Downtown Orange is a fun little neighborhood, all walkable streets and overpriced antique stores. Of late, however, it’s been getting some pretty good restaurants. The Filling Station is an old gas station, reworked as a diner. They serve a good solid breakfast and lunch, nothing especially creative, but always tasty and they have a great outdoor patio.
I’ve been on a food-book kick lately - Anthony Bourdain and Bill Buford and the fabulous Birthday Cake book. The other day, I was at a thrift store and grabbed a bunch of books at random. This one is good:
Partly, I like it because I’m familiar with a lot of the places and foods that she describes, partly because I liike the gossipy style and vivid descriptions.
I’m a long-time fan of peanut butter with chocolate, but tend to go through phases with it. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed Newman’s Own Peanut Butter Cups in milk chocolate and dark chocolate. I bought one of each on a whim and had finished both by the end of the day. Went back for (one) more the next day … and the next … and had to force myself to cut down to once a week after that. I hope that this wave of the addiction wears off soon; in the meantime, at least it’s organic!
so I’ve extolled on the wonders of ABC’s on-line shows for those of us who pretend that we don’t watch TV (you know who you are). I finally admitted that I’d been fighting off a cold for weeks, so spent the weekend lounging/sleeping. My original plan was to catch up on podcasts, finish my very good book and call a few friends. Instead, I watched Brothers and Sisters.
One of my popculture friends mentioned in passing that she was watching it. I was mildly intrigued, wondering how any show with a cast that large and relatively well-known managed to get on the air - isn’t everyone over dramas? - and I was sick. Sick calls for TV and for whatever reason (I’m guessing maybe it’s not doing as well as hoped?). ABC has the entire season to date available for viewing.
And so I did. And I’m not saying that you should rush out and watch it, but if you’ve got a little time on your hands and you want a show where you can yell at the characters when they are dumb and occasionally disparage the writing and wonder anew if Calista Flockhart is the mutant gene from which spawned the Olsen Twins but not be totally embarrassed to be watching, well, then I’ve got a show for you.
Clearly, I’m eying totes these days. These are by Amy Kathryn, about whom I know very little except that Bags! Pretty!
I was at the post office and there was this display rack of red postcards advertising lala - trade your CD’s for a dollar! and I thought - huh. I’d like like to trade CD’s for a dollar and so I went home and looked up lala.com and now 35 people have CD’s that I didn’t want anymore and I have 35 CD’s that I do want. And they gave me a cute t-shirt for pimping out their service to my friends. It’s like … recycling! and addictive. and I wish that the mailman would deliver on Sundays.
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(Photo: Kagen McLeod)
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Y ou never forget your first fall. Mine was in the stairwell of my building. I was simultaneously putting on my coat while balancing a behemoth shoulder satchel and two bags of recycling while wearing, of course, a ridiculously pitched pair of Barbie-appropriate pumps. I was three blocks away before I realized my tights were torn and both knees were bleeding.
With the sheer volume of crap we lug around, the urge to be the first in the crosswalk when the light changes, and our beloved, perilous footwear, it is no wonder that a stroll down Madison Avenue can be a dangerous act for women. Sidewalk cracks, iPod-induced disorientation, and cell-phone walk-and-talk only add to the inevitability of trips and slips. The most hazardous zone by far is the subway, where the potential for a chipped tooth and scraped palms lies at the bottom of every stairway.
When the inevitable occurs, try the following for minimal bruising to body and ego:
1. Go limp. If you try to play it off like you were just breaking into a jog, you’ll gain momentum, which means a harder impact.
2. Use your hands. Grab on to a wall, banister, or person (taking care not to bring them down with you). You won’t land as hard or bruise as much.
3. It’s better to fall backward on your behind than forward on your face. The exception is climbing stairs, in which case attempt to catch yourself with your hands and knees. In all instances, avoid the chin plant.
4. Get up as fast as possible, with little fanfare. Don’t examine the sidewalk accusingly. Tell concerned passersby you’re fine, and walk away briskly.
5. Try to laugh. I took a nasty plunge down the main staircase at the Astor Place Barnes & Noble (knee-high, stack-heel boots). I picked myself up, straightened my skirt, and asked, nonchalantly, “Who wants my number?” We fall down. It happens. The best we can do is try to ensure we don’t fall apart.
just in case the basil won’t come back, these little packets of organic spices would be fantastic. Expensive, but fantastic.
I’m such a sucker for packaging.
at the Rudolf Stingel exhibit at MCA Chicago, the walls are made of foam core with silver on top and you can write on them or color or otherwise make them your own. Like this:
I wrote a love poem to Kris and doodled a bit, just to take advantage of the opportunity.
