Blackandwhiteandgreenandkhaki

I feel like what Elements of Style wanted for her office is sort of what I want for my living room.

Powder Room

Should we grasscloth it like this?

Turquoise it like dis?

Stripe it vertically?

Stripe it horizontally?

I went to dinner with friends.

Some bump baby bellies.

Some don't.

Baseball, Air Conditioning, and Inane Arguments

We went to see the Rangers play last week (or maybe it was the week before). We borrowed Hub's parents' car so that we could take advantage of the complimentary Lexus valet, and his friend had free extra tickets for his company's suite, so it was quite the economical evening. I pulled my spoiled rump off the cooling seats long enough to check my ticket and have my bag searched and immediately rode up the elevator to the air conditioned, food and beverage-stocked suite. To me, these things in combination make baseball considerably more enjoyable. I have absolutely no nostalgic, romantic notions about the cheap seats or peanuts or cracker jacks or whatever. I prefer an ice cold, limed Corona and a seat inside, thank you. And I wouldn't mind leaving around the 7th inning or so. Judge away.

I did not eat this food b/c we'd just had dinner at home (the mussels actually), but I did indulge in a very private and gluttonous moment with a monstrous ice cream Sundae. Caramel!

Here's Hub & Co. squabbling over correct, non-injurous workout methods or the exact wording of a Groundskeeper Willie quote or whether the term "sports dork" is an oxymoron or something equally inane and sure to make me pay more attention to the game.

Flexing my Mussels! (Ha!)

I made mussels the other night for the first time ever. I was nervous. Mussels are like lobsters for beginners. I was so nervous, in fact, that I swore to Hub that I was going to faithfully follow the recipe, measuring and timing. I tried to have all my supplies at the ready. I made Hub clean the mussels themselves, and then they started moving, opening and closing their snapping shells. (O.K. so they weren't really snapping.) I do wish I had taken pictures.

This was my method (recipe promptly out the window), and it was easy, so there was no need to be nervous.

I put a couple tablespoons of olive oil with a couple tablespoons of butter and let it warm on medium until it stopped foaming and browned slightly. I dropped in three cloves of sliced (not minced, how cloddish) garlic, a pinch of red pepper flakes, and about a teaspoon of fennel seeds and let them all stew and soften in the fat for about a minute. Then a poured about a cup (maybe more) of white wine (I like my Chardonay like I like my men. Oaky. Wait, that doesn't make sense. Unless I meant from Oklahoma... which I didn't.)

Where was I? I let the broth reduce awhile, and then I apologized to the little guys and... dropped them all in that big steaming pot and heartlessly clamped the lid down with a clang. After the screaming subsided (just kidding), after about seven minutes, we pulled them off the heat, finished cooking the linguine, and served it all up--TA DA!--with a generous ladle of the broth and a side of whole wheat baguette. Easy. I felt very Julie and Julia.

P.S. Just so I'm clear, I want you to know that I steal all my pictures. I steal them from everywhere. I don't steal from anyone's Flickr account or anything like that, but I mean, you've got to be noticing that I'm not citing. I just wanted to confess and get it out there.

Sickly

O.K., first of all, why is my nose still running? I hate sneezing nine hundred times throughout the day when other people feel obligated to "bless you." Also, I have this little cough where I have to clear my throat, not in a big hacking way, but in a little huhch, huh, huhch, humm kind of way. It's fairly quiet, like a pretend cough, a petite cough. I don't really even notice I'm doing it, which is why it's driving Hub a little crazy. I try to apologize for it, and he says it's alright, but he'll imitate me and kinda laugh at me when I do it, which is the nicest way to communicate that I need to just stop it already.

New York: Songs and Schedules

Do you know "A Heart in New York" by these two? "New York like a scene from all those movies... Here's to you, New York..." and so on. I went through a Simon & Garfunkel phase.

There's also "NYC" by these guys.

I have New York on the brain because we're going to Cooperstown and NYC in late October with some friends, which means I will be wearing a coat and boots and skipping through crisp leaves. If you're lucky, I'll post my fully gridded, labeled, verified schedule later, but our loose itinerary right now is to go to Cooperstown for the weekend, visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame (yessss!) and local brewery. Then we'll head back into Manhattan Sunday where the following will happen:

1. Carter will make out with Eric Ripert.

2. We'll rest on these benches.

3. Jen and I will take in Wicked (most likely sans spouses).

4. I will reenact this whole scene while standing in line at Zabar's... "Rose. That is a lovely name." "Zip, zip." "One dollar. That's all I have. One dollar." "And I'm Henry." "Happy Thangsgibing back." (Stop me.)

5. We'll watch this guy play young Hamlet. (Afterwards, we'll ask him if he's impregnated any more nannies lately.)

5. We'll spiral our way up to the top of the Guggenheim, muttering "I don't get it."

So what else should we do? I'm open to suggestions.