Hog Roast

This Memorial Day weekend, we and the rest of my husband's family headed to Kansas to celebrate the wedding of Tara and Andy. Tara is Ben's cousin. She and the rest of the Kansas clan are too fun and, luckily for me, love the camera. The wedding goers spanned everyone from an artist to a farmer to an aerospace engineer to an Italian jewelry designer to an architect to a doctor to a costume designer to a speech therapist. This motley crew led to some very interesting conversations (those of you there know what I mean). What a night!

Here are a few pictures from the "Hog Roast" that followed the rehearsal on Friday night. Pig, baked beans, potato salad, lemonade... yum yum. I could not have wished for a more mouth-watering meal or enjoyable company.

Ads

Have you ever noticed the “ads by Google” on the bottom right side of the blog? Well, me either. Not until this February when my very observant grandpa and Itty Bitty fan brought it up over breakfast.

Some of the ads are… interesting? Perhaps. Relevant? No.

DJ equipment repair shop? Immigration attorneys? NYC chiropractic? I doubt readers of Itty Bitty will click on those ads anytime in the near future.

What is Google thinking? Let me tell you.

Google software scans through posts and selects high frequency words found on the page. Google then selects advertisements that are tagged with the same words. Hence, the ads for “Sweet Caroline” and “X-Dancers” in reference to my Neil Diamond and pole dancing experiences make sense. Even the ad about protein shakes makes sense considering the number of stories written about Ben’s workout routine.

The ads can be pretty funny and entertaining. So, check them out if you think about it. Have a chuckle on me.

Journey to Jersey

Ferry ticket: $8

Gift for baby shower: $15

Mistaking Weehawken for Hoboken, getting off at the wrong ferry stop, and walking 1.5 hours down a highway: Priceless.

Hmm...

On Wednesday, I accompanied two classes on a field trip to the Bronx Zoo. This field trip, like all of the others, proved to be equally as fun. We neared the end of day exhausted, hungry, and surrounded by 14 tiny ones who eagerly scoped out the last exhibit.

One kindergartner asked, “What are these animals called?”

The first teacher, a native of Houston, said “Bison (BYE-SON).”

The second teacher, originally from Jamaica, said “Bison (BEE-SON).”

“Well, speech teacher,” said the first teacher. “What is this animal called in Kentucky?”

“Dinner,” I replied.

Mr. Exterminator

I sit in bed and wait. And wait. And wait.

I wait for the knock at the door and the person who stands on the other side... the exterminator! The man I love most second to Ben in this city. He is due some time before 10 a.m., and could not get here any sooner. For my sanity and because of the millions of roaches that reside in New York City, I want our apartment sprayed today.

He usually comes once a month to our building to kill the scary, scary bugs that haunt my dreams. He sprays the basement and only the apartments of tenants who sign up on a posted sheet. Only we and the Weinbergs ever sign up for extermination in a building of 80+ apartments. We two families stand alone in the fight against the roaches.

He routinely sprays the basement because it contains the trash, recycling, and laundry rooms. The wide cracks on the ceiling and in the walls seem to beckon six-legged intruders, and the lone window that doesn't close basically screams, "Welcome! There's plenty of room at the inn."

The basement is scary. It's dimly lit, consistently damp, and lined with trash cans. Pretty much a roach haven. A roach mecca.

I only venture down when necessary.

I go to throw away the trash and do the laundry, and do either while wearing a full coverage bodysuit to prevent any skin-to-bug contact. According to Homeland Security, my body is always on level four (orange) when in the basement. Any flash of movement puts me on high alert and ready for engagement.

Once, when doing laundry, a cockroach flipped over in front of the dryer I needed to use. Naturally, it had to move, but there was no way MY foot was going to touch it. So, I waited until a nice man came down and had HIM squish and kick it to another spot. No way did I plan to track roach guts into my apartment from the bottom of my rain boot.

No way.

So, I sit and wait for the exterminator. I sit and I wait. Because, there will be NO roaches in my apartment.

Spring Cleaning

There are some things that I just shouldn’t make Ben do, but I can’t help it. It comes with living with a girl. It’s simply part of the territory.

Last night, I tried on all of my jeans and made Ben tell me whether they belonged in the “keep”, “undecided”, or “giveaway” pile. I can’t make decisions like that on my own, and therefore coax him to help.

It’s not like he’s the only one I have ever tortured with this ritual. I did it to Jennifer, my old roommate of five years, and to Katie, another old roommate of two years, and to Erica, a girlfriend often pulled into the process simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This is (partly) what friends are for, right?

But, it’s not all bad for Ben during the quarto-yearly ritual closet cleaning. I let him lie on the bed and play guitar. Sometimes, I even bring him a snack and drink. I can’t have my critic getting light headed or dehydrated. He must be in tiptop form to ensure the best decisions are made.

Yes, yes, yes… I know. Ben IS the best.

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to all moms!

Last night, we visited our friend who just had the most beautiful and perfect baby boy. He is 19 days old in this picture, being held and patted by a very happy new mom.

Week of Stars #2

Jennifer Aniston and Jason Bateman are filming the movie “The Baster” three blocks from our house. I knew something was being filmed, but wasn’t sure what – commercial, movie, TV show. I’ve walked upon many sets over the last couple of months.

I didn’t know what was going on, but only knew that I was getting pretty annoyed. Their RVs and trailers had been blocking the 90th street bus stop for the entire week, making me (gasp) have to walk an extra block to get to the grocery store. Needless to say, when I discovered that it was Jennifer Aniston causing such chaos in my life, I found myself being a little more forgiving.

It’s funny, though. I would have been so excited at the thought of possibly seeing a celebrity in the first few months of living here. Even being escorted off the premises and slapped with a restraining order for stalking. Not as much any more. These disruptions have become slightly frustrating – delaying and disrupting commutes, store accessibility or hours.

Ah, what a cynic I’ve become. It’s Jennifer Aniston for crying out loud!

Week of Stars

This has been the week of celebrities. I have TWO posts this week dedicated to them.

I walked out the door and straight into Jerry Stiller on my way out of work on Saturday.

At first, I did double take and doubted my celebrity spotting abilities. I mean, seriously, Jerry Stiller??? He doesn’t exactly grace the covers of Glamour or InStyle. And, I won’t see pictures of him in the tabloids doing outrageous things.

So, what are the odds that I could point him out on a crowded sidewalk?

Apparently, preeeetty good. Preeeee-tty Preeee-tty good.

Swine Flu Survival

So, I’m still alive.

The infamous “swine flu” has landed in NYC (Queens, technically, but non-New Yorkers don’t know the difference). I still remain healthy and virus free. No weird symptoms here, just weird people wearing face masks and ranting on the news about the fate of the Big Apple.

I didn’t even flinch after reading about it in the paper upon our return from Miami. I just accepted it. Honestly, living here comes with accepting your fate. I know that if anything bad is going to happen, it’s going to happen in New York City. Watch an hour of TV or rent a few movies and you’ll know what I mean.

Last night, a guy in my building told me that a lady wore a breathing mask during his aerobics class on Wednesday night. She didn’t want to catch the swine flu and so risked looking like a maniac to all fellow gym-goers. Apparently, the need to burn some serious carbs still outweighed her fear of the flu.

If I haven’t made it clear, New Yorkers do not mess around.

On the other hand, Ben is clearly not fazed by the potential outbreak. He called on his way home from work and asked if wanted pork chops for dinner because they’re 50% off regular price. He always finds the silver lining.