Sevilla Later: The Party

What a great time it was. We drank, we ate, we practiced flamenco and no one cried. Which, now that I think about it, kind of pisses me off.

Party pics here.


(Special thanks to Ilyse for creating the hilariously embarrassing invite.)

And now, my photo homage to everyone who could not be there and was very much missed. (Some of these photos are ooooold, which means we need to hangout more. If you don't even have a photo, then we reallly need to hang out more.)

Abby














Forever my art girls: Nicole, Lauren and Kelly













Casey















The CDs, although Corrie gets a pass since she's coming to visit














Dawn and Gina, who I think took this picture, which is why she's not in it












Debbie, who was in Meh-he-co














Erin














Kerry, who would kill me if I put a photo of her on my blog














Lloyd


















Mariel














Megan














Molly














Renee, Danielle, Brendan and Arielle














Ratterman














Sue














Vicki














Ysolt

My Mom's Better Than Your Mom

...because she's on ABC!


You'll have to go here to see the actual video (seems ABC isn't quite as technologically savvy as CBS' Andy Rooney). She was selected for the segment based on her outstanding volunteer work with the New Jersey chapter of the American Chronic Pain Association. (She also has her own alternative therapy practice.) Moms has become quite media savvy over the last few years; so much so I think her industry contacts are now far better than mine, as is her forward bend.

Oh well. Yay, Mom!

Sevilla Later: FAQ

Ever since the announcement of The Move 2.0, Jay and I have fielded a lot of the same questions about the decision. They are, of course, all valid, as our friends don't share the same brain, but because I'm procrastinating packing, I've decided to round up the eight questions we're consistently asked, for your inquisitive reading pleasure.

Q: How did you guys decide to do this?
A: Well, the frou-frou answer is that we both love to travel and living abroad is something that we've both always wanted to do, before we even met. Now, that's mostly true. But the honest answer is, after I initially (and half jokingly) presented the idea, he later called my bluff on how serious I was. Then I called his on researching an apartment. Next, he called me out on putting a deposit down, and so on and so forth. So, here we are.

Q: Why Seville?
A: We were split on where to go. I wanted Italy, he wanted Spain. After a few weeks of deadlock, one afternoon we were at Sunswick, talking to a 20-something bartender who had grown up all over Europe. We asked what his favorite place was in all of Europe and he said Seville. We researched it, and loved that it's a university town and is pedestrian friendly. Plus, the idea of daily siestas, nightly tapas and warm weather was a huge draw. Oddly, neither of us have ever been to Spain.

Q: Do either of you speak Spanish?
A: After six years of Spanish classes in high school and college, I'm conversational, at best. Jay can say, "Hola! Que tal? Me llamo Jay!" I think we're in for a big shock upon our arrival.

Q: Why just three months?
A: Because that's the longest you can go without needing a visa. After that, if they find you, they kick you out and you are not allowed back into any country in the EU for at least two years.

Q: Are you sure you'll come back?
A: Yes. We both have leases to get back to, plus, I imagine getting paid in dollars but living with the euro can't be sustained for very long.

Q: Will you travel around while you're there?
A: Absolutely, as our budget allows. We have earmarked Morocco and Paris specifically. (Suggestions on where to go are welcome in the comments below.)

Q: Are you nervous/excited/packed?
A: Yes/yes/see above.

Q: OMG, you're soooo coming back engaged!
A: No. Not that I've asked--more like relayed the recurring question--and have very gently been told it's not going to happen.

Sevilla Later: Binge Edition

The day I returned from my month-long stay in England, my parents, driving me home from the airport, asked what I wanted to do on my first day back in the states. "Go to a diner," said I, a born-and-bred Diner State girl, and the 'rents promptly obliged. Therewith, I proceeded to pig out on mozzarella sticks, potato skins (this was pre-vegetarianism) and other various and nefarious fried foods that are hard to come by abroad.

So, with less than a week left before the move to Spain, I made a list of all the foods I knew I could not get (or wouldn't be as good) overseas and therefore had to eat before my departure. These included, but were not limited to: a bagel, sushi, a slice of pizza, popcorn, cheese fries, pickles, et al. This weekend, I went on a bender, aided in part by the free pizza available with every drink purchase at Crocodile Lounge. The evidence...

First, on Saturday night, the pizza:



Then, the morning after, I ate like I was on vacation.



From left to right: pancakes; cheese fries with gravy on the side (for people who like that sort of thing); onion rings (not pictured); grilled cheese with bacon and tomato; mashed potatoes; roast beef sandwich (I did not partake); BLT (not pictured, also not eaten, though I did snag the pickle); scrambled eggs; and a Diet Coke, which is more syrupy here than the Coke Lite available everywhere else in the world.

It tasted oh-so-good going down and I expectedly felt disgusting the rest of the day, both physically and emotionally. In fact, I feel so full I don't think I'll need to eat anything until I actually arrive in Spain on Saturday.

The dude sooooo got grammar hammered

The New York Times writes a laudatory article about a subway ad that properly uses a semicolon (a lesson we know a few of you need to revisit), only to have to later amend the story with this correction:

Bizzaro World

"The first year and especially those first few months can be really isolating. Sometimes just getting out for a cup of coffee can be the most entertaining thing of the day."

That's a source I recently spoke with for an article. She was talking about having a baby, but I think it also speaks well of going freelance. Does this mean I'm ready to be a mom now?

T-minus 10 days...

Witness the cannoli-filled cake that wishes us well in French for our upcoming trip to Spain. Bit internationally schizophrenic, but delicious nonetheless.

Out With The Old

Does anyone actually enjoy Andy Rooney on "60 Minutes"? If you do, please tell me why, because I'm having trouble understanding how this dated, unfunny old man still gets paid. To wit, his recently aired segment on the Super Bowl:

Screw Union Square's farmer's market

I've always complained about the poor-quality produce in Astoria, which is why I'm so excited about this:

"...[Dan Wood and Amale Andraos have] convinced P.S. 1 to let them fill the museum's courtyard with... um, crops. Wood and Andraos have won the institution's Young Architects Program competition, which means that by summer, they will have stood dozens of giant cardboard tubes on one end, filled them with dirt, and used them as planters for cabbages, lettuce, tomatoes and herbs."


The veggies will be harvested and distributed--perhaps to the local Key Foods? For the love of God, please?! The project also calls for:

"...two sound columns--one that plays farm sounds when you sit down, another in which you can look upward, see stars and hear crickets. There is a phone-charging column, a children's grotto of columns with swings, an herb-growing column with circulating fans dispersing scents like basil or lavender [Ed note: Yay!], and a juicer column where fresh juice will be made and sold."

There's even talk of growing barley and hops to brew the first P.S. 1 beer, as all of this will be constructed around a pool, in an outdoor space dedicated to summertime dancing and drinking. The space will debut just in time for my return from Spain, so guess where I'm having my welcome back party? (Sorry Jay, you get no say in this one.)

It's likely I'm the sole person who gets excited by the idea of an urban farm, but what else would you expect from a girl who only knew cows as neighbors until the age of six?

Photo: Work Architecture Company (The example photo they released kind of sucks, but the web site has much better depictions, which unfortunately cannot be downloaded.)

Could this be the beginning of the end?

This post is at risk of over sharing. Consider yourself forewarned.

Around that time of the month, I tend to get severe cravings, usually for chocolate or salt, which, as every menstruating woman knows, is a big no-no, as caffeine and salt only make cramps worse. This month, however, has been different--I'm craving meat.

As a vegetarian, I know that having meat on the mind usually means I need to up my protein intake, but thus far that tactic hasn't worked. I happen to have a bit of pepperoni in the house, as I made the coveted pepperoni bread for Corrie's Super Bowl party on Sunday. By and by, I've been cutting off just a sliver and eating it. I didn't realize how often I'd been doing this until today when, on a recent trip to the refrigerator, I horrifyingly realized there's only about a quarter of the 'roni left (about half of the stick went to use in Sunday's bread). That's a whole quarter of pepperoni in three days, people. I'm so ashamed!

Perhaps there was something prophetic in what Jay's friend, Gabel, said to me on Sunday, after he found out I made the pepperoni bread: "You know Jenn, some people say pepperoni is a gateway meat."

A preview

...Of our apartment in Seville! I've been meaning to post these photos for a while and I figure my standard 3 p.m. procrastination hour is as good a time as any. Behold:



The living room, with what we hope is a futon so that when people come visit, we won't have to share a twin bed (more on that later).



The uneventful kitchen. Since I don't cook, its sparsity doesn't bother me much, though I'm not sure how well Chef Boehmer will manage.



The bedroom. Just like Lucy and Desi's.




Bathroom. Fascinating, yes?



The view of the Alameda de Hercules from our shared roof terrace. It doesn't look like much here, but we've been told that in the warmer months this is where las personas de Espana come to relax in the evenings over a bottle of vino. (And therewith, is about the extent of my Spanish. That, and "Donde esta el bano?")

photos: Seville5

All is right with the world

The Giants just had to win the Super Bowl, because I couldn't stand the thought of Tom Brady pulling off the unbelievable trifecta of knocking up Bridget Moyhahan, leaving her to bang Gisele and leading an undefeated team to a world championship win.

Plus, last night's win managed to raise my father's excitement decibel from Eeyore to Charlie Brown.

Good work, team.