<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764</id><updated>2011-08-01T19:49:46.759-04:00</updated><category term='breakup songs'/><category term='food processor'/><category term='soup'/><category term='nursing'/><category term='thankful'/><category term='Target'/><category term='New York City'/><category term='awesomely bad tv'/><category term='Top 5 lists'/><category term='Wii'/><category term='shopping'/><category term='party'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='immersion blender'/><category term='snickerdoodles'/><category term='Tom Cruise'/><category term='Red coat'/><category term='names for inanimate objects'/><category term='food'/><category term='holidays'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='karaoke'/><category term='marriage proposal'/><category term='cat'/><category term='snow'/><category term='Soup Maestro'/><category term='Marta'/><title type='text'>30 is the New 20</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>31</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1956019588643473025</id><published>2010-09-15T00:51:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-15T00:58:47.135-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I love New York in 100 words or less...</title><content type='html'>Plan for the day: walk to Brooklyn Bridge and see the Statue of Liberty.&lt;br /&gt;Accomplished today: walked Brooklyn Bridge, saw G&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSKm3QhSI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mg4lRCv68ew/s1600/bridge"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;round Zero, ate at Whole Foods, walked through Battery Park City and Battery Park (officially my favorite place in NYC, view is breathtaking), rode State Island Ferry, stared at the water for a long time, wandered Wall Street, checked out city from a rooftop, hung out with a great friend, and had yummy yummy dinner in Brooklyn. All you could ask for in a day and more.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSKm3QhSI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mg4lRCv68ew/s1600/bridge"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSKm3QhSI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mg4lRCv68ew/s200/bridge" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516999885713343778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSK-Bf4pI/AAAAAAAAAOI/shOuq48ElN0/s1600/green+lady"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSK-Bf4pI/AAAAAAAAAOI/shOuq48ElN0/s200/green+lady" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516999891930309266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1956019588643473025?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1956019588643473025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-i-love-new-york-in-100-words-or.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1956019588643473025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1956019588643473025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/09/why-i-love-new-york-in-100-words-or.html' title='Why I love New York in 100 words or less...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/TJBSKm3QhSI/AAAAAAAAAOA/Mg4lRCv68ew/s72-c/bridge' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-8782446328066252940</id><published>2010-09-14T11:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T12:10:46.377-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>So.... yeah, long time no post again. So much has been happening and I keep thinking I need to go back and blog it, and then I don't, and the avalanche of things to post gets bigger and bigger. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's new with me (in my favorite list format, of course):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) work, work, work. I am getting much more comfortable in my nursing role and have found a happy working ground with my boss, a major feat if you've ever heard any of my work stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I'm applying to the Army Nurse Corps. Many of you probably already know that, but my application is really moving forward now. I have my military physical at West Point at 0800 tomorrow morning, which should be a trip. I'm still weighing the pros and cons of this decision, but thankfully I don't have to commit to anything for another several months. The super plus side: active duty military travels the world for pretty cheap. Anyone up for a round-the-world adventure?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Travel, lots of travel. So far in 2010 I have been to Seattle, Portland, Italy, upstate New York/New Jersey, and Arizona. This weekend I'm heading up to Vermont and possibly New Hampshire and Maine, which I'm really excited about! I've hit I think 29 out of 50 states so far, and by next week hopefully that total will be somewhere between 30 and 32. Plus, there's nothing like New England in fall, so it should be a gorgeous drive. I'm crossing my fingers for a Thanksgiving weekend trip to the Caribbean as well, but we'll see if time/money allow. And the year's not over yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I got a tattoo. I've been chewing on this idea for a year now, and finally decided it was worth it to have ink in my skin forever. The design is my own and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. There's a big long emotional story behind it all, but it's boring to everyone but me, so I'll settle with I have a pretty flower on my wrist. It's colored like Fruit Loops right now, awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life gets more interesting every day. I am keeping busy with all kinds of new adventures, hopefully I'll be better about getting a few of them up here every once in a while. Love you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-8782446328066252940?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/8782446328066252940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/09/updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8782446328066252940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8782446328066252940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/09/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1963712267036886743</id><published>2010-07-02T04:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T04:35:37.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been way too long!</title><content type='html'>I know, I've been way too lax in updating the blog lately. Most of my loyal readers (all 7 of you...) already know what's been happening in my crazy, busy life, but I suppose an electronic update is far overdue. So here's the recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I moved to Brooklyn. My friends Gennie and Sue have been sharing an apartment for 2 years, and as Gennie just vacated her room for cohabitation with her BF, I found myself taking her room and roommate as my own. It's been good. I LOVE Brooklyn. (Gennie, if you're reading this, I don't want to hear any I-told-you-sos)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I got a bike. The day after I moved to Brooklyn. I LOVE my bike. I forgot how great it feels to pedal around with the wind on my face and just bask in the sun and love the city. Awesome. Also part of why I love Brooklyn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I went to Italy. Top position on my "bucket list" was to see Florence. Check. What an amazing country! I spent a week traveling Italy alone and with random newly-made friends. I squeezed in Rome, Florence, and Ischia in one week. Breathtaking, awe-inspiring, speechless. That's what I have to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm visiting Seattle again, 2 months after my last visit. So far I've been able to spend time with some of the most amazing family ever, hung out at Lake Chelan, visited my best friend in Portland, and had (so far) 2 dates with the hot guy previously mentioned. Looking forward to a long 4th of July weekend ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I owe details on all of that, but it's 1:30am and I'm toast. So more to follow soon, I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1963712267036886743?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1963712267036886743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-been-way-too-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1963712267036886743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1963712267036886743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-been-way-too-long.html' title='It&apos;s been way too long!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-2104493718683896318</id><published>2010-04-06T02:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T04:11:44.591-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a date!!!</title><content type='html'>I have had a super crush on the once-upon-a-time guy next door for what feels like forever and a day. When I lived in Lynnwood umpteen million years ago we danced around hanging out for a while, but I was always in a complicated mess with that someone else. So it never managed to go anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, however, I went to say hi to Mr. Cute Guy for probably the first time in 4 years, and it was like picking up right where we left off. There was some casual flirting, a lot of stupid grinning, and relatively easy conversation. But we never made any plans for anything else. Which makes sense, since I live in NYC, not Lynnwood. But darn it, it's time I got to go out for real, with no extra attachments. With a super cute guy who makes me smile just thinking about. So this evening I went back over there and asked a boy out to dinner for the first time ever. Totally embarrassing, but it worked! And now, after I don't know how long of waiting, I have a date for this week!&lt;br /&gt;And the nerves are totally kicking in. Here's hoping I have some tiny idea of what to do on a first date, with a guy I've liked for a long time and now live a continent away from! Wish me luck, I just might need it! He's so cute I get a little tongue-tied. And he looks an awful lot like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S7rYa3eW1AI/AAAAAAAAANw/9sNVQFeozWM/s1600/MichaelVartan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S7rYa3eW1AI/AAAAAAAAANw/9sNVQFeozWM/s200/MichaelVartan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456911854592250882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*post-date update: holy crap, that was one amazing evening! not a crazy romantic kind of date, but very comfortable and (mostly) easy. we had dinner on the waterfront, walked on the beach, then took his dog for an hour+ long walk. we chatted comfortably, and it was really nice! too bad for the 3000 miles. and the goodbye *hug*, which was very gentlemanly and a little less than I'd hoped for. but what more can I ask for from an evening. and now I'm going to go to bed grinning!*&lt;img src="file:///Users/lisatisch/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-2104493718683896318?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2104493718683896318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-have-date.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2104493718683896318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2104493718683896318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-have-date.html' title='I have a date!!!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S7rYa3eW1AI/AAAAAAAAANw/9sNVQFeozWM/s72-c/MichaelVartan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4817779992482244369</id><published>2010-03-26T00:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T00:14:52.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Free at last!</title><content type='html'>Today was the last day of my Nurse Residency program! Nurse residency is the one-year orientation program new nurses go through to get up to speed and get support in learning the trade. Well, that's what it's supposed to mean anyway. Overcoming this one year mark, intact, means one thing: I'm free!!!&lt;br /&gt;I've worked all kinds of jobs in my life, from waiting tables and tending bar, to retail sales, to accounting, to research science and databasing, to hand hygiene observations, and a lot of other fun stuff in between. But none of those jobs has been nearly as crazy as the one I have now as a nurse. Quite possibly none of them have been nearly as rewarding and fulfilling, either, but definitely not as crazy. In any given work day, I'm a medication pusher, nagger, waitress, therapist, physical therapist, social worker, nutritionist, diagnostician, housekeeper, secretary and confidante. That's being a nurse. It's quite a job. Made that much more intense by the environment in which I work, which is chaotic on a good day, terrifyingly awful and abusive on a bad day.&lt;br /&gt;I've been really torn about how I want to shape my career once I hit this point, and frankly I still am. But today marked the point where I get to really make that choice, instead of just dreaming about it. Freedom means I can go do anything I could possibly want to do, like Labor &amp;amp; Delivery or Pediatrics. But it also means I could stay right where I am and enjoy the relationships I've fought long and hard to build and the respect I've developed, because I want to and not because I have to. It's amazingly freeing to know the choice is in my hands now! For all the days I'm stuck in the boss' office being reminded of all my flaws, over and over again, it's good to know I can tolerate it as a learning experience, or get the heck out of Dodge. Funny how even the worst of situations can be tolerable when I know it's for me and not for anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;So I have some thinking to do in the next few weeks. So many choices! Wish me luck!! And feel free to weigh in if you have any sage words of wisdom...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4817779992482244369?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4817779992482244369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/free-at-last.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4817779992482244369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4817779992482244369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/free-at-last.html' title='Free at last!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4364536329954841112</id><published>2010-03-25T02:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T02:26:42.837-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How did I get here?</title><content type='html'>Today, March 24th, 2010 I did something I can honestly say I never thought I would do. And I've done a lot of random, weird things in my life (including the mechanical bull riding from earlier this week). But today might be the winner. Because today I gave and received a lap dance. Yes, a lap dance. I'm pretty sure that fun class I take every Wednesday was meant for exercise, but apparently it's also for learning bizarre new tricks in life. And I gotta tell you, they aren't easy to do. Particularly when the girl in the chair is a complete stranger and you're embarrassed out of your mind.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, when did this become my life??? Not that I'm complaining, I'm really not. It's a pretty good life. But for those of you who knew me a decade or more ago, how did I get here? It's sure been a crazy ride. On the plus side, I'm pretty sure I can do just about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt; now. Yay for being multi-talented...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4364536329954841112?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4364536329954841112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/how-did-i-get-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4364536329954841112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4364536329954841112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/how-did-i-get-here.html' title='How did I get here?'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1911616534411959807</id><published>2010-03-24T21:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T21:25:13.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The best things in life are free...</title><content type='html'>...like the first real day of spring, walking in the rain, at night, soaking wet, surprisingly warm, and deliriously happy with it all.&lt;br /&gt;Funny how the best moments sneak up on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1911616534411959807?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1911616534411959807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/best-things-in-life-are-free.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1911616534411959807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1911616534411959807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/best-things-in-life-are-free.html' title='The best things in life are free...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1593883067113504924</id><published>2010-03-16T00:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T01:06:29.071-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nursing'/><title type='text'>Pity Party, Table for One</title><content type='html'>So here's a day in my life as a nurse.&lt;br /&gt;Today was my first day back at work after 8 blissful days of vacation. Guaranteed set-up for disaster. First, I couldn't sleep well last night, got about 4 hours of sleep, and got out the door late. Which then required I take a cab to work. Which got stuck in godawful traffic on Queens Blvd, and over the Queensboro Bridge, and all the way down 2nd Ave. Leaving me at work around 7:50am. Just enough time to grab a breakfast sandwich, get stuck in the slowest elevator ever, get onto my floor 5 minutes late, and never get to eat said breakfast sandwich. And to make matters worse, I was assigned to the post-op unit, all by myself, leaving me isolated from the rest of the floor and unable to go anywhere, get anything done, or most importantly, sneak bites of that breakfast sandwich. Did I mention it had bacon in it?? Serious setback to my day!&lt;br /&gt;So my morning was off to a rough start anyway, report took way too long, and I never made a dent in my charting before 2 out of 3 of my patients decided that oxygen was not a necessity for the day. Back to back, they both dropped their oxygen saturation from a very comfortable 95% to something more like 70%. Which sets off a horrific beeping on the monitor that could wake the dead, but apparently doesn't make people breathe any better. And requires a lot of intervening to make things all better.&lt;br /&gt;Hours later, after multiple breathing treatments, 8 million new orders, and a lot of hand holding, peace and quiet was finally restored to my little post-op world. But I still hadn't eaten, was shaking with hunger and frustration, and was last in the lineup for lunches. And at this point, it's still only 11:30am! Slowest. Day. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;I finally got to eat around 2:45pm, got no charting done and then got to go rounds with my favorite mean and nasty nurse practitioner about whether or not patients with dialysis catheters in the femoral vein can get out of bed (the answer is yes, apparently, although a little frightening to ponder). And my all-important charting? Got done at about 11pm, 3 hours after they stopped paying me for being in the building.&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, that was one eventful return to the world of nursing. But there were some silver lining moments: one patient told me I was pretty, one patient brought us all mini cupcakes from Crumbs (yum!), and all that hand-holding is what I went into this job for in the first place. So all in all not a terrible day's work. Good thing, since I have to do it all again in less than 7 hours...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1593883067113504924?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1593883067113504924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/pity-party-table-for-one.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1593883067113504924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1593883067113504924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/pity-party-table-for-one.html' title='Pity Party, Table for One'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1288026317442129742</id><published>2010-03-13T19:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T21:54:02.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Lesson in Humility</title><content type='html'>One of my biggest challenges in life has always been learning to laugh at myself. Not just giggle at my own jokes, or that sheepish smile when I invariably trip over my own feet. No, I need to learn to really laugh at my own ridiculousness. It's an ongoing process.&lt;br /&gt;This last week was a pretty good step in that direction. I'm on vacation this week, enjoying doing not much of anything, so going out can be an adventure in trying new clothes and makeup, etc. with all the free time I have. And going out I have been doing plenty of. One night in particular, I got all gussied up in my new bright blue skinny jeans, a brand new sparkly white top, and my smoking hot knee high boots to go to an art gallery opening. Mind you, I've never worn any of these things out of my house, much less on the subway or any other public place. They seem great to me, but what do I know when I only see glimpses in my little mirrors? But I put on a little extra makeup, wore my nice fuzzy black jacket, and hoped I was looking moderately presentable at least.&lt;br /&gt;As I got on the subway to head into Manhattan, I caught a couple of people look my way and thought "wow, must be looking ok tonight". No complaints about a little attention, right? But then a few more people looked my way, most of them smiling, and I started to get a little nervous. And then this stunningly gorgeous twenty-something blonde girl got on the subway across from me, blatantly eyed me up and down, and giggled a little as she made eye contact with me. She proceeded to then watch me out of the corner of her eye for the rest of the ride with a subtle smile on her face the whole time. Now, I have no complaints about being checked out, especially not by beautiful women, but at this point there are so many people looking over at me and smiling that all I can think is that somehow I've gotten something all over my face or my hair is standing straight up or my pants are blindingly bright blue, and they're all sharing a joke at my expense. So the rest of my ride was miserable, as I invented every possible bad reason people were laughing at me. So much for feeling pretty!&lt;br /&gt;I finally made it to the gallery and met up with my friend, feeling ridiculous and out of sorts. And she just smiled at me, gave me a hug, and didn't point out the enormous black smudge on my face, or the horns growing out of my head, or the "kick me" sign on my back. Because there was none of those things. Turns out, I really did just look good.&lt;br /&gt;I relate this not to stroke my own ego, but to finally get a good laugh at myself over the whole thing. I worked myself into such a dither about what could possibly be wrong with me that people were looking at me and smiling that I was tempted to curl in a ball and hide rather than face the ridicule! Only to find out that I'm the only one who took myself so seriously.&lt;br /&gt;Moral of this story: sometimes you just have to believe that you knew what you were doing when you left the house, so don't let other people or your own silly insecurities change your mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1288026317442129742?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1288026317442129742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/lesson-in-humility.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1288026317442129742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1288026317442129742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/lesson-in-humility.html' title='A Lesson in Humility'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-6770170417418392564</id><published>2010-03-07T17:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T17:52:23.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My new boyfriend</title><content type='html'>I've found the perfect new guy. His name's Funky. Funky Stuff Mallone.&lt;br /&gt;He loves to cuddle, gives good kisses, gets along with all of my friends.&lt;br /&gt;He makes me laugh, knows how to have a good time, and loves it when I spoil him rotten.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad he also makes me cry (when he bites, hard), lives with another woman (and man), and has godawful breath. But what else can you expect, really.&lt;br /&gt;He thinks he's cute enough to make up for all that, and he might be right.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr_hqXJhI/AAAAAAAAANY/J9yyUsV_Zyc/s1600-h/IMG_0822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr_hqXJhI/AAAAAAAAANY/J9yyUsV_Zyc/s200/IMG_0822.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446026219765573138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QsA-9feKI/AAAAAAAAANo/JB5EvYVgGcs/s1600-h/IMG_0876.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QsA-9feKI/AAAAAAAAANo/JB5EvYVgGcs/s200/IMG_0876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446026244810307746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His aunt Tanin and I decided recently that he would be a great tool for picking up guys in the park. But he's not allowed to walk on the city streets yet (something about ucky parasites and baby dogs) so we had to tote him along in a bag to Central Park. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QqzY5sewI/AAAAAAAAANA/apoOJENO_o4/s1600-h/IMG_0799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QqzY5sewI/AAAAAAAAANA/apoOJENO_o4/s200/IMG_0799.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446024911743908610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QsAK2HuaI/AAAAAAAAANg/O3PoP6qN2Dc/s1600-h/IMG_0814.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5QsAK2HuaI/AAAAAAAAANg/O3PoP6qN2Dc/s200/IMG_0814.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446026230820747682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr-83FUEI/AAAAAAAAANI/H3EUcNtQq-c/s1600-h/IMG_0808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr-83FUEI/AAAAAAAAANI/H3EUcNtQq-c/s200/IMG_0808.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446026209886818370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then to the Met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr_eD8qkI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Xl7m4pV548c/s1600-h/IMG_0818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr_eD8qkI/AAAAAAAAANQ/Xl7m4pV548c/s200/IMG_0818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446026218799147586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Where we successfully managed to pick up every middle-aged woman in the city. Hmmmm, we're going to have to work on his fetching skills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-6770170417418392564?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/6770170417418392564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-new-boyfriend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6770170417418392564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6770170417418392564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-new-boyfriend.html' title='My new boyfriend'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S5Qr_hqXJhI/AAAAAAAAANY/J9yyUsV_Zyc/s72-c/IMG_0822.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4054641605912198996</id><published>2010-02-26T06:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T23:58:02.655-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wii'/><title type='text'>Wiiiiiiii!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dTgRezNMI/AAAAAAAAAMI/zDE6uqqencY/s1600-h/IMG_0839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dTgRezNMI/AAAAAAAAAMI/zDE6uqqencY/s200/IMG_0839.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442410488614040770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Sam was very good to me this year. Rare, I know, but it does happen. So I splurged a little (read: A LOT!) and bought myself this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS51DFQsI/AAAAAAAAALw/YfnFTSPB2Fk/s1600-h/IMG_0838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS51DFQsI/AAAAAAAAALw/YfnFTSPB2Fk/s200/IMG_0838.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442409828146561730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's right, I caved and got a video game console. Something I pretty much swore I'd never do. But hey, it's totally the perfect toy for a 20-something, isn't it?? (*wink*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been avoiding the gym for months and months now, not because I don't like working out, but because I really dread dragging myself to the gym. The process makes me a little crazy, and I don't feel good about it until I've been on the treadmill for a good 5 minutes. Which is a big deterrent since it takes about an hour to get to the gym where my trainer works. So why not bring the workout to me! And that's where the Wii Fit Plus comes in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS6LuhKRI/AAAAAAAAAL4/hWyk5CEHTnQ/s1600-h/IMG_0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS6LuhKRI/AAAAAAAAAL4/hWyk5CEHTnQ/s200/IMG_0840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442409834234325266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Wii Fit Plus is a combination of crazy games designed to improve strength, balance, and humility. The last one not being listed on the packaging, of course, but nonetheless very true.  Options for training include yoga, cycling, step aerobics, ski jumping, and an obstacle course. Not your cup of tea? Then how about snowball fighting? Or hula hooping? Or tightrope walking? How about rhythm kung fu? No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I suggest flapping your arms like a chicken and hoping to land in a bullseye, all the while praying to god your neighbors can't see what you're doing through the windows, and that there's not a hidden camera in your apartment to broadcast your antics onto the interwebs for all to see! Yes, seriously, there is a chicken flapping game (check it out on &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WK-LKIXjtdk"&gt;YouTube&lt;/a&gt;). Only the Japanese could come up with something so asinine and yet so entertaining -- like these non-Wii gems (&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UG0guVq_0uo"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5Q3I2p0xHE"&gt;2&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzWAJduvcCw"&gt;3&lt;/a&gt;), also care of YouTube.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS6ffgOdI/AAAAAAAAAMA/isCDpPnXKnA/s1600-h/IMG_0841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dS6ffgOdI/AAAAAAAAAMA/isCDpPnXKnA/s200/IMG_0841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442409839540058578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So that is how I'm spending my extra time and energy. As of yet I haven't mastered the art of being a chicken, but I have plenty of time to work on it. Meanwhile I've become quite a faux-ski jumper and snowball dodger. And my hula hooping skills are vastly improving with all the hip circles in pole dancing class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is what my life has become. Pole dancing, video games, and romping in the snow. Might need to change the title of the blog to "30 going on 13"...  Weeeeeee!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4054641605912198996?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4054641605912198996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/wiiiiiiii.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4054641605912198996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4054641605912198996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/wiiiiiiii.html' title='Wiiiiiiii!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dTgRezNMI/AAAAAAAAAMI/zDE6uqqencY/s72-c/IMG_0839.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-7438507691128670759</id><published>2010-02-25T23:23:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T23:58:45.347-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>Snow-icane</title><content type='html'>It seems a little ridiculous that the last post I put up was about snow, too, but here you go. Clearly this is what is important to me!&lt;br /&gt;So here are a couple of more pictures of the most recent snow dumping we're getting. I've always wanted a New England winter, and I'm getting it this year! They are calling this one a snowicane, which apparently is a snow hurricane, although honestly the wind isn't nearly as bad as the last storm we got, like a week ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNg5lfpuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/eszrnrCilGY/s1600-h/IMG_0828.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNg5lfpuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/eszrnrCilGY/s200/IMG_0828.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442403902309770978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNhdGqomI/AAAAAAAAALA/ehWeQFwP_Iw/s1600-h/IMG_0832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNhdGqomI/AAAAAAAAALA/ehWeQFwP_Iw/s200/IMG_0832.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442403911844143714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNhilFkHI/AAAAAAAAALI/8PFbca_ACVc/s1600-h/IMG_0835.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNhilFkHI/AAAAAAAAALI/8PFbca_ACVc/s200/IMG_0835.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442403913313914994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure does make my boring street look a lot prettier. I'm not sure I'll love the extended commute in the morning, but at least I'm getting a smile out of it now. In fact, I spent most of the day staring out the window, smiling. Like an idiot. Or a ten-year old who knows this much snow means a day off of school. If only that's what it meant in adult land...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the remaining twenty minutes of my day not obsessing over &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPkwG-JSI/AAAAAAAAALQ/yWRiEzvovvs/s1600-h/IMG_0754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPkwG-JSI/AAAAAAAAALQ/yWRiEzvovvs/s200/IMG_0754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442406167508559138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;snow, I did sneak in a little cooking to keep my belly warm. I made a really yummy caramelized-carrots-and-feta dish, and then some homemade &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Holiday-Cranberry-Applesauce/Detail.aspx"&gt;cinnamon apple sauce&lt;/a&gt;. So good, there aren't words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPlUrJohI/AAAAAAAAALY/vD5MKyzJHC0/s1600-h/IMG_0755.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPlUrJohI/AAAAAAAAALY/vD5MKyzJHC0/s200/IMG_0755.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442406177323983378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now it's time to go stare out the windows a little more before crashing for the night...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPlsckWKI/AAAAAAAAALg/9lPvbPrj7WM/s1600-h/IMG_0758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dPlsckWKI/AAAAAAAAALg/9lPvbPrj7WM/s200/IMG_0758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442406183705270434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-7438507691128670759?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/7438507691128670759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-icane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7438507691128670759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7438507691128670759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-icane.html' title='Snow-icane'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S4dNg5lfpuI/AAAAAAAAAK4/eszrnrCilGY/s72-c/IMG_0828.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-367570842374235316</id><published>2010-02-15T02:08:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T03:11:09.534-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>The February Fury</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j4DHIlWzI/AAAAAAAAAIg/CEvr9F9X_8I/s1600-h/IMG_5270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j4DHIlWzI/AAAAAAAAAIg/CEvr9F9X_8I/s320/IMG_5270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369282388220722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got hit with a "blizzard" in these here parts this week, in case you hadn't heard.&lt;br /&gt;In the words of my incredibly liberally-minded father*, it was supposed to snow "until Al Gore cried Uncle". Which it almost did.&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited that I actually started taking pictures hourly to track the snow accumulation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9F5D4USI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nfFB5g6JaTo/s1600-h/IMG_5229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9F5D4USI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nfFB5g6JaTo/s200/IMG_5229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438374827708141858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j4XCt-ZwI/AAAAAAAAAIo/MdRGqlp1hVQ/s1600-h/IMG_5219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j4XCt-ZwI/AAAAAAAAAIo/MdRGqlp1hVQ/s200/IMG_5219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438369624800257794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12:30pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j7J7JlyjI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8MNBw51UhZg/s1600-h/IMG_5222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j7J7JlyjI/AAAAAAAAAJA/8MNBw51UhZg/s200/IMG_5222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438372697965185586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:30pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j6R947PcI/AAAAAAAAAI4/hCIXZgiiZTY/s1600-h/IMG_5233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j6R947PcI/AAAAAAAAAI4/hCIXZgiiZTY/s200/IMG_5233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438371736627920322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which really wasn't as much as I expected, considering this is New York. I mean, really, I want a Nor'Easter kind of winter for once, with blizzards and feet of snow and mass hysteria. Ok, maybe not the last one, although it does sound a little fun to watch staid New Yorkers lose their composure for a day. But alas, I seem destined to only get about 18 hours of snow and maybe one foot on the ground. Which I suppose is a good start. And there was maybe enough hysteria to keep apartment supers out shoveling all day, which was pretty funny to watch. From the comforts of my warm apartment. Almost as funny as listening to the yahoos with cars trying to get them out of their parking spot tombs after days of thaw/freeze/thaw/freezing that have turned the road into solid ice. I'm pretty sure a month of subway rides would be cheaper than the amount of rubber being left in the ice. Crazy people with cars!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j_q6ZcwRI/AAAAAAAAAJw/v6xsoLqSTFE/s1600-h/IMG_5253.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j_q6ZcwRI/AAAAAAAAAJw/v6xsoLqSTFE/s200/IMG_5253.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438377662745461010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoy the pics! As it was a very snowy week for everywhere &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;except&lt;/span&gt; the Winter Olympics venues, I'm sure there are plenty of great snow stories from this week. Hope everyone is warm and safe after this "February Fury".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9FcIFXWI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-E_ID5xAFnU/s1600-h/IMG_5236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9FcIFXWI/AAAAAAAAAJI/-E_ID5xAFnU/s200/IMG_5236.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438374819941145954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GAV2PeI/AAAAAAAAAJY/nyQLkrIiP-w/s1600-h/IMG_5244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GAV2PeI/AAAAAAAAAJY/nyQLkrIiP-w/s200/IMG_5244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438374829662551522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GxB2F8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/6RjweW3xfQE/s1600-h/IMG_5264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GxB2F8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/6RjweW3xfQE/s200/IMG_5264.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438374842731993026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GoUzy6I/AAAAAAAAAJg/wQwNg9sJDkw/s1600-h/IMG_5267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j9GoUzy6I/AAAAAAAAAJg/wQwNg9sJDkw/s200/IMG_5267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438374840395615138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j_rQA0RfI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/qG8494coKZk/s1600-h/IMG_5268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j_rQA0RfI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/qG8494coKZk/s200/IMG_5268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438377668547724786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3kBQ7aGlvI/AAAAAAAAAKA/VGRHdcD6AkA/s1600-h/IMG_5261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3kBQ7aGlvI/AAAAAAAAAKA/VGRHdcD6AkA/s200/IMG_5261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438379415363294962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-367570842374235316?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/367570842374235316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-fury.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/367570842374235316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/367570842374235316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/february-fury.html' title='The February Fury'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S3j4DHIlWzI/AAAAAAAAAIg/CEvr9F9X_8I/s72-c/IMG_5270.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4957638237224041798</id><published>2010-02-14T22:05:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T01:41:01.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anti-Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>It's that wonderfully, awfully, romantic holiday again. I've tried my best this year to ignore the Hallmark cheesiness of it all and not buy into the idea that I need to have someone around on this one day a year to be happy and fulfilled. It's only kind of working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first Valentine's in quite a while that I'm so incredibly alone. Which sucks, it really does, but has also given me a chance to figure out a few important things about my life. One, the last 4 months or so have been the happiest of my whole life, and I did that, all by myself. Two, I think we're all like animals in search of a pack, needing that connection to others and wanting to belong to a bigger whole. I think that's what has felt missing for me, even in all this happiness. Three, searching for that "pack" is exhausting, and sometimes you just need to curl up in a cave and recharge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's my Valentine's plan. Brunch with some good friends, and then a day at home, pampering me. Maybe dinner and a romantic movie? Sounds like a date. With the coolest person I know! :-p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all have had a lovely Valentine's Day/Chinese New Year/weekend as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4957638237224041798?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4957638237224041798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/anti-valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4957638237224041798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4957638237224041798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/anti-valentines-day.html' title='Anti-Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-2118636420691629572</id><published>2010-02-06T16:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T16:39:30.044-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Right on track...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23gDDSEJKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/dgkYOOX-ZNo/s1600-h/Photo+165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23gDDSEJKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/dgkYOOX-ZNo/s320/Photo+165.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435246668331361442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know. I'm way behind on updating the blog.&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who know me well, and the previous blog attempted, you should realize that this is par for the course. And for those of you who know me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; well, you should know I'm a super perfectionist and want to say just the right thing with just the right pictures before I hit "post".&lt;br /&gt;So I'm a little slow in catching the blog world up with the details of my life. A small recap:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I've been working A LOT. January was the worst schedule ever, and I feel like I may as well have moved in to the hospital. Thankfully that's over, and everyone involved survived&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I worked a lot, so I'm building much better relationships with my coworkers. Life in NYC looks better and better every day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23d73yhTrI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ipbd-PIoAwo/s1600-h/Photo+318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23d73yhTrI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ipbd-PIoAwo/s200/Photo+318.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435244345963925170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*I spent a lot of very delirious time with Photo Booth on my laptop (see pics above, to side, and below). This is what happens when I work something like 130 hours in 14 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I had a great birthday in Atlantic City. I think a posting on that one might be necessary...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I bought a Wii (post also to follow soon, I promise) so I'm perfectly content never leaving my apartment again. Except for visits to the chiropractor, as I'm fairly sure I'm going to do serious bodily harm with sword fighting and boxing. But it will be so worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23exAqorXI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/e_4ylCOERro/s1600-h/Photo+323.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23exAqorXI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/e_4ylCOERro/s200/Photo+323.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435245258879839602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My new-found cooking delights. I tackled cinnamon rolls and chocolate truffles this month, on top of lamb stew and lasagna, which are already firmly in my repertoire now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I took a pole-dancing class with coworkers. This might in fact be the highlight of the past month, as it was ridiculously fun and empowering, and an incredible workout. My whole body hurt for days afterward. (see link &lt;a href="http://sfactor.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to check out the classes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that sums it all up. Doesn't seem like much, but living it has been a whirlwind. The next two or three months look just as crazy, so I'll try to get postings up as I can. With pictures, of course!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-2118636420691629572?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2118636420691629572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/right-on-track.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2118636420691629572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2118636420691629572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/02/right-on-track.html' title='Right on track...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/S23gDDSEJKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/dgkYOOX-ZNo/s72-c/Photo+165.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-2690267828399923412</id><published>2010-01-11T20:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T12:37:29.228-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!!</title><content type='html'>I know I'm a little bit late in my new year well-wishing, but I've been terribly busy these days. Doing what, you ask?&lt;br /&gt;A whole lot of nothing! I have read a slew of really terrible books, worked several 2-day work weeks, hosted a book club, and made a fantastic beef stew. And that's about it.&lt;br /&gt;I did have one little run of excitement in the new year, though. Picture this: it's January 2nd, I'm at work on an incredibly slow day at the hospital, and the day is growing towards it's close. I've even grown a little complacent, as my two whole patients have become one patient, and I'm frankly not sure how to fill my last 2 hours of shift. And then at 6:20pm, out of the karmic cosmos, comes a whirlwind. At first sight you wouldn't think it. He's 26, strong and healthy despite the appendicitis he was just operated on for, and *allegedly* making a very nice recovery following laparoscopic surgery. Every nurse's dream patient! I think, "he won't need anything for the next hour and forty minutes, I'll just get him settled and keep him comfortable. Yay me for going home on time!!". Ha!&lt;br /&gt;So this lovely gentleman arrives on our floor in full-body shivers, complaining of cold despite 3 blankets and a stifling room. His shivers are so bad, in fact, that I can't get a real blood pressure reading on him because his arm is shaking so much. After giving him ten minutes or so to rest I try to recheck his blood pressure only to find that his heart rate is now 170. Hmmmm, not looking so good for him, or me, at this point. Thankfully I have an attentive resident on call that night, who came right away to assess this man and his super-fast heart rate. And then we discovered that his temperature was more than 104.8. Yup, that's as high as our thermometers go, and he's off that scale. Awesome! Several more doctors and a transfer to the post-op unit later, it's determined that he has malignant hyperthermia, which is a very rare complication of general anesthesia that causes the muscles to go rigid and drive body temperatures sky high. So then we start pushing large amounts of the antidote into him, a very lengthy process that takes just about every nurse on staff to accomplish, and transfer him again, this time to the surgical ICU. At 8pm, change of shift. After I had to convince a nurse there to take report on him so I could transfer him. And then later they tell me it's not malignant hyperthermia after all, just a really bad fever.&lt;br /&gt;At this point I'm so amped up on adrenaline I don't care that I left work a good hour late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then things just kept getting better...&lt;br /&gt;As I'm walking up my street from the subway, contemplating my crazy evening, I hear glass breaking and smell smoke. I look down the alley and what do I see? Flames, shooting out the windows of an apartment building. Yup. It keeps coming. And at this point I figure I've earned a look, so I walked around the corner and gawked. I'm pretty sure I'd earned the right to just stand around and watch the action for a few minutes!&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, though, there were several families huddled in the DunkinDonuts while their home burned, so I beat it home to gather up supplies for cold weather and the very heavy looking bunny rabbit one lady was holding in a donut shop. And then back out I went, into the 17 degrees and 40mile an hour winds. And promptly delivered clothing to people who looked at me like I was absolutely out of my mind. And not in a good way... Oh, and by the way, did I have any clothes for the old guy wearing a tarp for pants? Sigh. Back I went to raid the little bit of men's clothing still left in my apartment. Did I mention how cold it was??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not all. On my way back, again, to the crowd at the DD I stumble across a woman trying to detach herself from a cab, complaining that she's dizzy and doesn't know if she can walk. Well, that's right up my alley! Most of my days are tied up in "Fall Prevention and Safety", so I know the dizzy-walking speech inside out and backwards. Nurse to the rescue! To the drunkest woman in town... who I then had to assist all the way to her apartment so she didn't fall flat on her face.... as she kept whispering "shhhhh, don't tell anyone. I'm drrrruuunnnnkkkkk". No kidding! Never would have guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All around quite an adventure of an evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've learned so far this year: surgeons are, in fact, incredibly hot out of their scrubs; New Yorkers are a terribly suspicious and ungrateful lot; drunk people continue to be comical, whether you've been drinking with them or not; and my life is pretty damn interesting, even when it resembles an episode of the Twilight Zone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-2690267828399923412?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2690267828399923412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2690267828399923412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2690267828399923412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-8990926219199081650</id><published>2009-12-28T02:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T03:23:05.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let it snow...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szhqp3pwgpI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Q9HvCc4XDLQ/s1600-h/IMG_0695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szhqp3pwgpI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Q9HvCc4XDLQ/s200/IMG_0695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420199419086668434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a HUGE fan of snow. Always have been. It's part of that kid in me that refuses to grow up and believe that big people don't get snow days. Plus, it's so unbelievably beautiful and peaceful. Made even better by the glorious fact that I never have to drive in it here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning when my alarm goes off I grumble, curse, and grab my phone to check what the weather holds in store for us this week. And if I don't like the answer, I usually check again in 10 minutes to see if the weather guys have changed their minds. During the winter I'm pretty much always looking for those pretty little white flakes to show up on the screen. So imagine my delight when I checked the weather forecast today and this is what I saw:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szhm0AQQlZI/AAAAAAAAAGs/ZOmndiwhwIw/s1600-h/IMG_0721.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szhm0AQQlZI/AAAAAAAAAGs/ZOmndiwhwIw/s320/IMG_0721.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420195195147818386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's four freaking fantastic days of snow!!! [I'm very pointedly ignoring the rain forecast in there]. This is following the Nor'Easter we had last week that gave us a good 6+ inches of snow! It's like Mother Nature's ongoing Christmas present to me for being good for *most* of this crazy past year.&lt;br /&gt;And as you can see below, snow makes me smile! A lot. So bring on the flurries, weatherman. I have the boots, scarves and mittens lined up and ready to go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SzhqUQ-lyYI/AAAAAAAAAHU/_OjNV53Psok/s1600-h/IMG_0707.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SzhqUQ-lyYI/AAAAAAAAAHU/_OjNV53Psok/s320/IMG_0707.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420199047927810434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szho3Pnf9qI/AAAAAAAAAHE/MAw-BhOTPqQ/s1600-h/IMG_0694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szho3Pnf9qI/AAAAAAAAAHE/MAw-BhOTPqQ/s320/IMG_0694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420197449834690210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szho3gBejQI/AAAAAAAAAHM/CwwtZj6KZQw/s1600-h/IMG_0704.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szho3gBejQI/AAAAAAAAAHM/CwwtZj6KZQw/s320/IMG_0704.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420197454238616834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-8990926219199081650?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/8990926219199081650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/let-it-snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8990926219199081650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8990926219199081650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/let-it-snow.html' title='Let it snow...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Szhqp3pwgpI/AAAAAAAAAHc/Q9HvCc4XDLQ/s72-c/IMG_0695.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-7144150006765872716</id><published>2009-12-16T23:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T02:36:32.164-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Red coat'/><title type='text'>Red is the new Black</title><content type='html'>I've always been a big fan of neutral colors. Ok, I really just love black and gray. I mean, LOVE them. I think it's ridiculous to spend tons of money on flashy, trendy clothes that are out of style in 2 blinks. Which sucks, because I like to look cute as much as the next girl. I just squirm about jumping on trend bandwagons and looking "so 5 minutes ago" about 5 minutes after I buy new clothes. So I buy the colors that never seem to go out of style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, my wardrobe is a little on the stuffy (read: boring) side. Every time I go looking for something fun and exciting to wear, I find my trusty old gray sweaters. Topped by my lovely, well-cut, but extremely predictable black coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year I thought, "gosh, I'm single, out and about a lot, acting far younger than I really am, and I'd really like to start looking it". Well, what's a girl to do but find herself a new gay best friend to have bottomless mimosa brunch and go shopping with! Enter Joey, and a fabulous brunch spot in the West Village.&lt;br /&gt;Joey, being the newest and most wonderful shopping buddy that he is, has no patience for all that gray/black/navy/cream/brown stuff that makes up most of my outfits. He goes straight for bold, god bless him.&lt;br /&gt;Here are the results of said shopping trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym3RK1XhZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Z31liarIbxE/s1600-h/IMG_0641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym3RK1XhZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Z31liarIbxE/s200/IMG_0641.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416061532483585426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym3RqEP6hI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Ur2CqM0U6rU/s1600-h/IMG_0642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym3RqEP6hI/AAAAAAAAAGM/Ur2CqM0U6rU/s200/IMG_0642.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416061540867500562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, to be fair, this is really the result of said brunch. *Note to self: drunk Joey equals great accessory model. Must bring along for every shopping trip!!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; is the final result of said shopping trip:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym6Ck8tMWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/HlVPJfwMMnE/s1600-h/IMG_5198.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym6Ck8tMWI/AAAAAAAAAGU/HlVPJfwMMnE/s200/IMG_5198.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416064580330533218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a super stunning red wool pea coat, bought at half price from Banana Republic, and it makes me smile every time I put it on. And look how much the coat stands out in the crowd of very definitely New Yorkers, all dressed in their standard-issue black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym9q2WROrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/TbQnHvawC4A/s1600-h/16438_222598774466_790119466_4124796_8071051_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym9q2WROrI/AAAAAAAAAGk/TbQnHvawC4A/s200/16438_222598774466_790119466_4124796_8071051_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416068570730805938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one problem, though: every other New York woman must have had the same crazy idea this year, because half the city is wearing red wool coats right now!&lt;br /&gt;I guess this is what happens when I embrace a trend. Now I look like every other twentysomething (*ahem*) girl out there, bucking tradition and daring to stand out in a crowd... or blending into a new red one, as the case may be. For the next 5 minutes, anyway. At least I'll have a big bright smile on while I blend! I think I might just LOVE red.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-7144150006765872716?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/7144150006765872716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/red-is-new-black.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7144150006765872716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7144150006765872716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/red-is-new-black.html' title='Red is the new Black'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sym3RK1XhZI/AAAAAAAAAGE/Z31liarIbxE/s72-c/IMG_0641.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-6878180613744060520</id><published>2009-12-14T23:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T23:57:12.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Hi all! I know I've been very lax in updating the blog, but mostly because I like pictures and I've been way too busy (read: lazy) to upload photos to my computer and then attach them. So much work. Really.&lt;br /&gt;So I finally did some updates, but they are randomly scattered around from when I started them. So take a peak back at November and check out the Thanksgiving and 'Bama posts. And whatever may make it up tonight before I can't keep my eyes open anymore...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-6878180613744060520?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/6878180613744060520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6878180613744060520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6878180613744060520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1127681829877336587</id><published>2009-12-13T23:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T21:00:27.250-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='marriage proposal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snickerdoodles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holidays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='karaoke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>It's the most wonderful time of the year... for a party!</title><content type='html'>I've been looking for excuses to cook more, clean my apartment, and have a housewarming party. And what better excuse is there than a Saturday? Well, a Saturday at holiday time, perhaps!&lt;br /&gt;This last Saturday I threw a little shindig at my lovely Queens apartment and managed to drag about 20 of my closest friends into one of the most hated boroughs in New York.&lt;br /&gt;*Disclaimer: Pretty much any borough not named Manhattan or Brooklyn is in tough competition for that beloved honor of being most hated. I think Staten Island may actually take the cake, but there's not much love for the rest of us either.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every party needs a menu, so I think I blew a good 4 hours digging around on allrecipes.com and foodnetwork.com until I had the perfect combo of easy party foods and drinks. Final menu selections: deviled eggs, &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Cocktail-Meatballs/Detail.aspx"&gt;meatballs in cranberry and chili sauce&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Baby-BLT/Detail.aspx"&gt;baby BLTs&lt;/a&gt; (cherry tomatoes stuffed with bacon, mayo and green onions - little slices of heaven in bite-sized doses!), &lt;a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/snickerdoodles-recipe/index.html"&gt;snickerdoodles&lt;/a&gt;, brownies, hand-dipped chocolate-covered pretzels, a &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Chocolate-Chip-Cheese-Ball/Detail.aspx"&gt;chocolate chip cheese ball&lt;/a&gt; (huge success!) and spicy pecans. Drink menu: &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Hot-Buttered-Rum-Batter/Detail.aspx"&gt;hot buttered rum&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Bisschopswijn/Detail.aspx"&gt;spiced wine&lt;/a&gt;, and countless bottles of wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycesBNc93I/AAAAAAAAAFM/xzZ2Xy9AiH4/s1600-h/IMG_0678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycesBNc93I/AAAAAAAAAFM/xzZ2Xy9AiH4/s200/IMG_0678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415330818524247922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only hiccup in this lofty plan was the ridiculous cold I'd been fighting for weeks and the torn intercostal muscle causing me grief from way too many hours of coughing. I was exhausted and in pain for a good chunk of my cooking time, which is probably why I thought it was ok to deep-fry pecans at 2am when I've never deep-fried anything, ever. I was fairly close to having to send the regretful "sorry the party's canceled because I stupidly burned down my apartment" email, but somehow managed to salvage the pecans and my apartment, and had some damned tasty nuts to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hot buttered rum was a recipe I found online that made my tummy smile &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyccijG7ZZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bzYZKugrQos/s1600-h/IMG_0665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyccijG7ZZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bzYZKugrQos/s200/IMG_0665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415328456801740178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and my teeth ache in fear. The recipe calls for 1lb butter, 1lb powdered sugar, 1lb brown sugar, 1qt vanilla ice cream, cinnamon and nutmeg. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sycci3P-n2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/iAAcO89HdCs/s1600-h/IMG_0668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 114px; height: 152px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sycci3P-n2I/AAAAAAAAAEs/iAAcO89HdCs/s200/IMG_0668.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415328462208409442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;People, that's 4lbs of essentially pure fat and sugar! And I've never tasted anything quite so scrumcious!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyccjZuR-rI/AAAAAAAAAE0/BtnfutZnZas/s1600-h/IMG_0673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 154px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyccjZuR-rI/AAAAAAAAAE0/BtnfutZnZas/s200/IMG_0673.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415328471462312626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chocolate chip cheese ball, which apparently tastes just like cannoli filling, had cream cheese, sugar, vanilla and mini chocolate chips. Easy as it gets, and wins friends over left and right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycdYR1tC2I/AAAAAAAAAE8/nrq27IM9-Ww/s1600-h/IMG_0677.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycdYR1tC2I/AAAAAAAAAE8/nrq27IM9-Ww/s200/IMG_0677.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415329379879029602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sycd2XU6pxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/kIT3ONkDW6o/s1600-h/IMG_0656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 172px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sycd2XU6pxI/AAAAAAAAAFE/kIT3ONkDW6o/s200/IMG_0656.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415329896748197650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the snickerdoodles, well, those cookies have won me two marriage proposals so far! If I'd only realized sooner that you can rule the world with just a little good food... suffice it to say, it's a good thing I'm using my powers for good and not evil. So far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, the party was a smash hit for the first party I've really ever thrown.  Most of the food was gone in a blink, as was all of the alcohol. And I mean all of it. Followed up with a rousing round of karaoke in Manhattan. And all done in my new super-cute Kenneth Cole sweater dress! Who could ask for anything more?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycfU3BNB5I/AAAAAAAAAFc/WQj45Qfcj68/s1600-h/IMG_0681.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycfU3BNB5I/AAAAAAAAAFc/WQj45Qfcj68/s200/IMG_0681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415331520163153810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;        (The face of a girl who has been up cooking and cleaning way too many hours&lt;br /&gt;                 in a bathroom mirror in midtown Manhattan at 12:30am, avoiding&lt;br /&gt;                                singing in front of complete drunken strangers. No smiles left.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1127681829877336587?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1127681829877336587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-most-wonderful-time-of-year-for.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1127681829877336587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1127681829877336587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-most-wonderful-time-of-year-for.html' title='It&apos;s the most wonderful time of the year... for a party!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycesBNc93I/AAAAAAAAAFM/xzZ2Xy9AiH4/s72-c/IMG_0678.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-6189223746340573861</id><published>2009-12-08T00:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T01:04:23.910-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='immersion blender'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='names for inanimate objects'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soup'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Tomato Soup</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyckRDLBu9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CJcYoNSAtm8/s1600-h/IMG_0643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyckRDLBu9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CJcYoNSAtm8/s200/IMG_0643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415336952264244178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As winter starts to set in more and more, there's nothing quite like a hearty bowl of soup to make the short, cold days feel warm and pleasant. Now I've dabbled in soup for a while now, having almost perfected the art of homemade chicken noodle soup, and nearly succeeding at a great batch of lamb stew. For this project, though, it was time to inaugurate the immersion blender with something more substantial than a blueberry/raspberry smoothie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycmEqUMkRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/quOgtCKvvc8/s1600-h/IMG_0644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 128px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycmEqUMkRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/quOgtCKvvc8/s200/IMG_0644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415338938456641810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Winter soup round 1: creamy tomato soup with a touch of chili pepper. Made from fresh tomatoes and other such real ingredients that didn't come out of a can. Blended to smithereens by Iggy the Terrible (yes, I just named the blender Iggy. If you know me at all, you know that's par for the course. Babo, Ike, Juan Carlos, Camilla, Lucy, Daisy, Jade, Mickey, Floppy, Mork and Mindy all approve).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Below is the final result. It was a beautiful soup, and another good first attempt. I definitely have some tweaking to do, including finding the right base to start from. But overall I'm calling it a success. If for nothing else than that I found yet another ridiculous name for yet another inanimate object in my apartment.&lt;br /&gt;Did I say 30 going on 20?? Maybe off by a decade or three.&lt;br /&gt;And laughing all the way. =)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyclVMaRSuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/S2ST3zqmWAM/s1600-h/IMG_0646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyclVMaRSuI/AAAAAAAAAF0/S2ST3zqmWAM/s200/IMG_0646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415338122975202018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-6189223746340573861?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/6189223746340573861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/tomato-soup.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6189223746340573861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6189223746340573861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/12/tomato-soup.html' title='Tomato Soup'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SyckRDLBu9I/AAAAAAAAAFk/CJcYoNSAtm8/s72-c/IMG_0643.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-7532307787970104884</id><published>2009-11-26T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T20:53:42.256-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awesomely bad tv'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Top 5 lists'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thankful'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breakup songs'/><title type='text'>Top 5...</title><content type='html'>As the days are getting shorter and shorter with each passing day, I've found myself watching way too much tv again. All of these online shows were bad enough, but then Netflix had to go and put all kinds of terrible (and addicting) movies online too. The supply of garbage to watch is virtually endless! As I have too much free time and a burning desire to share some of it with my 5 or so regular readers, here are a few of my Top 5 lists a la &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;High Fidelity&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top 5 shows to watch online&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Glee (Fox). OMG, this show makes me laugh like nothing else. It's genius.&lt;br /&gt;2. House (Fox). Who doesn't love an egomaniacal, manipulative doctor with addiction and commitment issues?&lt;br /&gt;3. How I Met Your Mother (CBS). Another genius show, made even better by Neil Patrick Harris as the most ridiculous womanizer ever. It's legen - wait for it - dary!&lt;br /&gt;4. Gossip Girl (CW). Ok, I know. But did you see the name of my blog??? I'm clearly reliving my younger years, and thus living a little vicariously through the shenanigans of some rich UES-ers.&lt;br /&gt;5. Cougar Town (ABC). Who better to get advice on acting young and stupid from than a 40-something trying to pass herself off as 30? Thank you, Courtney Cox, for showing me how good 40 can really be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in honor of this lovely holiday upon us, here is my list of Top 5 things I'm thankful for this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A well-paying job. Seriously, a good chunk of my class seems to still be looking for work, 10 months after we graduated.&lt;br /&gt;2. A truly wonderful place to live. This apartment is HUGE and comfortable and mine. And the prospects for making it cozier are nearly endless.&lt;br /&gt;3. Freedom. And not in the cheesy national pride way, but in the I'm-finally-free-to-be-me way. After years of trying to be someone else, I'm finally just embracing the quirks that make me me. And really liking the freedom to be whoever I want that comes with it.&lt;br /&gt;4. Family. All of you, whether by blood or just whole-hearted love. And this includes some of the greatest friends a girl could ever ask for, who've stood by me through one of the roughest years I hope to ever see. Thank you all. *sniff*&lt;br /&gt;5. Hope. For the first time in a very long time, I am hopeful. Hopeful for a blessedly happy and fulfilling future, with all the amazing possibilities that lie before me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say that life is a journey, and mine has certainly had it's share of peaks and valleys to cross. I think every journey needs a soundtrack, because everything is better with a little music. And of course when I'm feeling down I want to drown my sorrows in the most miserably sad (and sometimes most miserably awful) songs I can get a hold of. So to beat a dead horse of top 5s, here are my current Top 5 break-up songs (with links to the youtube videos, ).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/taylorswift?blend=2&amp;amp;ob=4#p/a/12E43D243BEF14F2/0/ySqz4USHA4Y"&gt;White Horse&lt;/a&gt; by Taylor Swift&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB7T3lJ3dZ4"&gt;Need You Now&lt;/a&gt; by Lady Antebellum&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfLM-LwTurQ"&gt;Sometime Around Midnight&lt;/a&gt; by Airborne Toxic Event&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZ4fkyX_Fs0"&gt;Already Gone&lt;/a&gt; by Kelly Clarkson&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/pinkvideovault?blend=1&amp;amp;ob=4#p/f/10/3XKZh3vWeGc"&gt;So What&lt;/a&gt; by P!nk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know most of those are very cliche, but they're the ones that ring true right now. Soon to come, the Top 5 list of reasons why being single is so awesome, complete with it's very own soundtrack.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-7532307787970104884?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/7532307787970104884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/top-5.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7532307787970104884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/7532307787970104884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/top-5.html' title='Top 5...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1514308216647904576</id><published>2009-11-25T18:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T19:38:21.354-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New York City'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving in New York</title><content type='html'>I have to say, for all the times I've hated this city or grumbled about the complications of living here, there is nothing in the world quite like NYC for the holidays. The whole feeling of the city changes - quite possibly because natives all beat it for somewhere saner and the city fills up with tourists here for the parades and the tree at Rockefeller and the most expensive Christmas shopping they could possibly do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's a wonder to it all, an awe produced by being in one of the greatest cities in the world during a magical time of year. And that feeling is here now, flown in from all over the world for the Macy's parade tomorrow, and with no regard for the fact that I'm just not ready for the year to be over yet! And maybe I'm glad it came along without asking me, because I would have grumbled that this whole holiday thing is silly and could wait a little longer, and I would have missed out on a great day in NYC. I wandered through the city and toured the 42nd St. library - a visit induced by watching Ghostbusters, of course - and was reminded just how awesome this city really can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sw3NX_m55JI/AAAAAAAAADM/AO9a1AB1OGY/s1600/IMG_3598.JPG"&gt;                                                       &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 196px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sw3NX_m55JI/AAAAAAAAADM/AO9a1AB1OGY/s320/IMG_3598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408204539637130386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving, and hope everyone experiences some of the awe and joy of the holiday season, wherever you may be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1514308216647904576?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1514308216647904576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-in-new-york.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1514308216647904576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1514308216647904576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-in-new-york.html' title='Thanksgiving in New York'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sw3NX_m55JI/AAAAAAAAADM/AO9a1AB1OGY/s72-c/IMG_3598.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-2331421335262690696</id><published>2009-11-25T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T01:07:12.904-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soup Maestro'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Faux Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycVYkdTNfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UAAW6dI1_s4/s1600-h/IMG_0626.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 186px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycVYkdTNfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UAAW6dI1_s4/s320/IMG_0626.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415320588783924722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was faux Thanksgiving with the Brooklyn friends. The Soup Maestro outdid himself with possibly the best batch of butternut squash soup known to man. It was truly amazing! He also made up &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycVoIDqOLI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Cf0CbsGalkI/s1600-h/IMG_0628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 173px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycVoIDqOLI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Cf0CbsGalkI/s320/IMG_0628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415320856038095026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;game hens with pear and cherry compote and stuffing. I sauteed some green beans with olive oil, butter, garlic, shallots, shiitake mushrooms and salt and pepper. Oh goodness, they were good! For dessert I slaved over a dump cake. If you've never had dump cake, it is the genius invention of what could only be a Southerner, as it's way too sweet, and way too easy to make. To make it you pour a can&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycV0qDhhcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/b_X2IWLltyw/s1600-h/IMG_0624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycV0qDhhcI/AAAAAAAAAEU/b_X2IWLltyw/s320/IMG_0624.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415321071322760642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of crushed pineapple in a cake pan, pour cherry pie filling over that, add a bag of yellow cake mix over the fruit, and then slice up 1/2 cup of butter into pats and place all over the top. No stirring. No splattered cake batter from the electric mixer. No clean-up. And then you bake at 350 for about 45 minutes until the top gets crusty and bubbling. Quite possibly the easiest dessert ever, unless you find opening cans difficult. Which I definitely do not.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we were all in food-induced comas last night. Which didn't prevent us from jamming out to RockBand for a bit and butchering some classic Beatles tunes, but did make for a long commute home.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycWIImbLuI/AAAAAAAAAEc/jmkKfZ-Ow6s/s1600-h/IMG_0627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 170px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycWIImbLuI/AAAAAAAAAEc/jmkKfZ-Ow6s/s320/IMG_0627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415321405939724002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-2331421335262690696?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/2331421335262690696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/faux-thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2331421335262690696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/2331421335262690696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/faux-thanksgiving.html' title='Faux Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycVYkdTNfI/AAAAAAAAAEE/UAAW6dI1_s4/s72-c/IMG_0626.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-8031271317555602696</id><published>2009-11-23T01:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T23:48:00.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Roll Tide Roll</title><content type='html'>When did I turn into a football fan?! Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like all I've wanted to do this Fall is sit around and watch a game. I have no idea why this came to be, but why fight a good thing, right? A couple of weeks ago a friend from work who grew up in Alabama talked me into watching the University of Alabama game with her and then convinced me that this weekend was a good time to head down for some good old Alabama Crimson Tide football spirit. And of course, I said "sure, why not?". Football, friends, food... Where's the flaw in this plan???&lt;br /&gt;Some wonderful schedule fairy arranged a 6-day weekend for me at work, so this was the perfect time to sneak in an early Thanksgiving with Mom in Nashville and catch my first ever college football game. Mind you, if you count community colleges I've been to 5 - yes, 5 - colleges. And I've never been to one of my own schools' football games. So why not skip straight to the big leagues with a 'Bama game, where football is way more than just a game, it's a way of life? Seriously, they have a Roll Tide radio station. Just plays football coverage. Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;So Friday morning I hopped a plane and flew down to Nashville, visited with Mom for a few minutes, and then headed on down to Alabama in my Ikea of rental cars. 3 hours of country music and bleary-eyed driving later, I made it to Birmingham, AL to visit with my good friend Jen who is in medical school at UAB. I managed to drag Jen away from her studying long enough to grab a bite at th&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycTHGleKrI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H55qkB3NuUE/s1600-h/IMG_0611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycTHGleKrI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H55qkB3NuUE/s320/IMG_0611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415318089684101810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e most incredible barbecue place ever. They actually had a "pig in the garden" salad that may be the most genius entree the south has ever produced. I had barbecue chicken that was so tender it melted in your mouth and tasted more like slow-cooked ham than chicken. Delicious! And a mudslide, in a martini glass. I'm pretty sure they saw "Yankee" written all over me and pulled out the special glasses just for the occasion.&lt;br /&gt;Wild and adventurous 30-somethings that we are, Jen and I didn't go to bed until the wee hours of the night (ok, 11:30pm), so getting up for that football game just didn't seem to be in the cards. Also, turns out we didn't have tickets, it was probably going to rain, and the stadium was a 2 hour drive in bad traffic to Tuscaloosa. Needless to say, I slept in and helped Jen study for med school stuff instead.&lt;br /&gt;Alas, still no college football for me. But it was nice to get out of the big city and see how the rest of the world lives again. And Thanksgiving dinner at Mom's (one of three pending for this holiday) was absolutely perfect. Still to come: friend Thanksgiving at the Soup Maestro's apartment, and a work feast on Turkey day. That will make heading back to NYC not so tough!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycUodYRemI/AAAAAAAAAD8/OooSkAUC9n8/s1600-h/IMG_0617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycUodYRemI/AAAAAAAAAD8/OooSkAUC9n8/s320/IMG_0617.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415319762250070626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-8031271317555602696?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/8031271317555602696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/roll-tide-roll.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8031271317555602696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/8031271317555602696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/roll-tide-roll.html' title='Roll Tide Roll'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SycTHGleKrI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H55qkB3NuUE/s72-c/IMG_0611.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-1771800883353359261</id><published>2009-11-17T14:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T23:22:08.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Word to the Wise...</title><content type='html'>**Disclaimer** This is not a cheerful post, but a reminder to take care of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a nurse on a transplant floor in NYC, I see a lot of crazy stuff. Really crazy. But perhaps nothing like the patient I had over the weekend. A gentleman in his late 50s came into the ER with a foot sore that he's had for about 6 months and has been treating at home. Now he's always thought of himself as healthy, so thought very little of this sore and figured he could take care of it himself without going to the doctor. Trust me, I get that, as I hate going to the doctor as much as anyone else. But 6 months! He finally came in because the sore got worse and really required medical attention.&lt;br /&gt;Now here's the kicker: this "healthy" man hasn't been to the doctor in 2 years, and thus didn't know that he'd developed diabetes and had a diabetic foot ulcer. So the surgeon came in to see this man and said pretty much this: "I'm Dr. ____, I'm going to take care of you, we'll get you down to the OR today because this is pretty much a matter of life or limb, and hopefully we won't have to amputate your whole leg". How's that for a zinger of an introduction! And you know what, they ended up amputating his big toe.&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story: Feeling healthy isn't the same thing as actually being healthy. Please go to the doctor every once in a while, if for nothing else than to support those poor starving nurses trying to pay off their student loans. And seriously, if you have a gaping wound in your foot, march yourself into the doctor! No one wants the "life or limb" speech.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Addendum** That same patient went for an echocardiogram today for a funky heart beat. Turns out his left anterior descending artery (basically the big whopper of blood supply to the heart) was 99% blocked. In fancy shmancy medical terms, this is known as "the widowmaker". Ok, maybe not so fancy schmancy. This guy is pretty much a walking time-bomb, possibly days away from the most stunningly awful heart attack nature makes. Maybe that little foot sore was a blessing in disguise. I don't envy him the disillusion, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-1771800883353359261?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/1771800883353359261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/word-to-wise.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1771800883353359261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/1771800883353359261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/word-to-wise.html' title='Word to the Wise...'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-3010491851938429624</id><published>2009-11-13T02:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T22:45:36.929-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food processor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Target'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cat'/><title type='text'>This is the Life</title><content type='html'>As some of you may already know, I've been dreaming about a food processor ever since I figured out that I could actually put 2+ ingredients together and it wouldn't kill people. Or me. Which has only been for about a year, but man I can dream! Think of all of the soups and dips I could make! I've hemmed and hawed over what kind of food processor I wanted, how much to spend, how often I would ACTUALLY use it, and whether I wanted to deal with one more thing to pack when I inevitably move yet again in less than a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So imagine my delight when this baby jumped out at me from the shelf whilst enjoying a stroll around Target (hey, shopping in NYC is way more difficult than it looks, we have to enjoy the simple pleasures like an afternoon stroll around Target, Starbucks in hand, whenever we can):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv0PAe3PD5I/AAAAAAAAACk/qU1NA3YaHJI/s1600-h/hand+blender.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 220px; height: 220px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv0PAe3PD5I/AAAAAAAAACk/qU1NA3YaHJI/s320/hand+blender.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403491628873617298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sexy, isn't it! It's small, versatile, RED, and affordable. Who could ask for more???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have a new toy to play with and one less excuse for making dinner instead of buying from the taco truck on Queens Boulevard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow's challenge: breakfast smoothie a la immersion blender without covering my whole kitchen in milk. And the great thing about living alone: if I fail miserably, there's no one here to see the mess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the hardcore shopping I snuck in a nap on my friend's couch with this big lug, and couldn't help but think, "Man, this is the life". Good friends with couches to crash on, new toys to go crazy with, and 15 pounds of head-butting love to catch some zzzzz's with. Can I be born a cat in my next life, please?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/lisatisch/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv4nVnKk55I/AAAAAAAAADE/J_LyBhWDAQE/s1600-h/IMG_0605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv4nVnKk55I/AAAAAAAAADE/J_LyBhWDAQE/s320/IMG_0605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403799855135254418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv4nVTjqlEI/AAAAAAAAAC8/9g_Zn57ROLc/s1600-h/IMG_0603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv4nVTjqlEI/AAAAAAAAAC8/9g_Zn57ROLc/s320/IMG_0603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403799849871774786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-3010491851938429624?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/3010491851938429624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-is-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/3010491851938429624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/3010491851938429624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/this-is-life.html' title='This is the Life'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv0PAe3PD5I/AAAAAAAAACk/qU1NA3YaHJI/s72-c/hand+blender.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-5376037101136360053</id><published>2009-11-13T01:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T01:04:53.381-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soup'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Soup Night!</title><content type='html'>I have this friend out in Brooklyn who used to be a chef, and a damn good one at that. These days, however, he's doing the 9-5 in a cubby, but every once in a while he gets the urge to cook for everyone he knows. And thankfully, I'm on that lucky list of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week he made the infamous tomatillo soup, and it was such a smash hit with everyone there that it looks like Soup Night will be a regular occurrence. Sweet! Another excuse to test my cooking limits, AND get delicious soup out of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had a sweet and spicy buffalo chicken soup with sour cream and a side of to-die-for garlic and asiago toasted baguette slices. And of course rice pudding for dessert. To make the experience even better, we dined while watching Wayne's World. I haven't seen that movie since probably the mid-90s, so I forgot how rad it is. Schwing! Perfect match for the crowd and the meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the soup menu: Vermont cheddar soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could get used to this life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-5376037101136360053?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/5376037101136360053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/soup-night.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/5376037101136360053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/5376037101136360053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/soup-night.html' title='Soup Night!'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4310601181150928048</id><published>2009-11-11T02:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T01:06:11.461-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Rice pudding, a la Alton Brown</title><content type='html'>I've had this super craving for rice pudding lately, but it seems ridiculous to spend like $4 for a tiny tub of it at the grocery store when it will last half a blink. Plus, I need new stuff to cook, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I dug around on foodnetwork.com for the perfect first rice pudding recipe, and of course went straight for Alton Brown. For those of you who haven't seen his show, he's the quintessential scientist who channels his geekiness into cooking. If you ever want to know the ins and outs of cheesecake, butter, the perfect turkey, etc. he's the guy to look to. And Alton never does a recipe halfway, so naturally his rice pudding is Indian rice pudding, cardamom and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv1xf-iMnHI/AAAAAAAAACs/7c_EWehSwvM/s1600-h/IMG_5174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv1xf-iMnHI/AAAAAAAAACs/7c_EWehSwvM/s320/IMG_5174.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403599922090777714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total cooking time: about 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Total shopping time to find cardamom and coconut milk in Sunnyside, NY: um, 3 days?? It's like mission impossible to get spices in this neighborhood. I finally found cardamom at this little spice counter at the Grand Central Market. Yes, there's a food market inside Grand Central. What won't New Yorkers come up with to save a few minutes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final product: so worth the hunt for ingredients! I added a little nutmeg and cinnamon for my own flavor. Yum! So good, in fact, that I may have to make another batch for Soup Night. But that's a whole different blog...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv1xgIdpObI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Zrf9Q3fwwA8/s1600-h/IMG_5178.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv1xgIdpObI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Zrf9Q3fwwA8/s320/IMG_5178.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403599924756036018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4310601181150928048?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4310601181150928048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/rice-pudding-la-alton-brown.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4310601181150928048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4310601181150928048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/rice-pudding-la-alton-brown.html' title='Rice pudding, a la Alton Brown'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Sv1xf-iMnHI/AAAAAAAAACs/7c_EWehSwvM/s72-c/IMG_5174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-6528301140470115531</id><published>2009-11-08T19:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T02:37:41.942-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tom Cruise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marta'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>I know I'm a good week late on getting Halloween pics posted, but here they finally are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I dressed as Tom Cruise from Risky Business, tighty whities and all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s1600-h/IMG_0597.JPG"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s1600-h/IMG_0597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 176px; height: 235px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s320/IMG_0597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401893335097374434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhX8gPq1I/AAAAAAAAACY/upQSC1Cnlp0/s1600-h/IMG_5132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 173px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhX8gPq1I/AAAAAAAAACY/upQSC1Cnlp0/s320/IMG_5132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401893342060456786" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s1600-h/IMG_0597.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhX8gPq1I/AAAAAAAAACY/upQSC1Cnlp0/s1600-h/IMG_5132.JPG"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s1600-h/IMG_0597.JPG"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slid in to a party at a friend's apartment on the Upper East Side with some of the best people you can find in the city. My friend Marta (dressed as the Morton salt girl) was in town from Seattle, too, and we had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our one mistake for the evening: partaking in the Bloody Brains. Don't ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvddajnzDXI/AAAAAAAAACA/0mTMs0eSKuM/s1600-h/IMG_5159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvddajnzDXI/AAAAAAAAACA/0mTMs0eSKuM/s200/IMG_5159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401888988874345842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Svdda5iKSrI/AAAAAAAAACI/Wrtu0Sc9xc0/s1600-h/IMG_5131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/Svdda5iKSrI/AAAAAAAAACI/Wrtu0Sc9xc0/s200/IMG_5131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401888994756283058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvddacDdzqI/AAAAAAAAAB4/13-1WAm8CHg/s1600-h/IMG_5128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvddacDdzqI/AAAAAAAAAB4/13-1WAm8CHg/s200/IMG_5128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401888986842910370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-6528301140470115531?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/6528301140470115531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6528301140470115531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/6528301140470115531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdhXikHduI/AAAAAAAAACQ/DSWrf36gz8A/s72-c/IMG_0597.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5699635580774059764.post-4756880666319925961</id><published>2009-11-08T18:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T01:06:42.889-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>The start of it all</title><content type='html'>Oh lord, here I go again with another blog. I can't promise regular postings, but I will definitely try to keep this up to date when I can. Here goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 31, single, living in NYC, and maybe, just maybe, living as ridiculously now as I should have been at 21. So why not share the embarrassment and awesomeness with those I love the most?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Living in New York City can be one tough adventure when you're a book nerd from Seattle. Made even worse by being buried in nursing school and beginning a new career. I've been here for over 2 years now and I'm just just starting to get out regularly and appreciate all the character and uniqueness of the different parts of this crazy city. And did I mention that I only work 13 days a month? I think that means it's time to get out more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile on the home front, I'm also discovering a new passion for crafting, cooking, and general shenanigans. Well, the shenanigans aren't new. But the cooking de&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdRQvWztLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/gTdFd2P7ows/s1600-h/IMG_0579.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 261px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdRQvWztLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/gTdFd2P7ows/s320/IMG_0579.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401875626086085810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;finitely is! And since most of my loved ones aren't close enough to experience this in person (and probably won't believe me anyway!) I'm going to let pictures speak their thousand words. So to inaugurate this blog, I'm posting a picture of the apple pie I made a few weeks ago, from scratch. Yup, I did it all by myself, crust and all. I'm such a big girl! It was a huge success with Book Club and may even make an appearance at a Thanksgiving table or two in a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to use this blog to keep you posted on what's going on in my part of the world. Ok, really it's to have an excuse to make more cool stuff and post pictures of it. And to document a few of the shenanigans, as half of the things I do I can't believe myself. Hope you enjoy! And feel free to send suggestions, for food and/or tomfoolery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5699635580774059764-4756880666319925961?l=livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/feeds/4756880666319925961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/start-of-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4756880666319925961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5699635580774059764/posts/default/4756880666319925961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://livingvicariouslyinnyc.blogspot.com/2009/11/start-of-blog.html' title='The start of it all'/><author><name>Lisa in NYC</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01725877625751092323</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdVFlymgBI/AAAAAAAAAAg/eCEQ21zYt_g/S220/Photo+13.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_EUfZMT7_Cqc/SvdRQvWztLI/AAAAAAAAAAU/gTdFd2P7ows/s72-c/IMG_0579.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
