Today Peter saw a hawk snatch a squirrel from a tree.
A squirrel was scurrying up a tree and WHOOM! The hawk just casually snatched it away.
Then, later as he was changing the doorbell (about seven months after it broke), he saw this big ant get stuck in a spiderweb and a teeny-tiny spider totally took it down.
Mount Kisco is full of nature.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
How Can They Find That Many Ben Steins?
Tonight Ben Stein is scheduled to be on the Larry King show.
The very first time I saw the show, "Win Ben Stein's Money," the contestant they had on the show was named Ben Stein. My sister explained the concept of the show to me by saying, "You see, Ben Stein knows everything, so this other guy, whose name is also Ben Stein, is going to try to answer more questions than Ben Stein so he can win Ben Stein's money."
After my head reeled around the planet a few times, I asked:
"How many Ben Steins are there? How often is this show on that they can find that many people who are named Ben Stein? I mean, what do they do? Import people from Israel?"
For a moment, my sister looked at me like I was speaking in a different language. And yes, that language has a name, it's called: Stupidese.
And then I saw this look of recognition on her face, the, "Oh yes, must translate Stupidese into English" look. After all, I AM talking to MY SISTER.
"TODAY the show HAPPENS to have someone on the show named Ben Stein. But MOST of the time, the contestants are NOT named Ben Stein. The show is called Win Ben Stein's Money. Not Watch Another Ben Stein Win Ben Stein's Money."
"Yah...Gotcha."
The very first time I saw the show, "Win Ben Stein's Money," the contestant they had on the show was named Ben Stein. My sister explained the concept of the show to me by saying, "You see, Ben Stein knows everything, so this other guy, whose name is also Ben Stein, is going to try to answer more questions than Ben Stein so he can win Ben Stein's money."
After my head reeled around the planet a few times, I asked:
"How many Ben Steins are there? How often is this show on that they can find that many people who are named Ben Stein? I mean, what do they do? Import people from Israel?"
For a moment, my sister looked at me like I was speaking in a different language. And yes, that language has a name, it's called: Stupidese.
And then I saw this look of recognition on her face, the, "Oh yes, must translate Stupidese into English" look. After all, I AM talking to MY SISTER.
"TODAY the show HAPPENS to have someone on the show named Ben Stein. But MOST of the time, the contestants are NOT named Ben Stein. The show is called Win Ben Stein's Money. Not Watch Another Ben Stein Win Ben Stein's Money."
"Yah...Gotcha."
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
I Still Stink!
The Crabtree and Old Lady Lotion still stinks! I've washed my hands about 17 times and the smell is still going strong. I think the fragrance has been seeped into my hands permanently.
This is La Source body lotion which I got from the Hilton Hotel in Atlanta. I had to throw it out because it's just too much!
Which is strange because I've used their soap, body wash, shampoo and conditioner and all I got was a pleasantly light scent.
I've washed my hands and put other lotions on my hands to negate the scent, but nothing is working.
I think I just might smell like this forever.
This is La Source body lotion which I got from the Hilton Hotel in Atlanta. I had to throw it out because it's just too much!
Which is strange because I've used their soap, body wash, shampoo and conditioner and all I got was a pleasantly light scent.
I've washed my hands and put other lotions on my hands to negate the scent, but nothing is working.
I think I just might smell like this forever.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Crabtree and Old Lady
Sitting in the car on the way to the library:
Peter: What is that smell?
Me: Lotion.
Peter: What kind of lotion?
Me: Crabtree & Evelyn
Peter: More like Crabtree & Old Lady. You smell like a real estate lady.
Peter: What is that smell?
Me: Lotion.
Peter: What kind of lotion?
Me: Crabtree & Evelyn
Peter: More like Crabtree & Old Lady. You smell like a real estate lady.
Friday, April 11, 2008
He Puts Our Servants To Shame
I went to the doctor today, a completely new doctor picked out of the hat I call My HMO. As I was waiting for her in the examination room, I perused a copy of People Magazine that has Jennifer Lopez on the cover.
She was quoted as saying that her husband is so good with the children that he puts the help to shame.
I thought that was such a strange thing to say. On one hand, I thought, "Well, they are your kids. So, yes, you should probably take care of them better than your servants.
On the other hand...No, there is no other hand. It's kind of a weird thing to say, and a little creepy.
But then again, they live on Long Island.
When Peter and I went to his niece's christening, the priest actually said:
"You all have people you hire to help you take care of your children. And we have to act like the hired help, except we're helping Jesus."
I guess he was just speaking in a language they would understand: LongIslandese
She was quoted as saying that her husband is so good with the children that he puts the help to shame.
I thought that was such a strange thing to say. On one hand, I thought, "Well, they are your kids. So, yes, you should probably take care of them better than your servants.
On the other hand...No, there is no other hand. It's kind of a weird thing to say, and a little creepy.
But then again, they live on Long Island.
When Peter and I went to his niece's christening, the priest actually said:
"You all have people you hire to help you take care of your children. And we have to act like the hired help, except we're helping Jesus."
I guess he was just speaking in a language they would understand: LongIslandese
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
Hold On While I Swirl My Scepter in There
We went to Peter's friend's Birthday Dinner last Saturday. He turned 40 and there was no Superbowl on, but whatever, other people can do what they want.
The thing is, whenever we go to this person's house, or he and his wife bring their child to our place, we get nervous that we won't be able to eat. Not because the food isn't good, because it is, but they have a daughter who likes to touch food that is on the table.
By the way, did I ever mention that I'm a germophobe? With a specific fear of child-carrying-bacteria?
One time she came over to our house and we had made roasted potatoes. As soon as we placed them on the table, she proceeded to touch every potato on the platter. Peter and I looked at each other like, "I guess the dogs are getting lucky tonight."
When we went to their house the other night, Peter's friend put a bowl of potato chips on the table and, since the little girl was in her fairy outfit, she took the scepter - ooops, I meant her Magic Wand, and swirled it around in the potato chips.
So when the tofu came out of the grill and was placed on the table, Peter snatched it up.
"I saw her eyeing it," Peter said. "And there's no way in HELL I'm not eating tonight!"
The thing is, whenever we go to this person's house, or he and his wife bring their child to our place, we get nervous that we won't be able to eat. Not because the food isn't good, because it is, but they have a daughter who likes to touch food that is on the table.
By the way, did I ever mention that I'm a germophobe? With a specific fear of child-carrying-bacteria?
One time she came over to our house and we had made roasted potatoes. As soon as we placed them on the table, she proceeded to touch every potato on the platter. Peter and I looked at each other like, "I guess the dogs are getting lucky tonight."
When we went to their house the other night, Peter's friend put a bowl of potato chips on the table and, since the little girl was in her fairy outfit, she took the scepter - ooops, I meant her Magic Wand, and swirled it around in the potato chips.
So when the tofu came out of the grill and was placed on the table, Peter snatched it up.
"I saw her eyeing it," Peter said. "And there's no way in HELL I'm not eating tonight!"
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Artichoke Heart & Spinach Gratin
In the past, I've been reluctant to post recipes that are taken from someone's cookbook. However, I found this article that says it's okay as long as you attribute it. So here is a recipe that has been requested. It is sooooo delicious.
This recipe is adapted from Mollie Katzen's in her new book, The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without.
1 6 oz bag of frozen artichoke hearts (She uses 12 oz artichokes)
1 pound of baby spinach leaves
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1 cup minced onions
2 teaspoons minced garlic
salt
ground pepper
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/3 cup grated Asiago cheese (She uses Parmesan Cheese, but I didn't have any)
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Run tap water through the artichoke hearts in a colander to defrost and drain.
3. Wash and rinse spinach and drain most of the water off.
4. In a skillet, add onions and saute with olive oil for 5 minutes until translucent.
5. Add spinach, increase heat and cover. Use tongs to toss until wilted, then uncover and cook for a few minutes until the liquids have mostly evaporated.
6. Reduce heat, add garlic, salt and black pepper to taste. Stir in the artichoke hearts and cover with bread crumbs. Then cover with cheese.
7. Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is golden delicious!
This recipe is adapted from Mollie Katzen's in her new book, The Vegetable Dishes I Can't Live Without.
1 6 oz bag of frozen artichoke hearts (She uses 12 oz artichokes)
1 pound of baby spinach leaves
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1 cup minced onions
2 teaspoons minced garlic
salt
ground pepper
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/3 cup grated Asiago cheese (She uses Parmesan Cheese, but I didn't have any)
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Run tap water through the artichoke hearts in a colander to defrost and drain.
3. Wash and rinse spinach and drain most of the water off.
4. In a skillet, add onions and saute with olive oil for 5 minutes until translucent.
5. Add spinach, increase heat and cover. Use tongs to toss until wilted, then uncover and cook for a few minutes until the liquids have mostly evaporated.
6. Reduce heat, add garlic, salt and black pepper to taste. Stir in the artichoke hearts and cover with bread crumbs. Then cover with cheese.
7. Bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes, until cheese is golden delicious!
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
200 Posts!
This is my 200th post! I can't believe I've already written 200 items of random stuff!
Yay for random stuff!
Yay for random stuff!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Apparantly, The Tweezie Isn't Painless...Or Sturdy
I have written about my mother-in-law's facial hair before.
When she came over the house about a month ago, she had Peter put in the batteries for her new purchase, The Tweezie!
Peter and I both looked at this little plastic piece-of-crappy thing and told her not to use it because it can't possibly work. She was insistent that the commercials showed happily facial-hair-free women who were extremely happy with the results...and said that it was completely painless.
So Peter put the batteries in and we watched her march into the bathroom full of confidence. As we listened to the buzzing noises coming out of the closed bathroom door, we couldn't stop laughing.
Then, when my mother-in-law came out of the bathroom, she looked a bit stunned, and I said, "Did it hurt?"
She looked at me, incredulous, as forlorn as Jack must have been the night before the beanstalks started to grow, and said, "YES!!"
She was very upset that the infomercial ladies lied, but then last week, we went to her house and she had the Tweezie in her room. She pointed at it and said that it stopped working. When I asked why she didn't throw it out, Peter rolled his eyes and said:
"What makes you think that she'll throw that out? She has kept three television sets in this house that haven't worked since before I was born!"
When she came over the house about a month ago, she had Peter put in the batteries for her new purchase, The Tweezie!
Peter and I both looked at this little plastic piece-of-crappy thing and told her not to use it because it can't possibly work. She was insistent that the commercials showed happily facial-hair-free women who were extremely happy with the results...and said that it was completely painless.
So Peter put the batteries in and we watched her march into the bathroom full of confidence. As we listened to the buzzing noises coming out of the closed bathroom door, we couldn't stop laughing.
Then, when my mother-in-law came out of the bathroom, she looked a bit stunned, and I said, "Did it hurt?"
She looked at me, incredulous, as forlorn as Jack must have been the night before the beanstalks started to grow, and said, "YES!!"
She was very upset that the infomercial ladies lied, but then last week, we went to her house and she had the Tweezie in her room. She pointed at it and said that it stopped working. When I asked why she didn't throw it out, Peter rolled his eyes and said:
"What makes you think that she'll throw that out? She has kept three television sets in this house that haven't worked since before I was born!"
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The War Against Dog Hair
Last night I had a conversation with another dog owner about a topic that comes up a lot when you own a Siberian Husky. DOG HAIR!!!!!
He told me about the Dyson vacuum cleaner, which he said is a "must have" if you own a dog that sheds like his sole job in life is to cover every square inch of your home with fur.
I told him that I've been using a Swiffer vacuum stick because it's light and easy to grab and go.
This guy looked at me as if I had said, "Well, I still churn MY butter."
He sat up and, very seriously, said, "This is not a battle, but WAR. And in the WAR against dog hair, you need all the resources that can handle the fight."
'Nuf said.
He told me about the Dyson vacuum cleaner, which he said is a "must have" if you own a dog that sheds like his sole job in life is to cover every square inch of your home with fur.
I told him that I've been using a Swiffer vacuum stick because it's light and easy to grab and go.
This guy looked at me as if I had said, "Well, I still churn MY butter."
He sat up and, very seriously, said, "This is not a battle, but WAR. And in the WAR against dog hair, you need all the resources that can handle the fight."
'Nuf said.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I Wonder Who Da Bear Is?
When we got to Peter's mother's house last Sunday, we parked our car a few feet away from this really large red Cadillac from the 80s. I got out of the car and read the car's license plate out loud.
"Hmmmm. Da Bear. Who's Da Bear?"
Peter says, "Shut up! Don't say anything. Don't look at it."
Peter's old neighborhood is in the area of the Bronx called "the 'hood." This basically means that if you look someone in the eye in this area of the Bronx, he may or may not decide to come up to you and punch you in the mouth. It all depends on his mood, or if his dog won that fight the night before.
But I say, if you get a license plate that has "Da Bear" on it, you're just asking for it.
"Hmmmm. Da Bear. Who's Da Bear?"
Peter says, "Shut up! Don't say anything. Don't look at it."
Peter's old neighborhood is in the area of the Bronx called "the 'hood." This basically means that if you look someone in the eye in this area of the Bronx, he may or may not decide to come up to you and punch you in the mouth. It all depends on his mood, or if his dog won that fight the night before.
But I say, if you get a license plate that has "Da Bear" on it, you're just asking for it.
Monday, March 24, 2008
No More Easter Dinners
Peter and I went over to his mom's house yesterday and today we have arrived at the conclusion that we are no longer subjecting ourselves to family events. Not because it went terribly, or that anyone made a scene or said anything to us -- everyone was very civil. There's just no point in spending any time with people who are just going through the motions.
I had a really difficult time even looking Peter's sister in the face. Every time I found myself near her, I walked to the other side of the room. I just don't have that gift of being able to act all phony with a smile on my face. The awfulness was just exuding out of her like noxious alien puss.
When her kids came into the room, her daughter kept screaming, "I Don't REMEMBER Any Of You PEOPLE!" over and over again. I was all -- I wish I could say the SAME thing.
I thought about all the times my aunts and uncles would take me to the movies and pizza and how I really got to know them and I'm sad that Peter's not going to have that kind of relationship with his little niece and nephew. Hopefully, one day, when they're older, we can try to forge our own relationship with them. But having to deal with his sister is just not a good thing.
Peter's nephew brought his datebook and during the entire visit, he was copying his "year-at-a-glance" into his "week-at-a-glance." That's an activity I don't usually save for Easter dinner.
The one jab I did get in was, while we were seated, Peter's mom brought out spinach lasagna, and Peter's sister complained because she didn't like it. And then when Peter's mom brought out the steamed artichokes, she complained again. She said, "Maaaaaaaa! Why didn't you bread them?"
Peter's mom got all upset and said, "Next time! I'll do it next time."
I said, "Well, she served that on THANKSGIVING."
Peter's brother-in-law caught that, laughed loudly and said, "I guess we're going to have to start coming on THANKSGIVING...If we want the breaded artichokes."
I had a really difficult time even looking Peter's sister in the face. Every time I found myself near her, I walked to the other side of the room. I just don't have that gift of being able to act all phony with a smile on my face. The awfulness was just exuding out of her like noxious alien puss.
When her kids came into the room, her daughter kept screaming, "I Don't REMEMBER Any Of You PEOPLE!" over and over again. I was all -- I wish I could say the SAME thing.
I thought about all the times my aunts and uncles would take me to the movies and pizza and how I really got to know them and I'm sad that Peter's not going to have that kind of relationship with his little niece and nephew. Hopefully, one day, when they're older, we can try to forge our own relationship with them. But having to deal with his sister is just not a good thing.
Peter's nephew brought his datebook and during the entire visit, he was copying his "year-at-a-glance" into his "week-at-a-glance." That's an activity I don't usually save for Easter dinner.
The one jab I did get in was, while we were seated, Peter's mom brought out spinach lasagna, and Peter's sister complained because she didn't like it. And then when Peter's mom brought out the steamed artichokes, she complained again. She said, "Maaaaaaaa! Why didn't you bread them?"
Peter's mom got all upset and said, "Next time! I'll do it next time."
I said, "Well, she served that on THANKSGIVING."
Peter's brother-in-law caught that, laughed loudly and said, "I guess we're going to have to start coming on THANKSGIVING...If we want the breaded artichokes."
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Respite Until Sunday
Today I woke up this morning at 6am. Most of the time when I wake up, my eyes feel as if there are forces holding them down and I cannot for the life of me open my eyes without summoning up every fiber of muscle in my body. For some reason, this morning, I woke up and my eyes were like, "Hey! What's Happenin'?"
I guess my body was all, "Peter's mom is leaving in ONE HOUR!! It's CELEBRATE good times C'Mon!!"
And it's a good thing I got up, too, because Peter did not set his alarm clock, even though I asked him last night. Three times. But hey, who's counting?
The reason he had to get up super-early this morning is because he has to go with his mother to get her fingerprints taken for renewing her green card. This is the second round because her last set of fingerprints didn't "take." I guess because she's 83 years old and all her finger swirls have been ground down into nothingness, or she has NO FINGERPRINTS because when you're born Evil, it's a good thing not to have.
I'm just kidding, she's not Evil, she's just evil, Evil's second cousin twice removed.
Two days ago, Peter took his mother down to Brooklyn to get some more paperwork done for her green card. Why all the hoop-jumping and fingerprinting nonsense, you might ask? Because she let her green card expire...six years ago. And the reason she even found out? The answer is she wanted to transfer her money from one bank account to another and the bank asked to see something called a picture identification card. When she pulled her green card out, they looked at it and informed her that this card hasn't been valid since before Britney met Kevin.
The first night she stayed over, Peter and I huddled in our room talking about her - which by the way, is something we always do when guests come over - and he told me that when he went to the immigration office with his mother, he pointed out all the people who were sitting around waiting.
"You see all these people here?" He asked.
"Yes. There's a lot of people here."
"You know why they're here? Because they NEED to be here! YOU don't NEED to be here! YOU DID all this ALREADY, sixty years ago!"
Her attitude during this whole process is that the green card people should have sent her a notice telling her that the card was going to expire, and I was like, yeah, right. Because you can't be held accountable for something that you can just take out of your wallet and take a gander at once a decade or so.
Anyway, they left this morning to make their 8am fingerprinting appointment, so I made eggs and waffles with strawberries, and even though she ate breakfast yesterday with Peter, this morning she said she wasn't hungry.
I guess my body was all, "Peter's mom is leaving in ONE HOUR!! It's CELEBRATE good times C'Mon!!"
And it's a good thing I got up, too, because Peter did not set his alarm clock, even though I asked him last night. Three times. But hey, who's counting?
The reason he had to get up super-early this morning is because he has to go with his mother to get her fingerprints taken for renewing her green card. This is the second round because her last set of fingerprints didn't "take." I guess because she's 83 years old and all her finger swirls have been ground down into nothingness, or she has NO FINGERPRINTS because when you're born Evil, it's a good thing not to have.
I'm just kidding, she's not Evil, she's just evil, Evil's second cousin twice removed.
Two days ago, Peter took his mother down to Brooklyn to get some more paperwork done for her green card. Why all the hoop-jumping and fingerprinting nonsense, you might ask? Because she let her green card expire...six years ago. And the reason she even found out? The answer is she wanted to transfer her money from one bank account to another and the bank asked to see something called a picture identification card. When she pulled her green card out, they looked at it and informed her that this card hasn't been valid since before Britney met Kevin.
The first night she stayed over, Peter and I huddled in our room talking about her - which by the way, is something we always do when guests come over - and he told me that when he went to the immigration office with his mother, he pointed out all the people who were sitting around waiting.
"You see all these people here?" He asked.
"Yes. There's a lot of people here."
"You know why they're here? Because they NEED to be here! YOU don't NEED to be here! YOU DID all this ALREADY, sixty years ago!"
Her attitude during this whole process is that the green card people should have sent her a notice telling her that the card was going to expire, and I was like, yeah, right. Because you can't be held accountable for something that you can just take out of your wallet and take a gander at once a decade or so.
Anyway, they left this morning to make their 8am fingerprinting appointment, so I made eggs and waffles with strawberries, and even though she ate breakfast yesterday with Peter, this morning she said she wasn't hungry.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
What Happens When People Are Not Invited
So now that Peter's mother has decided not to invite anyone for Easter, it seems that EVERYONE wants to come. She said it was strange, because for the past few weeks, she specifically did not mention Easter whenever she talked on the telephone with her kids because of all the song-and-dance complaints and excuses she gets every year. And she noticed that her kids went out of their way to not mention Easter either.
But I guess when Tina decided to come (and now we're roped into it), yesterday, Peter's brother Gino's family decided they need to be there too. I don't get it. So I guess when people want you to come and invite you, the answer is no. But when people don't invite you and plan other things, you decide you need to come. Urgh. And then Peter's other sister, the one who doesn't speak to anyone else anymore, invited his mom down to her house for Easter. Huh?
The mother-in-law visit has been going fine. I've been spending all my time locked up in my room. Peter yelled at her yesterday because she wouldn't try my zucchini casserole (She doesn't like to try anything I make), but then she tried it and said she liked it (which made me laugh). Last time I made something, she put it in her mouth and then spit it right out into a napkin. This is progress, people.
You know, next time I will encourage her to invite everyone over for Thanksgiving, just so they will say no like they always do.
But I guess when Tina decided to come (and now we're roped into it), yesterday, Peter's brother Gino's family decided they need to be there too. I don't get it. So I guess when people want you to come and invite you, the answer is no. But when people don't invite you and plan other things, you decide you need to come. Urgh. And then Peter's other sister, the one who doesn't speak to anyone else anymore, invited his mom down to her house for Easter. Huh?
The mother-in-law visit has been going fine. I've been spending all my time locked up in my room. Peter yelled at her yesterday because she wouldn't try my zucchini casserole (She doesn't like to try anything I make), but then she tried it and said she liked it (which made me laugh). Last time I made something, she put it in her mouth and then spit it right out into a napkin. This is progress, people.
You know, next time I will encourage her to invite everyone over for Thanksgiving, just so they will say no like they always do.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Visitation
Peter's mother is coming to visit for two days. Gah! Wish me luck, Internet.
He just went to pick her up and since he was running a little late, she was already on her porch with all her stuff.
He called me just now to warn me.
In case you don't know, when a mother-in-law is standing on her porch with all her stuff, it means that she is LIVID that she was not picked up ON TIME, and this is her passive-aggressive way to let you know that she is NOT going to behave herself.
He just went to pick her up and since he was running a little late, she was already on her porch with all her stuff.
He called me just now to warn me.
In case you don't know, when a mother-in-law is standing on her porch with all her stuff, it means that she is LIVID that she was not picked up ON TIME, and this is her passive-aggressive way to let you know that she is NOT going to behave herself.
Wobble Cafe
We finally found a great place in Westchester to have breakfast!!
Wobble Cafe, which was featured in the InTown food issue, is located in Ossining, and the reason we hadn't been there before is that, for some reason, Peter didn't want to go to Ossining to try a new restaurant. I guess it's because you don't want to drive twenty minutes out of the way to go and try a new restaurant that will probably suck.
But last Sunday, we were up at 9am. By the way, 9am is extremely early for me. When the Twin Towers were attacked, my friend Andrew was frantic to reach me, just in case I had randomly decided to go somewhere in the city I hardly ever go to, and his roommate said, "Andrew, this happened at 8:45 AM. She's safe."
Peter wanted to go to a brunch place and suggested going to Crabtree Kittle House, which is great if you want to spend $70 on an all-you-can-eat buffet brunch. But I never feel like we're getting our money's worth since all he eats is vegetarian stuff (the cheap stuff) and I hardly eat any breakfast. But wouldn't you know it, Crabtree opens its doors at 12pm.
I looked up several other brunch places and they all opened at either 12pm or 12:30pm.
"That's not BRUNCH!" Peter said. "That's LUNCH!"
I looked it up, and in most places, brunch is served as early as 9am, and mostly around 10am. But in WESTCHESTER? 12pm.
So I dug up the food issue I knew that I had kept and the Wobble Cafe was open for breakfast, so off we went. And after we ate, Peter said, "Why have we never come here before?" And I reminded him that he was anti-Ossining.
Then he asked, "Why would I ever say that I don't like Ossining?"
I don't know. Why does he ever say random things he doesn't believe in?
Wobble Cafe, which was featured in the InTown food issue, is located in Ossining, and the reason we hadn't been there before is that, for some reason, Peter didn't want to go to Ossining to try a new restaurant. I guess it's because you don't want to drive twenty minutes out of the way to go and try a new restaurant that will probably suck.
But last Sunday, we were up at 9am. By the way, 9am is extremely early for me. When the Twin Towers were attacked, my friend Andrew was frantic to reach me, just in case I had randomly decided to go somewhere in the city I hardly ever go to, and his roommate said, "Andrew, this happened at 8:45 AM. She's safe."
Peter wanted to go to a brunch place and suggested going to Crabtree Kittle House, which is great if you want to spend $70 on an all-you-can-eat buffet brunch. But I never feel like we're getting our money's worth since all he eats is vegetarian stuff (the cheap stuff) and I hardly eat any breakfast. But wouldn't you know it, Crabtree opens its doors at 12pm.
I looked up several other brunch places and they all opened at either 12pm or 12:30pm.
"That's not BRUNCH!" Peter said. "That's LUNCH!"
I looked it up, and in most places, brunch is served as early as 9am, and mostly around 10am. But in WESTCHESTER? 12pm.
So I dug up the food issue I knew that I had kept and the Wobble Cafe was open for breakfast, so off we went. And after we ate, Peter said, "Why have we never come here before?" And I reminded him that he was anti-Ossining.
Then he asked, "Why would I ever say that I don't like Ossining?"
I don't know. Why does he ever say random things he doesn't believe in?
Monday, March 17, 2008
Easter Dinner
We thought that we had a free pass for Easter dinner because Peter's mother said that she wasn't inviting anyone over this year. At the age of 83, she has decided to stop inviting people to Easter because of the annoying fact that for the two or three weeks leading up to it, the telephone conversations she has with her son and daughter detail every single niggly complaint they have about making that long journey from Albany and Long Island. And now she's tired of it.
So of course, we were all, "Good for you!"
Peter suggested that we spend Easter over at our place, because we're free! And we'll hang out!
And THEN Peter's sister Tina called her mother and told her that they, in fact, will be going over for Easter Sunday.
Now we're stuck. How bad will it look to make an excuse now?
It's kind of a bad situation since it's difficult to deal with a complete sociopath/narcissist woman who can't understand why I may be dealing with feelings of anger and resentment from the terrible way she has treated me in the past, which range from actually telling me that I am not part of the family and screaming at me at several family events (and not coming to my bridal shower and refusing to bring Peter's parents to our wedding one hour early)
Side note: At our wedding, after Peter introduced Tina to the twenty or so people who flew in from Taiwan and Japan to attend the wedding, she said to him, "Wow. They came all that way to be here? Her family must think we're all complete assholes." Her family? Try HER!! HER thinks you are an ASSHOLE! At least she is slightly slightly aware of her assholiness.
Sooooo. Regardless, I've been trying to come to terms with the fact that I should try to have a better outlook and be a nicer person. So I had this very long conversation with Peter about how we should be the better people and go to Easter Sunday. We should go and be civil -- that doesn't mean that we need to extend ourselves or be completely phony-nice, which is just as bad. But we can go to dinner because it would make Peter's mom happy. And I'll try to stay as far away from Tina. And if she tries to kiss me hello, I should just let her instead of shirking away like I did last time, as if her lips were the poisoned lips of Satan...Even though they are.
So we agreed that we're going to try to act like better people and not bitch and complain about things all the time. Because other people are not going to change, we can only change the way we behave. And then Peter asked:
"But what about Westchester? Does this mean that we can't complain about Westchester?"
I thought about it for a minute and said, "Well, as long as Westchester is rife with things to complain about...it's fair game."
So the verdict is: Don't complain about people. Complain about Westchester. This will make us happier people.
So of course, we were all, "Good for you!"
Peter suggested that we spend Easter over at our place, because we're free! And we'll hang out!
And THEN Peter's sister Tina called her mother and told her that they, in fact, will be going over for Easter Sunday.
Now we're stuck. How bad will it look to make an excuse now?
It's kind of a bad situation since it's difficult to deal with a complete sociopath/narcissist woman who can't understand why I may be dealing with feelings of anger and resentment from the terrible way she has treated me in the past, which range from actually telling me that I am not part of the family and screaming at me at several family events (and not coming to my bridal shower and refusing to bring Peter's parents to our wedding one hour early)
Side note: At our wedding, after Peter introduced Tina to the twenty or so people who flew in from Taiwan and Japan to attend the wedding, she said to him, "Wow. They came all that way to be here? Her family must think we're all complete assholes." Her family? Try HER!! HER thinks you are an ASSHOLE! At least she is slightly slightly aware of her assholiness.
Sooooo. Regardless, I've been trying to come to terms with the fact that I should try to have a better outlook and be a nicer person. So I had this very long conversation with Peter about how we should be the better people and go to Easter Sunday. We should go and be civil -- that doesn't mean that we need to extend ourselves or be completely phony-nice, which is just as bad. But we can go to dinner because it would make Peter's mom happy. And I'll try to stay as far away from Tina. And if she tries to kiss me hello, I should just let her instead of shirking away like I did last time, as if her lips were the poisoned lips of Satan...Even though they are.
So we agreed that we're going to try to act like better people and not bitch and complain about things all the time. Because other people are not going to change, we can only change the way we behave. And then Peter asked:
"But what about Westchester? Does this mean that we can't complain about Westchester?"
I thought about it for a minute and said, "Well, as long as Westchester is rife with things to complain about...it's fair game."
So the verdict is: Don't complain about people. Complain about Westchester. This will make us happier people.
Friday, March 14, 2008
I Can Sympathize
Peter and I were watching the news reports and there's a report that a woman sat on her boyfriend's toilet for two years.
They interviewed the boyfriend and he basically said that she was so afraid of dealing with her family members, that she decided it would be best to just hide in the bathroom.
Peter's reaction?
"I can sympathize."
The police want to file charges against her boyfriend, which I don't think is right. He said that she had been living in her bathroom for the past two years, but had been showering and changing her clothes every day until last January. He said he had been trying to get her to come out, but she kept saying she would come out "tomorrow."
I lived with my crazy aunt for years, and there's really nothing you can really do about someone who does not want to live in reality. She wanted to lock herself up in her room and since she came out to make meals and she did shower and run errands once in a while, my parents just let her live her life the way she wanted.
I used to think that we really should have had her committed, but my dad was completely in denial that there was anything wrong with his baby sister. Of course, anyone coming in brand-new to our situation thought it was Cr-AA-ZY.
Including one of our nannies who quit after only a few weeks because she freaked out over the occasional laughter coming from my aunt's room. We tried to explain that this was just my aunt laughing at her television sitcoms, but that nanny was so not buying it.
They interviewed the boyfriend and he basically said that she was so afraid of dealing with her family members, that she decided it would be best to just hide in the bathroom.
Peter's reaction?
"I can sympathize."
The police want to file charges against her boyfriend, which I don't think is right. He said that she had been living in her bathroom for the past two years, but had been showering and changing her clothes every day until last January. He said he had been trying to get her to come out, but she kept saying she would come out "tomorrow."
I lived with my crazy aunt for years, and there's really nothing you can really do about someone who does not want to live in reality. She wanted to lock herself up in her room and since she came out to make meals and she did shower and run errands once in a while, my parents just let her live her life the way she wanted.
I used to think that we really should have had her committed, but my dad was completely in denial that there was anything wrong with his baby sister. Of course, anyone coming in brand-new to our situation thought it was Cr-AA-ZY.
Including one of our nannies who quit after only a few weeks because she freaked out over the occasional laughter coming from my aunt's room. We tried to explain that this was just my aunt laughing at her television sitcoms, but that nanny was so not buying it.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Here Comes the Bulge
Conversation between me and my sister this past weekend.
Me: What are you watching?
Judy: Bulging Brides.
Me: WHAT did you say?
I sat down and watched as three people demean this poor girl and make her purchase a wedding dress that is two sizes too small for her. One thing I know about wedding gowns is that you can get one that covers up pretty much EVERYTHING.
This is a reality show that should be outlawed. Some day, when civilization dies, the aliens who come to this planet will unearth a tape of this show and say, "Yeah, I guess this is what killed mankind...stupidity and materialism."
I thought the title was demeaning enough, but check out names for their episodes:
Bursting At the Seams and Just Harried.
Me: What are you watching?
Judy: Bulging Brides.
Me: WHAT did you say?
I sat down and watched as three people demean this poor girl and make her purchase a wedding dress that is two sizes too small for her. One thing I know about wedding gowns is that you can get one that covers up pretty much EVERYTHING.
This is a reality show that should be outlawed. Some day, when civilization dies, the aliens who come to this planet will unearth a tape of this show and say, "Yeah, I guess this is what killed mankind...stupidity and materialism."
I thought the title was demeaning enough, but check out names for their episodes:
Bursting At the Seams and Just Harried.
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