The ending of an era...

Or Restaurant Week, Summer 2011

Yet again, this post is for Maxwell.

I actually plan on posting something quite a bit more serious later because I've been feeling...well let's just hold off on the "feelings" until later. As for right now, I'm starving and wanted to throw a little more food porn out there.

As I might've mentioned before, it was incredibly hot this weekend. In fact, NYC got graced with one hell of a heat wave, but I refused to let this heat interfere with my lunch. After futzing with my hours at work, I decided that I could go for a two hour lunch on Friday with the Mexican. I had wanted to go to this place on Tuesday, but it was too late in the evening, packed, and I wasn't dressed classy enough. Again, Bermuda shorts cannot be considered formal here in this country (which is a crying shame!).

I made reservations to go to the Post House at 3:30pm (because they told me any later, and it wouldn't be considered lunch). I left work and walked through 115 degree heat and humidity the 15 or so blocks to the restaurant. I was actually not doing too horribly. Breathing was a little tough, but I was determined to survive...and east steak. I knew exactly what I wanted when I got there.

God I don't like this kid.

The Mexican showed up a few minutes after me, and he looked like he was going to die. Even though we had a conversation about this place being classy, he wore a tshirt because he was getting a hair cute (side note: he was rocking the Bieber that morning because he didn't have any product in his hair. It was one of the funniest, most heinous things I have seen in a while. We also got into a fight over the pictures that were taken on whatever that Mac photo program is because there were two pictures that he randomly took where I looked like a horrific mess and he wouldn't delete them. I laughed so hard I cried as I literally wrestled him for control of the mouse to try and delete these pictures. The pictures got deleted, but not before I looked retarded because I have NO IDEA how to work Macs anymore. I totally forgot about dragging stuff to the trash. Seriously, half hour of my life wasted - but I digress.) Anyway, he kept repeating that they weren't going to let him into the classy establishment, but I went in first and they were taking us to our table before they noticed what he was wearing.

The waiter was kind of a dick at first. I think they all kind of are when you go to places like that and don't order booze. Honestly, if he had been nicer, I might've been convinced to get a glass of outrageously overpriced wine, but fuck that. I will not give myself a reason to bump up his tip when he's being an ass. Fail!

The Mexican and I ordered almost the same thing. In all honesty, I think next Restaurant Week I want to go with more people who want to try different things on the menu so that we can taste more things. However, the main course was so amazing, that we're planning on doing monthly lunches there to have another portion.

So here's the meal Maxwell. Eat your heart out.

Steamed cockles and pea shoots in this AMAZING garlicky sauce that we sopped up with delicious bread

Filet Mignon with Pomme Puree

Perfectly on the rare side of medium rare

Fruit Crisp with homemade vanilla bean ice cream

The Mexican overwhelmed by his THREE scoops of homemade raspberry sorbet. We were upset they didn't give him the option of having one scoop of all three of the sorbet options - next time

Continuing with the food theme. Last night I went out to meet the Mexican in Astoria (where he lives) to eat at the place that we've dubbed "ours" because we stumbled upon it one night and it was magnificent.

We shared this amazing roasted beet, arugula, candied walnut and goat cheese salad (which we got last time), these crab cakes that didn't taste greasy AT ALL and were flaky, moist and wonderful. We then shared a rack of lamb. Two pieces for each of us, over a tzatiki sauce with roasted potatoes and some of the best string beans I've had in my life.

I have now sufficiently made myself very hungry.

Let me quickly tell you about my Friday night though.

So backtracking to just after the Post House for amazing lunch, I convinced the Mexican to walk back to the office. We were there for almost 45 minutes before we met up with some coworkers before heading to the Stumble Inn for one of their going away parties. At first I wasn't drinking because I didn't know how much longer I would be staying and because it was so incredibly hot outside it was gross. I finally got a drink around 6:45pm and the Mexican left just before 7:30. This made me sad panda, but I decided to stick around. 

One of my future fellows bought us shots, as did another of my coworkers. I bought two pitchers of hard cider, so I always had a cup full and was ready to play pong (technically beirut, because there are no paddles). Anyway, I started getting way more social (as is what happens when I drink alcoholic beverages). My future fellow and I were exchanging information that we shouldn't have been talking about, and we were shit talking some people and random stuff.

Liquid courage took over and we signed up for pong. I was not nice to the shorter guy that we played against. I kept telling the taller one that I liked him and that the little one was mean. We lost and then they lost to this guy who was playing by himself. BIG OL' DOUCHENOZZLE. He wanted to put money on the game and one of the people who was with our group, my new partner, agreed. I think it's an advantage to be playing by yourself. We lost, obviously.

I returned to the table that we had sniper-ed out from under other patrons. I went towards the bathroom and was stopped by these two gentleman. One was about my height, maybe a little taller, with STUNNING blue eyes and basically the all around cocky asshole vibe. (This was shortly thereafter confirmed). The other was a very tall blond boy with very thin lips and not a smile to be found. He kind of looked like the shorter one's midwestern (confirmed as well) bodyguard, but he was slim and not very menacing. More creepy. I made him laugh later in the evening though. Aww Montana boys.

The short one (the only real talker), told me that he wanted to play my partner and I in pong. I said sure, and I called him an Aussie, because that's what his accent sounded like from the first sentence. Slightly offended, because I bruised his BRITISH ego, he continued on with the conversation saying something or other that I wasn't listening to. Something happened and I told him he should buy me a shot. He offered me a shot and I said vodka, and he said he was only offering a tequila shot, and I walked away.

I'm so cool when I drink it's not even funny. At this point I had already told Feather to meet me at the bar, so she showed up. We were drinking more and I spoke to the Brit and the tall one again, but I think some girl got pissed at me because she wanted a piece of the Brit. I chuckled and let her have at it.

We lost another game of pong and then Feather and I left.

It was so hot outside. I don't remember the train at all. Getting there (oh wait, I might remember waiting for the 6 train) but I don't have memory again until we got off the train and were in Union Square trying to figure out where to go.

We decided on Bar 13, (I've only been there once before and just wait until I tell you the story. keywords, blood, sex, booze, car, crime scene, voyeurism, AWKWARD) and after trying to sneak our way in, I paid the $20 for Feather and I to go in because I was drunk and thought we would find refuge from the heat inside (WRONG)

We made our way to the back of the club and were dancing, but it was so hot and my bag was sticking to my skin. It was still fun though, but drunken KG doesn't know how to stay out of issues that aren't hers. So some girl wasn't getting out of this guy's VIP section that we were basically standing in, and had security come over. They got into a fight and she must've swung at him, because next thing I know he's choking her out and smacking a bitch up. I was trying to pull him off (mind you, he's at least 6'5", 250 and has a hard cast on his wrist - like the type that could kill someone). He flips out and tells me to get off of him, Feather pulls me off because it's none of my business and they escort the lady out. I honestly just didn't want the security guy to get in trouble because he could've fucked this girl up and she could've probably pressed charges. I talked to the security guy later and explained what I was doing. He said he could take care of himself. OKEY DOKEY BIG MAN.

We made friends with the bouncers and then we skeedaddled. It was too fucking hot and some guy spilt his drink all down my back. It was TIME TO GO.

We went to the train and parted ways. I almost vomited/passed out in the train station from being so hot and drunk and having no water (actually I did have water but I didn't drink any) and the train took forever.

I ended up at home safe and sound though, and didn't leave my house until Sunday.

Stay tuned for feelings...and Bar 13 memory.

I'm melting...

And no this isn't a reference to the wicked witch of the west, which I might very well be. (although I'm on the east, but there's no house on top of me and I don't think I've ever "brought down the house" either. I think you need to know how to play an instrument for this...but I digress.)

Anyway, I'm melting because "God" has decided to SMITE New York City (and perhaps the rest of the north east). We are being punished. There is no better reason for this god forsaken heat wave then just that (global warming didn't make the reasonable explanation cut). 

According to weather.com (or as the Mexican calls it "liesabouttheweather.com"), it is currently 95 degrees and feels like 106. No big deal. It's 11am. Not a problem that it is so sweltering (humidity included) that you can literally cook an egg on the sidewalk (and I might try later). If I wanted to sweat this badly and be this miserable in the heat, at the very least I could be on a tropical island (Jamaica?)

CURRENTLY....DYING.

I had to walk 4 blocks or so this morning and in that time, I saw a half dozen people on the verge of death. I'm not a big sweater (not even one of gramma's old jumpers - although I never saw my gma wear many sweaters) but I have a tendency to use anti-perspirant EVERYWHERE. I would probably bathe in it if I could, coat myself in a fine layer of anti-sweat. Unfortunately, my masseuse wiped off my lower back deodorant this morning during my massage, so now I feel like my back is going to ooze sweat out of all of its pores and make me uncomfortable, sticky and all around gross. I've seen a bunch of heinous looking wetbacks today and yesterday (pun intended).

Usually, Fridays would be the day where I update about my miserable hangover and the fun I had at Honey, but everyone refused to go because of the heat.

So what did I do? I went to David Burke's Townhouse. I thought about going to this place across the street, but they didn't use OpenTable for Reservations, and I didn't feel like calling on the phone.

At DB, they have a prix fixe menu. Unfortunately, the things that I saw on the restaurant week menu were on the "dinner" prix fix menu, costing me $37 as opposed to $24.07. I wrestled with the idea of going with some other meal than the one I had planned in my head, but I had heard rave reviews about this crab cake, so I figured, go an inch go a mile and I ordered off the more expensive menu. I was not disappointed, but I might still be full from the meal. It was definitely not a hot summer day meal, but that's when I had it.

Oh and for Maxwell's viewing pleasure (and maybe the rest of you too), I took pictures.

This is how the butter came, in a twirl on a block of pink salt and a few pink salt sprinkles. The bread was hot and crispy and divine.

Pretzel encrusted crab cake with tomato orange chutney and poppy seed honey - I cut it open to show the inside, but you can't really see it.

Braised short rib over handmade cavatelli with wild mushrooms and truffle cream sauce and mushroom chips. SO heavy, but amazing and I didn't even have to use my knife for the short rib

One of the best chocolate mousses I've EVER had, and those big balls are sour cherries and the little ones are little nestle crunch balls. I was so full and yet I stuffed it in anyway.

After indulging, I went home and I laid in bed and watched TV for the rest of the night until I passed out just before 11pm in my air conditioned heaven. My mom is still in the hospital and supposed to get an exploratory surgery today. Hope it goes well!

I'm going to my last restaurant week restaurant later today with the Mexican. We're going to have Filet Mignon and I'm sure it will be phenomenal. We also have a going away party at a bar later today, and we might end up sweating to death with all of the walking that we will supposedly be doing. It's going to be rough.

Oh, on a side note - I'm a very regular person. Pretty much everything in my life is routine and predictable, but I'm currently late, and this freaks me out. Stay tuned.  

UPDATE: NOT PREG!

Get FIT (Food, Injuries and Traveling)

My favorite store called me yesterday to say I had a $40 coupon to use before next Wednesday, so what did I do? I went shopping after work. I bought 5 shirts that I didn't need for a grand total of $49, which is typically what some of their shirts cost by themselves. I'm pretty excited about this. I also might be returning one of the shirts because I realized when I got home that I already have that shirt - it was the only full price item that I bought (so basically I will have spent $10 on 4 quality shirts - that I might not need, but love anyway). 

After treating myself to my shopping indulgence, the night just got better. 

I'm pretty sure by this point you have deduced that I love food. I've really been trying to eat as much delicious food as I can in the past two weeks. Yesterday was no different. Not only did I take myself to classy lunch, but I also went to classy dinner (this next section is for you Maxwell)

Some of the foods that I crave, not all the time, but often, are grilled octopus, red meat cooked on the rare side of medium rare, and rice pudding (usually with a touch of cardamom). So, when perusing the restaurant week menus of the places on the Upper East Side by my job, I was pleasantly surprised to see Persephone on the list. It's a restaurant I knew nothing about, but walked past 2-3 times a week on my way to the train from my gym. Guess what was on their menu.

Yup, my perfect craving indulging meal. After trying to go to two other restaurants in the area and realizing they were way too classy for my bermuda shorts and no reservation, I found myself at Persephone, and I was not disappointed AT ALL. The maitre'd was wonderful. I wanted to have a quick meal, and it worked out perfectly because she said she could seat me, but the table had a prior reservation in an hour. NO problem. I could get out of there in less than an hour and not feel like I was eating too fast to be classy - because they needed the table. It was like the planets aligned.

They had wonderful EVOO on the table for me to eat my delicious crusty bread with before starting my meal. They had a special of suckling pig, that had it not been restaurant week, I would've jumped all over. However, my intense craving for red meat helped me to stick with the prix fixe and I was not disappointed.

The grilled octopus was probably the best I've ever had. It was the perfect texture, soft with a little bit of tension but not chewy. My teeth just cut through it, not quite like butter - but maybe a well refrigerator stick of butter (although I've never done this before). The citrusy sauce was perfect and yet still creamy and smooth. The suction cups added texture because they were a little crispier from the grill. I was in HEAVEN.

I wish this picture could better convey the delicousness

For the main meal I was a little worried, because as some know, skirt steak can be a little touch and go. Typically found more in Mexican food, it is often overcooked and I definitely prefer rare to well done. When it came, the israeli couscous made me happy and made me think of my mom. the spring vegetables were chunked, cooked but not mushy, they still had a crisp to them. I love texture! So the couscous was soft and the vegetables added crunch. I was pleased and then I tried the skirt steak. They had actually rolled different pieces of steak and so I got to unroll them and see how perfectly purple/pink they were on the inside. It was brilliant. Add some grilled onion and a delicious sauce and life couldn't get better. I couldn't get a good picture because the restaurant had romantic low lighting and it didn't feel right to have my flash go off, but trust me, it looked simply divine.

Please note that those are indeed yellow grape tomatoes - one of my weaknesses

I was stuffed, but my rice pudding came anyway and it was another textural revelation. The rice was not overcooked and mushy, and still provided some sustenance while the pudding was creamy and perfect.

It was an incredible meal to end the night.

I got home and I talked to my dad for a cool 20 minutes, which always makes me happy. I love talking to him and I think that it's a good thing that I provide him with someone who understands how crazy my mother can be. In fact, at one point I felt a tiny twinge in my heart for him because he's almost at his wits end with her. I feel like this happens every summer, and then it's magnified by the fact that she's not been feeling well (I will touch on shortly).

I'm very much like her, or maybe she's very much like me. When she gets bored and doesn't feel useful, she turns into a crazy bitch. Not that she isn't that way a lot of the time, but as a teacher, when she has off during the summer, she has all of these grandiose plans but ends up spending all of her time watching tv on the couch. This makes her feel like shit, and in turn, she makes my dad and I feel the same way.

My dad never had to take solo car rides with her much before. I was usually the buffer, and not that I provide any real kind of buffering, but my mom would rather direct her anger towards me than my dad. Also, I sometimes provide her with a reason for this. Anyway, they've been driving together a lot more lately and he finally understands what I went through for 12 years being trapped in a moving vehicle with her every morning for at least 20 minutes. I told him how I used to look out the window as we drove through the park for the perfect patch of grass to jump out of the moving car onto, so as to hurt myself the least. More than a half dozen times in high school I opened the door of the moving car to fling myself out. He FINALLY understands, and I'm glad I can be there to commiserate with him. He's such a nice guy, I hope my mom doesn't fuck it up. Anyway...

I think my dad is going to get a dog soon - probably hypoallergenic - so that my mom can have something to entertain her that loves her and doesn't yell back and he can have a retreat. I think it would be cute to see him biking with the dog running alongside.


There's one problem with this though. We tend to end up with pets with shit health, and in the past year or so, collectively with my parents, we have been in the hospital 2-3 times a piece at minimum. I've been three times (ER twice - I took this guy I knew there once during the christmas snowstorm just a week after I busted my knee), I believe that today is my mother's second stay, but her first one was way longer (both admitted through the ER). My dad had one hospital STAY, but he was there at least a half dozen other times for tests and when he popped his calf muscle. Pretty much, this past year has not been good for us, but has been great for the hospital business! I blame working at a hospital.

In 2008-2009, I was in the hospital once, my mother once and my dog about a half dozen times.

Basically we're tired of hospitals, pet or otherwise - thus a new animal with unforeseen issues might be tough. And as I mentioned before, my parents are at the hospital right now. My mom's stomach is not doing so hot. I'll update you later on why that is, other than the fact that she's an idiot that can't take care of herself and after being fat for so long, she kind of takes pride in not being able to eat very much (even if it's not healthy).

While my parents are in the hospital, I was enjoying a nice sushi lunch of sashimi salad (with tuna, white tuna, salmon, mango and kiwis), a white tuna roll, a shrimp tempura roll and some green tea ice cream with my favorite Mexican.

I inadvertently touched this girl's butt on the train this morning because it was so packed and immediately I started hearing the typical train announcement in my head talking about a packed train is still no excuse to touch people inappropriately. The Mexican told me a story about a gafasian (guh-fay-zhun) on the train this morning. Basically a gay fat asian guy with frosted "highlights" and a too tight shirt literally stood 3 inches from the Mexican on the train and their bellies touched. The Mexican wanted him to and I quote "trip when they got off the train and get AIDS and then fall into the tracks". He was not pleased. I laughed hysterically and considering we had both inhaled our lunches, my stomach hurt.

I have a meeting in less than a half hour and I plan on spending the rest of the afternoon on the phone with ITS, again. Gotta love it, eh?

Lastly, I hate planning vacations. Something's always a mess. I'm a little sad because I could've gone to Philly to see T with B the first weekend in August, because B's plans got canceled (and she never has a free weekend), but I already told Ni that I would go with her to this "crab fest" thing in Gettysburg, PA (WHICH I DID NOT REALIZE WAS A 5 HOUR BUS RIDE EACH DIRECTION) and I already paid for it - so it doesn't make sense to bail. I need to suck it up, but planning an alternate trip to Philly is going to be tough.

I was talking to Mo about going on a road trip to the south this fall, but we figured September would be best - and part of the originally road trip was for me to get to Chicago via Detroit to see B, but B won't be there until October.

Basically, we're postponing said roadtrip and planning a two week European extravaganza - stay tuned.

Did I mention that I hate planning vacations? Honestly, I'd rather someone just tell me when and where and then I just have to book the tickets. All of this searching for the best price shit is terrible. I also have to somehow tell my bosses I'm planning on taking off a lot of time this fall. With my impending surgery and vacations, I don't know how I'm going to manage to get a paycheck. I just want to take September off.

I'm also supposed to go to Texas with B and her family over Thanksgiving, but now I don't even know if she's going.

I realize I only have middle class problems and I should stop complaining, but WHATEVER.

P.S. I promise to be funnier in the future. I realize when I RANT, I'm hilarious. When I talk about my day - not so much.

I normally don't post twice in a day, but...

I went to lunch again today for what I thought would be another restaurant week meal. I ended up getting in an argument with the manager because the website lied. They had a prix fixe menu, but they didn't have the food I actually really wanted. I stayed anyway though, because I couldn't make any other choices. I ended up with a carpaccio salad situation, some goat cheese ravioli and tiramisu. Everyone was great, except for that damn manager.

The reason I really am posting though is because my best friend is being relocated to Detroit in October. I'm pretty much pissed. It was bad enough with her in Baltimore for 6 months, but DETROIT? At least it's within driving distance of Chicago I suppose. So much for having a future roommate if I ever decide to move out of my parent's house.

I'm pretty bummed.

At least I have until October...

Restaurant week and stifling heat

Written on Tuesday: 

I currently look like a little boy and his grandpa, all at once.

I don't know what made me wear these brown plaid bermuda shorts today (and having been to Bermuda a mere month ago, I can attest first hand that these are, in fact, considered formal wear - I'm not wearing the high socks though, so maybe it doesn't count). I really don't like plaid, but I wanted to be casual - hence looking like a little boy. Also, I'm wearing a 4 sizes too big thick brown cable knit sweater - hence looking like his grandpa. Sometimes I really wonder about myself.

Oh and here's another fun fact about shorts. Since it's summer and hot as balls outside, I wear them. This does not mean that you should stare at the heinous scar on my left knee. Seriously, if you're going to stare that hard, please just ask. Also, making offhanded comments about how bad of a scar it is, isn't really the nicest thing in the world to do. I will tell you what happened if you want. I will even login to my facebook and show you the pictures. Or I will lie to you and tell you that I was bitten by a small shark on a trip to the tropics at the end of last year. And somehow I managed to get away without it biting through my leg, just kind of sinking its teeth in and ripping. I swear you'll love the story, so stop staring and ask. Or, don't stare.

And another thing. I don't like "in between pizza". Either it's gotta be piping hot where my mouth will get burnt, or completely cold. The flavors are different. Don't be in between. Don't be THAT slice, it's just wrong.

Written Wednesday:

After work yesterday the Mexican and I decided to partake in New York City Summer Restaurant Week 2011. We decided on The Water Club. Might've been one of the best decisions we've ever made.

Every year, there's restaurant week and I always miss it. For one reason or another I cannot get someone to go with me and spend $24.07 for lunch or $35 for dinner - prix fixe, at these magnificent restaurants that would normally cost WAY more than what the prix fixe is. This year, I was/am determined to go to as many restaurant week meals as I possibly can.

From 2-5pm yesterday I had Customer Service training. It was pretty stupid, but I also developed a tiny friend crush on the instructor. I wanted him to be my new best friend. In all honesty, I still do. If he were a bit taller, I might have a legit crush on him. He's just an all American boy. Raised in Connecticut, college at Cornell in Ithaca, worked for Nestle in Wisconsin and now works at the same institution as me. Considering I was raised in the Northeast, went to school an hour away from Cornell in Binghamton, and went to Nestle's Chocolate Fest in Wisconsin when I worked there, we have quite a bit in common (we are meant to be besties). However, I don't know how to break the ice with men who are shorter than me. This is a general rule. I'm much better at talking to taller men. Shorter ones, I guess I just feel like I will automatically be talking down to them, so I don't even bother. It's probably a bad thing. Maybe my "vanity" is what keeps me from meeting lots of new people, because I judge. I judge a lot. Sorry, that's the way it works.

Anyway, my vanity is a topic for another day really, but I want to get back to my restaurant week experience.

So at 5pm, the Mexican and I met outside of the building and began our walk towards the bus/restaurant. The Water Club is on the East River between 23rd and 34th street. That's right, 23rd and 34th; big range, eh?

We started to walk down 2nd avenue because we were planning on taking the bus and so we kept walking. It was balls hot out yesterday. Like, uncomfortable, felt like you were melting and couldn't breathe, walking through hot jello type weather. So we're walking along, and there's no bus coming. We must've walked 20 blocks before finally being able to get on the bus. It felt like a lot longer than that. Also, we tried to stop for fro-yo and there was no one at the counter, so after waiting for 5 minutes with no service, we left.

We got off the select bus at 28th street because the place was on 30th. This was a stupid stupid idea, because we walked to the East River, past the Bellevue Psychiatric Hospital, in a really shady neighborhood, just to find out that we had to walk all the way up to 34th street to cross over the FDR to the East River.

The Mexican and I were melting. I'm surprised we weren't just a puddle when we finally got there, but we did arrive.

It was magnificent. High ceilings, even though it was on a boat. One wall was all windows, and we got to look out over the river and watch everyone else. They had fresh home made biscuits and corn bread, two pieces each of which the Mexican and I ingested, rapidly. So fast that after we finished the first piece and the server asked if we would like another, by the time he found the bread man and told him that we wanted another piece, we had already gotten and consumed another from an alternate bread man. It was slightly embarrassing. We were probably the youngest people in there, I mean it was 6pm, but still. There was this young couple there too, but we still don't know why they were at this classy restaurant and what they could've possibly been celebrating. They were ordering off the normal menu where appetizers were at minimum $13, and the salad was a wedge of lettuce with some stuff on it (classy, I guess?).

The server convinced us to order wine, and I magically ordered the best Riesling I have EVER tasted. It was like rainbows and butterflies in delicious alcoholic beverage form.

We couldn't pronounce the name, so I took a picture of it to search for it.

The meal was also just as glorious.

Tuna Tartare (with Roe) in a golden gazpacho with an avocado mousse

Lamb three ways, the rigatoni is stuffed with creamy lamb

Le Piece de Resistance, the Pina Colada Panna Cotta with toasted coconut, mango sauce and assorted fruit.

I was so incredibly full after this meal that it hurt, but it was marvelous.

I went to another restaurant week place today for lunch with my mom and her childhood friend who is visiting from Austria, Le Perigord. The decor was a little old style for me, but the food was quite good. I had a warm fresh pea soup (they both had delicious pate), bay scallops with vegetable risotto (some of the scallops were a touch over cooked, but still delicious), and chocolate mousse with a vanilla creme and berry coulis (heavenly). It was my treat. I actually felt like an adult taking my mom and her friend out to lunch, also it didn't hurt that I took an almost 3 hour lunch. I felt justified because I got to work at 8:15am this morning, which reminds me....

Last night, I fell asleep at 10:30pm. Food coma, plus gym in the morning makes for deep deep sleep, but it was SO hot that I had to turn my AC on at 2am this morning. I really really really hate waking up sticky. It was unfortunate and made it hard to get out of bed at 6am. However, I'm really trying the early rising thing and it's working pretty well. Morning gym Tuesday/Thursday, Chiro Monday/Wednesday/Friday with afternoon gym. It doesn't mean much if I eat the way I do, but shut up.

I will probably put together a more meaningful post tomorrow, because there are some things I've been thinking about lately that I need to get off of my chest, even if I vented to Mo about them earlier.