Boom Boom

Sometimes, I experience very “New York” moments.  They’re just crazy, weird, or totally random moments.  Things that would and could only happen here.  

A girlfriend and I went to the Boom Boom Room, a bar in The Standard Hotel on the 18^th floor in the Meatpacking District.  I know, I know.  What a name.

The coolest thing about the place was that the walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, so the view of Manhattan was incredible.  Even the bathroom walls were glass!  Thankfully, the bathroom was high enough up that no one got an unwanted eyeful of… well, you know.  But, I couldn’t help wonder about the few weirdoes out there with binoculars and easy access to You Tube.  Oh well, too late now.

I snapped a picture of the view from the bathroom with my iPhone.  Only in New York City could you sip a $20 (yes, you read that correctly) martini and enjoy that view.  Very New York.

* Someone informed me, after our visit to the Boom Boom Room, that supposedly women from Russia like to frequent the Boom Boom Room because they find “rich” husbands there.  I can only imagine how many times we were mistaken for being on the prowl. Grrr.

We Heart Italians

My great aunt had never met Ben.  She and my great uncle were unable to travel to our wedding because of their age and health.  So, our visit to Texas was Ben's big unveiling.

Last Saturday morning, around 9:30am, we rang the doorbell at her house.  My great aunt shuffled to the door and warmly invited us in her home.

She and my parents exchanged hugs.  Then I hugged her and introduced Ben.  The top of her white hair barely brushed his shoulder.  She stepped back slowly to look him over.

"You know..." She said, with wink in her eye and a deadpan look on her face, "I've always had a thing for Italians."

Please, God, let me be that awesome when I'm 90 years old.

More Room

Ben and I stayed in a hotel the first night we got to Texas.  Our plane landed really late, and we didn't want to show up at my great aunt's house in the wee hours of the morning.  So, we schlepped over to the Red Roof Inn around 1:30 in the morning.

Our love for Texas grew tremendously when we opened the door to our hotel room and saw TWO full size beds.  In NYC, we share one full size bed.  A pretty tight squeeze at times.

Imagine our joy!  We immediately sensed a good night's sleep was upon us.  Our excitement continued to grow.

I threw my bag down and leapt into one bed while Ben dove onto the other.  We giggled and kicked the covers into the air.  Our own beds!  It was a dream come true.

There was so much room, so many beds.  Ah, we loved it.

Don't get me wrong.  I love to sleep in the same bed with my husband and vice versa.  But, when the opportunity to sleep uninhibited comes around - stretch out, sleep diagonal, lay like a starfish, and roll up in the covers like a burrito - we're gonna take it.

Differences

Ben and I went to Texas this past weekend to visit friends and family.  On Thursday night, I carefully packed my duffel bag so that my morning would be as stress free as possible.  Smart, I thought.

Except, Ben didn’t think the morning through like me.

I woke up before my alarm to ensure that I had extra time for any last minute adjustments to my bag.  I roused Ben pretty early because I had noticed that his half-empty bag was still sitting in the middle of the room.  He shrugged me off.

While Ben slept late, I prepped the apartment for our vacation.  I bagged the trash and put the dishes away.  I heard Ben’s alarm go off as I shoved loose food into the fridge.  About two seconds later, I heard the panicked patter of feet running across the hardwood floor.

From there I was basically…

Kicked out of the bathroom for 15 minutes.  Run over at least twice in his frenzy to pack clothes.  And, then forced to pack some of his stuff in my bag.

While frantically throwing things and running around, Ben managed to yell every few minutes, “Where’s a plastic bag for my toiletries?  Where are clean socks?  Do I need a razor to shave?  Heeeeeeeeelp me!” 

Because, that was exactly how I planned to spend my extra few minutes.   

But, I kept my mouth shut.  Didn’t say anything, even though I wanted to.  Wanted to say something like… “Shouldn’t you have taken care of this last night?” 

But, I didn’t. 

Instead, I was very, oh-so helpful.  I was such a good wife, such a good wife.  I let Ben run out of the door that morning… and then wrote this blog post for my revenge!

Birthday Party

Several weekends ago, we celebrated the birthday of our friends' son. He turned one... meaning he celebrated b-i-g.  I totally caught him pounding a bottle of baby formula and partying past nap time.  

Other tiny revelers in attendance also enjoyed the nice weather, good food, and company that Central Park offered on his special day.