Goin' to the chapel. . .

AND I'M GONNA GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

that's right. this man here:



asked this lady here:



to marry him.

and I said YES!



i'm one lucky, lucky lady.

Ten O'Clock Scholar

ladies and gentleman, this is the face of a graduate student.

a graduate student who was accepted into both NYU & the New School.

a graduate student who will be getting a master's degree in political science.

meaning he will be a master of political science.

this is the face of success.

congratulations rogray!

You knock me off of my feet. . .

here's to momgo & dadgo who've been knocking each other off their feet for 31 years!!!! happy anniversary you two.

i was fortunate enough to celebrate their anniversary with them this past weekend when they came for a visit. . .just look at them:



ah, love.

my reaction to their display was this:



yeah, because that's gross what they're doing. ew ew ew ew ew. . .

other than that disgusting pda their trip was great. we ate food. we went to see a play. we had shabbat dinner with some friends where my mom made brisket:



and rogray blessed the bread:



we celebrated a birthday with my long island family:







(now that's an expression of love i can get behind. . .what's all this making out?)

where rogray continued to usurp my position by becoming bff with dadgo:



and where rogray ate pork all classy like:



i'll post pics of our sunday "jew day" tomorrow. . .because i need to recuperate from that first picture.

All By Myself. . .

so yesterday i'm on my way to our last intro to judaism class and i've worked out that the best way to get there is to take an express train to brooklyn which bypasses the stop i need and then transfer to a local train going back towards manhattan. that actually takes less time then taking the local out of manhattan. . .go figure. and yes, i spend an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out the quickest way to get places because i am the master of public transportation.

i made my transfer and stepped into the car on the local train and looked around and realized that i was the only person in the car. and i was amazed because that almost never happens and it certainly never happens at 6:30pm on a weekday. i looked around and was tickled to discover how excited i was by this moment of solitude -- because i think in this massive jumble of a city those moments where you get to be truly alone during your day are very, very rare. so i relished the moment.

as the doors to the train closed i took a deep breath, exhaled and. . .farted.

that's right. i did that. i just let. it. rip. and it felt good. i felt free, calm, truly at one with myself.

and wouldn't you know it, right after my glorious release the doors sprung back open and 8 people jumped in the car right behind me. and were greeted with eau de shaygo.

the moral of the story: you are never as alone as you think you are in new york city.

*picture from NYCDP

bitches & hos

and in this case the bitch is spitzer.

i thought i should share with you momgo's response which is brilliant:

"Holy crapballs. I thought it was going to say he had an affair with a top aide but it was over blah blah blah. This is really awful. He should resign."


um, yeah. my mom said holy crapballs. does your mom say that? i don't think so.


and dadgo followed up with this:


"Spitzer is another man who has his brains in his pecker. Is screwing around with a professional worse than having your winky whacked by an intern? Because I do not recall our wanting Bill to resign over that indiscretion. Oy Veh!!! What a sad state of affairs!"

yeah. equally brilliant. "winky whacked by an intern" -- amazing.


i am really saddened by this because i naively expected more from my governor. i knew there was something kind of smarmy about him but he was a relentless attorney general and he fought the good fight. and even though that all still stands he is going to have a very hard time bouncing back from this one. . .and to be honest i am getting tired of having to forgive these idiots and i don't think i should have to settle into a place where i expect nothing from the people who i elect. so why does this anger me more than bill's penis debacle?


because spitzer PAID for it. he paid a woman a large sum of money and brought her across state lines to have sex with her. this wasn't just an affair. this was paying for sex with a prostitute -- something that spitzer railed against when he was the a.g. and if i find it hypocritical that someone like larry craig gets to solicit men in the bathroom while spouting homophobic rhetoric than i should find it equally hypocritical when someone participates in the very industry that they spent years trying to dismantle as an elected official.


and i will never understand these wives who go to the mea culpa press conference with their douche-bag husbands. if it were me i'd be all "oh, hell no! fuck you, you asshole and your little 'i failed my family press junket' -- you get to go it a. l. o. n. e."


and then i'd throw a plate at his head and then i'd make sure that he had to go to the press conference alone with shards of fine china all over his suit and in his hair so that the public would know that this is one wife who wasn't going to play nice and wear pearls. and i'd tell his p.r. people to get away from me -- so that they way they could all sweat a little bit over what i might do or say.


and then i would buy a first class ticket -- no i would buy first class tickets for me and my friends so we could all go somewhere ridiculous like nice, or cannes, or bali and drink a lot of beverages with alcohol and umbrellas in them and we would stay in the fanciest of hotels and have spa treatments all day every day and then i would come home looking fabulous.


and the press would be like "look at mrs. blah da blee blah -- she looks gorgeous. and she's so smart and funny. he's such an idiot."


only then would i decide what to say and how to say it.


silda, feel free to use my plan of attack as you get through this humiliating debacle. but if you do all i ask is for a seat on that plane. . .i've always wanted to go to bali.

Little Deuce Coupe: An Ode

today is a bittersweet day for rogray and me. today is the day that we sold our car.



that was our 1991 mazda mx-6 GT (that stands for turbo yo) we bought in cali. it is the car that took us through our year there and it is the car that brought us across the country back home:







those last two pictures are what happens when you've been stuck in a car for 6 days straight and you're driving through texas.

this car has taken us camping:



and on day trips. to family and to friends. we didn't have a name for our car but we certainly loved it. so why did we sell it?

well, dadgo and momgo were kind enough to get us a newer used car to take us camping and to family and friends. and on sunday we go and get our new car that has been patiently waiting for us in a garage on long island. our old car is going to our good friend the photog and her husband so they can enjoy day trips and last minute get aways. so it is in swell hands and it will stay in the family.

it's been a great car -- one that got rogray and me through a very particular, interesting and crazy time in our life and we will miss it. so 1991 mazda mx-6 GT with the oscillating a/c vents we salute you and we love you.

thank you little car. thank you.

You never been on a ride like this befo'

i will say this about pakistan: they sure know how to decorate. . .

via kottke

i get it

i have yet to fully understand this whole sub-prime mortgage meltdown business. mostly because it involves things like numbers. and people in suits. doing things with numbers. while using acronyms and calculating numbers while they where their suits. with blackberries. and numbers. (should that be blackberrys? blackberry's? i kind of like pluralizing it the fruit way.)

and because the way you have to explain it is b.o.r.i.n.g.

until now!!

thanks to this handy dandy slide presentation you will understand it while simultaneously avoiding the boredom associated with dudes in suits talking about numbers and acronyms holding their blackberries and looking douchey!

via consumerist, my favorite pro-consumer site on the internets!

dreeeeeeeeaaaaaaam, dream dream dream dream

you know your life is getting boring when the only two dreams you remember are the following:

1: getting sick

2: talking to rogray about the grocery list and going to the gym.

eat it, just eat it

last night for the first time in ages we had shake n' bake for dinner because it is rogray's favorite.

in fact , he liked it so much that he ate 3 entire chicken legs (i'm talking thigh & leg people), 1/2 box of mac n' cheese, and 1/2 lb of green beans.

why he wasn't farting his life away is beyond me.

it makes me smile

i've been killing time at work by looking at pictures of rogray's and my cross-country drive from a few summers ago and came across one of my favorite pictures of the two of us at the grand canyon:



i know the grand canyon isn't even in it. . .but the where isn't why i like it. it's the how.

i like how rogray looks normal and happy but i look like i am simply up to no good.

i have no idea what i was thinking but it must have been something sneaky.

PSYYYYYYYCH!!!!

what are you?

crazy?

i didn't get no stinkin' tattoo!!! i'm the biggest wimp there is. . .but i had you going right? the whole thing was meant to be a practical joke on momgo & dadgo. . .because i know they would hate it if i got a tattoo.

in fact, they hate is so much that they were debating whether or not they could carry out the age old technique of disowning a child. i think they may have consulted a lawyer and everything.

seriously -- they were suuuuuper pissed -- so pissed that they couldn't even find the joke funny. hopefully in 10 years this will all be water under the bridge and then we can be like "remember that time shaygo said that she got a tattoo and did that insanley realistic post about it on her blog and dadgo had an aneurysm because of it and momgo had shaygo written out of the will? remember how HILARIOUS it was when it turned out that she was only joking and was doing a very early april fool's joke and the tattoo ended up being henna that she had done at a friend's baby shower? oh, man. . .that was a real roller coaster of hilarity!"

yeah, that's definitely going to happen. . .sorry momgo & dadgo. . .heh heh. . .is it funny now?

how 'bout now?

well let's get to the pics of the baby shower i went to so we can deflect some of the focus onto someone who's 8 months preggers and ready to explode, ok?

rogray's friend, homeslice, and his wife are expecting baby #2 and she was kind enough to invite me and the miracle worker to her baby shower. . .aka blessingway.

we had to bring some family artifact and explain why it was important to us:



next to the mortar and pestle you'll see a small, square black and white photo of a little girl with her mouth open like she's about to eat the camera. that's momgo when she was but a wee lass and it's my all time favorite picture of her. . .why? well, she's super cute in it, she looks like me (therefor i am super cuter) and it's the only picture i've ever seen of her as a child where she is actually being herself. . .it's amazing.

then we had to bring beads and string them together so she would have something to hold onto or look at while she squeezing the kid out:



i don't know from beads so i brought two antique buttons because what's more synonymous with motherhood then buttons? nothing, that's what. you always have to button, unbutton, zip, unzip -- i mean kids are reeeeally needy.

look at this lady -- she's ready to have a baby:



while she got her belly henna-ed her sister gave her feet a soak:



um, being preggers is awesome! it's like being at the spa am i right ladies?

look at the finished product:



amazing -- all free hand. . .so i got inspired and decided to get me some henna:



i really like it -- and would love to have a celebratory henna again. . .but a real tattoo? not really my thing. . .so no worries momgo & dadgo. . .i won't be getting any tattoos. . .but maybe i'll get pregnant just so i can have my friends come over and bathe my feet.

on my heart liks a tattoo

i didn't plan on doing this. in fact, it was never something i was interested in at all. i understood why others might want to invest in such a thing and i would be lying if my mind didn't occasionally drift over the idea. but i don't even have my ears pierced so it seemed a bit out of the realm of possibility.

but when i found myself sitting in the chair with my left arm draped across the armrest and the buzz of the needle in my ears it felt like the exact right thing to do:



so i did it. i got a tatto! i went with a friend to accompany her while she got hers and just got inspired. the guy was so patient and great and he made me feel really at ease.



i know it's pretty girly -- i kind of let the artist do what he wanted -- we both agreed a light color would be better with my skin tone and i definitely wanted to keep it subtle.

i'm trying to be bad-ass here but it's practically a damn flower. . .



rogray was definitely shocked but i think it's growing on him. did it hurt? hellz to the yesh but i think it was worth it.

i mean, look how happy i am:



maybe i'll get me some sleeves. . .ok, probably not. . .but i always thought the nape of the neck was a good spot for a tat.

dance dance dance dance

a few weeks ago ms. n sent out an invitation for a fete she and her boyfriend, the rockstar, were hosting. they wanted to do something nice and classy for their friends. i'm not classy but i am her friend so i went.

for some reason koogs and i got reeeeeeally into the whole classy aspect and decided to meet up early, get dressed and put on make-up together and basically act like we were going to prom. . .or the grammys. . .we couldn't really tell. all we knew was that we cared so much about it that we actually discussed what we should do for our make-up and hair. seriously. as if we knew much outside of the same thing we do every day with our hair and our faces. koogs tried cat-eye and i went smoky. . .

and, truth be told, i'm not sure it mattered what we looked like because ms. n's parties always end in a massive, sweaty dance party so in reality we probably should have just worn tank tops and put our hair in ponytails.

also, no matter what we did, ms. n out-classed us all:



yeah. . .that's a feather in her hair. . .i mean come on! CLASSY!!

rogray?



not quite as classy. . .but he sure did like that pizza.

the whole night ms. n kept whipping up these amazing cocktails. i'm not entirely sure i remember what they were or what was in them but do remember that just when i thought my glass was empty it was somehow magically refilled.

the c.e.o. put it best:




once koogs got a hold of the ipod the party looked like this:



and this:



(that's the back of my head and doesn't my hair look fabulous? see, it's worth it to discuss hair and make-up before hand.)

then it looked like this:



koogs got seriously into the song and looked like this:



and finally it looked like this:



what you don't see is a picture of me doing the humpety-hump with some dude while rogray sat on the couch eating cookies and drinking a martini. . .because apparently when i get on the dance floor i loose all sense of propriety and become a crazy person.

rogray and i had to leave on the early side because we had to wake up very early to go take a hebrew in a day class (you read that right) and let's just say that it was a rough, rough morning with lots of groaning and "whyyyyy? why did i do thaaaaat?" followed by some serious advil, tea, and seltzer. koogs and the c.e.o. left around 2am and said that you could hear the music about a block away. i can't remember the last time i went to a house party that was as classy and fun as that one. . .oh wait, ms.n's new year's eve party last year. . .

that ms. n sure knows how to treat her friends right.

you can wackle while i walk away

this has got to be some kind of prank right? i mean, they can't possibly be serious, right?

are you ready for some footbaaaaaaaall?

i have never been a fan of football. . .or sports in general. to be honest, i generally think it's a giant (get it?) waste of time. except going to baseball games -- baseball goes at the right speed for me and there are peanuts, hot dogs and beer involved. and i kind of understand it.




football -- that's just a bunch of giants running into each other hard. who f-ing cares?




over thanksgiving we were obliged to watch some college football games because rogray's stepdad is obsessed with the game:





there was one game that i did start to get into -- kansas? against. . .someone else?



it was exciting because kansas was the underdog and they fought really hard. i mean, they still lost but they tried and it was exciting to watch them try that hard. but i kind of only cared because rogray's stepdad cared and i was too stuffed and sleepy to motivate myself to go do something more productive like read a book or nap.




so imagine my surprise when i turned into a crazy football fan. we're talking jumping to my feet, screaming at the tv, covering my eyes and trash talking crazy.



the last 2 minutes of that game were insane!!!! when manning who, by the way, is engaged to his college girlfriend and lives in hoboken, kept fighting and pushing we knew that it would be exciting. when brady who, by the way left his pregnant baby mama for a supermodel and has an air of general douchiness around him, kept getting sacked i knew this game was turning awesome.



because the pats may have played an almost-perfect season but nothing is more gratifying than the underdog fighting hard and taking down the team that walks around the field like they deserve it -- like their opponent should just step aside and the rings should magically appear on their hands.



the giants had to prove that they deserved it. they had to stay calm, refuse to give up and do crazy things like clutch the ball to the top of their helmet so they could stay in posession and make the patriots eat all of their entitled, machismo bullshit. they were david taking goliath down.



i don't know if i will ever watch football again -- and i don't know if i will ever feel an allegiance to any one team -- but i know that last night, for one superbowl, i was a sports fan and it was awesome.

walkin' in a winter wonderland

for the first time this year it is actually snowing in new york city right now. . .i don't think it will stick because it's too warm but since this past january was the first one in 75 years without snow it's nice to see the stuff.

To Sir With Love

Dear Bob,

I am an avid viewer of your Sunday morning news program, Face the Nation. In fact, it is the only Sunday morning political show I enjoy watching. Your measured, unbiased reporting and interviewing skills are unrivaled amongst your colleagues.

My boyfriend is a politics junkie and, if he had his way, he would watch every news program and channel that existed including (but not limited to) CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, C-SPAN, Jim Lehrer, Chris Matthews and every program that has Tim Russert. I prefer Supernanny and Project Runway.

In choosing to retire from your program you are seriously jeopardizing the delicate balance of peace and televising equality in our home. My boyfriend could always count on me agreeing to watch your program without any groaning, eye-rolling or needing to promise me long back scratches which is what he is met with when he wants to watch pretty much anything else that isn't Ancient Discoveries, Jon & Kate plus Eight or SYTYCD/ANTM Cycle a billion.

In short, I find your choice selfish and thoughtless.

If you want to have unrest brought upon households across this fine country then please go ahead and retire. Play golf in the Bahamas and write your books. Play music with your friends and enjoy your children and grandchildren. If you need to be self-centered in that way then, by all means, go ahead. But if you care about this country the way you claim to then you should not retire but rather add a daily program to your schedule as well as your Sunday program. My relationship and therefor the world will fare better.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Viewer

PS -- Please don't take this the wrong way. You are a very nice man which is why I like your program so much. Do the right thing.

i do my little turn on the catwalk

rogray and i have become increasingly obsessed with our awesome, evil cat, harper, lately. rogray especially.

for instance we were at dinner the other night and rogray siad "i wish harper was here. she would really enjoy this."

and he was right. . .she would have enjoyed it because it was sushi and she's a cat.

i've become obsessed with trying to capture the cute essence of our furry friend and this has resulted in many impromptu photo shoots -- so let's take a look at our fluffy diva:

vintage calvin klein style:



very french "i do not care what you think":



the extreme close-up:



action shot!:



romance story:



possible perfume ad for eau de purr:



cutest fur ball ever! the paws! the fur!:



now if only she were nice to people. . .because she isn't nice to people. . .in fact she's terrible to people. . .people never get to see this side of her because she is either growling, yelling, hissing or clawing at them or she's hiding deep in the recesses of rogray's closet -- which is actually the ideal place for her to be when there are strangers in the house. . .strangers that are our closest friends and family, many of which have been kind enough to take care of her -- you know. strangers.

so i put these pictures up as a testament to how calm and cute she can be so the next time she is trying to remove the flesh from your bone because you are simply trying to say hello you know that she's not evil -- she's just tired from her photo shoot.

only in my dreams

last night as rogray and i cuddled and chatted before bed (adorable right? i mean. . .gross. we don't cuddle.) i began to drift off to sleep. . .i don't know what we were talking about, or rather, what rogray was talking about but at a pause in his conversation i asked him the following:


"does your dad use camera tape or regular tape?"


rogray promptly asked me to repeat what i asked and i believe half-way through repeating i woke up and and asked him what i had said. at which point i became thoroughly confused because what the hell kind of question is that?

rogray wanted to know what i had been thinking of but i had no idea because i think i was mainly sleeping at that point. . .i think this might rank up there with the time that rogray caught me singing in my sleep like an opera singer.

special.