No money, mo' problems

Last weekend in the city felt temperatures rise to the high 80’s, which meant that the Speedos and humid subway terminals were in full swing. A week later, it is 65 outside and we are scrambling to find anything long-sleeved and closed-toed that may or may not have been packed. It’s amazing how I knew and anticipated for months the fact that I was moving here, and somehow I seemed to pack like I fled in the middle of the night. At least I did not forget jeans, like my landlord MK. On that note, we are firmly committed to refraining from spending money on clothing until we have jobs- which means we will freeze before we starve. KR and I actually had the audacity to wander into an Upper East Side boutique yesterday afternoon, only to flee after the saleswoman chased us around the store with some adorable black T-straps with subtle metallic accents and red heels.

Fortunately for me, I will be flying home for the weekend this Friday, so I can raid my closet for anything autumn-friendly that I own, since it is not much of a season in Texas. No, I am not returning home for good, only to attend that blessed event in which my dear friend HH will become Mrs. HC. My wedding count for this year thus far is six, three of which were the same week in two different cities in January. Needless to say, I have managed to amass quite a collection of little black dresses. This does not help at all with the fact that the two weddings I am participating in this fall both require brown dresses. I’m really not complaining; either way you spell it, I’m getting new dresses. Some might call it a win-win-win situation.

I need to find a pedometer at home this weekend, because I’m very curious to see how far we walk everyday. That has probably been one of our biggest adjustments; is the realization that anytime you want to go somewhere, you have to walk. Even if you want to take the subway, there is significant walking involved (and always stairs). This serves as my explanation as to why we are always so ravenously hungry at every meal. I made the mistake of wearing heels when we went trucking around the Lower East Side on Friday night- one that will not be soon repeated, regardless of how much better they make your legs look. KR and I actually went in a shameless pursuit of Taco Bell a few nights ago, only to find that their website’s location listings were mistaken. We were severely disappointed, and we still yo quiero very, very much… Is it obvious that I refused Spanish in high school and college? I opted instead to take German, which is so unbelievably useless. I think I have used it a grand total of eight days of my life.

We actually made a trip (walking- of course) to a grocery store a few blocks over to get food for the week this morning- and made a breakfast casserole and fruit and yogurt parfaits for brunch. We’re really sticking to the basics around here. By the way, if you are attempting to sweeten your coffee or tea anywhere in the tri-state area, and you are unable to find turbinado sugar or Splenda, it’s probably because we stole it.

On a different note, we are going to church tonight- (I know, night church is very progressive), which is fortunately in our neighborhood. We have learned the hard way to try and avoid taking the subway on the weekends, seeing as many subway entrances are closed, and/or you might end up waiting 20+ minutes on your train. It is the city’s way of telling you to stick to your ’hood on your days off. Word. We have opted instead to do some laundry, and to serenade AV with many different renditions of Bob Carlisle’s hit single ‘Butterfly Kisses’, which is one of her top five favorite songs of all time.

In the midst of the pre-Emmy’s red carpet show, the breaking news is that O.J. was apparently arrested for armed robbery in Vegas. This takes me back to that bizarre day when my suburban elementary school stopped everything to broadcast the verdict of his murder case in the early 90s. I wonder how well that would go over with the PTA these days…

We are now enjoying the sweet smell of an Anthropologie candle and brownies, and the way things are going I think we’ll pop in season two of the Office and call it a night. This never gets old.