Bohemia Bagel

I already knew all good things come from Poland. That's a given. Pierogi, Chopin, my people...and bagels!

Well, kinda-sorta for that last one: Slate - A short history of the bagel

What I love, though, is that when I lived in Prague, a short train ride from Poland's amorphous borders, bagels were nowhere to be found in the charming Czech bakeries or sidewalk cafes. My fellow students (in the NYU program) were jonesing for their New York bagels...the rolls were like the red velvet cupcakes for the residents our dorm in Vinohrady - coveted and rarefied by hipsters each convinced there was only one game back home that could really provide the ultimate fix.

There was indeed one bagel purveyor in Praha, a locally-owned chain called Bohemia Bagel. They provided their bagels to another place called Cafe Ebel, so once you knew where to get them, you never had to suffer bagel deficiency. I frequented those establishments easily 4 or 5 times a week. They were open late, served breakfast ALL DAY, and had amazing soups and hummus. Ebel had phenomenal lattes that I still dream about, and not even 1369 in Cambridge can compare.

Kinda funny that bagels may have traveled all the way to the States only to turn around and head back to Eastern Europe, with a slight detour. Dangit I'm hungry.

I don't speak that accent

I have found my abs. Not through yoga, or pilates, or by spotting them on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge. Instead I know where they are because they hurt.

For our 3.5 year anniversary I got the Boyfriend and myself tickets to see Robin Williams, live at the Orpheum. Nothing (not even the obnoxious guffawer behind us - I know, I know, at a comedy show! But this dude was seriously ON something! Or the parents in front of us who brought their TEN YEAR OLD SONS to see one the most creatively foul-mouthed comedians out there) could put a damper on the night.

The show was spectacular. I did not stop laughing once, and Mr. Boyfriend loved it too. The audio technicians cranked up Robin's microphone so he could be heard over the crowds, so nary a word was lost to the guffaws of Woody Woodpecker behind us.

Topics covered included: GPS systems, alcoholism, children, Disney, China, Nazis, drugs (all of them), depression, dogs, sex, the French, Nascar, cloning, cell phones, football, African Olympic runners, cats, Obama, the Irish, doctors, Mr. Williams' hirsuteness, divorce, paraplegics, pole dancers, Scots, baseball, phone ladders outsourced to India, inbreeding, Mormons, Canadians, the South, women's gymnastics, the human body, coffee, Seattle, earthquakes, and Christopher Walken in adult films.

In summation: Holy God that was amazing.

The weather outside is frightful...

The fire inside? Not so delightful.

Ok, it was delightful for about 20 minutes. We finally got our fireplace inspected this month, but November decided to be freakishly warm and deny us any chance to light a fire. Last week's eyeball-freezing temperatures gave us our first chance. There was plenty of dry firewood left by the last owners (thanks, strangers!) and I scavenged some kindling from our wooded property (re: made boyfriend drag a branch from the lawn into the apartment).

Mr. Boyfriend poked around in the hearth for a while, Boyscout/Man vs. Wild/No-let-me-I'm-male style, while I circled offering helpful encouragement ("Where's the corkscrew? I can't find the corkscrew. It was right here, where did you put the corkscrew? Don't worry I found the corkscrew. Where's the red?"). In a few short minutes, thanks to the combined efforts of pyromania and oenophilia, while we had a crackling fire. There was a small hiccup -
Me: Don't break the flue.
Him: I think I broke the flue.
But we persevered and together basked in the warm glow. We sipped the 2006 Fleur Petite Sirah (4.5 out of 5 for taste and value!), gazing into each others eyes and sighing in domestic delight.

Then we started coughing.

Smoke wasn't exactly billowing into the room, but things were definitely getting hazy. The reason? Science. I'll bring Bill Nye in to explain.

Me: Hi Bill Nye!
BN: Hey, Kate. Thanks for the pie. So, why does the fireplace smoke? Could be any of a number of reasons - but your recent cleaning and inspection thankfully eliminate a number of those possibilities, like creosote build up, or physical obstructions or flaws.
Me: So what could it be?
BN: Well, it could be the high winds. Or recent insulation updates may have upset the pressure balance for which the chimney was originally intended. Or even just the cold weather could be to blame! Fixing your (now) broken flue, or reducing the size of the opening to adjust the air volume and flow are likely solutions. Look at this nifty experiment to demonstrate what I mean!
Me: Wow! I understand PERFECTLY from your highly visual demonstration to explain this scientific principle I could not otherwise convey myself through this blogging medium!
BN: Thanks, Kate. By the way, you're looking lovely today.
Me: Bill, what we had is past. It can never work.

So that's what happened. Sorry to get all science-y on you. We gave up on the fire and made dinner and watched "The Painted Veil," which was beautiful and sad and presents an interesting if somewhat flat take on British colonialism and China. For dinner we roasted a leg of lamb, sauteed some broccoli rabe, and had it over quinoa. And I made an apple pie. But Bill Nye ate most of it.

*k2tog, k2, yo, k1, yo, k2, sl1, k1, psso; rep from *

I can finish a hat before Sunday's baby shower, right? Alas, it will definitely be too big for a newborn infant but it's too late I have DVRed plenty of House - the ultimate knitting show because the dialogue is snappy (but not schmaltzy! *ahem* CSI) so the listening is good, and the episodes are generally formulaic enough that I know when to tune in or zone out. Hopefully I can finish it tonight and block it Friday or Saturday.

It was also a great excuse not to cook last night - I needed the time to devote to the hat. Instead we ordered calzones from Pizza 21 for probably the 6th or 7th time since we've moved. Mr. Boyfriend is sick, so it was a break for both of us.

Plus, we've been having a running argument about our cooking - I change it up, reading cookbooks, trying different recipes, and branching out with new ingredients. He just makes whatever's in the fridge/pantry - namely pasta with vegetables xyz and a jar of sauce. I know there are merits to both styles, but I feel like my efforts to serve dishes, when compared to what I've deemed his Kitchen-Sink-Method, go unappreciated.

Still, he cooks - period. So I shouldn't complain.

The more you know

Fun Facts!

1. Sometimes I email myself. And by sometimes I mean almost every day!
   Limitless storage on gmail allows me to send myself reminders and memos - So...my email is full of things like "Me(8) Make quiche tonight/Don't forget to buy more Dryel!" I'm sure there's some sort of schmancy technology by some fruit-named tech giant that would allow me to keep track of these personal notes more efficiently but this seems to work fine!
   
2. I can make a single serving of pretzel sticks last two hours. At work! Because I'm trying to distract myself! But if I'm not careful I'll have one hanging out the side of my mouth like a cigarette and I'll look really stupid when my coworkers walk by my cube!
3. I can never remember if I've unplugged or turned off an appliance so I have to say "I'm unplugging this, idiot" outloud as an auditory cue to help me remember so I don't spend $25 on a taxi to dash home from work to check if I've turned off my flat iron!
4. I have lattice degeneration in both retinas as my optometrist so kindly told me last night. BUT I didn't faint from bad news at the doctor like I usually would because of my medical phobias and (BONUS FACT) proclivity to episodes of vasovagal syncope!
   
5. I miss college. I'm dying for intellectual stimulation but I don't want the homework! Shh! Don't tell anyone!
   

And they're off

Another Monday, another fiscal review...Let's see.

• Flights from Boston to Prague for 2: ~$1000
• Hostels/hotels for 8-9 nights (figure half and half?): $500-1000
• Food for 2 for 7-8 days (~30 per person per day): ~$400-500
• Museums/Concerts/Sightseeing/Souvenirs: ~$200

Totaling as much as $2700? Let's round it up to $3000. For two? Does that even seem right? And this isn't factoring a trip to another city. Probably... Vienna? Paris? But if we fly direct from Boston into our city of choice that would be cool...KLM flies direct to Amsterdam, I believe, and AirFrance to Paris, and BritishAir to London...

My diet of 24/7 ramen begins...now.

I also need to consider that in May or June I want to visit my sister in Rome where she'll do a mini semester at the Vatican studying canon law (a Catholic lawyer...ah the opportunities). Hopefully that can be filed under Family Vacay and my expenses should be minor.

Gooo Sabres!

Oh man.

Have you ever been so excited you wanted to tell EVERYONE about how excited you are but everyone hates hockey? Yeah.

That's what it's like being super excited for the Sabres/Bruins game tomorrow but everyone hates hockey.

Bah. I don't care. At the Garden. In the nosebleeds. With beer. AND POPCORN. It will be awesome. I hope the Sabres destroy Boston, but I'll be happy with an overtime win too.

Change

Yes we can.

I am PERFECTLY CALM

Eesh.

The economy, and by that I mean my bank accounts, are failing.
The election is stressing me out.
It's not quite 5pm and FREAKIN DARK OUTSIDE
All my evenings this week will be spent alone.

Solution? Distraction! Here's a cute article that has nothing to do with current events.
What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage

And countdown 5 days to Sabres/Bruins game. Let's go Buffalo...