What Does This Have To Do With Anything?

While I don't have any earth shattering news this week, I am determined get back to regular posts and avoid having to write another apologetic "where has the time gone?" entry. (See February - July). I actually have plenty to share, but if I write about the new job I have to get it approved by my editors to make sure I am not giving away any industry secrets I suppose. So I guess I will just say that so far it's been fantastic and that the magazine is aptly named because there is an abundance of both food and wine for the taking. I'm hoping I'll be able to report back at this time next week that I have a second very exciting part-time job cooking and am finally employed full-time (goodbye empty pockets!), but if I don't bring it up, just pretend like I never mentioned it because that will mean that I didn't get the job and I won't feel like explaining.

In other news, over the past several months, I've been volunteering at Edible Magazine events with my Wanna Spoon partner in crime, Linda Lou (you may also know her as A La Grecque). Here's Linda at the Brooklyn Uncorked event in May that featured Brooklyn chefs and Long Island wines.



Edible magazine is a fantastic local publication that focuses on well, everything that is edible and local. You probably have an edition in your city or region and I highly recommend checking it out. They feature lots of interesting people and places that are worth getting to know. Plus they put on and sponsor fun local food events. A few weeks ago, Mike and I volunteered at Meatopia, a BBQ and beer event held on Governor's Island featuring 25 chefs doing their take on natures gift to us: dead animals. We spent the day handing out copies of the mag and eating a ton of meat and drinking local beer from Sixpoint Brewery. It's a great way to attend cool events for free (it's the cheapskate in me) and meet great people who like to eat and drink. Here's me at Meatopia:



Tonight we (Mike, me and our adopted Greek baby, Linda Lou) are attending Good Beer at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. It's 22 chefs cooking 22 dishes to pair with 22 beers. This time we are attending, not volunteering because they throw you a freebie every now and then for helping out. I am very much looking forward to it. I don't think I was always this way and I'm pretty sure it's because Manhattan is a money pit, (Side Note: Remember that movie with Tom Hanks and Shelley Long? For some reason, as a 9 year old that movie really spoke to me and I watched it every single time it came on TV. It probably had something to do with the scene where the bathtub crashes through the floor, but whatever, I loved that movie), anyway, I was saying, I get so excited about getting free stuff now. It's almost like "HA! You can take 40% of our income for rent, and charge me twice as much for eggs, and force me to spend $8 on a single load of laundry that I have to carry down three flights of stairs and around the corner to the laundromat, but guess what city, I win this time!".

So in addition to be cranky with strangers, I am now cheap. Maybe when I turned 33, my brain got confused and thought I was 83 and I am now an old woman trapped in a young woman's body. Kind of like Freaky Friday, but the version with Jodie Foster, not Lindsay Lohan. Or EVEN better Like Father, Like Son, which is the male version of Freaky Friday with Kirk Cameron (sound of 4th grade me sighing) and Dudley Moore (crickets). In this case, I am not actually switching bodies with anyone, just slowly going crazy, obviously.

Does Anyone Know Where This Train Is Going?

I don't know how this happened. I have been known to avoid things I don't have the energy to deal with until they become this dark cloud hanging over my head or a weight on my shoulders constantly reminding me that I have unfinished business. The best analogy I can come up with is that the last few months have been like the aftermath of a wedding. If you're married, you probably know what I'm referring to. You spend months, even years planning your big day, endlessly researching invitation styles, centerpieces, favors and a bunch of other crap that doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things (no offense to my friends about to tie the knot). You have this perfect day, a week of honeymoon sex and bliss, and then you come back to reality and what do you have? The rest of your life. Which if you're like any other bride, you've only thought about one day for the past 12 months and have neglected to think about the day after that or the day after that. Not to say that those following days aren't great days, but there's an adjustment period where you have to switch gears and refocus your energy on sustaining day-to-day happiness and rid yourself of the princess fantasies. So basically, graduating culinary school was a lot like that. There was this huge sense of achievement and possibilities, a lovely vacation and then what did I have? The rest of my life.

I've spent the past few months interviewing, working here and there, and doing a fair amount of traveling. And every time I sat down to write about it, I just felt lost. I didn't know what to say because I wasn't sure what the hell I was doing or what direction I was moving in, so I did what I tend to do when I become overwhelmed. I distracted myself and pretended like this blog never existed. But I always knew it was there, waiting for me to come back, and in a way taunting my writers block. So I bit the proverbial bullet today, dusted myself off and got back on the wagon (cliche hat trick!). I thought about writing in detail about all the things I've done and the ups and downs, but I am nothing if not lazy, so you're getting a blog equivalent of a recap episode so I don't have to linger in the past and can look ahead at what's to come. Here we go!

Previously, on Emily's life:

1. We celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary in May. I am happy to report that the aftermath of our wedding has been a great ride.

2. In May, I applied and interviewed for several jobs, thought each interview was a raging success, and then was repeatedly punched in the face with rejection. While it's amusing now, had I blogged about it, I would have had to send anyone reading free Xanax to recover from the downer. And let's face it, I needed it more than you.

3. June was a much better month. I was able to do some giving back. By giving back, I mean fly off to Paris on a whim to comfort a lonely friend who had just moved there. And by comfort I mean wander aimlessly around the City of Light eating, drinking, and people watching with a side (trip) of Brussels sprinkled in. Interestingly enough, it was better than Xanax and gave me a fresh, conquer-the-world perspective.

4. I picked up some freelance catering gigs in June with some fantastic women chefs. I got to cook alongside a Top Chef contestant for a bunch of fashion industry types (and models) and I did a really fun party up in Connecticut for some arty people with a beautiful country home. Hopefully this will turn into more freelance work because I very much enjoyed it.

5. Mike had a conference in Atlantic City for an entire week, so I took a bus down and joined him for a few days. While it was lovely to spend some time laying on the beach and walking hand in hand on the boardwalk in the evenings, there are two things I won't be doing again: taking the bus to AC or doing anything that involves AC. I'll try to explain this delicately. People watching in New York City is always entertaining, sometimes a train wreck, but mostly just wacky fun. People watching in Atlantic City, you just want to take a giant broom and sweep everyone there under a rug. Then roll up the rug, put it in a weighted garbage bag and toss it off a pier. Better yet, we could put the rug in the Greyhound bus I rode down in and drive it off the pier. So much for delicately.

6. We spent the weekend of the 4th with our good friends Trisha and Mike, boating the days away in the waters of the great white north. Or whatever Canada is nicknamed. Despite the fact that everything that possibly could go wrong related to our plans went wrong, we had a fantastic weekend with perfect weather. It was so nice to be away from the city.

7. I finally reeled in a job from the endless sea of interviews and one that I am very excited about at that. It's a part-time, six month position at Food & Wine magazine in which I will be assisting the two wine editors with story research, wine tastings, wine inventory management (I have built a three bottle cooler into all of my purses so the bottles won't clink together when I make off with them each evening), and hopefully some website writing. It should be a great opportunity that will bring more of the same.

8. I'm still rowing through the endless sea to fill in the rest of the work week as well as the gaping hole in our bank account, I'll keep you posted.

9. I turned 33 this weekend and I am convinced that this is going to be my best year yet. I don't know why, but there's just something about the number that makes me think it's magical. That's the koolaid I am drinking today anyway.

10. I think I am becoming too New York for my taste. I was walking home from yet another interview today, which was on the Upper West Side (73rd and Columbus). I called my sis and decided to walk for a while and chat since it didn't feel like the inside of a dragon's mouth outside. I cut through Central Park and then headed down Broadway, which of course took me straight into the lions den of Times Square. I caught myself telling two different people to "Watch it!" when they stepped in my path because they were so busy staring dumbly at the pretty lights. About 20 blocks south, I was chatting with Mike (earphones in) and some kid approached me with a clipboard for Greenpeace or gay rights or whatever, it was easily the 14th kid who had approached me while I was walking. As he started to talk, I cut him off with a quick "I'm on the phone" and tried to maneuver around him. He ran alongside me, telling me he knew I wasn't actually on the phone. I stopped and loudly said "Yes I am, NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!". Mike just laughed. I tried to recall the exact moment in time when I became a rude, surly creature, but I think it may just be a transformation that everyone who lives here goes through from the constant barrage of leaflets, campaigners, panhandlers, drug dealers, knockoff accessories pushers, tourists, crazies and morons.

So now you are all caught up on my last few months and can picture that I will soon need Botox to get rid of the lines I am getting from scowling at people.