Now I Have to Go Iron

The recipe said it makes 12 mini-muffins. I need approximately 144 mini-muffins for Purim. Approximately because I only have 10 people to give them to, but I like having just-in-case extras. So, on my first round, I figured I'd quadruple the recipe. Bang out four batches at once and only have to make them two more times. As it turns out though, the recipe's "mini" and my "mini" are completely off. So completely off that I have been working over the oven for the past two and a half hours just putting trays of batter in and taking batches of muffins out. Thankfully, I don't have to make anymore. Of course, I also realized while baking that there were many simpler options I could have done for my shalach manot. I could have made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on white bread without the crusts and given them out in paper bags with an apple and a drink box. Another alternative would have been Jell-o made in a mold and presented on a plate. Simple. All simple options--none of which I did.
The moral of my story is that sometimes you intend to spend a short while doing a task and in the end, find yourself spending all afternoon eating batter and cream cheese.

Yes, March 15th--That's Right...

"Why yes, my birthday is this time of year! What is it I'd like? Thanks for asking, but I have everything I'd ever need or want...except maybe an ice cream maker and a couple of books."
I can't tell you how many times a day I find myself answering people about what I'd like for my birthday either because they know the best way to show love is through material objects or because they're going to Israel on my birthday and feel guilty about not being here. Either way, I've recently updated my wishlist on Amazon that you can access by clicking the "My Chanukah Wishlist" link on the right because I'm too lazy to change that to say "My 22nd Birthday is Coming Up." No pressure.
I'm just kidding, of course, but I was thinking recently about how maybe in the end I do want to make a party because I'm not so sure I'm in the mood to go see The Brothers at the Beacon (I'd so much rather go in the summer when we can sit out on the lawn) and then I found out that Nukes is going to be leaving for Israel on my birthday. I'd be proportionately upset, but I think my brother will be back from Israel for Pesach by they point, so who can stay upset for long? I'm not sure what that has to do with making a party, but we'll see. I'm going to watch another episode of Brothers & Sisters because I have recently become addicted to it. Have a great day.

It's Super-Married-Woman with Invisiblity (Super-Powered-Hat sold separately)

Mir and I put our coats down in the coat bedroom and headed into the main room where our friend Tzippy's engagement party was. We did our mazal tovs and gave her the gift we brought (like back in the old days when Mir and I would have discussions about buying movies together and then realize that it's too difficult a thing to share when you don't live together).
"Have fun being fresh meat," Miryam said.
"I'm not fresh meat--what are you talking about?"
"Look around. You're one of the few girls. You're also, I think, the only single-looking girl."
She was right. Just about every girl had a territorial man or a headcovering. At that point, Miryam offered me either her wedding band or engagement ring. Shortly after I turned her offer down, someone passed by and introduced himself to me.
"Hi, I'm Dina," I said. "And this is Miryam."
Then he started talking to me as if Miryam weren't even standing there. It's amazing how just a headcovering can make someone invisible. Perhaps if I had borrowed Mir's engagement ring, I would have had special invisible powers too. And don't I wish I had. Simply amazing.

Squiggle, Wiggle, Giggle, Wriggle

I scratched my shoulder this morning while getting dressed and a little while later it started to bleed. It's odd, I thought my nails were short because I just had them done yesterday, but you never know with these things. I scratched my shoulder before in the same spot a few months ago. Apparently, it's a very bruisable spot.
On Monday, I slipped on some ice while trying to get into my car, grabbed the open car door for support, and slid straight into it with my knee out first. It hurt all the way to the gym. Then it hurt more in the Pilates class because we kept doing child's pose between exercises. The bruise is not very dark or very large, but I think it's deep because it still hurts somewhat.
One time I was walking with a friend at Hunter and I slipped on the floor (for no reason) and had to bend at a 90* angle before I could straighten myself right. I think he was embarrassed to be walking with me, but it was nothing compared to the time I fell at Walgreen's. That time, I was walking toward the doors from the photo desk and felt my foot slip out from under me. I put my other foot down to catch myself and it slipped right out and I ended up falling flat on my tush at the front of the store and everyone waiting on the checkout lines turned to look. I got up, brushed myself off and continued walking.
"Are you okay?" a woman asked.
Firefox just put a red squiggle under my "okay," and won't take it away until I write, "OK." Imagine that. Anyway, the awkwardness was just hanging in the air and I felt bad for everyone else so I laughed and told them that it wasn't a big deal, of course I was fine, and that I fall all the time. I didn't want them to feel uncomfortable witnessing something embarrassing for me, so I acted like I wasn't embarrassed and sure enough, I wasn't embarrassed anyway.
It's not embarrassing to slip or fall, you just pick yourself up and continue on your way. Everyone has their way of doing things, slipping is just a part of how I do my walking. The end.

I'm Working on a Business Card

Miryam came over to bake hamentashen today. Actually, allow me to phrase that more accurately: Miryam came over and I baked hamentashen. :) In other news, I held a stranger's baby last night at my father's cousin's wedding. The woman let me hold her baby the whole time and he was of the smiley sort. It was awesome.
"Daddy, I made a glasses chain with the beads you got me in London last time."
"Oh, they were glass?"
"What?"
"The beads were glass?"
"No, a glasses chain."
"Oh! Who for?"
"Myself."

Synonym [sin-uh-nim] –noun

The cafeteria was crowded with late lunchers and friends hanging out before their classes. Newcombe and I sat next to each other, hunched over the Metro New York crossword puzzle.
"Atoll feature. What's an atoll?"
Every few minutes we'd see a flash out of the corner of our eyes, look around, and find the same man with a professional camera around his neck snapping random shots of people. The last time I'd want to be photographed is when I'm eating, but then, my father likes taking pictures when we go out to eat, so who am I to judge?
"The New York Times puzzle is so much better," I said. "It actually makes you think. This puzzle's just a bunch of cinnamons. CINNAMONS!"
"Oh Gd."
I looked up to give Nukes a look and found myself staring straight into the camera man's lens exactly 8 feet away from me and blinking red. I burst out laughing. Nukes looked up and started laughing as well. We spent the next two minutes trying to regain composure and finding ourselves unable to hold back our laughter while the camera snapped about 8 pictures in rapid succession.
The moral of this story is that you should check the Hunter website daily to see when they change the banner loop to include our picture.

You Put the "Lent" in "Valentine's Day"

Today is the best Valentine's Day ever!
First, Zahava gave me a Facebook gift. Then Ariel asked me to be his exclusive Valentino because we've been Facebook-married for over a year. After that, Michal IMed me to wish me a happy birthday because she thought my screenname was Miryam's. And lastly, Tova asked me to be her Valentine.
I know it sounds silly, but I love v-day for the ridiculousness of it. So to all my readers: you put the "roses" in "rhinoceroses" and have a happy v-day!

Maybe I Just Have a Soft Spot for the Irish

All hail the mighty power of Van the Man and Levon's beard in this video:

When I'm bored, I like watching videos on Youtube of my top performers. I thought The Brothers covering The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down and Into the Mystic was the best thing to ever happen to me, but I'm pretty sure this video (though not live) knocks that out. Really, Van Morrison is one of the best show-stealers ever.

It's Four o'Clock in the Morning Dammit, Listen to Me Good

Before I go to sleep, I feel a dire need to address a certain situation that happened tonight. The situation that happened to me is called a "plot twist" in literary terms and since I am an English major, I will call it just that. Please sit back and enjoy my tale of Plot Twist.
I went to a friend whose house I had never been to before for Shabbos. Now, everyone knows that you should never go to a friend whose house you have NEVER EVER been to for an entire Shabbos, but my parents were going away and she and I really get along well. Shabbos, as it turned out, was awesome. My friend was the best and sweetest and her mother approached borderline force-feeding me, but was very thoughtful and caring in that way.
When Shabbos was over, Debbie showed me her bags and shoes (she's an accessories major at FIT, so I'm talking the bags and shoes she's made) and let me borrow a beautiful clutch for the party we were going to. We drove into the city and as I was nearing the street the party was on, I saw a car around the corner put his lights on. I turned the corner and got the spot in just enough time. This spot from Heaven was not just around the corner from where we needed to be, it was about 6 feet longer than my car. A parking pleasure never found in the city.
Once at the party, I gave my happy birthdays and headed toward the bathroom. On my way back, I heard someone say, "Hey! I've seen you three times in two weeks!" I looked up and saw the mystery tall, dark haired, hairy guy I had first seen at Eli's party and thought was familiar and then seen at Hunter this Monday on my way to class. He was at the bar for a co-worker's birthday party, which is TOTALLY random, and we spoke for a little bit.
Later, I met a really nice guy and we had a nice conversation and then when he was leaving I realized that everyone I knew had left and I didn't want to be an awkward single girl, so I decided I'd leave too. Being as I'm awesomely nice, I gave him a ride to his apartment. Then I got lost on my way to highway, but made it okay.
Paranoid because of the last ticket I got, I drove the Palisades at 62 mph the entire way. By the time I got to the 55 mph zone, it was close to 3 am and since I was already exhausted out of my mind and oddly happy-excited about the way my night had gone, I went a little faster. I accelerated to 74 and put my car into cruise. A moment later, a cop came out of the side of the highway and started following me with his lights on. There is no way I'm not getting points for this--it's my third ticket.
Furthermore, the policeman was really condescending. He asked me where I was coming from and I said the city.
"But where are you coming from?" he asked again.
I told him that I was coming from a birthday party but I didn't drink anything.
The girl who stands around birthday parties with soda when everyone else is drinking--the girl who drank coffee before going out to make sure she wouldn't fall asleep on the road--the girl who did 62 for the bulk of the Palisades to be cautious about tickets--that's the girl who got a ticket. And my weekend had been going so well up until that point...I'd cry myself to sleep, but I've already cried my eyes out and cried/howled to my mother over the phone.

In Fact, It's Cold as Hell

This past spring, my tooth hurt when I walked. It was the oddest thing, but every time I'd put my right foot down on a hard surface, the teeth on the upper right side of my mouth would start to hurt. I called the dentist for an appointment and they told me they didn't have one for a week. I insisted on one before then because I was going away for Shavuot and nearly cried from pain when I did nothing more than walk. They squeezed me in Erev Shavuot during my doctor's lunch break.
At first the hygienist saw me. She asked me all sorts of questions and ended up just taking x-rays. The dentist came into the room and took a peek at my x-rays.
"Are you having allergies?" he asked.
I told him I wasn't. He pulled out my x-rays from exactly one year and two days prior to the day I was there and lit them up for me.
"Your file says that you came in a year ago complaining that the exact same teeth hurt when you walked. Did you know that?"
I had no recollection and let him know. I might have been the first person in the history of the world with this problem, but apparently it wasn't my first time experiencing it.
According to my dentist, my allergies that I didn't know I had were so bad that my sinuses were inflamed all the way down my gums to right above the roots of my teeth where, when I stepped too hard, my teeth rub up to. I thanked him for the diagnoses and made a mental note not to panic and visit him the next time I had that problem.
Last winter I had a cold so bad that when I'd blow my nose (and I'm not a hard nose blower), I'd get dizzy. My head felt stuffed with mucus and I was all around not well. It was so bad it had to be more than just a cold, so I made an appointment at the doctor.
"Yes," I told him when he asked if I felt dizzy and pained when I leaned forward.
"No," my mucus wasn't green.
"No," I haven't been coughing up phlegm.
Etc.
"You just have a bad cold," Dr. Simons said. "...Like you did last year."
"I had a bad cold last year?"
"Yes. And you thought it might have been a sinus infection, so you came in. It was just a cold."
"When was this?"
"The chart says same time last year."
I made a mental note not to bother the doctor again when I'd inevitably have a bad cold.
That's a lot of words for me to just say that I'm having that bad cold.

"You Can Call Me"

I woke up this morning in a panic that I had overslept and was late. I sat up in the tight and twisted sleeping bag my cousin lent me (which I had on top of an air mattress) and panicked. I was too sleepy to think about where I was or what time it was, but as I was unzipping the sleeping bag, I had a sense that something was wrong. Everyone was still sleeping. Didn't Zahava say her roommate wakes up at 5:46? 6:46? I checked my phone to find that it was only 4:26.
The next time I woke up, I jumped out of bed to wash up because my cousin had warned me that one of her roommates wakes up at 7:15 and she has a long morning ritual that extends to 7:30, so for those 15 minutes I won't be able to use the bathroom. While getting my stuff together, Zahava woke up to ask the time. 6:07, I told her. It wasn't until I was brushing my teeth that I realized it was 6:07 and not 7:07.
Another weird thing about last night is that my phone shows two missed calls in the 2am hour from different 914 numbers. The calls are three minutes apart and one of the callers left a message. The guy who left the message had an accent, so I can't tell if he's saying "Dina" or "Diyanna" but the message sounds like this: "Dina, it's the bus driver, I'm waiting here outside. You can call me."