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September 23, 2014

Anonymous said: Paparazzi alert! check out the cover photo on eater's latest article on the Five Points revamp article. Love your blog and congrats on the new addition to your family!

Ok that picture is horrible and I now have way more sympathy for celebrities but more important — FIVE POINTS IS GONE??? That brunch is our go-to, you don’t even know. And yeah yeah I know they’re calling it a revamp, but new owner, new name, new cuisine … heartbreaking.

PS: Thanks! :)

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September 23, 2014

Drone photo of nine climbers atop a mountain in the Bernese Alps in Switzerland. 
(via nprfreshair)

Drone photo of nine climbers atop a mountain in the Bernese Alps in Switzerland. 

(via nprfreshair)

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September 23, 2014


What does that role-playing look like? Mostly like this:



That baby, according to the account @adoptionrp, is a one-year-old named Caitlyn. Users chime in to ask the baby questions (“Do you like flowers?”), and @adoptionrp replies as the baby (“Mes wove fwowers!”). And … that’s usually it. Though on some accounts the play takes on a more malicious tone, as with the account @adoption_rp, where roleplaying often features an obsession with breastfeeding and being “nakey.”
Read More>

What in the actual FUCK. Looks like I’m taking my account private sometime around Nov. 9th.

What does that role-playing look like? Mostly like this:

That baby, according to the account @adoptionrp, is a one-year-old named Caitlyn. Users chime in to ask the baby questions (“Do you like flowers?”), and @adoptionrp replies as the baby (“Mes wove fwowers!”). And … that’s usually it. Though on some accounts the play takes on a more malicious tone, as with the account @adoption_rp, where roleplaying often features an obsession with breastfeeding and being “nakey.”

Read More>

What in the actual FUCK. Looks like I’m taking my account private sometime around Nov. 9th.

(via fastcompany)

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September 23, 2014

Um, I’m married to this guy. (Although I have some questions about that hipster shirt. Well — when in Portland….)
Photo by Gabi Porter.

Um, I’m married to this guy. (Although I have some questions about that hipster shirt. Well — when in Portland….)

Photo by Gabi Porter.

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September 22, 2014

33 at 33 

On Wednesday, in my 33rd week of pregnancy, I turn 33. That means I’ve now lived longer than my birth-mother did, a milestone in any member of the Dead Parent Club’s life. My baby is active and apparently healthy but good lord if she can’t stress me out sometimes. I’ve never been jabbed in the ribs or hurt by her kicks, something so many women talk about that I started to wonder if she’d be born limp and listless. My doctor snorted when I mentioned this. 

"Honestly, when women complain about painful kicks, I wonder how they’re going to handle the birth." (This doctor can be kind of an asshole.)

image

And then I am a bit small for my gestation. SMALL? It doesn’t seem possible, but there it is: 2 cm short of where my belly should be, on average. And I’ve “only” gained like 21 pounds (and not for lack of carbs ‘n cheese). I look more like 28 or 30 weeks pregnant, to a practiced eye. Is she going to be born limp, listless, and woefully undersized?

The doctor appraised me.

"You’ve got those hips," she said, meaning, plenty of room down there for her to chill, far from my ribs, cozy inside the pelvis, no need to grow a huge belly. 

"You’ve got a good body for pregnancy," she went on, and I swear to god I could have kissed that asshole doc.

This is exactly what I’ve thought since oh, I dunno, puberty. And this pregnancy has certainly born it out. But to hear it from a professional….

Call me naive but — I am confident. About the birth and about caring for a newborn (what I worry about in the anxious wee hours is her health, her neurological development — an entirely different matter).

I mean, she said it — I’ve got those hips.

It’s high time they were put to use.

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September 22, 2014

modfarm:

Japanese Supermarket Sells Shrink-Wrapped Whole Suckling Pig

Speaking of my birthday….

modfarm:

Japanese Supermarket Sells Shrink-Wrapped Whole Suckling Pig

Speaking of my birthday….

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September 22, 2014

Friends! This Wednesday! Celebrate my Jesus birthday & drink cocktails for a cause at Ma Peche, 5-10 pm (I’ll be there 6-9ish, #likeapregnantboss).

Friends! This Wednesday! Celebrate my Jesus birthday & drink cocktails for a cause at Ma Peche, 5-10 pm (I’ll be there 6-9ish, #likeapregnantboss).

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September 18, 2014

No matter how long you have been here, you are a New Yorker the first time you say, ”That used to be Munsey’s” or ”That used to be the Tic Toc Lounge.” That before the Internet cafe plugged itself in, you got your shoes resoled in the mom-and-pop operation that used to be there. You are a New Yorker when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now.

Colson Whitehead

He was writing this in the aftermath of 9/11 and already the Internet cafe reference is out of date — we all have smart phones now, even the recent immigrants — but the sentiment is so true. Don’t get me started about the area around Whisk & Ladle. It was a no man’s land when I first ventured there (remember this, tumblr?) and now it’s littered with Duane Reades and generic mid-price pan-Mediterranean restaurants. 

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September 17, 2014

Three baby showers and an engagement party.

I was eating a bowl of matzoh ball soup in a Great Neck diner (as you do), trying to explain to my hard-of-hearing great-aunt Bea about the mixed-up order M. and I have done this in (wedding date then pregnancy then engagement then City Hall wedding then baby… etc). Suddenly she stopped me.

"How OLD are these people?"

It took me a moment to realize she had no idea I was talking about myself. 

Um … well, I’m 32 and he’s 40 and WHATEVER WE DO WHAT WE WANT.

Besides, how many people get to have three baby showers and an engagement party all in a six-week period? 

The first shower was hosted by my aunts in my hometown of St. Paul. They definitely won the Pinterest Prize — there was an ‘elephants on parade’ craft table where my family and friends could make sweet little elephants and write wishes to the baby on the back; an elephant-themed diaper cake; “baby dills” sleeping in a nursery; and a one-hour, super-serious game of “Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me: Baby Shower Edition.”

Then there was a traditional Hindu shower at my father-in-law’s apartment here in Manhattan. In the seventh month of pregnancy, the mom is pampered with special foods, anointed with powders, garlanded with flowers, and showered with all green everything, from silk scarves to bangles (my mother-in-law gave me a knockout emerald-and-diamond heirloom ring a couple weeks later. I could get am used to this.). I felt so, so special.

Late in August, my sister threw me a very cool, very NYC friends’ shower at our apartment, complete with a groaning Russ & Daughters spread, adorable decorations from Pearl River Mart, and a mix tape (with song suggestions from all my besties) + American Apparel hoodie for my already too-cool-for-school East Village baby. The only way that day could have been better is if I was drunk.

And the only way to top all that off? A boozy-fabulous engagement party at one of our favorite Brooklyn spots, Clover Club. The Knoxes — Andrea and Peter — were so frickin’ sweet to put this together: custom punches (one was nonalcoholic, womp womp), a photo collage of me and M. that Peter drew from my archives (sometimes it makes me cringe to think how much I used to blog — but as Peter said, here’s to keeping track!), plus both sets of parents and a healthy representation of our New York familia. With mini lobster rolls and bindis on all the ladies, it made us even more excited for the main(e) event next summer. 

Damn, it’s been a good year.

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September 17, 2014

Exotic means there, not here. Them, not us. You, but definitely not me. Exotic is a word defined by the speaker’s perspective, which assumes dominance and normalcy over the person being called exotic.

I’m not a parrot. So don’t call me exotic.

It’s a micro-aggression. It’s a backhanded compliment. And it’s simply inaccurate.

(via theweekmagazine)

Yeah. Our daughter will probably be called ‘exotic’ and how weird is that? A born and bred New Yorker with two American parents? She’s a fucking patriot, man, and don’t you forget it.

(via asie)

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