Wednesday's Wordle: 100 days

Shuesday: Summer Sandal Trifecta

Two pair I won't be sporting this summer - Uncomfortable much? and Too Frilly! - and one for which, "I die." Come on. Who doesn't want a shoe in the colour /feather/?

Icons we mourn: Bea Arthur

"Bea Arthur, who used her husky voice, commanding stature and flair for the comic jab to create two of the most endearing battle-axes in television history, Maude Findlay in the groundbreaking situation comedy “Maude” and Dorothy Zbornak in “The Golden Girls,” died Saturday at her home in Los Angeles. Ms. Arthur received 11 Emmy Award nominations, winning twice — in 1977 for “Maude” and in 1988 for “The Golden Girls.” She was a seasoned and accomplished theater actress and singer before she became a television star and a celebrity in midcareer, and she won a Tony Award in 1966 for playing Angela Lansbury’s best friend, the drunken actress Vera Charles, in “Mame.”"

OK, I'm /really/ going to miss Bea Arthur. Talk about guts. Also, nor relying on one's looks as an actress. By which I mean she didn't always look as gorgeous as she does in the photo to the left, and it didn't matter a whit.

My Blair Lady

Darling, of course I wanted milk in my tea. What's the matter with you?

Wednesday's Wordle: A tisket, a tasket

Wordle

Shuesday: Not in this lifetime Part 2

Again with the Daily Candy leading us astray? I'd rather have five pairs of shoes re-heeled than wear these garish clogs. They're not /actually/ better than hideous Crocs, they're just safer. Ugh.

Previously

Off kilter because ...

what I meant to say in the previous post was the following:

Do you ever have those days when things seem just a little bit off? Today was definitely one of those days, and I think it's my hair.

You see, I parted my hair on the "wrong" side today. Normally when I do that, it throws my neck off a little bit, because I'm not used to it (if you think I'm crazy, either you've never changed your part, or you don't have enough hair for it to make a difference). There are reasons I won't bore you with to switch up your part, but the point is, today it threw my neck and the day off. And that's not cool.

I could blame the weather - after a sunny warm weekend, it regressed to Seattle in December (in the days before they got snow for months and months) today - or I could blame the lack of sleep, but I think it's the hair.

And when I went looking for an image of "woman frustrated", please note just how many of them involve hair pulling of some kind ....

Weekend Update: Off Kilter

The weekend was a smash - Friday night Leaving Drinks here*, followed, somewhat inexplicably by bbq here (four martinis and a rye and ginger will do that to a girl), and then home to bed.

Woke up surprisingly well and headed back to Citi Field for (another) Mets game - this one sunny and super fast, but at least they won. Note: They are checking everyone's ID every time, so don't leave it at your seat. The good news about the game's speedy conclusion was that we weren't panicked as we changed for dinner at Insieme (good, but a little on the salty side, again), and Impressionism.

You'd think Jeremy Irons and Joan Allen could do no wrong, and while Irons was excellent, Allen was brittle and not well directed. The material was really at fault. I've read there was much last minute work on the production, including cutting a number of the flashback sequences, but the three or four excellent moments were not enough to sustain an entire play, and the multi-media was distracting. Of course, the tourist-heavy audience applauded effusively when the principals appeared at the start, and gave them a standing O at the end. Our seats were heavenly, but I can't recommend it.

We popped into Flute for a glass of champagne (whilst the champagne was excellent, the music was loud and inappropriate) and then walked from Times Square to the Upper East 90's. It was a gorgeous night to dawdle up the Park under the cherry trees.

The next morning saw a far-too-early brunch at Paradou (where too early means before they can legally serve champagne, at least when we sat down) and then an afternoon of wandering and sipping prosecco at various west side establishments with sidewalk patios.

It doesn't get much better.


* although /actual/ Leaving has been postponed until sometime in late May/June, Drinks were already on everyone's calendar, so what the heck, cocktails never hurt anyone)

Wednesday's Wordle: Play Ball!

Shuesday: The mitten-glove theory, Part 2

These are ridiculous. Are they supposed to shield the outside of your foot from the splash of the street? Are they asymetrical, or ...

I don't get it.

Previously

Le Bernardin

On Saturday night, we had one of the definitive meals in today's culinary world, at least when it comes to seafood, the Chef's Tasting Menu, with wine pairings, at Le Bernardin.

Amuse Bouche
Poached Lobster with Curried Butternut Squash Soup
Lillet (my choice)

Salmon-Caviar
Thinly Pounded Smoked Salmon Carpaccio; Toasted Brioche and Caviar
Kasumi Tsuru, Yamahai Ginjo, Hyogo, Sake

Crab
Stuffed Zucchini Flowers with Peekytoe Crab; Black Truffle Sauce
Riesling Kabinett, Karthauserhof, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer 2007

Halibut
Poached Halibut; Braised Daikon, Baby Radish and Turnips; Sesame Court Bouillon
Traminer, Domaine Andre Tissot, Arbois, Jura 2006

Lobster
Baked Lobster; Salsify; Sauce Gribiche
Blaufränkisch "Brandkraften" Wenzel, Neusiedlersee-Hügelland, Austria 2002

Black Bass*
Crispy Black Bass; Braised Celery and Parsnip Custard; Iberico Ham-Green Peppercorn Sauce
Rioja, Reserve ‘Vina Ardanza’, La Rioja Alta 2000

Surf and Turf
Escolar and Seared Kobe Beef; Sea Bean Salad and Eggplant Fries; Mr. Kaufman's Pesto and Anchovy Sauce
Chateau Haut-Bages Averous, Pauillac Bordeaux 2001

Yogurt
Vanilla Yogurt Parfait, Rhubarb Marmelade, Basil Ice Cream, Yogurt Sponge
Torrontez Sparkling – Deseado Familia Schroeder, Patagonia Argentina

Chocolate-Chicory
Chocolate Cremeux, Pain de Genes, Orange "Meringue", Chicory Ice Cream
Muskat Ottonel, Trockenbeerenauslese No. 4, Kracher, Austria 2002

*Not to be confused with Chuck Bass

Must haves: Picnic in the Park

As I wandered through the Park this weekend, I realized I don't have a great park blanket.

Fortunatly, Crate & Barrel came to my rescue (they're just so there for me). Sarcasm aside, this one is pretty, easily spotted by fellow picnickers, affordable, and practical (soft on one wide and water resistant on the other).

Have a lovely weekend!

Oh the Places You'll Go: Caracas

The FG has been thither and yon across this nation and her homeland to the north. She spent the month between final exams and graduation driving 'round Europe, and taught English in the Far East for a year. She even made it to East Africa years and years ago. But until last weekend, she'd never been to South America.

There was a wedding to attend in Caracas on a Saturday night, and we had the points to cover the tickets. I know, you've heard bad things about Caracas in general, and Hugo Chávez in particular, but the bride and groom were taking care of the details, and it meant a lot to them that we were making the trip. After a morning spent at Bliss and a casual afternoon of packing, we hopped on a Continental flight to Houston.

As you may be aware if you've ever looked at a map of the Americas, Houston is not exactly en route to Caracas from NYC. In fact, given that Caracas is east of NYC, it is well out of the way. But like I said, there were points involved. So we flew to Houston. It turns out that, while Continental serves "food" on its flights (which we guiltily consumed), you can't get dinner, or much of anything to eat, at the Houston airport after 10:00 pm. This is not helpful when one's plane lands at 9:45 pm. Fortunately, the executive lounge serves free alcohol until 11:15, and stocks ample supplies of fruit, cheese and crackers. So we nibbled, and flew again.

It's been a long time since I've flown overnight, and I've never enjoyed it. This time, at least we had three seats to the two of us, and I think I got a wink or two, but I'd kept my expectations appropriately low. One of our fellow passengers was channeling Jack Colton - open white shirt, obvious stubble, blonde streaked mane, convertible pants, Camelbak. It was sort of amazing. When we arrived at the airport, an enormous poster of President Chávez and the Venezuelan satellite greeted us. Immigration was easy, and our bags eventually showed up, intact. We went through a final round of security, emerging in the meet and greet area, where our driver would be waiting for us.

Except that he wasn't.

Ways I wanted to start my first experience in South America, with very limited Spanish, definitely included being met by my driver at the airport on arrival. Especially after a night on an airplane, landing at 5:15 am.

We stood about, fending off offers of rides, currency exchange, and who knows what else, waiting for the guy with the secret letters on the sign (not our names, I think for safety reasons). While I can't recommend it, the slightly tense waiting time definitely banished any remaining sleepiness. The driver eventually showed up, citing bad traffic, and we were off.

The traffic was bad, and we were stuck in a tunnel for a good 10 minutes, which didn't help our nerves. While the airport is on the Caribbean coast, Caracas itself is inland, over a mountain range, Cerro Ávila. As you cross over, impossibly balanced, brightly coloured houses begin to cover the hillsides. Called barrios, they pile one atop the other on steep slopes. Most seemed to have electricity, but we couldn't see real roads of any kind and one wonders how people get to and from the city (never mind what devastation would occur in the event of a mudslide). Apparently 50% of the population of Caracas lives in the barrios.

We arrived at the hotel safe and sound after about 45 minutes, and immediately crashed. The afternoon was spent by the pool, resting up for the wedding that night.

Wednesday's Wordle: Creeping Equality

In a good way ...

Shuesday: Flat Ladies

Why are Michelle Obama and Carla Bruni wearing flats all the time?

I celebrate the "end of Wife Wear,"

Although Nancy Reagan famously wore red and Barbara Bush chose royal blue, the spirit has been the same since Jacqueline Kennedy set the gold standard of tailored coat and pillbox hat in 1961. That first lady may have looked her most glamorous in a silk headscarf, a pair of Capri pants, bare legs and ballerinas — but in public she was obliged to look “appropriate.” (...) From a black cardigan with the British prime minister at 10 Downing Street to a sparkly knit from the sportswear brand J. Crew with his wife, the message was clear: not just that a White House wardrobe need not be expensive, but that it does not have to be formal. Only a string of pearls links Mrs. Obama with any kind of historic dressing up.

It is no secret where Mrs. Obama finds her wardrobe: via the Chicago boutique Ikram. But although she exudes pride both in being the wife of the first African-American president and as a mother of two girls, the only fashion message she seems eager to convey is that she is her own woman. Hats off (especially pill boxes and “My Fair Lady” millinery) to women who fought for equality by grabbing pantsuits from their male equals. But the first lady is making her own contribution to fashion history by dressing as a woman of strong character — rather than as a presidential wife.

But I still think it's weird that these two, strong, tall women (with great legs) wear flats consistently when in the company of their executive spouses.

(...) in their everyday lives, the stylish first ladies share one sartorial signature item: a preference for flat footwear. Granted, both women already stand tall: Michelle Obama is 5'11" while Bruni-Sarkozy, a former model,is said to be 5'9". President Barack Obama stands 6'1" 1/2, but President Nicolas Sarkozy is a mere 5'5", which helps explain why his wife would wear flats. (emphasis mine)

How does this explain it, exactly? Bruni owns heels, but the photo above included the note that Bruni was "away from her husband" that day.

I'm not saying that it's impossible that both women genuinely prefer flats. What I'm saying is that they both have more style in their baby fingers than ninety percent of women in the world, and the other ninety percent know that heels are for dress up occasions. And I can't believe that Obama and Sarkozy, two national leaders, confident enough to have married tall women, would censor their footwear (not that the ladies would stand for that). So what's the story?

People, people who are ... people

TK posted this and said she couldn't pick which to highlight. I don't have that problem.

People Who Claim to Be Afraid of Clowns

These people (and they are numerous) are attempting to cultivate a cute quirk, but they are really just aping a cute quirk cultivated by thousands of cute-quirk-cultivators before them in a giant, gross, boring feedback loop. Yes, clowns can be mildly creepy. But come on. Among the many things that are scarier than clowns: fire, earthquakes, a guy with a knife, riding the bus, colon cancer, falling down the stairs (it could happen at any time!), rapists, people who just kind of look a little rapey and are standing too close to you in line at 7-Eleven, Marlo from The Wire, influenza, and scissors.

People Who Don't Watch TV

Symbolically not doing something for the sake of not doing it is almost never evidence of sophistication. It is evidence of not knowing what you're fucking talking about. Are we really still having this conversation? Television is a part of the cultural landscape at this point—a lot of it is good. A lot of it is bad, some of which is also good. You know, LIKE ALL THINGS MADE BY HUMANS? Obviously it is also a good idea to go outside once in a while. But the presence of a television in your home does not make that decision for you. You make it. Feel free to still go outside at any time.

(...)

People Who Studied Abroad in a Third-World Country

Congratulations.

(...)

People Who Are Pretty and Smart and Funny and Nice

You probably want to hate these people, but why bother? They are absolutely wonderful, and all we can do is deal with it and hope to be charming enough that they will some day mate with us so that our children can absorb some of their impossible magic.

(...)

People Who Don't Believe in Evolution but Love Antibiotics

Seriously? Either you believe in science or you don't. If you want to say sentences to me like "God made the earth 29 years ago out of Billy Graham's stool" or "Every time you take the morning-after pill, Satan has two orgasms," then go ahead and stay away from Dr. Syringey O'Medicine, MD, from here on out. Because you know that pill that made your strep throat go away? Science invented that. For you. Hey, why don't you just pray for God to take care of that root canal? I'll tell you why: Because God didn't go to dental school, because dental schools don't admit people who DON'T EXIST.

People Who Try to Pretend Like They Already Knew the Story About Jimmy Stewart Smuggling a Yeti Hand out of Nepal in His Wife's Underpants

For a rainy Friday

Because I'm blue, and because I want a cupcake.

Wednesday's Wordle: Keep telling yourself that