Fourth of July 2014

Penthouse view!

Penthouse view!

Thank God for long weekends. They provide the perfect icebreaker for awkward elevator talk between you and your colleagues.

Unlike most of the country, I didn’t have any plans and decided to stay at home. It wasn’t a bad weekend, and I learned a few things…

1. I am easily murderable

Unfortunately, it had a rough start: On the actual Fourth of July, I returned to my apartment after spinning and realized that I did not have my keys. Oops. As all three readers know, THIS DOES NOT HAPPEN TO ME. I am not an absentminded person who frequently loses her things.

I started panicking when it dawned on me that it was probably one of the most vacationy holidays ever (and my friends with the spare set were away). Luckily somebody exited and let me in within probably five minutes.

I went up to my floor and rechecked my bag. Nope, still not there. I ran into my neighbor, who said he would let me through his fire escape except that it doesn’t connect to mine. Eek. I left a message with the super, knocked on the two apartments below mine, and was about to call the 24-hour locksmith until I noticed the side door on the first floor (that I’ve never used) and started climbing up the fire escape, which I’d never done before.

Uh, it was SO EASY to get into my apartment. From the moment I discovered my keys were gone, it probably took me 15 minutes to get back into my place. This is unsettling on a number of levels. I just hope that if anyone tries to climb my fire escape to rape/murder me, they’d at least hit the five floors below me.

2. I really love food

I ate some new things!

This was cultural.

Sprinkles: This was cultural.

After a failed attempt at watching fireworks on the UES, I had a salted-caramel cupcake with coffee ice cream from Sprinkles. Lest you consider me disgusting, FYI, there is only one Sprinkles on the East Coast (suck it, D.C.!) that serves ice cream (Georgia doesn’t count) so this was totally a socioepicurean study on the gastronomic habits of native Angelenos.

The next day, I was hanging out with my friend when I noticed that someone on Instagram posted some delicious photos of tacos:

Los Tacos No. 1

Los Tacos No. 1

We were in Union Square, so we walked over to Chelsea Market where I had the carne asada and adobada tacos. I’m trying to eat healthy for my sister’s upcoming wedding, so I only had two (like a lady) instead of three.

Post-tacos, we walked a bit, which made me want more food:

100 Montaditos (and free chips)

100 Montaditos (and free chips)

So I got five teensy-weensy montaditos in the Village. There are a zillion of these in Spain but only one above the Mason-Dixon Line in the U.S. so this was cultural too, obvi.

The next day, I was on the UES again and instead of going to Sprinkles, I decided to be dainty and go to Forty Carrots instead:

This is only like half the portion.

This is only like half the portion.

Sadly, I came to the conclusion that coffee frozen yogurt isn’t that great. I should stick to plain. (I ate it all anyway.)

In sadder news…

3. The Internet is not always right

So last week, I got drenched in the rain and forgot to zip up my bag. By the time I got on the subway (where, as usual, I wanted to read something), I realized that my Kindle wasn’t really working.

It was turning on and still displaying, but the buttons weren’t working. Yikes. So I went home and did some research of what to do when your Kindle gets wet. I read suggestions to reset (I did this multiple times and it did not work) but people swore by the “stick your electronic device in an airtight plastic bag with uncooked rice” method:

Taking the advice of the Kindle-loving masses

Taking the advice of the Kindle-loving masses

I left it in there for three full days. And it still does not work. And my Kindle just smells like g.d. uncooked rice.

Boo, I think I have to get a new Kindle. Wah.

Sigh, back to the grind.

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One thought on “Fourth of July 2014

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