dare me?

happy (early) halloween!

photo dump! yayyy...

saturday

happiness
 

the source of happiness

the aftermath of happiness

meriel as a corpse

yayy gifts!!

weird-looking rice balls for dinner

 

friday

alex trebek!
 

joycie!!!

meriel as cinderella...

joyce and me as asian tourists...

and wannabe mary poppins. can you tell that's our roof?

dorky tidbit from dj...

http://aimediaserver.com/studiodaily/videoplayer/?src=harvard/harvard.swf&width=640&height=520

have you ever been blown away by your parents' love?

i
was tired and irritated today after a long day at work, and 'fessing up
to my father my innate desire to spend every penny of the hefty
allowance they give us for dinner as an incentive to stay past 8.
he laughed - "you youngsters, always trying to cheat the small stuff-"
(at which i attempted to explain why we're really very entitled to our fancy dinners...)
"it's
ok, you're new to the corporate world. you know, i was the same way, do
you remember when i used to go on business trips and i would bring you
and alvin souveniers?"
(i did.)
"the
company always gave me a $15 allowance for dinner...and i would eat at
McDonalds and save up the money so i could get you two a little
something. off the record of course."

just like that. with a warm casual laugh, he destroyed my heart.

true
and unconditional love is like that...not airy or exhiliarating like
the superficial thrillride that is romantic infatuation, but so heavy
it suffocates you. the idea of my father eating two to three nights of
cheap fast food to get us (i still remember!) the pretty plastic rulers
that said Colorado, little paper plane model kits that we hoarded under
our beds - while years later, at just 22 years old, i'm complaining
about eating a pesto mozarella sandwich instead of a filet mignon - is
a dull and aching pain that puts everything into perspective, viscous
like the heavy sea that fills your lungs with the burden of merciness
awareness until you drown.

in the aftermath, it's difficult to
have your life back. at the bottom of the sea, you'll finally realize
see it as what it really is; a cheaply scintillating piece of flotsam
floating above in the pneumatically weightless real world...delightful,
passing, completely inconsequential.

fabulous day out today...the rain stopped just in time to bless our inaugural roommate getting-decked-out outing.

waking up at a pleasant 11:35 am after a night out in the town mooching off of the firm's open tab, we got dressed up and walked out only to find, lo and behold, a street fair on lexington! a crepe and two sumptuous gyros later, we were treated to la boheme (t'was good, but the amurrcan in me likes rent better.)

then trooping to herald sq, home of the shoppers, we made rounds at forever21 and H&M, two stores i had sworn off in 7th grade but today discovered yield some great stuff still if you're willing to do some digging (or, settle and overlook the somewhat demeaning polyester feel). conquest: two dresses, both of which i have absolutely no occassion to wear (i want to go to an art gallery opening, dammit.)

then downtown to The Coffee Shop (that diner featured perpetually in sex in the city) at Union Sq, where we dined on not-so-overpriced brazilian-american cuisine. after which we all craved cupcakes, but, alas, buttercup on 2nd ave was closed so we dined on the supermarket version instead. which was still absolutely scrumptuous.

oh, a day in the life...and many more (hopefully) to come. there hasn't been a day that i regretted moving out to the city.

bentobox sushi: did i tell u i have a big ass blister on my hand?
wyndaengel: mmhm
wyndaengel: and like i said
wyndaengel: you're lucky it's not on your nose
bentobox sushi: hahaha
bentobox sushi: hon it hurts
wyndaengel: yes but it if was on your nose...
wyndaengel: it wouldn't just hurt
wyndaengel: it would be embarrassing!!
bentobox sushi: how do u get blisters on ur nose?
wyndaengel: by rubbing it against things
wyndaengel: like people in the subway
wyndaengel: or random tires
bentobox sushi: .....
bentobox sushi: is that possible?
wyndaengel: or maybe you wear a designer nose shoe

snapshot of a week

monday
10:34 am: first day at work. bright-eyed and bushy-tailed
11:04 am: meeting with staffer, assures me will be free for rest of week
12:14 pm: staffed.
1:32 pm: call from associate partner
1:46 pm: debrief with associate partner
3:00 pm: first deadline. need to a. call research department b. sort through five excel sheets c. compile four slides
3:31 pm: call with manager in london
4:23 pm: call with MD in New York
5:30 pm: meeting with associate partner to present progress
6:15 pm: sent back to completely redo slides
7:04 pm: send slides to visual production
8:32 pm: slides back. amazing!
9:15 pm: send slides to associate partner for revision

tuesday
8:45 am: conference call
9:37 am: begin doing research mentioned during conference call
10:15 am: receive research department request back (2dnd 5 page excel sheet)
noon: absolutely exhausted and terribly hungry
1:36 pm: email slides to partner
2:03 pm: irate call from partner about quality of slides
4:01 pm: finished redoing slides
4:15 pm: conference call at 4:30 rescheduled for 8:30 pm
4:45 pm: two emails containing 3 75-page analyst reports and a 64 page ppt to go through
5:31 pm: summary slides of analyst reports finally done
6:00 pm: meeting with visual production
7:00 pm: associate partner's office for 2nd conference call
8:30 pm: first time ordering from seamlessweb.com
8:34 pm: 3rd conference call
9:15 pm: google searches to investigate info from 2nd conference call
10:14 pm: first meal of the day
10:40 pm: send revised 18 slides to MD and associate partner
11:30 pm: at insistance of officemate, finally take off for home

wed-thurs along similar vein

friday
4:34 am: partner from brussels sends urgent email to blackberry requesting finished ppt presentation by 9am, thus waking up in a cold sweat
6:45 am: report to office, begin finishing long ppt
7:30 am: computer shuts down
8:50 am: after hour of cold panic/waiting for computer to reboot
9:06: am: almost done with all 18 slides damn it
9:07 am: sent to MD for proofing
9:10 am: received final version back from MD, forward to doctor
9:31 am: team meeting
10:15 am: urgent blackberry messages left unanswered re: call at 11
11:04 am: scurry back down to office for conference call
11:05 am: despite worry, is first person on call
11:11 am: speaking with two partners
11:36 am: conference call concludes
11:45 am: meeting with 2nd year BA for lunch
12:31 pm: finished with lunch
2:31 pm: team meeting
3:35 pm: back to office for work
7:05 pm: report to partners office
7:35 pm: finish debrief
8:10 pm: leave office
8:32 pm: meeting at bar for drinks
9:10 pm: meeting at apartment to regroup
10:35 pm: leaving for house party
11:45 pm: from house party to club
12:15 pm: clubbing
3:05 am: exhausted, climb into taxi
4:05 am: write xanga

notoriously missing: lunch, dinner breaks

am i a mankiller?

in response to random comment made last night o_O i dunno...you tell me! i always thought mankillers were either superskinny supertall superscary asian girls dressed in all-black bebe outfits, or butch lesbians in leather boots and dog collars, but apparently the definition isn't as limiting as i presumed...

been feeling very little nowadays except a dull fatigue. is it just me getting old? it's not like i'm working long hours or anything.

cakeeeee....

my new obsession: gourmet cupcakes. last week teresa and i went to dylan's in midtown and scarfed down a beautiful buttery thing with a dreamy chocolate center, topped with a smothering of textured white happiness and a chunk of chocolate chip cookie. here's the article par excellance that got me started:

Cupcake Nation

BY JOEL STEIN

Posted Sunday, Aug. 20, 2006

There's nothing inherently wrong with the cupcake. Just like there's nothing inherently wrong in the Koran. But our society's twisting of the cupcake's role has become a sickness. They've paved the local bakery and put up a $3 cupcake store. Not only has the cupcake specialty boutique spread like a contagion to nearly every major city in the country, but nearly a dozen cupcake-recipe books have come out in the past two years, which is particularly amazing when you consider that, not counting dye, there are only about seven ingredients in a cupcake.

Patient zero was Magnolia, a tiny, retro bakery in New York City's West Village, which, in 1996, had some extra batter and made a dozen cupcakes. Soon Magnolia had to institute a limit on cupcakes per customer. Then Sarah Jessica Parker, who lived nearby, put her local phenomenon on Sex and the City, leading tour buses to stop there. At the admittedly delicious Sprinkles in Los Angeles, which Oprah declared her favorite cupcake after getting a box from Barbra Streisand, the line on weekends is more than half an hour long. Which, yes, is longer than it takes to bake a cupcake.

I totally get it. As a kid, my heart pumped in anticipation of a classmate's birthday and the inevitable arrival of that wide, low pink box. I'd pick away at the frosted top, then collect the remaining pure cake in both hands, eating out of my palms like a crazed bird on a sugar high. And when no one was looking, I'd shove the paper in my mouth and chew it like cupcake gum. Even now I like an occasional chai latte--flavored Sprinkles cupcake, just as I appreciate a great burger or mac and cheese. The problem is that in the yuppie-under-40 set, there are no other desserts. Just a constant weighing and comparing and blogging about the nation's cupcakeries, as if they were the Goldberg Variations.

To my shock, Michelle Myers--who trained at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris, runs the patisserie Boule in Los Angeles and makes some of the best canelés and Parisian macaroons in the U.S.--approves of cupcake mania. "It crossed our minds that we put a lot of expensive ingredients and skilled technique into making canelés, and they're the same price as cupcakes," she says of what artisanal bakeries have discovered is the most profitable dessert not made by Hostess. But Myers also loves being transported to her childhood via the American madeleine. She not only buys cupcakes but also bakes them on weekends for her little sister.

Candace Nelson, who co-owns Sprinkles with her husband, opened a second Los Angeles location last week and plans to go national. "These are scary times. That's when people crave comfort food," says the former investment banker. "That's why I went into the cupcake business. I'm in this little cupcake bubble where everyone is smiling ear to ear."

That's what bugs me about cupcakes: they're fake happiness, wrought in Wonka unfood colors. They appeal to the same unadventurous instincts that drive adults to read Harry Potter and watch Finding Nemo without a kid in the room. They're small and safe, and so people convince themselves that they can't have that many calories. They are the dessert of a civilization in decline. The worst part is, I want a cupcake right now but bad.



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in other news, this is just gross: