When we arrived, I noticed that everyone wished everyone else a happy new year. Cashiers, friends, etc. called out the greeting as readily as folks around here imagine Okies say “Yee Haw!” They’re still extending the greetings. The New Year is a big deal in Jersey. People don’t get this excited about it in Oklahoma.
They certainly like the holidays around here. I’ve not really seen any manger scenes or menorahs to specify which religion a home belongs to, but they decorate nonetheless. Red bows, pine branches, and jingle bells abound. Still. At the end of January. It’s closer to Valentine’s Day than Christmas for goodness’ sake!
In Oklahoma, New Year’s Day marks the time where most people expect you to take down those decorations unless an ice storm has cemented them in place. Then, when the thaw hits, most homeowners remove them and pack them away until right after Thanksgiving when they haul them out and deck the halls with cheer once more. Otherwise, if those decorations stay up, you’re considered one of those kind of people. You know, the ones who still have their lights up in July and probably have one of those painted boards in their front flowerbed that looks like a woman bending over.
But here? I don’t know how long the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy lasts. I keep waiting for the wreaths across the street to come down and the nutcrackers to stop guarding the local homes.
I’m guessing since Groundhog’s Day is this weekend, they may pay special attention to Punxsutawney Phil and at least take them down before the tulips bloom.
Bah Humbug!
Monday, January 28, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
We enjoyed breakfast at the Inn. The Seaport museum tickets are good for two days, so we returned to see the Journeys building. There was so much more to see that we’d love to return. When we left the warm building, a picaresque New England wintry day greeted us, complete with fluffy snowflakes. We ate lunch at a window table in S & P Oyster Company and looked out the window at the winter water. Three ducks floated and fished and flew to entertain us. We watched them dive for a fish and guessed where they might pop up. Those quackers can move underwater!
We arrived home long enough to unpack and relax briefly before getting on the train and heading into NYC where our friends Johnny and Jennifer are staying. We met them for dinner at ROC. My gnocci was yummy and Garrett claimed his salmon was tasty as well.
It was refreshing to see Oklahoma friends in New York.
Plus, I’ve not seen a New Yorker yet who can hail a cab with the ease that Johnny did. Seriously, the street was empty, so we started walking towards a busier one a block away. We’d only taken a few steps when Johnny stood in the middle of the street and let loose one of those sharp whistles that only occur in movies—or so I thought. A cab stopped—it didn’t even have its light on because it was carrying a passenger—but it stopped and backed up down the street until it reached us. They put us in the cab so that we could rush to catch our train. I was concerned they’d have to wait, but nope, before we’d even left, another cab had appeared and they were crawling into it as we waved goodbye.
We arrived home long enough to unpack and relax briefly before getting on the train and heading into NYC where our friends Johnny and Jennifer are staying. We met them for dinner at ROC. My gnocci was yummy and Garrett claimed his salmon was tasty as well.
It was refreshing to see Oklahoma friends in New York.
Plus, I’ve not seen a New Yorker yet who can hail a cab with the ease that Johnny did. Seriously, the street was empty, so we started walking towards a busier one a block away. We’d only taken a few steps when Johnny stood in the middle of the street and let loose one of those sharp whistles that only occur in movies—or so I thought. A cab stopped—it didn’t even have its light on because it was carrying a passenger—but it stopped and backed up down the street until it reached us. They put us in the cab so that we could rush to catch our train. I was concerned they’d have to wait, but nope, before we’d even left, another cab had appeared and they were crawling into it as we waved goodbye.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Garrett and I decided to head to Connecticut this weekend. We weren’t sure where, but we decided along the way. Our friends Savine and Karen had recommended Mystic, CT, and since it was also listed in the book 1000 Things to See Before You Die, we set our GPS. We’re so glad we did. The town was a quaint little seaside touristy town with a history that was still visible in the old sea captain’s homes, complete with the widow’s walks where the wives would look out in expectation of their loved ones’ arrivals.
We ate lunch at the Seaman’s Inne which seemed ancient. We cozied up to a fireplace and enjoyed real New England clam chowder and seafood. The nice waitress was a cross somewhere between a motherly icon and the cheeky barmaid who might have tended a tavern hundreds of years ago. Strange combination.
Next, we wandered to the must-see Mystic Seaport, the world’s largest maritime museum. A village has been built to resemble one from the heyday of whaling. Among other things they have the only surviving harpoon blacksmith’s shop. Much to Garrett’s delight, the last surviving wooden whaling ship, the Charles W. Morgan, is harbored there, too. We joined a walking a tour led by the man who is regularly the blacksmith. With him, we were able to enter buildings that weren’t usually open in the off-season. Unfortunately, most of them were not heated. Brrr!
We learned …
--A cooperage is where casks are made. A barrel is a unit of measurement that holds 42 gallons. Other containers we call barrels have other names. They’re all casks. Yes, like Poe’s short story “The Cask of Amontillado.”
--A black man revolutionized whaling in the 19th century when he developed a harpoon that stayed in the whale’s side rather than slipping out. It cut whaling trips from four years down to two. Because of the color of his skin, he was unable to patent his invention.
---People must have been really short because when we went on the whaling ship, neither one of us could stand up straight in the “blubber room” where they do the work of preparing and storing the whales.
--The term “grandfather clock” didn’t come around until the 19th century. The name changed due to a popular song of the time. Originally, they were called “tall case” or “long case” or simply “floor” clocks.
--Crew usually went into debt about $60 to purchase gear when they signed on. Many of them returned in debt. To be a crewmember seems to have meant one had run out of life choices.
--A chandlery was a sort of general store for sailors; although, it originally sold only candles.
-- Navigation is cool. We learned how the sexton measured degrees using the chronometer.
We ate dinner at Mystic Pizza. “The pizza that made the movie famous” is their motto. I don’t know about that, but it was fun anyway.
The Inn at Mystic is a beautiful place. We were lucky enough to get to stay in the little gate house behind the big colonial mansion. Our room had a fireplace, which Garrett put to use. This cottage is where Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall honeymooned.
We ate lunch at the Seaman’s Inne which seemed ancient. We cozied up to a fireplace and enjoyed real New England clam chowder and seafood. The nice waitress was a cross somewhere between a motherly icon and the cheeky barmaid who might have tended a tavern hundreds of years ago. Strange combination.
Next, we wandered to the must-see Mystic Seaport, the world’s largest maritime museum. A village has been built to resemble one from the heyday of whaling. Among other things they have the only surviving harpoon blacksmith’s shop. Much to Garrett’s delight, the last surviving wooden whaling ship, the Charles W. Morgan, is harbored there, too. We joined a walking a tour led by the man who is regularly the blacksmith. With him, we were able to enter buildings that weren’t usually open in the off-season. Unfortunately, most of them were not heated. Brrr!
We learned …
--A cooperage is where casks are made. A barrel is a unit of measurement that holds 42 gallons. Other containers we call barrels have other names. They’re all casks. Yes, like Poe’s short story “The Cask of Amontillado.”
--A black man revolutionized whaling in the 19th century when he developed a harpoon that stayed in the whale’s side rather than slipping out. It cut whaling trips from four years down to two. Because of the color of his skin, he was unable to patent his invention.
---People must have been really short because when we went on the whaling ship, neither one of us could stand up straight in the “blubber room” where they do the work of preparing and storing the whales.
--The term “grandfather clock” didn’t come around until the 19th century. The name changed due to a popular song of the time. Originally, they were called “tall case” or “long case” or simply “floor” clocks.
--Crew usually went into debt about $60 to purchase gear when they signed on. Many of them returned in debt. To be a crewmember seems to have meant one had run out of life choices.
--A chandlery was a sort of general store for sailors; although, it originally sold only candles.
-- Navigation is cool. We learned how the sexton measured degrees using the chronometer.
We ate dinner at Mystic Pizza. “The pizza that made the movie famous” is their motto. I don’t know about that, but it was fun anyway.
The Inn at Mystic is a beautiful place. We were lucky enough to get to stay in the little gate house behind the big colonial mansion. Our room had a fireplace, which Garrett put to use. This cottage is where Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall honeymooned.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
My trip to Oklahoma was fabulous. Not only did I get to see my talented Inkling friends but I also got to spend time with my parents and grandmother. My dad cooked up a batch of greens for me—yes, that’s turnip greens and collard greens, I’m from Oklahoma, thankyouverymuch. I bet Paula Deen’s don’t taste as good as his: de-lish! The Open House went well on Sunday according to our realtor. We’re waiting on an offer to prove it. C’mon, buyers, it’s a great house! Most importantly, though, the real excitement happened on Friday.
My mom accompanied me on my appointment with Dr. Haas. I’m glad she did. How many grandmothers-to-be get to see a heartbeat? Plus, I was grateful she got to meet the staff where Garrett and I have spent so much time. Dr. Haas has this way of bouncing when he’s excited, so I knew the appointment went well. We were relieved to learn the heartbeat was in the normal range. From Sherry and Cammie who work in the office to the chatty endocrinologist John, everyone is so friendly and seems to have a real stake in our pregnancy. Even Dr. Craig who shares the office but is in a different practice regularly questions our progress when we meet in the hallway. The nursing staff can’t be beat. As I’ve mentioned before, Priscilla totally rocks, and Vanetta, Amber, and the cute brunette (I totally just blanked on her name) are fabulous too. I really miss them.
My mom accompanied me on my appointment with Dr. Haas. I’m glad she did. How many grandmothers-to-be get to see a heartbeat? Plus, I was grateful she got to meet the staff where Garrett and I have spent so much time. Dr. Haas has this way of bouncing when he’s excited, so I knew the appointment went well. We were relieved to learn the heartbeat was in the normal range. From Sherry and Cammie who work in the office to the chatty endocrinologist John, everyone is so friendly and seems to have a real stake in our pregnancy. Even Dr. Craig who shares the office but is in a different practice regularly questions our progress when we meet in the hallway. The nursing staff can’t be beat. As I’ve mentioned before, Priscilla totally rocks, and Vanetta, Amber, and the cute brunette (I totally just blanked on her name) are fabulous too. I really miss them.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Saturday January 19 Solo in Manhattan
Ah Saturday, I arose around 0800; a fairly normal hour for a Saturday. Brandi had flown back to Oklahoma just two days prior and I would be spending this weekend by myself. I had yet to decide what adventure was awaiting me, but I was determined to live up to the promise that I made to myself to have a new adventure every weekend for the remainder of the year. Several possibilities had crossed my mind: Atlantic City, Connecticut, Phillie but today I was solo and I did not want to venture some place completely new without Brandi. Therefore I decided to spend the afternoon in NYC. First, I ventured off to The Gym for some treadmill time and more importantly a shower. I know Brandi has previously raved about their showers, and she is not kidding. Since I have lived in our apartment I have showered there twice, always opting to drive to The Gym instead. I am always amazed that every member of The Gym pays $100 per month and that place is packed. I counted them; there are 70 treadmills, bikes and ellipticals, and they were all full. You would have thought that people were getting paid to come instead of the other way around. Maybe the Lamborghini I parked next to has something to do with it.
After my workout and shower, I made my way to catch the 1133 train to the city. The first portion of the ride was uneventful; however, Secaucus my connecting train was packed. I mean packed to the point where there was almost no standing room. Glad it was a short trip. Once in the city I found a Coffee shop I had been searching for called the Edison Cafe. It is on 47 between 5th and 6th and had decent coffee. Zagat gave it a medium rating and I tend to agree, at least as far as the coffee is concerned. I sat next to a couple from Dallas who had flown to NYC on a whim for her 40th birthday. From there I made my way up to central park. I watched the people ice skate, and then I climbed in the rocks and stopped to send some e-mail. I really understand why people love New York City. It is so full of life and is not boring. --G
After my workout and shower, I made my way to catch the 1133 train to the city. The first portion of the ride was uneventful; however, Secaucus my connecting train was packed. I mean packed to the point where there was almost no standing room. Glad it was a short trip. Once in the city I found a Coffee shop I had been searching for called the Edison Cafe. It is on 47 between 5th and 6th and had decent coffee. Zagat gave it a medium rating and I tend to agree, at least as far as the coffee is concerned. I sat next to a couple from Dallas who had flown to NYC on a whim for her 40th birthday. From there I made my way up to central park. I watched the people ice skate, and then I climbed in the rocks and stopped to send some e-mail. I really understand why people love New York City. It is so full of life and is not boring. --G
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Friday January 18 - New Jersey DMV
Today I decided was the day to make myself a true New Jersey resident and trade in my Oklahoma drivers license for that of the Garden State.
I consulted with several colleagues regarding the the best location to visit the Motor Vehicle Commission (MVC) and was given several options all followed by "but whatever you do, avoid Lodi". Now Lodi is a fine community to which I had ventured on several occasions with the purpose of visiting Satin Dolls, a strip club made famous in the Sopranos as The Bada Bing. On the internet I reviewed the requirements regarding the documents I had to produce to obtain said drivers license. These included Birth Certificate, Passport, lease or mortgage paperwork, and marriage certificate (presumably if female however that was not stated.) While making my list of documents, I noticed that all first time licensees in New Jersey needed to take a vision test and the vision test is only offered in, you guessed it, Lodi. This fact was confirmed for me later that afternoon while sitting next to our Web Development V.P., a recent expatriate of the UK. He regaled me with his preparatory work studying for the New Jersey drivers examination, which I could take comfort is only required by those of immigrant status. He spouted New Jersey motor vehicle statutes that were so obscure. These included those regarding the speed limit around a School Bus with its red lights flashing and the legal alcohol limit for those under 21. This was a fact we all found most amusing as the legal drinking age is 21.
With all my documentation in hand I headed toward the MVC in Lodi. It was about 1530 and I was a bit concerned as they closed at 1630. Now just to put everyone in the spirit of the NJ MVC you have to imagine how you would feel if you were applying for parole or trying to gain entry to the 50's era Soviet Union. You are treated as if you are a bad person with nefarious intentions. My paperwork (Birth Certificate, passport and apartment lease) were scrutinized 7 times and 2 of these were by the same person. I had to write an explanation why I had moved to New Jersey....twice. I will have to say that they are very thorough in checking documentation. Terrorists may gain entry through our unsecured borders but by god they are not going to get a drivers license in the state of New Jersey. I will have to say despite the repetitive nature of the document verification, the lines, or queues for my British colleagues, were quite tolerable. None-the-less after only one hour at the MVC I emerged with a New Jersey drivers license. As for getting the license plate for my car, well that will have to happen another day as I could not produce the title. --G
I consulted with several colleagues regarding the the best location to visit the Motor Vehicle Commission (MVC) and was given several options all followed by "but whatever you do, avoid Lodi". Now Lodi is a fine community to which I had ventured on several occasions with the purpose of visiting Satin Dolls, a strip club made famous in the Sopranos as The Bada Bing. On the internet I reviewed the requirements regarding the documents I had to produce to obtain said drivers license. These included Birth Certificate, Passport, lease or mortgage paperwork, and marriage certificate (presumably if female however that was not stated.) While making my list of documents, I noticed that all first time licensees in New Jersey needed to take a vision test and the vision test is only offered in, you guessed it, Lodi. This fact was confirmed for me later that afternoon while sitting next to our Web Development V.P., a recent expatriate of the UK. He regaled me with his preparatory work studying for the New Jersey drivers examination, which I could take comfort is only required by those of immigrant status. He spouted New Jersey motor vehicle statutes that were so obscure. These included those regarding the speed limit around a School Bus with its red lights flashing and the legal alcohol limit for those under 21. This was a fact we all found most amusing as the legal drinking age is 21.
With all my documentation in hand I headed toward the MVC in Lodi. It was about 1530 and I was a bit concerned as they closed at 1630. Now just to put everyone in the spirit of the NJ MVC you have to imagine how you would feel if you were applying for parole or trying to gain entry to the 50's era Soviet Union. You are treated as if you are a bad person with nefarious intentions. My paperwork (Birth Certificate, passport and apartment lease) were scrutinized 7 times and 2 of these were by the same person. I had to write an explanation why I had moved to New Jersey....twice. I will have to say that they are very thorough in checking documentation. Terrorists may gain entry through our unsecured borders but by god they are not going to get a drivers license in the state of New Jersey. I will have to say despite the repetitive nature of the document verification, the lines, or queues for my British colleagues, were quite tolerable. None-the-less after only one hour at the MVC I emerged with a New Jersey drivers license. As for getting the license plate for my car, well that will have to happen another day as I could not produce the title. --G
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008—evening
We saw a flutter! On the ultrasound inside the little jellybean that is our baby was a teeny-tiny flutter.
The doctor couldn’t count it because his ultrasound machine measured at 6mm and ours was only at 4mm. Garrett commented later that it was really fast, definitely more than one beat a second. Hopefully, Dr. Haas will be able to see something on Friday and verify that everything is going well. Dr. Foley said today that it looked “normal.” NORMAL! We are very happy.
The doctor couldn’t count it because his ultrasound machine measured at 6mm and ours was only at 4mm. Garrett commented later that it was really fast, definitely more than one beat a second. Hopefully, Dr. Haas will be able to see something on Friday and verify that everything is going well. Dr. Foley said today that it looked “normal.” NORMAL! We are very happy.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
There have been times in my life where I thought, “It’s just like on tv.” This was one of them.
The gym was an experience. I understand now why it’s discussed as a dating arena, and why some women have affairs with their trainers. (Not necessarily at this location, but stereotypically.) Nothing is quite like our gym back home. There, one must wonder how clean everything is. Here, attendants follow behind you. There, the lockers require you to bring a lock. Here, the lockers have their own little number memory system. There, industrial strength brown paper towels are available for your convenience. Here, fluffy towels are everywhere you turn.
First of all, there were so many people. If the masses were dressed differently, the lights were low, and alcohol were served, it could have been a nightclub. Instead, women pranced around in tight, stylish workout gear sipping water. Men strutted with their chests out, pretending they weren’t hoping someone was looking at them—in that way, they were a lot like some of the women. Trainers all wore the same outfit and a couple of the men seemed a little eager to lean into the stretches of the more attractive women.
Some worked out with a vengeance. Most of these had highly paid trainers coaching them. Some of them attended classes. These middle aged women had the bodies of co-eds. In the locker rooms they visited as they got ready. The primping reminded me of a sorority house before a big party with a favorite frat house.
However, while I was on the treadmill for half an hour—okay, 28 minutes—I noticed some of the women never exercised. One lady in particular was a paradigm of cute-girl-at-the-gym: sleek grey outfit, long blond hair, perky baseball cap. She dragged her mat to the center of the stretching and toning area. The clue she did not intend to sweat should have been that her hair was not in ponytail. Don’t get me wrong—she stayed busy. She’d strike a pose and then quickly strike up a conversation. She’d giggle behind her water bottle. When her companion(s) would go on to exercise, she’d repeat the process so that passersby thought she was pausing in her workout to talk to them. I have a feeling she’s a new breed of woman, I’ve yet to understand. Maybe my time on the treadmill will be like watching The Discovery Channel.
The loveliest aspect of the entire gym is in the locker room. The showers were magnificent. The showers are enough to inspire me to return to the crowded and different environment. Just so I can take a shower. Three different shower heads pummel you in a shower worthy of a bed and breakfast or a 5 star hotel. It’s really worth it. I just hope my friend Lisa is right about the overpopulation when she says it will slow down after January. I’d like to luxuriate in that shower without worrying about a line.
The gym was an experience. I understand now why it’s discussed as a dating arena, and why some women have affairs with their trainers. (Not necessarily at this location, but stereotypically.) Nothing is quite like our gym back home. There, one must wonder how clean everything is. Here, attendants follow behind you. There, the lockers require you to bring a lock. Here, the lockers have their own little number memory system. There, industrial strength brown paper towels are available for your convenience. Here, fluffy towels are everywhere you turn.
First of all, there were so many people. If the masses were dressed differently, the lights were low, and alcohol were served, it could have been a nightclub. Instead, women pranced around in tight, stylish workout gear sipping water. Men strutted with their chests out, pretending they weren’t hoping someone was looking at them—in that way, they were a lot like some of the women. Trainers all wore the same outfit and a couple of the men seemed a little eager to lean into the stretches of the more attractive women.
Some worked out with a vengeance. Most of these had highly paid trainers coaching them. Some of them attended classes. These middle aged women had the bodies of co-eds. In the locker rooms they visited as they got ready. The primping reminded me of a sorority house before a big party with a favorite frat house.
However, while I was on the treadmill for half an hour—okay, 28 minutes—I noticed some of the women never exercised. One lady in particular was a paradigm of cute-girl-at-the-gym: sleek grey outfit, long blond hair, perky baseball cap. She dragged her mat to the center of the stretching and toning area. The clue she did not intend to sweat should have been that her hair was not in ponytail. Don’t get me wrong—she stayed busy. She’d strike a pose and then quickly strike up a conversation. She’d giggle behind her water bottle. When her companion(s) would go on to exercise, she’d repeat the process so that passersby thought she was pausing in her workout to talk to them. I have a feeling she’s a new breed of woman, I’ve yet to understand. Maybe my time on the treadmill will be like watching The Discovery Channel.
The loveliest aspect of the entire gym is in the locker room. The showers were magnificent. The showers are enough to inspire me to return to the crowded and different environment. Just so I can take a shower. Three different shower heads pummel you in a shower worthy of a bed and breakfast or a 5 star hotel. It’s really worth it. I just hope my friend Lisa is right about the overpopulation when she says it will slow down after January. I’d like to luxuriate in that shower without worrying about a line.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Garrett’s company announced outsourcing today in OKC. If we weren’t sure that we’d made the right move before, we certainly are now.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Not a bad day for shopping in NJ. We tried IKEA again and it wasn’t very busy. It had been, apparently, because the shelves we wanted were out of stock. Hopefully, when we get visitors, our place will look a little more like a home and less like a box. We did go to Pier 1 and find a barstool. I’m so happy that at least one of us can sit and eat like a normal person. Picnics are okay for a while, but they get tiresome.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Due to some sort of law in Bergen County, we couldn’t do our planned shopping. So, we’re enjoying a quiet day. Here are some factoids about our new home.
Bergen County:
21st wealthiest county in the nation
most populous county in the state of NJ
blue laws exist, which means that most places are closed except we’ve observed gas stations, grocery stores, restaurants, and liquor stores are open
Teterboro Airport is located here
Park Ridge:
A borough in Bergen County, NJ
2.6 square miles
The Bear’s Nest, a luxury gated community where Richard Nixon resided, is located here. Currently, Tom Coughlin, the NY Giants coach lives there.
James Gandolfini (Tony Soprano) grew up here.
Gas price around the corner: $2.95/ gallon
Walnuts at the grocery store: $9.99/bag
Bergen County:
21st wealthiest county in the nation
most populous county in the state of NJ
blue laws exist, which means that most places are closed except we’ve observed gas stations, grocery stores, restaurants, and liquor stores are open
Teterboro Airport is located here
Park Ridge:
A borough in Bergen County, NJ
2.6 square miles
The Bear’s Nest, a luxury gated community where Richard Nixon resided, is located here. Currently, Tom Coughlin, the NY Giants coach lives there.
James Gandolfini (Tony Soprano) grew up here.
Gas price around the corner: $2.95/ gallon
Walnuts at the grocery store: $9.99/bag
Saturday, January 12, 2008
We rode the train into NYC. It was Garrett’s first ride, and I felt pretty cool that I knew how to get us places. We listened to the iPod as Garrett played some appropriate tunes such as “New York, New York” and assorted songs by Jersey boys Jon Bon Jovi and Bruce Springsteen.
Central Park, as usual, was beautiful. We sat on a bench in the sun and marveled at how people simply gave their money away. Michael Jackson’s music blasted from a portable stereo system. A guy in a silver sequin jacket and hat called out to the crowd and said things like, “Okay, here we go!” and “Let’s start this show!” while three guys dressed in green tees and sweats looked like backup dancers. People walked by and dropped money in their bucket without even watching. Eventually a crowd formed and they did a little break dancing. A few blocks away, a team dressed in red were doing the same thing—but they danced a little better.
We bought some birthday and baby gifts. We ate at Sarabeth’s. We dropped in on our friends Steph and Josh in the East Village. We walked a lot.
Subway sighting: No rats were visible this time, but a lone umbrella lay between the tracks.
Central Park, as usual, was beautiful. We sat on a bench in the sun and marveled at how people simply gave their money away. Michael Jackson’s music blasted from a portable stereo system. A guy in a silver sequin jacket and hat called out to the crowd and said things like, “Okay, here we go!” and “Let’s start this show!” while three guys dressed in green tees and sweats looked like backup dancers. People walked by and dropped money in their bucket without even watching. Eventually a crowd formed and they did a little break dancing. A few blocks away, a team dressed in red were doing the same thing—but they danced a little better.
We bought some birthday and baby gifts. We ate at Sarabeth’s. We dropped in on our friends Steph and Josh in the East Village. We walked a lot.
Subway sighting: No rats were visible this time, but a lone umbrella lay between the tracks.
Friday, January 11, 2008
We had our appointment with Dr. Foley and learned the office is within walking distance of Garrett's office. He wants to see us again on Wednesday and scheduled it for when Garrett is off work. There was a little sac, so it's not ectopic. We're happy about that. He said my pains are probably normal. I couldn't read him very well, but I still liked him. I asked him if I should get excited now or wait. Garrett said, "Yes." The doctor said, "Wait a couple of more weeks." By the way, he looks super serious until he grins. When he grins he looks like he's related to the Baldwins--which, of course, the doofus in me asked him if anyone had ever told him he looked like a Baldwin. His eyes twinkled for a moment, I swear, as he grinned and nodded before he went back to his serious face.
Our couch arrived today. We are happy. Visitors may come now because it turns into their bed.
Our couch arrived today. We are happy. Visitors may come now because it turns into their bed.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Garrett and I drove to West Point tonight to visit the newest property of the U.S. government. Our friends Alison and Paul had their beautiful baby girl Ellery Rose yesterday. (Many people say babies are beautiful, but they’re usually lying. This time it’s totally true. She’s precious.) Congrats to their new little family.
It was great to get out of the little box (AKA our apartment) today. Not only did we get the great news about their baby and get to visit, but I also ventured into the city to see my friend Stephanie via train and subways. I must have had that little lost girl look on my face because most of the time people offered help before I asked for it. I didn’t get lost and got to where I wanted to, so that’s okay. The NYC subway system makes a lot more sense to me than the NJ trains—and don’t even mention the bus schedule. Geez, it’s confusing. I’ll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I’ll depend on the kindness of strangers. They’re so friendly. Some are a little overly friendly. I was asked out twice on the way there. I guess my new puffy warm coat makes me a hot ticket around here.
Steph and I went to an East Village tea room called Podunk’s. We’d both read an article online where it was listed as one of the top eight tea houses in the city. http://gonyc.about.com/od/restaurants/tp/tearooms.htm I’d read reviews where the woman who ran it either sounded like a sweet little frau or a demonic evil witch. The online reviews mentioned an unwritten rule about using cell phones under the threat of being cussed at and having things hurled at you, so we dutifully turned ours off before entering. I’d also heard that if it’s empty, we shouldn’t go in because she’s maybe chased people out. It was empty, but we were adventurous and entered anyway. I’m so glad we did. We had a delightful tea in a charming area with mismatched tables and chairs. The lady behind the counter was as sweet as her chocolate chip cookies. When I tried to pay when we picked up our tea, she said, “Oh, no. No one should ever pay before tea. It’s just not right.” After savoring her vanilla coconut tea, I asked her if she took debit, credit or cash. She smiled apologetically and said, “We only take cash, check, and IOU here.” Our eyes about popped out of our heads at the last part, but she told us we looked trustworthy and it’s always worked in the past. We had enough cash, though. To top off the day, I told her that Stephanie thought her cookies tasted like the ones her great-grandmother baked. Steph said she hadn’t had one since the ‘80s and wanted to purchase some. The woman didn’t even hesitate but popped a couple in the bag for her on the house. I’ll try the place again. Hopefully, it will be as sweet as it was today.
Subway sighting: I saw a rat the size of a small cat or a good-sized squirrel on the tracks today at the subway. I’d seen smaller ones in the past, but this one was a prize-winner.
Garrett had success at work today. Well, the gym at work, at least. The company makes them undergo a fitness evaluation before allowing them to use the facilities. Garrett completed more pushups than anyone had ever completed. He was upset. He didn’t know it was going to be a competition. If he had, he would not have worked out that morning before going to work (yes, that means he works out twice a day). Instead, he claims he would have trained specifically for the evaluation, so that no one could unseat him. Nah, he’s not competitive.
It was great to get out of the little box (AKA our apartment) today. Not only did we get the great news about their baby and get to visit, but I also ventured into the city to see my friend Stephanie via train and subways. I must have had that little lost girl look on my face because most of the time people offered help before I asked for it. I didn’t get lost and got to where I wanted to, so that’s okay. The NYC subway system makes a lot more sense to me than the NJ trains—and don’t even mention the bus schedule. Geez, it’s confusing. I’ll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I’ll depend on the kindness of strangers. They’re so friendly. Some are a little overly friendly. I was asked out twice on the way there. I guess my new puffy warm coat makes me a hot ticket around here.
Steph and I went to an East Village tea room called Podunk’s. We’d both read an article online where it was listed as one of the top eight tea houses in the city. http://gonyc.about.com/od/restaurants/tp/tearooms.htm I’d read reviews where the woman who ran it either sounded like a sweet little frau or a demonic evil witch. The online reviews mentioned an unwritten rule about using cell phones under the threat of being cussed at and having things hurled at you, so we dutifully turned ours off before entering. I’d also heard that if it’s empty, we shouldn’t go in because she’s maybe chased people out. It was empty, but we were adventurous and entered anyway. I’m so glad we did. We had a delightful tea in a charming area with mismatched tables and chairs. The lady behind the counter was as sweet as her chocolate chip cookies. When I tried to pay when we picked up our tea, she said, “Oh, no. No one should ever pay before tea. It’s just not right.” After savoring her vanilla coconut tea, I asked her if she took debit, credit or cash. She smiled apologetically and said, “We only take cash, check, and IOU here.” Our eyes about popped out of our heads at the last part, but she told us we looked trustworthy and it’s always worked in the past. We had enough cash, though. To top off the day, I told her that Stephanie thought her cookies tasted like the ones her great-grandmother baked. Steph said she hadn’t had one since the ‘80s and wanted to purchase some. The woman didn’t even hesitate but popped a couple in the bag for her on the house. I’ll try the place again. Hopefully, it will be as sweet as it was today.
Subway sighting: I saw a rat the size of a small cat or a good-sized squirrel on the tracks today at the subway. I’d seen smaller ones in the past, but this one was a prize-winner.
Garrett had success at work today. Well, the gym at work, at least. The company makes them undergo a fitness evaluation before allowing them to use the facilities. Garrett completed more pushups than anyone had ever completed. He was upset. He didn’t know it was going to be a competition. If he had, he would not have worked out that morning before going to work (yes, that means he works out twice a day). Instead, he claims he would have trained specifically for the evaluation, so that no one could unseat him. Nah, he’s not competitive.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Jersey may be called the Garden State, but it seems more like the land of highways and malls. Minnesota’s Mall of America is impressive, but we saw its little brother tonight. It contained all the shopping and restaurants within several miles of our home in Edmond and then some. Not only did it include Macy’s and JC Penney’s and all that, but it also had an IMAX and an AMC plus a Target and Home Depot in addition to a jillion places to eat and shop that they didn’t even bother to mention on the mall guides.
It was nice to finally get some lamps in our bedroom so that we could see. I’m also thrilled to have some cooking utensils. No matter where you are in the USA, Target totally rocks.
It was nice to finally get some lamps in our bedroom so that we could see. I’m also thrilled to have some cooking utensils. No matter where you are in the USA, Target totally rocks.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
We ate dinner last night in a town called Nyack, NY, at a great restaurant called Wasabi. We met our friends Alison and Paul there. Alison is one of the cutest pregnant women I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s all fit and trim with just a round little bump on her tummy. Her due date is today. She’s my local baby-mama guru. It’s nice to have friends nearby. I hope she delivers soon or her patience may wear thin. I think I heard talk of creative and dangerous ways to get that baby out.
After researching doctors last night, Garrett and I made a list of names. My first call couldn’t work me in until the 29th. Plus, they rotated patients with six different doctors at two different locations. Um, no thank you. Maybe if I were a normal woman, but c’mon. I finally got in with one that would see me this Friday. It’s so close that Garrett may even pop in. This baby thing seems to be working out this time. Garrett said if we made it all as inconvenient as possible it would work. Boy, was he right.
The UPS guy delivered three boxes of clothes and a small television today. Hooray! Life is returning to some sort of normalcy. The fact that I had no knives and made dinner with an apple peeler and apple corer does not change the fact that dinner is cooking in the crockpot.
After researching doctors last night, Garrett and I made a list of names. My first call couldn’t work me in until the 29th. Plus, they rotated patients with six different doctors at two different locations. Um, no thank you. Maybe if I were a normal woman, but c’mon. I finally got in with one that would see me this Friday. It’s so close that Garrett may even pop in. This baby thing seems to be working out this time. Garrett said if we made it all as inconvenient as possible it would work. Boy, was he right.
The UPS guy delivered three boxes of clothes and a small television today. Hooray! Life is returning to some sort of normalcy. The fact that I had no knives and made dinner with an apple peeler and apple corer does not change the fact that dinner is cooking in the crockpot.
Monday, January 7, 2008
What is it with the medical system here? I know I’m spoiled at our little clinic in Oklahoma City, but I didn’t realize just how good we had it. For a blood test, all I needed to do was show up, greet all the friendly staff, and chat in the waiting room with another Resolve gal until I skipped into a room where one of the nurses—or even my own doctor—drew my blood.
You ain’t home anymore, Dorothy.
I was told Monday wouldn’t be as long a wait as Saturday. Wrooooong! I waited an hour and fifteen minutes in a room with more sick people and several sick babies. The babies were cute, but it was pretty sad to see them sick and hear their raspy coughs. The end result is that our HCG hadn’t doubled, but it was at 80% and our doc said that he was happy with that. All I have to do now is schedule an ultrasound for this Friday to make sure it’s not an ectopic pregnancy. I hope an OB/GYN experience isn’t comparable to having some blood drawn. Geez.
On a happy baby note, OU welcomed another Sooner fan today. Congratulations to my friend Christy and her husband Greg on their brand new little girl Allison who was born today. She’s going to be a stylish little diva because that child already has more shoes than most third world countries. And why not? I can’t wait to meet her.
You ain’t home anymore, Dorothy.
I was told Monday wouldn’t be as long a wait as Saturday. Wrooooong! I waited an hour and fifteen minutes in a room with more sick people and several sick babies. The babies were cute, but it was pretty sad to see them sick and hear their raspy coughs. The end result is that our HCG hadn’t doubled, but it was at 80% and our doc said that he was happy with that. All I have to do now is schedule an ultrasound for this Friday to make sure it’s not an ectopic pregnancy. I hope an OB/GYN experience isn’t comparable to having some blood drawn. Geez.
On a happy baby note, OU welcomed another Sooner fan today. Congratulations to my friend Christy and her husband Greg on their brand new little girl Allison who was born today. She’s going to be a stylish little diva because that child already has more shoes than most third world countries. And why not? I can’t wait to meet her.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
I thought it was a tornado siren. Garrett insisted it was an air raid siren. Neither sounded good. We were so tired we just went back to bed.
Since our local dining experience was interrupted yesterday, we wanted to try out The Ridge again. Breakfast was delicious. The same waitress, Allison, waited on us. We asked her about the sirens from the night before and she had no idea what we meant. The owner didn’t either. I felt like we were in the Twilight Zone and everyone was pretending they hadn’t heard because, in fact, it was some alien alarm or something. Instead, the owner indicated it might be the fire alarm. Holy cow. I was worried the train would be bothersome. Instead, we’ve got blaring announcements to gather the firemen.
Bright and shiny! Reds and greens and oranges right from a Crayola box filled the shelves. The produce in the grocery store was so colorful it looked like waxed “art” set out on Aunt Gert’s coffee table. Much of the fruit was organic, so we know it didn’t have all that fake stuff on it to brighten it. We were astounded at the freshness of the veggies and herbs. In addition to that there was a fish counter and a meat counter and a deli counter. Also, there was an entire area set up of OLIVES and another for CHEESE. I thought I was going to faint with delight right there in the store. It’s definitely set up for different clientele than home. We had to hunt for salsa, and the variety was limited. However, three separate kiosks were dedicated to pasta, tomato sauce, and olive oil. A lot of kosher food was available, too, so when I went to select pickles, I chose kosher organic. What could be healthier? The prices are a bit higher but not crazy. It’s more like shopping at Albertson’s as opposed to Wal-Mart Market. You may think I’m a little over-excited about groceries, but you didn’t see it, did you?
Later we joined The Gym. That’s the name of it. The Gym. It was the cleanest gym I’ve ever been in and didn’t smell like a gym at all. I’m looking forward to their Pilates and yoga classes. Plus, they have a Broadway Dance class that looks way fun. Garrett got up at 5 this morning and went. That’s dedication.
Garrett wants me to mention how “crazy expensive” The Gym is. Do you really want to know? Well, we’re paid up for life in Oklahoma at All-American. Sure, it stinks. Sure, it’s dirty. But it’s paid for. This place costs us $200 a month.
Since our local dining experience was interrupted yesterday, we wanted to try out The Ridge again. Breakfast was delicious. The same waitress, Allison, waited on us. We asked her about the sirens from the night before and she had no idea what we meant. The owner didn’t either. I felt like we were in the Twilight Zone and everyone was pretending they hadn’t heard because, in fact, it was some alien alarm or something. Instead, the owner indicated it might be the fire alarm. Holy cow. I was worried the train would be bothersome. Instead, we’ve got blaring announcements to gather the firemen.
Bright and shiny! Reds and greens and oranges right from a Crayola box filled the shelves. The produce in the grocery store was so colorful it looked like waxed “art” set out on Aunt Gert’s coffee table. Much of the fruit was organic, so we know it didn’t have all that fake stuff on it to brighten it. We were astounded at the freshness of the veggies and herbs. In addition to that there was a fish counter and a meat counter and a deli counter. Also, there was an entire area set up of OLIVES and another for CHEESE. I thought I was going to faint with delight right there in the store. It’s definitely set up for different clientele than home. We had to hunt for salsa, and the variety was limited. However, three separate kiosks were dedicated to pasta, tomato sauce, and olive oil. A lot of kosher food was available, too, so when I went to select pickles, I chose kosher organic. What could be healthier? The prices are a bit higher but not crazy. It’s more like shopping at Albertson’s as opposed to Wal-Mart Market. You may think I’m a little over-excited about groceries, but you didn’t see it, did you?
Later we joined The Gym. That’s the name of it. The Gym. It was the cleanest gym I’ve ever been in and didn’t smell like a gym at all. I’m looking forward to their Pilates and yoga classes. Plus, they have a Broadway Dance class that looks way fun. Garrett got up at 5 this morning and went. That’s dedication.
Garrett wants me to mention how “crazy expensive” The Gym is. Do you really want to know? Well, we’re paid up for life in Oklahoma at All-American. Sure, it stinks. Sure, it’s dirty. But it’s paid for. This place costs us $200 a month.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Garrett said, “If anyone thinks socialized medicine is a good idea, they should come here first.” We arrived at Lab Corps at 7:10. We were told to be there as close to opening as possible because it was only open from 7-11. When we arrived, at least 20 faces turned our way. Not a single chair was available in the waiting room. For the hour we waited, there were no fewer people; in fact, overflow went into the hall. Some people had arrived at 6:30. I thought waits like that only happened in other countries.
Afterward, we had breakfast at Tiffany’s. No, no jewelry in sight. No Holly Golightly, either. It’s a cute Art Deco diner on Route 17 that has Tiffany lamps all over the place. The waiters dress in slacks and ties--at a diner! I was so hungry I ate my breakfast and half of Garrett’s. For those of you who know us, this is atypical. First of all, Garrett let me take food off his plate. (Once I asked him to hold an ice cream cone while I buckled my seatbelt. When I turned around, he’d eaten it.) Secondly, I don’t usually consume all of my own breakfast, much less someone else’s. Yes, it was that good.
By lunch I was starving again. We walked down the street from our apartment to check out the local diner. Christmas greetings were still up in English, Greek, and Spanish. Everyone greeted us with a smile. I keep saying I feel like this little place is like Star’s Hollow from Gilmore Girls. If so, this is a friendly Luke’s. Hooray! We’d just ordered when Sears called an hour early to say they were five minutes away with our mattress. Garrett ran to meet them. Our helpful waitress kept the food warm until I asked her to sack it up for us. I met Garrett crossing the street, and we had our first meal in our home. Even cold, the food was great.
Later, we spent more time and money at IKEA. It’s a pretty amazing place when they create furniture that allows a chest of drawers, two bedside tables, a chair and ottoman to fit neatly in your trunk. It may not be the highest quality, but it certainly is convenient.
Wal-Mart called to us and we answered. So did a lot of other people. They were all draped in long dark coats and hats. The men didn’t look me in the eye and one made a bit of a dramatic lunge to keep me from running into him as we passed on the aisle. I’ve never seen so many Hassidic Jews in one place—even when we happened upon the Israeli Independence Day Parade in NYC last year with my parents.
Afterward, we had breakfast at Tiffany’s. No, no jewelry in sight. No Holly Golightly, either. It’s a cute Art Deco diner on Route 17 that has Tiffany lamps all over the place. The waiters dress in slacks and ties--at a diner! I was so hungry I ate my breakfast and half of Garrett’s. For those of you who know us, this is atypical. First of all, Garrett let me take food off his plate. (Once I asked him to hold an ice cream cone while I buckled my seatbelt. When I turned around, he’d eaten it.) Secondly, I don’t usually consume all of my own breakfast, much less someone else’s. Yes, it was that good.
By lunch I was starving again. We walked down the street from our apartment to check out the local diner. Christmas greetings were still up in English, Greek, and Spanish. Everyone greeted us with a smile. I keep saying I feel like this little place is like Star’s Hollow from Gilmore Girls. If so, this is a friendly Luke’s. Hooray! We’d just ordered when Sears called an hour early to say they were five minutes away with our mattress. Garrett ran to meet them. Our helpful waitress kept the food warm until I asked her to sack it up for us. I met Garrett crossing the street, and we had our first meal in our home. Even cold, the food was great.
Later, we spent more time and money at IKEA. It’s a pretty amazing place when they create furniture that allows a chest of drawers, two bedside tables, a chair and ottoman to fit neatly in your trunk. It may not be the highest quality, but it certainly is convenient.
Wal-Mart called to us and we answered. So did a lot of other people. They were all draped in long dark coats and hats. The men didn’t look me in the eye and one made a bit of a dramatic lunge to keep me from running into him as we passed on the aisle. I’ve never seen so many Hassidic Jews in one place—even when we happened upon the Israeli Independence Day Parade in NYC last year with my parents.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Five degrees. Outside. Brrr.
Garrett’s contour pillow was frozen solid and the car wasn’t happy about starting.
Our hotel was across the street from Indiana State Museum and an American Indian Art Museum. Garrett said no. Geez, I thought he wanted to see some stuff. He claims he liked how we saw St. Louis. Okay, I get it now.
Somewhere in Ohio, Priscilla, one of the fabulous nurses, called to tell us she had found a lab. We didn’t have to worry about anything but showing up. She faxed the scrips and told us where and when. I love her.
We stayed in New Columbia, PA. We don’t recommend dining there. Bonanza sucks. That’s a “restaurant” that serves undercooked chicken. It still squawked. However, the Holiday Inn Express was pleasant. Just like the commercials, we were smarter after staying there. We’ll never eat at another Bonanza again.
Garrett’s contour pillow was frozen solid and the car wasn’t happy about starting.
Our hotel was across the street from Indiana State Museum and an American Indian Art Museum. Garrett said no. Geez, I thought he wanted to see some stuff. He claims he liked how we saw St. Louis. Okay, I get it now.
Somewhere in Ohio, Priscilla, one of the fabulous nurses, called to tell us she had found a lab. We didn’t have to worry about anything but showing up. She faxed the scrips and told us where and when. I love her.
We stayed in New Columbia, PA. We don’t recommend dining there. Bonanza sucks. That’s a “restaurant” that serves undercooked chicken. It still squawked. However, the Holiday Inn Express was pleasant. Just like the commercials, we were smarter after staying there. We’ll never eat at another Bonanza again.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
We said goodbye to our home in Edmond and went to get my blood drawn to see if we were pregnant. Dr. Haas was sentimental and hugged us both goodbye and said he hoped to see me in a couple of weeks—for the heartbeat ultrasound. At Ruby Tuesdays in Springfield, Missouri, we got word that the numbers had not doubled as expected and that we needed to find a lab when we arrived.
Sure. No big deal.
Then Garrett drove. And drove. And drove some more.
Garrett had wanted to see the St. Louis Arch. I thought he might want to go in it. I remember that when I was a kid I thought the elevator was tiny and wondered what he’d think. As we continued to drive, I learned that when Garrett said he wanted to “see” it, that’s all he wanted to do.
I wasn’t done sightseeing. I wanted to go to the Jesse James Wax Museum. Garrett claims that we didn’t go because it was closed. He only noticed that after he didn’t take the exit.
Somehow we escaped the dangers of the open road. Warning: a silly blond girl in a red Volkswagen bug reads as she drives. She swerved all over the road and appeared startled and genuinely surprised to see us when we honked at her before she almost hit us. We got a good look at her face because she had the car light on. I guess she thought it was a reading lamp. That girl was crazy.
We spent the night in Indianapolis. The city is building an enormous new stadium for the Colts. It was huge as we drove past it. We stayed downtown, and it looked a lot like Bricktown—except with huge smokestacks billowing purple smoke. Eerie.
Sure. No big deal.
Then Garrett drove. And drove. And drove some more.
Garrett had wanted to see the St. Louis Arch. I thought he might want to go in it. I remember that when I was a kid I thought the elevator was tiny and wondered what he’d think. As we continued to drive, I learned that when Garrett said he wanted to “see” it, that’s all he wanted to do.
I wasn’t done sightseeing. I wanted to go to the Jesse James Wax Museum. Garrett claims that we didn’t go because it was closed. He only noticed that after he didn’t take the exit.
Somehow we escaped the dangers of the open road. Warning: a silly blond girl in a red Volkswagen bug reads as she drives. She swerved all over the road and appeared startled and genuinely surprised to see us when we honked at her before she almost hit us. We got a good look at her face because she had the car light on. I guess she thought it was a reading lamp. That girl was crazy.
We spent the night in Indianapolis. The city is building an enormous new stadium for the Colts. It was huge as we drove past it. We stayed downtown, and it looked a lot like Bricktown—except with huge smokestacks billowing purple smoke. Eerie.
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