One Year Anniversary!!

We celebrated our first wedding anniversary yesterday!! I can't believe how quickly this year has passed. It's been a whirlwind--full of constant activity, major life changes, and planning for the future. We basically went straight from wedding planning to our honeymoon in Italy to planning our move back to NY. In one year, we got married, moved across the country, found a new apartment, and we both got new jobs. Now it's October and we're starting to attend open houses. When will things slow down? Strange because for years, not much happened. Then literally everything changed. I guess you really can never predict what life has in store for you.

We took Friday and Monday off for an extended celebration. Four days of fun in Long Island and Queens??? We contemplated going somewhere exotic but since we're currently obsessed with buying a house, we decided to celebrate budget-style. So Friday, we went East Coast wine-tasting. We went to a few wineries on the Northern Coast of Long Island, aptly described as the anti-Hamptons. While there were some very quaint towns and beautiful vineyards, it's definitely not Sonoma or Napa Valley. Maybe it has something to do with the massive King Kullens and box stores littering the highway. And unfortunately, many of the wines we tasted were slightly metallic and underdeveloped.

Saturday we went to Zinc, a small jazz bar in Soho and listened to Bossa Nova style jazz. And then on Sunday, we went to dinner at Lupa, one of my favorite restaurants in the world. We started the meal off with a delicious sampling platter of cured meats-proscuitto, fennel salami, Coppa, headcheese and the most delicious pickled veal tongue. Scrumptious!!! Then we had an unbelievably good bowl of Roman style trippa--tripe stewed with tomatoes and mint and topped with baked bread crumbs and cheese. It was unreal. Chewy and slightly gamey but redolent of cinnamon and spices. We cooked tripe at home once--while it was delicious, there's something to be said about not having to clean it yourself. Not recommended for most folks--plucking hairs out of the lining can really turn your stomach--pun intended.

Next up was coda alla vacinara--oxtails cooked with raisins, celery seed and celery. Also scrumptious. The pastas were a bit of a disappointment. The bavette cacio and pepe was overly salted and lacking in depth. The pork stuffed raviolis were great but a bit overcooked--though I now know why black truffles are ridiculously expensive.

Today, we went to Flushing, Queens. Insane. I've been going to Chinatown in Manhattan my whole life, but this was another world. Just as bustling as Manhattan but way less touristy. I felt like a visitor since most people spoke Mandarin and all of the menus were written in Chinese. We managed to find a few food courts that served awesome regional foods--handmade dumplings stuffed with pork, shrimp and leeks, spicy noodle soup with braised meats and tons of Shanghai specialities. The food courts are definitely authentic and cheap--though only recommended for those with iron stomachs and no cleanliness/sanitary hangups. Don't say I didn't warn you.

To at least seventy more years of love, discovery and good food...

Good Luckly's Unofficial Guide to Being a Less Annoying New Yorker

You may be wondering how I’m qualified to write a guide to anything NY-related when I just moved back three months ago. My qualifications stem from the fact that I was born in Brooklyn and lived here for 26 years--an amount of time that definitely gives me the right to claim New Yorker status.

In addition, ever since my return, I've been plagued by the disconcerting feeling that I’ve never left. The nine years in SF feel like they never happened—they were a happy dream, a protracted vacation. I know that living on the West Coast changed me significantly (I hope) but once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker, for better or worse.

So even though I like to think I’ve mellowed out from my stint in California, the truth is I probably haven’t. All it took was a couple of 95-plus degree days and some subway follies to unleash my desire to open a can of whoop-ass on everyone around me.

With this in mind, I’ve decided to embark upon a little list/guide for fellow New Yorkers to avoid pissing me off. These guidelines are not unreasonable and not hard to remember—in fact, they are rooted in common sense and a little common courtesy—not too much to ask right, people???

1. TAKE UP AS LITTLE SPACE AS POSSIBLE
New York City is populated by more than 8.2 million people. It’s crowded. Don’t add to the overcrowding by taking up more space than necessary. For example, if you’re carrying one of those soon to be outdated oversized purses, carry it close to your person--tucked tightly under your arm, perhaps, or laid flat against the front of your body, ideally. Not only will you protect yourself from pick-pocketers and purse-snatchers, you’ll also avoid pissing me off by banging the bag into my side or having it block the aisle of the train.

2. WALK QUICKLY AND IN A STRAIGHT LINE
If you’re walking on a crowded sidewalk, don’t meander. Now’s not the time to stop and smell the roses. Don’t amble from side to side. And don’t make any sudden movements. There’s probably somebody behind you, trying to pass. If you swerve all of a sudden, you will invariably run right into them, pissing them off.

3. DON'T HOG THE SIDEWALK
This principle is closely related to number one. If you’re walking with someone, walk as close to them as humanly possible. If this person is a new acquaintance then you may allow up to 5 inches of space between the two of you, but that’s it. If you’re in a group (3 people or more), you must split up. Under no circumstances, should you ever walk side by side as a threesome. If you ignore my advice, don’t be surprised when you get “bumped into” by pissed-off pedestrians.

4. KEEP IT ON A SHORT LEASH
If you’re walking a dog, keep that crapper on a short leash. If you’re walking a child, keep that child glued to your leg (see number 2). Otherwise when I’m trying to pass, I may get tangled up in the leash and/or child and get pissed off.

5. STEP ASIDE SISTER
If you see a door, entrance or exit of any kind, don’t block it. Never block a subway door unless you intend to get out at the next stop. If you do, you deserve to be pushed off the train. And no one will come to your aid because they know you deserve it.

6. KEEP IT MOVING
If you happen to find yourself by the control panel in an elevator, wait for the last person to board, press the close button, and then KEEP YOUR FINGER on the button. If you don’t, the doors will wait a few seconds to close--just long enough to allow one incredibly selfish person to “slip” inside, which will inevitably set off the door’s safety sensors allowing an entire crowd of people to bum-rush the doors.

7. BE PREPARED
When approaching a turnstile in the subway, have your metro card out and ready to go. Don’t stand in front of the turnstile, digging in your purse or your wallet, while a pissed-off mob gathers behind you. But be careful not to swipe your card too quickly. The serial number won’t register and you’ll be forced to re-swipe, much to the dismay of an even more pissed-off mob behind you.

8. WEATHER ANY STORM
Inclement weather brings out the worst in people. In addition to releasing impossibly musty odors, rain necessitates umbrellas, the use of which few folks have mastered. Here’s a few rules to live by: When walking on a narrow sidewalk, look at the person coming towards you. Position your umbrella opposite to theirs. If they’re holding it high, hold yours low, and vice versa. If the sidewalk is too crowded with umbrellas, opt for holding it high. You may get a few sprinkles, but it’s better than getting into an umbrella war with a pissed-off person like me.

9. DON'T LEAN ON ME
New York is the city that never sleeps--not a bad thing on a Friday night, not so good on a Friday morning when some fat guy next to you is sound asleep, his head practically on your shoulder. Word to the wise: get your 8 hours of sleep. On a separate but related note, the pole in the middle of the subway is designed for hands. Many of them. If you lean against the pole with your body, where are the rest of us supposed to hold on? The only spaces that are left are the crook of your neck and your waist. So blame yourself if you feel some pissed-off person’s hands invading your personal space.

10. VOID RULES 1-9 IF YOU'RE THE EMPEROR
I break at least one of these rules every day, pissing off everyone around me.

Subway Blues

You know your commute is bad when you actually start to miss San Francisco’s poor excuse of a public transportation system. Despite the scattered routes, frequent delays and unseemly riders—most of whom look and SMELL like they just crawled out of a cardboard box seconds before boarding the train or bus—I never had a commute that normally takes half an hour morph into one that takes four hours. Never. Not once in the nine years I lived in SF.

There’s something about the Big Apple and freak accidents that happen right around rush hour. Last month, a freak steam-pipe explosion took place around 5:30 pm, halting all transportation in and out of Grand Central Station. Today, a freak rainstorm essentially wiped out the entire NY public transportation system. Literally every train was out of service, rerouted or massively delayed.

One of the reasons I chose to live in Brooklyn Heights was because of its proximity to all major train lines. To get to the west side, I can take the A, C, 2 or 3. To get to Broadway or 6th Avenue, I can take the R or F. To get to the East Side, I can take the 4 or 5. All my bases are covered, right? Wrong!!! ALL of these lines were out this morning.

I heard about the delays right around 8:15, usually the time that I leave for work. LUCKLY Howard Stern was on vacation so I was watching Good Morning America instead. Otherwise, I might not have heard about the massive delays until I walked to the train. I waited until 9:45, checking the MTA's web site and torturing Dave with my impatience until he was literally ready to throw me out. We walked 20 minutes in the 95 degree heat to a station I’d never been to before. I was dripping sweat by the time I arrived--and I’m famous for not sweating.

I walked down to the train station only to be greeted by the largest swarming mass of humanity I’ve seen in recent memory. It seemed that every single person in Brooklyn decided to come en masse to this particular station. It's usually oppressive underground at this time of year, but today steam was literally rising off of people’s heads.

Several trains went by and I was unable to board because they were packed to capacity. Finally, after pushing my way onto an N train, I was on my way. The train stopped running at 42nd Street, for no apparent reason, so I had to get out and wait another 15 minutes for an R train making local stops. By the time I got to work, it was almost noon. Sigh.

All of this happened after I saw pictures of my dear friend MJ’s beautiful new home, somewhere in Marin County. The house and the adorable tykes—Finn and Pip—look beautiful, idyllic, hippyish, and old-fashioned, like they’ve traveled to the future from some distant, more peace-loving time. Anyway, it made me miss the laid-back lifestyle of San Fran. Life in NYC can be exhilirating, but man, it freaking blows sometimes.

A-Rod & Ribs

I'm not much of a baseball fan. The only time I really got into the game was when an old man got knocked down (the infamous game when Pedro Martinez knocked Don Zimmer to the ground) and that's just because I always love a good old-fashioned rivalry.

So call me LUCKLY, I guess!! Yesterday we went to my first Yankee's game ever, and of course, 10 minutes after we sit down, A-rod hits his 500th homer. I was with die-hard Yankee's fans (Dave, Evanisko, Amy, and the other 54,000 people in the stadium) so of course, the whole place erupted in thunderous, earth-shattering applause. Even though I don't know the significance of being the youngest person to hit 500 homers (is it really that hard? I think I could do it, maybe...) it was pretty cool being there. Either way, my first Yankee's game was a memorable one indeed. I didn't even read the US Weekly I bought with me in case I got bored.

After the game, we went to Dinosaur's BBQ in Harlem. Gorging on margaritas, ribs, brisket, and pulled pork in 95 degree weather. In other words, an awesome Saturday!!

I Demand a Recount

Thought not quite as life-changing as the Gore-Bush debacle, Joey Chestnut's recent victory over Takeru Kobayashi was disturbing nonetheless.

On July 4th, we decided to take a trip out to Coney Island to see the 92nd Annual Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest. Some naysayers don't see competitive eating as a real sport, but I think the ability to down 66 hot dogs in 12 minutes takes skill, determination, iron will, and heart--key character traits of any top-notch athlete. I also like to consider it a sport because it is one of the few skills that I feel I could excell at given the right training and mentorship. During a camping trip a few years back, it was rumored that I downed 48 oysters in one night. I really can't say if this was true or not because most of the night was a briny blur to me. (Note - Since the competition I learned that Sonya "The Blackwidow" Thomson, all 105 lbs or her, ate 46 DOZEN oysters at the Acme Oyster House in 10 minutes. So I've got a little training to do.)

I've watched competitive eating contests on ESPN many times before but there was something special about being there in person. Surrounded by fellow food fanatics and the slightly metallic smell of sauerkraut and mustard, I felt excited and ALIVE!! I wasn't the only person who felt this way--a middle-aged mom was yelling at the top of her lungs like some hoochie mama at a Prince concert and a short Asian girl shrieked "Kobayashi" at regular, heart-stopping intervals.


The competition itself was short and a bit anticlimactic. We were too far away to see all the details--the most I could gather was Chestnut's head rhythmically bobbing up and down like an apple floating in a bucket of water. Chestnut and Kobayashi were neck and neck...at the end of the 12 minutes, everyone in the audience saw that the two were tied...at 63 hot dogs each. We waited anxiously wondering if the two would have to meet one-on-one for a tie-breaker, though the rumor floating around was that Kobayashi would never make it. During the last remaining seconds, he experienced a rough "reversal", a euphimism if I've ever heard of one, but he wasn't disquailified because he ate said reversal.

Which brings me to the question at the beginning of this post...How could the judges have found THREE additional hot dogs during the recount. It just doesn't add up.

Back to Normal

First off, let me just say that I clearly haven't learned blogging etiquette--which is to say, you can't wait a month between entries!! In all of the hoopla of getting settled on the East Coast, I've completely neglected my commitment to Good Luckly!! So to all my beloved and loyal readers (um, Antonia), I promise to improve and write on a more regular basis.

After a few rocky car issues and three (yes, THREE!!) horrific trips to Ikea, I'm happy to say that things are getting back to normal. Case in point: Dave whipped up a deliciously spicy and chickeny chicken ragu in preparation for the Soprano's finale (more on that later), while I filed and refiled "my papers" and balanced my checkbook. Yep, things are really hopping here in Brooklyn.

But seriously, this past weekend was the first time we felt like normal people again. We went to my niece's 4th birthday party at the Children's Safari in Valley Stream, NY. I think the kids enjoyed themselves, but considering the fact that Momma Hom was hogging the skee ball court, I'm certain she was the one who had the most fun.

I adore my nieces and Dave and I talk about having kids SOMEDAY, but I'm pretty sure I'm not ready for the suburban life. I'm really not trying to be a snob, but I just don't think I can live in a land of strip malls, bad Chinese food, and manicured lawns. Plus, it doesn't help that I can barely drive.

City life can be such a vicious grind: everything is insanely expensive so you have to work harder to make more money so that you can afford to take time off to get away from work and get away from the city. But the energy is contagious and the diversity comforting.

Speaking of work, I love my new boss and I really like my new job, though it's definitely tough being the newbie. It's not easy going from Emperor Hom at Le Crap to the new girl. I can barely find the bathroom, remember anyone's name (much less what their "function" is), and I definitely have no idea what the meeting acronyms stand for (what's the difference between MMM, MCM, and VCR)?

So it's definitely a strange feeling to start from scratch. But in the end, what is life without change? Right now, despite the difficulties, I feel more alive and motivated than ever. I welcome the 90 degree weather and unpredictable downpours; I don't mind the overcrowded trains (that much); and I'm going out much more than I did in San Francisco--just because it's easier to get a cab.

I'm a realist so I know this positive attitude can't last, but until then, I'm going to milk it for as long as I can.

P.S. WHAT ABOUT THE SOPRANOS FINALE???
I loved it! I think it was a brilliant finale and despite the frustration and disappointment of such ambiguity, I firmly believe that any other ending would have felt too predictable or derivative. In the end, I think David Chase stayed true to his vision--that in life there are no finite conclusions just as there is no clear good and evil. Life is messy, unpredictable, exhilarating and boring all at the same time. And in the end, all you really have is Journey. LONG LIVE STEVE PERRY!!!

Welcome to NY

That's what the nice traffic cop said as he handed Dave a ticket.

The good news is that 10 seconds later and he would have towed our car. Just our luck that our first day in Brooklyn would start out that way. Our first night wasn't much better. We left Dave's sister's house in Basking Ridge, New Jersey. Managed to find our way through Jersey, then Manhattan and into Brooklyn without getting lost. Miraculously got into the apartment building after discovering that the previous tenant only sent us one key, instead of three. Then we open the door to our new home.

Dave's first words: "What a fucking shitbox."

A big bag of garbage. Ants. Cigarette butt in the sink. Crap in the fridge. Cables hanging everywhere, bare lightbulbs, and walls in bad need of paint. Welcome to New York.

So when we got the parking ticket, we thought that would be the clincher. The final blow in our little streak of bad luck.

Then this morning, a woman backed into our fender. Despite the fact that Dave was laying on his horn for 5 seconds, she just continued backing her car right into us.

I'm hoping all of this is happening for a reason. A test of our will and ability to stay positive in the face of adversity (so far we're not doing so well with this test). Plus--if you're experiencing a streak of bad luck, things have to get better, right?

Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating. The move hasn't been horrible. Luckily we have tons of family and friends to lean on and hanging out at Dave's sister's house in Basking Ridge has been a nice respite from the craziness of the city.

But really, the past few months have been tough. Dave's knee surgery couldn't have happened at a worse time.

But we're determined to make the best of it. This is a test! And I'll be damned if I don't pass this with flying colors.

So I'll end this entry on a chipper note. Here are some good things:

1. We love Brooklyn!!! After I've bitched and moaned about my hometown for my whole adult life, I'm loving it. There's so many neighborhoods to discover filled with tons of restaurants, bars, boutiques, design stores, and gourmet groceries. (The Middle Eastern food is unreal--we had Yemenite food on our first night).

2. We're joining the Brooklyn Heights CSA so we're going to have a weekly supply of organic fruits and vegetables from a local farm.

2. Family--Sandy and Pete have been amazing to us. Basically housing and feeding us (well) for two weeks. My mom has tested my patience, as usual, but I love her and promise to be nicer to her on Saturday when we go to Chinatown for Mother's Day.

3. Our stuff is arriving tomorrow, and the apartment is growing on us. Once Dave works his creative magic, I know we'll make the place our own.

4. The weather is amazing!! The mugginess is a welcome change for me now though I'm sure I'll be singing a new tune come July.

5. We went out for Shelly's birthday and met tons of nice KARAOKE-LOVING people.

Soooo, our luck's about to change. I just know it. I'm just waiting for those lucky envelopes to arrive from SF.......