Vinegar Removes Salt Stains

A pride of cats. A pack of wolves. A herd of deer. I've learned a few things lately. Upon entering the mini-park near my parents' house, A. spied a herd of deer. Not one, not two, not ten, but more than five. Of course she was off-leash and for a solid few seconds she moved fast, as fast as a butterball shape or keg-with-feet, really, can move. And the deer stood still then turned, galloped back into the forest on their ridiculously long, spindly legs.

I did my usual high pitched shrill yell, passed down from millions of generations of pissed off Jewish women who have found various portions of their homes destroyed by children and spouses: a broken tile, a cracked window.

Lucky for us, A. stopped mid-run. She is an excellent listener. My dad and I were pleased. That incident has been about the most excitement my heart has had in months. Here is a brief run down of recent events/thoughts though:

1) I have gone on 5 consecutive dates with the same man. Including New Year's Eve. Mazel tov! I like him, but I don't know if I like-like him. He is Israeli but after all my kavetching, I'm not sure if I'm ready to wear his pin, or does he wear my pin? I don't remember.

2) I have three apartment options come February, when it rains, sometimes it just rains all day (Portland version). One option came from my hair stylist. See? It always pays to get your hair done nice. And now, mine is back to a chestnut brunette instead of fly-girl orange. And as B. said, when you put out the feelers...

3) Very little to no job options based in NYC. This is annoying, frustrating, embarrassing, depressing, and I'm hoping a part of the learning/growing theme of this blog entry. When I'm wildly successful, perhaps this experience will help add to my character & spirit and I'll look back on it and say, "Gee, remember when nobody wanted to hire me and now look at me? Look at me! Towel boy? Would you refresh my Amaretto Sour please? And two maraschino cherries this time. Chop. Chop."

I'm picturing Sunset Blvd, Gloria Swanson.

FYI-

One of the highlights of the move was my stay in Ft. Greene Brooklyn for five days. Listen, I know horrible things happened during this blizzard but for me, it was my first time alone in months. MY FIRST TIME ALONE IN MONTHS. A shangri-la. And when my brother called to say they'd be a day late because their flight was delayed in the midwest? I did my best not to break out in song and dance until after I hung up, then flung myself wildly upon various pieces of furniture and rolled around. Of course I missed my dog, but that meant I could watch the next 13-30 episodes of In Treatment.

That one night I ventured out was a mistake. An old colleague and friend generously offered to meet me at No. 7 (restaurant). Brave lady. From my brother's apartment it's a mere 4 block walk but she had to take the subway from Atlantic Center. I certainly did not have all my snow gear, to which my brother told me later - that's the survivor's first move? Look through the stuff in the apartment? Everyone knows that.

I did not. And by the time I arrived at the restaurant my glasses were snowed over, the ends of my hair dripping wet and my toe tips, numb. My Calvin Klein leather boots had acquired ugly, little trills of white salt stain lines that would only worsen in the next few days. Later, I would learn: vinegar removes salt stains....as my dad would say, like a charm. Or in Bronx-accent speak, chahm.

Anyway, I asked the people outside, smoking under the scaffolding, where I am? They laughed at me. Then with me. Inside, with the heat on full blast, my glasses steamed immediately. Eye-wear was useless! Why had I never had my eyeballs operated upon? But no, I couldn't do it! Plus, everything was a lovely, dimly lit ball of color. How beautiful the world is when you can't see the edges! Oh, there was my friend at the bar at least it looked like her: her sleek, black hair in two perfect, glossy, straight stripes, her red sweater looking ironed, and her coat...dry! How did she pull that off?

We ate...what did we eat? I remember fried broccoli. Yum! I remember red wine. I remember walking home alone in that snow, the wind smacking against my face. I remember it was dark. I was wearing my mother's cool looking, 25 year old leather, unlined driving gloves. My old, crappy, plaid, thin scarf that I bought in Soho on the street maybe a decade ago - I'd draped it across my face. Useless. The only thing I wore that was helpful was, as an NYC lady can tell you...my puffy coat! Like wearing a down comforter with arms cut out. Also, something I bought on the street, only in Chinatown.

The wind was so strong that by the time I made it to the front door of the brownstone (after heisting my body weight up the snow-filled stairs, clutching at the banister, picture a crazy angle, like my upper torso because of the wind, leaning back, while my legs are inching forward), I was out of breath. In fact, on the street, my breath caught several times, trapped in my chest. My hands were pink, near red, shaking, shivering cold and because of that, it took a long time to locate the key and actually get the key in the lock.

Once I got in the first door, there was a second door requiring a different key. And once I got through those two doors, there was a flight of stairs, and yet another door, the front door to the apartment, which needed another key. Procured!

Once inside, I'd tell people it wasn't so bad, really, it was sort of beautiful.