Times flies

and so goes by the wayside the plan for blogging on a daily basis. Sometimes, you get caught up . . . doing the stuff you want to blog about, which displaces the blogging. Which, I suppose, is better than blogging but not having the time to do the stuff you want to blog about, because, well, what would you blog about?

Ah, and so it goes.

So should I recap the week? Well, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday involved late nights at work. The big focus was what should I eat at my desk? Ever the Indian, I turned to comfort food and ordered from Bukhara Grill. I love their chicken kebabs. They are delicious. They are marinated in spices, coriander and mint, and they make me want to eat, eat, eat. I try to tell myself it's OK to eat a lot because it's all protein. And so the theory goes . . .

The Shakster is coming to stay with me tonight. How very exciting. I am sure we will drink red wine, listen to Tina Turner and eat a lot. It will be like being in Sierra Leone again, but with electricity and easy access to public transport.

Night out in Brooklyn

I have decided to get out a bit more, in other words, go out further and farther. So last night, I went off with McPanj to try Canaille in Brooklyn. Well, a D train ride later to Atlantic Avenue, a 10-minute walk down the wrong direction, a 10-minute about-face, a further 10-minutes in the right direction, and lo and behold I found myself in a lovely, charming restaurant. Where a patient McPanj had waited for me.

We shared a calamari salad, which was delightfully fresh, and then we both ordered the lobster roll. I think we felt slightly cheated - McPanj because she found the lobster just a little too salty, and me because - well, feeling cheated is my grouchy schtick. It's my outlook for the world. No, no - it's because even though I wolfed down my lobster roll and thoroughly enjoyed it, I thought there just wasn't enough. Sure, there was a plate of frites on the side, delicious and all, but, well, I wanted more lobster and a larger roll.

But, really, a minor complaint because the place truly was charming. We shared the creme brulee, which I washed down with some calvados (ah, nothing like warming your pipes and your stomach with some brandy), and McPanj experimented with a "bio-dynamic" dessert wine from the Rhone Valley. Apparently bio-dynamic is the new organic but way cooler.

So, let's be bio-dynamic.

Julie and Julia

I saw Julie and Julia with Puxy last night. OK movie -- it was long! We left the theatre at 1am and it was raining.

There was absolutely no chemistry whatsoever between Julie and her husband. And when he left her, I didn't care. And when he returned to her, I didn't particularly care.

On the other hand, there was great chemistry between Julia and her husband. They seemed to love each other, not just in a I'm in my middle age and I've got you with me for my winter years, but also in a passionate, romantic way. (Although I was a bit disappointed that they made a point of putting out both the bedside lamps before doing their deed together. After all, a little bit of light never hurt anyone. Or anything.)

Mostly, I liked Julia's zest for life. I saw her smelling some green herbs (let's call them mint?) and thought, I should go through life sniffing things. Of course, this morning when I walked back from the gym and saw a huge pile of dog poop on the sidewalk (so big that I wondered whether it was human excrement) I was grateful for my ability to turn all of my senses inwards.

And so it is

OK, the pressure has mounted. It's 3:02am as I type this and you're wondering, well, where's that daily post that you promised us about your uplifting life? And this on top of inihtar's comment that I should stop blogging about blogging and just blog (whatever that means!).



So, the day was largely uneventful. Work was work was work. And then I came home. And instead of going to the gym, I thought that the best thing would be to open the freezer and see what ice-cream I had inside it. Which was an exciting adventure because two weeks ago I had a party and a friend bought a ton of different ice-creams as a present. But, to my chagrin, I realized that I had finished the rasberry sorbet stick with vanilla inside last week, and was left with a variety of chocolate flavours. Which normally would have been fantastic . . . but I was craving that rasberry sorbet with vanilla.


The day picked up. I went to see Okrafor and gang for drinks. I told her about how my plant is guarding my apartment/ opening it up for robbers and thieves. You see, the plant, a gift, is shedding leaves like there is no tomorrow. So, finally, I gave in and said, listen you needy child, I will move you to the windowsill, open the window so that you get (1) air, (2) light, and (3) I will give you extra water. In return, you will grow and beautiful. However, the plant continues to shed. My apartment currently smells like a plant carcass.



I don't think I can have kids. What if they don't grow in the way that I expect?



Thoughts for another day.

The countdown begins

One of the reasons I thought about blogging was because, well, I'm going to turn 30 on July 9, 2010. And I thought to myself, I should document the last year of my 20s to ensure that I live life to the fullest and that I do something potentially interesting and/or challenging and/or meaningful and/or inspiring and/or [insert adjective that is positive] every single day. And then I will tell the world (meaning you, my (single?) dear reader) about this. And this blog will hold me accountable to it all: I will feel the need to live, and then to record the details of my living/life in narrative form. And so it goes . . .

Except I'm about a month and a little more late to the party, which was supposed to start on July 9, 2009. But - whatever! The cliche goes "better late than never" for a reason.

Which I suppose means that I should make today's post substantive. I could talk about how I went to the gym for the first time in 2.5 weeks and listened to "Sex on Fire" by Kings of Leon on repeat while I ran/ walked/ huffed/ puffed/ caught my breath/ sweated like a pig on the treadmill. But somehow I feel like that's a personal narrative that no one really needs to know about.

So, good night!

So I have decided to blog

I have thought long and hard about whether or not to blog. On the one hand, great venue for (supposedly) creative thoughts! On the other hand, must censor myself to ensure I give nothing away so that, oh, I don't know, I preserve the record for whatever it is that I want to do with the rest of my life.

And what is that?

(Obviously be successful at my present job. Ah, see, the censorship begins already.)

And so it is . . .

I throw caution to the wind. Wind, catch caution!