Happy Easter!

Short and sweet because we're enjoying open windows in the apartment, our first Easter brunch for two, leisurely walks and long conversations this weekend.

He is risen!


My husband, the charmer.

After a particularly long day this week, I came home to flowers, a glass of wine, French onion soup and a lobster roll, courtesy of my husband.

It's decided: this guy has officially learned how to speak my love language.


From the top of the Bryant Park Hotel.

I've been MIA this week because I've been off celebrating birthdays and an upcoming wedding, and stressing about a client event that we had at the Bryant Park Hotel this morning. 

But these views. Ah-mazing.



I went out to a great new Thai place in our neighborhood with an old friend (who is moving 2 blocks away!) We held a celebration for a coworker who moved to Miami. I stayed with my friends Heather and Brian in Massachusetts, where they made me a husband replica to sleep next to. We snuggled with pup (a lot) and enjoyed the company of Blake's older brother for a weekend. I ate pierogis with my little sister at a Polish restaurant in the East Village. Some of my coworkers took me out to celebrate my promotion. We made an enormous bowl of guacamole at small group and ate.it.all. 


The greenest dinner.

On Saturday night we headed to Eataly to grab something to make for dinner the following night. Eataly is essentially a grocery store... but it feels something like what I imagine Willy Wonka's chocolate factory would have been like if it were full of quality produce, homemade pasta and wine imported from Italy.

Tonight we (finally) put together what ended up being a very green, delicious dinner. New York, your grocery stores almost make us enjoy buying food. Almost.


On Pride.

Let me be real with you. You'll allow that, won't you?

I realize that I may have spread myself a little thin over the last six months. Said "yes! where do I sign up?" when I probably should have been saying "slow down, now." I hate the thought of losing out, giving in, waiting for life to happen when there's so much of it happening all around me. But there's a level of pride in taking on too much that's just uncalled for. In the most literal sense, I find myself panicking that someone will see me struuuuggling to carry a large box at the office and will offer to help me. Or worse yet, they'll help without asking and then I'll feel a little inadequate in the whole "sister suffragette" sense (which, if you've known me longer than 10 minutes, is kind of my soapbox message).

After a particularly stressful morning this week, I went into the bathroom and noticed hives all over my chest. A big old nasty rash that was just so flattering against a red v-neck. And I'm like, "well, aren't you just a mess, Stevie."

My point being: there's a classiness to being able to laugh at yourself. Pride is such an ugly trait. And for goodness sakes, is there any fun in being superwoman, anyway? Besides the cape, I mean. Everyone wants a nice cape.


The parks in March.

As the days have gotten (slightly) warmer, we've been trying to enjoy some of the city's beautiful parks.  You are magic in the anticipation of spring, New York. Pure magic.


Midnight walks.

I worked on a midterm all day on Saturday, so when I finally had a window of freedom, we wanted to get out of the apartment. At midnight, we took a forty minute walk across Midtown to Serendipity 3 because (gasp!) we'd never been. We don't do touristy things nearly as often as we should.


Saving a seat for Loo.

Back in high school, my oldest friend and I had a few classes together, in which we would pass copious notes. They were usually of the nerdy variety - How far did you get in X book? Can you save a seat for me at lunch? Are you going to orchestra today? We were excused from the more popular crowd rather swiftly when we transferred from a small private school to a mid-sized public school. Thankfully, we were used to each other's company at that point, and we definitely didn't notice how odd we seemed in our plaid (oh, yes) pants and obsession with Robert Frost.

In any case, we were terrified that teachers would find these oh-so-secret notes, so we started signing off with alternate names - Kamaria and Praline (both with the nerdiest significance that I can't even discuss). Years down the road, we're still Kam and Lina Loo (Loo for short, obviously). 

And that's the way it's always been with me and Loo. We get older and change our addresses and hairstyles and dreams and still, there we are. Kam and Loo, still slightly obsessed with dead poets and maybe a little unaware of how odd we are. 

Loo came to visit last night and we went out to dinner with another dear friend who lives here in the city. The three of us are like puzzle pieces when we're together - three parts to a loud, fast-talking whole. I'm not sure that getting older means growing out of things, just moving them around to make space for the rivers of experience to flow through. But gosh, how I'd like to give larger pieces of time real estate to these friends. 

These visits and weekly phone calls are so important to me, and I hope she knows it. There's always a place here for my lovely, oldest friends. 


Butterless Cookies.

When my mind is too full of thoughts and my planner is too full of plans, I share photos of cookies. The most delicious butterless oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from Half Baked Harvest.

2 1/2 c old fashioned oats
2 c flour
1/2 c sugar
1 c brown sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 c canola oil
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 c semi-sweet chocolate chips

Directions at the link above. 

Happy almost Friday!


Birthday in Boston.

I headed up to Boston this weekend for a dear friend's birthday celebration. We went out to dinner, danced through the evening and talked until 3am. I can't even believe that years have passed since we were getting ready for college dances together - now we're preparing for her wedding in August. And thank goodness for those college dances, because this girl taught me everything I ever needed to know about getting down to 90s pop music (if their wedding band only covers Hanson, no one will be surprised)...

Yesterday morning I reconnected with another friend who I haven't seen in a year. A year! And suddenly he's planning for the next stage in his life, one that will probably involve something wonderful and someplace farther than Boston. But secretly, I do hope he stays, because I will never stop being able to justify a 4 hour bus trip to see the people who have heard my stories a dozen times and rarely tell me so.


Run the World.

A couple of months ago, I started helping out with an awesome organization called She's the First. STF is a non-profit that sponsors girls' education in developing countries, helping them become the first in their families to graduate from high school. Funds are raised by young people all over the United States who host cupcake bake sales (and so many other cool events), sponsor girls individually and raise awareness via social media. It's a fantastic cause that's so close to my heart.

Today, we started our Run the World campaign, which encourages athletes and non-athletes alike to run for change throughout the spring. With proceeds from this program, we hope to sponsor the education of 100 girls from Ethiopia, Tanzania, Uganda, Kenya, South Sudan, India, Nepal and Guatemala. Check out the link to read more about how to set up a fundraising page so that friends, family and coworkers can match your miles or minutes.

What's better than supporting the education of one of these smart, lovely young women while also doing something good for your health?