That’s Stella

Easter didn’t really FEEL like Easter this year. I tried to pinpoint exactly what it was that was missing, and came to the conclusion it was the lack of relief for the long weekend. Firstly, not only do a lot of people work on Good Friday here, but stores are open on Easter Sunday. Add to that the fact I haven’t been working, there really wasn’t that excitement for a weekend with plans of long drives or last season BBQ’s with family and friends before the weather gets too chilly.

I can’t imagine Easter egg hunting is as fun over here in New York for kids. I mean, parents would just have to hide them in their tiny apartments. I have fond memories of searching for colourful aluminium wrapped eggs in the garden and under leafy plants.

At first I thought my Easter was going to be pretty quiet and I planned to ignore it, but it turned out to be such a memorable day. My girl friends asked me to meet them for a bout of shopping so we spent a couple of hours roaming the streets and popping into the normal chains. We stopped by street vendors and I bought a $5 pair of sunglasses! Bargain! In the afternoon we walked back to the Village to have afternoon tea, and discovered this street fair just at the cross street to my apartment!! My road was blocked off for the fair and there were these markets with cheap jewellery and art and clothes and knick knacks and AMAZING street food - fried pork, cajun rice, sweet potatoes, herbed chicken, corn dogs, satays and deserts. I wanted to try all the food. I settled with fried Oreos!! (Oreos in batter deep fried coated with icing sugar). I had one and threw then rest away. The place was colourful and the sun was shining. It was one of the most amazing days I’ve experienced. I was thankful for the sun and the sounds and the sights and smells and amazing friends who were just as excited about the day as I was. We had afternoon tea at a nearby cake shop and I ended up going back to the street fair to buy some food for dinner that night.

Easter was bearable without family because I have my Jewish friends who seem completely oblivious to the holiday. Christmas on the other hand (even though my Jewish folk don’t celebrate it) will be completely unbearable on my own.

My good friend Mike has a motto “Leave the party when it’s fun”. I know it might sound ridiculous, but I thought I learnt my lesson when Mike and I were at our friends birthday party. I was having a fabulous time flirting with this guy and Mike (who acts like the big brother I always wanted) insists on leaving and I act like the bratty sister he never wanted and tell him he’s dreaming and go drink more whilst I wrap up this deal.

Anyway, all of a sudden, I shit you not, but it’s like the clock struck 12 and everyone just LEFT. This guy I’m flirting with tells me to come out with him, but I’m wearing the mother fucker stilettos from hell and tell him I’ll go to Mikes (where I always have a change of clothes/shoes) to change my foot attire. Anyway to cut to the chase, Perth has the WORST taxi service in the whole universe and Mike and I are the LAST ones at this party waiting for a cab. I mean, the host was hosing down his yard and packing up chairs and the mojito machine whilst we were waiting. I got an earful from Mike and it was horrible, because he was right.

Anyway I thought I learnt my lesson, but apparantly I didn’t because last night, I had another case of regret not leaving the party when it was going well, instead of rock bottom.

So bear with me as I try to be as discrete as possible…

I went to see these semi-famous bands play. I ended up going SOLO because my friend flaked out and couldn’t go and I really didn’t want to miss out. I kinda thought people might befriend me being alone and all, but that really wasn’t the case. Ha! So much for positive thinking. Luckily there were a few smiles exchanged with one of the guys from the band and we end up talking… then flirting… then talk about going out the next night… and then finally the exchange of numbers. Now THIS is the point where I should’ve left, but no. Silly me. I couldn’t help myself.

Five fucking hours later, we are sitting at the bar, we are both completely sloshed and he is rubbing my back and patting my hair from what I can only think is him being loyal, because we are both pursuing conversation elsewhere because talking to each other is the last thing we want to do.

And I regret not leaving earlier, because I am sure if we were out at some hole in the wall restaurant the next night and could actually hear each other to get to know each other, it would’ve possibly worked out, but from our time together I thought he was sweet, but oh so BORING. I craved this rich conversation and a back and forth of intellect and similar interests, but he didn’t know who MacGyver was and never watched Groundhog Day. C’mon! I’m by no means a fan of MacGyver but was he completely oblivious to the 80’s?

So I FINALLY leave at 3am and we are so sick of each other that no one dares to mention seeing each other again.

Me - Ok. I’m leaving. Bye.
Rocker - Ok Bye.
Me - Bye.
Rocker - Did I spend enough time with you?
Me - No. But it was fun.
Rocker - Oh…
Me - Bye.

I just wish I would learn already. I have such an attraction to rockstars with skinny leg jeans and some vintage shirt that I always seem to forget they never seem to be able to offer me any goods in the personality department. Sorry - sweeping generalisation. But give me someone who can talk to me about movies, and art, and pop culture, and travel!

Oh another thing - this band had a groupie of girls travelling with them from Oz. And well, they were THE unfriendliest bunch of bitches I have ever met. Since when did it become cool to be a groupie?

Right now, there is a middle age French man sitting next to me at Au Bon Pain who keeps tutting and cursing LOUDLY under his breath because he seems to have lost something. His older handsome dark good looks and accent still does nothing for him. Highly un-charming. It is KILLING ME. Why can’t this man control himself? I want to slap him across the face with a baguette.

I did have a rather tasty seeded nut bagel. SO delicious. Crumbs cupcakes are across the road so if I’m feeling particularly naughty I might make a stop off. I went for a 2 hour walk this afternoon so of course any thing I gained from that will be lost when I tuck into the cupcake frosting.

MMmm… frosting…

So, this morning at 3am I was walking back to my apartment from my friends place and stopped by my regular deli so I could get my favorite ever chocolate beverage - Yoohoo! I have three deli’s all within the vicinity of 100 metres from my apartment, but I go to my regular deli 2 blocks away only because they are the only deli close by that sells Yoohoo, plus the deli assistant is always really friendly, and not in a “Hey hoochie mama want some action tonight?” friendly which has been the case in a deli on 14th and another on 6th ave.
Anyway tonight I went to get my fix of Yoohoo, and there were none on the shelves! I was devastated! It looked like it had been replaced by this organic SOY chocolate milk beverage in one of those juice box type cartons. I mean, bloody hell, if I want something good for me, I would just drink water, screw organic and screw soy! I want Yoohoo!
SO, I thought I would go out of my comfort zone and purchased Nesquick chocolate milk. I’m pretty sure we have this in Australia but never tried it. Anyway I didn’t really have high expectations and lucky, because it is TERRIBLE. There is no yummy chocolatey goodness that Yoohoo provides. Poor poor poor! I need a chocolate fix and am now regretting not getting those packet of peanut butter m&m’s that were trying to tempt me at the register.
ARGH!

10:30am
Alarm clock goes off. Wake up. Yes, life is sweet for some. Have a shower and dressed.
11:30am
Friends buzz my apartment and I let them in. They walk up 5 flights of stairs just to get to my door. That is love just there folks.
11:45am
We walk down my street which happens to be one of the most beautiful streets of NY and take pictures of the brownstones with my friends new fish eye camera. The sun is shining and it’s a nice 5 degree day.
12:00
100m from my stoop is a coffee shop that prouds itself on taking out the Best Coffee in NY in 2004. Celebrities are also known to stumble in weary eyed after a big night out. We go in and my friends get coffees, whilst I opt for the hot Chai and read the newspaper.
1:00
We walk further in to the West Village and line up for lunch at Bonsignour. The food is all tempting and reminds me of Tarts back in Perth. It is packed and we are lucky to nab the table by the window for maximum sunlight and people watching. I chose the meatloaf and swiss cheese with tomato sandwich on 7 grain bread with beetroot vinaigrette salad and Nantucket Half and Half (lemonade and tea). There is a cute black man wearing a beret behind the counter serving customers and singing and occasionally dancing to Diana Ross & The Supremes Love Child. A dischevelled hot guy wearing wayfarers and a leather jacket walks in. My friend grabs my arm and tells me he’s from the TV show The OC. I have to tell him to be cool and loosen his claw him my arm. Lots of ladies and men walk in with their hand bag size dogs dressed up in doggy couture.
2:30
We walk along my favorite street - Bleecker and walk through the parks and window shop.
2:40
We walk into Magnolia Bakery and admire the cup cakes. We share a Peanut Butter Blondie and get a hot cider to keep us warm.
2:50
We walk further along Bleecker St and pop into Marc Jacobs and the Marc Jacobs clearance store further down the block. I buy a MJ metallic purple key tag for the collection of keys.
3:30
I pop into a gift store and buy some wrapping paper for gifts for mum and dad. I found a $2 Englebert Humperdink record for dad at the Chelsea Antique Flea Market on Sunday.
4:00
Friends come back to my apartment for a drink.
4:30
Say goodbye to friends and fall asleep on my bed for an afternoon nanny nap.
6:00
I head out to the grocery store on 14th and buy ingredients for my friends Turkey Meatballs recipe. I have to remind myself that I have to drag my groceries back 5 blocks to my apartment and up 5 flights of stairs and refrain from buying anything heavy. I am too stingy to pay for delivery!
7:00
Arrive back at home and decide I am too lazy to cook anything extraordinary tonight and settle on chicken, mushroom, broccoli and water chestnut stir fry.
8:30
Receive a text message from my neighbourhood friend “What R U doing? Feel like ice cream?”. One word response back to her - “YES”
8:45
My buddy meets me out the front of my place and we walk to Yolato on 6th avenue. I get the birthday cake gelato scoop and we chat about cute boys we fancy.
10:00
We walk the long way back to my apartment out of guilt and say goodbye to my buddy.
I watch a Curb Your Enthusiasm mini marathon.
1:00
Goodnight

So, I know this might sound strange, but I’ve fallen into a Jewish community here in New York. I find this slightly strange because I am not Jewish. I mean, don’t get me wrong - I have no problem with it because I have a secret attraction to Jewish men and what better way to meet them then to hang out with them and their friends.

I’ve been attending Shabbat (Friday night dinners) and practicing their religion because I don’t want to be disrespectful and stick out like a sore thumb. I am pretty much down with all their customs, except reading the Hebrew prayers before and after Shabbat. I mean, I am hardly the right person to tell you the Jewish customs, but it’s things like not using electricity/exchanging money from Friday sundown till an hour after Saturday sundown and eating kosher food and not mixing dairy and meat. I’m not strict on this because I’M NOT JEWISH, but tonight, instead of using a cab or subway to get across town to our friends apartment, I walked with my friend, even though it was PISSING down with rain this evening. My boots were flooded. Also, I made sure my cell phone was turned off and other little things.

Anyway, tonight I was the only person at this huge dinner party of 20 that wasn’t Jewish but I must say I was impressed with myself that I knew what to do and didn’t talk from the time I washed my hands till the challah bread is shared and could join in on the customs and not look like a total tool.

There were 3 guys to every girl and oh my goodness, it was like a candy store. Of course the really hot guy was the only guy that didn’t introduce himself to me and I later found out from the other chicks that he knows he’s attractive and a bit full of himself. But just as I was thinking about leaving, this really attractive guy arrived and I decided to stick around. He dressed really well and had nice blue eyes and seemed friendly. He introduced himself to me but there were so many people around it was hardly the right time to get to know him. So he finally seperates from the group to get up and wash the dishes! So after some time I decide to get up and get a drink and see if he needs a hand.

“Do you need a hand?” was all it took from me to get him to ask the question I always get asked “Where are you from?!” and I lapped up the attention from being the foreigner. Haha! He said he loved my accent and we needed to hang out and yada yada! Anyway I end up leaving my friends place early in the morning and despite it being completely out of his way and add to that the rotten weather, he asks if he can walk me home!

In my head I was already thinking about what our childrens names will be and if I would convert to Judaism and if our children would have Hebrew names and if I could really convert considering how much I love bacon and pork and cheeseburgers (oh my!). But all my fantasies came to a screeching halt when I found out on our walk to my place that he was gay. Like really homosexual. Honestly, I felt like an idiot. I should’ve known by his designer pants and Dolce and Gabbana belt buckle and impeccable black shiny shoes. I wondered if I had the power to make him change teams, but as soon as he started dancing on the corner of 2nd Avenue and 10th, I decided it wasn’t going to happen.

Shabbat and the rituals are really interesting. If interested, check out more about the rituals here.

Because I am a caring daughter and know my parents only too well, this was the text message I sent them this morning before they could fly over to New York and drag me kicking and screaming back to Perth:

Hello mum and dad. A bomb went off in Times Square this morning. I am OK! Your daughter is in one piece. Just. The bomb exploded at 3am and I left at 2:30am. PHew.
P.S. I still love New York.