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Just A Little Terror

So I have this mild paralyzing fear of insects/multi-legged creatures. According to my parents, it began when I was about a year old; they heard piercing I’m-being-murdered-by-a-man-with-an-axe screams and went rushing to my crib, only to discover that I was being terrorized by the much-feared musca domestica (common housefly). And despite my crippling phobia, my loving parents frequently took me camping. It was, if I recall, absolute hell: I lived in a constant state of terror that a daddy long-legs would make its way past the mesh door of our tent.

And then in fourth grade, this all - quite miraculously - changed with the arrival of our new science teacher, Howie. Over the course of that year, I brought home a variety of pets that I previously wouldn’t even have considered looking at, let alone touching, including a crayfish (pictured above), a turtle, a snake, a snail, a frog, and a few mealworms…all, inexplicably, named Sammy (I was an odd child).

When MyLife.com, America’s #1 people search engine, offered me the opportunity to search for a mentor with whom I’d lost touch, I immediately thought of Howie. I found out that he’s still living in New York City, and still showing kids just how non-lethal the average musca domestica is. Had I searched for him on Facebook, MySpace, or any other single social media outlet I imagine it would have been near-impossible to locate him, given the limited information I have, but with MyLife I was able to learn what he’s been up to immediately. Awesome. Now if only I could find my first-grade crush…

MyLife

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Because I know you’ve been waiting with bated breath…here’s what I’m thinking for Kendrick and I this Halloween: Buttercup and Westley immediately after their escape from the Fire Swamp (ROUS-bloodied shoulder and all). I know it’s not the most earth-shatteringly original idea ever, but I LOVE The Princess Bride (my parents’ new kitten is even named Westley), and I also think it’s kinda…well, hot.

The Westley costume will be easy enough to create (although I suspect pouring Kendrick into a pair of black tights will prove to be challenging), but I need a red cloak-type gown (v-neck, wide sleeves, loose body). I’ll scour the Salvation Army this weekend, but I’m thinking I’ll probably end up making the thing myself. Anyone have any super-simple sewing patterns that might work?

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Thursday night, I met Liz, Laura and Rachel at The Standard Grill in The Standard Hotel for dinner. Tragically, I had been force-fed at a meeting just prior, but I did manage to polish off a few oysters nevertheless. I plan to return soon to try out the charcuterie sampler, which looked unbelievable, and the burger, which I’ve heard is fantastic. 

I only started eating oysters fairly recently, and although I absolutely love them, I’m still squeamish enough that I always request the smallest ones available (in this case, the Fanny Bays were recommended). To me, size is more important than taste, because I have yet to find an oyster that I didn’t like the taste of, but I can’t really handle the concept of chewing on enormous, slithery ones.

You may have heard that oysters are considered an aphrodisiac: this idea stems from Greek mythology, as Aphrodite (=aphrodisiac), the goddess of Love, sprang from the ocean in an oyster shell. You also may have heard that you should only eat oysters in months that end with an “r”. This is not true - the rule dates back to a time when refrigeration techniques were less advanced, so it was best to eat oysters during the colder months. 

In my opinion, oysters are best served on crushed ice, with just a little fresh-squeezed lemon juice and a touch of shallot-vinegar sauce (called mignonette sauce). Oysters are also lovely fried: 44 1/2 has a fried oyster appetizer that I order frequently. 

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Here are my steps for doing laundry:

1. Allow clothing to pile up in laundry basket for at least 2 weeks.

2. Pile dirty clothing into large trash bags.

3. Heave clothing-filled trash bags across street to dry cleaner, cursing when bags inevitably rip, sending various unmentionables flying in full view of construction workers tearing up Second Avenue for new subway stop.


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