It's 2:30AM and Matthew's making creme brulee...

I don't think I could have it any better if I tried. He's putting 3 pans of ramekins in water baths into the oven and the whole apartment smells like vanilla - real vanilla beans steeped in creamy custard. They'll chill in the fridge until tomorrow night when he'll bust out his new kitchen torch and *voila* creme brulee for everyone at our dinner party! Well, for those who'd prefer it to the molten chocolate cakes I'm making, that is. So happy, can't wait!

There's something about ringing in 2008 with Matthew, 12 friends, Duke, champagne, creme brulee and Brooklyn fireworks that makes me think it's going to be the best year yet.

What, oh what, have I done?

Visit Blog 365

Inspired by The Rover, I joined Blog 365. This means that I'll be blogging every day of 2008 in one form or another. If I'm on vacation and I don't have the 'puter with me I'll write in a journal and transfer the entries when I get back, etc. Why have I done such a thing? Because apparently my masochistic tendencies manifest themselves in interesting ways. Also I'd like to get my creative juices flowing on a more regular basis. Writing helps me with that, even if I'm only jotting down what happened in a particular day. It gets my brain moving and my blood flowing, and that's a very good thing.

Being home alone all day is something I'm trying desperately to get used to, and it's proving far more difficult than I had anticipated. I find my mind wanders a lot and blogging is a tool I can use to channel some of that random thought pattern into something focused and productive.

Care to join me? Any takers? C'mon, you know you want to. All the cool kids are doing it. *nudge, nudge*

Ready? Let's jump!

2008, here I come. You better get ready for me. I'm doing things this year. Learning things. Making things happen. Changing things for the better. Shaking things up. Prepare yourself, 2008. You haven't seen anything yet.

2008 isn't the year I let things slide, put things off, forget about things that matter to me. Nope. 2008 is the time to shine, people. Jump right in. Get down to it.

I'm looking at you, 2008. Right in the eye.

Secret Identities and such...

Etiquette is a funny thing, isn't it? Do something the right way and people don't generally notice. Do something the wrong way and it sticks out like a sore thumb. For example, blog etiquette. Blog and etiquette are two words that, at first glance, seem rather silly paired up. However, there's quite a bit of structure built into this medium that you wouldn't think of right away.

MT and I were catching up with our friend, Kerri, over at sixuntilme a couple weeks ago and she mentioned that she and her fiance had come to Brooklyn to have dinner with us (just as I did here). Her fiance and MT were friends in high school and had recently gotten back in touch. In her post about it she referred to me and MT, which prompted MT to ask why she called him MT when she had called me by my name. That led to an interesting briefing on blog etiquette since MT doesn't blog, doesn't regularly read mine (out of respect, he wants me to feel free to write whatever I want and doesn't want to unduly influence any of it with his readership) and isn't familiar with the ways of the blogosphere.

I explained that Kerri is a conscientious blogger and she noticed that I refer to him only as MT, so she did the same. He couldn't figure out why I didn't call him by his name. I said I only refer to people by their names if they also refer to themselves the same way. But since MT doesn't blog, I automatically went to my default of using initials. It dawned on me that I never asked him if it was OK to call him by his name. We had a little chat about it and he said he didn't mind at all.

So, his name is Matthew. There you go. MT is Matthew. We're getting married. He's amazing. That's him, with the beard. He has a real name, believe it or not. The other guy is our good friend, IS. We're all a little toasted in this photo, if you couldn't tell. It was taken in the middle of my company holiday party from the most unflattering possible angle. The last company party we'll all be at together since our office is officially closed now. *le sigh* (this is a blatantly stolen phrase from my friend, M - "le sigh" is hers, but I have shamelessly appropriated it for all sorts of uses) So, Matthew has been outed.

Completely unrelated: go see Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. Do it. It's grand. We got invited to a pre-release screening through GenArt and it was amazing. By far the bloodiest movie I've ever seen, but really superb. Matthew pretty much detests musicals on principle alone, and even he loved this film. We both want to see it again. He bought me the soundtrack for an early Christmas present and it's been playing non stop all morning. Johhny Depp... yumtastic. So delicious and dark. Sondheim masterfully trimmed the score himself for this movie adaptation and it shows in the best of ways. See this movie!

We are what (and where!) we eat.

Back in 2005 an institution in NYC was shuttered for good. The Fulton Fishmongers fish market was housed in the New Market Building at the Seaport starting in 1836. The building still stands, although currently vacant and in need of some TLC, and there is a group trying to bring it back to life. Their goal is simple - renovate and repair the building, which is publicly owned, with public funds from the city and return it to use as a public market.

Public markets have been a tradition in this city for centuries now and they are rapidly vanishing. This group, New Amsterdam Public (a nod to the city's first European name), seeks to put a slight twist on the public market angle. They want the market dedicated to regional and sustainable food. Nothing sold in the market would come from more than 500 miles outside of New York City and obviously, natural and organic goods would be preferred.

This is really exciting for me. MT and I recently joined a cooperative in our neighborhood which buys shares in a farmer's upcoming crop and in return, we receive fresh fruits & veg each week from June to November from that farmer (he delivers them to our neighborhood!). Our particular farmer has a gorgeous organic farm in upstate New York near the Vermont border. This type of CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) is gaining some strength in urban areas where people are becoming more conscious of the carbon footprint and chemical fertilization required by their grocery store foods.

CSA coupled with sustainable, regional markets are a way to ensure that we not only have economical and healthy food options in large cities (eating organic and local has a bad rep as exorbitantly expensive and it doesn't have to be that way), but that we eat foods that come from close to our homes. It means we don't need to ship fruits from Chile and Argentina year round, instead we can get fresh foods from our own regions. It's healthier for the eaters, more sustainable for the producers, and better for the planet which we seem to be destroying with wanton disregard. It's good for us, good for the economy, and good for Mama Nature. A win-win, right?

So this morning, right now, MT and I are headed off in the freezing rain and ice to go to the New Amsterdam Public Wintermarket. It's a preview of what the market could be if we can pull together and get this funding from the city. Mario Batali will be there cooking and giving tips on how to make delicious meals from ingredients purchased at the city's greenmarkets this time of year. I hope to bring home a bottle of NY state wine and some honey because we're getting woefully close to a honey shortage in our apartment. I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for reading my little PSA.

Hello? Is it just me here? Oh. Yeah. It is.

Working from home is weird. I'm working a lot, more than at the office. The difference is that I'm all by myself and I can run errands whenever I need to. Today I met my friend, Jon, for coffee in the middle of the afternoon. He's a freelancer. He tells me I'll get used to this. I tell him it would be vastly different if I were working for myself, which I'm clearly not doing. We'll see, I guess. We'll see how this goes.

On a lighter note, I had the best latte of my life today. Not with Jon, at a different coffee shop in the morning after I went to the bank (it's definitely nice to go to the bank when there's no one else there, but the coffee shops are still crowded at 10:30, so no difference there). Yes, I went to 2 coffee shops today. I know, I have a problem. Gorilla coffee - they roast only fair trade, organic beans every day in Brooklyn and the dude at the shop on 5th Ave made me the most beautiful, delicious latte ever this morning. He put the little leaf motif in the steamed milk even though it was covered with a "to go" lid. That's masterful work. Delish. Still thinking about it... *le sigh*

Melissa who?

I'm alive. I'm here. Brooklyn hasn't swallowed me whole... yet. Friday was my last day in the office. We're closing at the end of this week for good, and starting tomorrow I'll be working remotely (read: from my living room) indefinitely. You might think that's a really cool thing, something to envy. But, I don't feel that way. In fact, there's not much I'm looking forward to about working from home. Perhaps that will change with time, but right now I'm feeling isolated and alone. It's great that I get to be with Duke all day and that I can do grocery shopping and gym runs in the middle of the day instead of lunch if I want to. My challenges will be to limit the feeling of isolation as much as possible and not to let my work time bleed too far into my real life and blur the boundaries of work and home. I can't allow that to happen and it's going to be a difficult thing to figure out.

All that said, I'm going to do a meme that Kerri tagged me for last month. I've been so busy with the office closure and holiday social engagements that I've hardly been blogging and the meme will at least get my mind flowing. Bear with me.

7 things:

1. I'm messy. I'm a messy, messy person. MT had to ask me for the umpteenth time today to pick up my clothes in the bedroom and that made me feel like a jackass. I don't mean to be a mess, I just am. I'm not dirty, can't stand dirt. But clutter? I'm the queen of it. I'd love to be a minimalist who likes a clean, clear space, but the truth is, I like stuff and I hate picking up after myself. This could be a real problem with the whole home office thing. Most days I've worked from home in the past I've made a huge mess in the kitchen and living room and left myself just enough time to frantically run around and clean it all up before MT got home from work. I think that will change when being at home all day is an everyday occurrence, but I know I'll have to work harder at being neat. Today I cleaned out the closet, put all my clothes away, and sorted laundry for tomorrow. Step 1 went OK.

2. I just used a neti pot for the first time. The afore mentioned cleaning led to some amazing allergic reactions. No matter how clean we are, dust collects in clothes piles and clearing that all from the bedroom sent my sinuses into some major overdrive. If you've got any type of sinus problem (even that awful dryness that happens in the winter with radiator heat) I'd try this out. They're like $10 at a health food store. It's a bit weird to irrigate your sinuses, but it feels so good afterward that you'll be hooked from the first time.

3. MT surprised me with tickets to the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular last week. It was awesome! The Rockettes are stunning. Seeing them makes me really sad I stopped dance lessons at 14. *le sigh*

4. I'm too judgemental. I get annoyed with strangers very easily. It makes me feel awful, even when the other person is being an idiot and totally warrants some annoyance. Like when someone on the train is clearly taking up 2 seats when they don't need to and there are loads of people standing. Normally I'll silently stew and stare at them without saying anything, sometimes letting out an exasperated sigh. It's so stupid. Now I just ask the person to scoot over with a smile on my face. It's so much easier and takes way less effort than getting pissed in silence. Plus, it allows me to give the person the benefit of the doubt that maybe they just didn't realize how their packages were spilling over into the other seat. Maybe. I'm trying to be a more peaceful person. I'm trying to let my frustration with small things fall away. I'll let you know how it goes.

5. I had a minor breakdown today over the state of my current creative slump and my tendency to allow my job to be a priority over any effort made on my own behalf. I got very angry with myself for not taking the class I wanted to take in the Fall because work was busy. Work will always be busy. There will never be a "right time". I have to start treating myself better. Excuses can kiss my ass.

6. Our networks and systems were all screwed at work on Wednesday afternoon and I knew I'd get super frustrated if I stayed and tried to work (I'd type a sentence and 15 mins later the words would show up on the screen - it was super bad)... so I went to the Manhattan Mall (dicey little mall in midtown) and tried on sparkly, slutty dresses in the cheapo stores for about an hour just for fun. It was hilarious. I looked like a huge, shiny sausage in all of them and I loved it. I had a blast.

7. MT & I have passes to go see an advanced screening of Sweeny Todd next week. SO EXCITED! Johhny Depp in one of the most fabulous musicals ever. It's gonna be the tits!

How old am I?

You know how you can tell you're a little too old for younger-type shenanigans? Hangovers. Bad ones. That's how you can tell.

Friday night I went for a beer with friends after work. We're all trying to figure out how we're going to deal when the office closes, so a little camaraderie is a good thing. We go for beers, I have a few... a few big ones. Cold, Polish beer is really tasty and the large, chatty group was into hanging around until at least round 3.

I leave after the third, head back to Brooklyn to meet MT for dinner at our new favorite little French bistro not far from our house. When I get there he has a bottle of Cotes du Rhone waiting. It's cold outside. Really cold. In the 30s. Perfect red wine weather (as if you need a weather permissive state to imbibe in the wonders of red wine). We have a glass, order our meals, Philippe, the owner, chats it up with us a bit.

Dinner was delicious, as it always is at this particular place. Dinner was so good, in fact, that I didn't notice the first time Philippe came over and filled my glass from the bottle he had opened after MT and I finished ours. That first pour from the second bottle turned into a second pour, and you really can't stop a Frenchman when he wants to pour the wine. It's like trying to stop a flood with your little finger. Just not happening.

All said and done, I had the beers before dinner, split the first bottle of wine with MT, had at least another 2 glasses from Philippe... and woke up Saturday morning feeling like hot death with a side of oww. It was bad. Apparently I called Kristie when we got home after dinner and talked her ear off for a few minutes before telling her I had to go because I was going to throw up. Yeah, I don't remember the throwing up part at all (counting my blessings on that one). We had to get up early to help a friend move Saturday morning, and when we got to her place she took one look at me, just put her arms around me and said reassuringly, "Aww, Melissa, it'll be OK."

Yes, it will be OK. It will definitely be OK because I am never getting that drunk again in my life. I know my 30 year old limits.

The perfect footnote to this tale is that the very next night we stopped by the bistro to take a poster to Philippe (he's hanging it in the dining room) and what happened when we walked in the door? He hugged us and promptly asked his wife, Marie, to pour us a couple glasses of red. Ah, the French.