Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home

Holla at a sista - who's got the fever for the flavor spring? Doesn't this weather just make you want to go and frolic in the park? get a pedicure? get laid? umm... we mean... oh screw it, we meant get laid.

the mood swing over here has brought your VTB editors into the Tigger column, which considering how Eeyorish we've felt lately, we're not complaining. During an unbelievable meal with Mrs. Robinson on Sunday night, we were pointed towards some very good reasons to stay put here in New York. During a short graduation ceremony yesterday we were surrounded by true friends and family. During a long phone conversation last night we were reminded of the simple fact that she-who-shall-not-be-named doesn't deserve us anyway.

Instead some things that are making us smile these days:

• Only 4 Days until Opening Day...
• Saturday night - Karaoke + Sparks = Trouble
• NYPD officers on Boats (or one in particular, but still)
• The new Radiohead jam "Arpeggi" - get it here [via stereogum and g.fiddle]
• A Week and a Half of Freedom
• The New Cycle of ANTM, this show keeps getting better and better
• Twins with the last name Levine, one who dreamt of being a moyel, the other a cow
• Being able to go out for some happy hour margaritas with the ladies this evening.

oh and of course the weather.

shake it off

I want a mulligan on my birthday, as it was the:

worst.
birthday.
ever.

why, you ask? (or maybe you didn't, but its my blog and i'll whine if i want to). Well for starters, there was the aforementioned contact from the ex (which by the way we're tired of calling her, so if you have a good idea on a nickname we'd love to hear it - eds.), the fact that my own mother didn't call me (how very 16 candles of her), the hail, and other assorted weird and unsavory things that continued throughout the 24 hours that was the 23rd.

That being said, I must thank all of you: old friends, new friends, site readers who I've never met, and friends that i thought i lost in the "divorce" for your well wishes and emails and drinks and cadbury's creme eggs that i received yesterday - they were lights in an extremely dark tunnel.

I resolve to consider my birthday the last day of a really horrible year (ok in all honesty the year wasn't all that bad save for those last 3 months, but hey, those have been crappy enough to negate any prior good). So today is officially the first day of a new year. It is also my last class in culinary school. Monday is my final exam. Tuesday I graduate. I begin my externship at Butter on the 11th. Change is afoot.

Happy Birthday To Me, sort of

since it is the celebration of the day of my birth, i find it totally acceptable to be completely self-absorbed. read on at your own risk, you've been warned.

in case you've forgotten, or by some strange course are new to this here site, normally i love my birthday, i like making a big deal about it and i enjoy any good reason to celebrate, and really, what's better than celebrating yourself. this year though, i haven't really been looking forward to the day, knowing full well that the echoes of the break-up would greatly affect my celebratory mood.

boy, i couldn't have been more correct about that. i knew that if i heard from her i'd be upset. i knew that if i didn't hear from her i'd be upset. it was a lose-lose situation and as you may have guessed, i lost. when i opened my email this morning there was one from her, wishing me birthday greetings. telling me that she's thinking about me today.

except, that obviously, she's not celebrating with me, and is the main reason for why I don't feel like celebrating at all. does it really matter that she hopes I have a good birthday when its already been ruined?

if only i don't bend and break, i'll see you on the other side...

In March the wind blows down the door
And spills my soup upon the floor
It laps it up and roars for more
Blowing once, blowing twice
Blowing chicken soup with rice

yep, pretty much how I'm feeling today, that the wind has blown down my door and spilled that soup...

first of all you fickle fickle NCAA tournament, you treated me so well yesterday morning, only to shatter my hopes of making some extra cash this month.

and now, its happening, as of today i will no longer have a couch in my apartment. you know, that couch that I paid for half of. when i get home tonight it will be gone. leaving me nowhere to sit in the living room but the floor.

is April here yet?

in other news, im doing a trail tonight at Butter. If it goes well, I'll be doing my externship there. Wish me luck, with the way things have been going I could really use it.

The Big Book of British Smiles

thanks to L to the R, I had quite possibly the best. night. in a long time. (i would say ever, but there was this one time... well you don't need to hear about that)

It all started with an innocent IM in the middle of the Day that informed me that we were going to see Doves at Bowery, on the list courtesy of her friend, lets call him J, who is the publisher of a music magazine that shall remain nameless. Freakin A, I love doves! I am so all about this... except I have class, so now its all about hoping and praying that I get out of class early. Thanks to the gods of BritPop, I learned how to make sushi in record time and was dismissed from class a good HOUR earlier than normal.

After slamming possibly the worst drink i've ever swallowed (vodka and lemonade? sounds like it should be decent, tastes like crap), we headed over to Bowery where J promptly met us and fed us with our first free drink of the night. Nice Guy, cute shoes.

And then those brit boys took the stage and played a tight, kickass live show, the likes of which I haven't seen since Interpol back at Roseland last year. mmm goodness. more drinks. J tries to convince us that we need to fly down to austin tomorrow for good ole SXSW, which in a heartbeat I would've done if I wasn't chained to my stupid desk job. Some brit boy who is being inappropriately cuddly with his ladyfriend tells us to shut up and to listen to the music. LtotheR reminds him that we can both talk AND listen, seeing as how we have the ability to mutitask. He gawks and continues to pet his woman. Doves continue to kick ass.

Show ends, we make our way downstairs for some post-show drinkage until we're escorted upstairs where Jimi, with a little bit of a cold, kindly offers me a Corona. These boys are my new loves. J and I discuss my dislike for one of his writers, who will soon no longer be writing for him, somehow I wind up on the phone with her. Unfortunately, I'm not blasted enough to say anything more than, "Dont really have any idea as to why i'm talking to you now" before I hand the phone back over. Discuss the merits of English Football with the band's manager, he's a ManCity fan (unsurprising as they're manchester boys), I'm a Spurs girl. What can you do?

But alas, like all good things, it was time for our night to come to an end... and not because I had an early flight to austin. It is official though, the FESTIVAL is in full swing.

By the Bye :

Apparenty I'm not the only one who loves McFly, from what i hear, the Lohan has followed suit

Remember Really Rosie? [I used to run around the house singing Chicken Soup with Rice]... Well, all I have to say is, really, Rosie - why so angry? [link via trent ]

I can't decide whether or not I liked the first episode of Fat Actress. All I know is that every 5 minutes or so I found myself saying out loud, "My god that is one huge ass". Is that wrong of me?

Speaking of Showtime, I might have to rescind all the trash I talked about the L Word last year. That Sarah Shahi is Hott! Yowsa!

man and this weather is killing me. with my brain officially frozen, all i'm capable of doing is singing that Winnie the Pooh song...

And Nobody
Knows-tiddley-pom,
How cold my
Toes-tiddley-pom
Are Growing.

Riddle me this Batman

so, I just walked 5 blocks up first avenue, as I do, about 16 times a day and the wind was blowing snow directly into my eyes. Could someone please explain to me how on the return trip the wind was blowing snow directly into my eyes also? Damned stupid March lions...

The house "rewarming" was amazing - except for the part where two of my cd towers came crashing to the ground spilling hundreds of discs everywhere. Good news is noone got hurt. Thanks to some incredible friends of mine i now have a fancypants french press for my morning coffee, a new teapot, a full set of pyrex, some gorgeous new wine glasses, a full bar set up, the most beautiful pewter measuring cups from here , Replacement toe-nail clippers, a plant that is living but is impossible for me to kill, a paper shredder (which metaphorically, kicks some major ass), an indoor herb garden, and a restored faith in both humanity and the fact that i truly am an unbelievably lucky human being.

Today I had my first cadbury creme egg of the season. Can't get enough of that liquid crack center. Friday I'm going to see Emeril (BAM!) and am having dinner with a friend I ran into on Saturday that I hadn't seen in 5 years. Things are starting to come up Milhouse.

The Facts of Life

The Good:

• The private chefing world is knocking down my door. I got hired to bake a birthday cake for a party on Saturday. All I have to say is getting paid $100 for a cake - totally kickass! Clearly cake is the new pie!!
• I was interviewed by a reporter on what it's like to be a foodie in culinary school. Will appear in an article on March 14th. The newspaper? This one.
• On the day job front, have an interview at the end of next week for a gig here in the NYC. Oh also it'll pay me more than I'm currently making and i get three times the amount of vacation.
• The house "rewarming" party that my co-workers are throwing me is on Sunday. Brunch and good friends - what more could a girl want?

The Bad:

• I have injured my foot somehow - improper footwear, too many hours on my feet, walking miles with 45lbs on my back, yadda, yadda, yadda. From what I've been told, I may need surgery. Crutches. Again. This has to stop.
• Today is March 3rd. Usually this means that I am already knee deep in the Festival of Andrea, planning many nights of debauchery (some involving strippers), eating my fair share of cadbury's creme eggs, winding up in my bed unclear as to how i got there, and having a all around sense of excitement and celebration, but alas this year it is just not so. I am yet to even have one creme egg, and given the general state of malaise that overcomes me when i have more than 5 minutes to myself, it seems hard to muster up the necessary exuberance it takes to be a full participant in the bacchinalia. It seems as though this years festival will be much like Field Day. And I'm considering my birthday this year a total wash.
• I only have 14 more classes until I begin my externship for school. I am yet to decide where I am going to do said externship. Decisions are not my strong suit
• The job that I will be interviewing for is not the original position I applied for. Wondering whether this is still a position I want. Also, an interview is by no means a job offer. I know there's something here about carts and horses and the order in which they should go.
• Turns out that included in the list of things gone from the apartment are both the coffee pot (expected, it was hers) and the tea kettle (unclear as to who's it was). Coffee and Tea will be sorely missed at Sunday's brunch.

The Ugly:

• Mary Kate's back in rehab