My phone died Sunday afternoon. Well, it didn't die, per se, it just started to restart over and over again, rendering it utterly useless. I have been without a phone ever since. Yes, I know it's only Tuesday, but it feels like forever. A replacement is waiting for me when I get home, but I'll still have to charge it, activate it, blah, blah, blah, and I can't wait around for it, which means I'll likely be without a working phone until late tonight. It's actually somewhat liberating . . .
I am working (very) slowly on renovating my kitchen. As I begin this process, I am gathering a ton of information, clipping articles and pictures for inspiration, trying to save money, interviewing contractors, meeting with architect friends, and talking to others who have gone through the process. So far, I pretty much feel like scrapping the whole thing. I'm dealing with layers upon layers of the nonsense that is renovating in New York City (co-op board, department of buildings, the fact that I'm in a landmarked building, etc.), and I've realized that before I can get to the "fun" part of picking out (and buying) appliances, cabinets, and floor tiles and before I've paid my yet-to-be selected contractor a dime, I've probably used up well over half of what I expected my budget to be.
Today I saw this article on Apartment Therapy which featured a galley kitchen that she ultimately opened up into her living room (which is something I hope to do in some fashion). She calls her kitchen, pictured above "outdated." Girl, you want to see outdated?! Try mine (pictured below). I'd trade my kitchen for your "before" picture any day.
Last week, I was lucky enough to go see Joan Jett & The Blackhearts and The Who live at the Barclay Center. In some ways, it was like a time machine, transporting me back to junior high and high school days, when I listed to both a lot more often than I currently do. In particular, I remembered that every one of our high school dances ended with Baba O'Reilly -- such a weird choice, in retrospect. Every time I hear that song, I think of high school dances. Life was much simpler then . . .
Thinking of Josh Ozersky this morning -- he died yesterday at age 47, which is way too young, and the whole thing still just seems somewhat unreal. We weren't close -- I knew him mostly from the early food blogging days (as pictured above from this 2007 NYT article) -- but he was the sort of person with whom I'd always stop and chat when we bumped into each other on the street or at an event. RIP, Josh. May your afterlife be filled with as much gusto as your life here on earth.