I Was All Bah-Hum-Bugging But Then...

OK so I admit: I was in a pissy mood for Christmas. Like most NYer's, I am from 'somewhere else' and even though I fully and willingly live here, and like many others, don't really prefer to go home, I still don't actually have to like the fact that I can't go home for Christmas. And this year I can't go home. I mean, I was just home for Thanksgiving and I am still recovering from smoke asphyxiation from my Mother's 5 pack-a-day habit. And besides that, flights to Ohio are more expensive than those to Paris, and I am out of work and up to my limit on parental borrowing.

Now you would think that your family would sort of innately understand that visiting is as much about cost as it is about wanting to see them. And seeing that I am some sort of Artist Type who is presently not working, it would also seem that it could be a topic that one would, ya know, avoid. But instead, they all call and say lovely and caring things like: "Oh, you are not coming home???!!!" "I hope you are not going to be alone on Christmas!!!" "What are you going to do for Christmas???!!!"

I am not sure how to respond to this type of questioning because everyone knows that Christmas is THE family holiday. Unlike Thanksgiving, one doesn't usually get invites from other people's families for Christmas, if for no other reason than other people don't want to feel bad that you are not getting gifts from their family. Add to this that most NYer's leave the city for Christmas to go back to the somewhere else they are from. I often wonder what the reply would be if I asked my family "Aren't you coming to NY for Christmas?!!" "I'll be all ALONE!!" But I have learned over the years that since I am the one who moved, I have to be the one to travel, too. And so it is. And because of this I've been Bitchy Bah-Hum-Bugging all week long. Add to this the fact that I have also been bitching about my 3 bad haircuts in a row AND my lack of a career direction since my little goal of being a dancer or then a ballerina got pissed on earlier this year. In summation, I have been a bitch on wheels for like the entire last quarter of the year! And now I am supposed to be all jolly-gleeful about Baby Jesus' birth 2009 years ago? Unh. Huh.

But, just as I was getting ready to settle into a grumpy little holiday, wouldn't ya know it but 3 amazing,'only in NY' things happened -- back to back -- making me actually, oh I don't know, enjoy myself!

#1: My great friend, former boss, mentor, fellow blogger, brilliant, classy, superior friend Karen had the coziest little party ever in her gorgeous apartment (that she lets me believe I decorated but really it was all her amazing taste!) I just love her and her place and her friends - so that was a load of fun! She is one of the most supportive people I have ever met and her advice is incredible! She always knows exactly what to say, do or NOT. I just wish I could obey her more. (Sigh) Plus she has the best little snacks -- simple but scrumptious and boozy cider besides!

#2: Ya know how I made a special point to bitch about my hair this past week? Well, you guys only got the fun, sassy version. All of my other friends got the "I Want To Kill All Hairdressers and I Spent So Much Money Its Un-Godly and I Am Still Ugly!" version. Right after anyone would say "WOW, you cut your hair!" I would go into the full-blown "YES, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. EVEN THOUGH I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO GROW MY BLEEPING HAIR FOR 4 YEARS I WENT FOR A TRIM AND CAME OUT WITH A DEAD BIRD ON MY HEAD" Rant. This effectively makes people shut up and tell me how great I look -- which is not only insulting to my taste, but to theirs as well. Nevertheless, I felt I deserved to hear it after spending way too much for 1, 2, no, THREE Haircuts In A Row. But wouldn't ya know, right as I was going into it for like the 1000th time, a gal at the dance studio, fellow Dancer/Designer/Juicer Anna, decides that instead of pampering my ego she is gonna tell it like it is: "Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yeah, I see what you mean. I loved your hair before -- it was so curly and fun and glammy! You should let me cut it!". And with those magical words I ended up getting the best haircut of my life FOR FREE ON CHRISTMAS DAY!

Of course its shorter than it ever been in my life -- it's as short as a boy. But that is not her fault. And besides, I don't care because it looks FABULOUS! ANNA GETS IT! And now she is my hero. On top of this, we had the best time hanging out on Christmas -- nearly polished an entire Honey Fried, Indian Spiced Chicken off, ate a whole wheel of Brie with Orange/Plum Glaze accompanied by about 11,000 calories worth of Butter Yum Crackers with Clementines, and THEN had Vanilla Baked Pears and Ice Cream with great coffee. Then, Anna made me the most beautiful tin-foil ballerina decoration ever!

Does it get better than this? Well, yes. You see, I ALSO received (#3) the sweetest email in the world from a Miss Karen Waltuck, co-owner of the restaurant I was dying to eat in before it closed damn-it, whose husband's cookbook I fell in love with and purchased for the first Karen as mentioned up in #1. Karen Waltuck and her husband David owned the glorious CHANTERELLE: a 30-year, 4-Star testament to all things delicious in NYC! It had been on my list of "Places To Go When I Have Money" and so I was devastated to learn it had closed before said money was ever had. Pretty much this confirmed for me that NY IS DYING! I AM DYING! KILL ME NOW! GET ME OUT! I HATE CHRISTMAS! And as such, I took it upon myself to write her a little late-night email, nearly begging them to come back as soon as humanly possible -- and to hire me besides. (because one of my little 'besides ballet' ideas is going back to School of some sort -- Culinary School; Interior Design School; Nutrition School; Fashion School; or HAIR School! UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH!)

Anyhoo, I just loved the fact that her husband dropped out of the C.I.A. (Culinary Institute of America - noted as perhaps one of the best schools in the world) because as he recalled, he couldn't understand why celery just HAD to be in nearly every damn thing (that's a paraphrase, of course). So he quit and said "Whatever, I am starting a place of my own"! With his true love, (and now wife) Karen! All at 24 years old. So, you can imagine why I felt such impending doom. I thought "If Chanterelle closed what is next?" "The Empire State Building is going to be torn down?" "The Statue of Liberty is going to be re-gifted?" "Donald Trump is giving up gold?!" So, I felt that to feel better, I must send The Waltucks a little advice to obey, er, I mean, uhm, encouragement! And wouldn't ya know, God Bless Her Heart, she wrote me the most lovely, heart-warming email, encouraging me to pursue my love of food, (oh, what to pursue, what to pursue!), thanking me for my note and assuring me that they will be around, somehow -- and lets stay in touch!

Now she has no idea I have this little blog (I am still working out the kinks, ya know) which I am now using to tell all of you: Go here and sign up for the mailing list so that you will be privy as to what the their next plans are! You don't want to miss that! Then, if you have not bought the cookbook CHANTERELLE, go buy it here now! Even if you don't cook, just go buy it anyway. It's beautiful. Even for decoration. And its a testament of how lovely and rewarding following your little dream can be. Plus, cooking makes you a better-fed, happier, healthier human.

So between the most cozy party from my favorite Karen with the most perfect gift, and the most perfect note from my now second-favorite Karen, and a little Nip/Cut from Anna, I had the most perfect, magical Christmas ever, right here, with friends, in NYC!

Wow. I heart Baby Jesus, after all.