I did not grumble when D'Souza roused me at 6am on Sunday for our voyage North.
We departed promptly at 6:17am from Lakeside Trail...the sun rose on the way. I think that might be the first sunrise I've seen in the '00s.
Later that day, we departed from University Ave. after a HORRIBLE Indian buffet at Diamonds--the only Indian joint in downtown Ithaca--(outrageous consideration the number of Indians roaming around the Cornell campus that they don't have decent desi food!). We saw the sunset as we crossed the GW Bridge at 6:42pm.
I don't think I've ever seen the sunrise and set on the same day--especially not whilst riding beside someone special through a scenic slice of the American landscape.
October 2, 2007
You Gotta have Faith Faith Faith
Though I love the George Michael song...this entry is in no way related to that late '80s classic.
On the ride back from Ithaca on Sunday, D'Souza turned down the radio to reveal to me a crisis of faith. He's a devout Catholic. A devotion I deeply respect. So when he confessed to me that he didn't understand how some people could be given such a sad lot in life when predestination was the premise of Catholicism, I was relieved and alarmed. Relieved that he questioned authority and alarmed that he questioned his faith. He clarified a common misconception about free will which I struggled with.
He explained that predestination does not predicate decision-making. Said another way, just because God know what we will do in the future he has no influence our decision. Free will dictates that we are the sole bearers of that responsibility.
If given the choice between sleeping in and mass I don't see much of a choice--I sleep in. D'Souza, on the other hand, pulled in front of a church to say a quiet prayer--on our way back from Ithaca--since no mass times were possible during our journey.
On the ride back from Ithaca on Sunday, D'Souza turned down the radio to reveal to me a crisis of faith. He's a devout Catholic. A devotion I deeply respect. So when he confessed to me that he didn't understand how some people could be given such a sad lot in life when predestination was the premise of Catholicism, I was relieved and alarmed. Relieved that he questioned authority and alarmed that he questioned his faith. He clarified a common misconception about free will which I struggled with.
He explained that predestination does not predicate decision-making. Said another way, just because God know what we will do in the future he has no influence our decision. Free will dictates that we are the sole bearers of that responsibility.
If given the choice between sleeping in and mass I don't see much of a choice--I sleep in. D'Souza, on the other hand, pulled in front of a church to say a quiet prayer--on our way back from Ithaca--since no mass times were possible during our journey.
September 8, 2007
Dance Manhattan
My mom presented D'Souza and I with 4 classes at Dance Manhattan for our upcoming birthdays. His is Oct. 3 and mine is Oct. 18. We turn 27.
Luckey's is on Oct. 10 and he will be 2 (in puppy years--for a dog his size--that's 10 in people years).
We missed our first class yesterday because I had to haul ass to Jersey to be in the fashion show fundraiser. My mom was in it too. Good times abounded. Alright, not really, but it was for a good cause.
Luckey's is on Oct. 10 and he will be 2 (in puppy years--for a dog his size--that's 10 in people years).
We missed our first class yesterday because I had to haul ass to Jersey to be in the fashion show fundraiser. My mom was in it too. Good times abounded. Alright, not really, but it was for a good cause.
Bowery Poetry Club
All fans and eager Sweet sighters are welcome to watch me read at the Bowery Poetry Club on September 29, 2007--sometime between 12pm-2pm--hope some of you will come out to show your support.
For the haters, I think the venue is pro-booing so you should come out as well. My poetry is much more fun to mock while I'm reading it in front of a live audience.
For the haters, I think the venue is pro-booing so you should come out as well. My poetry is much more fun to mock while I'm reading it in front of a live audience.
Plan B
I have recently put Plan B into effect in my life.
Is this Plan B a
a) form of emergency contraception?
b) decision to attend business school?
c) clear understanding that I must give up on Plan A and follow the alternative plan for my life?
d) all of the above.
e) none of the above.
Is this Plan B a
a) form of emergency contraception?
b) decision to attend business school?
c) clear understanding that I must give up on Plan A and follow the alternative plan for my life?
d) all of the above.
e) none of the above.
The Budget
D'Souza is fastidious about maintaining his finances in an ornately organized Excel spreadsheet. I was honored when I got my own tab on said spreadsheet a few months ago...
Recently we sat down and created a budget together--a budget he later threw out the window given my penchant for whining about the limitations it imposed on my lifestyle--
In creating this budget I was reminded of his frequent assurances that he was a BIG spender. However big spenders do not budget to the second decimal point. I was amazed at his versatility in squandering wealth distributed to him and saving money hard-earned by him. I suppose this is second nature to most people but I am a product of opposite world. I always had a hard time spending someone else's money and absolutely revel in extinguishing my self-created resources. While there is no guilt in my penniless proclivity there are plenty of consequences.
That said, some props must be given in my ability to save and sensibly utilize resources provided by others. It must speak to my inherent character in some meager way. Well, I certainly hope it does.
The point of this budget entry being this: I've always balanced my checkbook in my head and that's exactly why I have over-draft protection.
Recently we sat down and created a budget together--a budget he later threw out the window given my penchant for whining about the limitations it imposed on my lifestyle--
In creating this budget I was reminded of his frequent assurances that he was a BIG spender. However big spenders do not budget to the second decimal point. I was amazed at his versatility in squandering wealth distributed to him and saving money hard-earned by him. I suppose this is second nature to most people but I am a product of opposite world. I always had a hard time spending someone else's money and absolutely revel in extinguishing my self-created resources. While there is no guilt in my penniless proclivity there are plenty of consequences.
That said, some props must be given in my ability to save and sensibly utilize resources provided by others. It must speak to my inherent character in some meager way. Well, I certainly hope it does.
The point of this budget entry being this: I've always balanced my checkbook in my head and that's exactly why I have over-draft protection.
Roadtrip USA
Last night at 12am when we got home from the Sri-Lankan fashion show fundraiser at an Indian restaurant in Parsipanny, New Jersey, I was wide awake and ready to plan our cross-country Christmas roadtrip. Sadly, D'Souza was sleepy.
That's a theme in my life now.
I'm a night owl. I have professed this since the beginning. Anyone who knows me will attest to my nocturnal ways. When I met him, he led me to believe he was a night person as well. Of course, he was also clear about being a morning person. A reality I avoided till we started sharing a small space. He claims that back then he only needed 3-4 hours of sleep a night to be fully-functioning member of society. I wouldn't have bought into this claim except that in the early phases of dating he did just that. Recall the Denver date--when he flew in from Denver on a thursday to take me to dinner and flew back the next morning for a meeting in Denver.
I digress.
So, since he travels Monday-Thursday and our only time together is Friday-Sunday I find myself in a predicament. My weekends are now spent going to bed earlier than weeknights and waking up at the same time. Though he lets me sleep in on the weekends but by 9am...I'm wide awake having gone to bed SO early the night before.
Need I remind you reader, I used to go out till the wee hours of the morning and have no desire to change that lifestyle. I don't see why that has to be a life reserved for the single. In fact it is not. I have plenty of couple friends who go on dates into the wee hours of the morning. It is their right and priviege as those that pay the premium to live under the bright lights of the big city.
I can see an argument for this being the lifestyle of the young...but at almost 27, are the arguments against my age already apt?
That's a theme in my life now.
I'm a night owl. I have professed this since the beginning. Anyone who knows me will attest to my nocturnal ways. When I met him, he led me to believe he was a night person as well. Of course, he was also clear about being a morning person. A reality I avoided till we started sharing a small space. He claims that back then he only needed 3-4 hours of sleep a night to be fully-functioning member of society. I wouldn't have bought into this claim except that in the early phases of dating he did just that. Recall the Denver date--when he flew in from Denver on a thursday to take me to dinner and flew back the next morning for a meeting in Denver.
I digress.
So, since he travels Monday-Thursday and our only time together is Friday-Sunday I find myself in a predicament. My weekends are now spent going to bed earlier than weeknights and waking up at the same time. Though he lets me sleep in on the weekends but by 9am...I'm wide awake having gone to bed SO early the night before.
Need I remind you reader, I used to go out till the wee hours of the morning and have no desire to change that lifestyle. I don't see why that has to be a life reserved for the single. In fact it is not. I have plenty of couple friends who go on dates into the wee hours of the morning. It is their right and priviege as those that pay the premium to live under the bright lights of the big city.
I can see an argument for this being the lifestyle of the young...but at almost 27, are the arguments against my age already apt?
August 27, 2007
August 23, 2007
Thank You, Commerce Bank!
There is a Commerce Bank on the corner of 43rd St. on 3rd Ave.
I have been to this location three times this week, heavily laden with coins my mother has been collecting for years.
In quarters alone my total was $167.42. Over the following two days I racked up another $120 bringing the lump sum figure to a whopping $280!
How remarkable to carry sacks of change to the Penny Arcade and depart with feather weight bills. I am grateful for the surcharge-free Commerce Bank.
Hereforeto, I reject my prior confession of love for the CoinStar machine which charges an egregious 8cents to the $1. Boo!
I have been to this location three times this week, heavily laden with coins my mother has been collecting for years.
In quarters alone my total was $167.42. Over the following two days I racked up another $120 bringing the lump sum figure to a whopping $280!
How remarkable to carry sacks of change to the Penny Arcade and depart with feather weight bills. I am grateful for the surcharge-free Commerce Bank.
Hereforeto, I reject my prior confession of love for the CoinStar machine which charges an egregious 8cents to the $1. Boo!
August 20, 2007
The Lakehouse
Don't get excited gentle reader, this will not be a review of the eponymous Keanu Reeves--Sandra Bullock film...it will instead highlight the weekend I spent with D'Souza at my mother and her husband's lake residence in New Jersey.
Now, the thing about D'Souza is that he loves the lake. Maybe it's the Indian Navy ex-cadet within or the fisherman roots imbued in Goans, but the fact remains: the man is a water baby. He loves boats and he loves bodies of water. In fact, he is adept in commandeering vessels on bodies of water. Water falling from the sky won't keep him on dry land. He will attach the battery to the motor and row his way to open water. Removing credence from the saying, "No man is an island unto himself!" After all, when he is in that boat that's exactly what he is.
I digress.
On Saturday, my mother had a little party for her friends. About 20 folks her age showed up and I was enlisted to cook for this event. Mind you, I've spent the majority of my years living solo using my oven for storage; however, since meeting D'Souza and establishing a system of domesticity I've been cooking. Well, perhaps preparing meals is a better description of what I really do.
The menu for the party was as follows:
Okra Kathi Rolls
Chicken Satay with Peanut sauce
Paneer Tikka
Cucumber Sandwiches
Mom's handiwork:
Samosas (Fresh out of the oven, defrosted just as I recall growing up.)
Tandoori Chicken (Her single most successful dish!)
Chocolate Brownies (Made from scratch--she used to solicit Betty Crocker!)
Lamb kebabs and Chole were contributed by Indian aunties who know to cook and practice the seemingly lost culinary art.
The event was an interesting mix of casually dressed, middle-aged white folks with crude senses of humor who cracked dirty jokes and drink lite beer (my mom's husband's friends) and sedate, carefully-dressed, Indian doctors who discussed global politics in hushed tones and listened attentively to the former folks extol their jokes whilst sipping wine (my mom's friends). No riots broke out. In fact, the entire 5pm-1am event passed without so much as an argument.
The lead singer of the Rascals was in attedance with his wife--also a musician--which made for great stories of tours from yesteryear.
In typical fashion, my mom did an excellent job of attending HER event. My old roomie used to pull this scheme: invite a bunch of people over to our place, offer them a great many treats in advance, and then spend the duration of the party as a guest at said event munching on food and drink while mingling at will having not helped in the preparation or serving of above. It's one of my biggest pet peeves.
My notion of hosting involves elaborate preparation of dishes and drinks ahead of time, presenting them in an artistic manner during the event, and constant surveillance of guest plates and glasses to ensure that they are filled. Not to say I don't mingle but whilst meeting and greeting I perform the dual role of observing and serving.
My mom did clean up after the party--I craftily fell asleep before midnight--with much help from D'Souza (though he didn't mention it, I KNOW he was hugely helpful per usual).
Now, the thing about D'Souza is that he loves the lake. Maybe it's the Indian Navy ex-cadet within or the fisherman roots imbued in Goans, but the fact remains: the man is a water baby. He loves boats and he loves bodies of water. In fact, he is adept in commandeering vessels on bodies of water. Water falling from the sky won't keep him on dry land. He will attach the battery to the motor and row his way to open water. Removing credence from the saying, "No man is an island unto himself!" After all, when he is in that boat that's exactly what he is.
I digress.
On Saturday, my mother had a little party for her friends. About 20 folks her age showed up and I was enlisted to cook for this event. Mind you, I've spent the majority of my years living solo using my oven for storage; however, since meeting D'Souza and establishing a system of domesticity I've been cooking. Well, perhaps preparing meals is a better description of what I really do.
The menu for the party was as follows:
Okra Kathi Rolls
Chicken Satay with Peanut sauce
Paneer Tikka
Cucumber Sandwiches
Mom's handiwork:
Samosas (Fresh out of the oven, defrosted just as I recall growing up.)
Tandoori Chicken (Her single most successful dish!)
Chocolate Brownies (Made from scratch--she used to solicit Betty Crocker!)
Lamb kebabs and Chole were contributed by Indian aunties who know to cook and practice the seemingly lost culinary art.
The event was an interesting mix of casually dressed, middle-aged white folks with crude senses of humor who cracked dirty jokes and drink lite beer (my mom's husband's friends) and sedate, carefully-dressed, Indian doctors who discussed global politics in hushed tones and listened attentively to the former folks extol their jokes whilst sipping wine (my mom's friends). No riots broke out. In fact, the entire 5pm-1am event passed without so much as an argument.
The lead singer of the Rascals was in attedance with his wife--also a musician--which made for great stories of tours from yesteryear.
In typical fashion, my mom did an excellent job of attending HER event. My old roomie used to pull this scheme: invite a bunch of people over to our place, offer them a great many treats in advance, and then spend the duration of the party as a guest at said event munching on food and drink while mingling at will having not helped in the preparation or serving of above. It's one of my biggest pet peeves.
My notion of hosting involves elaborate preparation of dishes and drinks ahead of time, presenting them in an artistic manner during the event, and constant surveillance of guest plates and glasses to ensure that they are filled. Not to say I don't mingle but whilst meeting and greeting I perform the dual role of observing and serving.
My mom did clean up after the party--I craftily fell asleep before midnight--with much help from D'Souza (though he didn't mention it, I KNOW he was hugely helpful per usual).
August 14, 2007
August 5, 2007
D'souza's repsonse to Lars
Lars,
For what its worth I am sorry I even contemplated such an inhumane act. I underestimated your communication skills and technological prowess as is evident by your ability to send email and construct sentences.
It's a wonder what 79 cents at PETCO can get you. I always thought I was hearing the words ''r-i-c-e p-a-d-d-i-e-s" since we got you but assumed it was Sweet's stomach craving rice. This email has made it all clear.
To make it up to you, I'll throw you a party over the weekend. You can have all the rice you want. If you need variety in your rice or anything else like having a memorial service for Sukino, feel free to drop me an email.
As for your arch nemisis Shinto, rest assured that once I get him this weekend, I'll make sure Luckey & he have some quality time together.
Peace,
D'Souza
For what its worth I am sorry I even contemplated such an inhumane act. I underestimated your communication skills and technological prowess as is evident by your ability to send email and construct sentences.
It's a wonder what 79 cents at PETCO can get you. I always thought I was hearing the words ''r-i-c-e p-a-d-d-i-e-s" since we got you but assumed it was Sweet's stomach craving rice. This email has made it all clear.
To make it up to you, I'll throw you a party over the weekend. You can have all the rice you want. If you need variety in your rice or anything else like having a memorial service for Sukino, feel free to drop me an email.
As for your arch nemisis Shinto, rest assured that once I get him this weekend, I'll make sure Luckey & he have some quality time together.
Peace,
D'Souza
D'Souzas
D'souzas little sister is starting her MBA at Cornell. We dropped her off and set her up for school....here's the cutest family shot! Isn't she adorable
August 1, 2007
BABY kicked off Plane--YAY!
PLANE BABIES BOO
I found the above article highly distressing.
I am all for babies and their caregivers having their own section on planes and being asked to deplane for causing a ruckus. After all, who hasn't been stuck near a howling baby on a long flight and hated every moment of it--who can sleep through THAT. EEK! Unless it's YOUR CRYING BABY (even then I think you only put up with it because you can't abandon it without a nanny/grandparent/other parent taking it on for the journey) it is beyond me who would want to be sitting next to IT vs. an ADULT--who would never cry at an ear-splitting volume. If so, they would and SHOULD be asked to leave as well.
YIKES!
I found the above article highly distressing.
I am all for babies and their caregivers having their own section on planes and being asked to deplane for causing a ruckus. After all, who hasn't been stuck near a howling baby on a long flight and hated every moment of it--who can sleep through THAT. EEK! Unless it's YOUR CRYING BABY (even then I think you only put up with it because you can't abandon it without a nanny/grandparent/other parent taking it on for the journey) it is beyond me who would want to be sitting next to IT vs. an ADULT--who would never cry at an ear-splitting volume. If so, they would and SHOULD be asked to leave as well.
YIKES!
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