a beautiful day in the neighborhood

OK, so I realize that I made a stink about running in my last post, but here’s the thing: I don’t hold grudges. Perhaps more importantly, my husband is training for the Brooklyn Half and because this past Sunday was one of the most beautiful days we’ve had in a while, I suggested that we make the trek out to Prospect Park.

(Can you believe this exists in the center of Brooklyn? Often, I myself forget.)

His training schedule required him to run 8 miles that day, and I thought it would be nice to spend some time outside, considering how many hours I pass here in the semi-darkness of my first floor apartment, hunched in front of my laptop. I’m working on the hunch, but it’s harder to work on going outside when all of my endeavors are more comfortably pursued at home (when I write, I constantly reference dozens of books… it’s just easier to be near them all). So trust me—it was a big deal for me to initiate this.

When we got there, he took off on his route (2 and 1/2 times around the park) and I said to myself, you know what? I’m going to try running. I’m in a beautiful environment, I’ve got some sweet jams on my iPod, and it’s only three and a half miles once around the park. Why not?

It started out well, actually. All those aerobics videos were paying off as I made my way around the first quarter of the park. I stopped a few times to take photos (yes, I have an instagram problem), and slowed my pace occasionally to check the quality of the Prospect Park porta potties (disgusting is a generous understatement) before finally veering off the path to chat with the old guy in the tennis center, posing as a prospective client before asking if I could use their restroom. Side note: I have the world’s tiniest bladder. It’s kind of ridiculous, but alas, something that I cannot change. Most of the time it requires me to be sneaky and on the constant alert for potential possibilities (see above), but on the positive side, I know where all the best public restrooms are from Midtown to Chinatown. So there’s that.

After that small reprieve, I got back to it.

I was rounding out the third quarter (which, incidentally, was also a hill), and felt pretty good about myself, considering that I had run the whole way so far (yes, I periodically stopped, but I did not walk any of the actual distance around the park… so). I was running, had been running for some time, and I wasn’t going to stop just because a measly little hill made me feel really dang tired.

But around every curve was more hill. Yup, more on that side too.

As the hill pretended to continue on indefinitely, my determination waned. And then I was passed by a new mom with a stroller and a dog, one of those big, bulky things (the stroller, not the dog), baby cooing happily from the inside (or so I imagined). Shortly after that, I was passed by a guy running barefoot—seriously, a guy running barefoot (only in Brooklyn, right?). It was rather disheartening to think about, but the confusion about why anyone would think running barefoot was a good idea (you don’t really think of NYC as having the cleanest, safest sidewalks), and my dismay about how easy he made it look, led me all the way to finish line. And when I saw it, I sprinted. I swear. I ran three and a half miles—me, someone who very much dislikes running. I didn’t do it very fast, but I did it. And you know what? If it wasn’t for them, I might have stopped. But hell, if someone can run through Brooklyn barefoot, or pushing a clunky stroller, then I can run through Brooklyn in general. Just don’t ask me to look at the bottom of his feet (gross).

For my cool down, I took pictures (obviously). There is truly some lovely foliage lining the streets of Brooklyn. Of course, not all streets are this all colorful, but when you see it, you really appreciate it:

It only took a few days for the sun to retreat once again behind cloudy skies; we went from a 70 degree day right back down into the 50s, which is actually a comfortable temperature, but the wind and erratic, all-angles rain makes it unpleasant.

So, I’m thinking of bluer skies.

For good measure, here’s me pre-run:

In case you were wondering: yes, that’s a fanny pack, and it was truthfully one of my smarter purchases. Also, those are my mom’s pants from like 10 years ago. Thanks, Mom!

As far as running goes… would I do it again? Sure. But my legs were pretty sore the next day, I am still haunted by images of barefoot guy’s dirty feet, and the aerobics videos continue to be more fun than running. Maybe I’ll make it a once a month type of thing.

something you won’t want to miss

As you may know, I am a contributing editor for the new print literary journal Hot Street (currently accepting submissions for our second issue and our emerging writers contest). What you probably don’t know is that we have a launch reading THIS FRIDAY at the legendary KGB Bar (named the best literary venue in NYC by New York Magazine and the Village Voice).

It’s free and open to the public, but if that’s not incentive enough, how about this: we have some of the most amazing readers (who also happen to be contributors for 1 Hot St.)! Including: Sigrid Nunez, Jackson Taylor, Richard Peabody, Rick Rofihe, Susan Lewis, Chelsea Reilly, Roberto Montes, Sean Damlos-Mitchell, Merlin Ural, and Micah Ling.

I hope you’ll stop by, have a drink with us, and revel in the literary grandeur of our incredible readers. It’s going to be a wonderful night!

7 pm.
85 East 4th St., New York, NY 10003

a confession, and the glory of 80s aerobics

Already, I can foresee that many of my future posts will involve ventures into an all around healthier, happier lifestyle (much of it pertaining to yummy food and handmade goods—hurrah!). So before I proceed any further into this blog, I want to tell you something that I have not ever addressed publicly, but that I feel is a pretty significant piece of information pertaining to who I am and why I make certain choices.

Almost three years ago now, I was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia (also known as CML). A series of strange circumstances unfolded, and lets just say I was very lucky to have caught it when I did. Very, very lucky—especially considering that I did not make regular doctor’s visits or take my health seriously (can you blame me? I had only been drinking legally for a year and a half at the time). I won’t get into the nitty-gritty of my diagnosis and how horrible it all was (though I am happy to share my experiences, the story is somewhat long… maybe another day), but suffice it to say that my life was irrevocably altered after that. Thankfully, my body responded immediately to treatment, but even though I have been in remission for over 2 years, I have to take chemo in pill form for at least 2 more. And most days, I continue to struggle with the medication’s side effects (fatigue, headaches, nausea).

For this reason (among others) it’s been hard for me to exercise. I haven’t exercised regularly since I stopped playing tennis competitively, after 12 years, in college, but it’s not because I don’t want to. The opposite, actually. I think about it a lot. And I really try to exercise, but it never lasts. Aside from my body’s easy fatigue, the problem is that I don’t enjoy it. The gym is boring/intimidating/expensive, and running totally blows (I will apologize here to pretty much everyone in my family, because nearly all of them are or have been runners). And if I don’t enjoy something, then I can’t motivate myself to do it. Simple as that. I’ve always liked sports, but again, they are often costly and school has not allotted me enough time to commit to regular practices (late night classes are rough). I was starting to lose all hope when I finally found my solution:

80s (and early 90s) aerobic home videos, via YouTube.

Before you laugh and dismiss the aerobic genius of the 80s as nothing more than silly moves involving spandex, let me tell you: I am completely serious about how much I love these videos. The discovery that this stuff is still accessible has changed everything.

It started with Jazzercise. Jazzercise seemed kind of fun and I’ve always loved dancing, wished I could still afford to take classes. A few months ago, I saw an article about how they had been revamping their image for a modern audience, so I went and looked up Jazzercise on YouTube. Sadly, there are only 3 short clips (each a song’s length) from the original Jazzercise series—and one hilarious video of Judi Sheppard Missett’s mid-exercise commentary (I seriously think she’s the best instructor ever)—and the new stuff just doesn’t have the same endearing personality as the original, as far as I can tell. However, it got me clicking, as the Internet does, and I uncovered a whole slew of fantastic exercise videos from the 80s (Jane Fonda and Denise Austin are the 2 that I gravitated toward immediately). There are so many reasons why these aerobics videos are awesome… but to name a few: rad music, sweet outfits, and fun(ky) moves rooted in dance. What more could you possibly want?

I could have spent all week trying to find a high-res photo of these aerobics workout rooms so that you could remember the fashion in all of its glory. Unfortunately, most of the decent quality photos online are from 80s-themed parties, and the costume style is far too over the top. The only thing I found that’s even halfway remniscent of the real deal, sans pixelation, is this:

It may be an ad, but I think that it’s a pattern and if women actually made their own aerobics wardrobes, then the cool factor just went up exponentially. But whether these outfits were handmade or not, one thing can certainly be said of the women in these videos: they all had great figures, well styled hair, and a lot of fashion sense. See for yourselves in this clip (one of my favorites from a Jane Fonda workout. It’s still low-res, but you’ll get the idea):

How could that music—those moves—not make you excited to work out? How can those colorful, well matched outfits not make you smile? When I used to go to the gym, I looked like a total hobo. I wore ratty old t-shirts, ill fitted shorts, and had my bangs clipped back, flipping up like a wave over my forehead with sweat while I worked on the elliptical and squinted at the TV, trying to read the captions for the daytime soaps. But what if that was part of the problem? What if all I needed to say motivated was a rockin’ aerobics outfit for my soon-to-be rockin’ bod, mixed in with some fabulous jams?

A quick Google search will show that many people hate 80s fashion trends and want them to disappear. But I think there are hints of those same styles everywhere today, and for good reasons. It’s surprisingly easy to get your hands on a lot of garments similar to what the women wore in these videos, with one major difference: the colors are softer, and the patterns are simple and understated.

Here is my contemporary 80s aerobics dream outfit.

1. Sea-Green Leotard with Sleeves   2. Black Scrunchie   3. Patterned Sports Bra   4. White Leg Warmers   5. Sea-Green Running Shoes   6. Off the Shoulder Sweatshirt   7. Soft Pink Leggings   8. Black Elastic Rhinestone Belt

Neons are no longer necessary, but I wouldn’t mind some lovely, soft-colored leotards to get me in the mood for fitness (then again, I’d argue for acid wash any day of the week, so maybe it’s just me). And really, if you’re like me and have trouble sticking with exercise routines because they are boring and tedious, put your pride aside for half an hour and revisit these videos. I thought I would never find a type of free exercise that I actually like, but I think I hit the mother load with this one. Completely serious: I can already see results. And did I mention that there is occasionally live singing? Yeah. Freaking awesome.

Sometimes the Internet really amazes me.

stress relief

Oh, Fishs Eddy, how I love thee.

Having made hardly any money while in graduate school these past two years (“hardly any” being a grand overstatement), I’ve been trying to stay away from all the amazing kitchenware stores that I love here in New York. But yesterday, with just a month to go until my thesis is due, my brain on the verge of exploding with words and letters, I needed to change my focus and surround myself with lovely things instead of read about them. So I went out and picked up this Brooklyn mug that I’ve had my eye on for a while now. I love the sketchy style of drawing, and collecting fun mugs from the different places I’ve been (my parents always did this and inspired me to do it, too. They seriously have some of the best traditions. And anyway, I gotta represent my ‘hood).

I also bought some black cherry balsamic vinegar from The Filling Station, another one of my favorites, and whipped together the most delicious salad to accompany the pizza we made for dinner (fully loaded with ham [leftover from Easter], garlic, onion, fontina, mozarella, and truffle oil). Yum! Too bad my hubby took the leftovers to work and didn’t leave me any… oh, well. My waistline will thank him later.

Food is my favorite form of stress relief. Last weekend, I even made a pie—my first pie ever! I am not usually a pie person. I’m a chocolate person, and since pies are often fruity, I rarely eat them, opting instead for a chocolate chip cookie or piece of Mast Brothers dark chocolate (and you wonder why I don’t have any money?). But ever since Justin and I had a slice of Four & Twenty Blackbirds‘ Black Bottom Oat pie, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

After searching and searching for a similar recipe (Four & Twenty Blackbirds has a recipe book coming out later this year, but I just couldn’t wait), we decided on trying out this recipe from Serious Eats. It didn’t taste quite like I remember the Four & Twenty Blackbirds pie, but it was pretty damn good. So good, in fact, that I didn’t even think about photographing it until it was almost gone.

Whoops.

I will say this: it was much more time consuming than my standard go-to, the oatmeal chocolate chip cookie. But it was well worth it. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even give an apple pie a chance. If I don’t like it, I know Justin will eat it.

back from the bloqparty tour

Well, Hurricane Sandy didn’t stop us from traveling around the East Coast after all. Here’s a bit about my pursuits with Writer’s Bloq as part of a traveling band of writers and artists. Our tour, in photographs.

For the trip (sponsored by Moleskine and The Impossible Project), we were each given some Moleskines, a Polaroid camera, and 3 packs of film. It was up to us to both ration, and make the most of, our supplies.

bloq party

I’ve been busy, busy with many a thing the past few months, but what I’m REALLY excited to share with you is this:

If you haven’t yet heard of Writer’s Bloq, you must check them out—they are an amazing group doing amazing things in today’s constantly changing literary industry. But in the meantime, let me tell you about Bloq Party.

brooklyn watertower

I have been a regular reader of Design*Sponge for some time, but now that I live in Brooklyn—where d*s is located—it’s a lot more fun to follow them! And this is precisely why:

weekend recipes – whole wheat banana nut muffins with chocolate chips

I don’t know if you guys know this, but I am a big baker. Cooking came to me much later in life, but I’ve been baking for as long as I remember. It’s probably because of my devious sweet tooth, but I can trace the root of it all back to a childhood Christmas tradition. My mother, sister, and I used to pull out all of our family cookie/candy recipes and bake for the whole extended family. We baked for a party of fifty. My whole extended family was much closer to fifteen.

Now, Justin and I cook dinner together most nights (when we aren’t exploring our ever-growing list of recommended NYC restaurants) and still bake rather frequently. But I will admit one thing: it’s not always fun to cook/bake in the middle of an east coast summer, in an apartment without air conditioning. But then again, you do what you’ve got to do, right? And this weekend, in our case… we had to bake muffins.

In the future, I plan on sharing more of the recipes that we love. That’s why I titled this post “weekend recipes.” I’ll be the first to admit that it probably won’t happen every single weekend, but hopefully I can keep up with every other, and at the very least once a month! These may be family recipes, recipes found on the internet, recipes seen on TV or even something we’ve been inspired to make based on a meal/sweet-treat we ate somewhere else. I will do my best to credit the original source of the recipe (or at least where I found it), and make sure to notate where we strayed.

So, without further disclaimer, I have decided today to share my Aunt Kathy’s whole wheat banana nut bread! My Aunt actually made a cookbook for the entire family with all of her own recipes, and other favorites that she has accumulated over the years. Chances are that I will share more from her cookbook as these posts continue because, so far, all of them have been delicious!

Whole Wheat Banana Nut Bread/Muffins (with optional chocolate chips!)
Ingredients (makes approx. 2 loaves or 40 muffins):

firework fail

I had very big hopes for this year’s Fourth of July firework show. I turn into a little kid when I’m around fireworks, and even sparklers make me giddy. There is something so spectacular about them, and the way the little flames shoot off. Because of this, I made sure we had them at our wedding. It’s a common “exit” for the bride/groom these days, but that doesn’t make it any less special—or fun, especially since you can buy specific wedding sparklers that last long enough for a tunnel. Some of the best wedding photo-ops, I must say!

neat freak, and how The Polaroid Wall got an upgrade

To the dismay of my husband, I made this past weekend revolve around cleaning our entire apartment. We’ve been living in New York for almost a year now, and even though I clean constantly and obsessively, things always seem dirty—especially now in summer, since we try to keep the windows open as often as possible. There is a lot of dust floating around in the air and, consequently, into our apartment.

Though I pride myself on a clean home, this wasn’t just a random act of neat freak determination. A group of girls from my MFA program are coming over to my place for the first time tonight (we meet bi-monthly as a summer workshop that will turn into our thesis group next spring, and every time, we rotate hosts), so naturally, I want the place to look nice. But even more, I want it to look presentable. I get this from my mother, the interior designer.

So we (meaning I, mostly, with a few delegated tasks) set about scrubbing and dusting and vacuuming and swiffering. And to prove that I am a nutball, in case it needed proving, I admit to pulling out a stack of Q-Tips and cleaning all those little hard to reach spots, like around the faucet knobs where it gets grimy, and the dust clumps between the bars of our chairs.  This is just the kind of person that I am.

But aside from this, presentable also means finishing any projects that we had been working on, or planning to do. And though it took until 8PM on Sunday night to finally tackle this one, The Polaroid Wall was a must.

My love of Polaroids began sometime in early high school, but I credit the emergence of The Polaroid Wall to my junior year of college, when—in my bedroom of the house that I rented with some friends—I covered an entire wall with all of the Polaroids that I had accumulated. Easy decorating, since I had hundreds just laying around. It looked something like this:

Yes, that is a dog pile.

As you can imagine, The Polaroid Wall served as a backdrop for many photos that ended up as another Scotch-taped square on it, and for years, it grew at an alarming rate. But then… well, you know the story. First they stopped selling 5-packs of film at Costco, then the cost rose to over $2 per photo (and upwards from there), then they went out of business, and so forth. Now, if you search on eBay for Polaroid film, it’s up to around $100 a pack. The best deals have a starting bid of around $230 for 5 packs. Of course, I know that they have similar cameras out now (I like this one, with the wide film), but I have yet to buy one and still think of Polaroids as relics, and mementos of my own personal past.

Most of my old Polaroid pictures are now in a shoebox somewhere in California, but Justin and I brought some of our favorites to New York and I created a mini version of The Wall in our bedroom. We have surprisingly high ceilings, and all the blank white space was unbearable. I always knew that this little homage was just a space-saver, but for 10 months it did the job.

A few weeks ago, however, I changed my mind.

I decided that I wanted something more sprawling and fun. Scotch-taped photos are too… flat. And the piece of the puzzle that I haven’t mentioned yet: I had one pack of Polaroid film that I set aside years ago for a “special occasion.” For a long time nothing seemed worthy, but obviously, the worthiest of worthy events just occurred, and I used the pack at our wedding! With over two dozen new photos (the pack of film, plus a bunch of mock-Polaroids that my amazing bridesmaid Melissa made from our engagement shoot for the bridal shower), I knew that an upgrade was necessary.

Here’s the result:

By tying long strands of twine between two nails and then hanging the photos with miniature clothespins, we managed to use the blank space much better. And, as an added bonus, I’ve always loved miniature clothespins!—I am automatically drawn to all things tiny. But really, you could use this idea and take it in a ton of different directions. It doesn’t have to be for photographs.

Would you believe me if I told you that I had exactly the amount of clothespins for the number of photos? Not a single extra. It was meant to be. (I also want to mention that the lovely key hook I have on the wall hanging my necklaces is from anthropologie)

Oh, and here are some of the wedding Polaroids: