Au Revoir

In less than a week, a New York institution that still has packed tables will shutter its doors. It makes me feel so bad that this is the first and last time I will ever eat here. What's worse is, it closes for good on my birthday. I'm really disappointed that Florent's landlord thinks that what the Meat Packing District really needs is more luxury housing/dining/shopping. I say, kick out the designers and bring back the trannies and the leather bars.

New York is slowly but surely losing its edge. To some degree, it still exists in the outer boroughs, but they are bulldozing anything with character there too to put up multi-family McMansions and hair salons. I hate to say it, but it may be time for me to move on to a place that isn't afraid, is proud even, to be a little bit gritty and unpolished.

Turkiye!

Some of you may think it's nuts to pay four-digit prices on a plane fare at the last minute to go to Istanbul for less than a week. I don't care. This had to be one of the best trips I've ever taken. Some people may buy themselves a pair of shoes or earrings as a birthday present to themselves, but I think this has any material object beat. Three days was enough time to march around town and see pretty much everything notable, historic, and fun. The city has a good mix of old world charm, culture, great food, nice scenery, and activity. I wore a headscarf in the Blue Mosque out of respect, and it didn't feel too weird. In fact, I look kinda cute in an innocent, look-but-don't-touch, traditional sorta way. Plus, timing it to see Turkey beat Croatia in the UEFA quarterfinals was priceless. My former manager, who happens to be ex-military, almost ran for cover at the near-riot that broke out in Sultanahmet, but I lapped it up like all the raki I drank.

There was a lot of learning and observing. Nargile is the Turkish word for hookah. Churches and synagogues are crammed between buidlings and fenced in, while mosques sprawl with minarets reaching towards the heavens - very different than how houses of worship, particularly cathedrals, are constructed further west. Next time I go to a meyhane, I will not overdose on cold mezze so I can enjoy the hot fish and seafood. Even in Paris, I learned that I really really REALLY like macarons.

This was the first time I felt a thorough sense of relief and gratitude that I was no longer with J. If I had proposed this trip, he most likely would have initially indicated interest, then later recanted at the last minute, which either would have me resent him for my staying home or feeling guilty for leaving him behind. Instead, I felt free and light and happy, something that has eluded me for a bit, and it gave me a complete sense of being over him. Now my mission is to find someone to join me on one of these spontaneous junkets, among other things. In that arena, I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

Observations on Toronto

This trip was rough hours-wise (I broke my personal record of latest departure time - it is now 5:30am the following day), but not as hard emotionally as previous projects. I did a lot of power walking around the city to relieve stress and saw a good portion of it. As clean and friendly and nice as it is, it reminds me too much of New York, particularly the downtown area. However, I did enjoy the lower height of buildings in the areas surrounding the central business district. It's refreshing to get sunlight in an urban area.

The hot dog stands are better than NYC. Where else can you pick from several different types of encased meat, have it grilled to order, and dress it with umpteen different condiments yourself? Not bad.

My coworker will tell this story until the day I die: we are walking down Queen St W (think East Village St. Marks Pl as it fades from the perky gentrified area near Third Ave into the still-cess pool of Avenue D), I am telling M a story when a busker points at me and screams, "Fuck you!" Without missing a beat, I glare back at him and respond "No, fuck you too!" and continue telling the story without missing a beat. M was a bit shocked and awed at my snappy, forceful comeback.

Nose to the Grindstone

I am in Toronto for the next nine days for work. Which means I am for all intents and purposes falling off the face of the earth for a week and a half.

Last night was an office-wide party. I specifically scheduled my trip to Canada so that I would get to cut the rug with my coworkers. We started a count of the number of times the presenter said 'Click again' since the handheld presentation controller broke. One of my friends knocked my plate of food against my Calvin Klein jacket, started to apologize, and then saw me and said, "Oh it's just you."

Updates on my travels around TO in a few days...

Frat House Part 2

Having never ventured to Fire Island, I thought it would be fun to check it out for the day. My friends D and R went for the weekend, but my initial plan was to take the 1am ferry back. They actually charge double for it, perhaps to discourage all the drunks from boarding.

We went to the Ocean Bay Park part of the island. I knew there was a "gay" part and a family part, but we ended up on the section where people refuse to let go of the good-ol' college days. Don't get me wrong, it was fun, but I feel like I've moved on from raging frat parties, late-night pizza, and passing out in a pool of vomit.

While there, who do I run into but M. I've left out much of my dating adventures to maintain some privacy and mystery, but this is a doozy worth laughing about. Long story short, he was a rebound. We met through a mutual friend who happens to be the greatest wingman ever. Things got very intense and romantic immediately, but then fizzled out just as fast. With the understading that the economy sucks and finance dudes are living paycheck to paycheck, I have no patience for people who do not make any effort to communicate. Fast forward a few months, and I run into him poolside at the Fire Island Hotel. After wishing him happy birthday, my friends and I get dinner and hang with friends. Later on, I see him out at the bars, where he immediately latches onto me like a leech in a swimming hole. Did I mention I'm over making out in the middle of a sticky-floored bar? I try to move to the more romantic, private beach, and then the hemming and hawing starts. "I need to take off my shoes...I need the room key ... where's my friend? The innkeeper is the coolest woman ever!!!" Yawn. I start talking to his friend, another i-banker douchebag who thinks he's the greatest thing to happen to humanity because he moves large quantities of cash (none his own) around. Yaaaaaaaaaaaawn. All of a sudden, M darts out of the bar and takes off down the street. So let me get this straight, boy likes girl. Girl is marginally interested in boy. Girl asks boy to take walk for more fun, and boy runs away. What's wrong with this picture? By the time I leave the bar baffled and amused at the same time, my watch reads 2:30am. F*ck.

My neck is now sore from crashing on D and R's hotel couch for 4 hours and then catching the 7:45am ferry to Bayshore and driving back for brunch at Paradou with my two fab girlfriends. Brunch was awesome tho and well worth the early call. Now to relax for the rest of the weekend

Tervetuloa

Not much to say about Helsinki. It is a safe, quiet, clean, polite, well-organized city, but after traveling through Russia, we were a bit, um, bored. It didn't help that we passed out for most of Sunday from sheer exhaustion, but most museums were closed yesterday. In fact, when we woke up on Sunday, most everything was closed. My aunt recommended two restaurants, and we made it to one of them.

Who knew there is a whole orchestra devoted to balalaika? My mom would love this.

After 10 days of running running running, I am ready to come home.

Moskva!

I can't believe the tour is over already. It seems like it's been such a short time here, too short in fact. Out of all the cities, I think Moscow has been my favorite. Granted it is super-crowded (over 10 million people) and congested (there are now 5 million cars, as opposed to 300,000 about 10 years ago), there is so much vibrance and energy that radiates throughout the whole city. For better or for worse, gangster capitalism has revived the city but has also made it the most expensive city in the world.

Yes it's not as pretty as St. Pete's, and the mix of architecture ranges from gorgeous to "functional". I actually appreciate the variety and the history it records, like rings on a tree. Yes, it takes hours to cross the city. I fell in love the cleanliness and the elegance of the metro, with chandeliers and marble. Standing in the middle of Red Square, where so many have walked before me, was a really phenomenal moment. Though I didn't get to see Lenin, GUM was awesome. Where else can you fast-food Central Asian food?

Off to Helsinki. I am not a fan of Sheremetyevo Airport. We could not check in until an hour and a half before the flight, so we had to sit around waiting amongst the non-deodorized.

What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

The weather in Russia at this time of year is quite interesting. We apparently have experienced phenomenal weather, with the sun actually making an appearance. In the three days we were in "Peter", it has also rained, drizzled, was overcast, and snowed.

Novgorod, which I believe translates to "new city", is ironically the oldest city in Russia. What a depressing place! Ivan the Terrible massacred the people because he thought they were out to get him. I am impressed with one of the major underlying philosophies of the Russian Orthodox Church: bear your cross without complaint. It explains very much how the people here have survived tragedy after tragedy. My goal is to adopt this more into my life, but I'll pass on standing for church services.

We stayed last night at the "best hotel in Novgorod." Admittedly the decor and furnishing were a bit dated, it was clean and comfy. Breakfast was another story. Half the food was gone by the time we got there. The best part was how they translated cream of kasha as "Hercules-gruel." Once you get past the name, it tasted halfway decent.

Looking back, that was opulent compared to the bus ride to Moscow. My cousin and I got on the bus last and had to sit separately. I found a seat next to a nice Singaporean girl who was easy to talk to and very sharing with her snacks. My cousin got stuck next to a large Canadian woman who smelled like salami and kept drinking water (and getting up to use the bus bathroom). My cousin almost had a panic attack at the "best" known rest stop on the highway. Relieving one's self involved breathing through your mouth, not flushing the toilet paper, and bringing your own soap. I almost used the men's room if not for the man taking a sponge bath. (Note: for all you entrepreneurs out there, don't bother trying to create a nicer, more "Western" rest area. If the mafiya doesn't get to you, the government will if you vote the wrong way.) But wait, it gets better! In between snow and horrendous traffic, we were stopped three times by the police. This charade involves the drivers getting off the bus with all paperwork, the police reviewing all the licensing and paperwork for the bus, checking the driver's license, a breathalyzer, and then a request for contribution to the fund for the next meal. We were instructed not to take pictures. It would save a lot of time if the cops just set up a tollbooth for the bribes instead. Note to all of you badasses who want to do a DIY tour: get ready to hand over large sums of money to the cops in random traffic stops. For Russians, the going rate is about 100 rubles (just over 4 bucks). For foreigners, it starts at 100 euros.

Tver came and went in the blink of an eye. I would have appreciated a little more time here as it's where my best friend received her adopted son. We arrived several hours late for a late lunch. The place we went to was downstairs from a children's/Chinese/VIP lounge called Mary Poppins. Needless to say, I'm a bit concerned. I don't think vegetarianism is fully understood, as it appears that they veg folks received the same soup (i.e., meat stock) without the shredded meat on top. They also received extra dessert of apple drizzled with raspberry sauce since it is assumed they are not getting enough to eat without the meat.

Very much looking forward to our eventual arrival in Moscow after this ordeal of a bus ride.

Sankt-Peterburg

So far am having a good time in Russia, my cousin's early morning blowdryer routine notwithstanding. We ended up in a brand-new hotel. The radiant-heat flooring and the rain shower are aweseome. St. Petersburg is a very elegant, stately city, at least what we have seen of it. It has elements of Paris, Vienna and Amsterdam. However, I think I prefer all of those cities to St. Petersburg. There's not much that is unique just to the location, which I would appreciate more.

While here, we figured it was mandatory to see the ballet, and it turned out to be Tchaikovksky's Swan Lake. You can't get more quintessential than that. I had higher expectations of Russians' interest in culture, based on what my mom told me. The nyet-nyet ladies were nowhere in sight when a bunch of Russian children were making noise during the performance, nor when the row of Japanese tourists in front of us started taking flash photographs during the performance. One of them even tried to evade giving my cousin change on her 1000-ruble note for the program. Even my kindgergarten-level Russian couldn't get us through that negotiation, so being a paranoid New Yorker, I flagged the tour guide to straighten it out. Not having much prior exposure to ballet, I wasn't overly enthralled with the performance. The first act in particular went a bit overboard with the swan-hopping.

Overall, I think my favorite sight is the Hermitage. To think that this art collection was once seen exclusively by Catherine the Great and the mice running through the Winter Palace fascinates me. Chalk one good deed up to the Commies for nationalizing the gallery.

So far, I am quite disappointed with the Fodor's guidebook purchased before the trip. A couple of key sites and hotels appear to be missing, and the Armenian restaurant I hunted for after the Hermitage was no longer there. we didn't have much time to investigate further as we were leaving for our next city soon after.

Onto Novgorod...

Zdrastvuy!

Just arrived in St. Petersburg and am friggin exhausted. Never again will I fly internationally in economy class. FinnAir is a good airline and all, decent food and service, but I just can't sleep when I'm upright and someone else's head is practically in my lap.

When we arrive, I wonder if there was a crisis in the region as the immigration line is about fifty wide. Then I remember that people outside the Anglo nations never had queuing in their etiquette protocol. No words are spoken as I hand over my passport, parying there are no unnoticed errors in my visa ("Ma'am, your name is not transliterated properly/your patronymic is missing.") and when I get it back it has a bright orange stamp. After exiting through the customs door, I push my way through a scrum of Central Asians huddling by the portal waiting for loved ones to arrive. Our Tour Director informs us that we are the first of the tour group to arrive, but the first shuttle to the hotel already left. Our options are to wait for the next shuttle in two hours or take a taxi. We opt to wait, and I pass out on the bench, clutching my prized possessions to me. I grasp what it feels like to be homeless or a refugee when I awake with a very stiff neck and sore ribs.

The food situation will prove to be an adventure. Supposedly, the quality of the food (NOT customer service yet) has improved greatly since perestroika. The horror stories I heard about mystery meat and non-homogenized lava lamp sodas seem a thing of the past. However, at dinner I'm a little skeptical. I asked a waiter in Russian and then English if our appetizer salad was made with fish or meat. After three attempts in two languages, he shrugged and walked away. This is going to be fun...

This is my first major vacation since Prague, and I'm psyched! Flying around the country for long weekends to attend weddings and conference or work 20-hour days does not count. I did not review my entire Russian textbook as I had initially planned, but by the sounds of it my vocabulary and accent are better than the Tour Director's. More to come once I nap off the jetlag...

Yet Another Reason to Get Sloshed

Today we got our raise and bonus letters a/k/a Envelope Day. The added perk to this is the office shuts down at 1pm for lunch and the inevitable afterparties. While I am not allowed to discuss the contents, I will say I'm happy, especially considering the economic climate and all the naysayers who are predicting these cataclysmic implosions on the balance sheets.

My liver will not be happy tomorrow morning tho...

Buon compleano!

Yesterday was my mom's birthday, but she had to attend the first communion of a neighbor. So I took it upon myself to make Sunday Dinner for her. Since I was tall enough to stir, I have enjoyed cooking, especially like trying new recipes, Nigella being one of my reliable faves. It's been a while since I've cooked and had people over. I used to really enjoy cooking as a couple, but that fell along the wayside as things started to fall apart. I've missed you, stove!

For Mom, I decided to break out the crock-pot the folks gave me for Xmas and make its maiden voyage preparing Rachael Ray's hoisin pork roast with forbidden rice and Asian-style stirfried veggies. Rachael Ray's stuff is either good with a tweak or the recipe is quite off in some way, like it calls for too much salt. This came out quite good. The meat fell apart in a nice pulled style after eight hours of slow cooking, but since the pork was quite large and was not completely submerged in the sauce in my smaller-size pot, it was a bit on the dry side. Not bad for a first try tho! Would definitely make it again. Two and a half stars.

Bottoms Up!

I am back for the second year in a row for a wine tour in Amador County, in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. The weather is perfect, as it was yesterday for a hike in a national park that was almost turned into a dam. My friend M of course takes me to the clothing-optional watering hole. Get your minds out of the gutter, I kept my bathing suit on.

In addition to Bray, which we hit last year, we also stopped at two new ones, a Croatian one where I bought a one-liter jug of some good red, and another one whose name escapes me. No matter, it was a bit biker-trash in there as they celebrated their anniversary, but the wine wasn't as smooth as I would have liked. At that point my palate could have been burnt as well.

I don't know how I'm going to make it to dinner...

Loungin'

Purchasing an Admirals Club membership (with miles no less) was the best thing I ever did. The Flagship Lounge in JFK near the lower number gates is serene and comfy, just what I need before a long haul cross-country.

Chag sameach to all my friends in the Tribe celebrating Passover. Trying to see if any friends on the left coast are having Seder tonight that I can crash.

***UPDATE 4/21/2008: This weekend is also Orthodox (i.e. Julian calendar) Easter. This confuses one of my friends, who envisions "black-hatted men searching for eggs, almost like a weird afikhomen." Christos anesty!

Blowing in(to) the Wind(y City)

At the last minute, my boss decided yesterday that I should accompany him to Chi-town to do some testing. Granted the ticket cost about twice what it normally would when booked at least seven days in advance, it did not exceed four figures. My chef/gourmand friend A cooked up some of the extra duck confit/Barolo/caramelized onion tortelli he had lying around his freezer with a pecorino cream sauce and sprinkled with bresaola crumbles, and even with half of my previous appetite I happily gobbled down most of it. Some toffee and a chocolate cognac ganache macaroon, and I am down for the count. Will need the energy for dim sum, The Lincoln Park Zoo, and the return flight home. Sometimes I consider moving to Chicago, but if I ate like this all the time, I would gain all the weight back and then some.

Cherry Blossom Girl

My friend from work and I took a daytrip to our nation's capital for the cherry blossom festival. Frankly, it was a bit of a letdown from last year. When I made the same sojourn on Good Friday last year, the place was almost empty. This year, you could hardly keep up a good pace around the Tidal Basin with all the people. The ethnically dressed children performing "God Bless the USA" in sign language was cute tho. It's amazing that the A, when performed, looks very much like the Black Panther salute.

Raspberry

My Blackberry Pearl died this week. In its place, I now have a Curve. Even though it has a full keyboard, the keys are quite small. Hope I can keep my nails long now just to type! Definitely better than the predictive text that never quite caught on to what I would frequently type.

'Tis the Season, Whatever the Reason

Just want to wish my loved ones a happy

vernal equinox (a/k/a Spring)
Nowruz (Persian New Year)
Purim - yeay for Esther and hamentaschen
(Gregorian) Easter - feels a little early, but that's ok
a great weekend, especially if you're in finance since markets were closed yesterday

Even if you're not Christian, there is an important message to be gleaned from the Passion of Jesus. Jesus was executed for turning things on their head and challenging the status quo. I'm not focusing on his Son-of-God shtick, but rather the two commandments he preached - love God and love your neighbor as yourself. Compared with the Ten Commandments and the 613-odd mitzvaot laid out in the Torah, that is very simple yet also vague and leaves a lot of room for questions and judgment calls. It's hard to rejig one's life to two basic concepts after having so much structure and law. The point is, it's very easy to get defensive or dismissive of a new concept or idea. Instead of quashing it, try to explore it and embrace it.

[This would make a good post on Kehilla - hint hint]

Body Count in the House

Here comes another recession. Everyone has been denying and playing down the poor economic conditions in the US and elsewhere, but now the fit is hitting the shan, and the shoes are starting to drop - jobs are hemorrhaging. This is the part that scares and saddens me the most, when friends and loved ones through no fault of their own find themselves without employment. More than increased prices and plummeting housing rates, this removes some degree of certainty for the future and can leave people feeling hopeless. In addition, it makes those left behind feel insecure and conflicted about their position. The last time this happened for me was after 9/11; cuts were brutal and made those of us (including me) feel weird about having survived when friends had not. I am not seeing it in my company, and particularly in my department (I guess people always need IT), but in the past month it's not looking good for those who have already been let go and those feeling the heat:

MorganStanley - 1
Lehman Brothers - 1
Citigroup - 1?
Bear Sterns - 2?

Time to ruminate a little: on the way home from Florida last month, my rowmate and I saw a package containing human remains waiting to be loaded onto the plane. It felt a little creepy, but it also got me reminding myself of a core value. Life is not necessarily about the great job and gobs of money. As we see, those things can enable people to be happy in some ways, but they are fickle and fleeting. I admit, I like having a well-paying job and being able to support and entertain myself without much second thought. However, my goal is to have my life flash before my eyes before they close and think about the wonderful experiences I shared with others and how much they have meant to me. If anything, the one element I most appreciate about my career is the fantastic people I have met along the way, especially those with whom I socialize and keep in touch. This helps keep me grounded especially in times like these.

To those of you out there that have received the dreaded pink slip, or have survived thus far, hang in there. It gets better; it always does (eventually).

Dog Barking, Can't Fly Without Umbrella

Twice in the past month, I have placed calls to colleagues in Australia and had someone answer with a non-English-speaking accent who mumbles some unintelligible gibberish, puts the phone down, and then nothing except for a barking dog and a television in the background. Apparently this is a major hack of the mobile network. It's a recording that is cleverly timed to sound like someone really has answered the phone. Plus, it appears to have spread to the UK. If you think you've reached this rogue recording, don't say anything, just listen.

After scouring blogs and the news sources, it seems that this has not hit the blogosphere quite yet. If I find any updates on it will post.

Makes you want to check your minutes usage, eh?