Nov 24, 2005

Taking Tea With Catherine

This past weekend, it was nice to get away...especially with a friend. Catherine accompanied me to West Palm Beach. We haven't traveled together in soooo long - since England. Wow. Anyway, it was Cathy's first domestic flight & first time taking off from LaGuardia Airport. It was a good flight with good TV. We landed pretty late, like 12:30 and we took a cab to the house. We quickly shed our jackets, and were greeted with warm air and a light misting of rain. That night I was excited, so I cleaned all three toilets. (They were not really dirty, but they had water stains from the stagnant water).

The next morning the bright sun woke me up (I need curtains desperately!) so I embarked on another project, cleaning the melted chocolate ice cream from the freezer from when the power was out. (Thanks, Wilma). I also struggled with putting in a water filter in the refrigerator for the water/ice maker. Afterwards, we showered, got dressed to the nines and went out to tea. I was kinda nervous driving around with expired temporary plates, but I paid no mind. This tea house was very quaint (there's that word again) and smelled like an old apartment while still maintaining the charm of a quiet tea room. There were many tea rooms, and we were placed in the "Green Room." At first Cathy wasn't feeling well, but as the tea was poured and the little finger sandwiches were brought in I could see she was feeling better. Or maybe the drugs were kicking in. I enjoyed the sandwiches, it was after 1 and we were starving so we daintily wolfed them down while sipping on tea. I had Strawberry Black tea and Cathy, or Catherine (her tea name) had Darjeeling. After that, we took pictures in the garden (or gizarden) and since I didn't have a digital camera on me (shame!) I snapped this shot with my phone:


After that, I got my license surrendered at the DMV - and shred my last part of my New York identity! I know I sound dramatic, but I was actually very sad. Then we went to the Palm Beach Gardens Mall and the shopaholic (you know who you are) did not buy a thing. Very proud of her.

This trip was pleasant, the weather was beautiful and just as we were settling in vacation was time to go home! I was really enjoying my Senseo coffee maker too! (The coffee pods beat scooping and measuring).


Oh well, until next time!

To The Anonymous Commenter:

Sombodie neds to lurn how to spel befoor makin comants on peepul’s blogs.

Also, they need to get a life if they spend that much time getting so upset over innocent bloggers and their musings. Honestly, there are so many stupid blogs out there…funny that they would choose ours.

I say, get your own blog!

And as for me, I will keep on bloggin' whether you like it or not.

"The Stranger"

I woke up to these words: “Who are you? Who ARE you?” The next thing I hear, “Marie! Anthony!” I jumped out of bed blinded in the darkness and I ran out. My aunt who was sleeping in the loft bed turned on the light because she thought my mom was dreaming, but what happens next is very real. I came out into the living room, and saw this six foot man standing on the foot of my mother’s bed, his hands outstretched waving them up and down saying: “Relax, relax…”

Seconds, just seconds pass…a million thoughts were running through my mind. One dominant thought rang clear that this man clearly does not belong here. What is he doing in our apartment? Does he have weapons? What did he come here to do? I was speechless, numb. I could hear my aunt frantic but no one moved. I glanced to the side and saw Anthony coming out; he woke up from the commotion. I now walked towards this man, I charged towards him determined to do one thing, to GET HIM OUT. Anthony did not realize there was a man in the house, and when he saw him he threatened calling the police. As we both walked towards him, he backed away and went to the door, and as he was leaving, he paused by the door and said “I said…okay.” I ran after the door, closed it and peeked through the peephole and saw him casually go down the stairs. I fumbled with the locks, I couldn’t even lock the door, I was so freaked.

We called the police and they came like 30 minutes later. We told them the story, and they were so quick to assume the guy was a drunk who thought he lived there. This guy was not drunk; he was very calm in an eerie, controlling way. And he didn't stumble around. There was no sign of forced entry, so we think someone may have left the door unlocked. But that still does not warrant the entry of a stranger. We gave the police our description of the creepy bearded six foot man wearing a backpack. We made the police look on the roof, down and around, but we didn’t hear back from them. So this incident remains a mystery. I am certain that his intent was to rape, rob or murder. He didn’t realize there were 4 people in the apartment that night. I am just so grateful that this man did not whip out a weapon and kill us all. Now we sleep with the door barricaded.

LORD OF THE FLEAS - The End of an Era

This was my first real job. I was so sad to hear that it closed; I almost felt that this legacy would keep on living. I was 17 when I started, and still in high school. I remember my first Saturday working there - it was strange, new, liberating. Every week I religiously deposited $100 in the bank from my tiny paycheck. But I had money for school and the 50% discount made me a regular customer at the store. I first started out working weekends. It was hard. On Sunday I had to go to other meetings. But it was fun being picked up from work on Friday night and going out somewhere like BBQ's. It was also nice getting visitors and seeing not so famous people. My co-workers were always sweet and since I was the baby, they took care of me. My tasks were straightening up and handling the register. After a year or so there was a job opening in the warehouse, and I said sure, why not? It was summer; I was off from school so I started working full time. So goodbye 2142 Broadway, hello 12th street & avenue A! It was not bad working there; I ordered lots of pasta from this fantastic little quaint Italian place called "La Casalinga". I worked for a husband and wife team, so I was now going to work under the husband, Jeremy Archer. Carol Archer mainly oversaw the uptown location (they also had a 9th street store location). And Jeremy spent every day in the warehouse. So now I handled all the new clothes that came in, put tags on them and created labels for them in the computer. I also managed inventory. Jeremy was a cool boss - and a workaholic. Quite an interesting individual. An Irishman by blood, but raised in England. (I think his Mother was Irish). He also spent some years living in Paris and Australia. So as you may imagine, he had this accent that you couldn't quite place - but your best guess would be English. He was into politics and he was vegan. He ate jalapeƱos all the time with his food because he believed it kept him from being sick. The job was flexible with my schedule when I started college. After deciding to spend the last year of school full time, I said goodbye…but it never quite felt like goodbye, because whenever I would visit, it kind of felt like home. But little by little all the familiar things were drifting away. Soon after I left, our UPS guy whom we befriended was transferred to another route. Also later, their bookkeeper and cousin who has worked for them for years started working as a paralegal. Things were definitely changing. So now, they have closed shop, and from what I hear they have opened a bed & breakfast. Sounds lovely…and totally different from the fashion industry. I know Jeremy was dabbling in real estate, and this must have come up as an opportunity for them to create a new business. Juggling both of the businesses would have been impossible, due to their deep involvement, and perhaps now husband and wife can work together under one roof. Sounds like a happy ending, doesn’t it? I wonder what the B&B is called, Lord of the Bed Bugs? Okay, I know – that was corny, but I couldn’t resist.

Nov 4, 2005

Some "Feel Good" Advice

  • Listen to music by a pop star you would never admit to liking

  • Schedule a girl's night out - and party like it's 1999

  • Be your own therapist

  • Spend some time alone - and enjoy it

  • Find out what your personality flaws are and work on them

  • Pour over old pictures and memories once in a while

  • Lucky jeans are worth every darn penny! (I'm not into status symbol clothing, but if you ever get a chance to snag a pair on sale, you will thank me!)

    Can't think of anything else at the moment...

  • Nov 2, 2005

    My baby, Isabel. When she closes her eyes, her face disappears.


    Bought these boots recently. Shoot, Ima wear 'em in Florida!
    I don't care if it's 90 degrees.

    "Village Girl"

    My boss said I looked like a "Village Girl" today. I guess I am wearing a fairly trendy outfit. (A tank w/ a short grey cable sweater with a antiqued jean mermaid skirt). It took me back to Junior High School when I saw these hispanic girls fighting, and the "big insult" was one calling the other a "village girl". How dumb.