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At least two different people told me that I looked hot and should dress like a goth more often. I don't think I could handle the time and effort it took to put on that much eyeliner on a regular basis. The rest of the pictures (from Kirsten's party and more) are here. Happy Halloween!
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I can hardly believe that my body is still sore from my boot camp workout Friday morning. I'm really not sure how I'm going to do it three mornings this week and still manage to move, let alone lift my arms up over my head without wincing. I was so wiped out from the morning's workout that I didn't make it out on Friday night, but I did make it to Kirsten's Halloween party last night. Many thanks to Katie, Jen, Rachel, Kim, Nikki, and April for coming over early to get ready. Pictures will be up tomorrow for your Halloween pleasure. . .
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Not only did I wake up and get out of bed before it was light out this morning, but I willingly went out to Washington Square Park for a boot-camp style workout. As I was cleaning out a huge pile of mail, I stumbled across a flyer from Bootcamp Republic, announcing their next session. Assuming it was some sort of message, and inspired by Doug and Leora, enrolled in a similar program in Brooklyn, (they were out during OJ doing squat thrusts and situps with huge water jugs; I was proud enough that I went for a run), I went for my free trial workout. It's now light out, and I'm not sure my quads are going to support me for the rest of the day, but we'll see how it goes.
This madness and the Pilates were inspired by the fact that I really want to improve my fitness level before my 35th birthday, which is rapidly approaching, and maintain it thereafter. When I did the AIDS ride and other long-distance rides, I went to spin classes and strength training several times a week, and yoga once a week. Now my workouts are spotty, irregular, and certainly nowhere near as intense as a spin class. I barely went biking this summer, and my flexibility has dwindled to a pathetic level. It's sad and frustrating, but I know I'm the only one who can do anything about it, and I know I have the capacity to do it. So -- wish me luck and think of me as you're snuggled in your beds every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 6am for the next few weeks. And don't be upset if I can't go out late with you on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. It's nothing personal.
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*for best results, just imagine Madeline Kahn in Blazing Saddles.
You can tell how busy I am by the amount of crap piled up on my dining table, the number of dishes in my sink, and the degree to which my apartment is in a state of general disarray. Thankfully, after tonight (planned night in), the piles on the table are a little smaller, the dishes are washed, I've written one out of three things I wanted to write for Gothamist tomorrow, and I'm getting to bed at a reasonable hour. As my friend Katie pointed out, my blog posts are getting shorter and shorter. I'm just tired these days. After returning from OJ, I've been going nonstop -- work's been busy, I went to the Human Rights First gala dinner on Monday, and had dinner with Jenn at Joya (yum!) last night. My apologies, dear readers. I don't mean to be terse. And speaking of readers -- I've been checking out my stats lately, and I'm dying to know who the reader is from Chicago who did a Yahoo search for "blog by a woman named laren set in new york city." 'Fess up!
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From Ms. Lusty Lady in her recent Village Voice column. (I'm the L. who used the phrase "dating yourself.") Thanks!
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Any weekend that leaves your abs in pain from laughing hysterically is a good one, at least in my book. Thanks to all for another year of ridiculousness, summed up in a phrase that made me laugh more than anything in a while: while searching for the word "flaccid," John mistakenly uttered the phrase "flatulent penis," and then spent a decent amount of time describing what this would look like, in more detail than I'd ever, EVER, want to imagine. The pictures (of the weekend, not of the flatulent penis) are here.
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If you start to do something for a while, you might notice a pattern. I think I have a dating pattern. I might date someone for a while, somewhere on the continuum between casually and not-so-casually. It fizzles out for whatever reason, then I go back to some form of internet dating, which I swore off the last time I did it. I do it for about a month, decide it's basically a waste of time, then go back to my laissez-faire dating scheme, during which I will inevitably meet someone (in person) who interests me. And so on, and so on. Right now I'm in the "why am I wasting my time with something as irritating and unproductive as JDate when I barely have time to see my friends and family I actually want to see?" phase. Next comes laissez-faire. Sigh.
Last night I got to see a whole slew of beach house folks -- Katie, Matt, Kim, Nikki, Marla, Chip (I'm sure I missed one or two -- I haven't had coffee yet, please forgive me) -- we all went to see Matty Z.'s band, the Old Nationals, which I really liked, although I didn't get to see their whole set. Also got to catch up with Dens, who stopped by after getting my Dodgeball message. This was quite fortuitous, as Katie and I had just recruited Matt and Nikki to join and they have been having some tech issues. I told them Dens would take care of it for them (he's the founder/creator of Dodgeball) -- I'm sure he loved that.
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I figured since I've been so lame about blogging lately, the least I could do was give you a good picture. I was up in Maine this weekend with the family, and after my irritating trip up (which I'll expound upon some other time), I had a relaxing weekend, and enjoyed an amazing lobster roll at Scales in the Portland Public Market -- butter, lemon, lobster. End of story. Chip was winding down his fall foliage tour and met me in Portland, so we drove back to NYC together. After talking up Rein's Deli, as we hungrily turned into Vernon, CT, we discovered that the power had gone out in the town, so Rein's was closed. Still hungry, we almost ended up at a Taco Bell (it would have only been my second exposure to a Taco Bell), but at the last minute, spotted Little Mark's BBQ. Ribs, sweet potato fries, pickles, cole slaw, and birch beer weren't the best I'd ever had, but infinitely better than anything we could've gotten at Taco Bell, that's for damn sure. Chip was also kind enough to get me Julie & Julia, which I recently wrote about on Gothamist. Very psyched about that -- thanks, Chip!
More on tonight's activities, featuring a vodka tour with the author of The Vodka Cookbook, later this week on Gothamist.
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Today is Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. It's a very convenient thing, really -- you can sin all year, it all gets wiped away in one fell swoop, and then you're all set. Even though I'm the Jewiest Jew in the family, I actually didn't manage to get to temple this year for the High Holidays. I didn't make reservations at the place I've gone in the past, and it's not so easy to just waltz into a temple on Rosh Hashanna or Yom Kippur (that's a whole other issue -- paying for tickets to High Holiday services?! Oy!). So, to observe the holiday in my own way, I slept late, worked out, did some work, did some errands, and am starting to prepare my break-fast dinner. Yes, I'm fasting, as I do most years (and I'm pretty cranky and ravenous at the moment, not to mention the vicious headache from lack of caffeine). I figure it's the least I can do. Break-fast tonight with my sister and cousin Sara will be an extremely non-traditional meal of artichokes with drawn butter, spaghetti and meatballs, and a salad, with a lemon pound cake that my sister is bringing. Why spaghetti and meatballs? Because I had ground turkey in the freezer, and it inspired me.
As I've gone about my day, I have taken some time to think and reflect over the past year. I've had some rough times, achieved some goals with patience and hard work, read my writing aloud for the first time, met new people, caught up with old friends, ate well, and thoroughly enjoyed myself in many ways. As I approach my 35th birthday at the end of this year (gasp!), I recognize some changes I want to make, but all in all, I'm very happy with my life. I wish you all a happy and healthy New Year, whether you're celebrating or not, and I hope your fast was as (surprisingly) easy as mine.
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