The Hospital Tour

Tonight, Nilda and I went to a meet and greet with the practice Nilda's doctor is part of, followed by a tour of the birthing floor and postpartum rooms at the hospital. The hospital is Columbia at 168th Street, nosy. They do this meet and greet about every six weeks, which seemed pretty often to me. I was thinking that there would be 3 or 4 couples and that we'd have a quick chat in the lobby followed by a short tour. But we get there to see a ton of people and chairs set up for a presentation and a spread of cheese and crackers and OH MY GOD THERE ARE SO MANY PREGNANT PEOPLE!!! At least you know the cheese is safe for pregnant women.

There were maybe 45-50 couples there, easily 100 people. I had no idea that there were this many pregnant women in New York, and this was just one practice at one hospital. I'm sitting there thinking, "Wow, these humans can really reproduce quickly!" And these women were pregnant, like, really pregnant. I was concerned that some of them would pop and there would be baby all over the walls, and we'd be picking baby out of our hair for days.

One of the doctors says that the 7 doctors in the practice do about 2-3 deliveries every day, and that the hospital as a whole does 10-15 deliveries a day. I haven't put my fact-checkers on this, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that's a lot of babies.

P.S. - Note to the universe - let's not have many deliveries around December 17, so that Nilda and I can get our own room. Just putting that out there.

Serena Morgan

On Sunday at about 4:28 pm, my sister gave birth to her third daughter and my sixth niece. Introducing Serena Morgan:
Nilda and I rushed in to Philly to meet her. Rushing to the hospital to see the baby reminded me of when Francesca was born, except instead of everyone expecting us to rush in, we heard, "You don't have to come in, it's a big trip." Serena, welcome to being the third born, just like Andrew and I. I'm sure you will have an empty baby book and your oldest sister will complain about how easy you have it, just like your mother still does with me.

The first person I congratulated when I got to the hospital was my mother. I think her goal in life is to populate the planet with as many grandchildren as possible. 2011 is looking to be a productive year for her.
That morning, Caryn had been complaining about not feeling well, but refused to call the doctor. She would say, "I'm just having a moment," which turned out to be contractions. When she finally was got to the hospital at around noon, she was already 4 cm. She gave birth just 4.5 hours later, all natural. I know her labor was difficult, but god damn she makes it look easy.
Francesca, who is 8, was holding Serena and said, "I'm doing great." She is. Serena, you are lucky to have Francesca for a big sister, just like I was lucky to have Caryn (and Julie!) for a big sister.
Lacey, who is 5, had a different reaction. She kept saying, "She's gonna eat BOOBY!!" When I told her that Serena wasn't really eating booby and that milk was in the booby, her eyes got all wide and she said, "Really??"
Between Forrest's two girls, he now has five girls. FIVE GIRLS!!! He said, "I'm done. I don't know about Caryn, but I'm done."
With some of the other girls, Caryn had worked hard to get them to stop sucking their thumbs. Serena, therefore, was born already sucking her thumb (see the top picture). The nurses actually said, "We've never seen a newborn suck her thumb like that before!" Good luck, Caryn.

Serena already knows I'm better than Uncle Andrew. She's so smart!
I wound up watching the first quarter of the Sunday night Eagles/Falcons game in the hospital with Caryn & Forrest, then I watched the second half with my dad on his giant tv. A pretty great day.

Babymoon

Vampire Diaries starts again tonight, which means it's time for me to blog. We went on our one last trip before the baby comes and it was great. Here are the highlights I feel like writing about:

• Having Nilda wake up at 3:30 am to make a 6:35 flight was a FANTASTIC idea! She was excited and enthusiastic to be getting an early start.
  
• We took a small plane to meet our non-stop flight in Philly. Philly is really pretty from the air. God damn, I'm excited about Michael Vick this year.
• The purpose of the trip was to relax, nothing more. I love days where your biggest decisions are ocean or pool; which chair to pick; what to drink and where to eat.
• Whoever decided to call a rum and coke a Cuba Libra was a genius.
• The ocean water was fantastic and warm. But I swear to God, between the sun and drinking, I think I peed in the ocean enough to raise the global temperatures at least 2 degrees.
• MVP of the trip = my new prescription sunglasses.
• It's much easier having Nilda be able to speak in Spanish to everyone who works there. The price is that, inevitably, the conversation always comes around to my ability to speak Spanish. Nilda proudly says that I'm able to understand, which I don't have the heart to tell her is a lie. Yes-o, I under-o stand-o.
• "Estoy tomando para tres" = I'm drinking for three.
• There is a sisterhood among pregnant women. Among pregnant men, not so much.
• The resort had a pair of guys that went around singing at dinner, one playing guitar and the other rocking the maracas, and I mean rocking the maracas. But in the end they were a disappointment, since they couldn't play my request for "It's Raining Men."
• Nilda was cryng real tears on the way to the airport. Not because the trip was over, but because after the babymoon comes the baby. I was starting to plan our next trip only to remember that we would not be going on another trip like this for a long long time. But, I cannot wait for the trip to Disney.

We're getting ready for the kid. As part of some kind of study that Nilda's in, she had a 3D ultrasound last week, where she saw the kid moving all over the place. He flopped around and pushed when he didn't like the position Nilda was in. She was utterly amazed and exclaimed, "There's a baby boy in there!" Like there had been an armadillo there before. It made it real that there's a boy in there and he's going to be out here before we know it, pooping like a champ. It's really exciting.

P.S. - Nilda acts like her bellybutton is the baby's peephole, moving her stomach around so the baby can see things.

Away Message

The kid is 24 weeks and kicking his mother like crazy. He flops around a lot until he gets comfortable, then rests for a few minutes before flopping around some more. I have no idea where he gets this. I've been reading the baby books Nilda has been making me read (no, I DO want to read them, Nilda!), and they say that, in utero, babies will stretch when they wake up for a nap. How fucking cute is that. Also, I'm going to start playing music for the kid because they also say that the kid, later on in life, will like whatever music he hears when he's in the womb. No, Nilda, that's not Phish.

Nilda and I are leaving tomorrow for vacation. I'd call it a "babymoon" or "babycation," but those seem like really annoying phrases. So does "dadechelor party," but I want one of those so I'll keep my criticisms of the name to myself. We're going to a resort in Cap Cana and here's a live webcam so you can see what I'm doing while you're stuck at work. I'll be the one at the pool bar. Our flight leaves at 6:45 am on Wednesday morning and getting Nilda to leave the house at 4:00 am is not going to be pretty.

When we come back, things are going to go pretty fast. My sister's kid (she doesn't want to find out, but it's going to be a girl) will be born in September around Rosh Hashanah, then we have Nilda's shower, work stuff, Thanksgiving and then it's December 17 already. I spoke to a client today who has a one-month old. I asked him how the sleep is going. He said ok, but he didn't envy me, since I'll have to go to work and think every day. I don't envy me, either.

Now I'm going to make you watch two videos. This is Mister Rogers defending PBS' funding in a senate hearing in 1969. He stresses that, unlike cartoons, his show tries to deal with the drama that a child faces, like dealing with brothers and sisters and feeling angry. He talks about trying to give children a sense of control over their emotions. He's great and it shows that there was more going on than just him changing shoes.



This article is about Paulie Gee, who opened Paulie Gee's pizzeria which is amazing. We went there on the pizza tour a few weeks ago and I've been too lazy to write about it since. Anyway, the guy was in IT for his entire career until he decided, at age 56, to go into the pizza business. This video is about how he was rejected for a job as a general manager before opening his own place that is now, arguably, one of the best in the city. It wasn't Difara's, but it was a very close second and, in many ways, a much better experience. Or maybe it was just the romance of the four of us guys with our sparkling red wine and sharing 6 pizzas. It was a magical evening, blog title = "Romancing the Pizza Stone."

Happy Birthday, Dad

We threw my Dad a surprise 70th birthday party this weekend and he was totally surprised. We didn't tell my mom, since she can't keep a secret, but then she found out through a cousin and refused to tell any of us that she knew. Turns out my Mom is only motivated to keep a secret when she's out to prove she can keep a secret. Andrew and I gave a speech of "Stuff Our Dad Says" and since you all know my Dad, a few quotes will be quite meaningful. Here's the tribute to Jeff:

Stuff Our Dad Says:

I get along with the grandkids because we have a common enemy.

I don't have a problem with time. Phyllis does.

Do you know who the largest purchaser of jalapeño peppers is? Morton
Salt (for the hot salt).

Sushi is good when it’s cooked right.

You know what? You know what? You know what? I don’t want to hear it.

I’m Poppop. I don’t say no.

You know what relative humidity is, don’t you?

Who are those M&Ms for?

Some days I wake up grumpy. Some days I let her sleep.

I don’t care if you’re 40, you’re still at the kids table. If you’re an adult, you
don’t get presents.

Best joke ever = a man says to his wife, “I want to have sex with you in the
worst way.” She says back, “You mean standing up in a hammock?”

You’ll be old enough to use the chain saw when I’m dead.

Driving two houses down the block to Caryn and Forrest's. Better set the
GPS.

Wow, I really fell asleep there!

Someone forgot to order the General Tso’s mild. Oooh!! Hot!!

I am enjoying my kid’s inheritance now.

When I get to the nursing home, all I ask for is a room next to Phyllis.

I drive at night. I have my own teeth. I still have hair. I’m a catch!

Things Dad Would Never Say:

This is the best bacon I’ve ever tasted.

Just throw it anywhere in the refrigerator. It doesn’t matter how well it’s all
organized or if anyone can find anything.

Take your time, Phyllis. We can be a little late.

Sure, I’ll have another beer.

I can’t wait to get to the beach.

We don’t need navigation. We can always stop and ask for directions.

Happy birthday, Dad. I'd tell you I love you, but we don't do that. You are a catch!

Totonno's

I finally dragged Nilda out to the far ends of the Earth (i.e. Coney Island) for pizza. I am the most accomplished husband of all time. We went to Totonno's, which you've never heard of but is wicked famous for pizza. We had to wait 1 hour 15 minutes just to get inside. Then another 45 at the table for the pizza. Going on a Saturday at 4:30 pm was perhaps not the ideal time. Here's Nilda happily waiting outside, not at all saying goddammit how did I let Brian drag me out here all for stupid pizza. You can even see the hipsters waiting in line in front of us. God damn you, hipsters.


The pizza was fantastic. It was thin, like they said it would be, but wasn't as insubstantial as I thought it might be. We had a half cheese, half pepperoni and it was a perfect combo. The sauce was the best part, tasted like actual tomatoes. It was a lot like John's, though John's had more sauce. Nilda says nothing is worth waiting two hours for. Keen observation, Nilda. Now I need to decide where I want to make Nilda go with me next. Patsy's?

Anyway, Nilda owes me because, as part of her nesting, I have agreed to move my large amplifier down in our storage bin. Goodbye, old friend. We'll meet again soon, when The Heller Theory makes it huge. Any day now. Frankly, I think the amp should stay and that Nilda is being unreasonable. What newborn wouldn't want a Fender 200 Bassman in their room? Instead, he's going to have to settle for a Hartke kickback. It's just wrong.

I'm already picking out potential bandmates for this kid. I'm looking at you, kid inside Julie T. They can start a Beatles cover band in high school, though Julie's kid will live in (gulp) New Jersey. Nilda says our kid has a very good chance of being cool. I said, "Nilda, come on. It's MY kid."

Here's Nilda looking ridiculously adorable at 21 weeks, which means we're over half way there. Only 19 weeks to go.

Speaking of ridiculously adorable, donde esta el umbligito?

Best Commercial Ever

Nothing says brilliant advertising like combining PBR and the Swayze in 1979. This is exactly what Nilda and I like when we go out dancing, except trade dancing for watching Breaking Bad:

Bo Ssam

I was going to write this last night, but when I got home, the toilet and bathtub had backed up and the base of the toilet had been flooding since three with no end in sight. We had to use a Shamwow that the super gave us to soak up the water and put it into a bucket, which we then had to constantly empty. The flooding didn't stop until 9:30, and then we had to clean up the black rust from pipes that had backed up into our tub and sink. Then the shower head broke off when I tried to move it to clean the tub and I swear to God, Nilda, I did NOT move it hard enough to break it. Oh, and the light bulb went out, too. Really, it was a great night. Nilda says thank god we had watched True Blood on Sunday night. Thank god, Nilda. Lesson = Shamwow is amazing and everybody should own one.

Anyway, the point is that we went to Momofuko Ssam Bar on Sunday night to celebrate Jeremy's birthday. I will always remember the first time I met Jeremy. Jeremy and I had just started law school in the same section and it was the first day of Magnetti's torts class. Magnetti asked what possible tort there could be for a cemetery losing a body and he was all impressed when Jeremy said "trespass to chattel." I remember Jeremy sitting there with this shit eating grin, like he had just been tapped to join an elite group of asshole law students. Then there was tax law in second year when we got the same exact grade, even though I went to class and studied and made an outline and Jeremy stayed in the apartment and never did the assignments and only read Gilbert's right before the exam. Fucking dick. He's been one of my closest friends ever since. Happy birthday, asshole.

There were eight of us on Sunday and we had ordered the Bo Ssam weeks in advance. It's a huge pork shoulder from Niman Ranch that is slow cooked for 36 hours and served whole, with lettuce, rice and sauces to make wraps. It was unbelievable and pulled apart with just tongs. Wrapped in lettuce, with the exact right proportion of rice and sauce, it went down easy and I kept making these little wraps. When you've had all you can, you realize just how giant the thing is. We went through both heads of lettuce and there was still a ton left over. Here's the damage.

Perhaps the best part of the night was that I was able to talk about the Eagles with Jeremy and his brother Greg for most of the night. God damn, they're looking good this year.

P.S. - Here's a website called animalsbeingdicks.com. It's exactly what it sounds like.

The Pizza Tour

Because I work with dorks, we have taken it upon ourselves to visit the most well known pizza places in NYC to see which is the best. Essentially, we go out for beers and pizza on work nights and have a good time. We discuss which place we should try next and agonize over what we'll order. It's almost like I have guy friends. I spend days getting excited. Still, I don't know if anything can beat the pizza from Riverboat Playhouse, the Chuck E Cheese rip off we used to go to as kids in Miami that had the best pizza ever. Here's where we've been so far:

1. Difara's: This was the first place we went to and it was a life changing experience for me, opening my eyes to how good and satisfying pizza can actually be. Anyone who has had it will understand the reverence it is due. It's run by Dom DeMarco, who has been making each pizza by hand with fresh basil cut with scissors since 1964 and has perfected the art. You may have to wait up to two hours to get a pie and it's worth it. Watch this movie to see how people romanticize this shit hole with only a few shoddy chairs and dirty tables that's been shut down by the health department a few times, and understand why. Recommendation: get the plain square pie, there's nothing like it in this world.

2. John's of Bleecker Street: John's is the classic New York pizza, and it's a classic for a reason. We went here second because of its reputation and because no one wanted to make the trek out to Brooklyn again. We saw "celebrities" there, by which I mean Andy Dwyer from Parks & Recreations, who I recognized, and Bethanny Frankel's assistant, who I don't know because I'm not totally queer. Recommendation: John's sausage pie is hard to beat, though no, it's not DiFara's square pie.

3. L&B Spumoni Gardens: this is essentially a neighborhood place deep in the heart of Brooklyn that's known for its Sicilian slice. It's different, in that a light layer of cheese goes directly onto the crust with the sauce on top, sprinkled generously with parmesan. It makes for an interesting bite, as the crust and the cheese blend together, making it both light and chewy. The dark horse is the amazing regular slice, which I might dare to say competes with it's more celebrated square if not for the Donnie Brasco wannabe goomba Brooklyn guys dressed like they came from gym class yet driving away in a BMW Z-series. What line of work are they in? Sanitation. You get to sit outside drinking a can of Corona eating too much pizza, all while keeping your mouth shut about the guys you're looking at. The 80s soundtrack is perfect. I never knew that Cindy Lauper and Pat Benatar went so well with pizza. The spumoni may be the best part, which is a cross between ice cream and gelato but like neither. Recommendation: the Sicilian because of its reputation, finish with spumoni.

Next up are a bunch of places I have never heard of. Slice, a pizza blog for nerds, had its take of the Best NYC Pizza for 2011, which is controversial for listing a brussels sprouts and pancetta pizza as #1, beating even Difara's round. Matt and the purists think it's an outrage. I think that sounds pretty good.

It's A Boy

We went for an elective 3D ultrasound yesterday and we got the great news that we're having a boy! That means there will be another Heller saying inappropriate things he'll regret later on and who will have to defend himself on the subway for bumping into people who are too incompetent to move into the car.

Here's the traditional 2D picture. You're looking at the kid's butt, the u-shape is the two legs. If you look closely right in the middle of the u, you can see an itty bitty tiny little pee pee sticking out there. Just like dad! Nilda asked, "Are those balls?"

I can't say we're surprised. A few weeks ago, Nilda took a home test called the Intelligender that purportedly shows if you're have a boy or girl based on urine. Ours came up ridiculously boy, and Nilda's been preparing for a boy every since. I think it's safe to say she might even be excited about it, though she's weirded out by the fact that there's a penis inside of her. Growing up, it was always Nilda and her mom with her dad, so this will be the first time she's outnumbered by boys. Thank God for that.

The discussion about names has gone into overdrive. "Chloe Sofia Heller," the most adorable name I can think of, is out. Harley pointed out that if the kid's name was Brian, Jr., everyone would call him "B.J." Within 8 hours of finding out the gender, Nilda had figured out the baby's room, from the wallpaper on the accent wall to the furniture.

We also got a 3D picture of the kid. He was hiding his face behind the placenta, so you can't get a look at his face, but at least he was showing us the money shot of his package, so we can't be too upset.

We've been wanting this for a while, but I'm still weirded out. I'm not weirded out that it's a boy, I'm weirded out that it's a kid, and that I'm responsible for it. It just seems like there should be an adult present.

P.S. - Nilda's very pregnant friend went to the Yankees game this weekend and had an O'Doul's with the label off, so that people wouldn't know it was non-alcoholic, saying, "I want people to judge me." Nilda, we are so doing that.

Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby

Nilda is about 14 weeks pregnant and I can finally talk openly about it. It's weird to talk about it since it still seems so tenuous and temporary. Here's some of what's been going on.

• The kid's due date is December 17, so his/her Christmas is pretty much fucked.
• Following the Jewish tradition of naming after those who passed (at least the tradition in my family), we are going to be giving the kid a name that begins with "C," after Nilda's dad, Carlos.
• "C" is a surprisingly difficult letter for a name. It's easier with a girl, but boy names are tough. "Carlos" will make the kid an enigma at Hebrew school, and I'll let you guess why "Christian" doesn't work.
• Yes, we want to know if it's a boy or a girl. I don't understand how people could wait. If you have the ability to know, why would you want to wait until you have to find out? It will be just as much of a surprise now as it will when the kid is here!
• We're convinced it's a boy.
• Nilda has been feeling well. It took a while for her to even feel pregnant, then she started feeling some nausea and her most significant complaint has been headaches. Then there's the mood swings. We were sitting on the sofa and Nilda says, "Oh no, I'm getting sad" and starts bawling for no reason. I know sweetheart, it's a very moving episode of Deadliest Catch.
• We finally have a use for the second bedroom. Nilda saw a t-shirt online that said, "Baby Finally On Board." It was quite appropriate.
• We should still be able to go out for New Years Eve, right? I mean the kid will be two weeks old by then. Yeah, that should be enough time.
• Stella is ridiculously excited, as are my parents.
• My mother cannot keep a secret. We went in for Memorial Day and told my whole family about it at a barbecue. My Uncle Alan says to me, "You know, I already knew Nilda was pregnant. When your parents came over earlier this week, I asked how you guys were. She said, 'Nilda...is...EXCELLENT.'" Good secret keeping, Mom!
• We're excited for you, Baby C. You're gonna love it here. Just don't get poop on the sofa or else Mommy will kill you. Trust me.

My Super Quinceanera

Nilda and I went to her cousin's Quinceanera on Friday night. Since my only prior contact with Quinceaneras had been on My Super Sweet Sixteen, this was an experience. Nilda, as usual, looked absolutely stunning. Here she is in all her pregger glory:

The girl comes out in a ballgown, along with five guys and five girls her age that form the court. I knew to expect this, and the tiara being carried by one of the girls made sense, but I had no clue what the shoes being carried on a pillow were for. Nilda said its so that her father can switch her from flats to heels, because she's a "woman" now. Then she has to sit in a large fan while they force her to watch a video about her childhood. It was a lot like a bat mitzvah.

Then there's a whole choreographed routine by the court. Or as I called it, "Dancing Faux Hawks." They were all really, really good! Even the one who was visibly counting 1-2-3 doing the waltz. During my years on the bar mitvah circuit, guys dancing would be running around and hitting each other. But these kids were moving like they knew what they were doing. I was thoroughly impressed. With Nilda as the mom, there's actually a chance my kid could dance. Imagine that, a Heller that can dance.

The best thing I heard all night was a version of Coldplay's "Clocks" by the Buena Vista Social Club. It's amazing. Give it a shot.

Nilda introduced me to Tio Tivo, Tio Manolo, Tio Roberto and Tio Pititi. Tio Pititi's real name is Orlando, though no one knows how he came to be Pititi. Tio Pititi is the dancing man! This guy was up all night, dancing with every girl in the place! Nilda asked me to dance when the group dancing began, with everyone watching. I will not be the white guy dancing the white guy dance. Go dance with Tio Pititi.

I took Spanish all through high school, got a 4 on the AP Spanish test, and took top level classes taught in Spanish in college, and I still can't understand a thing these people say. I stood up when DJ said to, but no on else did, until he said it in Spanish. Way to stand out, blanco. I've decided I'm going to become Cuban. Like Hemmingway. I'll wear a guyavera on formal occasions.

By the end of the night, I had enough drinks that I could actually try to dance. It wasn't pretty, but by that time everyone else had had enough drinks to not notice. Mauricio, the Dad, and I hugged each other twice before I left, and we'd never met before. I couldn't leave without a picture with Tio Pititi. He's my new hero.

I Went To Another Phish Show

It's time again for Andrew & Brian's Biannual Phish Show. Trey seemed a little hesitant in the first half and was turning every song into Chalkdust, but Page and Mike were on fire and the second set was the best Phish show I've ever seen. It was great, though stopping at the Roy Rodgers on the turnpike on the way home was, surprisingly, not a good idea. We are way too old to go to the second night, though. It's a school night.

I finally get Twitter. I only joined to follow Team Coco ("Green tea is so much better when it's black coffee." "Does anyone know how to get chocolate milk out of an ipad?"). But now I follow a few Phish accounts so I'm up to day on what's happening on the tour by the minute, because Nilda needs to know. One thing I've learned is that some people take Phish way too seriously. But now I can't stop thinking in Phish parlance. "How'd your deposition go?" "The first set was a little choppy, but the second set was smoking."

National Geographic has these photos of these idiots rock climbing in Yosemite and they are freaking me the fuck out. Who wants to stand on an 18-inch ledge 1,800 feet in the air without a rope? Don't these people have parents?

You may have seen this before, but check out this video of moron Dan Osman speed climbing. He first climbs the rock slowly, mapping out a path, then does it again at super fast speed, without a rope or any safety harness. My favorite comment to the video is, "I'm surprised he's not slowed down by his giant balls." He died in 1998 at the age of 35, after a rope broke during a "controlled free fall," whatever the hell that is. At least we have the youtube video to show our kids what they are never allowed to do.

Speaking of kids, I got this onesie at the Phish show for the one Nilda and I are expecting. We we we so excited.

Thank You, Pernil

Oh my god. Food. Food amazing. So good. How has it been allowed that I was denied pernil for so many years of my life? Oregano + salt + pork shoulder = you're welcome. It's Puerto Rican corned beef, and it cannot be beat. And it comes with crispy skin, so it's even better. Even Mark Bittman knows that every good Jewish boy needs a pernil. I now have to start making a pernil at least once a month. Ah, the benefits of marrying a Hispanic.

Speaking of fantastic, check out this parallel parking job. A few weeks ago, Nilda told me that the key is to make an "s" with the car. I have no idea what that means, but I somehow figured out parallel parking as a result.

P.S. - We have 12 interns starting tomorrow. God help us all.

Montreal

Last week was our 4-year anniversary, so Nilda and I took a trip to Montreal for a long weekend. We chose Montreal because we wanted to take a trip in the car, our first long road trip. We had a great time, and here are the highlights:

• The key to getting along on a long car trip is an amicable distribution of music. Although we both agreed that the "new music" I got specifically for the trip pretty much sucked.
• In my head, I understand that Montreal is French Canada and that they speak French. I still got confused every time I heard "Bonjour." Yet, somehow, watching Family Guy in French made sense.
• We thought it was weird when the waiter at dinner our first night there asked us if we wanted one check or two. When it happened every time we ate, we realized that Canadians are just weird.
• We had a great dinner at Garde Manager, which I only know about because it's the restaurant from "Chuck's Day Off" on the Cooking Channel. I knew it was going to be good when it started off with a huge spicy bloody mary with a crab leg sticking out of it. For dessert, a deep fried Mars bar with ice cream. (Note: Canadians call Milky Way a Mars bar. I don't get it either.)
• There's something about hotel tv that makes shows better. I now understand the appeal of Cash Cab.
• Montreal is a hip city with a larger neighbor (Toronto), that has a lot of history and an "old" section. It reminded me a lot of Philadelphia.
• Montreal is freakin' cold! We thought, it's May, how bad could it be? The answer is COLD!
• McGill University is located in Montreal and actually has a really nice campus. I say "actually" because it's located in Montreal and is freaking COLD!
• The key to a great trip is naps. My parents are on the other side of the world right now on vacation in China and I don't have the stamina for their schedule. I can't keep up with my parents, and they're AARP members.
• Being in Canada gave me a sudden and unexplained desire to name all of the Canadian ice hockey teams I know. The Quebec Nordics moved to Denver in 1995 and became the Colorado Avalanche, winning the Stanley Cup in their first season. These are the facts Nilda needs to know.
• We usually go to Spanish-speaking countries where Nilda can communicate with everyone. It was nice to see Nilda be in a country where she was dependent solely on her memory of her high school French class. For the first time, I saw Nilda's efforts to speak the local language fade like MC Hammer's haircut. I know, sweetheart, I know.
• We put 732 miles on the car, door to door. We started with a full tank and filled the car twice, with most of the third tank left over. These are the facts my dad needs to know.

Happy anniversary, Nilda, I had a great time and I love you. Here's to many, many more anniversaries. But next time there better be a beach involved.

PS - On a side note, damn, I feel good about Osama Bin Laden being dead. Obama gave the order for the SEALs to kill Bin Laden, then toured the tornado damage and gave a speech at the White House Correspondent's Dinner. That is bad ass.

Live Blogging The Vampire Diaries

It's 8:00 pm on Thursday, which means I'm not allowed to watch tv. Didn't I once have a blog or something? It was good during the apartment renovations, but it's really gone downhill since then...

• Matt & Mary came in for the weekend and the whole law school crowd got back together again. We played a fierce game of Monopoly where Nilda had to tell me to be nice and we had a big discussion over whether shaker furniture should be considered "art." It was just like old times. It's amazing how formative two years of living together in a mouse-infested shithole in the projects can be.
  
• Francesca is turning 8. How is that possible?? I remember rushing home on NJTransit to see her and how excited I was that we had a baby in the family. Now there are so many babies you have to watch where you walk and I'm going to a rolling skating party on Sunday.
• I like spring and, yes, I admit it, I like flowers. Take that, people at work making fun of me for going to the NY Botanical Gardens. The Japanese have a word ("Ohanami") for enjoying cherry blossoms. Flowers are aggressive extensions of the fight for survival that create colors and images seen no where else in nature. Plus, they're generally accompanied by warmer weather and the blooming of the boobies.
• I'm ok with not being a finalist for the cover of Madden 2012. Vick had a good year and he deserves it.
• I just read another book on Al Qaeda and it was awesome. I'll spare you the blog on it, but here's one: There was a suicide plot to bomb commercial airplanes in the mid-2000s where the bombers planned to bring highly concentrated hydrogen peroxide (the explosive device of choice) on a plane in soda bottles, then make a bomb using disposable cameras as a trigger and detonate it mid-flight. That's why you can't bring liquids onto planes.
• This may be old to a lot of you, but one of the funniest things I've seen on the internet in a while was Brian Williams on Morning Joe back in December. During a discussion of the biggest news stories of 2010, Williams' points to the NY Time's "discovery" of Brooklyn. Check it out.

• 
  

• Andrew made fun of me in the car ride home from the second seder, telling me that my playlist had "all the hits of 1998." That pissed me off, mostly because he's right. I came up with a playlist long ago and have basically just been adding to it ever since. Good songs don't become bad just because time passes. Give "My Humps" the respect it's due.
• I an now making a concerted effort to listen to new music. Here's what I'm going to try to listen to: Megafaun, "Heretofore;" LCD, "This Is Happening;" and Tame Impala, "InnerSpeaker." You can practically see the beards and plaid shirts in the names.
• I'm looking forward to getting bored and going back to listening exclusively to Phish. I just downloaded a '99 show. I know, I'm expanding.
• Speaking of new music, someone please get this song out of my head (Andrew, check out how he uses the delay):

The Honey Badger

Andrew's narrating a National Geographic video! We're all very proud.

Glasses

I don't trust my eye doctor. Ever since I had the Lasik done in 2006, I knew my prescription wasn't as strong as it should be and it's been a constant reason for my bitching. Ask Nilda. In November, he tells me that my vision is fine, only -.25 and-.50, and I know he's full of shit. I go to the expert 24-year-old eye doctor at the exclusive Cohen's Fashion Optical who tells me that I am -1.0 in both eyes. Finally, someone who understands.

I have the glasses and now I'm afraid I won't be able to stop wearing them. I didn't realize how bad my eyes were, or how much I was missing. I never felt like the tv we bought in 2008 was as crystal clear as it should be. Now, I think it's amazing. Blu-ray means something. But God do I still hate the fucking glasses. At least I don't need to wear them all the time.

Buying glasses again was a throw back. I couldn't believe how many brands of eyeglasses they had. Even Randy Jackson of American Idol has a line, which is ridiculous. I picked out a frame that says "Zyloware" on the left temple and I'm good to go. Only when I pick them up the next day do I look at the right temple, which says, "Randy Jackson." I now bear the shame of having Randy Jackson glasses.

WHAT UP, DAWG??

Twin Conversation

I have not been able to escape the youtube video of the two twin 17-month-old boys having a "conversation." If you have been so lucky, your time is up.

Being someone who has had those exact conversations, I can tell you that this is probably what they are saying to each other:

• “Idiot.”
• "Loser.”
• “God, I hate you.”
• “You are a disgrace to the entire family.”
• “I sharted in the womb and you came out.”
• “Your very existence makes Mom cry.”
• “Dad pretends that you’re me, so that he can forget you exist.”
• “I saw your little wee-wee in the womb and we are DEFINITELY not identical. No wonder you feel such same.”
• “Stop staring at my wee-wee, fag.”
• “Looking like you is like looking in a mirror that’s facing my ass hole.”
• “The family took a vote and decided that you should be left outside to die.”
• “You know what, it doesn’t matter what you say, because you were adopted. There, I said it.”
• “I’m going to stab you with a sippy cup.”
• “I can’t believe I shared a womb with you. I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
• “Do you want to go pee on the carpet?”
• “Totally.”
  

The Drunkard's Progress

This is an illustration from 1846 in support of the temperance movement. As you can see, it accurately portrays the stages of drinking:

Step 1. A glass with a Friend.

Step 2. A glass to keep the cold out.

Step 3. A glass too much.

Step 4. Drunk and riotous.

Step 5. The summit attained. Jolly companions. A confirmed drunkard.

Step 6. Poverty and disease.

Step 7. Forsaken by Friends.

Step 8. Desperation and crime.

Step 9. Death by suicide.

I figure I'm approaching Step 4, but I'm working my way up. I'll get there someday.