previews

later today (once patty is back in the frigid north, but compensating the temperature drop by having sunburn-hot skin) there will be some pictures of our wonderful-miami-weekend together and the beginning of a truck-load of hiliarious stories. til then, hang on tight...

weekendsies forever, please!

Sigh. It feels like ive had the longest extended weekend known to man. Ironically, its Wednesday; still, i’m not letting that bother me. So much fun has happened! Let’s see... Friday night I drove up to fort lauderdale to get benjamin from the airport; we got back and went out for sushi boats – sadly on the disappointing end... i still vividly remember the mackerel being very dry, as if it had been going about on the boat for like 10 days, lost at sea; but of course we enjoyed ourselves as much as we could, drinking sake and feasting on salmon, tuna, and various rolls. We finished the night off at a sports-bar next to the sushi boat spot, where we played some pool and then were engaged in conversation with two friends- both of whom played pool considerably better than us but kept trying to get us to have a friendly game of doubles that was interspersed with them making joint-trips to the bathroom while she brought her purse, only lasting about a minute each time– friendly, happy, funny, sassy, and obviously, on coke. Oh, miami. (The same girl who was involved in this pool-playing couple was from spain and would later allegedly be spotted sunbathing topless on my roof when ben was up there on Monday. What a small, weird world).

Saturday morning, after leaving me to sleep a few more hours, ben came down from the roofand woke me – we snacked on a lovely breakfast of fresh fruits and cottage cheese and then suited up for a few hours on the beach, reading in the sun- he, a novel- me, teen vogue! (ummmmm, not a joke). After a few hours tanning this way and that, and even going in for a swim (finally not icey cold), we drove over to the vagabond farmers market, loaded up on tomatoes, onion, cucumber, scallions, and a quart of fresh coconut water; then off for a desperately-needed-car-wash at the local eco-friendly spot. While we waited we had lunch at this cute little place next-door called ‘dogma’- basically like an old-school hamburger joint- you just walk up to the window, order your free-range hamburger or hotdog (veggie and turkey options to boot) and your beer of choice, and sit in the sunshine, reading the weekly local papers and relaxing. I tell you. Life does not get much better. Once the car was all spiffy, we proceeded to toodle around the design district- walking up and down the streets, which again were mostly deserted. Too bad, too, since most of the stores appear as if they focus on the same thing any old furniture, bedding, or interior design store in soho would- but yet are barely open or not-occupied- so of course you dont want to be the one person in the small store with the storekeep; and so the empty cycle continues.

After digesting our shared hamburger, we decided it was finally monty’s time- we sat for a few hours, had some more beer and snacks, and then headed back home as the sun was setting. Much later that night, i seem to recall there was some disappointing cuban food that we tried to make the best of; a walk around the neighborhood ending in chullos and latin american short-bread cookies with guava and caramel; and the looming knowledge that we would not only loose an hour of sleep with daylight savings, but also have to wake up absurdly early for a Sunday to make it to the red soxs spring training in fort myers.

No whining the morning of though! It wasnt sunny when we left at about 9am, but by the time we drove across alligator alley and through the everglades, across the state and north, the sun was in full force and it was gorgeous and warm and everything was right in the world. The spring training field was much smaller than any other baseball field ive seen or been to- seated maybe a few thousand? We got some beers and hotdogs and wandered around for while before the game started- the first few innings went by rather quickly, but then i got horribly dehydrated and cranky around number 3- that is, until i was saved by ben’s instinct to keep me supplied with water. I dont know how i rationalized not needing water when i was simultaneously sticking to the little plastic seat with my damp sundress, but somehow it slipped my mind. Anyway, saved.

We left the game a little early and stopped in naples on our way back to miami. Naples... the only thing i knew of it was that it was a haven for the wealthy and apparently, like palm beach but newer and somehow... less classy (if that is possible with wealthy enclaves?). We didnt see much of it, honestly, but we did find a little marina with several crab-shack-style restaurants and engaged in a feast of stone crabs, shrimp and salad bits, looking out on the water and boats- and apparently there was a manatee that swam by, although sadly this girl did not see. After finishing the two-hour trip home, i have a vague recollection of cocktails at a local bar, followed by an impulsive order of the national dish of colombia- beans, rice, fried egg, avocado, beef, and a nice fatty strip of pork fat with little tiny tidbits of actual meat on it. I dont know how or why we did it, but we did, and it was good.

Never-ending fun, huh? Monday we hit monty’s again for happy hour; followed by more food at joe allens- a really nice, quiet restaurant also on south beach, but on the bay side, and it was late- so it was tame and not that populated. And last night, we ended the whole shebang with a long walk on the beach at sunset, followed up by cocktails at the neighborhood "sandbar"- an amazing gem! I had run by it before and thought nothing of it- but the wall facing the sidewalk must be like a garage door- it was totally open and we were able to just walk through and sit there and get the best breeze possible without being flatly outside. Some random guy at the bar bought us jager shots (ha!) and proceeded to tell us his whole life story (law school, practicing lawyer, then med school, now doctor, ex-girlfriend is a GI doctor; from key west, old family, old money, blah blah blah), and we just narrowly escaped to grab take-out sushi and relax at home. The wonderful thing about people visiting is that the feeling they get rubs off on me– its like im on vacation with them (minus going to work), and i get to try all the new things they get to try, things i normally wouldnt just walk into.

A lovely lovely neverending pseudo-vacation...

As if the feelings couldnt get more positive? Today i received some lovely work compliments from the big man, which i’ve never heard before, and it really made my day. To finally feel somewhat recognized and competent? It makes me more relaxed being here than ive felt in a while...

And with that, off to finish up the day with a run outside and a little tidying up before miss park arrives tomorrow night! Unfortch the internet at home isnt working at the moment, but never fear- we’ll just have to replace a little modem and it should be smooth sailing for a little dual-posting-action. AND, coming attractions? Patty goes to montys, patty goes dancing on south beach, and patty gets to see latina culture in all its glory at the calle-ocho street fair on Sunday. I know, you can hardly wait.

xoxo

P: Where I'm Calling From (A Photo Essay)

Diane's RPI friend/my roommate Sheila's hs friend/my friend Brian bought Sheila and me these awesome sets of NYC gloves, as an advance thank-you, as he'll be crashing with us during Boston marathon weekend. So, inspired by my new favorite artist Christoph Niemann (of the "I LEGO N.Y." fame), I have made a little collage about my birth city. Also, I came home from Davis Sq/Somerville with Amy (shout-out-- Jessi!) and I'm really tired and I have to wake up and run 5 miles with her tomorrow.

love,

Patty

PS- Title borrowed from Raymond Carver...

Five boroughs, unite! (Uh oh, am getting PTSD flashbacks from the marathon experience...)

Where I'm from. A great excuse to flip people off.


Where I spent my childhood and adolescence wishing I was from instead.


Where I met you guys! Also, where we spent way too many hours on the 4 train...


The borough I miss most.


And this little borough cried, "wee, wee, wee," all the way home.

P: Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Morning

Annie, it sounds like you had an awesome part of weekend in Palm Beach--jealous! But I totally hear you about getting tired and wanting to have some down time to yourself. And...I'm glad to hear your foot is doing better! I hope you will soon be back up and running at full capacity. Also, that sushi at the strip mall sounds to die for...I can't wait to experience that all in less than one week! I was inspired by your various photo montages, and I realized I had yet to take pics of my immediate domicile and general life circumstances. These were photos snapped on our snow day on Monday, which means they were neither woodsy nor taken in the morning (I took them at 4pm). Here 'tis:

My apartment, the home where I hide...

Across the street from my apt (view of Beacon St; Fenway is towards the back-left)

My block. An excellent Mexican restaurant called Sol Azteca in the distance (despite its sign, it's actually a classy joint). To the left, across the divide, is Taberna de Haro, a Spanish tapas restaurant.

Down the block from me is the St. Mary's Green line C line T-stop. This is a large trolley at 3 cars. Sometimes it's only one.

In true Patty fashion, I've included a pic of my local supermarket, Johnny's. It's one block away. They charge $0.80 cents for a skinny bundle of scallions. That is a lot of money.

Around the block from my apt, tucked away from Beacon St, there are beautiful suburban-style houses. This neighborhood is called Brookline. Sydney Schwartz describes it as "where all the rich, Jewish people live."

FIN!

(sigh)

just got back from a mid-week sushi extravaganza. ok, not really an extravaganza, just dinner with the co-workers in coral gables. everyone had been trying to coordinate schedules to go have dinner at this sushi place, apparently for months. so finally it all worked out. on a tuesday night, no great shakes right? i was at work late and all i wanted to go was literally go home and flake and watch my beloved pacey from dawson's creek on his new sciencey-show, "fringe". but no-- a girl must buck up when she makes dinner plans, so buck up i did.

i spent the last 30 minutes at work making these cold-calls to kids who had been accepted to brooklyn law, to say "hi im an alum, do you have any questions," basically- which is a great idea, very warm, involving, caring- but on the other hand, so potentially awkward right? first, few people actually pick up. when someone does pick up, all i can think is, "you saw that an unlisted number was calling you and you picked up? who are you?" ... answer: they are either not phone-screeners, or perhaps they are just that kind of psycho person who *always* picks up, no matter what. dont worry, curiosity doesnt kill the cat in this story. i thankfully only dealt with one person who picked up today, and of course she barely had any questions, but she was sweet and we chatted for a little bit before i then went on to leave 5 more identical messages: "im an alum! congratulations! call me!" 

when i was leaving these messages it was like i had this brief out-of-body experience, where i could basically hear myself singing into strangers' voicemail. i mean, i know i tend to leave such messages for friends, varying in tones, pitch, rhythm- and i never really think about it. its just the sing-song message, right? normal to me. but then i thought, wow, there are two options here: the law school admitted nerd who listens to this version of me on their answering machine will either think:

 (a) this person is justifiably insane, the lady in the corner who is a middle aged modern dance teacher or "performance artist" who uses too many gestures in speech, still wears spandex leggings way past her prime, and has way too many mismatched accesories on,  making everyone cringe slightly in embarassment, or 

(b) how cool is this random person who apparently doesnt care that we're not friends? shes like ten years older than me and she is still leaving me a message as if we are besties. 

you know, in retrospect, i would rather contribute sing-song random messages in voicemails all over, on any day of the week, rather than sounding like the stuffy-faced lawyer that im sure otherwise makes these kind of cold calls. so bring it on.

anyway after going through this alumni-charity rigamoral, i met the girls & assorted husbands for dinner. the sushi restaurant was in a strip mall in the middle of coral gables- totally unassuming. next door is "georges pizza and pasta," and down from that? "blue by the pound" (some kind of pound-buffet? i dont know, read the title of that restaurant how you may: are you blue because you are eating pounds of gross food? thats the normal reading, isnt it?), and down from that, a walgreens, some trashy clothing store, and a quest diagnostics (you know, where they dispose of all your medical samplings after you go to the dr. gross.). so i walk to this sushi place and go in, and its like i was transformed into a heavenly little japanese kingdom- blonde wood paneling, clean, light, soothing, crowded but still peaceful. yes, perhaps it had something to do with my anticipation at popping ikura into my mouth, feeling those little salmon eggs pop against my tongue, but it was just so unexpected for a strip mall. the food was delicious, and we laughed and talked for over two hours... 

the only problem with going home after such a lovely time is this weird spaced-out-surburan feeling-- i never felt this way in new york, in the east village- but theres something irksome about leaving people to drive home and go into your apartment building where you barely see or hear anyone and just lock yourself away for the night. not that i am reminessing for those "better days" when i had to bang a hammer repeatedly on the floor to shut up my inspiring-rapper neighbors downstairs in apt 14, but it is quite a change to go from the vibrancy of a city to the apartment in a tower with a solitary view of the ocean.  maybe its a good thing, though, to be able to enjoy the best of both, without necessarily being uncomfortable in your surroundings- not always being trampled on in your personal and mental space. 

work was really freaking me out last week and earlier this week, but i think i finally have a somewhat minor hold on things- unfortunately, i also somehow keep thinking its wednesday night. i mean, i thought it was wednesday last night, and again tonight... wednesday night must be my default mood. no matter-- tomorrow it will be wednesday night for sure, and then i might feel normal again.  ive only got the rest of this week & then next to finish up my case-load for the next round of hearings in march, so the pressure is quite literally on. when im so hectic at work i think, "was this what finals time was like?" because i think that was probably the only time in the past 3 yrs (other than as a summer associate) where i legitimately felt like i barely had time to get up and pee and drink water because i was so frantic at researching and writing. how do the hours peel by so quickly? .... then again, after a few days of that kind of pace, once that job is all over and done with, its hard to transition back into normal: the default position then becomes facebook, facebook, email, nytimes, email, facebook. and the brain takes a minivacay until it has to kick into turbo gear again. can we ever find a place in the middle? i would quite like that. unlimited time but slight pressure, please.

enough random ranting. time to sign off and smell the wonderful groupings of tulips and baby's breath that are scattered around my apartment in random vases and pickle jars.  i must admit, i am jealous that i missed the snow up north yesterday, but i am also happy it is set to be 80 & 83 degrees on saturday and sunday respectively, so that i can loll around in springy dresses and watch the spring-training red soxs game with benjamin in the sun. i tell you, sometimes i think i could get used to this! the disclaimer of course, is that you would all have to relocate down here with me...

xoxo

sunday sunday

alas p, they are working you to the bone. just think- soon enough youll be on the beach and/or rooftop poolside.

this weekend was relaxing and lazy and lovely. friday after work i drove up to palm beach, to visit kim & ira- who were in town from nyc for a few days. kim & i went to her grandmas condo there last march for spring break- but this time she was staying at her aunt's place. anyway, wow. if youve never been to palm beach, its pretty insane to explain. picture the hampties, times a thousand- with a gorgeous beach and palatial houses, streets lined with balanciaga, sax, ferragamo, brooks brothers, pucci, and restaurants knocking out $37 pasta plates; fancy cars like bentleys, cadillacs, sports cars roaming around; and who could forget, the old people in wowza bright-hued outfits, and inappropriately dressed middle aged women showing obvious signs of plastic surgery... in fact, i think we saw no face younger than 40 while there.  its one of those places that you cant quite believe exists, yet.. it does. kim's family has an amazing condo there and i had my own bedroom suite complete with full bath, across the apartment from them so we all had plenty of space.  friday night we went out to a restaurant in town--drank and ate marvelously, and we were the only ones there until closing time. initially our waiter was so hesitant approaching us, so cautious- but all 3 of us just wanted him to feel more comfortable- 'dont worry, we're not going to yell at you tonight.' i wonder the stress level in that kind of environment- with every patron knowing exactly what they want and/or what they think they deserve...  after seafood all around, we ended the night sharing key lime pie, and then took a bottle of champagne down to the beach in plastic cups; briefly followed by a trip up to the roof for another hour or so.

saturday i woke up feeling as if i were on drugs- one of those moments when you cant tell if you feel that way because you dont remember what its like to feel hungover, or if you just feel that way because you havent slept that much in weeks. either one, there was little time to contemplate- just enough to put on a bathing suit, grab some diet coke and water, and head to the beach with our collection of trashy magazines.  gorgeous day, lovely sun, warm... and sharks. no, i kid you not. apparently there was a school (if they even exist normally) of about 5 sharks relatively close to the shore line, so no one was swimming- you could look up and down the shore line and see clusters of other humans just gazing at the water, every now and again nodding, pointing, agreeing that yes, there were sharks out there. to be honest, i still cant believe it, but then again, i wasnt about to be the only kid to go in the ocean that day.

saturday night i drove back down to miami, avoided a night out, and woke up expecting to see thunderstorms all day. just my luck it was sunny and warm again, although i was feeling highly lazy. i guess its the first weekend in a while that i had to myself- first my dad, then home, then my sister- so it was nice to clean, run errands, buy flowers, and cook. i also was able to sit upstairs by the pool for a while in the sun reading- it was practically heavenly- minus the 3 other people up there. one was barking into his cell phone, far away from me on the other side of the roof- and the other 2 were a couple who came and sat like 2 chairs away from me. you could tell they were fighting over something, and then the girl just literally got up, and lay on top of the dude, and every now and again would gyrate on him. this went on for at least 30 minutes before the clouds descended on us and i left. um... do you two realize that is kind of inappropriate to do in front of your neighbors? i dont get it. well, isnt that just the miami lifestyle.

so here we go. another week! good luck handing in your writing patty! my foot is starting to feel much better so hopefully i will able to take it easy with a little run later this week. for now, a little more sunday itchiness before i make myself get to bed and read. i *finally* finished this historical novel (barf) that my boss gave me for xmas. it was literally 500 pages, if not more. im just amazed i was able to read it all within 2 months. HA. to be honest though, its hard to keep eyes open at the end of the day, particularly when the reading involves the 1800s and alexander hamilton. i kid you not.

xo

P: Wait, ANOTHER story due on Monday?

Sheesh. I'm back to eating carbs by the mouthful while trying to eek out more words, words, words. Beyond an interesting BU-MIT grad school mixer at--oy vay, Tequila Rain--which my friend Heather described as "Nerd Heaven," this week/end has been pretty low-key. Got a haircut, had coffee with Diane and Sheila's friend Brian who was in town, went to bed by 9:50pm on Friday, went to northeast MLA (Modern Languages Assoc) conference to see my friend Paul chair a panel discussion on early African-American lit and archives, then my friend Carolynn and her boyfriend Jason came into town for the night and we had a great catch-up session, and today I spent 4.5hrs at Espresso Royale writing, only to come back home and make turkey meatballs in a chicken broth and Belgian honey ale gravy, and then running out to buy Nutella to fuel me through more writing.... nothing much has been going on, nope. Just stressed re another story I'm turning in tomorrow.

On that note, I will leave you with a poem I stumbled upon while sorting through my files. I wrote it in 2003, and it's interesting to note because it continues the Annie-Patty long-distance dialogue! It is also evidence of why I don't write poetry anymore. The title's a lie--it was originally kisses from Oxford, but Newcastle made a pun off of the expression 'coals from newcastle'. Sorry for the cop-out, but don't have time for a proper post....

Kisses! From Newcastle

We send each other emails

that splash their way across the Atlantic.

I picture you in a North Country pub

your grip slipping round a pint of cider

and you toss back your wild, tangled hair

surrounded by local boys, mesmerized

by your pierced tongue and eyebrow

and exotic Manhattan accent.

And maybe you see me in a Midtown counterpart

—you know, one of those Asian-fusion after-work corporate hot-spots—

sitting awkwardly across two glasses of Merlot

and a Merrill Lynch man

as we chat about third quarter earnings

and his generous benefits package—

and I bet you’re laughing hysterically at your computer screen.

Next you’re chugging along on the Intercity counting sheep

out the window to lull you to sleep

while I’m plugging away at work:

press releases, review lists, galleys

hoping for the blue moon phone call from The New Yorker or Boston Globe.

From Amsterdam Centraal you hop on the #5

along the canal

past the dome-shaped Pannekookenhuis

with the apple and Gouda crepes

but you stay on, as the tram heads to Museumplein.

After two hours and seven euros of hash

you’re staring at that famous Rembrandt,

one amidst the crowds of young Americans—

high, tilting their heads in awe.