Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow...

Dear friends and readers (do we have one single reader who isn't one of us?),

I am sad to announce here on the blog that PHD is no longer. After two full days of packing, ditching, cleaning, and selling, the gathering spot of our youth is empty. I thought about posting some favorite memories from PHD, but instead I would like to share with those of you who weren't there some of the final PHD memories.

Ellen and I literally cleaned PHD for 24 hours (totally gunning for those pangs of sympathy and guilt you must all be feeling after reading that). Being the strategic gals we are, we scheduled a garage sale to raise funds for cleaning supplies and also eliminate the inevitable amounts of clutter accumulated by four girls in two years. The sale was set for the first few hours of our cleaning project.

Our first customer was unforgettable.

1) A small, old, asian man came to PHD and it will never be the same. After scoping out all of the clearly marked "FOR SALE" items laid out in the living room in a beautiful flow-conducive pattern, our friend wasn't satiated. He wasn't finding the "custom jewelry" and "electronics" he came for. Then, as we walked him toward the front door, he made a bee-line for the kitchen. He opened the cabinets and seemed captivated by the ten year old rices and pastas Ellen has carted around most of her adult life. He swiftly began stockpiling desirable items--in the middle of the living room where the sale was actually taking place. It looked like he was on "Shop Til You Drop". As Ellen and I watched in masked horror/hysterics, he added a few items from our bookshelf that weren't for sale (Broadway's best Love Songs, Amy's old Opera sheet music, A bottle of vermouth) and asked us "how much for all this?". Seeing as this was our first potential sale and he has amassed about 18 items that weren't even on sale, I tried him out with $20. Nope. After much haggling, I stepped out of the situation and Ellen secured $7.

2) Apparently the guys moving into out apartment are HOT. So says Katie, who informs me on garage sale day that she met them and they want to buy the dining room chairs. Well OF COURSE!!! Sure!! Email them and see how much they can pay!! After no word for 24 hours, I decide to call, as the chairs aren't selling at the big sale. On Sunday afternoon at around 2 O'Clock PM, I had a speakerphone conversation with four completely inebriated boys who not only called me "Hardly" for ten minutes, but who also spent the bulk of our conversation time talking to each other and forgetting I was there. Needless to say, I couldn't procure any money, and was forced to sell the chairs to THIS GUY...

3) Coincidentally?, another asian. He calls me and expresses interest. I give him chair measurements (all dining room chairs are uniformly 18" high). I tell him the price that is on my ad that he read. He low-balls me because "there are a lot of chairs on sale right now". His words. He asks if there are any stains on the chairs. I say no. He asks again, because apparently he went to pick up a couch yesterday that he was told had to stains, only to find an enormously stained couch. I accept his ridiculous price because time is running out. He is two hours late. He calls and says he is sorry he is late, he had to buy some wine. One hour later he arrives with asian girlfriend in tow. He sits in chair. He asks for me to hold his tape measure (indicating table height) in front of him sitting in chair. Girlfriend gives this a try. I am still holding tape measure. This simulation isn't sufficient. He asks me to find something in the apartment "this" high. I find something 6 inches short. He brings over chair. He asks me to find "some books or something" to put on top that corrects the incongruity. Katie and Steve (both present, thank GOD) find a box of cereal and a text book to stack. He likes it. Girlfriend gives it a try. He asks to use my internet. SOLD.

4) On garage Sale Day, Ellen and I realized we hadn't eaten. So we ordered a giant Bravo pizza, half plain half Pep (as Schwayman says) and we sat down in the middle of several unsold items. We heard a knock at the door, shouted "Come in!", and didn't offer to move ourselves or the pizza as our latecomer perused the PHDelights scattered around us.

5) Ellen and I found a cache of beer in our fridge (I won't divulge what condition the fridge was in before I cleaned it...and don't you dare ask ellen about that stove). We had thrown away our bottle opener, so we opened beer with a hammer all night.

6) We made a combined 10 hour playlist.

7) We accidentally threw away several of Katie's personal items. She dug through the trash for some, and for the others we are just plain sorry. We owe Katie a pair of shorts and a new razor, among other things.

8) Ellen was convinced she could sell her crutches (I bet her dinner she couldn't), and though she won't receive any money, her new craigslist friend Steve is coming to pick them up and donate them to Africa tomorrow morning.

9) During the first hour of cleaning, Ellen and I heard noises coming from Mychal's old room, and discovered a puppy.

10) Somebody LOVED our purple TV stand (it is BEAUTIFUL, Amy) and PAID MONEY for it.

11) We received endless comments about how great our apartment is. And it was very difficult to explain why we would ever want to leave.

That's a small taste of all that occurred. I truly wish each and every one of you could have been there to say goodbye. Great. Now I'm crying.

H

Everything I need to know, I've learned from living in Springboro, OH.

First off- I suppose I should apologize for not having written sooner. My only excuse is that I've been distracted by everything the great town of Springboro has to offer (some of which you will hear about later in this post). I HAVE been reading, though, and have been thoroughly entertained. Posting just isn't my cup of tea. Like E L, I am intimidated. I haven't written for fear of being called lame in comparison to my fellow blog writers. I thought I was off the hook, because anytime Yeldah Knorc has badgered me about my lack of blog posts, I've been quick to point out that I'm not the only one who is MIA.  "Hell-Kat hasn't written yet either!", I would remind her. This worked remarkably well until yesterday, when Yeldah informed me that Hell-Kate posted a little over an hour ago. 

So here I am. 

I would like to share with you some of the insight and wisdom I've gained from my 10 weeks of  living here in Springboro. You won't find Springboro on a map (trust me, I tried). It's between Dayton and Cincinnati, just in case you were wondering. And the lessons I have learned here, I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

Enjoy.

Helpful Piece of Insight # 1: People lie.

On La Comedia's website, you will find their clever, catchy motto: "La Comedia: a taste of Broadway." On the first day, the technical director of the theatre told us that "if it happens on broadway, it happens here at the La Comedia." This is bullshit. My bet is that on Broadway, Annie wouldn't slip on a piece of BUTTER and fall flat on her ass at the end of act 1. I bet the man who yelled "THANKS, OBAMA" at the end of "Hooverville," a song making fun of president Herbert Hoover, would have gotten kicked out. Or how about when an entire piece of set ran over my foot, causing me to rush to Urgent Care to get xrays and wake up the next morning with a bruise the size of a frisbee on my foot? Does that happen on Broadway? Lies, I tell you.

Helpful Piece of Insight # 2: I take New York City for granted.

Since I've been here, we have done SO MUCH fun stuff- laser tag, baseball games, trashy bars, theme parks, water parks, outdoor concerts, roller skating nights. I actually started pouting when we we started our last week here, because I'd have to "get back to reality" in NYC. Then I realized that I was being ridiculous. If I would just seek out fun things to do in New York like we did here (mainly because our only other option was to sit in our rooms all day), I would never feel like New York is overwhelming or a burden. So guys- let's find new, fun things to do when I get back. Restaurants, bars, activities, neighborhoods we don't usually visit- there is SO much to take advantage of (ALMOST as much as here in Springboro). 

Helpful Piece of Insight # 3: Dayton is NOT a big city.

Helpful Piece of Insight # 4: Honesty sucks. You should lie to everyone. Refer to # 1.

I decided to walk in the theatre wearing sweatpants and no makeup one day. Immediately upon entering, one of the stupid little girls I share a dressing room with says sarcastically, "Wow, Mychal- you look awesome." I brush it off and head upstairs when one of the locals in the show, Charlie, a 60 something year old man who left his wife in his 40's to be Blanchard, his "black partner", yelled, "Mychal, come here for a second!" When I walked over to him, Charlie looked me up and down and said "Hmm. I don't know if it's the buffet or what, but you've gained a few pounds." I'm sure I turned white, because he then recovered by adding, "No! It looks sexy on you! I love it!" When I finally make it to the dressing room, another little girl tells me I look tired, and asked if I got enough sleep. WTF?

Helpful Piece of Insight # 5: Southern comfort and coke might or might not be the best alcoholic beverage ever. 

Helpful Piece of Insight # 6: Children are stupid.

One night, as I walked down the aisle to make my entrance as star-to-be wearing a khaki trench coat and a funny hat, a child yelled, "Look, mom- there's Mary Poppins!" 

Helpful Piece of Insight # 7: When looking to invest in a piece of real estate, immediately cut out anything that is located directly next door to Mcdonalds.

Helpful Piece of Insight # 8: RAID Ant killer doesn't work. 

This morning, I woke up with an ant CRAWLING ACROSS MY PILLOW. This has gone TOO far.

Helpful Piece of Insight # 9: When I am old, I will participate in Bingo Nights, not live theatre.

There is an man in our show, Ernie, who is gross and old and has a huge birthmark across his right cheek. In our 2nd week of rehearsal, Ernie added me on Facebook (why are old people on Facebook?) and proceeded to whisper in my ear the next morning, "thanks for giving me something great to dream about last night." Gross. Ernie also forgets his lines on stage. Constantly. Instead of making something up or just standing in silence and letting someone else pick up the cue, Ernie mumbles something that no one can understand. 8 times a week at the top of the show, when Grace enters, Ernie is supposed to say "Good afternoon, miss Ferrell." Ernie forgets Grace's name about 30% of the time, and says, "Good afternoon, miss Fhfushsdfjhse." Ernie also tries to touch my ass every day in during "Hooverville."

Helpful Piece of Insight # 10: People in Springboro like to take advantage of the "Missed Connections" section of Craigslist. 

Our Rooster has gotten a shout out by a man wondering if his moves are as good in private as they are on stage. And then during tech week, I went to Mcdonalds every morning early to get breakfast (hold your judgement, please). Sure enough, at the end of the week, the girl who plays Grace found a posting on Craigslist for a girl who was ordering early Tuesday morning at the Mcdonalds in Springboro (there is only one). The subject? "Wish I could have ordered on of you to go."

Helpful Piece of Insight #11: I need every one of you back in my life. I love you all and miss you so much!

Enough said.

Twyla. I can call her that now.

Oh my goodness, fellow bloggers.

I have been trying to think of something to blog about for DAYS now. I have started about ten entries in the past week, but every time I end up simply wasting a half hour. Until TODAY.

As many of you may know, I now work for my brother's ex. Pshhhh, don't I know it! I believe all of you have met her. Her name is Michelle. And she is a goddess.

I began work only five days ago, and today, on my fourth day of work, Michelle asked me the following:

"Would you like to go see an invited dress rehearsal of Twyla's new show?". Just like that. No pomp. No circumstance.

(If you don't know who Twyla Tharp is, look her up. She is a famous choreographer who did "Movin' Out" among many other remarkable things)

So. I freaked out. And said yes. Michelle couldn't come to the dress rehearsal because she had patients during that time, so she sent me in her stead. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And may I just say it was the best three hours of my LIFE. I was five feet away from Ms. Tharp herself (who is crazy and amazing and inspiring and pictured above), and the whole thing took place in a rehearsal studio so I was about five feet away from the dancers (read: incredible athletes from another planet).

The show, like movin' out, is a "jukebox" dance piece but instead of Billy "cradle-robbing" Joel, this one is set to Frank Sinatra's music. And about 90% of the movin' out cast is in this one too. And now I don't have to pay $100 to see this when it comes to Broadway! Now I am getting boring.

Theme of this post: MY BROTHER MARRIED THE WRONG WOMAN.

Also, I see none of you have replied to my email. I sent it well over one hour ago. I see how this is going to be. Don't ask me why nothing is dedicated to you people.

H

Update from the Den

No top 10 list for you scallybags tonight.  I'm sitting here, pantsless in my den, eating celery and hummus.  And I thought of all of you.

Pants can just be SO restricting.  I know Yeldah knows what I'm talking about.  They are especially suffocating while choreographing at 11pm in the den, which, otherwise would be much too small a space except for the fact that it has been completely cleared out due to the infestation of fleas there, a problem almost as bad as the fruit-fly situation in the kitchen and bathrooms, but not nearly as bad as the fact that I am now choreographing pantsless to invisible music in my head about the Creation of Man and Earth.  But yes, fruit flies: flash me back to that first PH D summer of the flies.  Anyone remember??  How the hell did we get rid of those things anyway?  Right now I've tried the dumb red-wine-vinegar traps, which are effective in killing but ineffective in the destruction of spawning.  Then I tried pouring ammonia down the drains, which some online housewife swore to be the trick.  Next morning, the nuisances were back like a heart-attack.  Then, after a phone call with Tim at Athens Pest Control, I poured bleach down the drain.  I will see tomorrow whether he knows his shit or not.   The strangest thing is not the swarms of gnats that confront me as I pee but more that I AM THE ONLY ONE IN MY FAMILY WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THIS CRISIS.  There are tiny little bundles of hell with wings flying all over MY AIR, landing on MY FOOD, buzzing in MY EARS, WATCHING ME IN MY PRIVATEST OF MOMENTS and no one else seems to CARE.  I really considered the idea that all this time alone without friends was getting to my head.  Hallucinations!  Doc?!  Meds?!  My latest theory is that  God is sending the plague into this home to clue me in on the lameness of a 24 year old living with her parents.  Well, God, I WOULD move out, except that my garage apartment is part of a home that was as of a week ago put on the market.  So here I am sleeping and dancing with fleas and fruitflies. 

Anyway, all of this is to say that in searching, pantslessly, for some choreography inspiration, I dove into my mother's extensive collection of footage from plays I was in back in the day.  And I came across some of hadley and I singing "In His Eyes" from Jekyll and Hyde at the Access Broadway competition.  Hello-larious.  I dangle it carrot-style to all of you who have opted OUT of the late September trip to GA.  My stick-style strategy is to yell threats via fb messages like Yeldah does.  

Mike, I teach a bunch of 8 year olds now and all their moms want to be friends with me on FB , so keep the fast-pooping comments to yourself.  NOT!  KEEP EM COMING.  

That's all

amy

I forgot?/MEALPLAN

So I've been sitting at work with nothing to do for...mmm, I'm going to go with an hour, and with building frustration, I almost said aloud, "what else should I surf on the internet," which is when I realized what I had done.

I've ignored you, and I'm sorry. The problem is, though, I have no lists, no top-tens, because I spend my days working-watching lost (!!!!)-sleeping-repeat. AND, since the cafe is indefinitely A-BUST (don't get me started), I fear this will be the beginning of my future. ugh.

so instead, I'll just let you all know that TODAY I GOT A MEAL PLAN! you have no idea how happy this makes me. After weeks of Amy's frozen burritos for lunch everyday (I bet you didn't know that Amy has been making me burritos, freezing them and sending them to me everyday--did ya, did ya?), our meal allowances have finally been enacted, with people ready-and-waiting to make me salads! pasta! sandwiches! smoothies! potatoes-au-gratin! It's like college, but different!

On another note, if any of you aren't busy, and have an interest in catching some tennis, the qualifiers are free and open to the public all this week! and you could come see me! wouldn't that be fun?

alright, i must go. someone might need me. probably not, but you never know...

Stories from the Bronx, yo!

Here's the thing...

blogging intimidates me.

i feel like i can only write something if i have something really either important or funny to write. But no matter what I write, I fear I'll always be lame compared to my fellow bloggers.

I guess I'll share a few of my favorite stories from the Bronx. That's somethign to blog about, right? Remind the rest of you (who have moved away from or plan to move away from the city) what you are missing.

Here was my summer.

1) I was hired as the drama instructor to a 300 kid day camp at a middle school in the Bronx and directed a musical version of "Aladdin."

2) I was the only white person on staff or in camp and the youngest instructor. My nickname became "white legs" (a nickname made by the girl who on the first day stood up in my class, snapped her fingers in my faced and said "why the FUCK do i have to respect you?").

3) I had to teach kids from the Bronx how to rap. Note: the only rap I'm familiar with is "Men in Black," which i mastered in the 7th grade on my karaoke machine, and Mike and Caroline's "Chocolate" rap.

4) After I taught them how to rap, I had to choreograph a rap. That was fun.

5) I witnessed a near shooting THREE times

6) They sell cinnamon rolls the size of my face for $1 in the Bronx.

7) I had either a large Diet Coke or a $1 icecream every day from McDonalds, because it was the ONLY way I could get through my day

8) One of my co-workers name was "Xi-u." She introduced herself as "hi! I'm She'an...but I spell it with an "X."

9) CORNBREAD. For those of you who don't know what that means, I'm sure you will be told at some point.

10) I have never felt so fulfilled in all of my life. I met the most amazing children and people and feel that I have been forever changed from my experience this summer.

Ellen. out.

My Being the First Response

Allow me, dear friends - I'll be the first to respond, AS USUAL. Tell me, do you all hate reading my blogs? I think you do. Do you? Oh god... I have this fear that you hate reading my blogs and also that you see how pathetic it is that I'm always first to respond. And now you're reading this and nodding you're heads and laughing, oh you're laughing!, and you're happy that I finally realize how much you hate my blogs.

But now you're not laughing, you're frowning and you're cocking your heads to the side because, alas, I continue to blog.

It's my duty, bitches. As first responder (and licensed doctor, need I remind you?), I offer here a medical report regarding our ailing blog:

Name: PHD-lite
Age: 1 yr
Condition: Comatose
Pulse: Once, sometimes Twice/week
Diagnosis: Multi-system failure
Treatment: More blogging!

Oh god, this is why you hate my blogs! Because I do cute things like this? It's totally annoying, right? Oh god... get serious, Mike! Law school! Logic games! Yes, logic games, Amy, are indeed my favorite! Yes! But I need to start doing them again - I took a brief hiatus to... watch TV and stuff. But, heretofore, henceworth and so on, I shall return to the law! An esquire I shall be!

Also, Amy, I would love to do a road-trip! Now, Memorial Day weekend is early in September, right? I really should be practicing then, though. And how would I get home again? I don't know. We need to figure this out. You know, I can't go. No, final answer. Well, who else is going? Can I phone a friend? Wait, no. No, final answer.

You know, Amy, you and I could just use this blog to pen-pal with each other. Would you like that? I realize that you usually address your blogs to everyone, and also that you seem to avoid any direct conversation with me (You made me #10 on your Top Ten and only wrote a few short sentences to me about some factory that I do not work at, which I thought I had cleared up in my previous blog. Throw me a bone here, Amy!)

As for the rest of you haters... I have nothing more to say. This is Doc, signing off. This visit, being a house call, cost you each a hundred dollars. I take personal checks, certified checks, money orders, cash, coins, chocolate and Trident original gum.

My entry is now over. Happy? ARE YOU HAPPY?!

Installment the 2nd

Hello Romans!  

Aka: slackers.

I'm not quite ready to let this blog die, so in an effort to engage all you deadbeats, I proudly present this week's top 10 list.

10.  Mike, how's NJ?  How's the factory; how are the child-laborers, and how much do you love LSAT logic games???  

9.  Katie, how's the U.S. Open treating you, and, while we're on the subject, have you heard Hadley's and my latest idea for the romantic movie event of our generation?  It's called "Ball Girl."  Once your restaurant gets up and running, I'll want you to invest.  Also, please see to it that Karen includes Edamame Dumplings on your menu.  

8.  Caroline, many thanks for the fantastic email.  I had half a mind to copy and paste that shit right here in the blogosphere.  How is the kid?  Francois?  Is he alive?  Is that his name?  Parlez vous Frances yet?  Where are you in the move from top to topless swimming?  Please keep us posted.

7.  Ellen, what's the status on my bed?  I told a certain acronymed-male to get in touch with you about picking it up.  I assume he has not.  Is my subletter still alive?  Is he maybe a vampire?  Also, what are the kiddies like in Queens?  Royal pains?  Get it??

6. Mychal, I gave you so much great stalking material.  Please respond accordingly.  I particularly would welcome your thoughts on the robot lawnmower.  

5.  Hadley, how'd you feel about Time Traveler's Wife?  Any thoughts you'd like to share?  Maybe you could also give us a recap of the last week you spent with a certain someone. And I don't mean Shoals.  ALSO, omg, I was talking to my favorite person in Company, and I found out that she knows another Hadley.  And her Hadley happens to be one of her closest friends.  AND, IT'S NOT YOU!

4. Amy, do you think this thinly veiled attempt to save the blog via a fake top 10 list is going to work?  

3.  All, do you realize if we found a friend whose name started with a P, we could form the phrase "CHAMP, K?"with the first letters of each of our name?  Let's start taking applications.

2.  All, does anyone have any interest in road-tripping down to athens with me over labor day weekend?  I have been assigned the task of driving my brother's car from boston to georgia--a 16 hour trip. Regardless, I will be in NYC on saturday.  I think we should do dinner.  EDAMAME DUMPLINGS.

1.  All, on a scale of 1 to 10 how lame is this list?  Please don't let it be the first thing we see when we come to phdlite for too long.

Overnout

A

My Being of the Opposite Sex

Me too, Amy, me too! I am SO glad I am not the only one to be rejected by Yeldah in bed! I thought this barrier thing had something to do with my being of the opposite sex and her being attracted to me. This, I thought, was the most probable explanation. Afterall, haven't you heard? I have pecs now. I work out. I'm lifting fifteens and riding on twenty-twos, on the real. I do not, I tell you, sew bloody dresses in some fuck factory in Jersey! (But listen to this coinky-dink: At age 5, I planned to become a dressmaker. But I gave that up in favor of becoming a barber. And that for becoming a jockey. I LOVED Thoroughbreds. Still do.)

I wish to conclude this resurrection by wishing everyone a Good Friday (get it?!) Go in peace.

THE BLOG IS BACK installment the first

Romans, friends...well, mainly just Romans,

With this new phdlite era, about which I could not be more pleased, I'd like to contribute a top 10 list from my recent trip to visit nyc, regarding specifically my observations and reflections on its prima-resident, yeldah.

10.  Yeldah greeted me in typically unpredictable form: by scaring the living bejesus out of me.   As I finished my 1 story commute via elevator (who needs stairs these days?) to the much less impressively named "2W"  (more like 2badit'snotphd), I looked up, jumped, and screamed all at the same time.  Why, you ask?  Instead of seeing a closed 2w door, I saw hadley (in the housedress she gave to me and then reclaimed).  Shocking.  I decided the only way to calm down was to down 3 glasses of wine and the assortment of refrigerator goods yeldah spread before me, including a 4 cheese quesadilla, ranier cherries, celery, hummus and an entire roast chicken.  I scare and hunger easily.  

9.  Following my feast, I decided to ditch Yeldah and 2W for another acronym, a friend of mine who goes by, well, an acronym.  I arrived back at 2W 3 hours and about 5 drinks later, and for reasons I don't fully comprehend even now in complete sobriety, I decided it was more respectful to stay the night on the couch, in my clothes.  Yeld, simultaneously (we found out later), in her sleep stupor, thought I was offended by the barrier* she had set up in the middle of her bed to safeguard her body from mine.  It was for this reason, she thought, that I had refused her body and her bed.  The barrier, as it turns out, caused more drama than it prevented over the course of the weekend. A few nights later, (according to yeld, who reminded me frequently throughout the next day) in my sleep, I crossed the barrier with my left foot and (gasp) made contact with yeldah's right lower leg!  

8.  Our plan for my first full day in new york involved (the following is a quote taken from yeldah's status update): "Brunches, puppies, open houses, movies, true bloods. And all with Amy!!!" What our day ultimately ended up including was a 2pm brunch, a movie, a 3 hour nap, and see 7.  I was too hungover and wooed by hadley's enormous bed to do much else.  The movie, by the way, was Julie and Julia, which despite being absolutely wonderful, was also embittering.  WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT DAMN IDEA TO COOK THROUGH A COOKBOOK AND BLOG ABOUT IT?  INSTEAD I AM HERE ON PHDLITE BLOGGING ABOUT A BLOG I WISH I HAD COME UP WITH.  

7.  Perhaps the event I most looked forward to of the entire trip was the Sunday 9pm airing of the latest installment in the 2nd greatest tv show on air (FNL, don't worry, you're still my number one), TRUE BLOOD.  I raced home from a dinner [way. up. town.] just in time to catch the episode, which hadley had dutifully dvred (I was, I admit, 15 minutes late).  Well, at about the 10 minute mark (just as things were getting unbearably good), the effing tv freezes.  Yeldah, my consummate host, had unintentionally stopped the recording process, so we were left hanging in frozen despair until the next airing of trueblood a whopping TWO HOURS LATER.

6.  The 11:30 airing of trueblood was amazing.

5.  The next evening, Yeldah and Helkat and I met each other for dinner at Buddakan, Yeldah's favorite restaurant in the city.  Yeldah really kicked off the evening with a bang by ordering a cocktail that incorporated equal parts strawberry and chipotle peppers! And perhaps even more surprising...alcohol!!   Yeldah took the reigns in guiding her new ponies (that's me and hellkat) in ordering.  Namely, she insisted we get the edamame dumplings.  More like EdaMAMA MIA dumplings.  They were pocket-full-of-heaven-sunshine-and-Yasmin-Reese delicious.  (A sidenote:  Yeldah, turns out I have been to Buddakan before!  In Atlantic City about 3 years ago.  At that establishment, the centerpiece is a huge (HUGE) golden buddah, and it was while eating dinner in his presence that I came up with my restaurant concept "Commune," a bread and wine bar featuring a big statue of Jesus.)  

4.  Then I played softball with John Stewart. 

3.  Yeldah and I also saw the movie, "The Orphan,"  which exceeded all of our expectations.  Yeldah, in true form, made us get to the theater 45 minutes early to avoid a sold-out audience.   Unbelievably, there were still seats available at the 2pm Monday showing**!!  Also of note was my major existential crisis about whether to buy popcorn or not.  

2.  Our Tuesday morning involved a double order of pancakes, and a post-pancake nap by hadley, while I watched Sandra Lee dump oatmeal packages on top of canned apples, a treat which she lovingly referred to as a "Betty."  The lady is crayzywithaycrazy.

1.  Maybe you've realized, like I have, that this top 10 list isn't a list; it's just a chronological account of my visit.  Bright young whippersnaps you all are.  Wanna cookie?  

0.  Yeldah also signed into my facebook account and went sandra-lee-style-crazy with a trueblood quiz, a status update and a wallpost.   I would direct you to the evidence on my wall, but I deleted that ridankadickness***.

-1.  I'm now on my way to youtube to learn how to dice an onion.  My soon-to-be-published cookbook, "Me and My Food: Cooking in Place of Friends"  is mere slices away from the presses...

OVER AND OUT, PHDLITE4EVA,

A

*A pillow.  

**There were 2 other people there.

***Yeldah's newest addition to her ever-growing arsenal of made-up words. 

IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIIIIVE

Friends, Romans,  ....well mainly just friends. 

I was about to remove this blog from my bookmarks, as it seems that the blog has truly ceased to exist in the past few months.  But THEN, I took a trip down memory lane and read some of our posts.  And I believe this blog is GOOD.  I also am surprised that we managed to blog so much to each other even though we saw each other numerous times a week.  

But now?  I see Katie for an hour after work like twice a week because she has sold her self (read: body) to the UP Open (read: US brothel), Mike is holed up in some factory in Jersey sewing until his fingers bleed all over the muslin dresses he fashions, Amy is around 11-yea-olds all day in the deep south and has replaced all other human contact with cooking, Mychal has been taken hostage by a clan of mountain people in the backwoods of Minnesota, Caroline has decided that she needs to be a clown and a nanny, the two of which only go hand-in-hand in the brassieres of Paris, I (Yeldah, folks) spend the majority of my time watching entire seasons of tv shows alone in my bed, and Ellen moved to Queens. 

WE HAVE MORE TO BLOG ABOUT NOW THAT EVER!!  

I think that as a last effort to save the friendships we forged four score and seven years ago, we should resurrect this blog, and GIVE THE POWER TO THE PEOPLE. 

The above task is easier said than done.  I have decided to establish a RULE.  You may not like that, but since I am the only one who cares enough about all of you to make this shit happen, you WILL comply.  

I want EVERY PERSON to post something on this blog ONCE A WEEK.  I know.  I know this seems a lot.  But you can post one sentence, one word!  One feeling!!  THIS IS WHAT IT TAKES. 

This is what it takes to maintain our friendships.  And to get a book deal (did you see Julie and Julia yet??  This is basically my new scheme to get famous).  But mainly the friendships. 

OK.  GO! WRITE! POST! MAKE ME PROUDDDDD!!

xoxo, Y