Playing Hooky

Yesterday a couple friends and I played hooky and hit Six Flags in New Jersey. We couldn’t have hoped for a better day, the weather was perfect and the park was near empty.

The guy who organized the trip made the unfortunate decision to invite a new girlfriend who doesn't like roller coasters. Always the gentleman, he was forced to sit out many of the fierce rides, as she was intimidated. (Side note: The organizer (aka F.W.P.) made a serious pass at me last Saturday night, after which I explained to him that hooking up would be an awful idea because, "Don't you think Wednesday would be slightly awkward?) Thankfully, my other guy friend was as much an adrenaline junky as I and we hit every roller coaster of note. Our favorites were:

El Toro: This wooden roller coaster (pictured here) was the best ride of the day. El Toro begins with a jaw-dropping, stomach lurching drop -- at 76 degrees it is the steepest drop of any wooden roller coaster in the world. The entire ride is consistently great throughout. As my roller coaster buddy so eloquently said, "Unlike Superman, it doesn't blow it's load early."

Kingda Ka: Sheer insanity -- pictured in the back here -- it is the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the world. I actually to ride it twice to get the full experience, as the first time I was so freaked out, I kept my eyes closed the entire time. It was sick, the ride starts with you going 0-128 mph in 3.5 seconds, where you then climb straight up to 456 feet and then drop right straight right back down. It was sick... It was exhilarating... It was fast... I loved it!

Nitro: A fellow at the park described Nitro to me as the "Cadillac of roller coasters." After locking myself into the seat with only a dinky yellow lap bar (seen here), I was beyond anxious. There was nowhere to put my hands, my feet... Moving at 80 mph with a dinky little yellow lap bar distracted me, but somewhere around the quarter mile mark of the 1 mile ride, I relaxed into it. After dropping 215 feet, and speeding through 6 steep drops, horizontal loops, an S-curve and a high-speed "hammer head," I wanted to do the ride again....

The saddest part of the trip was all these fat Americas who couldn't fit in the safety seats. People would wait in line for an hour, only to find out that they were too fat for the safety harness to lock. It was so embarrassing, they would get kicked off of the ride and be subjected to snickers from those waiting in line.... (Alright, full disclosure, I snickered.) I can think of no better motivation for a diet than the public humiliation of being kicked off a ride.

Diane von Furstenberg - Inspiration

Last week, as Blondie and I walked by the new Diane von Furstenberg store in the Meatpacking, we realized she was hosting her store opening party. Not wanting to miss an opportunity for free champagne, we walked in as if we had been invited.

As I stood next to women who designed the wrap dress, I was momentarily horrified to realize I was wearing a cheap, imposter H&M wrap dress. At that moment, I came to the realization that I must use the career-high “earnings” and my birthday as an excuse to spend WAY too much money on a fabulous party dress.

So I spent Sunday afternoon shopping with Elle and Blondie for the perfect party dress. Instead of one - I ended up with 3 and a $700 charge on my credit card.

I have every intent of trying the dresses at home and making a final decision on which dress is most appropriate for my "I'm not 30 yet" birthday party... It will either be: a very bold Vivienne Tam mini, or very sexy black, shift dress mini from ABS.

Either way, I'm glad my friends will be paying for my cocktails this weekend.

Oh, yeah and I'm breaking my own rules. The Producer has been badgering me these past few months to meet for drinks. I have him tentatively slated for a pre-birthday dinner cocktail on Saturday. I consider this good timing. There is a certain start and end time, plus there is nothing quite like looking fabulous when you encounter your ex...

To Do -- Hike Breakneck Ridge

Finding myself in NYC for the long weekend, I gathered a couple of my adventurous friends together for a one-day trip outside the city. After a bit of research, I decided upon hiking up Breakneck Ridge, which is easily accessible from Metro North.

Saturday morning I was up and about at 8AM. My newly purchased backpack was stocked with water, granola bars, apples, oranges and PB&J sandwiches for my friends (I prepared PB & Fluff for myself.)

The $20 round trip ride on Metro North was a breeze and offered stunning views of West Point Academy and the river. When we exited at the Breakneck Ridge stop (literally a single stop alongside the road, no parking lot, no platform) I had only a general idea of how to find the trail head. Since this was such a well-traveled path, I had relied on someone else leading the way. However, I soon found myself directing those who got off the train to the tunnel where the road (9D) cut through the mountain and our hike began.

The name of the trail is no joke. For the first 1200 feet, we scrambled over rocks at a 45 degree incline. It was the ultimate rock climbing experience (sans safety equipment), we would use our hands and feet to find small nooks and crannies where we could pull ourselves up and over the rock slide. We barley noticed our burning quadriceps as our hands became chaffed by the rough rocks.

At times the trail would provide alternate routes, which were slightly less difficult than the provided path. At one point, I took the difficult route while my fellow travelers went the alternate route. As I began scaling the rock, I realized too late that I was on a very small ledge and if I were to slip I would undoubtedly fall into the seemingly endless chasm. For a brief moment my fear of heights nearly took over making me dizzy and weak. But I quickly realized that I had no choice but to keep moving forward. After I hoisted myself over the boulder, I briefly became a pious person and thanked God for the clarity to make it through that moment.


As we scrambled our way up the mountain, we had the most magnificent view up and down the view. Every bit of the climb was breathtaking. If I had remembered batteries of my camera, I would have taken tens of tens of photos. (Note to self: Repeat this climb during fall foliage.)Oh and thanks to these guys for posting their hiking photos online. Unlike me they obviously remembered batteries for their camera.

After making it atop the rock slide, where most of the Manhattaites turned to head back down the hill toward Cold Springs, my hiking party carried on. We spent the next 4 hours hiking up the more traditional trails, in search for the fire tower which would provide us with views of the Manhattan skyline.

As we moved deeper into the woods, I realized that the hiking directions I had weren't the most accurate and began to regret not picking up an official hiking trail book. After a couple wrong turns and second guessing ourselves, we backtracked our way back to the "official" trail. After four hours of hiking we eventually made it to the fire tower and we enjoyed lunch, while not-so-secretly hoping we were loud enough to scare away the large cat whose paw prints surrounded the water hole close by.

We then hiked on and and out of the mountain. Seeing other hikers coming up the mountain was rewarding. The best part was when they'd ask where we were coming from. When we told them Breakneck, they were always astonished that we hiked so far. By the time we exited the woods, we were in Beacon. NY. Despite returning to Manhattan dirty and smelling like bug spray, I complete didn't care that I was wearing khaki shorts and sneakers in the city. We were a misfit group of hikers and I was proud of what we had accomplished in our day hike.

I has so much fun, I've actually purchased a book on day-hikes in the NY area and intend on purchasing a bonefied pair of hiking boots. Although, I highly doubt that anything can come close to those first 1200 feet of Breakneck...

Campaign to a new me....

Eight years out of college and I'm extremely bored with the lack of mental stimulation in my life. While my job offers me ample opportunity to manage crisis -- it isn't rocket science. And to be completely honest, I spend much too much time, working, reading trashy weekly magazines, watching MTV, entertaining friends and drinking wine. I'm starting to feel like my brain is rotting.

So, this weekend I set out on a campaign to change all that.

After a spending three solo hours at the Museum of Modern Art, during which I listened to the audio tour, I began wandering home. In-the-midst of this wandering, I found myself myself leafing though a hard copy book titled, 1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die.

I was quite surprised to learn that thanks to my liberal arts education, I've actually knocked a couple hundred of the books off the list.

Considering that I once toyed with the idea of drinking through the full list of bars in the Sheckys' guide, this book is my new challenge. And while securing a NYC library card would probably make this a more affordable venture, this weekend I picked up three books included on the list which I have not read:

~ The Other Boleyn Sister by Philippa Gregory
~ Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray (because watching the movie doesn’t count)
~ The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

This is an ambitious undertaking, but I can think of no better reason to finally get around to reading The Lord of the Flies, which I've successful adverted throughout my formal education.

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Addendum: Actually, maybe I should get a library card. According to Gothamist, today a new library just opened in Soho....

Add to your NetFlix Cue....

Doing my dutiful daughter duties, I called my mom on Mother’s Day. As we’re talking about the wedding of a family friend, my mom says “I really miss [your ex-boyfriend].” My response, "Yeah, me too."

(Background: This is my last serious ex. We were high school friends who reconnected at a mutual friend’s wedding. After dating for nearly two years, I thought this guy was “the” guy. I nearly moved out of Manhattan to quaint New England to give it a real chance. Then we broke up.)

In this frame of mind, when HBO began playing The Break Up I settled in to watch. The movie isn’t spectacular, but there is one particularly redeeming scene. Jennifer Aniston is in her room and Vince Vaughn walks in to apologize for standing her up earlier in the night. When he notices she’s crying he starts walking toward her. She starts crying harder, tells him to stop, and lets him know how much he had disappointed her. Then she tells him to leave her room, which he does and at that point their relationship is effectively over. (Yeah, it made me cry - after all I was in that frame of mind.)

Seriously, the whole scene made me realize that men and women speak completely different languages. In that scene, Vince should have walked over and hugged her. A big bear hug, not one of those wimpy, limp arms hugs. It was so obvious to me that if he had done this, their relationship wouldn't have ended, and they possibly could have had a civilied conversation about everything that was wrong with them... I'm sure his man-brain thought it was the right thing to do, but to the female mind, it was wrong, wrong, wrong.

Guys needs to read between the lines sometimes.

Crocs

I really don’t understand trends which stem from the mid-west. (Neither does Elle). In particular, I’m having an impossible time understanding people’s fascination with crocs.

Really? Plastic shoes?
Really? That color?
Really? It goes with “everything” in your closet?

When I first saw them on teenage boys in Albany, New York a couple years back, I figured it was an upstate thing. Then I started seeing them on small children. I justified it that these poor children were obviously at the whim of their parents. Then suddenly they were everywhere! Couples were wearing matching pairs. Old folks. Young folks. Teenagers. Babies. East Coast. West Coast. Ugh -- at Jazz Fest, there were nearly as popular at the soft shell crab po-boys.

This could be the worst thing to happen to footwear fashion since penny loafers. I hope the trend passes soon, although I just noticed they are selling in Bloomingdales AND there is rumor of a Crocs-only store opening in Manhattan.

The Horror!

Side Note: Yes, I’ve been neglecting my blog these past months, but it has been worth it. I’ve reached a level of career defining success which I hadn't really planned on. Here’s hoping the good-will in the office toward myself carries on through the summer, at the very least until my annual review.

Move over Ben & Jerry

I am admittedly a wino... An open bottle of red, translates to an empty bottle of red. I could hardly contain my excitement when last night I learned of wine cellar sorbets -- an entire line of sorbet made with wine and champagne.

I kid not, the flavors are:

Red:
• Cabernet Sauvignon, 2005 Central California
• Zinfandel "Late Harvest" 2005 Central California
• Pinot Noir 2004 New York

White:
• Champagne N.V. California
• Riesling 2004 New York
• Sauterne N.V. New York

Blush:
• May Wine N.V. New York

Who needs the calories of Ben & Jerry, when you can get a buzz with calorie-conscious sorbets. Summer just can't come fast enough for me.