Blog, Blah, Blah

I miss these hilarious discoveries.

AS, my favorite Greenpointer, found this gem.

From the little I can remember (and from what the cops said) last night was quite the party.

Photos here.

An enormous thanks to JS, MB, FB and DC for the music, ED for grill-mastering, AS for numerous party-making errands, SZ for being the surprise guest, and AE for so many great years in this apartment.

Of course, thanks to everyone who came. I couldn’t ask for more incredible, thoughtful, full-of-life friends. I am one lucky girl.

The best orange juice I’ve ever tasted is served in Greenpoint. It’s true.

You can read about it on Eating Everywhere.

Had I known about the Hunter’s Stew at Karczma, I might not have relinquished my apartment.

Family dinner with my dears of 111 included a toast with Bison Grass vodka (holla!).

It carried us over to the new scene at Veronica People’s Club - which, despite the hype, is not a reason to stay in Greenpoint.

A few more photos here. Including the chest-bump.

Monday night was rather magical. The moon, a nice sunset surprise.

First taste of home-grown vegetables. Cucumbers from 94 Diamond. Fucking delicious. And we grew it!

Yesterday I had my first Vespa driving lesson.

On the waterfront of my dead end street, the owner of Milk and Roses, the cafe that I’ve recently turned into my own private freelancing office, patiently circled the abandoned block with me, calming instructing and demonstrating turns in a heavy Italian accent.

“Give gas, let go, brake, turn, give gas, go.”

Parked near us was an EMT having lunch in her ambulance, convenient should I drive us into the river.

I finally caught on, relaxing and laughing, going faster and faster.

Along the shore, several old Polish ladies sat on rocks in their house dresses, watching our lesson, likely thinking about their youth.