Saturday, November 30, 2013

forgiven

Aside from Thanksgiving day, Alexander and I have only one plan to do together during his break:  see a Saturday afternoon screening of American Hustle, a film we both want to see.

Alexander comes home on Wednesday announcing all he has to do.  Watch a movie for a class.  Write a 6-page paper on it.  Revise another paper.  And prepare for a final.  But he’s easily distracted.  Last night for example, instead of staying home and working on his paper, he goes out with Michael and Adam to see 12 Years a Slave and have sushi after.  I can’t blame him for wanting to do that versus writing a paper.

This morning, Alexander has a 10am haircut with Jun, a Japanese stylist at Tokuyama Salon, the same place where I go and love.

He gets up at 9:40 and announces, “I can’t see the movie today.  I have too much to do.”  I have watched Alexander waste so much time and now, the one thing we had planned to do together, he is not going to do.  I am disappointed and upset.  I express that, and he blows up.  “Fine, I’ll go but then I’ll write a really sh**ty paper.”  I tell him not to bother as I don’t want to be responsible for his sh**ty paper.  We have run out of time to argue further and Alexander leaves for his hair appointment.

I go to the library, and start my own studying, having forgotten about our argument.

Alexander returns home with two things.  One expected, one not.

A great hair cut:


And a gorgeous bouquet of flowers:



His sweetness overwhelms me.  I immediately say, “You are totally forgiven.” 

An hour or so later he says, “Boy, buying you flowers sure saves a lot of time.  I bet if I hadn’t you’d want to talk about our fight this morning, and we’d still be arguing.”


We go to the screening, and sit next to David Denby, the film critic for The New Yorker.   It’s his second time seeing the film and he describes it this way, “Heavenly.”  And it is.  It’s a great afternoon.

Friday, November 29, 2013

buying without spending

Every New Years Eve I wonder about the people who stand freezing in Times Square to watch the ball drop.  This is something I don’t understand.

Similarly, I don’t understand why people would cut short their Thanksgiving day to rush into stores to go shopping.  I watch the brawls on TV, and question the sanity of people.

I am on a shopping moratorium.  While I would love to re-do my entire apartment (well, actually I would love to move to a new, bigger apartment and then decorate it from scratch), that is not about to happen.

So today, I shop in someone’s apartment.  They are re-doing their entire, already-gorgeous apartment and have asked me if there is anything I might want.  There is.

For years, I have envied their beautiful coffee table.  I have one I like just fine —


but theirs is more interesting, and bigger (54 by 36 versus my 48 by 30, and two inches taller).  It is in pristine condition, with a planked top that has a beautiful sheen.




The table is more country than modern, but I think it will blend well in my living room.  I am going to take it.  It’s a stunning piece; I need a change; and the price is right.  Besides, it's the biggest shopping day of the year; I need to do something!

Thursday, November 28, 2013

thanksgiving in long island

Today, 20 of us go to Val and Abbey's.  In past years, we’ve celebrated on the Cape.   It’ll be the first time in a long time we’ve been in New York. There are other firsts as well.  It’s the first time my dad can’t make it in person. It’s also the first time Amanda’s parents join us, though it feels as if they’ve always been part of our Thanksgiving celebration.

Rita picks up Alexander, Jared, Jessica and me at the train station around 3:30.  Jay Z is blasting away.  As cool as 90-year old Rita is, this surprises us.  So what if it's not intentional.

The table is set and looks elegant, just like my sister.


As is the tradition, the host makes a speech.  Abbey raises his glass and we all join in.  There is much to be grateful for.  Then my mom adds, “I got a tweet from Godge.  He and all is friends are having a ball.”  She goes on a bit more until someone says, “Hey, I thought you only get 140 characters,” to which Alexander adds, “It’s okay.  He can tweet longer.  It’s one of the perks of heaven.”  I love having Alexander home.



The food is plentiful, and each of us surely consumes more than the 4,500 calories the news has proclaimed as the average Thanksgiving meal.  After seconds, and thirds by some, the big group splits for a while.  Some of the men hang out and talk business.


The rest of us watch a montage from Jason and Amanda’s exquisite wedding.  As I take a few pictures, Alexander comments, “My mom is now making a montage of us watching a montage.”





We all end up hanging out in the large den where we light the Channakah candles.


I grab my camera and everyone reluctantly concedes to a few photos.  











It’s a great day.  It always is when my family gets together.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

maybe

“What time are you coming home?”  It’s a question I’ve been asking Alexander for weeks now.  And I always get the same answer.  “Sometime on Wednesday.”  A more specific commitment is impossible to get.

Last night I call and ask the same question.  And again, I get the same answer.  I know my son is not going to his classes on Wednesday morning, so I suggest he come home on the ten bus.  “Maybe, “ he responds, with zero possibility of the maybe becoming a yes.

Alexander takes the noon bus and calls me.  “Hey, can we have sushi for dinner?”  I tell him maybe.  He is looking for a stronger commitment.  I tell him it’s the same level of maybe he provided me with last night when I suggested the ten a.m. bus.

Alexander comes home around 6:30.  It is so good to see him.  I give him a big hug.


Later we have dinner.  My maybe was of course nothing like his.




Tuesday, November 26, 2013

city conversations

If someone were to ask me, “What are the things that make you most happy?” my answer would be easy.  Family and friends would be number one.  And living in New York City would be number two.  My worst nightmare (that I have often), and I am not making this up, is that I‘ve moved.  I think deep down I have this fear that nothing good lasts.

The reasons I love this city are innumerable. I love the energy here.  Its importance to the world.  Its neighborhoods.  Its liberalism.  Its culture. Its climate.  Its geography. Its restaurants.  Its color.  And of course, its people.

Today, for example, is an uneventful day.  But the random encounters I have throughout it make  it more memorable than it deserves to be.

First I meet Luis, an Apple genius and gem.   I’m not sure what his IQ is for deserving his genius status, but it’s off the charts for likeability and helpfulness. My iPhone battery is draining again, and he discovers some problem with a logjam of software, or something like that.  The fix is a total reinstall, which I’m not sure I want to do.  But he offers to help in every way possible.  He even discovers I can upgrade, and looks up the nearest ATT store to see if I can get a better deal on the iPhone 5S than Apple can offer.

Next appointment is at my dermatologist’s.  My semi-annual body check shows that all is good. Through the years, I’ve gotten to know my doctor well, despite seeing her only two or three times a year.  If she weren’t my doctor she’d be a good friend.  Our conversations always evolve to our kids — and not the aren’t they wonderful kind, but a true sharing of common kid challenges.

Even the hipsters behind the Stumptown coffee counter are as nice as they are cool. 

Then there’s this older woman sitting next to me on the bus. Her eyes smile in agreement at my obvious irritation at the guy sitting behind me chatting non-stop on his phone, in my ear.  We end up talking about neighborhood restaurants.

And finally, there’s the 28-year old woman at ATT, who is leaving work tomorrow at 9pm to go home to bake 11 pies.  She is one of 18 siblings (all from the same parents, 3 girls and 15 boys).  We sidetrack from our conversation about phones while she is waiting for her computer to warm up.  But this is on the phone and she is from Louisiana.


New York certainly does not have a lock on friendly, interesting people.  They are just so easy to find here.

Monday, November 25, 2013

all-girls night out

Six of us are meeting for dinner.  We are celebrating the birthdays of Janice and Pam.  Zelia has recommended the restaurant:  


No one else has been there.  The reservation is for 7:30.

Around five, Pam calls.  The weather over the next couple of days looks bad, so Pam leaves today (vs. tomorrow) to go up to Dartmouth to pick up her son.

So now five of us are meeting, minus one of the birthday girls.  Janice and I are the first to arrive.  We are seated in the perfect corner table.  Soon Zelia, Ronda and Shari join us.  There’s a bit of controversy over the table (the waitress tells us another couple has specifically reserved the table where we are currently seated) but our collective charm prevails, and we get to keep the table.  Either that, or the waitress doesn’t want the battle.

The food is exceptional.  From the appetizers to the desserts.  There is not one morsel left on anyone’s plate.

We get two appetizers for the table:

Camarones Al Ajo shrimp in garlic. white wine, crush pepper, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and butter

Provoleta grilled provolone. warm organic beefsteak tomato, dried oregano, freshly ground black pepper

We even ask for extra bread to sop up the sauce in the shrimp.  This is not a meal for anyone counting calories.

We all order steak, and though I generally prefer strip to skirt, I defer to the waitress’s and Zelia’s recommendation and get the 14-ounce prime skirt steak.  It is amazing.  Tender, flavorful, and impossible not to finish, despite its ample size.  Even the accompanying fries are perfect.

We get two desserts for the table: some type of chocolate pancake, and a chocolate mousse, both excellent.

As always, we have much to say.  From holiday plans to kid updates to vacation summaries to Iran’s nuclear deal. 


I am grateful to be included among this smart, spirited, group of women.