Not Your Typical Post...

Every Shabbat dinner my family had when I was a child was identical to the one prior. My mother's pots would clang over the Israeli music coming from our old, oversized silver casette player, the one with the counter my mother used for when she recorded my sister and I practicing the piano. My family, immediate or extended, is by no means boring, monotonous or mundane. We are lounder, more boisterous and a bit more sarcastic than your average tree of kin. But like all families, there are a handful of things which mine does exceptionally well (of course there are a few that we do extraordinarily poorly as well), but for these few works of art we've never attempted improvement. Friday night sabbath is one of the better in our repetoir, holidays in general we excel at, but friday night dinners stands out as exceptional. It's by no means because my family is perfect, we are far from that finish line, but we love and we love well. That is one thing this slightly irregular, haphazard family of mine knows, love-big gooey gumball drop sized pieces of love.

Chicken Insides and Mayo...

Braised chicken is what trickled into my gray matter during my weekend. Braised chicken and how to pluck and feather a bird properly. No, not really, but that you have to take the shmutz out of the middle, pull the neck out of the little bag and feel around for the heart. Then drop the neck on the clean kitchen floor and hear your girlfriend squeal. Before this weekend, if you had handed me a raw chicken I most likely would have cringed, sat it on the counter and preceded to stare down the already dead poultry. After confirming it's lack of life I would have googled to see if you are able to microwave a whole bird. Who knows where it would have gone from there. But alas, I know longer own a microwave (I know! Tell me about it!). They aren't allowed in my new home I now cohabitate in with my girlfriend. My girlfriend the chef, enough said. I do not believe her refrigerator had seen mayonnaise since the previous tenants! I snuck it in, and before she knew it, we were eating BLTs after work at 2 in the morning! A small miracle perhaps? Or the beautiful give and take of a blossoming relationship? The latter holds more validity I'm sure. For BLTs at 2am, I'll dispose of my microwave any day!

It's IKEA or bust... For a dresser that is. Recommendations for 2nd hand stores with funky/vintage/retro furnishings would be appreciated.

Reveling in Slow Reading...

I always believed I was a fairly slow reader. It doesn't really matter I suppose. Do I enjoy what I read? Yes. Does my father, the man who blows through two hardcover new releases in a 8 hour period while waiting to have surgery also enjoy his books? I assume so. But what I have come to determine over the past three days, a period of time in which I purchased a new book, read only that title and finished only 10 pages, is that I do not read slowly but read sporadically. What do I mean? I mean that I read a paragraph and am inspired and begin jotting notes in the margins. Then I'll make it through another paragraph, dog ear and abandon the page altogether. I love to read, I drool and spatter the pages of good prose with my saliva, but the time I have to to write is so minimal that I hoard it like a squirrel would acorns in November. My point, yes I do have one, it that when I'm and gray and wear matching purple paisley dresses with my girlfriend, then I'll worry about not reading quickly enough. Until then, slow sporadic consumption of words with intermittent pit stops for chicken scratch will have to do.

GO OBAMA!!!

Well, they did it. Healthcare, at least I think they did. I'm not exactly sure why they have to vote so many times and why they insist on using a gavel, but none the less, they did it. Go President Obama! Hell yes we can! It gets me all firedup and patriotic. Can't you tell? Well, if you can't take my word for it. It is a dreary Monday morning in Manhattan. Ironically, I'm sitting in my doctor's waiting room. I'm tempted to go running up to the receptionist (pardon me, administrative assistant) and say excitedly, "this is all free right!?" For some reason I do not think they would be quite as amused as I am (I tend to amuse myself easily, it's a G-d given blessing and curse at one time), considering they are sweeping in a bundle of cash from this poor bookseller. I know, cry me a river, but seriously, this whole "out of network" bullshit isn't necessary, at least not to my pocketbook (which I stress is no Berkin to begin with). But seriously, "out of network"? Whose network? The almightly gods of United Health Care? Apparently so. But what? Did my OBGYN miss orientation? Was he not allowed to rush or pledge some secret, underground fraternity, therefore is now labeled as an outcast or (insert gasp) an "out of network" provider! G-d forbid! Can I help my doc out here, write a letter? I suppose calling 311 for this matter wouldn't help. So for once in my life I'm left speechless with a large "out of network" charge on my Master Card. and once again, the grand MC, accepted everywhere you want to be, even the gyno.

Frustration...

So apparently it is much easier to setup your own FB page for your blog and have numerous individuals as your friends than it is to have more than five individuals follow your blog. Did that make sense? Then again, those five individual don't exactly count (no offense to any of the five). Let me explain... One is the girlfriend, one is the best friend (well two actually), one is best friend's girlfriend and the last is a friend of the friend... Oh forget it...

Onward and upward... Last night my girlfriend leans over on the subways and plucks a gray hair from my head. Foreplay. My first gray hair. I find another one this morning before I get into the shower and briefly debate bringing home hair dye this evening, having the girlfriend dye my hair and swearing her to secrecy. Then I came to my senses. I am numb to any expectations of beauty society imposes upon me. Is that a wrinkle I see?

Here it is!!!

http://www.ecosalon.com/orgasmic-organic-aphrodisiac-foods-for-great-healthy-sex/

Oh, how proud I am of myself!!!