Updating Blog Posts from the Last Few Years

What's new? Nothing and everything.

Everything big has stayed the same -- same job, same apartment, same husband -- but there are a few changes here and there. Release your bated breath. Here are some updates to a few of the events I've written about over the last few years.

February 2009: Yep, Paul and I are still reading presidential biographies, although at a significantly slower pace. We're finally in the 20th century, at William Howard Taft. In addition, Paul continues to update his blog chronicling the project, Presidents by the Book. My favorite president so far? John Quincy Adams.

May 2010: When the bar below our apartment suddenly closed, we unexpectedly get some restful nights of sleep all summer long. I was nervous when a new seafood restaurant moved into the space in 2011, but it's been a good neighbor. It's become a popular neighborhood joint, and the bar neither stays open too late nor attracts the same kind of loudmouth clientele that the old bar did. I wasn't sure how I'd like walking by the diners enjoying the outdoor seating every nice day, but it's not bad at all. In fact, I like it. It makes our block pleasantly lively. I haven't tried the place yet, but Paul's had a drink or two there with a friend. Not bad at all.

January 2011: I was sooooo excited when I found the one and only restaurant in New York City that served Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki. It was cheap and delicious, and I was craving it only a few months later. And thus I was sooooo disappointed to find out that that Go Japanese Restaurant closed its doors. Other restaurants in town serve the inferior (my opinion only) Osaka-style okonomiyaki, which is more like a pizza or omelet to Hiroshima's layered version. The search continues. Paul says he's going to try making it at home.

April 2011: When we visited St. Patrick's Old Cathedral one snowy Saturday last year, I had to keep my gloves on throughout the entire mass because it was so cold. When we repeated our visit one hot and humid afternoon last summer, we found out that it doesn't have air conditioning either. If there was an award for buildings that are the least comfortable at all times of year and in all forms of weather, it would be a top contender. I think I've blocked from my mind that I lived without air conditioning until I went to college.

October 2011: Occupy Wall Street protesters were officially evicted from Zuccotti Park, a short walk away from where I work, in mid-November, about two months after they took over. When I visited the camp last fall, the weather was still fairly mild. But when Paul and I walked by a month later, the park was a canopy of tents. Not long after the protesters were given the boot, Christmas lights decorated the park's trees as they seem to every winter, and everything went back to normal. Almost. You'll still occasionally hear of protesters trying to re-occupy the park, but nothing seems to last.

Present: We still own our house in Galloway, and we once again have some people there who will actually pay rent. That's a big improvement over the last tenant, who shorted us several months of rent. This is the third family there since we moved to New York more than four years ago.

A Good Night's Sleep, Every Night

My biggest source of frustration (at least at home!) was suddenly and unexpectedly eliminated last week.

The bar downstairs closed.

Faithful readers of this blog know that the bar/Mexican restaurant two floors below us has been the cause of many middle-of-the-night awakenings. Fights. Drunkards shouting obscenities. More fights.

These things didn't happen every weekend, but often enough to make it a major annoyance. We never called the cops because of the noise, but we came pretty close a few times.

You may also remember that several months ago our landlord told us that the bar was on its way out. A week, a month, three months later the bar was still there and I had given up that it would ever be gone. That's why it was such a lovely surprise to see the windows papered over when I came home from work one night.

Now we have a different problem. Paul said he woke up in the middle of the night because it was too quiet.

So family members and friends: Come visit! I can now guarantee fight-free Friday nights and a good night's sleep ... as long as you don't mind the regular din of traffic and the incessant tune of the ice cream trucks.

Ping Pong & Beer: The Perfect Combination

I wasn't in the mood to go home one recent Friday evening, but I didn't have any plans. So I gave Paul a ring on my way to the subway. Miraculously, I didn't get his voicemail. Instead, he too was just getting ready to leave.

Let's take a walk, I suggested. He was game. He works exactly 4 stops away, so I met him at the door to his building.

We didn't have a particular destination. First we dawdled along the not-so-scenic streets of downtown Brooklyn and then finally made our way to the much more lively Park Slope.

We walked and talked, all the while keeping an eye out for a good happy hour special. I knew we hit the jackpot when I saw the chalkboard scrawlings outside a bar called Royale. The lure: $3 beers ... and a ping pong table in the back.

Happy hour ended in about 2 minutes, so we hurriedly ordered our drinks and waited for the couple playing ping pong to disappear. My glass was almost empty when they finally stopped playing. So we ordered another round (at full price -- we fell into their trap!) and snagged the table.

I beat Paul twice.

I hadn't played in many years, but ping pong used to be a staple in my family. My parents have a table, and we would regularly play in the garage each summer. I specifically remember having family tournaments at my and my sister's birthday parties each year.

The bar looked familiar, and then I remembered that we had been to Royale once before, right after we first moved to Brooklyn. Back then, there was no ping pong table -- only a dance floor. I much prefer the ping pong.

An Ode to Ryan Maguire's

Ryan Maguire's Ale House was the bar of choice for my coworkers long before Paul and I started joining them almost a year ago.

Why? A great choice of reasonably priced beers, nice bartenders, a good jukebox and plenty of space. And it's only five blocks from the office.

Until last week. An early morning fire destroyed the bar.

I'm sorry for the owner and the employees. I'm sorry for the people living in the apartments above (four hospitalized, and all expected to fully recover). And I'm sorry that a place with so many good memories literally went up in smoke.

New York has thousands of bars. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands. But it might as well have about three, because that's the number I frequent with any sort of regularity. Sure, New York has quantity. But the diamonds are hidden, and in Ryan's we had found one. Now it's back to the search.

Shuffleboard in Queens

Call it beginner's luck, but I'm pretty good at shuffleboard.

Not the kind you're thinking of. The kind that fits in a bar.

The idea's the same. Slide the puck, knock your opponents' pucks off the board, stay within the boundaries. I had a knack, winning my first three games before being crushed by another newbie.

I beat Paul, but he obliterated me in darts, like usual.

Unfortunately I won't be getting much shuffleboard practice, since I played at a bar in Queens that's a good 20- or 30-minute drive away (more about that on Friday). Ironically, the only other bar at which I've ever seen a shuffleboard table is the lone drinking establishment in a small village near my parents' house. Just another reason to visit home!

Snow Cones for Grownups

When it comes to drinks, conventional knowledge says that New York far exceeds Columbus in variety-- if you're willing to pay.

But maybe Columbus is catching up ... without the corresponding price tag.

For example:

When my friend Sam wanted to visit Columbus' Bristol Bar during her bachelorette party Labor Day weekend, I was eager to follow. Our book club met there nearly every month, drawn by the $2 martinis during happy hour.

But Bristol had just undergone some renovations and had introduced some new drinks.

Snow cones.

For $3 the bar fashioned a mixed drink over crushed ice in a traditional paper snow cone cup. My vodka-and-passion-fruit-cordial was tasty, messy, and cold. Maybe it's not as classy as a martini, but it sure is more fun.

An Update to the Last 20 Months

Ahhh, the update post: A perennial favorite of every busy blogger.

But although this site is more than 1 1/2 old -- nearly a toddler now! -- this is my very first one. That means I have a lot to update.

In the spirit of "what's old is new again," here are the epilogues to several previous posts:

August 2008 : Parking Ticket: Not paying. We fought online the parking ticket we received after our car was towed to an illegal spot when the street where it was originally parked was being repaved. I crafted a detailed explanation of the situation and waited for days ... weeks ... months for a response. Finally we got a letter by mail: The ticket was dismissed, but not for the reasons we gave. But it didn't say why. Whatever--more money in my pocket. Unfortunately we got another (albeit smaller) ticket when we forgot to renew our e-check inspection. Whoops.

February 2009: Presidential Biographies: Still reading. I'm on #9, William Henry Harrison, in our quest to read a biography of every president in the order they were in office. Harrison might have been in office for the shortest amount of time, but I think he might have the longest biography so far. I did enjoy the chapter I read today, however, in which he and Mad Anthony Wayne go to Fort Defiance, in my hometown. Wayne called the area the "Grand Emporium of hostile Indians." Don't remember learning that in 7th grade Ohio History.

March 2009: CSA: Not this year. We briefly considered joining Bay Ridge's Community Supported Agriculture program but ultimately decided against it. I was all for trying new fruits and vegetables, but I wasn't enthusiastic about getting the car out every Saturday morning to pick them up. Parking is hard enough in the neighborhood without moving the car unnecessarily. I miss having a garage.

April 2009: M train: Still riding. The proposed service cuts to New York City subway and bus routes thankfully never materialized, so I'm still riding my beloved (and empty) M train to and from work. The price of my unlimited 30-day transit pass increased slightly from $81 to $89. I'm not complaining-- it's still cheaper than the gas I bought for my 70-mile round trip commute from Galloway to Springfield.

And some odds and ends:

House: Still landlords. The original couple who rented our Galloway house recently moved out, and a new family moved in a few weeks ago. They're considering renting-to-own, which makes us very happy. Sometimes we joke that if we move back to Columbus we'll be able to move right back into the house we left behind. But that will not be happening. Never. The best thing in Galloway was the taco van, and that's sad.

Bar: Still open. Our Brooklyn landlord told us that the bar/Mexican restaurant two stories below us would be closing in two weeks. That was about three weeks ago. It's still open, but it hasn't been so loud lately. In the early days here it was the pounding bass that kept me awake at night. Now it's the couples who are loudly breaking their engagements on the sidewalk below my bedroom window.

Dog Surfing and Other Things To Do in NY

We've lived in New York for more than a year and a half now, and yet I still have so much left to do.

But with the three-day Memorial Day weekend, I at least made a serious dent in my to-do list.

On Monday we ate at Hinsch's, an old-school neighborhood luncheonette just a few blocks from here. It's not open at night, so we haven't had too many opportunities to give it a try. My waffle was good, but next time I'll be heading straight for the superb-looking sundaes.

On Sunday we went to the pub quiz night at our favorite bar, Pacific Standard. We did just as horribly as I feared (unfortunately I am an expert on neither the Philippines or Provincetown, Massachusetts), but we didn't do too badly in the general knowledge category.

On Saturday we visited a basilica about 20 blocks from here followed by a stroll through Chinatown.

But Friday ... ahhh, Friday.

What better way to start a long weekend than a walk across the Brooklyn Bridge on a beautiful night? The entrance is just a short walk from my place of work, so after a few drinks with my co-workers, we took off.

When we stepped foot in Brooklyn, we vaguely knew where we were and decided to go exploring. Finally Paul recognized some landmarks and realized we were pretty close to his office. We were walking through a pedestrian area that Paul crosses on the way to Starbucks, when all of a sudden he said he just had to show me something.

That something? A statue of a dog.

His wish? To have a photo of him surfing on it.

Yes, this was what Paul crossed off of his to-do list last weekend:

Paul, Old and Wise

Paul turned the grand old age of 30 on Sunday, and in an effort to drown his sorrows I planned a tour of eight of the best beer bars in New York over the weekend.

Yep, I really am the best wife a boy (or at least Paul the homebrewer) could ask for.

The beer odyssey, as Paul called it, was split between two nights. We hit four bars on Friday and another four on Saturday. Half were old favorites, half we knew by legend only.

So here's the itinerary and reviews, with help from Paul.

The stops on Friday:

1. Burp Castle. A small bar in the East Village specializing in Belgian beers. The bar is dedicated to the monastic tradition of beer, complete with murals of monks and beer barrels on the wall. I especially like the image of monks on a raft, drinking it up while a ship sank in the background. I also like my Lindemans Framboise-- yummy raspberry beer.

2. Blind Tiger Ale House. A bar in the West Village with a large selection of mostly American, English and Irish beers. It's a no frills type of place to enjoy a quality beer-- substance over style here (although the working fireplace is a nice touch).

3. The Ginger Man. Located not far from the Empire State Building is the largest bar (by New York standards) I'd ever been to in Manhattan. The large number of bottles and few draft selections cater to the young urban professionals. Anyone from Columbus would call it the rich man's Brothers. Paul was especially pleased to find one of his favorite beer here: Elysian's Avatar. It's brewed in Seattle, and that's the only place he'd ever drank it.

4. The Brazen Head. We ended the night in Brooklyn, at this average neighborhood bar (though not our neighborhood. Your average taps, with a higher than average number of people drinking cans of PBR. Paul calls that the beer of hipsters.

Stops on Saturday:

1. Spuyten Duyvil. We began Saturday night in Williamsburg, another of Brooklyn's hipster havens. This place is known also known for it's Belgian's, and also for being kind of hard to find. The only "sign" was the small label on the bar's mailbox. Paul says the bar was like being in an indie rocker's basement. But I guess that's high praise, because it was his favorite bar of the weekend that we had never before visited. Another plus: the gluhwein, or spiced wine that's served warm in a coffee mug.

2. Barcade. Consistently a favorite, we frequent this Williamsburg bar equally for the excellent selection of draft beers as well as for the arcade games that line the walls of the former industrial space. Paul says the bar has an amazing selection of beers from the tri-state area (meaning New York, New Jersey and Connecticut). Also an amazing selection of games: Tetris, Frogger, Marble Madness, Crystal Castle, and Outrun to name a few.

3. Heartland Brewery. We first went to this Times Square restaurant/bar/brewery on our honeymoon, and Paul fell in love (with the beer, not with me). The old standby.

4. Pacific Standard. At the stroke of midnight we celebrated Paul's birthday at this, our favorite bar not only in Brooklyn but in all of New York. We briefly considered ordering Miller High Life ("The Champagne of Beers") to celebrate the occasion, but instead opted for a couple of pints from their large selection of mostly West Coast beers. Paul says it makes him want to become a Hollywood liberal.

Sorry- no pictures of beer for the blog. You know what that looks like anyway, right? But I did snap one photo in a subway station Saturday night that proves that although Paul may be 30, he hasn't quite succumbed to old age (or maybe even adulthood!) yet.

Culture and Video Games

I had wanted to visit the Cloisters, but it was so far away that it never seemed convenient to go.

Paul had wanted to visit Barcade, but the lack of a direct train route from Bay Ridge would make that a pain, too.

So what did we do? We decided to make both inconvenient journeys in one day.

First, a little explanation.

The Cloisters is a part of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. However, it's in the far northwest reaches of Manhattan, and you can only get their by subway followed by a bus or a 10-minute walk. It's small but is well-known for its tapestries and architectural displays.

Barcade is a (what else?) cross between a bar and an arcade. It has a wide selection of microbrews that regularly changes along with about 30 old arcade games you can play for a quarter apiece.

So with the Saturday newspaper in hand, we boarded a subway after lunch and made the 90-minute ride to the Cloisters. I knew it was on the edge of a park, but I didn't realize we would also have beautiful views from the museum of the Hudson River below. I had never seen it, aside from out an airplane window.

As for the museum, I especially like the stained glass windows and the unicorn tapestries, like this one. Obviously, the doorways, archways and exhibits were beautiful.





We were at Barcade in time for happy hour. I don't know if Paul was more excited about the beer or the games. We sampled them both. I watched him play a Mario Brothers, Marble Madness and a couple games I had never heard of but which he assured me helped form his childhood. I played a couple of games of Frogger and found out that I'm not nearly as good as I was 20 years ago.

We capped off the night at a Polish restaurant, where I ordered the potato pancakes and some delicious blueberry pierogis.

After that: home. And it didn't take as long as we had anticipated. I guess we'll be going back to Barcade after all.

Vacation in the city

Memorial Day weekend felt like a vacation, and I don't think I was ever further than 15 miles from our apartment.

My friend Sam and her boyfriend, Don, came to the city to visit us and Sam's college friend Jannette and her husband. I worked with Sam in Springfield, and Sam, Don, Paul and I would go out nearly every Friday night for the best pizza in Columbus.

We started the weekend right- the six of us went to happy hour at Southern Hospitality, a bar on the Upper East Side (one of the owners happens to be Justin Timberlake).

That was followed by a meal at the nearby Vietnamese restaurant Vermicelli. The excellent weather was surpassed only by the delicious food, and we sat at one of the many tables on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

I think I look slightly scared in this photo because I was seriously learning to use chopsticks. Usually I give up and go for the fork. But I managed the whole meal this time.

Paul and I skipped the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island the following day, but we met up with everyone at Bohemian Hall, an outdoor biergarten in Astoria that we had been meaning to try. The weather was lovely and the beer was cheap- who could ask for more? Ah, yes, and there was some sort of Czech festival, so there was polka music for a time as well.

And that was only the first part of the weekend! More about Spamalot, Coney Island and some of the best cheesecake in the city next post.

Odds and Ends from Ohio

Last Thursday night was my sister's not-quite bachelorette party.

"Not quite" because there were just as many men (including Jay and Paul) there as women.

We went to a bar in Paulding County, not too many miles from where Katie's husband grew up and where they are building a house. They've been to this bar numerous times, but I'd only ever heard of it.

It was extremely different than any bar in Columbus, let alone New York City. This photo on the pool table probably explains all you need to know:

At least they asked politely.

I knew this wasn't going to be the type of place we normally frequented when Paul asked the bartender if we could start a tab and she replied that he would have to get permission from the owner of the bar. Nevermind. And when she asked for our ID, I'm sure she'd never seen any from New York before.

Highlight: A man and a woman got in a fight at the bar-- I think at one point she might have asked him if he wanted to take it outside. Katie leaned over and told me they're married-- and the owners of the bar.

Don't get me wrong-- it wasn't all bad. I don't sing, but the karaoke (including a couple of Katie's friends) was pretty good. And the drinks were extremely cheap. In fact, buying a six-pack of Bacardi would be so expensive in a New York grocery store that it was about equal in price to the $2 bottles they were selling in the bar.

In other Ohio news, Paul and I are now landlords. Just using that word makes me laugh. We weren't able to sell the house, but we did get renters for at least a year. We have a property manager, so he'll forward us the rent checks and tell us if the renters have any problems. And I have no problem with that.

Friday night fun

Friday night I had a strong urge to visit the Ravari Room, a Columbus bar Paul and I frequented with friends to start many a weekend. Instead, we went to Pacific Standard.

We found this place when we were first looking around Brooklyn for a place to live. It was near our hotel and had just recently opened. It's about 20 or 30 minutes from our apartment now, near one of the major subway stops in Brooklyn.

They specialize in west coast beer and sports. Paul likes the different brews on tap. I like the wide assortment of board games. We monopolized Connect 4 for about an hour, and someone else asked for it from me before I could even return it to the bar. Rock'em Sock'em Robots also seemed to be a popular choice, and a lively game of Twister was happening at the entrance to the bar.

One thing we've quickly learned about bars in New York-- they're open until 4 a.m. That's why it's loud so late outside our apartment (although the cold weather has put a stop to most of that).

Brooklyn Botanic Garden and Williamsburg

With only a few more weeks (days?) of sunny, warm weather, Paul and I devoted Saturday to exploration.

First up: the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. Entrance is free from 10 a.m. to noon Saturdays (yep, I'm still a cheapskate, even here). According to a brochure we picked up there, it's 52 acres with more than 10,000 plants. I liked the Japanese Hill-and-Pond Garden (Gail and Joe-- that photo's for you!), and Paul enjoyed walking around the Herb Garden. It almost felt like we were back at his mom's house.

The trees and plants were green and lush, and I look forward to going back in the spring to visit the rose garden. But even among what must be one of the most peaceful places in Brooklyn, you could still hear the traffic not terribly far away.

Next up was the Brooklyn Brewery. Obviously my home-brewing husband was looking forward to the Saturday morning tours (also free) and samples (alas, $3). He hadn't been to the brewery before, but he had visited the neighborhood for work not long ago and assured me I would like it.

But first, the brewery. The tour is in one large room of a warehouse and the "bar" is an adjoining room with picnic tables and taps. I believe the bar is only open on Saturday afternoons for the tours and on Friday nights. Oh, and there's a skinny and extremely tame cat that has the run of the place and seemed to like to nuzzle against the guests and sit on the table where you buy your beer tokens.

It's in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, near Queens and just east of Manhattan. I fell in love with the neighborhood on the spot. But besides the rents being out of our price range, we agreed that we're probably not cool enough to live there. As Paul said, we would probably always have to eat at vegan restaurants where they used humanely-slaughtered beans. The place did have a lot of vegetarian, vegan and environmentally-friendly options (we ate lunch at a cafe where we ordered organic pancakes and organic french fries). I like that. And I really enjoyed all the one-of-a-kind specialty stores and the young crowds (I find that "hipster" is often repeated when referring to this neighborhood).

Another possible problem to living there-- I probably don't have the required number of ironic t-shirts. They were so prevalent that I think we started ignoring them and then had trouble remembering the good ones when I tried to make a list (examples: "Jesus was homeless" and "Relationships are hard work" with pictures of tools). But I'm sure I could up my collection. I would probably start with the shirt in the photo. (It's not true-- I love NY!)