Don’t Believe All the Skype

Howdy all!

Thanks for your patience as I reacquaint myself  with blogland I took an inadvertent leave of absence after I left my camera at RyGuy’s.  I will for sure address that fateful day though I am the good majority of you read the racous recap over by Homegirl’s way. But for today I will be recounting my recent home improvement themed  Sunday with le Minn Twin since I left you all hanging with the FANTASTIC teaser pic on the previous post.

Childhood friend Brittania and I spent the balance of Saturday day volunteering with New York Cares, an organization that organizes service projects through out the five burroughs of NYC.  We got our Van Gogh on at P.S 19 a public grade school in Brooklyn by painting a decorative mural in the school yard.

Look how gorgeous that “1″ is. It really was a labor of love for Brittania and me.

The children ARE the future. . .

After some hot showers and dinner,  Brittania and I planned on reverting to childhood with a late viewing of “Where the Wild Things Are” and movie candy.  While we were standing in line with hipsters, and hipsters dressed as ‘Wild Things’ I received a text from Minn Twin asking if we could embark on part deux of le makeover; we had started on the closet and were making prodigious progress but he had requested we use my Martha Stewart skillz and makeover his cool Brooklyn abode. I was of course game.

While standing in line, I had agreed to meet him at his apartment bright and early Sunday morning to embark on our new project.

Come Sunday morning, tres early, he was probably a little unsure of my arrival time since I had agreed to show up at his apartment at an hour than can only be described as “ungodly.” On a Sunday no less.

To ensure my attendance he attempted to technologically lure me. . .

I guess it is a vast improvement from the Minn Twin text in this post.

But fear not! I arrived on time and cranky as hell to bear witness to Minn Twin being Minn Twin, as always. I guess it’s comforting to know that regardless of the hour, he will always be 79% OCD. He created an itemized list of all the painting supplies we would need to complete the un-daunting task of painting two rooms in a New York apartment.

As fastidious as he may be, Minn Twin made a glaring omission from our “to get” list. It’s a good thing I’m on board because this whole operation would have been a massive FAIL had I not remembered this highly important detail. . .

After one questionable bus ride we arrived at man mecca and manned with Minn Twin’s list and a full liter of caffeine I found the will to shop.

Who am I kidding I could be shot in the stomach and I would find the will to shop.

Minn Twin’s sensible roommate, Minn Twin, and I roamed up and down the pain aisles systematically checking things off the ever important list.

But not before he got mad at me for letting it get crinkled in my purse.

It’s just PAPER!!

This was just the first of many disagreements we would encounter.  . .

Eggshell vs Flat:

Flat wins.

Whether or not Minn Twin is the strongest man in the world?

Rest of the world wins.

Who’s caulk is bigger?

A draw.

This was just all the set up before the biggest argument of the day. Painbrushgate 2009. Minn Twin being the ever particular guy he is, with a penchant for the finer things in life wasting money thought it necessary to splurge on a paintbrush. I pragmatically disagreed by asking him when he was planning on starting his professional painting business and/or when his exhibition  at the Louvre was going to open. He was immune to my logic and decided to spend THIRTEEN of his hard earned banking dollars on a paintbrush. A paintbrush he would use ONCE.

I on the other hand attempted to offset his spendiness with some frugality.

Before he threatened to lock me in the spray paint cage and leave me there if I had even ONE THOUGHT of painting his hallowed walls with a $0.79 paintbrush. So we cut the difference and roommate bought a  more sensible $9.00 brush.

And there was the eternal battle of color. The whole reason I was lured out of my bed at 7am on a Sunday with no promise of brunch, was to pick a respectable, masculine, sophisticated color for the Minn Twin and his roommate. And in typical Minn Twin fashion, there was a whole lot of marinating over my decision of “Steeple Gray“

But finally he gave into the powers of the Asian and agreed.  Happily packed and purchased we headed back t his apartment to start the makeover process. But not before I surveyed the bedroom and spied this. . .

I was about to tell him that I have no idea why I was commissioned to help with this home project when clearly he has a wife hidden away somewhere since it appears that under his bed is a registry full of wedding gifts. But by the time I finally found him to ask him WTF a crock pot is doing under his bed I spied something even more worrisome.

Umm . . b’excuse me?

Minn Twin decided it was prudent to take inventory of all the items that were purchased and laid them out in the foyer for easy access. So after all this it was FINALLY time to start painting.

I could write tomes about Minn Twin’s fastidious paint “technique” a tiresome and grueling process that requires perfectly even, heavy handed vertical strokes with the roller only to be immediately followed with a slight pass of a ($13) paintbrush symmetrically done in panels all over the walls. But instead I will show you. . .

Four hours later. . .

37 hours later. . .

Nine Light Years Away . . .

Finally! Great Success! Famished and tired like a Nike factory worker, Minn Twin decided to make good on his promise and took me out to dinner at the charming French bistro across the street. So I changed out of my fancy painting outfit

And into some real clothes for some real food.

Minn Twin started the meal off with a celebratory bottle of Syrah and moved into a crazy delicious beef stew – a celebration on it’s own.

I had an unpictured hanger steak au poivre. And while typically I wouldn’t consider neither the Minn Twin or me as “dessert people” he was feeling a hankering for something sweet so we headed to his  nearest bodega to answer the call of his mostly dormant sweet tooth.

Personally my vote would have been for ice cream but nothing gets between the Minn Twin and his Entemanns.

Nothing also gets between the Minn Twin and his bodega worker’s bromance.

Not even a half pound of Alpine Lace Swiss.

One box of chocolate chip cookies later and a Tivo’d episode of Saturday Night Live Minn Twin uttered the best words I’ve ever heard him say. “It’s time for the weekly Skype session with my parents.”

Now, I have known the Minn Twin for about two and half years now and in that time I have heard amazing stories about his lovely Minnesota parents, both of whom were beloved grade school teachers. He lauds their kindness and regales me with hilarious anecdotes. Stories like the time they dressed up baloons in custom made t-shirts for a special “Twins Birthday Edition” Skype session.

**Please note the bowtie**

So when Minn Twin offered me the opportunity to sit in on the Skype session I nearly wet my balloon person pants. Imagine my joy when once his father signed on to the session . . . I saw this!

And this!

I know Mr. Minn Twin was a teacher, but I had no idea he was also a Broadway Star.

Or my personal favorite, a sheep!

And since Minn Twin misses his parents every day, they thought they would use the power of technology to transport them to our very backyard.

So after 16 hours of tireless painting, arguing, and arguing about painting.

one thing we could both agree on was clear. His parents really did live up to all the hype.

Happy Friday my lovelies!!!

Technical Difficulty

Hi All!

Thanks so much for your kind words of worry I am in fact not dead nor intending another sabbatical. I am however the world’s worst blogger as I left my camera at RYGuy’s after the bombtastic brunch avec Homegirl – that I’m sure you all read about here.

Unfortunately, Ryguy left for a fanciful cruise to the Bahamas after said brunch and I am sans camera. I did however have a fabulous weekend and have a SUPERB Minn Twin post to show for it coming at you.  I was smart enough to hold his camera hostage so I could chronicle our adventure.

Look for the rundown tomorrow night but for now I leave you with this. . . .

Who is this wonderful man and where did he come from? Answer is coming at ya manana!!

Crossover

So remember all those 90’s sitcoms (ie Friends, Frasier, Seinfeld) TV from a bygone era, inevitably all those shows would eventually jump the proverbial shark and participate in something called the crossover. I think at one point or another a character from one show, would end up on another making a “special guest appearance” and it would be advertised for months beforehand.

I am reminded of a ‘Friends’ episode where George Clooney and Noah Wylie guest starred as ER doctors.

Mostly because my 90’s self left post-its all over my house and set every VCR (and one BETA) in my house to record this momentous event.

That being said you should all warn your Google readers because I am proud to announce, my very first blog crossover!!!!!

**AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!**

That’s right folks, as of this Thursday I will be playing hostest with the mostest to EVERYONE’s favorite Homegirl!! For what we are calling the ultimate OHomegirLivin weekend!

She is getting on a jetplane to LIV(e) the Ohlivin life for a fabulous zany weekend full of crazy fashionable antics and delicious foodstuffs!

My little Baby B protege and I have been plotting this for a while now, and in great anticipation for this event my ever clever Homegirl sent me this thoughtful and gorgey card in official celebration of her upcoming visit.

Just as I have always suspected. I AM the center of the universe!!!

We have jam packed our calendars with exciting and fun things to share with you all. We cannot divulge everything (yet) but here is a sneak peek at what can be expected!

BOSSY PHOTO SHOOTS avec RY GUY!!!!

Croissants that taste like pretzels!!!

Cookies that taste like blueberry muffins!!

DP doing carpentry!!! *

*Ok, maybe not this one, but she will get to meet him. I was not allowed to put this shirtless pic of him installing our new hardwood floors but whoops, my bad!!

Craziness with BFF!!

A yours truly styled  fashion show!!!

Shop with le Minn Twin!!

And loads of other fabulous things. We will also be doing a Q and A with each other for a segment, tentatively titled “10 Qs with Liv and Homegirl” where you will get a chance to have us answer any of your questions for a special video piece we will be uploading on Friday. So now is your chance to ask us whatever you like! **

** Subjects include but not limited to: boys, fashion, personal likes/dislikes, pop culture, politics, food, boys again.

Programming note: After numerous questions and requests from you all I will also be continuing Dating Ohs so look for a Minn Twin segment later this week as well! And you can have questions for that segment also!!

Out Dated, One Year Older (x2), thats what she said, and eggs.

Howdy all!

I know you have probably all chewed your well manicured nails to nubs waiting to hear exactly what your humble blogger did in terms of dating  the resurrected suitor from 4 months past, to be read about here.

Taking most of your advice into consideration I agreed to go on a date with him; and last Friday I did. And here is what happened.

He thought it would be a charming reunion of sorts if we were to meet at the bar where we first met. This idea worked on many levels because

1) the bar is a dive and would not require me to look like I exerted myself with any effort what. so. ever. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that I bought a brand new push up bra for the occasion.

2) It’s very close to my apartment so if he proved to be a complete dud I was only 2 minutes from home.

3) If he tried anything funny I could text DP and he would come save me in 2.2 seconds.

So I wanted to plan a late meeting because I wasn’t prepared to commit to dinner so I figured if he had already eaten, we could just sit at the bar for a max of 2 drinks and then I could leave.

Here he explained that the car accident actually occurred the day before our date and was such a horrific accident the driver lost a finger! I made an off color remark about how he himself did not lose all (or any) of his fingers which in the end incapacitated him from texting and or calling me. But I digress.

So we met at the bar, had a few drinks and I couldn’t help but notice how much the past 4 months have actually aged him, regardless of whether of not he is the boy who cried car accident, there is no doubt in my mind that during the past four months, this guy had been through something hectic.

I forced him to play a morbid game of show and tell and he showed me his 3 fake teeth and where he broke his wrist;  for the most part the conversation was smooth but I think the spark was gone. There was a part of me that felt guilty for agreeing to a date for the sheer sake of grim curiosity.

After the bar we headed over to a nearby 50’s themed diner and while I had already eaten, he asked me to join him and forced me to order from the menu.  I was gonna have a diet root beer but once the server approached our table, he ordered me a sundae.

That was the most endearing thing that happened on the date because for the most part. . . .

Anyway while there was certainly nothing “dating woahs” really about the date, except I guess for the guy in the car who lost a finger, the date just ended up being a tedious exercise kinda like the Stairmaster. I guess not any more tedious than meeting another douchebag in a bar . . . . which is what happened to me this Friday.

A New York girl cant get a break.

But every once in a while the stars align and the universe blesses us mere mortal females with a man so wonderful, a guy so great that his announced engagement actually becomes a sad trending topic on Twitter. I am talking about my A-numero uno love of life, Mr John Krasinski.

Living in NY there are no shortage of celeb sightings and seeing as how most celeb related things (ie deaths) come in threes I topped off a Michelle Obama, Hillary Duff sighted week with non other than the endearing ‘Office’ member, John Krasinski.  I mentioned in a previous post about how if asked to pick one person right now to marry without question, I would pick him and I knew that I had my opportunity on Saturday as we he was taking part in an intimate reading and book signing for his new adaptation of David Foster Wallace’s “Brief Interviews with Hideous Men.’  And I cannot stress to you how wonderfully funny, smart, engaging and hot he was in person – it was other worldly. It was surface of the sun hot.  Gargling lava, hot.

So much like I how do with DP’s triathlon pictures, without further a do here is your John Krasinski slideshow of photos. . .

After he graciously agreed to sign a birthday card for Molls (who LOVES HIM)

and my copy of Brief Interviews. . . .

Our conversation went a little like this. . .

OO: So my book doesn’t have the movie tie in sticker.
JK: Oh that’s ok
OO: Well, I think it makes me even cooler because then you know I didn’t just run out to get it today.
JK: That’s totally true.

(Beat)

JK: So we should get married.

Hence why he wrote I am “O.G.” I’ve also been alerted that the crazy kids are now using O.G. as an abbreviation for “Outstanding Girlfriend.” You can’t stop progress!

I headed home and realized I that besides being love struck I also felt cold struck. Sore throat! Sniffles!

I went home to lie in bed for a bit to rest because I had plans to celebrate everyone’s favorite Minn Twin’s birthday. I originally had canceled but after some guilt tripping I decided to put on some pants and help him celebrate the big 2-9.

We headed to an East Village bar known for having a good variety of bar games ( a la skee ball, darts, pinball machines, pools, Buck Hunter)

Minn Twin and I paired off against his roommate and SGO, and thought it best to come up with team names that were glaringly obvious so we wouldn’t forget who was designated as column right and left.

I mean, obvio. Here is SGO being buff.

Minn Twin and I took a picture of us being sexy, but that’s like calling Chinese food Chinese food in China, it’s redundant. Every picture we take is of us being sexy. . .

. . . .and humble.

We are also apparently awesome at darts as well . . .Look at him in his Barney’s finds with the birthday gift from me in his back pocket. I must say we both have excellent dart form.

So much so that I had TWO BULLSEYES IN A ROW!!!!!!

SGO, nervous about defeat, thought that a moustache would provide as a good distraction and prevent Minn Twin and me from taking home the victory.

Luckily, two can play that game! Touche Minn  Twin!

Seeing as how Minn Twin IS a twin, he was sharing his bday with fabulous Bro.  Here are the birthday boys acting as white bread for a delicious Ohlivin sandwich.

Smiles quickly turned to frowns after tequila made it’s feliz cumpleanos presence known.

Down the hatch!

I was feeling the way Bro looks in this pic so I knew I had to call it a somewhat early night because I had spiffy plans to head out to New Jersey bright and early the next day for a brunch party at Ry guy’s!

I had arrived to see that SGO had been hard at work already in her Mad Men finest working the waffle plancha

Ill tell you what was a big hit, the cheesey soft scrambled eggs I contributed to the fete. Ry guy also outfitted his party with a delicious bagel buffet and Ina Garten approved quail eggs (aka gummy eggs)

We had all amused our bouches and were fully prepared for the real star of the show to make it’s appearance. . .waffle bar!!! We each were provided with a delicious fresh waffle courtesy of SGO and we were each allowed to smother them with any combination of a variety of toppings. This led me to play a game of “what does your waffle say about you . . . “ Step asside Freud, there’s a new doctor in town.

Carlos: Simply Strawberries? Simple and understated.

Heather Wes: Gone before I can even take a snapshot? Prone to indigestion.

Undies: Bananas, strawberries, chocolate chips, whipped cream, Swedish fish, gummy egg? Prone to diarrhea.

K Dough: Syrup, bananas, strawberries, and chocolate chips?  100% all man.

Ry Guy: No comment.

Ohlivin: Macerated strawberries, whipped cream, and syrup drizzle? Practically perfect in every way.

Ry Guy sometimes feels the pressures of being the hostest with the mostest so he keeps a little reminder in his kitchen for when the going gets rough (ie we put our drinks down sans coaster)

. . and then all is ok.

RyGuy specially hand picked appropriate mugs for each guest’s coffee and he so deftly paired me with this beauty . . .

it reads 101% Swedish. I do love those meatballs and Ikea.

And look how good I look in fair isle!

When gong to a fete ala chez RyGuy, there are a few things you can always depend on. . . .

1) Boozin’ and Cruisin’:

Concocting such delicious new mix master style drinks that don’t taste boozy as to render the drinker “crunks” like in 2.2 seconds. (Undies demonstrates here the 4 steps: 1) Champagne? SURE! 2) X-Rated Liqueur also? SURE! 3) Smells like paint varnish? SURE!! 4) Delicious? ABSOLUTELY!!)

It is important that all  drinkers protect him/herself from any predators that maybe lurking. . . .

But let your guard down for just one second. . .

and you’re likely to be attacked!!!!!!

Sexual advances aside, you are also very likely to participate in  . . .

2) WASPY photo shoot

You all can do this at home with just a few tips. All you need to achieve your own maximum WASPY fun times are . . .

FABULOUS ACCESSORIES!

AN AIR OF INDIFFERENCE!!

FABULOUS ACCESSORIES AND AN AIR OF INDIFFERENCE!!!

MONOGRAMMED EVERYTHING!!!

FABULOUS ACCESSORIES, AN AIR OF DIFFERENCE, and MONOGRAMMED EVERYTHING!!!

Or just ONE MONOGRAM and a SERIAL KILLER STARE. That works too (in a pinch).

And if ever there is a dull moment at the fete (there never is) all RyGuy has to do is call out for a fun new idea. . .

And we all hear the call!

This particular instance he called out for “MORE FUN WITH ACCESSORIES!”

Now, you only need to tell me once. . .

before I whip out the giant purse the size of a New York apartment for some fun times. . . . .

Get in the bag? Sure, why not!

And in this democracy, everyone gets a turn!

I let Heather-Wes stow away and she avoided paying $1.75 for the train ride home but now I have sciatica. Moral of the story, when the gay calls out for “more fun with accessories!!” just put on a hat.

Phew, that was the longest post in Ohlivin history! I think I need to get up and stretch.

Hope you all had a fantastic weekend . . .Happy  Tuesday!!!

Resurrections

Hi all!

So the past seven days have been crazy; as you know in this fair city of NY it is now Spring 2010 fashion week.  There has been a whirl of activities, parties, and almost too many air kisses and fake compliments but since entering my late 20’s  I have stopped being a slave to fashion and am able to balance regular life things (ie eating)  with crazy fashion things (ie never eating).

Speaking of eating. . . every September there is a lovely downtown tradition and celebration of eating called the Feast of San Genarro. The Little Italy section of New York opens up it’s streets as a mecca for Italian food stalls, games, food, and more food. SGO and I being the fabulous New Yorkers we are, went the first day.

SGO and I are also pros when it comes to the ways of navigating this particular festival, so clearly we started with dessert first.

Not with those. . . We wanted to stay alive long enough to actually eat other fair fare. . . .Just thought I would show you the resurrection of this newly tested and appreciated culinary discovery.

Back to first course, dessert. The plan of attack was to start with a delicious festival treat, zeppoles.

Little mounds of fried pizza dough covered with powdered sugar. NOM NOM NOM.

Now that we had gotten the dessert (v1.0) out of the way, we took the time to partake of some festival activities ala . . .Bertolli Olive Oil Wheel of Fortune!!

I was really hoping for the big money/free bottle of olive oil. Alas, lady luck was not on my side this night. But everyone is a winner so I went home the lucky owner of. . .

Not just any apron, a STYLISH Bertolli apron!!

You’re also allowed to pick olives from their very own Bertolli olive tree.

All this winning big and olive picking had SGO and I hungry again so we wandered up and down the stalls trying to decide what we should eat next. . .

There were delicious options every single step of the way. (L-R Clockwise:  Sausage and pepper hero, pumpkin pie cannoli, calamari and rice balls, and peanut butter cup cannoli)

Vendors even offered bribes to convine us to eat at their carts!

SGO and I wandered up and down the stalls in search of something truly delicious and then we spied our FAVORITE fair food option!

MOZZAREPAS!

Basically it’s a mozzarella grilled cheese nestled between two corn cakes born from an angel.

SGO and I thought it best to pace ourselves but we knew there was an entire night of shopping head of us, so much like a marathon we prepared by carbo loading. (Spaghetti Marinara, Ravioli in Vodka sauce)

With our bellies full of carb goodness we set out a few blocks west towards SoHo since we had planned on participating in Fashion’s Night Out, an event that is the brainchild of one Ms Anna Wintour who convinced hundreds of retailers to stay open late, host events, and offer deals to stimulate sales and convince shoppers to. . .well, shop! Proceeds from the night’s events went to charity and nearly every store had some fabulous event planned.

First stop, the ever fanciful and whimsical Kate Spade store for cocktails (always helpful in luring those hidden credit cards)

and salsa dancing lessons!

Which I thought was tastefully done and somehow averted disaster since usually the confluence of prescription meds drinking and dancing looks like this.

But rather SGO and I, in the spirit of reviving the floundering retail climate did this instead.

Oh watercolor sequin dress.  . . you will be mine!!!

We headed up the street to Rag and Bone to see what those cute boys were doing.

They were offering a full on beer bar, serving up huge steins of brews to the tunes of a string quartet.

Though I have yet to see the numbers from the night’s sales, I would like to think that I did my part to help revive retail. It really isn’t a surprise that I partook in shopping that night,  however I will tell you ONE GIANT surprise that came later that night.

This one require a bit of back story. . . A few months ago after dealing with the horrifying string of dates that we have all come to love and know as Dating Woahs, I steadfastly returned to my “type” that we have also come to know and love as tall bankers from Connecticut with a streak of douche-baggery and emotional unavailability.  During this time I had met someone as I like to refer to as ” a grown up.”  I met him playing pool in a bar not far from my apartment. Neither tall nor from Connecticut, he was 100% Italian, from Brooklyn, shaved bald,  with an affinity for the Beatles and a pug – he asked me for my number and a date that night.

My friends all were huge fans of his because he demonstrated a straight forward, mature approach to dating me and I have to admit it was refreshing to, for once, not have to deal with this bull shit.

But surprise, surprise, he was a banker. Leave it to me to find the one not tall, not from Connecticut, 100% Italian, from Brooklyn, shaved bald, Beatles loving banker with a pug. Only Olivia.

We had planned a date to go to the Rock n Roll Museum’s SoHo annex to see the John Lennon exhibit and have dinner afterwards but then the day of our date, I didn’t hear from him. They day after that, still nothing. I have never been stood up in my life, but here I was, stood up from a guy with a pug named Sadie.

I wasn’t upset at all, I figured I probably wouldn’t have dated him in the first place but I was probably caught up in the momentum of no-bullshit. I figure I was just granted an opportunity to ditch someone I probably would have eventually ditched anyway. So imagine my surprise when I received this email on Friday:

Ok, so I’m sure you’re gonna laugh and delete this when you see it but I figured I’d try. I’m really sorry I pulled a disappearing act a few months ago but I have a legitimate reason. I was in a pretty bad car accident, actually knocked out 3 of my front teeth, broke my wrist, a few ribs and had a concussion. I was kinda in bad shape for a few months, completely depressed and being a recluse lol. I was checking old emails a few weeks ago and just got the nerve to say hi. Hope you’re doing well.

PS – How about you finally give me a chance to take you out and make it up to you

I saw “He’s Just Not That Into You” and after being stood up for the first time in my life, I did not rationalize it with ‘he must have been  in a terrible accident and has a very good explanation for all this’ normally, I WOULD HAVE. The ONE TIME I didn’t, it turns out it was true. What are the chances. . .

So this is where I ask you, what do you think dear readers. . . do I give him another chance and go on a date with him???

So even with the return of Brooklyn Banker, there is no doubt in my mind that DP is still the most dependable man in my life. We have been doing some small renovation projects to the apartment and as the apartment starts to shape up, DP feels more and more inclined to do BIG renovations. Even if he didn’t feel so inclined to Bob Villa our apartment, we would still have to make our weekly trek to Home Depot, because if we didn’t he would start to convulse on the floor from withdrawal pains.

That being said, DP is fully set on knocking out our current sink and placing a new sink and floors in our newly painted (by me!) bathroom.  So off to Home Depot’s bathroom department we went in search of new sinkage!

DP had his eye on the prize . . . unfortunately, I was a little less focused.

This tub was soo deep I’m practically standing in it.

“Oh, welcome to this episode of Ohlivin! Today I will be putting out fires with this HUGELY AWESOME kitchen faucet/hose and catering a cocktail party for 200.”

Once DP saw how much fun there was to be had he too couldn’t resist some $hittin’ around.

I mean Home Depot just gives and gives, isn’t it time we leave a gift for them as well?! JK LOLZ.

With a good idea of what we wanted in mind, DP and I left Home Depot to take a gander at Housing Works, a fabulous charity thrift shop that tends to have beautifully maintained furniture. It was there DP became the ultimate DP and bought me the greatest gift any Asian girl from Orange County,CA could ever want.

This GORGEOUS DINING TABLE!!!!!

ohdsf;ohdf’oidhf’oidzhf’dgbvfd;hf;odhf;zdioihf’doifhoaihfao;i x 100000000000

It opens to seat about 12, is annonized brass with a smoked glass top. Already I have styled it perfectly to sit in our brand new dining room.

I feel as though when DP gets on a a roll of being a DP, he just gains momentum and continues with his DPness through the weekend. On Sunday, he had yet ANOTHER triathlon and seeing as how I am designated tri-groupie, I woke up at the crack of dawn to cheer on my dining table buying, new sink installing, Ironman of a roommate.

This particular Tri was a half-Ironman length, that being said the eye candy was staggering. DP had mentioned that I would probably meet my husband here and was he right!!!

Here I demonstrate my crazy good abilities at taking pictures of cute boys while pretending to be taking pictures of something else.

I mean what are the chances that two people with SUCH GOOD HAIR would be at the same place, at the same time. Surely it was meant to be.

As you know, the triathlete’s age is alwasy clearly marked on the calf unfortunately, my husband was already zipped up into his wetsuit, so I was unable to discern how old he was with that method. But, it wasn’t this Asian girl’s first time at the rodeo, the swim cap also designates your age group  and I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was in the 30-39 age group. I guess my days as a triathlon cougar are behind me. Phew.

(**NOTE: If you or anyone you know, actually KNOWS my triathlon husband please 1) tell him I am not as creepy as the above pictures would suggest and 2) hook a sister up. He is literally my dream man)

Oh yeah, and DP was there too.

Now is the portion of the triathlon post where I egregiously post objectifying pictures of my roommate on the internet. Enjoy!

Like this one of him putting on sunscreen. . .

And this one of him coming out of the water into the bike transition area

And then I left because these Half Ironman races are LONG, like 6 hours long. So I tooled around town in his car and helped myself to a Vogue and a Starbucks but I made it back in perfect time to catch him rounding the turn towards the finish.

Et voila! He finished yet another one!

So the question remains, do I or do I not accept a date from our mysteriously recovered suitor from 4 months past?

Have a great day!!

Labor Pains, pt 2

Happy Friday Readers!

So whence I last left off, I had spent a good part of the holiday weekend eating, drinking, shopping and generally just being merry all throughout this fair city of New York. I also left you with a teaser pic of me laying horizontal (not the good kind!) on the floor.

I should mention that while I was absent from blogging, I had no less than a handful of frantic messages everyday wondering about my whereabouts. In my previous blog post, I am passed out on the floor and NOT ONE ounce of concern. Thanks guys.

Well I can’t stay mad at you. Here’s what happened the rest of the weekend.

In a previous,  famously crowd pleasing post I had mentioned that when the weather is warm in New York, those with the good fortune of having a rooftop will share their enviable real estate  stake in NY by hosting rooftop parties throughout the summer. Since Labor Day marks the end of summer Fridays and (in the old days) wearing white (totally acceptable now) a few of my lucky friends with rooftops invited us over to enjoy what was left of this painfully short summer.

Joe hosted a casual BBQ that we headed over to late on Saturday night. As you may remember, it was at his BBQ where marshmallows made an appearance on the grill to later be transformed into s’mores.

We had gorgeous views of all of Manhattan but seeing as how it was getting late and Molls, DP, BFF and I had plans to hit yet another all day roof party the next day at Minn Twin’s I showed myself out.  BUT my well worn sandals against the recently polished wood of his steps caused a violent mishap! I slipped horribly and fell down the stairs IN FLATS. I was in a horrible amount of pain, shock, and embarrassment and paralyzed by the tragedy of it all.

While on the floor, I also marinated over the fact that I have NEVER fallen in heels. I also started to cry which is why there is kleenex covering my face.

Anyway one painful cab ride later I was safe and sound at home and had to rest up for Sunday’s rooftop festivities at Minn Twin’s.

I have previously also posted about a soiree held at Minn Twin’s earlier this year; he also has a gorgeous rooftop and being the (kinda) generous soul he is,  he hosted an end of summer bash for all of us.  We trekked out to Brooklyn and as we waited at the bottom of the steps for Minn Twin to retrieve us, I couldn’t help but notice some new decorative accents(?) in his stair well.

Upon closer examination and a brief explanation from the Minn Twin himself, we realized that they are the remnants of the sunflowers he had grown on the rooftop. He was now drying them to harvest and toast the seeds

Sometimes, I swear that if I hadn’t sampled the goods for myself. . . well after seeing something like this I wouldn’t necessarily hesitate to question the orientation of the Minn Twin.

Gay dried flower swags aside, I was reminded of how Minn Twin, as a very straight guy, commissioned my fashion expertise to refine his tastes. We are not yet through with the project, but he decided on a safe head to toe J Crew ensemble. And it’s clear that even after only one shopping trip, his influence as a tastemaker is being felt.

DP participated in a wedding the previous night and was feeling beyond tired but still put on a smiley party face.

He too was in a head to toe J Crew ensemble.

Though things got violent after I asked him to smile ONE too many times. And I was punished by a headlock.

It good to know that even when I’m being attacked, my hair stays obedient.

Minn Twin and I also put on a good show for the cameras, smiling nicely and all – this picture is going into the church yearbook. . .

And then the camera captured a not so demure shot; one NOT for the church yearbook.

After being assaulted with a deadly American beer, it was time to feast! Minn Twin served  up a delicious spread of (housemade pickles [insert joke here]; tandoori chicken and sausages [again insert joke here]; braised mushroom caps [I could go all day]; and grilled corn on the cob [I got nothin'])

The weather started to get a little chillier as the night progressed so Minn Twin was relegated into jeans and showed off his new Red Wing boots, a purchase I am just in LOVE with!

After we moved the party inside, the natives were getting restless so we headed down his street to a local dive bar. We had played card games, drinking games, and head games all night so I found a game of my own to play at this joint.

After one high

scoring game of Ms Pacman Molls, BFF, and I headed home since AGAIN I would be getting up bright and early for part two of THE MINN TWIN MAKEOVER!!!!

So as I had mentioned earlier in this post, I have been assisting Minn Twin in a make-better project, we are elevating his style with some key new pieces and already he is advancing in leaps and bounds! Minn Twin had told me when this project first started that he was really serious about getting a quality suit. I had definitely intended on taking him to the much lauded Barney’s Warehouse sale on the last day where the discounts were steep but the competition high.

I’m no fool, I know that the Barney’s sale on the last day requires high levels of caffeination.

Unfortunately, Minn Twin did not get that memo as was evident by the 100% UNKOSHER crankypants text he sent me as I was running a little late.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Minn Twin Makeover:

Part 1) Clothes
Part 2) Chivalry

As made clear by the text above, he was in fact downstairs when I was finally able to make my way through the throngs of discount hungry shoppers. He was already trying on suit jackets.

I picked this one out immediately for it’s dark charcoal color and 2 button construction also if you look carefully there is a slight purple windowpane print in the fabric.

He hated this.

Ok onto the next.

A lighter grey two button suit perhaps? I thought it was gorgeous and beautifully made. Unfortunately it was still seriously expensive because it was made by this guy.

I swear to you, drop me off in a sea of 1,000,000 suits and I will blindly, without fail pick the most expensive one.

Miraculously after several tries, we found him a winner!

A beautiful charcoal grey, Burberry suit for a mere $400!!! Down from it’s original price tag of $1500. Definite score.

So with the main purpose of the the day’s shopping down,  we were able to peruse through the infinite racks and bins of clothing for more deals.

I’m love, love, loving gingham as the go to print for guys right now. Sort of like what stripes were 4 years ago. I also love a guy who can rock lavender, this shirt marries both of those things together.

He can wear it to work, or rock it with jeans, his new Red Wing boots, and a newly purchased un pictured Men’s Theory trenchcoat (swoon!!!!)

I also taught him a valuable lesson in layering

I also learned a valuable lesson in self restraint as I tried on this GORGEOUS, Band of Outsiders tuxedo jacket in this silhouette

But in this print

As I Googled egg donating options to pay for my jacket (again!) from my Blackberry I also learned that the Barney’s sale has their own rules as well.

If my mother has taught me anything it’s that you can’t make men shop for too long without feeding them. Minn Twin started the day off cranky and  even though he looked like this now. . .

I knew there needed to be some major brunch action to keep him at bay. We waited in line for a great Chelsea brunch spot called Cafeteria, that is actually the inspiration for the diner that the Sex and the City girls frequented. We started to refuel slowly. . .

So Minn Twin found the energy to partake in the post Barney’s sale tradition of showing off all the  great deals that were scored, while waiting for the food to come.

Blue banker stripe, Barney’s label short for work.

Lavender gingham Barney’s label shirt!

John Varvatos flax colored henley!

Inhabit, stone colored henley!

James Perse grey long sleeved tee!

Also, unpictured Theory trench coat and grey Burberry suit!

After all the show and tell, the food finally arrived!

Minn Twin feasted on housemade biscuits and gravy.

I ordered a ginormous croissant breakfast sandwich with turkey bacon and avocado!

And Molls ordered their famous “Mac Attack” a tasting of their 3 macaroni and cheese offerings (applewood bacon, fontina, and truffled gruyere!)

After all this conspicuous consumption I felt as though I Labored through far too much of New York. But it’s weekends like this when you feel as though the weather is gainfully on your side and there is such a plethora of things to do that I am grateful for my bustling city especially when soon the mercury will drop low  and all I have will be the memories of weekends like this to get me through until Spring.

Happy Friday!!

Labor Pains

Dearest Lovelies,

I hope you all had an enjoyable three-day weekend!  Now before I start my massive “War and Peace” length tome re: Labor Day weekend, let me preface the post by clarifying that the title of this post by no means presupposes that the past 4 day’s festivities were by any means painful in a bad way. The “pains” in question can successfully be filed under the John Cougar Mellancamp column of “hurt soo good” like laughing too hard or watching any of those TV shows about finding love . . .on VH-1.  Let’s get this fiesta started!

My weekend kicked off with a fabulous treat! My dearest friend Molls came out to visit me, all the way out from Southern California.  Backstory: Molls used to be my roommate here in NYC but 4 yrs ago moved back to our hometown,  good news is she visits frequently. Her trips to New York can best be quantified by the immortal words of my mom

“Oh, Monday is Labor Day. That means the bank is closed, so Molls is probably coming into NYC. When the bank’s closed, Molls comes to see you. Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Martin Luther King Day, Columbus Day, Labor Day. I can’t deposit checks because Molls is in New York.”

True story.

So having been a former NYC dweller herself she knows that the two best things to do while in this town of ours is 1) eat and 2) shop. Luckily her timing was perfect because her visit fortuitously fell on the last week of the Barney’s Warehouse sale. The hap, happiest time of the year!

As sure as the sun rises and sets, two times a year the lovely folks over at Barney’s hold a HUGE sale of all the past season’s goods at practically giveaway prices. The sale lasts for about 3 weeks and as the sale continues, the prices drop even lower as the end date nears. I train for this like Michael Phelps trains for the Olympics, this is my favorite shopping moment of the year.

Molls tends to luckily be here for the sale and as tradition, SGO and I go to the sale, hit a wonderfully well lit restaurant and show off our new bounty while waiting for our food.

After a marathon shopping session Molls,  SGO,and I headed to what  I consider to be home of my favorite pizza, Lombardi’s.

As you can read for yourself, it also happens to be the first pizzeria in the USA. Holding this claim to fame, the line usually reflects throngs of worshipers ready to pay homage at the pork laden, non Kosher pizza mecca.

The wait is well worth it and this window allowed ample time for displaying the contents of our bountiful shopping bags.

SGO made out like a Vogue wielding bandit with a gorgeous banded, organza Proenza Schouler confection for a mere pittance.

More on what I got later. . . it was time to eat.

Molls, SGO, and I have made this trek to SoHo so many times the menu seems like a very un-green waste of paper.  Our order was  pretty much placed in the cab on the way there.

We always start with a house made Caesar salad. . .

Before moving on to the large pepperoni pizza . . .

That we have affectionately nicknamed “grease cup pie”

I have no idea why

I normally despise pepperoni on pizza but somehow the first pizzeria in the USA got it right. . . for all the subsequent pizzerias to get it wrong. Can you hear me Little Caesars???

Conveniently for food porn, inconveniently for my fall wardrobe, Lombardi’s is across the street from a primo dessert local. The ever whimsical always delicious rice pudding joint ‘Rice to Riches.’ Besides holding the key to the best rice pudding in the city Rice to Riches always demonstrates a playful cheeky attitude that is most obvious in their signage.

I also love the juxtaposition of the hyper modern/sci fi surroundings dedicated to such a  homey, traditional (old folkey) dessert. There’s even an automated ordering machine that allows to you ship any of their myriad flavors (a la dulce de leche, mango, rocky road, mascarpone cherry, rum raisin, french toast, coconut) anywhere in the country!

I shipped myself back to my apartment, manned with a questionably full belly and Barney’s shopping bag and started to devise outfits for my newly purchased gold skirt! I had mentioned earlier in the post about how the prices get lower as the sale continues, so after years of  shopping research I have cultivated the perfect strategy when shopping at the Barney’s Warehouse sale.

Never wait for shoes or things you ABSOLUTELY love (and don’t see more than 3 of) almost everything else will lower considerably in price as the sale continues.

I had dangerously shopped the sale early and avoided purchasing an AMAZING Dries Van Noten gold lurex skirt in hopes that the shopping powers that be (and or a bribed security guard) would save it for me. After two hours at the sale with Molls and SGO I had given up hope (but self medicated with another Dries skirt and Stella McCartney black stovepipe pants)  after one final run through I felt not unlike Charlie Bucket as I saw a glint of gold peeking out from behind a rack.

Eureka! I struck couture gold! I had the golden ticket!

If there was ever to be a Willy Wonka of fashion, Dries Van Noten would be it.

I promptly started to rummage through my closets to find outfits for my newly acquired skirt.

Just promise to act surprised when you see me in one of these outfits during one of the Fall issues of Ohlivin

Needing to burn off the calories from the previous night’s culinary indiscretions, I headed out for a run bright and early Saturday AM and continued my morning o’ cardio by heading out for more shopping with Molls where we promptly met up with BFF at DSW.

My relationship with DSW can best be described as ambivilant. On the one hand I feel like there’s good reason so many of these shoes are marked down: they. are. ugly. But on the other hand, I can literally make shoe lemonade out of crap shoes (I think I lost the metaphor there) so I will ALWAYS find something I like. To prove my point I decided to play a round of “best/worst” with Molls and  BFF. I gave them each 5 minutes to come up with the best and worst shoe in the entire store and boy were the shoes ripe for the pickin’!!

Molls produced these python Jimmy Choos for best:

And in a surprising turn both Molls and BFF provided more or less the same shoe for worst.

Upon closer (gross) examination, and a judges ruling I had to give the dubious honour of worst shoe to Molls’ selection for the sheer fact that we are 99% sure these shoes were worn in by someone and left behind only to be reticketed.

Though we were utterly disgusted by the dirty, Lakers colored, wedge flip flop we somehow mustered up the will to eat, mostly because we knew we were headed to eat one of my top 5 favorite meals in New York.

We treked over to the West Village to Mary’s Fish Camp, a small shack dedicated to bringing Manhattanites the best lobster roll in town. Again, the meal was pre-decided and menus were a waste of printer ink because Molls and I never veer off course here. We always start with the fried clams and oysters.

And then we moved on to the crab beignets; light as air and painfully delicious these are what crabcakes wish they could be on their best day.

And for the main/Maine event we shared the famous Mary’s Fish Camp lobster roll. $30 and worth every penny.

As we rolled out of the restaurant we couldn’t help but notice that the weather was gainfully on our side. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a hint of humidity in the air so we made our way further downtown to hit the Seaport and the newly built water taxi beach.

We were well on our way but not 100 yards from our destination I spied a J. Crew so obviously I had to stop and kiss the glass.

Homegirl and I will both be rocking this jacket come Fall, but again act surprised when you see me wearing the above outfit in coming Ohlivin posts.

After I lit a candle for the gorgeousness that is J Crew, we continued on our trek to the Water Taxi Beach. Now, the South Street Seaport is a tourist hub located downtown in the Financial District of New York. It’s almost always busy when the weather is cooperative and so the powers that be took the opportunity to bring in 3 tons of sand to build a make shift beach for those New Yorkers who haven’t skipped town for the Hamptons.

You can sit at benches and eat, drink, read ‘Vogue’, fall out of your ill fitting bathing suit, dig your toes in the sand, whatever.

All while enjoying sweeping views of Brooklyn.

Continuing our nautical themed day (seafood, water taxi beach, my ocean sized love of J Crew) we decided that rather than hit our local bar that is pretty much. . .

but has no shortage of interesting wall grafitti.

I decided that we should hit one of my favorite fair weather spots, the Frying Pan, a bar(ge) off the west side of the city, docked in the Hudson river that offers primo city/Jersey views, sea air, and plenty of tunes and beers.

While the Frying Pan is many things, being photogenic at night is not one of its stronger suits.

I swear it’s totally fun and not creepy although in these pictures it looks about as much fun as a David Fincher movie.

I mean, you can’t fake this kind of excitement, clearly BFF is thoroughly stoked to be here.

This mega sized Labor Day weekend post has been fun to compose and it already makes me wistful so in an effort to get to bed at a decent hour stretch the fun memories of the weekend as long as possible, I will continue with a part 2 post later this week.  But I will not leave you high and dry, ever your loyal blogger I will leave you with a teaser pic of what’s to come.

Dios Mio!! Will I live to shop/blog/man trap another day?

**What about Minn Twin’s makeover?**

**What about DP?**

Stay tuned to find out!

I hope you all had a wonderful three day weekend!!!

My Fair Lady, pt 2

Happy Hump Day Dearest Lovelies!

So I am continuing my crazy fair antics today the part 2 of Monday’s part 1 if you will. So whence we left off Brittania, DP, and I had consumed the caloric equivalent of the GDP of a medium sized African nation.

I also saw a baby tiger.

Now that you’re all caught up. . . let us continue.

So after some grubbin, we thought it best to partake in the only cardio activity available at the fair, shopping. Unfortunately, the fair isn’t like some amazing vintage flea market where you can find a Hermes Birkin bag from the 70’s if you look hard enough. I had visions of finding some lost forgotten treasure like a Pierre Cardin scarf or vintage YSL necklace. I was sadly mistaken.

Rather, the shopping was akin to what you would see on the TV if you were an insomniac and happened to turn on the tube at 4 in the morning.

The best clothes we found for purchase, were not in our size.

I can’t stress enough how browsing  through the fair shopping tents was exactly like walking through your TV at 4am. Don’t believe me?
They were selling SHAMWOWS!! But without this guy. .

Brittania and I were enthralled by the pick up ability of these things. . .but not enough to actually buy any.

There were  aisles of dreamcatchers and grandfather clocks for days. I felt like I was in the world’s worst Price is Right showcase showdown until I spied this!

Since fair shopping didn’t fulfill my cardio or closet needs I rushed at the chance to exercise at the fair for free!

It was fun for about 2.2 seconds until I realized, like everything else in the shopping tent, it was total junk. This is about as good a workout as . . . shopping in the fair tents.

But the shopping portion of the day was not a TOTAL wash, it was here I found the ONLY OTHER ASIAN person at the fair!

Literally, I’m not even kidding.

So after our shopping it was time to head over to the auction. I was thrilled at the prospect of this because I have attended more than a few art auctions before and found comfort in participating in a familiar activity. Until, I found out they were auctioning steer, goats, pigs, rabbits and chickens.  I guess this was the fair’s way of combining shopping, eating, and games – you shop for food against other people.

I’m starting the letter writing campaign now for a Scrabble tent for next year.

We had to watch the auction because DP needed to raise the bids on the first cow up for auction so he was handed a paddle and off we went. I was sitting in the bleachers quite contently until I felt a pang in my chest after seeing this sight. . .

A spider walking along the beam right before the auction of a champion pig!! It took me back to one of my favorite childhood literary works, “Charlotte’s Web” and then I realized what it is that they plan on doing with the prize animals once they are sold. I had visions of a happy blue ribbon pinned cow chewing on grass in a field with blond children in overalls running around it with a daisy chain until DP asked me to remind him that if he won the pig, to ask for it “whole” not “in a bag.” Then I cried inconsolably and was banished to the city girl corner.

That was fine for Brittania and I, since it gave us an excuse to leave the auction and find a completely hidden spot to sit to eat our newest fair treat.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present deep fried Oreos. God Bless America these suckers were delicious, but in a once every 3 years kinda way. Also there may or may not have been the consumption of a unpictured funnel cake. I can neither confirm nor deny anything.

The natives were getting restless after the auction and I was determined to find something to spend money on that wasn’t gonna cause my heart to stop beating (in the bad way) so we meandered over to the other side of the fair grounds for some open air shopping. So in stall I like to call WTF, they were selling lightly worn/maybe new but smelled, pre embroidered clothes. So everything from gas station jackets to jumpsuits to waitress uniforms with names ALREADY emblazoned on them were up for sale.  DP excitedly found a vest with his name on it and promptly tried it on. . .

What you can’t tell from this picture is that the vest ends just beyond the frame ergo it was way too short for him to wear without looking “suspicious.”

Since it became increasingly clear that  I was not going to be able to outfit myself in anything found at the fair, we thought it best to enjoy some of the free entertainment. And I don’t know about you, but when  I think of “free entertainment” I think of lederhosen wearing, unicycle riding, juggling Germans named Hilby. But that’s just me.

Apparently the New York Times thinks he’s pretty great too.

The day was getting late and it was soon time to go, but not before DP said goodbye to everyone’s favorite baby, Baby Nate.

Brittania and I headed to our guest accommodations to wake up bright and early the next day. Unfortunately we were unable to attend the fair on Sunday, because we both had plans back in the city but DP chronicled the event I was most excited to see, the stick pony rodeo!! Both nieces A1 and A2 were participating and I so wanted to cheer them both on but DP cheered enough for the both of us.

Basically the children at the fair have a chance to compete in rodeo style events while riding one of these

I am happy to announce that A1 won the barrel riding event in record time!

This is her proud uncle’s handy iPhone photography.

I drove DPs car back into the city and he was slated to take the train in on Monday PM, having DP’s car automatically means that we made a beeline for the nearest Target. If you don’t know by now, Target is my happiest place on Earth. Unsure about whether or not dogs are allowed to enter the hallowed doors of Target, I did my best to smuggle my Manny in and found his celebrity impression skills to be quite extraordinary.

Everywhere you went, he did a spot on impression of some sort or another.

We finally arrived home and I felt content with my memories of food and the general experience of my first fair. But leave it to DP to come home ,a day later, with tangible memories of the fair in tow.

Only he would have the good sense and sheer muscle to bring home a 9lb brisket and a body pillow full of kettle corn on the train to Manhattan.

Which just goes to show, that you can take the boy outta the fair but you can’t take the fair outta the boy.

My Fair Lady

Hello dear readers,

Happy Monday! I am proud to announce that I spent my Saturday participating in my VERY FIRST county fair! As a result I’m pretty sure I’ll also be participating in my (not-so  first) juice cleanse.

What many of you DP stalkers may not know is that he is actually a farm boy! That’s right, DP was born and raised in upstate New York and spent a great deal of his childhood working with steer (cows), rodeos (places for cows to show off?) and drinking goats milk. So for boys like that (and by “that” I mean those who grew up in a town with one stop light), their version of Christmas is the County Fair. I obviously was invited along because 1) I am the most fun person ever and 2) seeing a self proclaimed city girl such as myself in such pastoral surroundings makes for one zany “Green Acres” style blog post.

Brittania and I awoke bright and (uncharacteristically) early on Saturday morning to hitch a train to Poughkeepsie. On said train we partook of the ONLY healthful offering the either of us would ingest in the coming 24 hours. (I’m warning you, it gets baaaaad)

The fact that we ate a packed snack of crudite on the train is laughable. It was like doing half of one sit up before entering a pie eating contest. Oh city girls . . .silly, silly city girls. . .

The plans were to crash at DP’s childhood friend, Tony’s,  pad that night and we dropped off our Louis Vuitton luggage and a pile of hat boxes (jk) at his place before heading off to the fair but not before we noticed that we weren’t the first guests to arrive in the guest room.

Tony is getting married next week and the remnants from his fiancee’s bachelorette party have not yet been hidden away from company and/or company’s blog picture capturing camera.

There was a fair awaiting us so we made haste! . . . to the bank . . .DP never carries cash on him so we had to stop off at the local bank for him to get some cash because as I would soon find out (the hard way) that if you want kettle corn or a pony ride  . .  . you can’t use American Express, EUROs, or barter with the  guy’s wife with a pair of Chanel ballet flats.
At the Dutchess County Fair, cash is king.

But a banal task such as going to the bank isn’t so boring up in them thar parts because I saw, for the very first time, one of those sucky uppy tube thingies!!!

That’s right folks, SUCKY UPPY TUBE THINGIES. Which I had never seen before in person but, to my credit, I have seen them many times in this HILARIOUS commercial.

When you’re not from ’round these parts, everything seems fun and wildly new. I felt like a wide eyed kid even just walking from the parking lot towards the fair, especially since the oft asked, yet to be answered question “Where’s the beef?” was finally answered!!

It’s to the left, the beef is to the left.

Our first stop was the horticulture exhibit.  To my understanding there are blue ribbons to be won, and those are like the Fair equivalent of being on a best dressed list. So all these landscapers were trying to be the best dressed exhibit on the lot. I however, did not try so hard. . .

The landscapers were not allowed to use milkshake wielding, somewhat questionably dressed Asian girls in their displays; however, they were able to use just about anything else and we saw a barrage of both good and bad  landscaping ideas such as . . .taxidermied wolves (bad!)  and giant blown up pictures (good!).

DP was breathing, which meant he was hungry so we left the plants for some grub. Now as a Fair virgin, I literally lost my mind – Brittania and I were beyond overwhelmed at all the food choices that ranged from Jimmy Buffet approved coconut shrimp to deep fried Oreos to meatball subs the size of a baby grand piano.

We decided on a “marathon not sprint” mentality whence it came to eating fair far, a marathon where you get your hand stamped AND diabetes at the end of it. We surveyed our options carefully. . .

Depp fried pickles? Pass

Strawberry Shortcake? Not yet. Something savory perhaps?

A cinnamon bun the size of a grown man’s outstretched palm?  No, I. Said. SAVORY!

DP was growing restless and more hungry during our careful examination of eats. He takes a less philosophical approach to eating and made a bee-line for the closest booth. So, potato pancakes for DP it was!

NOM NOM NOM

There was still quite a bit of surveying to do . . .

But finally Brittany and I decided on curly cheese fries and pierogies, respectively.

As any good marathoner will tell you, carbo loading is the key to success.

Seeing as how we were on a quest to end our lives short, Brittania and I thought it ironic that we go see the “Miracle of Life” (MOL) exhibit next.  Basically it’s a barn yard version of that video you watch in the 6th grade about how babies are born.  The MOL is comprised of ADORABLE farm animal babies the likes of which you have all probably seen on a co-workers fliptop calendar or needlepointed on a pillow at your grandma’s house.\

There were chicks and kids!

Baby Tiger!

AND PIGGIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

Since this whole Fair was basically one big lesson in bucolic life 101, I learned that cows have very predictable gestation periods, about 9 months – like humans! So they purposely impregnate a number of cows and coincide their due date with every day of the fair so they can synchronize the birth of a baby calf with every day during the week!

Those weren’t the only babies in attendance . . .my favorite  little guys made a repeat showing!

DP’s niece A2 and nephew Baby Nate!

DP’s angel niece, A1 and her newly acquired puppet.

Obviously I had to eat something to fill the emptiness in my womb so we headed off for some more grub.

After the carb binge of the late morning, we thought protein was the order of the day.

Perhaps something a little less. . . proteiny?

A gyro!!! Perfect. It’s like practically eating a salad.

Now at the request of Brittania I am stretching out this Fair post. Mostly for the purpose of vanity and not wanting to admit that we ate THIS MUCH FOOD in one day. So I leave you here, to be carried off into the sunset with a continuation of the fair festivities tomorrow.  Time to mosey out!

Did you my lovelies have a great weekend??

Threes. . . Pt 2

Happy Hump Day everyone! I’m getting my proverbial feet wet back into the blogging world, slowly but surely I am composing new posts for you all to read but I have yet to start reading all your lovely posts. . . one step at a time. I will be back to reading and commenting today – I promise!

Anyway, on Monday I promised another 3 themed post and I will not let you down. Get ready for your super sized DP serving for the day!

A while back, I posted what to this day is one of the top 3 Ohlivin posts of all time - a chronicling of a triathlon but mostly a chronicling of DP being the most DPish he’s ever been in his entire life. For those of you wondering . . .DP stands for “Disney Prince.”

German engineering problems aside, that particular day was a fun adventure and watching triathlons has been added onto my continually growing list of how to meet amazing looking men fun things to do on the weekend.

Again, I didn’t sleep a wink the night leading into the triathlon since I rarely sleep before 3 on weekends and triathlon days require a 4am wake up call. I find it alarming to leave the apartment in what is allegedly the “morning” and to have it be dark . . unless of course you live in Alaska . . . and it’s the winter time. DP and I loaded the car with  all the triathlon essentials.

DP had bought me the kettle corn 8 hours earlier from a street fair since he knew it was my favorite.  And thank god he did because on many occasions, this kettle corn saved my life.

DP revved the engine and off we went!

We drove through Connecticut listening to an Ohlivin approved soundtrack of Shakira’s “She Wolf” and tons of Kelly Clarkson. . .and of course the self penned “It’s soo hot in the kitchen song” (Minn Twin’s favorite!) and by the time we arrived at the tri sight, the sun was just starting to rise.

This one’s for you Sarah!

I had mentioned in the previous triathlon post about how they advertise your age on your left calf and I found this to be a helpful tool while man trapping. Well apparently you can female trap as well because the guy manned with the giant Sharpie flirtatiously asked if he could write  my age on my calf and guessed that I must have been “what, 24?” That made me love him automatically. We are registered at Williams Sonoma and Target and I see us being very happy together.

Sure, sir I will be 24. Any chance I have to rewind back to my early twenties, I take. Nevermind that it washed off in the shower.

There is a lot of advertising that goes on at these events; though I suspect someone needs to pay attention to who’s doing the media buying because clearly they are reaching out to the wrong audience. I think the “The is why American’s are obese” convention is next weekend.

Because that’s what Americans  need: BLUE MOUNTAIN DEW.

So something you may not know is, that the best things about these tris (besides the awesome assortment of cute boys) is that there is a tri SWAG BAG!! Heck, yes – free stuff that all the participants get and since they are universally the same for both female and male triathletes so I get to keep some of the goods since I raid the bag before DP even gets a chance to look at it DP kindly hands it over to me after registration.

The last triathlon bag was better but triathlon watching beggars can’t be choosers so this is what I made off with this time.

A deluxe sample of salty sweet chasews, Bear Naked granola, an awesome woman razor and LIFE CHANGING NO SLIP HAIR TIES, and half a bag of brown rice depending on whether or not DP wants it.

DP totally got gypped because he got 1 sample of gu (which is like energy gell you eat while you run/bike) 1 sample of udderly smooth heavy duty lotion, 1 sample of rev raw bar (that I eventually ate this week) and 1 plastic bottle – WHO EVEN DRINKS OUT OF PLASTIC ANYMORE. . .what is this 1997???? Maybe I’ll get my hair cut like Jennifer Aniston’s too while we’re in this time warp.

I just realized I’m getting painfully tired so I think I’ll have to cut this post lamely short. I promise not to leave you in a lurch. I know all you care about are DP pics anyway so here they are.

Blah blah blah DP blah blah blah.

wetsuit hanging off his body blah blah DP

It really is a wonder I’m able to catch him in photos during the biking portion of the triathlon. Normally by the time you realize it’s someone you know they’ve already long gone . . but I am a triathlon picture taking machine!!

And there was an adorable half Asian baby sitting on a surfboard. The End. JKLOLZ.

Anyway. I always pick a triathlon boyfriend and this time the lucky guy was triathlete number 205. Oh man was he “dimey.” Though I previously professed my talent as a wizard biking photographer, I think where I truly excel is taking the discreet stalkerific photo. That is, taking sneaky pictures of a guy while pretending to take a picture of something else.

Now the question mark in the first photo leads me to my final comment. Most of these guys have the prescience to buy dark colored bike shorts though there are the few penny pinchers who are tempted by a discount to opt for another color. Well, for all my athletically inclined male readers out there. . . please dont. This is one instance where it behooves you to stay on the dark side.

And I am hopelessly reminded of a chain email I reeived a few years ago entitled “Why bike shorts are black”

So while I condone and promote color every season  from a fashion perspective I think there is only one thing that can be said for bike shorts and that is “black is the new and only black.”

Happy Wednesday lovelies!!

Tragedies and Other Things That Come in Threes.

Good Morning Dearest Lovelies! Happy Monday! (is there such a thing?? . . .hrm . . . )

Anyway I do have to say that I missed each and every one of you and am ready to get back into the blogging saddle again. Kinda.

I think I felt hesitant to return because I was scared about the mega post I would have to compile to mark my return into the blogosphere and as a result I kept pushing it further and further back  before realizing the longer I wait the BIGGER the post. Soo much  has happened so let’s get started.

So the title of this post is a bit abstract (for me) but I needed to find something that could best encompass all the goings on and happenings of the past ten days. Ten days ago we were fresh off the celebrity death trifecta of: MJ, Farrah and Oxy Clean so I got to thinking. . . celebrity deaths come in threes and conveniently so did a lot of the other things I happened to do in the past 10 days so . . title? check. Now for the rest of the post. . .

Three little munchkins. . .

The other day DP and I took his 2 nieces and baby nephew to the zoo.

When I find myself surrounded by adorable, cherubic looking, baby faces and/or watching the “plus 8” on Jon and Kate I always find myself at a personal crossroads: kids or not to kids. . .that is the question.

It’s no secret that I eventually want children some day and there is a part of me that secretly wants a brood of 5 little half Asian dream babies.  Conversely, then there is the part of me that takes 3 kids to the zoo and spends half the day taking the girls to the bathroom, crying in the stall, and making donations to Planned Parenthood 3 times throughout the day.

I jest, it wasn’t bad at all but MAN was it exhausting. I haven’t gone to bed before midnight in YEARS.

DP and I planned on going to the Bronx zoo because 1) he loves his nieces and nephew and 2) I have never been and 3) I am a super amazing babysitter.

I warn you there are pictures up ahead of DP with adorable children. . . Feel free to save them and Photoshop yourselves into them at a later date

We arrived early to avoid the heat and the crowds and his eldest niece, A1, fell and scraped her knee while she was running towards us to greet us in the morning. After crying, she felt grumpy and camera shy and pouted for a little bit.

But then her little brother, Baby Nate just looked at me. . . .

And you could actually HEAR my ovaries weep.

We wanted to take advantage of as many of the sights as possible as we knew the heat and crowds would only grow stronger as the day went on so we checked out the lions!

And (tall) tigers!

And lemurs (couldn’t get a good picture of a bear . . .sorry) oh my!**

At the tiger exhibit they posted a real life sized tiger height measure. . . way more interesting than the ones by the door of a 7-11. DP is tall at 6’3’’ but has nothing on the tiger. . . even armed with niece, A2.

DPs mom has a debilitating fear of birds so she left us for a major portion of the sight seeing.
She missed our real life postage stamp photo op.

The Harry Potter star meet n greet

And a PUFFIN!!  Unfortunately for both Homegirl and me, this particular puffin was NOT peanut butter.

And before long we got a look into the fuuuuture. . . .

It just takes one expired condom and it’s adios convertible, hola  minivan!!

Speaking of adios, near the exit of the zoo, there are these cute little cut-outs that offer adorable photo ops for your favorite little. . .

. . . and not so little cuties

**Note it took like 10 minutes of coaxing to get DP to agree to this

Triple Tragedies. . .

Now I’m not going to compare any of these subsequent “tragedies” to actual death, but in many ways there has been some bad news going around these parts and I will share with you in increasing order of “tragic-ness.”

1)  Girlfriend is on a self/bank account imposed spending freeze. Ergo, I am not allowed to buy $900 dollar, Dries van Noten DREAM shoes even if they are on sale for a very reasonable $375. . .

Ahhhhhhhhhh x1000000000000

I’m considering donating an egg. I had very high SAT scores, my family has no history of illness, and I’m tall. I figure I could get a good 8k for one. . . .hmmm. Pros: I could get the Dries shoes and then some Cons: I wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again thinking that there was a child out there with half of my genetic make up. Operation: Fail.

BUT all is not lost, being the savvy recessionista I am, I was able to find these amazingly chic, never worn Nine West (yawn, I know) stunners for $7.50 at the vintage store by me!!!

So all in all, not a true tragedy.

Moving on to bigger and worse things. . . .

2) After DP and I left the zoo, he put his top down (as one does if you are in lucky ownership of a convertible and a lovely day) and closed his driver side door only to have it SHATTER INTO A JILLION PIECES. Broken glass everywhere!!!

A rainstorm of shards rained upon us on a crystal clear day!! In the Bronx no less!

DP in typical DP fashion apologized to me for the delay in getting us home. Oh DP! And we both quickly swept aside what glass we could so we didn’t lacerate our bottoms en route to the apartment. But all in all he got it fixed in no time and insurance reimbursed him the full amount. Also not a complete tragedy.

And now on to the capital of tragic-istan

3) Minn Twin is seriously injured. Sigh. This rates highest on  my Ohlivin tragedy scale for the week because he was supposed to continue with a Dating Oh’s piece but alas, he has suffered from a MAJOR water skiing incident and has been incapacitated!  MNT came over to the apartment after his DP ordered MRI (could there BE anymore abbreviations in one sentence??!!) and DP issued the bad news about his seriously injured shoulder/lungs/ ribs.

Quite a bit to pout about!

He injured himself while in Minnesota  during a  2 week stay (look for a guest post!!)  and stuck it out like a macho man, only turns out that he is seriously wounded. In appreciation of DP’s heroics and to offer comfort to MNT during his hospice, I offered to cook dinner for the boys. I know the one thing that makes me feel better when I’m down . . . KOREAN FOOD!!!

Zucchini and scallion pancakes!!

Korean BBQ Short Ribs over brown rice and braised leeks!

The boys cleaned their plates and I offered MNT company and my perfectly working shoulders for a Saturday trip to Trader Joe’s so he could appropriately stock his pantry during his stay on the disabled list.

On my visit to his his abode, I saw (much to my dismay) a House/Courtney Love/Paula Abdul approved bounty of prescription meds.

After he was properly drugged we headed to Trader Joe’s so he could fill up on amazingly priced, nourishing food that would get him back into fighting/banking shape in no time.

And while it’s not Vicodin, I’m sure the restorative powers of a brownie/chocolate ice cream sample rank seriously high.

Although injured, Minn Twin never ceases to be a good kindergarten teacher host. He provided me with a snack of fruit punch, crackers, and hummus.

And although injured, Minn Twin never ceases to be Minn Twin. I mentioned in an earlier post about his adorably OCD tendencies. So even though he’s on 9 horse tranquilizers. MNT still has to empty out his pantry, organize the shelves and his new purchases with all the labels facing the same direction.

It’s all adorable until you see ‘Sleeping with the Enemy.”

And now as my little gift to you all for being an absolutely delinquent blogger, I have posted a video!!
Now, I need to preface this video with like 100 disclaimers. 1) My voice does not sound like this in real life 2) I am not as annoying in real life as this video would suggest 3) Minn Twin is on like a jillion drugs and a bit loopy and exhausted  4) I know there are 7 Continents in the modern world today, but historically they used to count 9 – sort of like how Pluto was a planet and now it isn’t 5) “my song” in question is a song I authored this week because it’s been soo oppressively hot here in NY and it goes a little something like this. . .

“It’s soo hot in the kitchen. . .
It’s soo hot in the apartment. . .
It’s soo hot in New York, in general. . .
I think I’ll move to ANTARCTICA!!!!”

Now with no more interruptions. . .I now present Ohlivin’s very first video!!

I was gonna write about two more “three” related things. . .but I needed something for tomorrow. Triathlon and three course meal post tomorrow!!!

Until then you can just keep watching the video! Happy Monday!

Preview: Tragedies and Other Things That Come in Threes . . .

Hi Everyone!

As promised, I’m not dead. But I want to thank you all for your genuine concern and emails and comments. I find great solace in the fact that if I were ever to be abducted, you my rapt, concerned, fabulous audience would alert the proper authorities.

So I am aware that my readership drops a little over the weekend- no doubt you are all busy running around living your fabulous lives and can’t be bothered to sit in front of a screen so I am just simply announcing my return today with a two picture teaser of the MAXI- SIZED SUPER POST coming on Monday.

Obviously, there are shoes involved.

And same goes for boys. . . .

Why is Minn Twin pouting??. . .You’ll find out Monday!!!

And as a consolation for abandoning you all for the past 10 days I made sure DP wasn’t wearing a shirt did not black out DP or Minn Twin’s faces. You’re very welcome.

Looking forward to Monday,

xoxo

OO

Not Dead

Sorry all. I have had a few panicked messages from you dear readers asking if I am still alive. I am still alive, kicking, and shopping – I have just been blog lazy is all.

I promise there will be new posts this week.  Must. . .find. . . will. . .to type!

Works Hard for the Money

Happy Wednesday my dears!

So I have had various requests from you, loveliest readers, about what it is that I do in fashion. Lauren Conrad photo shoot aside, I am not a top supermodel. . .

But thanks for asking!

Anyway, I have futilely attempted to keep my identity someone anonymous in an act that is antithetical to my nature – I tend to be an open book. That being said I would like to maintain some semblance of mystery (if not for the sole fact that every woman should have a few secrets. . . ) ie the “bad news” black bars over DP and Minn Twin’s faces (much to your disappointment, I know)

and shrouding my friend’s names with cute monikers (BFF, SGO, MonMac, E-Vick, Brittania) but you are all curious about my work and I didn’t do anything interesting today so I will tell you. . . kinda.

We all know I work in fashion and I’m going to best explain to you my work, by resurrecting a photo diary I compiled last year for this very purpose. . . to explain what it is that I do to my friends. But rather than interrupt my actual work with posing and setting up a tripod and/or finding willing co-workers to snap me working I found a suitable, fruitable stand-in. A fancy character I have named “Pear.” She is in fact just that, a pear, an adorable tiny petite thing I found in Milan and was so charmed with, I thought she would be, dare I say, an even better stand in than yours truly.

This time last year I worked for an Italian luxury company and as a result would travel to Milan 5 times a year. This is the story of one of those times. . .this is “A Pear Travels: Milan.”

While casting showroom models,  pear discovers she has a crush on Chad White. Good choice, Pear. . . Good choice indeed!

It’s a good thing I’m Pear is good at math . . . Pear discovers mark up discrepancies while examining the final price list!

Merchandising the collection isn’t as easy as it looks. . . styling models in the showroom is definitely much harder without thumbs. . .or fingers. . .or arms . . or anything for that matter.

Pear approves runway exits for the lookbook. . . and mumbles something about how some of the models look fat

While approving the final images from the runway show . . .pear can’t help but wish she wasn’t so . . . pear shaped.

But nothing lifts her spirits faster than trying on $80,000 diamond rings!!!

Or photo copying her bottom . . .

For an unsuspecting co-worker to find!

Pear overlooks some floor plans and decides that a shop-in-shop in Neiman’s Boca Raton just won’t fit the caselines. . .

Frustrated she smokes away her tensions. (Note: I do not smoke)

Before arriving at the photo shoot for the book. “The lighting is ALL WRONG!!” She says. . .

And she alerts the models to adjust their make up accordingly. . . and mumbles something about how they look fat. . . again

These trip are long and tedious and Pear can’t help but feel a little homesick

The bathrooms aren’t even the same!! “This is not a sink . . .I don’t think.” She muses.

The only thing that consoles her after a long day is a heavenly bed, the chocolate on the pillow, and BBC News.

Pear decides to ditch the office and speed around town on her little Vespa!

“Ciao Duomo!!”

Gelato?!! Che delizioso!!! Pear also decides it’s better to be pear shaped than top heavy. . .

And Pear must stop by one of my her favorite stores in the world!!! CORSO COMO!! Oh, what’s that a French children’s book?? I smell a Pear Travels: Paris edition . . . .

And what’s a trip to Italy without indulging in some good ol’ carbs. . .

That is. . until the seat belt doesn’t fit all the way around you on your return flight. . . .

But not to worry!

Because you can count on the fact that there is always gonna be someone who is super happy to see you when you get home.

And that in a weird nutshell is what I do . . . kinda. . . sorta. . .

Look for a very special DP themed entry tomorrow!

(500) Days of Summer, (30) Years of Monica, and (1) Julia Child.

Hello my lovelies!

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend!! I know I did, I over celebrated and now I am paying for it by eating positively Ghandi-esque and clocking in major gym time. But let me take you back to a hap, hap, happier time of movie snacks, cupcakes, a party recipe that you will j’adore, and a mini giveaway at the end of the post!!

I spent Saturday night out with Brittania and E-Vick to see the Sundance darling, (500) Days of Summer. Ry-Guy had given it his emphatic approval, so I went in with the great anticipation of falling in love with the movie. . . And I did.
Something you may not know about me dear readers is that I used to write screenplays,  so I tend err on the side of ‘way harsh Tye’ when critiquing film, but that’s not to say I can’t appreciate a Sandra Bullock chick flick or the crazy awesome ‘Blade’ trilogy. I thought (500) was quirky,  smart, and depicted a anti but not really love story and heartbreak  without saccharine or being overly maudlin and it also left me with the distinct feeling that I want to fall in love. Hmph. Though I attribute that sentiment to the illegally smuggled snacks that I so carefully concealed. . .

Since seeing Food Inc, E-Vick and I are only eating things we know came straight off a farm. Pepperidge included.

On Sunday, I woke up bright and early because it was the 30th birthday of dear friend MonMac.  The plans were originally for a fete in Central Park on the Sheep’s Meadow but the plans were foiled by Mother Nature herself.  There was a change of venue but that did not change the fact that I had commited to bringing a party treat.

MonMac will not hide the fact that puff pastry is one of her favorite foods on Earth. She rhetroically asks, “Who doesn’t love puff pastry?” all the time and I typically answer, “probably communists.” She’s right, as a food it is delicious and crispy and layered and delicate and as someone who likes to entertain I like the fact that Pepperidge Farm harvests their own puff pastry sheets right in your grocer’s freezer aisle.

So I decided to make, what has turned into a resounding hit, a puff pastry encased, sweet/savory treat that I have named: “Fig OOtons.” (Recipe provided after the jump)

Since Central Park was out of the question, the party was moved to her friend’s full service, doorman apartment building’s common room. The building was a typically large, New York residence so finding the actual location of the festivities required the tracking skills of Sacajawea. Luckily, they anticipated this. . .

And once we got inside, we were still unsure if we had found the right place.

Apparently the common room also doubles as the nearest Gymboree. . . But in actuality, MonMac’s nieces and nephew wanted to wish their favorite aunt a very happy 30th so they came along for the festivities . . with hula hoops and everything!!

The party food was TDF. MonMac’s BFF catered the affair with some assistance from Crumb’s cupcakes. Things I saw with my stomach include. . .

Pulled Pork Sliders w/ cole slaw and pickles!

”Catfish po’boys!!” (Not pictured: Diet Raspberry Fanta) Name that quote and get a prize!!

and this plate o’ disaster/awesomeness.

CRUMBS CUPCAKES!!!! (Reese’s PB and Chocolate, Pistachio, Cookies and Creme, Mint Chocolate, and Coconut!!!)

Oh and if that wasn’t bad enough . . .

The disaster repeated itself on another tray. (S’mores, mini M&ms, Ding Dong!!)

Not pictured: Apple crumble, Red Velvet, Classic Milk Chocolate, Vanilla.

But most deliciously of all there was this. . .

Just kidding. This is Olivia, she is 2 and fancy and I love her. The End.

You may ask how I know MonMac, she is a former colleague so I couldn’t help but laugh at this typical display

As we all know, fashion never sleeps.

LOVE YOU MONMAC!!!!

High off of refined sugar and a noticeably empty womb, I went home because I knew on Monday I had super exciting plans to see a super special sneak peak of “Julie and Julia”!!!!

As someone who blogs and cooks, I felt the movie was thoroughly charming. I wanted to make something out of “Mastering the Art of French Cooking” as a movie treat but I think that an actual souffle would be much harder to smuggle into a Times Square movie theater than a canister of Pirouettes.

That also being said I mentioned my positively Ghandi-esque new diet where I straddle around 1,000 calories a day paired with a strict gym routine . . .I’m starting to feel a bit woozy so I’ll sign off here but not before I leave you with my a la Julila Child, very own creation, Fig OOtons recipe (after the jump!)

Mini Give-Away: First person to get correctly, where “catfish po’ boy and a diet raspberry Fanta” comes from will get a copy of ‘Julie and Julia!!!’  (ends Wed 11:59pm PST)

The Gift that Keeps on Giving. . . (not herpes) Pt 1

Happy Friday All!

To greet the weekend I decided on a fun, fanciful, lighthearted blog post to celebrate the incumbent weekend. . .

Ever since I started this blog I have written about how kind you have all been in welcoming into this crazy little inter-web of ours. All you fellow bloggers and readers alike have become my inner circle, my conscience, and dare I say, friends. Only, I haven’t like met any of you.

Even though we may pass each other on the street without ever knowing it, a few of you have been kind enough to grace me with blog awards (awwwwwww!!!)

Danielle over at Delightfully Sweet awarded me with the Me Me award.

Que? You give it to 7 of your fave bloggers and it requires that you divulge 7 things about yourself, and then pass it on to another 7.

And Amy (of the previously public, now private What Do I Eat Now?) tagged me with a 7 personality traits thingamajig and I am to dutifully complete that and pass it along as well.

Phew . . . that’s a lot of self disclosure so I’ll be breaking it up into a few parts but with about further ado . . .let’s let the sharing begin!

Ok, on the first day of Christmas . . .wrong list.

7 things about me.
(if you look under the “About” section of this blog, I list an ENTIRE 25. It took me 2 weeks to come up with that list so obviously I will pick a few and add a few new ones as well)

1) I don’t plan on moving back to California. I was raised in Orange County, CA (yes, the OC) but have always felt like I was born trans-coastal (on one coast, but really meant to live on another) and I feel really guilty about it all the time. I know my parents miss me more than a limb, but my life is in NY now.

2) I am allergic to alcohol. That’s right folks, all those parties I go to all those dinners, bars, cocktail hours and I maintain totally dry.  I get horribly sick with any ingestion so I have to avoid it. That being said, it’s probably a good thing, I’m generally “drunk off life” 99% of the time. The other 1% I’m probably sleeping. That being said I’ll never look like this or let you look like this, and I’ll always be your designated driver and hold your hair back if you need to vomit.

3) I didn’t realize that the “Sound of Music” had Nazis in it until I was in college. Seriously.

4) I have no problem buying ridiculously expensive, editorial, and borderline stupid shoes (that I’ll only wear once) but I ALWAYS buy the CHEAPEST, ON SALE running shoes (that I will wear EVERY day)

5) I’ve only been in love once.

6) If I was forced to marry someone, right now, on the spot, no questions asked. I would pick John Krasinski. (Oh please someone force me to marry someone right now, on the spot, no questions asked!!))

7) Although I work in fashion and have more clothes than are in the Devil Wears Prada, when it gets too hot or too cold, I wear the same 3 things over and over again. So . . . basically I dress well 4 months out of the year :p

That being said . . . is there anything you want to know about me for Pt 2??

I Bless the Rains Down in Africa

My Dearest Lovelies,

I know you all anticipate Thursdays with great fervor to read yet the next installment of Dating Oh’s but there will be a little bit of a program change because life does not cater around my blog but rather I cater the blog around my life. So until further notice, Dating Ohs will be on sabbatical. But, I’ll promise you’ll find out what happens. No biggie.

Fear not, I would never leave you in the lurch -I have good things aplenty to share! So let the sharing begin!

I am under the grateful understanding that I liv(e) a very charmed New  York life, there is a definite enchanted quality to the life I lead; a bit Holly Golightly, a touch Carrie Bradshaw and just a dash Martha Stewart.  Not to say that the ratios are by any means fixed, there are days when I feel mostly Martha where I’ll make a Thanksgiving turkey on a whim,  or Carrie  days when I can’t even be bothered to make toast because I am too busy lost in my own shoe closet.

That’s not even a fourth of it! If there was ever a fire in my apt. I’m sure I would burn myself for the love of footwear.

Well I recently had the distinct pleasure of meeting my new neighbor. And in one of those fabulous twists of New York fate, he happens to be  fabulous model/artist, Conor Mccreedy! He is from South  Africa and brilliantly talented and invited me over for afternoon tea in his live/work studio.

Yup, definitely an artist.

He hails from South Africa and his family also happens to have a home in Botswana as well and the influences of these beautiful countries premeate through his work.

I mentioned he was a model so I know all you ladies out there are wanting to see some of those works as well.

And shoes. Because you all know, girlfriend loves her shoes.

The art on the walls was certainly beautiful, but what I really loved was he fact that his studio was exactly how one would hope a young, fabulous artist’s studio would be. A fantasy of paint, easels, canvasses and brushes intertwined with the banality of real life. . .coffee mugs, tv remotes, and snacks.

His space with perfectly outfitted in a really creative way without seeming even the slightest of contrived at all.
Like cleverly using a vintage biscuit crate as a side table.

I feel like a crate of Nilla Wafers would look far less appropriate.

And this vintage steamer trunk he found on the street in SoHo transforms into the perfect bedside table.

The trunk was actually addressed with a destination from decades ago and he romantically tracked it as belonging to some Venezuela billionaire. Take THAT Antiques Roadshow!

It was a gorgeous day outside and Conor told me he had one of the most coveted NY relics. . .a key to Gramercy Park.

It is the only private park in Manhattan and having a key is a sign of local prestige. One can assume a few things regarding the owner of one of these keys:

1) They live in one of qualifying 39 buildings facing the park directly.
2) They have to pay $350 dollars to rent the key for the year along with a $1000 replacement fee.

That being said, you cannot bring a pet inside, feed birds, feed yourself, play with frisbees or balls. So all in all it’s a park where you can’t do any park things.

It is a jewel box of a park though, it’s clear those exorbitant fees get put to good use by the association because the park is beautifully manicured and well maintained. Conor and I decided to take the NY Times, some cigars and enjoy what was left of the day.

My darling artist neighbor, sunshine, and the Times – this is what  New York is all about.

The sunshine was starting to depart and I had dinner plans with my favorite downtown boy and member of the Gluttony Compound, Dave Bara.

We headed to one of my favorite spots of the last 2 years, a Belgian themed gastro-pub called Resto.  The chef who initially guided the restaurant to great heights has since left but the food is still solid and Dave Bara and I frequent it quite often. To see such delights as. . .

Free crusty bread with butter and sea salt.

I don’t know why I had to designate that the bread was free. . .this recession is making me crazy.
I assert that Resto has one of the best burgers in the city and Dave loves a good burger. . .

I was feeling a little anemic so I ordered the skirt steak that was perfectly cooked with a gorgeous medley of snap peas and pickled radishes. . .

We also shared what has to be one of my most favorite simple market sides available in the city

A summer pea stoempt!!!! I think it’s basically crushed potatoes, peas, butter, and the hopes and dreams of a young couple.

It’s to die for insane.

I rarely eat this heavily, but Dave Bara pointed out that my appetite responds in a strictly Pavlovian way upon seeing him. I associate him with the Glutton Compound which is the proverbial bell that I hear to know that I am hungry and will be partaking of an exquisite meal. Hmm . . .is there anyway I can reprogram myself to see him and get on the Stairmaster. . . because I assure you that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow.

You Can’t Spell E.D. without Ed

So I admitted earlier this month that  I am  die hard Harry Potter fan. I also admitted previously through this very blog that I am a Jon and Kate plus 8 addict. I now shamefully admit, with the rampant desire to paste black bars over my eyes like I do with  the anonymous men of my blog, that I have been shamefully sucked into this season of “The Bachelorette.”

To my credit I have only been watching since the hometown dates which tragically transpired about 4 weeks ago, so I am new to all this rose ceremony nonsense/amazingness. But tonight, the night of the epic finale, in the vain of my Jon and Kate divorce cake party,  (that to this day remains the most viewed post on Ohlivin) I planned another mini girls night, a Bachelorette party of sorts.

We have all become really familiar with the ven diagram that accurately depicts the founding principles of this blog.

So tonight’s viewing party was the absolute perfect amalgamation of everything Ohlivin stands for. This better be good.

Tonight was one week in the making, Brittania and E-Vick discussed the desire for a viewing party and I volunteered to host. We had these hilarious visions of eating dinner while wearing cheap wedding dresses, giving a rose to the person who makes the best dish of the night, and only serving “Bachelorette” themed food.

Airplane food for my favorite fallen pilot, Jake.

Philly Cheesesteaks for Brittania’s favorite, 2nd runner up and Philly boy, Reid.

And we would all use this, in honor of TV’s biggest D-Bag since Spencer Pratt, Wes.

I keed, I keed.

But I do hate Wes.

So in tonight’s riveting season finale Jillian was left with the decision to pick between Ed and Kiptyn. Which in my mind, was a no brainer. Midwestern Ed is clearly the love child of Zeus, George Clooney, Ben Affleck, and MY DIARY.

That being said, Kiptyn is also pretty dreamy and seems to be a really decent guy although he’s from Southern California and as a So Cal transplant, I can say that isn’t my favorite quality of his. But I won’t hold geography against him. Although Kiptyn loses the girl, the talk on this crazy web of ours is that he is in fact the next “Bachelor” so really he wins.

Ed now reigns as the current love of my life but upon closer examination, he also happens to resemble a former love of my life, the ex mentioned famously here. For those of you who don’t believe me, the proof is in the photo puddin’.

They’re even wearing the same thing!

Anyway, we planned on starting the culinary portion of the evening around 7.30 with a wine and cheese first course. I don’t have photo proof of this,  mostly because Brittania, E-Vick and I demolished it before the camera battery finished charging but it was a gorgeous wheel of Brie that I topped with apricot preserves and baked in the oven for about 20 minutes at 400 degrees.

I happened to have a bumper crop of basil left over from Saturday night’s summer pasta dish so I ingeniously decided on making pesto for tonight’s activities because I am an incarnation of the modern high school lunch lady – recycling ingredients is my forte. I tried  to convince Brittania it was appropriately ‘Bachelorette’ themed by telling her there was so much garlic in it, there was no kissing anyone tonight ergo we remain single, city, Bachelorettes. Tada!

I also slow poached some chicken and shredded it into the whole shooting match. (Note: it was a classic pesto preparation of basil leaves, olive oil, garlic, pine nuts, and parmeggiano. Just throw it all into the food processor!)

I made some more of those famous PB and choc chip cookies because as far as I’m concerned they are appropriate for ANY occasion as long as no one present suffers from a violent nut allergy. E-Vick also contributed a clever summer dessert, ice cream sandwiches!

Chips Ahoy!  +  Ben and Jerry’s Fair Trade Vanilla

EQUALS . . . .

(Note: You can see the hose DP bought me in the background!)

Well in the end Jillian proved herself to be pretty smart and selected Ed, though the return of Reid was a welcome not so surprise because he is Brittania’s love of life.  Reid happens to be a realtor in Philadelphia, which is only a stone’s throw from this beautiful metropolis of ours so we are planning a faux condo search/road trip to the city of brotherly love to get our BFF Brittania some lovin’. If it actually happens, I am predicting it will be the best Ohlivin blog post of ALL TIME.

I guess historically  the odds are in my favor, the likelihood of  Ed and Jillian actually staying together and getting married is slim to none.  But if we examine my history, the likelihood of me and a guy who looks like Ben Affleck staying together? Also not too good. I guess I will just have to proceed forward with what my friends joke as being a great idea, recommending me as the next “Bachelorette”. I’m sure I would have more than a few Dating Woahs to report back on. . . .I would also probably have to get the HPV vaccine.

Did you guys watch last night? What did you think???!!

DP, Rooftops, and Jersey, Oh My!

Hi Readers!

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend. Sorry  I have been noticeably absent from the blogosphere but I am re-initiating myself with a MAXI SIZED weekend recap! Get comfortable . . .this one’s gonna be a while.

We’ll start with Friday because as we all know in this great city of New York ,the weekend officially starts at 1pm on Friday afternoon. DP had asked me the night before if I would join him on a small roadtrip to Westchester to pick up his car (the incident can be read about here in great detail) and so I had blocked off a portion of my Friday late afternoon/early evening to assisting DP in car retrieval. He texted me at 4:30 saying he was finishing up at work and would come by to get me in the loaner car before heading out. But, I had not heard from him at 6 and still nothing at 7 and DP is nothing if not dependable so I was thinking the worst until he had someone at 730  send me a text mid surgery apologizing that he would be too late and would it be possible to postpone until tomorrow (Saturday); I begrudgingly obliged.

DP thinks I operate under the assumption that all men are liars until proven otherwise so he had a nurse take this picture of him and send it to me as proof.

Ok, Ok I get it. As a consolation, DP offered to buy me dinner and instructed me to order dinner from anywhere I wanted and have it delivered.  I felt like my mercury levels were dangerously  low, so I opted for my favorite food on Earth, sushi!!!

As it so happens, sushi is also Manny’s favorite food on Earth as well.

**MANNY + DP = 2TOGETHER 4EVER**

Seeing as how it was Friday night, the mood is right, and we are bright young things living in NYC, DP, his cousins and I hit the town. It was a gorgeous night out so we thought to head over towards the water to a refurbished tugboat called The Frying Pan that ingeniously is a bar and quite the happening spot at night.

You can order a bucket of Coronas, sit on the top deck, smell the sea air, feel the breeze and look out into the NJ and NY skylines concurrently; A great I,NY recommendation!

We headed home around 2ish because DP had to go into the office early Saturday AM to see a few patients and I was slated to meet him there before heading up to get his car. I had never been to DP’s office before and seeing him in action basically made me think he was a soap opera doctor or a career Ken doll.

He had to write on a few charts and dictate patient notes into a recorder but then we were off to get the car!!

But not before DP had to eat something. As we all know, the man robot needs to eat as often as a Sim’s avatar so since we were in Westchester county already, DP wanted to stop at his favorite Greek cafe for a typically Mediterranean gyro and typically French, fries.

After our long journey, DP was finally reunited with his true love.

And we were back in the car headed home. DP had planned to take me out on his friend’s boat for a party but since the journey had taken longer than anticipated, DP drove us back home to surprise me with a GREAT consolation. The best gift ever.

A HOSE!!!

Let me explain. As you may know I am cultivating a roof top garden right here in New York City, but seeing as how there are more than a few irrigation obstacles I am relegated to trekking NUMEROUS times a day up various flights of stairs with an empty 2-liter Canada Dry ginger ale bottle to water my plants. DP was inspired by Minn Twin’s enviable roof top set up and went to Home Depot to surprise me with my fabulous new watering mechanism that he hooked up to our kitchen sink and threaded out the window up onto the roof. Yippee!!

DP still felt bad for making me miss the boat trip so he tried to console me with promises of a beach trip or a pool outing but seeing as how the afternoon was quickly waning, I suggested we just hop over to the nearby park to fulfill our sun worshipping quota.

If you look closely you can see he has a scar above his left hip. This is because he fell out of a tree when he was 18, probably trying to save a kitten. So to answer your question of ‘When is DP not a DP?’ Never. The answer is NEVER.

He packed all our provisions: blanket, towel, water, sunscreen and tunes and he got to lie on the extra long beach towel while he gave me a blanket. Unfortunately said blanket was fleece and was literally no cooler than lying on a bed of magma.

So after getting kissed by rays of melanoma we packed up and DP said he wanted to go back to Home Depot to pick up a few more things. I think there is a full moon or Bob Villa is entering Mercury’s second house in retrograde  because DP has been obsessed with projects lately. If anyone needs new to have a new deck built or cabinetry installed, give me a call I know a guy.

So we headed over to Home Depot, but again not before man robot needed to refuel.

And once inside those hallowed orange walls, DP had to examine every last thing in every single aisle . . including another shopper who apparently was misusing his headphones.

**DP TO SAVE THE DAY!!!**

If there was a boyscout patch for iPods, DP definitely earned his today.

DP also suggested we go to J Crew to take advantage of the summer sale that he knew about as a result of Ohlivin, but unfortunately he did not let me chronicle any of this shopping adventure because he did not want to step on Minn Twin’s fashiony toes.

Manned with my new watering system I was able to joyously hit the roof and harvest some of the fruits/veggies of my labors. I made a GORGEOUS summer pasta dish for DP, Brittania and myself before we were to head out to yet another roof party!
(Tangerine, Lemon Boy, Roma Juliet, and Better Boy Tomatoes and baby zucchini! Pasta recipe after the jump)

Now you all know that DP, Brittania, and I are no strangers to amazing rooftop soirees but this one was exceptionally excellent because the hostess had the amazing good sense to throw ‘mallows on the grill for some s’more lovin’.

**This now concludes the DP portion of this post**

I awoke bright and early on Sunday morning with the anticipation of heading out to my favorite Jersey town to see one of my all time favorite people, Ry-Guy. Hoboken, NJ is just a hop on the PATH train and right over on the other side of the Hudson River- and I ADORE it. It is one square mile, and the main street is so adorably quaint, I am constantly afraid that if I were ever to lean on one of the buildings, it would fall straight back like a “Truman Show” prop house.

Note: Carlo’s Bake Shop on the right is the location of the TLC show ‘Cake Boss.’

I simply adore Hoboken, mostly because I have a lot of friends who live here and for the ego inflating reason that the boys are all cute, white bread financial types who act like they have never seen an Asian girl in their life. I am a HIT every time I go out here. My friends all joke that I am the parade queen of Hoboken. Find me a Buick La Sabre convertible and I will sit on the back waving my pageant wave while being driven slowly down Washington Street.

I was to meet Ry-Guy at his adorably outfitted apartment that is decorated ingeniously like someone’s grandmother’s seaside mansion. He even has his old childhood relics scattered about decoratively. My favorite being this vintage tractor and cows being pulled by a lassoed rope belt.

And a designer bag scape, replete with oars and a pashmina!

We linked arm in arm and headed out to participate in this, and every other New Yorker’s favorite Sunday activity, brunch. Albeit in New Jersey. We knew we wanted to hit our favorite jewel box brunch location, the adorable Elysian Cafe.

Thanks to Amy, I have been dreaming about french toast for weeks and I entered the tin ceilinged cafe with a strategy to avoid the perennial brunch drama of “breakfast food vs lunch food: what to order?’. I was going to order french toast without a second glance at the menu.

Ry-Guy settled on a Gruyere burger and gallons of water as it was oppressively hot with nary a breeze. Here he is doing his best impression of his mom during a post menopausal hot flash.

We returned to his couch to catch up on the week’s TV and we settled on something I had never seen before: A&E’s ‘Obsessed,’ a show in the vain of previous A&E hit/train wreck “Intervention”, ‘Obsessed’ chronicles the lives of people living with true, maniacal OCD and their fight to become cured of licking light switches, counting floor tiles, and locking the door 37 times before bed.

Today’s episode focused on one girl who couldn’t stop picking at her face with tweezers and pulling the flesh off and another guy who had to kiss  his dog 12 times, roll deodorant 13 times under each arm, close the refrigerator 17 times (other OCD-ish things etc)  or he would suffer major anxiety attacks.

While watching the girl’s story we couldn’t help but n out a few things: 1) With her obsession at pulling and extracting things from flesh, why not become an aesthetician and GET PAID to do it? Since she was 26 and unemployed. I’ve shelled out hundreds to the ladies at Bliss for the exact same thing.. . . . 2) She was engaged. . . . . . . .HOW?

Here is a shot of a self induced scab on her face, and Ry-Guy’s subsequent reaction.

We also noticed that the other guy featured in the episode was MARRIED. Which begs me to ask, ummmmmmmm why do I  have to endure multiple Dating Woahs, and these people just get to be married????!!!
He was also pretty cute, and I happen to be pretty single so this led us to make a list to decide if he would in fact be date-able.

Operation: Fail.

So in keeping with the theme of obsession, Ry-Guy and his BF had the pleasure of eating those life affirming PB and choc chip cookies when I made them for a house warming a couple weeks back. He was telling me that BF was in a cranky mood and that nothing would cheer him up faster than if I were to bake some of those little cuties for my cuties. Of course I obliged so we grabbed our purses and headed to the grocery store for some provisions.

And there, I had seen something I have never spied before in a grocery store. A clearance section. Not just any clearance section but a blow out of things I didn’t even know they sold at the grocery store. Exhibit A:

*****”Attention A&P shoppers, we are having a special clearance in aisle WTF”*****

Too bad I bought a Ratatouille villain action figure and Vagisil full price last week. I am now hoping A&P honors price adjustments?

We are in a recession.  . .

Anyway, we eventually made it back to Ry-Guy’s home and I rolled out 2 dozen of those perfect little cookies and BF turned his frown upside down. But I wasn’t convinced BF was fully happy so we took him out for a south of the border dinner and I convinced him to smile by using very sophisticated, CIA approved tactics.

AKA wearing the tortilla holder as a jaunty hat.

This weekend flew by as a blur! And I see the above picture and it feels like it was FOREVER AGO. This post took me HOURS upon HOURS to write before it shut down and I had to start over So if it feels a little rushed. Sorry!

So, please comment nice! (not that anyone ever comments mean)

Note: As I mentioned before DP will be participating in a Q & A style new series so, what would you like to ask DP??

My summer pasta recipe after the jump!!

Here I Go Again, Pt 3: The Sabbatical

So in the last installment of Dating Oh’s Minn Twin and I uh . . . experienced mind blowing er. . . conversation. However, you also know that we didn’t experience any subsequent conversation (real conversation as in communication) for what Minn Twin quantifies as >6 months. Here is what happened after. . .but not before he talks about last night’s ‘So You Think You Can Dance’

OO = Me

MNT = Minn Twin

MNT: Battlefield….battlefield, my battlefiiieeeeld. Good song!!

OO: oh you and that show. It kills me

MNT: What a good dance by Brandon and Janine

me: I dont watch. I cant stand Mary Murphy

MNT: you should watch I just fast-forward during her commentary. It’s entertaining; that’s what inspires me to dance out in the city.

OO: I saw maybe two minutes of it tonight, before I turned it TO SPORTS

MNT: ouch. ok, so let’s get this party rolling

OO: ok. this could get ugly

MNT: so what’s the topic for today?

OO: the sabbatical

MNT: the gap year?

OO: yes

MNT: ugh, ok

OO: dont ugh. Its not my fault. . .and you cant lie

MNT: can we just skip this part and go straight to present day?

OO: to make yourself sound better? no

MNT: so i’m going to be the villain after this?

OO: no, just be honest. People loved the Minn Twin project

MNT: and now am riding the rollercoaster. Highs and loooows.

OO: maybe i should make a graph

MNT: yeah, def do a progression graph: time vs d-baggness

MNT: ok,alright let’s get it started

OO: today we are discussing sabbatical numero uno

MNT: el primero

OO: yeah you would think there wouldnt be a need for el segundo. But leave it to you . . .

Yes, readers we go through ALL this. AGAIN.

OO: where we left off in the series, I left your apt in a minor panic. And in these situations it should be known, that regardless of intention there should always be SOME sort of communication (even though i was uncharacteristically easy and acted a tart)

MNT: well, there are exceptions; but I’m not saying you were one of them

OO: what are they? Enlighten us. The thing is girls dont want to feel cheap so even if you never want to see me again a “had a great time, talk to you soon” will suffice

MNT: true, and a lot of guys don’t want to feel committed

OO: regardless of whether or not its true. Commited?  I didnt pick out a wedding song, its just a matter of courtesy

MNT: yes, I understand that. But the thing is I never usually communicate well.

OO: well we know that now

MNT: ha, true

OO: i think the Minn Twin I  had created in my brain, 2 yrs ago wouldnt have done that and i think thats where the surprise was

MNT: the thing is that I woke up that morning and thought that I had a wonderful time [some of the best sex of my life], but I was in a daze and didn’t really know what to do. And here is the little addition that you never really knew about but just prior to meeting you I had broken up with my gf of 2 years [this was about 2 weeks prior to meeting you]

OO: I KNEW it

MNT: whenever someone is committed for that long, things tend to linger for a while; even though that individual is looking for a way out, something to distract the mind with. And I don’t want this to sound like I used you as an object, because I didn’t had I done that, there would have been no conversation or any communication thereafter. See when I had that conversation with you, I felt connected and my mind was not thinking of the past, but the present which I thoroughly enjoyed . . .

OO: the first night we met.

MNT: then the second meeting with you went a bit further [the party] but after time, that feeling from the past creeps up and sometimes its very difficult to suppress.  Hence, after seeing you that night, after about a week, I connected up with my previous girlfriend and chatted,  had a conversation and then decided to try it again. But as i’m sure you know, previous partnerships are always difficult to start anew. So the relationship ended up even worse, which forced me to end it  again, never to talk again with her.

Sorry, i’m blabbing

OO: i think its funny because in a manner of speaking our situations are similar but different. We met in july and in Sept of the previous year i had broken up with a boyfriend [the lawyer] and you were in fact he first guy I slept with since the breakup. Ive always found this very interesting the dichotomy of how men and women deal with breakups.  Like it took me a while to get over it but once i was done i was done. I met you, ready to move on but with you, it was a case of replace rather than remedy and then you went back.  You’ll never fill the hole with someone else, you have to heal and then move on. . .

MNT: yes, I could see that. But then after her I dated a few girls, but nothing special more flings than true relationships

OO: So today I did the math and figured out it was 50 weeks -almost a year before we spoke again and it was a total accident. My friend Dan does PR for Hasbro and was doing the Fathers Day quarterback challenge with the Mannings (Peyton, Eli, and Archie) for Nerf and there was a realy low turn out.

MNT: ah yes. I remember that

OO: and he desperately had me show up and text every guy in my phone to come. He needed anyone

MNT: yep. What did you do when you reached my name? Did you hesitate?

OO: Obviously, but i thought there was a good chance you would know people who would want to come. Since you actually know guys and at this point in my life I only knew gay guys and the 3 architechts.

MNT: ahhh. unfort I wasn’t able to go

OO: so what did you think when you got the text

MNT: I was a bit stunned

OO: OH shit we forgot!

MNT: eh?

OO: that weird pub crawl

MNT: oh yeah!

OO: random random weirdest night of my life

MNT: That was in February right?

OO: to this day the WEIRDEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE.

Ok, so let me explain. This was Martin Luther King Weekend and a friend of mine invited me on a pub crawl that was to take place in lower Manhattan. I attended halfway through said ‘crawl’ to see the Minn Twin in the bar. . .

MNT: Yeah,  happened that night?

OO: In my defense Iwas about to pass out from exhaustion. I remember I had just flown in that afternoon from Milan and I always try to make a point to stay up as late as possible my first night back  and my friend and I decided to go but we missed the first half of it. I started w/Sweet and Vicious and i swore i saw you but i dont really remember what you looked like but then i saw bro.  So I knew it was you.

OO: it was awkward fiesta 2008

MNT: And we texted all night I remember.

OO: That was weird

Thats right folks, we were serendipitously reunited and neither one of us could talk to the other. .We are the weirdest people on Earth.

OO: After I saw you at that bar, I left because I felt weird and my friend and I went to this other bar we like and while there,I ran into a guy I met at YOUR PARTY the first night who was hitting on me but i obviously paid no attention to because i was into you at the time

OO: and was like “i remember you from that party” this is nuts anyway. i talked to him for a while then you texted me

i dont even remember what you said

MNT:and then you left the bar and came over?

OO: And I was soo nervous I remember it was this gross DIVE , i think they have a cash box, and I asked them if they took american express. I was out of my mind that night. To my defense i was also jet lagged and beyond exhausted. So I left and I got a call from my ex boyfriend from 5 yrs prior [Ben Affleck doppelganger] in the cab on the way home whom I hadn’t heard from ONCE in those 5 yrs.

MNT: really?

OO: which was crazier than running into you

MNT: was this when he called you during his quarter-life crisis?

OO: yes

MNT: ahh. what a good end to the night

OO: he was working ike 90 hr work weeks when we were dating and told me he quit his job  and was going to new zealand for a year to scuba dive and then backpack across europe. I still dont believe that night even though it happened to me

MNT: like the Twilight zone

OO: like all the boys from my past in one place.
OK back to the Mannings and the text. So I sent out a mass text to all the guys I knew. So you got the text and what did you think?

MNT: well, I thought back and was excited to try it one more time

OO: i remember you were in the hamptons and I brought up the golf tournament which i had literally just thought up of a couple months prior.

I now host an annual golf tournament the second weekend in September and I had just mentioned to the Minn Twin my idea to host one. . .

MNT: haaa, yes the good old golf tourney. At this point i thought of you like a drug, I wanted more

OO: over a year later

MNT: i had a relapse

OO: so i was planning a golf tournamet and we spoke pretty frequently up until the tournament, it was like 3 months of just texting. So,  you were gonna play in my golf tournament you were supposed to bring people and they all backed out, so it was just you. Were you excited ?

MNT: yes, I was ecstatic; firstly I wanted to see you again since it was so long since our last meeting and secondly I wanted to see how good you really were at golf since you were talking yourself up so much which obviously you did quite well.

Understatement, I won the ENTIRE tournament.

OO: we’ll leave it at you were excited, but I remember I was soo nervous!

MNT: yeah, I think we both were

OO: I remember I didnt want you to arrive at my apartment first so I told all the other guys to come at 645 and I told you 7. But the door bell rang at 7 and I knew it was going to be you . . .and it was.

To be continued on the next installment of Dating Oh’s Thursdays!

**Programming note: DP has expressed interest in a Q and A column much like the Minn Twin’s. Look for that soon!!!**