excitement and crippling fear that I will make a wrong turn and spend the rest of my days wandering New York trying to find my way home.

I'm going to visit friends in Queens and Brooklyn, and hopefully be able to make a few stops along the way. Cyndi had serendipitously planned to be in the city this very same weekend, so we have plans to force her to visit a museum tomorrow and eat ice cream for every meal. Now ice cream for every meal, now New York is speaking my language.

Where this summer takes us.

I think I will always be in awe of people who blog everyday. Perhaps they have some writing muscle that is much more toned than the one I cover up with baggy t-shirts and stretchy pants. I used to have a toned writing muscle, but somewhere along the way my priorities shifted.

These days I love for my fingers to have the peppery smell of my tomato plants or the sweet musky scent of vanilla. I'm meandering my way through a homemade dress that barely fits my boobs (someday I'll learn the art of altering a pattern to my body), and I'm one summer closer to mastering the art of ice cream making. I'm learning a new routine and enjoying the expanse of sunshine hours while simultaneously bad-mouthing the stint of 90-degree days I thought I'd left behind in Georgia.

This past weekend we traded cell phone service for a campsite in the Adirondacks. I bought Jiffy Pop and bacon at a general store that still uses a binder to keep track of locals' tabs. I stumbled through mossy woods and scrambled down slippery rocks—thinking of ticks the whole time—to swim in the Sacandaga River. Mike whittled (I use the term loosely) a tiny canoe and sailed a stick figure man complete with leaf hat down a tiny waterfall. We ate fire-blackened veggies and meat and 'mallows as the sun set behind the trees. We brought home leftover beer and bug bites, already thinking of next year's big group camping trip.

Went | West Hurley for Memorial Day

For Memorial Day this year, we rode down to West Hurley in Jenna's new car for a few days away in an adorable farmhouse. It was rainy and cool on Saturday when we arrived, so we made a delicious lunch and explored the house and the market nearby. The house was right down the road from Overlook Mountain and Woodstock, both of which we took full advantage of on Sunday and Monday.

 

On Sunday morning we made a big breakfast and headed up to Overlook Mountain for a quick hike. I say "quick hike," but as a sporadic hiker (at best), it was a challenge for me. I was thankful when we got to the remains of what was the Overlook Mountain House, built in 1871. The story behind this place is pretty incredible: it was destroyed by fire, renovated, destroyed by fire again, then renovations began again, but were never finished because of the owner's death. When his son went off to war, all of the top of the line building materials were stripped out and the remains stand as a reminder to not rebuild in a place plagued by fire. Seriously.

Once we got to the top, we were expected then climb this six story fire tower, left over from the days when the fastest way to get news of a fire was by having a volunteer stand above everything looking down. Now it serves as a chance for hikers to get an even better view of the summit. I made it up about two flights before my knees buckled and the intense winds made me turn right back around. 

The overlook was incredible despite being one of the lowest elevations in the Catskills. I'm content working my way up from the bottom. 

After the hike, we explored the nearby monastery then walked around Woodstock. We ate a late lunch at the Garden Cafe, and it was amazing. It's all vegetarian, and the black bean sweet potato burger and the brown rice and kale bowl were just what we needed after our trek up the mountain.

We all took long naps then woke up around 9 for matzoh ball soup and board games. We didn't want to leave on Monday, but we took the long way home, stopping in Woodstock again and then in Rhinebeck before heading home. The weather was so beautiful, we were all giddy with the windows down, and I was able, for once, to stave off the realization that vacation is nearing its end. 

Self-timer and manual focus are not friends. 

I woke up from a nap to Jenna and Ron getting out of the car to take pictures of one last overlook. 

I miss that farmhouse.