So, since I pay a small fortune to live in Nuevo York Ciudad, I've decided to try to start going out of my way to find reasons to leave that won't cost me a ton of money, will educate me, and give me things to do and think about.
Yesterday, I went to my friend's apartment who is out of town and worked out in the fancy gym there for about 2 solid hours. I did each muscle machine and walked on the elliptical. I read most of a New Yorker while I ellipsed, and even did a little texting with some friends. I guess that taught me, or more reminded me that I hate working out. It also taught my muscles that they are weak and flabby.
After the work out, I showered, put on a cute dress, then walked from Fort Greene to Long Island City in my seemingly impossible quest to shed 30 pounds this year. *By the way*, I have shed 15, but the other 15 have been very hard to lose. My final destination was The Creek and The Cave's 10 year anniversary and Mindy Tucker's photo exhibit of the last year of comedy in NYC, which about 2/3s of my face has a cameo in.
Today, I went to the Heirloom Tomato Festival which was every bit as awesome as it sounds. Sure, to some it may appear to be something old people would do in between watching their stories and getting ready to die, but that's just not true. Loving good food and seeking it out is smart, not boring, and I rewarded myself by buying lots of yummy fresh tomatoes and then making a caprese salad for dinner.
So take that, nay sayers. There were about a dozen booths of farmers with fresh produce, artisan bread and cheese makers, presentations like "how to can tomatoes" and lots and lots of beautiful, colorful heirloom tomatoes. My mom handed down her love of yummy foods to me, which is why I have a giant, bubblicious Sicilian Italian ass.
After that, I rode my bike over the bridge to Williamsburg Bridge to meet up with my friend Our Lady of Perpetual PMS and her bf at a vintage bike fest on Wythe and 14th that spoke to my inner bad ass bitch. Though I'm more a scooter / moped aficionado, the motorcycles there were pretty awesome looking. I wanted to hop on the back of one, grab onto some antique biker's long grey mane, rip the bottom of my shirt off so my semi-flabby tum tum was exposed and all of a sudden have a tramp stamp on the small of my back that said "Ride or Die" or "Losers Take The Bus", but instead I just snapped a few photogs with me iDingly-doo.
My friends and I decided we were hungry so we went to grab a bite, hoping we'd run into Tina Trachtenburg who I heard sells her homemade tamales on Bedford Street. It was kind of late though, and I didn't expect it to happen, but hello fate, there she was at Bedford and 7th. I ate the shit out of a priceless cactus tamale in a record 13.2 seconds.
I parted ways with my pals around N. 3rd Street, when they decided to walk to our friend's shop, Sanford and Sven's. I was coasting down the Manhattan side of the bridge when she texted me that at Sven's, there was a bbq and lots of our pals were there. I was totally bummed and contemplated going back over the bridge, but was psyched when I got back to my hood to see an art show on Division Street, and to find my friend Audrey Crabtree was involved. I then succumbed to a weird political interview, something I'm not super at voicing my opinions about (I'm better at writing out my thoughts any day), and was wholly inspired by the entire shindig.
Not a bad weekend haul. How is Monday going to try to top that?