My Happy Time of the Year is Here!

Oh, thank the Seven that September is finally here!

I thought it might never come, what with how blastedly hot and humid it's been around these parts for the past 3 months. This has been a hotter than normal summer for the New York City area, and oh how I've suffered because of it. I hate the heat! Yeah, I'm sure I mentioned it before more than a few times on this blog. But it bears repeating.

Well now that summer is unofficially over thanks to the passing of Labor Day yesterday, that can only mean one thing: MY BIRTHDAY IS NEAR!!!

Yup, it'll be upon me in a few days, and I'll be turning 42. It's the meaning of life, the universe, and everything, oh didn't you know? That number is. So how can I possibly be nothing but thrilled about being 42? Truth be told, I have no hang ups over growing older. I'm happy, successful, and living comfortably. More importantly, I'm still in excellent health!

So basically this means I get to enjoy the day for what it is: a celebration of my life on this planet for the past 42 years. As an eternal optimist, this is the only way I can view the occasion.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have more to say after the actual day has come and gone. Stay tuned!

In the meanwhile, this past weekend I traveled upstate to visit my sister living in Hudson, New York. I got up early in the morning and rushed to Grand Central Terminal to catch the first Amtrak train smoking and heading north. The main waiting area, pictured above, was very quiet and subdued for being just before the start of rush hour. I had about an hour to wait for my train, so in the meantime I had breakfast at a nearby indoor diner, browsed a newsstand next, and then finally had some time to snap photos with the camera gear I had brought with me.

See, I was going to visit my sister and to see her baby girl -- my first ever niece! -- who has just turned 6 months old. I had seen her shortly after she was born, of course, but now she would be wide awake, sitting up, and even playing with toys. So I knew I just had to bring my camera for the occasion. I won't post any of her pics here, but suffice to say that my niece is quite the cutie! OMG, she is so beautiful and very adorably chubby! I couldn't be any happier for my sis, and she's being such a great mom. Our mother would be so proud of her if she were alive today.

It was great seeing my family, including my auntie and her husband, again. We all had dinner at a nearby restaurant in town, and it was great to have that connection.

Eventually, though, I headed back to the city. While sitting in the dining car having a coffee by the big windows of the train, I saw so much beauty upon the waters of the Hudson river that I had to pull my camera out and snap off a few shots. Because the train was speeding like a bat out of hell, however, I had to adjust the shutter speed on my cam to a fast enough rate so as to minimize the blur:

Considering that I shot this through a dirty, smudgy window ... I think it came out pretty decent. I love sunset light! It makes every landscape photo look so surreal and gorgeous!

So, now that summer is drawing to an end in an official capacity soon -- what are you looking forward to the most about the coming Fall season?

Me, it's jacket weather. I love jacket weather! I know it may sound silly, but I've always felt most comfortable going out in the world in a jacket or hoodie with big pockets. That's the key, see: pockets! I need to have pockets on me when I go out, and jeans or trousers alone just don't cut it. I have like a billion things to carry, and I detest schlepping along a backpack or satchel to carry them in with a fiery, hot passion. So more pockets help, yes.

Am I the only one who loves jacket weather for this reason?

Panama Trip - Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime. A trip to Panama's steamy tropical province, Bocas del Toro.

Now, before this year I had never heard of Bocas -- as it's so lovingly referred to by travelers to this jungle paradise -- but I was searching for someplace exotic to take myself that year, and frankly I had plenty of options. A cultural exploration of the mountainous region of Romania's back country? I really wanted to do that. Or how about a photography tour of Western Ireland? Oh man, oh man!

But then I came across this guy's account in Condé Nast Traveler of his 2012 solo trip to Bocas del Toro in Panama, and suddenly I knew that this was the place I just had to go to. It spoke to me on so many levels!

This is my account of that 7-day adventure.

DAY 1: Here There Be Balboas!

I was so excited the night before I was to fly out to Panama. I checked and double checked everything, went through my suitcase to make sure everything was still there, and most importantly I made sure that my camera equipment was safely stored within my carry-on bag. This was going to be a big trip for me, and a perfect opportunity for which to practice my newfound hobby.

So with that in mind, fair warning: From here on out -- all pic are mine!

The flight from New York City to Panama City (there are no direct bookings to the capital of Bocas) is straight forward and painless -- that is, if you book with the country's premier carrier for International flights, Copa Airlines. It's a 5 hour direct flight between the two cities, and I had made arrangements to spend a day and a night in the country's capital before boarding a local flight to the province of Bocas del Toro, my ultimate destination.

Luckily the country has a 1:1 monetary exchange with the United States, what with its deep historic and economic ties to the U.S.A. and all. So this means the US Dollar and the Panamanian Balboa hold identical value there, and in fact the USD is accepted as legal tender throughout the country. So, there was no need for me stop by the Currency Exchange bureau on my way to the taxi stand outside of the airport. I simply grabbed my bags and hailed the first cab that pulled up to the curb.

And I was off to my first destination just like that! Which, in this case, happened to be the historic "Old Town" of Panama City known as Casco Viejo -- aka, Casco Antiguo. You'll find both names used for the district, although the latter seems to be used more by locals. All the cabbies know how to get there, however, as it's practically tourist central.

My cabbie spoke almost no English, and I speak only a little Spanish. But between the two of us we managed to cobble together a weird Spanglish shorthand for conversation during the 45 mins ride. He enjoyed very much that I was wearing my NY Yankees baseball cap, since after all baseball is the No. 1 national sport here, and the legendary Yankees closer, Mariano Rivera, is their native hero. No, seriously, this country is quite obsessed with their local boy turned sports legend. Mariano could probably run for president there and win handily.

Anyway, the drive through Panama City that early afternoon was quite a sight. The poor areas are extremely poor and rundown. It pretty much looks like the back towns of Mexico. But the more well-to-do districts where most of the corporations have their offices and the big chain hotels cater exclusively to tourists -- you would not be out of place thinking that you were driving through downtown Miami!

Tourists using downtown Panama City as their selfie backdrop.

This city definitely has a southern FL vibe going on if you stick mainly to the affluent areas. So, yes, the differential between rich and poor in this town is HUGE to say the least. It's quite disconcerting to the outside visitor, this stark contrast.

Panama Trip - Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really)

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the link below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!


And now for the continuation . . .

DAY 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).

After taking another leisurely stroll around the Old Town in Panama City where I was staying, it was time to pack up my things from the day before and commence the second leg of my trip; to fly west northwest into the tropical jungles of Bocas del Toro!

Flea market abutting the sea wall in Casco Viejo.

I bid farewell to the hotel staff and Ubered my way over to the local airport for domestic flights (Albrook) -- which is separate from the international airport (Tocumen), and located almost on the opposite side of the city. For some reason, my cabbie didn't even know where this airport was, and so it took a little longer (and a few frantic exchanges in broken Spanglish) than it should have to reach the place.

But once there, I was greeted with one of the smallest airports I've ever been to. Not as puny as the landing strip on North Eleuthera island in the Bahamas when I stayed there a few years back -- but still pretty tiny. And laid back! There was hardly any security, and people were just walking in and out of the terminal from the street with no luggage or anything. There wasn't even a terminal, to be honest. Just a waiting room and an announcement over the PA system alerting you (in Spanish) when a plane was arriving on the tarmac. Basically, it felt more like a train station than an airport.

When the plane that would take me to Bocas did arrive, though, I noticed a ton of American and European tourists were suddenly joining me. It seemed like they came out of nowhere! This reveal actually helped to put me at ease, because in that moment I knew for sure that I was on the right flight. I don't think white people travel from Panama City to anywhere else in the country *except* to Bocas del Toro. I may be wrong, but probably not.

As you would expect, the plane was one of those small commuter type deals and we were all crammed tight in there. Luckily, the flight from Panama City to Bocas Town is just under one hour long, so it was hardly that big of an ordeal. And anyway, I just couldn't wait to get there!

Unfortunately, I had no idea of what would be in store for me once I reached this tropical province. A near catastrophe totally of my own making, but which almost ended up ruining my trip before it really even got started!

I'll get to that soon enough.

Panama Trip - Day 3: Making the Best of Things

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the links below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!
Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).


And now for the continuation . . .


DAY 3: Making the Best of Things.

Despite the rather crummy circumstances of losing my bag the previous afternoon, I woke up to a much better mood on the day I was set to depart Isla Colón and head across the bay to Isla Bastimentos. But since I wasn't getting picked up until late afternoon, I decided while the morning was still young to do as much as I could on this, the much more populous, island in the Bocas del Toro archipelago.

I had heard about a beach way out toward the northernmost point of the island called Boca del Drago. And in particular, a very nice stretch called "Starfish Beach," a 15 minute walk away from Drago. I planned to find my way there and just hike the shore with my camera in tow.

I ran into the owner of the hotel who inquired into how I was feeling. I mentioned that, despite being out $800 hard cash, I was strangely much more relieved that I had been returned my expensive electronics (chiefly my new iPad, which was thankfully fingerprint locked) and travel documents. And, to be sure, I was also happy that not all of the cash had been discovered. At least they hadn't taken the $400 as well!

I mean, hey, that's just the kind of person I am. Always looking for the brighter side of things. The important thing was that I had recovered the bag, and that everything *except* for some cash had been returned. The owner agreed and mentioned that it was "just money," -- a casual flippancy I couldn't exactly duplicate, I must confess -- and recommended that I have some breakfast at her restaurant while the receptionist (a different lady from the day before, but equally nice) tracked down their favorite personal driver to take me to the other side of the island. It was a 30 min drive there, and the public bus in town could take me for $5 if I so desired -- but a private cab would be far more comfortable and leisurely, and I could also take better photos along the way. It was only going to cost me $25, so I said: hell, why not? Don't have to sell me twice!

So after a perfectly normal American-style breakfast and coffee, the driver Rolando showed up and we were off to the beach!

Panama Trip - Day 4: .... We Have Fun and Games

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the links below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!
Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).
Day 3: Making the Best of Things.


And now for the continuation.


DAY 4: ....We Have Fun and Games.

I'm awaken by the sound of something large growling in the dense jungle beyond my open-air cabin. It's one of the howler monkeys whom I've yet to see, but who I can hear perfectly fine moving through the dark trees surrounding me. I imagine there's a family of them in there, watching me, plotting. During the early pre-dawn hours I think one of them jumped on my roof, scurried across it, then jumped back into the trees on the other side. Probably the same one who just woke me from a fitfully earned sleep; or maybe his sister or an uncle. Great fun .... for them.

Me? Maybe not so much. Truth be told, my first night at La Loma Jungle Lodge and Chocolate Farm was a frightful one for a kid from the inner city. I, of course, am accustomed to sleeping through such fracases as late night fights and shouting matches in my neighborhood of the South Bronx where I live: the rummaging of garbage cans below my windows, the odd gunshot ringing out from the rooftop across the street at 3am, or through a cacophony of honking horns and sirens flying by the nearby intersection just before midnight. I sleep through all that like a boss!

So what could possibly have kept me awake for most of the night in a nice little hideaway jungle oasis deep inside Panama's tropical rainforest province?

Bugs. Lots and lots of BUGS!

Thankfully, much in part due to the reams of thick mosquito netting cocooning my bed, no bugs actually crawling on me. No. But, rather, what felt like every insect under creation was out there flitting by in the night, bumping into my nets and trying to get at the sweaty, hot, stinky human full of delicious hemoglobin who they could sense lying there just beyond their tiny grubby grasps. A whole heap of 'em rubbing legs and wingtips together, chirping, clacking, or otherwise producing an alien-like chorus of sounds that took a long time to get accustomed to for someone who, yes, may have hailed from a jungle of the urban variety -- but not the jungle; ancient, primordial, green and alive. I mean, the night air was thick with these suckers inhabiting this very real jungle around me. And boy, they were LOUD!!!

Partial daytime view of my bed with much welcomed netting!

Added to this was the reality that nighttime temps in Bocas del Toro in June seem to bottom out at a not-so-bottom 88-degrees F. And the humidity is easily north of 90%!!! So when they say "you're in the thick of it" here in Bocas, they really mean it.

Then there's this other fun tidbit of wholesome knowledge: Because the lodge I was staying at prides itself on being off the grid (mostly) and eco-friendly, there are no ACs in this place. Which is perfectly fine and understandable, as the cabins only have one wall and are otherwise largely open to the elements, but what this means is that the only thing you have to combat the oppressive jungle heat with is a high speed fan above your bed. And perhaps a silent prayer to the rain gods to send a fast moving low-pressure system in to scrub the atmosphere away -- albeit temporarily. It always returns, though, the humidity. And your choice is to either: 1) Accept it; or 2) Take a cold shower .... and accept it.

I ended up doing the latter quite frequently during my stay.

Panama Trip - Day 5: Making Friends and Fighting Dragons

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the links below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!
Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).
Day 3: Making the Best of Things.
Day 4: We Have Fun and Games.


And now for the continuation ...


DAY 5: Making Friends and Fighting Dragons.

I awoke on this morning to more muffins and coffee delivered to me by some unknown porter of miracles just as the sun was beginning to rise. It had rained for most of the night in drenching, heavy sheets of water sluicing off the roof of my cabin and curtaining down the sides. At times I was awaken by such tremendous lighting and thunder that I thought the entire hillside was shaking. And then I fell soundly back to sleep when the rest of the storm went on its way to parts unknown. Apparently my body had become quite accustomed to the peculiarities of the rainforest, as unlike the night before I was barely fazed by it all. And once the storm left, it ushered in a refreshing, almost mountainous, cool breeze onto the farm that dispelled all that wretched heat and humidity. At least for a few hours.

As I carefully descended from the hilltop on this fine morning, I stopped a few times at strategically placed landings along the way to admire the actual crops being grown on the downward slopes.

Plantains, potatoes, tomatoes ... and a few other "'oes" (such as mangoes -- yum!!!) I spied as I gently arrived on flat ground near the main lodge of La Loma Jungle Lodge and Chocolate Farm. I had yet to see the actual cacao crops, but was assured by one of the friendly farmhands that it was being grown at a lower elevation in another section just behind the big house. What a wonderful place of untold splendors to explore!

I had a delicioso breakfast with my fellow travelers at the large communal table in the main lodge, and we all seemed eager for more adventures of the day. After so much fun snorkeling and beach combing the day before, the consensus ruled this day to ... do more beach combing! Hey, why not? I mean, when in Rome right? One of the older couples staying at the lodge that week opted out of having more fun in the sun, however. They had taken quite a beating on the previous trip, and really just wanted to laze about on the farm doing -- well, you know: not much of anything at all. Hey, I can appreciate that! And I would have joined them in fact, had I been on this vacation with someone else along. As it was just me, I didn't see much value in staying cooped up alone in my cabin on a sunny day.

And so, off to the yet another fantastic beach we sailed!

Panama Trip - Day 6: To the Bat Cave!

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the links below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!
Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).
Day 3: Making the Best of Things.
Day 4: We Have Fun and Games.
Day 5: Making Friends and Fighting Dragons.


And now for the continuation ...


DAY 6: To the Bat Cave!


By now I had mastered all there was to master about jungle living.

Okay, let me cut the crap. I wasn't truly "roughing it" out here. Not really. Aside from the atrocious heat and humidity (high 90s for both) that made all my clothing remain forever damp no matter how long I left them out to "dry" ... the most disturbing thing I had to deal with were the monkeys in the trees watching me and occasionally jumping onto my cabin and, well, monkeying around. Hey, at least now I truly understood where that expression came from in the deepest, most profound way.

All that aside, I actually did have a great daily game plan going by now. Wake up around 6:15 in the morning; retrieve the enclosed tray of muffins and coffee left on the stoop outside my door; read a book on the making of the film The Princess Bride (one of my favorites!) as I ate this small *snack*; take a much needed and refreshing cold shower in the outdoor stall attached to my room; pack up my day bag for whatever adventure awaited me; apply SPF 50 sunscreen (I wasn't all that far from the equator, after all); lather on the max strength bug juice; and then finally, around 8am, make way down the many flights of steps to the main cabin for breakfast with the other guests. It was a nice routine.

Where everyone gathers to eat and hang out -- sometimes literally!

And this day was going to have something special in store for those of us willing to take on the challenge. We were going to boat and hike our way deep into the Panamanian rainforest to reach the Nivida bat cave for some underground climbing and exploration. Ho-lee shit!

So those of us going -- which was just myself and a nice family from Prescott -- piled into the boat, and off we went again. We left La Loma behind for the day, but provisioned with the same packed lunch of gourmet goodness as per usual. I was getting too used to this kind of pampering!

Panama Trip - Day 7: It's Closing Time

Earlier this year I embarked on a trip of a lifetime to Central America. Specifically, I visited Panama's steamy rainforest province of Bocas del Toro, a place I had never heard of before, but of which I had read many encouraging accounts.

But first, if you wish to read up on what has transpired before, click on the links below:


Day 1: Here There Be Balboas!
Day 2: Honor Among Thieves. Sorta (But No, Not Really).
Day 3: Making the Best of Things.
Day 4: We Have Fun and Games.
Day 5: Making Friends and Fighting Dragons.
Day 6: To the Bat Cave!


And now for the continuation ...


DAY 7: It's Closing Time.

I had been in Bocas del Toro for almost a week now, and yet not one of these days had been a washout.

Until today, the day I had to leave.

The morning actually started out pretty and sunny. Because it was our last day at the lodge, and because we would have to leave in the early afternoon, our hosts suggested that we all participate in a tour of the actual farm we were staying on. In particular, to finding out more about the chocolate making process.

Hey, you don't have to twist my arm where chocolate is involved!

Dragonfly watching us with about a hundred eyes!

Of course, somewhere in the middle of the tour when we were deep afield where the cacao was being grown, dark clouds rolled in and the skies opened up. A trickle at first, and then the veritable deluge. A non-stop, hard pounding rain that would let up only later in the day when we reached the airport back in Bocas Town.

So those of us on the tour agreed to continue on with it. We were already packed, after all; our bags wrapped in protective plastic and lined up at the dock waiting to go. And we all had our ponchos with us, too, just for the inevitability of rain that had been forecast for the day. So, once again I found myself repeating the mantra: When in Rome, eh? Except in this case Rome was a rainforest, and tropical downpours came with the territory.

Happy July!

Ugh!

So here we are, in the thick of summer. My least favorite season. And as a new month begins, as if to really hammer the point home, we've had one of the hottest days here in New York that we've had in quite some time. It reached 100 degrees today. Arrghhh!! I'm so mad. That is just not civilized weather for this part of the world. And this was actually the 3rd day of 90-degree+ temps here, with two more still to go. It's official: we're in a heat wave!

Yay.

Still, I'm trying not to let it get me too down. Luckily our Independence Day is this Wednesday, so that's nice. The holiday will help break up the week, plus I'm taking an additional two days off after to give myself a really long weekend. That helps improve my mood greatly. Although, it will still be ass-crack hot in this city during those days, but at least I can go to a movie or something. Someplace indoors with copious amounts of AC.

Anyway, how are you all doing? Pleas let me know. I hope you're off enjoying holidays of your own, wherever you are.

I'm going to try to use this month to do more writing on my spare time. And, sure, I'll get in a little photography here and there. I'm debating whether I should splurge to upgrade to a new camera. It's going to cost me over $800, and I'm just procrastinating over pulling the trigger on such an expensive purchase. I mean, I already have a camera, right? I've been using it pretty heavily for the past 3 years, but alas I just feel I've maxed out its limitations. It's really meant for an amateur, and I feel that my skills have taken me beyond that level by now. I guess I have a few weeks with which to make a decision. Dilemma, dilemma.

Speaking of which, I took this photo of myself in my apartment just to test out a few new editing techniques. Pardon the flexing, I'm not great at posing myself and I didn't really know what to do with my hands. Also, I had just finished watching the new season of Luke Cage on Netflix, so was feeling a little "extra" with myself, LOL!

Stay tuned this week as I'm working on a long travel piece about my trip to the rainforest of Panama. It will basically be a day-by-day account of all the fun I had and adventures I went on while vacationing alone in the province of Bocas del Toro. There will be plenty of pics!

So anyway, that's going to be coming here to this space soon. But in the meantime -- I hope you're all having a great summer so far!

Awkwaaaard!

So, I went to the movies the day after New Year's. Here's what happened at the concession stand:

Cutie Cashier: "Here's your change. Enjoy the movie!"
Me: "Thanks, you too."
CC: *laughs at me*
Me: *laughs at me, too*
Me: "I mean ... heh ... You have a good day, too. I mean, er ... Happy New Year?"

*smacks forehead*

Don't you hate it when that happens? Funny thing is, I wasn't even flummoxed or anything. I didn't stammer because the cashier happened to be extremely hot. To be honest, with the mood I've been in as of late, I barely even acknowledged her hotness. I just get so accustomed to blanket responding with "Thanks, you too" to every non-personal human interaction I have out in public. It's a bad habit I need to break.

On the plus side, cashier girl did say I was cute. That kinda, sorta made my day. And this time, I did *not* say "Thanks, you too" by way of response. Although--damn it! I totally should have, right?

Well, let no one confuse me for being suave.

Anyway . . .

HAPPY 2016, people!!! I hope you have a good one!

As usual, my New Year's Eve sucked big time. I spent it at home all by my lonesome. It's always a sad time for me since it is the 30th anniversary of the single most tragic event to happen in my life, and that means the holiday will never be the same for me as it is for everyone else.

But, you know, some day this decade I would like to spend it with someone special. That's all.

In related news ... yes, my love life sucks. I've been dealt a severe blow in that department this holiday season (why do all such bad things happen then?), and it's forcing me to reevaluate my priorities. Or, more specifically, to reevaluate ME!

What have I come up with so far? Well, not much really. But I'm starting to get the feeling that I might need a change in scenery.

I'm not there yet, but I'm currently contemplating whether I should look into picking up and moving to another part of the country. I recently visited my brother in Houston, and I have to say it's left me with a lot to think about. I never thought the day would ever come that I would seriously consider Texas as a place to live, but H-Town left a good impression on me. I mean, sure, I seriously cannot deal with hot weather and humidity -- but isn't that what AC was invented for? Like I said, I'm not quite packing up the moving truck and putting in notice at work just yet. But who knows . . .

Met a long time online blogger friend while in H-Town.

Or, I could just move to Vermont like I always wanted to. That would be nice. A state more in keeping with my seasonal climate needs. I'm very comfortable in that state, being that I lived there for 4 years during college. But unlike Houston, I have absolutely no family there in VT. Or friends, for that matter.

So, I'm not sure yet where I should go. But I do know that I might have to leave New York someday soon. More and more my ties here are weakening.

But enough of that (for now).

I'll leave you all on this one happy note. My photography seems to be getting better and better with the more practice I commit to the hobby. Just recently this particular photo has been garnering a lot of praise and attention in online circles:

I shot this back in mid-October whilst practicing my nighttime photography skills (again) in the Brooklyn Heights section of the city (again). This is the Manhattan Bridge, and I took it while standing in the freezing cold (for October) and what seemed to be gale force winds. I had to struggle to keep the tripod stable long enough for the super long exposure I needed to achieve this shot.

But hey, pretty nifty, eh? I mean, if I do say so myself! What I really love about this photo--besides the awesome color palette and that super shiny, creamy looking water surface--is that you can spy the very tip of the Empire State Building peeking out of the skyline there in the background. It was lit up purple on this night, but I have no idea why. The ESD lights up with different colors depending on which noble cause or person the city is commemorating on any given night. Or perhaps the lighting person in charge likes the artist, Prince, a lot?

Who knows. But, yeah ... so apparently a lot of people love this particular photo. And that makes me feel all tingly proud inside! I'm thinking of having it blown out to hang on my wall at home. What do you think?

So, Houston ... It Looks Like I Will Be In You Soon!

No, not in the biblical way. Har, har.

I know it seems rather last minute, but in fact I've been planning to visit my younger brother for some time now. He's lived in Houston since 2003, and in all that time no one from our family has ever stopped by to visit. That changes this Christmas season!

True, it will only be myself visiting him for the holidays, but that counts for something! I haven't seen my little bro since his Vegas wedding back in 2012. The wedding was supposed to take place in Houston, but the venue got changed to Sin City rather abruptly and so the fam never did get the chance to visit his fair city.

My bro and I at his wedding.

So here's my dilemma:

Houston peeps, what the hell is there to DO in your neck of the woods? Keep in mind that I'm from New York City, so it could be that I'm rather spoiled of course. But try as I might, I just can't figure out anything to wile away my time with while I'm there. I'm going to be in the Katy/Houston area for 6 days--from mid-week on through the weekend and beyond. I won't say when exactly, but you can probably guess considering the time of year and all.

So, can you help a fella out? Any suggestions?

I have to say, I'm really liking the weather in Houston this time of year. Nothing but 60s and 70s to be seen. Occasionally a few 80s, even. Whoa! So, I guess this really is the only time of year when the city is not sitting in a thick pea soup of humid hotness, eh? NICE!!!

So, there you have it. I'll be hopping on a jet plane shortly. It looks like the flight is only 4 hours. I've been on longer day drives to upstate New York. All right!!! You know, I think this will be the shortest flight I've taken in over a decade. Even the Vegas one was longer!

And, naturally, if any of you would care to meet up during my brief stay in your city -- you know how to get in touch with me.

Or, you know, just drop a comment in the box below. That works.

Status Update

Have no fear, all is fine here. I didn't even realize it's been nearly 2 months since I last blogged. Wow. Somehow I'm proud of that achievement. It means I've been busy living life! :)

And yet, despite the absence, my blog's daily tracker has exploded with new visitors in that time. Seriously! I used to get around 150 to 250 visitors per day a few months ago (twice that back when I was posting Game of Thrones reviews), but ever since the summer this site has been receiving anywhere between 900 and 1,500 unique visits per day! I guess when you've been posting since 2008, eventually you have something for everyone on your site. The majority of the visits are through Google searches, though, and around 75% of those are for various pics I post here. Especially pics about famous people or models. Go figure.

This Kid Is A'iight!

This month is just flying by, isn't it? I wrote that April Fool's Day post last thing I knew, and then I look up and it's already 3 weeks later! The hell? It's been busy, to say the least.

The Return

Guess who's back? Back again . . .

I've been M.I.A. over the past several days--since last Thursday, in fact. I needed some time off from everyday life here in the city. And so I headed up to Vermont with my very good friends, Cin and Aleks, and one of their friends for the MLK weekend. We all stayed in a great little B&B just outside of Ludlow in Okemo valley, which is not far from the Massachusetts/New Hampshire border.

But, boy, getting there was an adventure and a half! I dragged my luggage over to my friends' house Thursday morning. They had the car, see, but I would be the one driving us the 250 miles there and back. We picked up their friend, Marci, and then hit the road at around 4:30 pm. Unfortunately, this is the height of rush hour. And even more unfortunate, this is New York City. You get the picture. Needless to say it took an inordinate amount of time just to reach New Haven in Connecticut. About an hour longer than normal, if not more. Considering that we still had another 3 hours to go, I was worried we would arrive at our destination too tired to do anything but drop our bags and pass out. And what a waste of a day that would be, huh?

Still, on top of the horrendous traffic, we also had to contend with mother nature and hungry stomachs of course. What an annoyance! So we stopped at a service station along the road and made it into a McDonald's. Now, I haven't eaten in a Mickey Dee's in quite some time. And whenever I do, I'm never there for a whole meal. This time was different, tho. This was actually going to be my dinner for the night. So I ordered something simple but filling: two cheeseburgers and a small fries. However, when it came to the choice of drink I was drawing a blank. I was craving orange soda for some reason, and I could not remember if McD's served orange soda. The cashier looked at me like I was crazy. No orange soda, only an orange-like fruit drink. I had to reveal that, hell, I haven't asked for a soda in a fast food joint in 7 years. Give me a break, dude!

So I went with a diet coke instead.

But my poor, dear friend Cin had a worse experience. Not known for her adventurous spirit when it comes to food, I don't know why she chose this day to stir things up a bit. Having heard of the cult-like status surrounding McD's limited time sandwich--the McRib--she decided that this treasured delicacy would finally, on this very night, be hers! Oh, if only I had known. See, knowing Cin as I do, I did think this item an odd choice for her to be ordering. Despite the mania in this country for the McRib sandwich, it really isn't as good as it used to be back in the 80s when it was first introduced. I used to love it as a kid, but must say it's gone downhill ever since McDonald's decided it was a good idea to get rid of all the unhealthy saturated fats and other gunk that used to make their food delicious. Who needs a heart anyway, right?

But see, I didn't know that my friend did not know the McRib sucks. I thought she'd had one before and, like other crazy people in this country, had grown to become obsessed with the little faux-ribbed delight. Nope. Turns out she just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Bad, Cin. Bad! Only after she finished the sandwich did she complain about how awful it was. And that's when I found out the truth. Oy vey! I could have saved you the trouble, my friend.

The stuff of Cin's nightmares!

Yes, I'm still shaking my head to this day. Luckily for all of us in the car, Cin's error in judgement did not manifest itself in . . . er, let's say . . . any gastro-intestinal mishaps as we continued on our way. Phew! When we finally arrived at our destination, it was 10:00. Late, but not too late. The innkeepers Julie and Mike met us at the door and showed us to our rooms. Everyone got settled in, retired downstairs to the parlor to hang out a little, and then called it a night.

Home away from home at the Golden Stage Inn.

This tidy inn was very comfy to hang out at during our stay, and is very close to Okemo ski resort. We didn't do any skiing, however. Cin and Marci wiled away their waking hours crafting warmy socks and cool cowls and what have you, while Aleks had to contend with work-related phone calls and a business meeting or two in a big town one hour's drive away. Meanwhile I wrote a little and read a whole lot -- and stole cookies from the inn's infamous "never ending cookie jar" when I thought no one was looking (for the record: they totally were!).

Honestly, though, we were there just to relax and unwind, which was definitely welcomed on my part. And the innkeepers were just too awesome for words, too! We felt like we had free run of the house, hanging out in the parlor by the fireplace and sipping vodka-and-peppermint spiked hot cocoa as if it was our home. Not a bad way to spend a long, cold winter weekend, eh?

At some point Cin, Aleks and I left Marci behind and drove 90 minutes northeast to visit our alma mater, Middlebury College. We arrived on a late Sunday morning/early afternoon--and during January term to boot! Which meant the campus was even emptier and more quiet than normal for a Sunday.

It was weird returning to my old stomping grounds. Since graduating in 1998, I've only been back twice. Once in 2001 for a Chinese dept. reunion, and then again in 2004 to attend a wedding in a nearby town. Since then so much has changed. For one, there is a lot more development in the little village of Middlebury. More empty plots of land are now occupied by housing, or stores, and even a huge restructuring of the town center to include a traffic circle and this massive new bridge connecting the college with route 7 on the other side of town. Crazy! What used to take me 30 mins to walk to back in the 90s now takes only 12! Oh how I could have used this convenience then. *shakes fist*

In my day, we had to walk uphill in the snow . . .

And yet, for all that has changed, the campus itself has remained remarkably the same. It was very weird seeing the same official buildings, the same mail room, the same dorms we lived in looking very much like we last saw them. I had this weird feeling as we walked around campus reliving old memories; a feeling as if I had never left. This used to surprise me back when I attended college there, too, after returning from summer recess or winter break. This sense of sameness that used to drive me crazy, but now I find I miss terribly. If only I knew then what I know now. Maybe I would have savored the experience a bit more, knowing what awaited me out there in the real world.

Checking the ye olde mailbox just for kicks. Oh, how
my knees remember!

My dorm from Feb. 1995 until May 1996. 

Mead Chapel on the western end of campus.

What was even more disconcerting, however, were the few students we did run across on occasion during our trek to all our familiar haunts. Geez, were we ever so young and baby-faced? I mean, Cin could still pass for 19 years old no problem. But myself? Probably not so much. Still, I swear some of these kids looked like freshmen in high school, not college! Or maybe I am just getting older? Could be . . .

Anyway, the trip was a blast and much needed. Too bad it had to come to an end. Sorry for the long silence, but I'm back now and ready to return to this difficult task of getting my life in order. It's going to be a long year ahead, but I must remember to take little breaks like this here and there and have some fun. Or else I shall go mad. And there's nothing worse than a nutso blogger, is there?

Didn't think so.

Hello, Hello!

Just a quick note to let you know that, yes, I'm very much alive--and that reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Heh, heh.

Sorry, couldn't resist paraphrasing Mark Twain there.

We flew out to Las Vegas over the weekend to attend my little brother's wedding. It was originally planned for Houston, which I was actually looking forward to visiting for the first time. But then it got changed at the last minute to that little gem of debauchery in the middle of the Nevada desert. Vegas is a great town, despite the way people seem to always put it down. But at the same time, it's a little alarming how easily folks discard their morals and personal regard while in Sin City. It's true that pretty much anything goes there, and that whatever it is must truly stay there. Because, honestly, no one would ever believe you back home if you told them the things you did or saw there.

I've been away from the blog world for quite some time. Can't really say why. I think the whole blogging idea is wearing itself thin. At least for me. Plus, I have a lot on my plate these days. Nothing worth talking about here, though.

Anyway, this was meant to be quick and I meant it. So, it's good to be back home and I'm looking forward to this hated season coming to a close and my favorite (Fall) starting up again.

On one last note, I would like to say I've been greatly enjoying the Summer Olympics coverage these past couple of weeks. As always, USA represented itself extremely well on this world stage. You know, for how much other countries rib us for being so fat, we sure do win an awful lot of medals at major international sporting events, no? And against much bigger countries with far rigorous training programs to pump out machine-like athletes. Hmmmm . . . gee, I wonder to whom I could possibly be referring. Do you know?

A Study In Extremes

So, I'm back. Miss me?

We just got in a few hours ago, and I'm pretty beat. But just wanted to say that this last week spent traipsing across the western portions of the Caribbean was a blast! Lisa and I had tons of fun, tons of sun . . . and tons of FOOD! Oink, oink!

As per usual upon returning from a cruise (and we've been on THREE now!), it's kinda hard getting used to not being waited on hand and foot, and to not having copious amounts of food and drink being shoved in your direction at all hours of the day and night. You'd be surprised how fast you can get accustomed to such kingly treatment.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. We're back in the mean ol' boogie-down Bronx tonight, and boy the differences could not be any more extreme! See, we left behind daily temps in the upper 70s and low 80s, with vistas such as these:

(That's the island of St. Martin, btw) . . . Only to have the airplane descend through the clouds over New York City today and reveal the following landscape spread out below us:

Wow! Talk about a slap in the face back to reality, eh? We went from perfect beach weather every day of the week, to 25 degrees and 5 inches of freshly fallen snow on the ground. Brrrr!

I took the pic above right through the airplane's window as we flew over Far Rockaway on approach to JFK airport. And once landed and through the terminal, was met with the most intense, meat-freezer like temperatures I've ever felt. And this from the guy who has an unnaturally high tolerance for the cold. Wow! Guess all that beach and Mai Tai drinks went to my head.

Although, it wasn't all warmth and sunshine while we were away. Our cruise ship had an onboard ice lounge, whereby patrons donned wool gloves and [faux] fur-lined parkas before stepping through a freezer door into a bar and lounge comprised almost entirely of ice! The thermometer hovered on or just above 0 degree Fahrenheit. How's that for COLD??? Lisa couldn't stand three minutes of it before having to bail. I myself loved it! I had three arctic-inspired beverages in specially designed ice-cube chalices. Yes, these were glasses made from frozen water! You could feel the bone-numbing coldness seep through the wool gloves, people! It was so cold that my lips became numb after just a few sips, and as a result some of my drink dribbled down my chin and onto the parka. What a clutz!

Still, I'll leave you with this blurry iPhone pic of me toasting the Icelandic gods of ice and . . . er, more ice. Skål, everybody!

Some of you on Facebook have already seen these pics, but I should be posting up a host of others shortly. In the meantime, I hope you all behaved in my absence, and that your week was a great one too! I'll try to update more deets about our trip in the days to come.

Take Away My Sun, Give Me The Snow!

Over at the Economic Disconnect, my good friend GYSC relates the tale of why he dislikes winter. It's a great story, and you should head on over there to read it. I have to admit, he gives a pretty good reason for hating the season.

But me? I absolutely *love* the winter. If I had my way, I would live somewhere up in Maine or the frozen wilds of Canada, even. As far away from people as possible. I'm a recluse like that. Also, I find that the cold weather has this habit of civilizing people to the point where they behave like normal human beings. I suppose this comes from living in New York City all my life. Especially in the congested urban blight that is the Bronx where I grew up, where people practically live on top of each other and crime, as a result, is rampant. The only time this place gets decent is when the temps dip below freezing. Then everyone stays the hell indoors and learn to mind their business. Trust me, no one starts trouble around here in the months of January through March. It's glorious!

I was reminded of this very fact tonight as I was walking home. I took a shortcut through the city park across the street from my building, and not a single soul was out. I had the entire park to myself! The trees were bare and ghostly all around me--the air so crisp--and I could hear my own footfalls echo across the expanse. It was surreal, and even beautiful if you can believe it. And the biting cold just made me feel so ALIVE! This is why I love winter, I thought. This right here. When else do you get to be so alone and feel so great smack dab in the middle of the South Bronx?

The park, devoid of less hearty souls than I! (Yankee Stadium in the background)

Summer time is horrendous here. In the months of July and August, that same park has literally 80 - 120 people at all times just loitering about, talking late into the morning hours, playing craps and dominoes, shooting off firearms at random moments (yes, this DOES happen), and just generally making the park an unpleasant place to walk through.

But not now. Now, when the temps are in the low 20s F, and the windchill is in the single digits, the neighborhood is calm and at peace. And I find my mood reflecting that.

Like my friend GYSC, I have my own winter tale of caution to tell as well. When you read it, you'll wonder how I could ever love the season as much as I do.

See, I was in the Boy Scouts once. Rose all the way to the rank of Scout First Class before finally quitting around the age of 15. But this one time when I was 13, my troop decided to go camping in the woods in the middle of January. Yes, that's right: JANUARY! It was to attend some Scouts version of the winter Olympics, by which a bunch of local troops gather in the woods and compete at various skill-based competitions. First Aid and Rescue, Knot Tying, Shelter Building, Snow-Shoe Assembly (oh yes), Map & Compass use, and even Tracking. We sign up and participate in all these events in the attempt to earn our relevant merit badges.

Sounds great, right? Except, we were all kids from the inner-city ghetto. We didn't know shit about tracking through the woods. WTF? Still, our little Bronx troop of misfits tried our best. We didn't win anything, but at least we tried.

Here's where things get interesting, though. See, we had to set up our own lodging of course. Which meant constructing lean-tos and unrolling our sleeping bags inside them. Plain and simple. Problem is, I came woefully ill-equipped for that last part. Whereas everyone else somehow had these specially insulated winter sleeping bags--or "mummy bags" as we called them--I could only afford the thin, warm weather variety. My friends nicknamed it a "desert bag," since the desert is probably the only place such a pathetic excuse of a sleeping bag might work.

I've never been so cold in all my life! And to make matters worse, on that first night it started to snow. And continued snowing. By the time morning came around, we were all buried under 8 inches of snow! Yes, here we were in the middle of the woods in New Jersey while a damn blizzard was raging around us. We accumulate around 4 more inches before noon when the storm finally stopped. I don't think I ever once stepped out of my full winter gear, even to use the latrine. Hell, I even slept in my coat and mountain boots!

We managed to still have fun, though. That's what I remember the most. The bunch of us collecting firewood, running through drifts of snow, playing capture the flag and king of the mountain. I busted my knee slipping on a covered boulder while running through the woods once, but for some reason I got right back up and continued to chase after the rest of the troop. It really was like we were the Lost Boys out there.

But by the time the weekend came to a close, I was feeling the pain. Not even my glove warmers were doing the trick anymore. And I was wearing two pairs! I remember the troop packing up and hiking the long trail back down to the Ranger's station and parking lot. We stumbled along like zombies, none us able to feel our toes. And carrying all that gear on our backs sucked!

But then we made it, and I remember having a hot chocolate at the trading post while waiting for my aunt to come pick me up. Yes, we were too poor of a troop to afford organized transportation even. But somehow that only made the experience more endearing. When I came home, I took the longest, most decadent hot bubble bath of my life! I soaked in the tub for HOURS, submerged up to my nose, and still the warmth didn't seem to reach my bones. After continuing to run the hot water from the faucet for a while, it finally happened. But damn if I'll never forget that feeling of everlasting cold. BRRRRRR!

Yet despite all that, I loved it! I tell you right now I would do it all over again. I think something happened that weekend out there in the barren woods. For, from that moment on, I was always impervious to the cold. When I went away to Vermont for college, I would develop an even higher tolerance for the cold. Nowadays, no matter how cold it gets here in the city, it can never ever be THAT cold. This is nothing. I can do temps in the teens and twenties in my sleep. Ho-hum!

That all being said, I find myself thinking the impossible lately. I find myself contemplating taking a vacation to the Bahamas later this month. I know it won't really happen, but I can hope. My wife and I have this one perfect little island we like to go to there, and right about now it sounds just about DIVINE. Not because I need to escape the cold, but because I've never taken a beach holiday in the winter. Every time we go to the Caribbean, or some other near tropical locale, it always seems to be in the summer time. For once I would like to experience the novelty of getting on the plane where it's below freezing, and getting off where the people are wearing shorts and t-shirts and sipping mai-tais. :)

Sounds nice, doesn't it? Maybe we might do just that!

Maybe.

Boston, Prepare Thyself!

I may be all up in your shiz come President's Day weekend!

Yup, folks, I think this my be it. I think this may be the time I finally pop my cherry (of sorts) . . . and attend my very first ever science fiction book convention! What in the seven hells could I possibly be going on about? Why, take a looksee for yourselves:

Yes. I've been giving it a lot of thought lately, and I think I just might be able to pull this off. I've known about Boskone for quite a few years now, and each year I promise myself that this will be the year I go. And then I never do. But that's it. I'm putting my foot down! This time I will not flake out. Boston is also not very far from NYC, so I really have no excuse. The con itself is being held at the Westin Waterfront, somewhere downtown on Summer St. near the Boston Convention Center.

Of course, my decision is made all the more easy by the fact that the one and only John Scalzi, extraordinaire, will be there in person as next year's Guest of Honor. I missed him the last time he was here in New York promoting his novel, Fuzzy Nation. So this may just be my chance to make up for that oversight.

To be sure, Boskone will have a lot more to offer us con goers than just His Baconess alone, radiant though he may be (or maybe that's his cat?). If you take a gander at last year's program, you can see that Boskone is no joke when it comes to jam packing the weekend with lots and lots of interesting and varying things of a geeky nature for us fans and newbie writers to squee over. Since all this will be new to me, however, I'm pretty sure I'm going to utterly screw up my time management skills during this event. There's just too much to do! But oh well, no time like now to finally learn. And Boskone is a relatively small convention compared to, say, your Worldcons or DragonCons.

I'm very excited, though, but also not yet decided on this course of action. I'm going to give it a few days to stew over the pros and cons of going before finally taking the plunge. But in the meantime, if anyone has been to any Boskones past and/or would like to use your powers of persuasion to convince me to go, the comments section below is at your command. Use your powers for good, though.

Thank you.

There And Back Again, A Thanksgiving Tale

Woke up early yesterday morning for the long drive. Where we live in New York City is fairly close to the major highways heading north, so driving to visit my aunt and uncle upstate is easy. It's just a matter of navigating the very twisty, narrow roads as you get closer to the mountains and out into the "boonies," where the trees far outnumber the people.

Autumn Is Officially Here

Well, for me that is.

I took my wife apple picking this weekend. The weather wasn't looking too great for it Friday night, pouring rain like cats and dogs and all. But bright and early next morning it looked like a doable day for it, so I took out a Zipcar from the nearby garage and we drove about 90 minutes north of NYC to a family orchard in Warwick. I've never been there before, but it was a quaint little place. The smell of trees and all that fresh air reminded me a lot of my college days spent in the northern wilds of Vermont. And although it drizzled on and off the entire time, it was a very nice day for picking apples.

My favorite apple is the Red Delicious variety. Why? Well, because it's neither too tart nor too mushy--two things I absolutely loathe in an apple. A good Red Delicious has a chewy outer skin, crisp and watery inner, and can be eaten practically to the core without oxidizing too badly and getting all brown and gross. My next favorite apple is the good ole Macintosh. That one's a little more sweet than the Red Delicious, but still very good. It has to be very fresh and not overly ripened for me to enjoy one, though. Which is why I never eat Macs in the city. By the time they reach the fruit stands here, they've usually gone too soft.

Luckily for me, the two varieties that were ripe on the trees this time of year (last week of September, early October) are the Red Delicious and Mac types. So I scored big time by going now. Yay me! The dirt roads in the orchards were very muddy, however, so the Nissan Sentra I had rented out for the day had a tough go at it. Everything was going fine, for the most part. We had picked around three bags worth of apples, and were just leaving the farm when the missus decided she wanted to check out a grove of Concords off the side of the road. Me being an idiot, I drove off the road right up under the trees.

Big mistake.

After we had picked a few apples, we got back in the car and I reversed. Only to find the Sentra going nowhere fast. Sonuvabitch! I got out of the car and found the tires mired deep in mud and loose grass. We were stuck! Why oh why didn't I pick a 4WD vehicle instead, I thought. The Sentra didn't even have a lower drive setting--grrrr!

I tried pushing the front of the car while my wife reversed, but still no go. The tires were only sinking deeper. It was one of the most frustrating predicaments I'd ever been in. At one point, I got so bent out of shape pushing at the front bumper that I slipped almost face first into the mud. Do you know what it feels like to have your clothes completely covered in wet mud, and nowhere to go to wash it off or change into another set? I would've settled for a hose at the back of a barn at that point, actually. Not only that, but the mud smelled like manure. Yep, that's right: I smelled like a cow's ass!

But anyway, that was the least of my worries. I still had to figure out how to get the car unstuck. We were out in the middle of nowhere, and God only knew where the main house was. Luckily, I found a stack of hay bales nearby. I grabbed one and lugged it on over to the car. I then proceeded to stuff hay beneath and behind the tires, jamming it in there really nice in the hopes that I could give myself some traction. After several touch and go attempts--by which I mean the car got unstuck and then stuck again numerous times--I finally managed to push the car to some gravelly ground with the help of a few kind strangers who assisted me in pushing.

Unfortunately, the Zipcar was covered in more mud than I was now. Arrgh! There was no way I could return it looking like this. Even worse, I had no choice but to climb back into the driver seat and muddy up the interior now.

*sigh*

Some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed.

But, I took it all in stride I have to say. I drove and found the main area eventually. My wife and I sat down with some other pickers at picnic table and had some apple cider (yum!) and apple cider donuts (double YUM!!), and purchased a homemade apple pie to take home. Yes, it was a very apply Saturday for us. :)

But, boy, you should have seen the stares I was getting from everyone. I looked like I had come out of the losing end of a rugby match--YECK! I even had mud caked in my hair. And my shoes were shit! But they were hiking boots so that's what they were designed for, I guess. The whole time I was driving home, I couldn't wait to get out of those clothes, drop them in the washer on the "HEAVY SOIL" setting, and then take a nice hot shower.

But first I had to take care of the car.

Luckily I stopped by a car wash in the Bronx just before reaching home. I paid for the FULL SERVICE option and watched a team of undocumented workers who couldn't speak English go to town on the interior first. Then the car went through the old washer-roo and I watched on the waiting end as it got all spit-shined and polished. Wow! What a difference that made! I wish I had remembered to take pictures of it all, but by this time I just wanted to get home. I tipped the workers generously, though, then hopped in and burned rubber out of there! Got the Zipcar back to the garage with time to boot, then trekked the two blocks home while generating even more odd stares. Funny thing was, they're filming a movie in my neighborhood. The trailers had been set up on my street, and I'm sure someone thought I was some sort of extra or something. I passed by the crafts services truck and the guy working the counter gave me a double take.

Hmmm, on second thought . . . I should have tried to score some free food!

Anyway, I'm home now and I have delicious apple-tastic treats to show for it. Well not show, per se, as I don't want to bother with the camera right now. So you'll just have to take my word for it, but they're GOOD!

It's getting pretty chilly here in New York, too. Temps are now in the 60s for the following week, with nighttime temps even getting as low as the upper 40s here. Sweet! Perfect sleeping weather! I do so love this time of year.

Otherwise, I hope you guys had an awesome weekend. Tell me about it in the comments section, if you please.