Not the best weekend, as weekends go, on account of our fridge not being very cold, and me eating the chicken therein anyway.
So, without being indelicate, I haven't had the best of weekends.
But I seem to be on the mend now. There was one really miserable day of fatigue and chills and fever and other fun stuff, and it's been getting progressively better since then. I'm now in the unenviable position of constantly craving nasty, fried food, but at the same time being wholly fearful of ingesting anything solid.
Hopefully this will be my last night of soup.
Not that soup is without charm, I just need something new.
I'll be eating prepared food from now on, thankyouverymuch.
Robyn
Showing posts with label stomach distress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stomach distress. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 26, 2002
Sunday, December 2, 2001
A Tasty Place to Live
Blarf
Blarf is how I feel after what I have consumed in the past 30 hours.
Now, I'm not one of those chickies that obsesses over what I eat, but consider this rather unladylike list:
A whole bag of popcorn (mind you, it was light)
A bacon burger
A taquito sandwich (sausage and scrambled egg on bread)
Popcorn chicken and obligatory biscuit
Cheesecake (from East Village pastry mecca, Venierio's)
Nog, sweet nog
Blarf
It doesn't help that New York is such a tasty place in which to live. On our walk this evening around a healthy portion of the Village, Jeffrey and I passed so very many interesting restaurants. Thai, vegetarian Indian, Ukrainian, Belgian fries, diners a-plenty, etc.
One of our favorite places is Bamiyan, an Afghani place up on 26th Street. We were patronizing Bamiyan before helping out your local Afghani neighbors in times of crisis was the cool thing to do. They don't seem to be suffering there, although they have covered all mention of "Afghan" outside their restaurant with American flags.
They have a drink there called doogh, which I find delightful, but others find repulsive. It's yogurt and mint leaves and seltzer water. It sorta tastes like carbonated sour cream. You'd think that would be a bad thing, but it's not. It goes great with a kebab.
I must away to the lavatory, for to swig some Pepto now. Farewell.
Robyn
Blarf is how I feel after what I have consumed in the past 30 hours.
Now, I'm not one of those chickies that obsesses over what I eat, but consider this rather unladylike list:
A whole bag of popcorn (mind you, it was light)
A bacon burger
A taquito sandwich (sausage and scrambled egg on bread)
Popcorn chicken and obligatory biscuit
Cheesecake (from East Village pastry mecca, Venierio's)
Nog, sweet nog
Blarf
It doesn't help that New York is such a tasty place in which to live. On our walk this evening around a healthy portion of the Village, Jeffrey and I passed so very many interesting restaurants. Thai, vegetarian Indian, Ukrainian, Belgian fries, diners a-plenty, etc.
One of our favorite places is Bamiyan, an Afghani place up on 26th Street. We were patronizing Bamiyan before helping out your local Afghani neighbors in times of crisis was the cool thing to do. They don't seem to be suffering there, although they have covered all mention of "Afghan" outside their restaurant with American flags.
They have a drink there called doogh, which I find delightful, but others find repulsive. It's yogurt and mint leaves and seltzer water. It sorta tastes like carbonated sour cream. You'd think that would be a bad thing, but it's not. It goes great with a kebab.
I must away to the lavatory, for to swig some Pepto now. Farewell.
Robyn
Friday, November 16, 2001
If the economy of New York City is flagging, it sure as hay ain't my fault.
Today was a bona fide tourist day. It's good to have such a day once in a while, because it reminds me what a neato place I live in. But it's tough on the wallet.
First, it was off to the Met for my Painting and Sculpture in New York class. Today was 19th Century European Paintings Day, which in art-nerd-speak translates to Super Fun Happy Good Day. After viewing many a Degas and Monet, I was delighted to discover that my professor and I share the same favorite painting -- Jules Bastien-LePage's Joan of Arc. We both agreed that it was one of the most overlooked, underrated, and downright purtiest things in that wonderful building, and then we giggled, because that's what art nerds do.
Jeffrey's mom is in town, and they explored the American wing while my professor and I were giggling over French impressionists. Then we dined on overpriced Indian food that did ridiculous things to my stomach.
I went to the top of the Empire State Building tonight, which is something that I haven't done since junior high. I had tried a couple of times over the summer, but wasn't too keen on waiting in line for an hour.
But tonight, after going through the newly-installed metal detectors, we saw that there was NOBODY there. Deserted. We went right up to the window, right to the elevator, and right up to the observation deck, where we finally found other people, although not much. Prior to September 11, a nice Friday night like this would have found the place thronged with people.
And the southern view...
I read a lot of magazines after The Thing That Was Bad, and I remember one quote by a little boy who said that it looked like New York had lost it's two front teeth. I haven't had many opportunities since then to see the skyline from afar. Sure enough, there's a gaping hole in the southern skyline. In the dark, the space is filled with an ethereal glow from the lights at Ground Zero. It's a sad, sad sight.
But the rest of the city looks fabulous. I was very happy to see that the northern view is dominated by my favorite building, 30 Rockefeller Plaza (or the Big Pretty Building). Big, white pretty building with millions of orange lights as a backdrop, blue bridges, light vestiges of clouds beneath you. It's a lovely place. I'll miss it a lot come spring.
Time to write a paper and play with my new, pretty, overpriced snowglobe.
It's fun to be a tourist sometimes.
Robyn
Today was a bona fide tourist day. It's good to have such a day once in a while, because it reminds me what a neato place I live in. But it's tough on the wallet.
First, it was off to the Met for my Painting and Sculpture in New York class. Today was 19th Century European Paintings Day, which in art-nerd-speak translates to Super Fun Happy Good Day. After viewing many a Degas and Monet, I was delighted to discover that my professor and I share the same favorite painting -- Jules Bastien-LePage's Joan of Arc. We both agreed that it was one of the most overlooked, underrated, and downright purtiest things in that wonderful building, and then we giggled, because that's what art nerds do.
Jeffrey's mom is in town, and they explored the American wing while my professor and I were giggling over French impressionists. Then we dined on overpriced Indian food that did ridiculous things to my stomach.
I went to the top of the Empire State Building tonight, which is something that I haven't done since junior high. I had tried a couple of times over the summer, but wasn't too keen on waiting in line for an hour.
But tonight, after going through the newly-installed metal detectors, we saw that there was NOBODY there. Deserted. We went right up to the window, right to the elevator, and right up to the observation deck, where we finally found other people, although not much. Prior to September 11, a nice Friday night like this would have found the place thronged with people.
And the southern view...
I read a lot of magazines after The Thing That Was Bad, and I remember one quote by a little boy who said that it looked like New York had lost it's two front teeth. I haven't had many opportunities since then to see the skyline from afar. Sure enough, there's a gaping hole in the southern skyline. In the dark, the space is filled with an ethereal glow from the lights at Ground Zero. It's a sad, sad sight.
But the rest of the city looks fabulous. I was very happy to see that the northern view is dominated by my favorite building, 30 Rockefeller Plaza (or the Big Pretty Building). Big, white pretty building with millions of orange lights as a backdrop, blue bridges, light vestiges of clouds beneath you. It's a lovely place. I'll miss it a lot come spring.
Time to write a paper and play with my new, pretty, overpriced snowglobe.
It's fun to be a tourist sometimes.
Robyn
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