STORIES

  Simple Pleasures

Image courtesy of shigitatsu.com

To me, spring is all about simple pleasures. No more do I need to dream up creative ways of entertaining myself indoors while the icy wind is howling outside. During springtime, all I need to do is walk outside my door and all of my senses are instantly stimulated. Today, I still have to pinch myself when I walk around my neighborhood during springtime because it just seems too picture-perfect: neat little rows of tulips are planted in my neighbors' front yards, and even the city trees planted equidistant from each other along the sidewalk have little crocuses or lilies of the valley corralled around their trunks.

This is all worlds away from where I grew up where it is perpetually spring; palm trees don't ever seem to die- it's as if as long as there aren't too many extreme temperature changes, they'll thrive eternally. Don't get me wrong, though, nice weather is certainly not a curse. But when it's consistently pleasant outside, there's not really much to look forward to on the foliage front. As a result, even though several years have passed since I moved to New York, the novelty of annual flowers that briefly grace the world with their presence never gets old.

Spring also inspires the appreciation of other simple pleasures besides the ones that nature provides. I went into the city a few weeks ago, traversing the island east to west, and on my way to the train back to Brooklyn, I stopped for a little break near the 5th Avenue Apple Store. The massive patio in front of it is always packed with tourists, as it sits across from the Plaza Hotel, Central Park, etc. On this particular afternoon, many of the people there seemed to be on the tail-end of a shopping day, most likely finishing with a descent into the Apple Store's massive glass cube. But among the crowd of the usual characters, there sat an elderly couple, well into their seventies, if not eighties, basking in the late afternoon sun.

As I sat there watching them from behind, I knew, partly, that I was witnessing a perfectly clichéd New York moment: "Amidst the hustle and bustle of the big city, she sat for a moment, only to see a lovely old couple reminding her of what is really important in life: enjoying the company of others, love and savoring small pleasures," the screenplay would read. But the sweetness of their interaction still stopped me in my tracks.

I slurped my quickly melting Forty Carrots frozen yogurt as I watched these two lovebirds sit in silence with each other. As if the calming drone of traffic and hum of nearby conversations wasn't  enough ambient noise for them to melt away into, the husband held a small tape player with a speaker to his wife's ear that played Big Band music; they brought a bit of their past with them to that very mundane Thursday afternoon. He held while she listened, closing her eyes, her face aimed straight up at the sun. It was a gentle moment of affection that conveyed a sense of utter contentedness between the two of them.

I suppose the idea of simple pleasures can seem clichéd because it is so often referred to, yet it is even more often ignored in the flurry of our daily lives. But if spring can bring out the beauty in a relationship that has obviously stood the test of time, then hopefully there's something in it for me, too.

Next weekend, you'll know where to find me: in front of the 5th Avenue Apple store staring at the sun with my boyfriend. The only thing is, where in the hell do you get a Walkman with speakers? Well-played old couple, well-played.

PARK SLOPE PERSPECTIVE

Top 5 Buys at The Bad Wife market, Park Slope, Brooklyn

The Bad Wife market, Park Slope, Brooklyn

    This unconventional "corner" store with an even more unconventional name offers some of the best specialty food items in the neighborhood, at reasonable prices.

What used to be a glorified bodega-like mini-market between 11th and 12th street on 7th avenue in Park Slope, The Bad Wife - re-vamped several months ago- is now a small-scale grocer that competes with the likes of Union Market, without the pretension, smooth jazz or insanely long lines. While you can't get prime cuts of meat here, many other specialty and non-specialty items abound, plus they have a juice bar and some of the most gorgeous fresh flowers and potted plants in the neighborhood.

Here are some of the goodies that draw me to The Bad Wife, besides the welcoming atmosphere and  friendly owners:

Photo courtesy of stevesicecream.com

1. Steve's Ice Cream: Mexican Chili Chocolate, $5.99/pint
This item is definitely a treat, but if you have never had cayenne pepper in your ice cream, I suggest you skip your lunch plans and dive into a pint right now- you won't regret it.

2. YAMAMOTOYAMA Jasmine Tea, $2.39/box (16 tea bags)
For Jasmine Tea addicts like myself, this incredibly inexpensive box is all you need to make cup after cup of this earthy, fragrant beverage. Simple, to-the-point and inexpensive, YAMAMOTOYAMA Jasmine Tea will give you an eye-opening morning kick that's comparable to coffee, without the comedown.


3. Dogfish Head Burton Baton and Aprihop beers, $3.60/bottle

Hallelujah!  Dogfish Head beer is more readily-available in local markets than it was a year ago, and The Bad Wife carries two of the brand's particularly unique brews. Burton Baton- now sold year-round- has the hoppy kick of an IPA with an oakey vanilla flavor to mellow it out, while Aprihop's subtle fruitiness makes it a refreshing alternative to your run-of-the-mill IPA. Both have higher-than-normal alcohol contents (10% and 7% ABV, respectively) so one or two bottles should suffice for a cheap night in.

4. Aura Cacia Candle Lamp (for essential oil diffusion), around $7.99
Realized the smell of kitty litter is taking over your house, or that your living room is missing a little "atmosphere"? Pop into The Bad Wife for a quick fix to your problem: The Aura Cacia Candle Lamp is an inexpensive way to safely burn essential oils and give your home an aroma-makeover. Plus, the market also sells a wide range of oils, so you can experiment with the perfect blend for absolute tranquility (3 drops Lavender, 3 drops Tangerine, 3 drops Marjoram, 1- drop Chamomile, in case you were wondering).

5. Mrs. Lee's Kimchi, $5.99
For kimchi fans, skip the packaged stuff and try this homemade version of the spicy, pickled Korean dish straight from the kitchen of Mrs. Lee, the "Bad Wife" herself!

The Bad Wife
378 Seventh Ave. (bet. 11th and 12th)
Park Slope
Brooklyn, NY 11215

WORD NERD

Today's Word: Ephemera

Dictionary.com defines ephemera as: "Anything short-lived...or items designed to be useful or important for only a short time."


I prefer my ephemera to be of the marine variety, which is why I was so excited to see images of seahorses, shells and coral grace the pages of many a fashion magazine this past March.

The fact that ephemera- with it's choppy/silky syllables (who can't resist whispering them aloud?)- represents the notion of impermanence rightly helped set the stage for the fleeting underwater fantasy worlds recently brought to life- with evidently pain-staking detail- by Chanel and Alexander McQueen.  

Courtesy of IMAXtree.com and Matteo Volta

(elle.com)

Elle magazine's coverage of Chanel's "silicone-and-leather handbag" illustrated the level of detail that went into creating some of these pieces. Each uniquely sized bauble hanging from the bag's delicate outer net-like structure had the undulation and texture of a precious coral branch. Perhaps the creators even went so far as to construct a fabric replica of the creature living inside the mock outer-casing? If that were true, what a wonderful surprise for us, but a torturous task for the seamstress!

The sea-maiden dresses practically shellacked onto the models at Alexander McQueen's Spring/Summer 2012 show made them appear to have just arisen from beneath the sea foam; their skin having acted as some kind of magnet drawing the minutest of shells to form a glistening exoskeleton. Ariel would have most certainly ditched Prince Eric to don one of these dresses as Queen of the merpeople- screw the chance to walk!

But sea ephemera is not just a Spring 2012 fashion trend; look back to Real Simple magazine from May 2011 and you will find a down-to-earth interiors spread emphasizing muted furniture and walls as the ideal backdrop for colorful pops of dessicated sea life. In this case, the ephemera needn't have   to be so fleeting; it fit perfectly inside an office nook as a permanent display.

Matthew Williams (realsimple.com)

There's a reason why we covet things that are meant to be temporary: Their impermanence makes them seem that much more special. So whether the ephemera is a collection of sea shells, or a stack of move tickets, they should be proudly displayed, emphasized and celebrated because eventually they will turn to dust, fade or shrink into nothingness just as their name implies- plus they're fun to look at!

BEAUTY & MONEY

Picky or Principled?

On very rare occasions, I treat myself to a pedicure. This treat is usually preceded by a checking of the bank account and an analysis of whether or not this purchase will set off a detrimental domino effect of bad purchases leading to impending debt. Usually, though, if I'm feeling especially grubby, the reality of my bank account doesn't seem to matter either way. Sometimes you gotta say screw it in the name of beauty.

Anyway, I tend to treat these visits as very precious events with one rule: they must go perfectly. That means finding the perfect polish color (and not making the grave error of pea green Essie on my toes); making sure I am thoroughly aware of every minute of pampering (which usually amounts to about fifteen); and that I have a pleasant conversation with the nail technician. All of this is usually possible, until they hand me the bill.

Dammit, I say to myself! This was all going so well; I had everything under control, was feeling relaxed and then the bill had to go and sour everything. First, let me back up and say that before I get any type of beauty service in my Brooklyn neighborhood, I coach myself by saying, "Okay, just tip twenty percent and be done with it. No more, no less. That way, you don't have to even think about it, and they will be happy too." But this dialogue with myself doesn't seem to play out the same way in real life. Usually the whole plan gets fudged midway through the pedicure's calf massage. It feels so incredible that my previously agreed upon (with myself) twenty percent tip turns into thirty percent, then forty percent, until I have to reel myself back toward my original plan.

The other reason I coach myself beforehand is because the price always changes, slightly, from what I am quoted upon arrival. It's little things like an extra dollar here and there with no description of what the charge is for. I know this sounds incredibly cheap- I mean, what's an extra dollar, really? And that is probably where I should leave the argument in my head. But on the other hand, there is the principle of knowing how much you will be paying for a service, and trusting that the proprietor will stick to that price. To me, it feels deceitful, and there's nothing like deceit to tarnish a good relaxation session.

Of course, as I melt into the giant massage chair, I can't help but recognize that these people are doing grueling work on my body: cleaning my toes, massaging my legs, and breathing in nail polish fumes all day long- why shouldn't they be allowed to deceive me a little? What's the ultimate loss here? Are my principles being challenged to the point that my livelihood is in danger? Is one or two or three unforeseen extra dollars going to put me over the financial edge, or even change the fact that these ladies are stuck crouched over on a small stool tending to people's corns all day? No. But I still can't shake the discomfort of knowing that, business-wise, my nail technician might not be totally up-front.

I guess this is the conundrum I will have to live with because no matter how much I like getting my toes beautified, I will always feel slightly wrong about the whole process, and wrong about the fact that these ladies may have to scam for extra tips because their wages aren't that great. Because the fact is that no matter how concerned I am with my own money, I am lucky enough to be choosing to go to a spa on a Saturday afternoon. And if I have to do a little mental gymnastics to justify the experience, then so be it. At least I am fully aware of the dynamics that are playing out,  and maybe that awareness will make me into a better tipper so that I can finally just relax and enjoy what I'm paying for.

CULTURE CREATURE

Practicality vs. Frivolity

As an admitted Francophile (although my blind admiration has greatly diminished) I am constantly assessing my world through the lens of a very limited binary of France vs. the U.S. Normally I would tell myself that it's unrealistic and unfair to pit these two dynamic countries and cultures against each other because there is always more than meets the eye- culture is merely a symptom of a country's complex history, language, wars fought and won, geography, etc. But, this is the Internet and what's more fun than an easy-to-read list, even if it's overly simplistic!

So, let's take some inspiration from shoe magician Christian Louboutin's interview in the March issue of Marie Claire, where he said he "prefer[s] the useless to the useful, the sophisticated to the natural." Here is the short list comparing America's proclivity for utility versus France's love for, well, the opposite of that:

1. Sneakers vs. stilettos (an easy one...just a warm-up!)
2. Supermarkets vs. incredibly specific local food purveyors (e.g. the local sausage maker- okay, Brooklyn does have those, and France does have supermarkets, but still...)
3. Monogamy vs. mistresses/open relationships/relationship gray areas (our puritanical blood couldn't handle that on a widespread cultural level!)
4. TV political pundits vs. rock star philosophers
5. Food quantity vs. food quality
6. Zero days statutory paid vacation vs. 5 weeks (2 weeks is common in the U.S., but according to this list, the U.S. minimum is actually 0 days!)
7. Mom jeans vs. mom in skinny jeans
8. Pullman loaves and chocolate chip cookies vs. croissants et macarons

DAILY

Pin-sanity?

With everyone else in New York honed in on the Lin-sanity related to New York Knicks player Jeremy Lin, I've decided to turn my focus toward another recent cultural obsession: Pinterest.

According to a story on NPR's Morning Edition, the virtual, personalized bulletin board website drew "more than 10 million unique visitors" to sign up for an account last month, which is pretty impressive considering all of the self-exploitation sites that already have rights to our limited attention spans- how do we all find the time?!

I love a good visual mock-up of ideas as much as the next person, but for some reason the ease of Pinterest irks me.  Now it seems that anyone can curate a collection of ideas and virtually represent their style simply by dragging an image to their Pinterest board- does the world really need more amateur curators on the web?

Perhaps if the social element was removed from Pinterest (which would be totally pointless), it's value, for me, would be restored because it would turn into more of a personal project that would mature over time. Right now, one's ideas are instantly available on their Pinterest board even if the idea is backed up only by a mere three seconds of thinking "Hey! That looks cool!"

Why is this instantaneous sharing of ideas and visual inspiration a bad thing, you may wonder? I guess it's really not if Pinterest can prove that its site has staying power, and that people are using Pinterest as a tool to make a meaningful impact in the real world (as opposed to virtual). But with most social web endeavors, including blogs, the fervor will spike initially when anyone and everyone jumps on-board, but it will eventually slim down to a more manageable and purposeful size, which takes nothing but time.

I guess the web has its own way of curating things.

DAILY

'Hey winter! Is that all 'ya got?!'

Perhaps I'm a masochist, or perhaps it's because I'm originally from California, and I want the full East Coast winter experience, but when the winter season is as mild as it has been this year, I feel that the warmth, come spring, won't feel as sweet.

There's nothing like heading up to Prospect Park, in Brooklyn, on the first truly warm day- warm enough to go for a bike ride in shorts, no sweatshirt- and seeing the burst of activity; the contrast to the pent-up, closed-off energy of winter is dramatic. You literally feel the buzz of excitement as everyone shakes off the physical and emotional weight of winter like one collective, shaggy, wet dog. But will this buzz feel as intense when I can sum up winter in one, sort-of word: meh?

On one side, I am a person of order and when the weather breaks the rules (i.e. warm winter, cold summer) I tend to feel that the world is somehow out of whack. But I doubt I'm alone; do you ever hear anyone say, "What an epic ski trip! It was hot every day and the snow was so slushy!" No! No one ever says that because people expect proper winter weather...during winter. It's just the way it has to be, and if the weather doesn't cooperate during your alpine vacation, it soon becomes seared into your memory as the worst trip ever, and nobody wants that! I feel the same about everyday life: I want the seasons to adhere to my standards and follow the rules that all kindergarteners follow when depicting them with crayon: winter requires snowflakes; spring must have flowers; summer always takes place at the beach; and fall is flooded with leaves. It's so simple! Why can't nature jump on board?!

On the other side, though, who likes to be cold six months out of the year? In some ways, this winter has been a blessing, a consolation prize for the disaster that was last winter (abandoned city buses anyone?). Anytime the clouds collect to form a solid white shell over our great city, I think, "Maybe this is it. Maybe this will be the storm we've been waiting for." But alas, we've received only a pitter of flakes amounting to nothing more than damp sidewalks.

There are definite pluses to this bizarre lack of winter weather: less ice patches to dodge; less angry people at the subway station; less frozen fingers; and lighter coats. But, again, I wonder, are all of these wintertime inconveniences what make the sights and sounds of spring all the more vivid and intense? If nature keeps up the warm trend, I suppose I will find out soon. Either way, though, regardless of whether or not we will have earned our spring this year, you can bet your ass that come April, I will be cruising through the park on my Huffy having completely forgotten this entire discussion because overanalyzation is a winter sport, after all.

CULTURE CREATURE

The three best bands NOT playing Coachella 2012

1. YACHT
The high-energy, Los Angeles/Portland/Texas-based, part-electro, part-genreless project of genius will sadly not be showing us their grooviest dance moves this April. Apparently these "Holy Roller[s]" (hint: track from new album!) are deep in the throes, already, of their North American Shangri-La tour. The tour ends late March, at least on this continent, so who knows where their globetrotting ways will take them come end of April. No doubt that, wherever they are, they will be boogeying to their hearts content onstage- if you've ever seen them live, you'll know what I mean.

As a side note, I have to say that when I first saw YACHT, when it was just Jona Bechtolt, I was mesmerized by his jerking, bouncing and somewhat Napoleon Dynamite-esque dance moves that he executed so unapologetically onstage. So, when Claire Evans joined him to officially make YACHT a duo (they have other band members, too, but these two run the show), I was slightly disappointed. Who was this girl? This imposter to the tripped-out, fantastical, electronic world of Jona? I was protective. But, this femme-fatale-to-the-core won me over, especially during their DeKalb Market show in Brooklyn this past summer. This girl is a badass with a sexy and fun onstage persona, which she is absolutely not afraid to break between songs with her brief, witty quips. YACHT blends performance art with humility, and is the one band whose members I honestly wish were my friends.

2. My Morning Jacket
Deep down- actually, not deep down, but right up on the surface- I want to cry knowing that I won't see MMJ play at Coachella this year. Seeing these Kentucky rockers do their thing four years ago at Coachella, when they were just about to hit their peak of popularity, was a transformative experience for me. At the time, I just couldn't make sense of their utterly genre-bending ways (I guess I have a thing for bands who blur the lines). Picture this: Jim James, the band's front man, can completely kill any classic country tune with accuracy and panache, and a killer- and might I add, shocking- falsetto, to boot. But, he did this while wearing giant, fuzzy moon boots...which made him seem even cooler. Too weak of an example? How about the band's newest album, Circuital: The track "Holdin On To Black Metal" layers a gospel-like chorus of children singing on top of a funky sixties groove that finishes with a wanky, distorted, yet totally enjoyable guitar solo, that somehow all blends together seamlessly. Mostly, though, I will miss seeing them do what they do best: taking country and blues roots music, disemboweling and skinning it, and chopping up the leftovers to make a sonic stew that's incredibly delicious, but has me asking: "What am I tasting, exactly?"- just the way I like it.

3. Wilco
Dammit Wilco, you elusive, melancholy tease! You come out with this new album, The Whole Love, and suddenly your recent art-rock tendencies have pushed you to try out your new sound on a slightly less Wilco-possessive crowd in Europe, eh? Well, I won't stand for it! I want to hear this album live in the Southern California desert like God intended. I want everyone to hear you reveal your penchant for electronic tracks and see how they don't take away from your beautifully depressing acoustic sounds. My only concern is that perhaps you were overlooked since Radiohead is already playing at the festival? I do have to say that some of these new tunes seem a little Brit-inspired. Hey, it's totally okay though! There's room in the ether for you to expand your sound, and so what if it overlaps a bit with what they're doing across the pond? It still sounds amazing, and I'm sure it would sound even better live...if only you were playing at the festival!

PARK SLOPE PERSPECTIVE

Café Matrix- The best, worst and middle-of-the-road cafés between 9th st. and Prospect Ave.

Let's start with the good:

Red Horse Café
I wrote this place off for a while; I came here semi-regularly a few years ago when I was in graduate school and when it was outfitted with a giant couch. It was friendly and warm then, but there was something about it that didn't make it stick, for me, as a regular hangout. Now, though, there has been an apparent change in ownership, and the crusty couch in the back has been replaced with a long bench with tables accommodating many more people. Plus, I'm not forced, anymore, to cozy-up to a stranger on an unevenly stuffed couch where we both inevitably slide toward the middle (so awkward).  This is my favorite place to work and is an excellent place for impromptu meetings and study sessions. The owner and baristas are incredibly friendly. Best parts: they never give you dirty looks when you work for three hours and only order a cup of tea (for this reason, I tip them heavily); and they serve booze, so it's great for evening work sessions when you've maxed-out on caffeine for the day and want a more debaucherous kind of buzz.

Red Horse Café
6th Ave and 12th St., Park Slope

Sweet Wolf's/Forty Weight Coffee Roasters
Is it a restaurant? Is it a coffee shop? Who knows but the owner and employees are super friendly; that's the first thing I noticed when I started going here. The owner of the coffee shop- which is open until 4pm, at which point the joint turns into the restaurant Sweet Wolf's- greeted me, made my drink, bussed my place at the communal table and even gave me a cute little timer for my tea (kind of a gimmick, but a sweet touch that shows they're trying to win over a clientele who has a ridiculous amount of café choices). Banking on the communal vibe that has been popularized by chain cafés like Le Pain Quotidien, the owners of Forty Weight installed a very large communal table of their own that forces you to make a choice: Do you wait for someone to move so that you can have an easily accessible spot on the end?  Or do you greet your neighbor with a friendly "Hello" and "Excuse me" and ask them if they could scooch down a little? At Forty Weight I have noticed a friendliness among patrons unlike any other café in the neighborhood. Perhaps the management is responsible for the convivial vibe, but, either way, warmth is in the air here. All in all, Forty Weight is great, not just for a coffee fix, but for connecting with other locals, especially if you're new to the area.

Forty Weight Coffee Roasters
6th Ave and 12th St., Park Slope (did I mention, it's across the street from Red Horse?!)


Hanco's Bubble Tea & Vietnamese Sandwich
When Hanco's opened a year after I moved to the neighborhood, it felt as if my prayers were answered. I had become accustomed to regularly experiencing the mind-blowing deliciousness of bubble tea and banh mi while living in California, but New York seemed to be sorely lacking in this delicacy. My only salvation- until Hanco's opened- was a bubble tea café in Flushing- way too far to get a regular fix! Then, Hanco's opened and all I could say was "Hallelujah!" Their banh mi  sandwiches have the perfect buns (crusty on the outside, light and fluffy on the inside), and kick of heat and tang with jalapenos, pickled carrot and daikon. And since this post is about the best cafés in the area, here is why Hanco's is more than the average sandwich shop: customers can drop in for tea- hot or cold, bubble or not, milk or plain- and work on their laptop, join a knitting circle, or even just stare at the passers-by on 7th ave, all while enjoying free wi-fi! Hanco's is my favorite café/restaurant hybrid in the neighborhood, and its constant stream of customers is a testament to the fact that I'm not the only one who thinks so.

Also: listen to the opening story about Hanco's on a This American Life episode. You will want to support Hanco's even more after listening to this!

Hanco's Bubble Tea & Vietnamese Sandwich
7th Ave and 10th St., Park Slope

Now the middle:

Colson Patisserie (or Patisserie Colson)
Come here for the best croissants in all of Park Slope, bar none, but don't come here for a particularly friendly vibe, or to spread out for a long study session. I say this for two reasons: First, the primary clientele is parents with babies, which also means large strollers- it can get very crowded in here and there isn't a ton of seating, unless it's warm and you can take advantage of sitting outside; secondly, the staff seems oddly stingy with the Wi-Fi (I inquired once about whether or not they had Wi-Fi and got an abrupt answer to the tune of We don't want people only buying one coffee and sitting here all day.) The concern is understandable but when most cafés in the area welcome the inevitability of marathon café sitters, it makes Colson seem a little unfriendly.


Colson Patisserie
374 9th Street (corner of 6th ave), Park Slope

DAILY

GLAD:)? (I sure hope so)

One of my favorite books, Bel Ami by Guy de Maupassant, is set to be released as a feature film starring, drum roll: Robert Pattinson as the scheming, ever-opportunistic Georges Duroy. I have faith in this film, especially because Pattinson will be buoyed by a solid set of cast members, including Uma Thurman and Kristin Scott Thomas. My only hope is that Pattinson can do proper justice to Duroy's character. Up until now, we all knew he had acting chops as as a vampire with a soft spot for sweet stoner chicks, but now he's going to have to grow a thicker skin- emotionally speaking- to convey the level of scoundrel-osity, shall we say, that Duroy embodies. The deliciousness of the Bel Ami story is that Georges Duroy's calculating ways- and good looks- enable him to sleep with influential Parisian women, one after another, in an effort to boost his journalism career- and place in society. On second thought, I guess this story's not too far off from a vampire tale, it's just that in Bel Ami, Pattinson will have to convince us he's addicted to sex, power and fame, as opposed to human blood.

Traveling Solo

The Do's, Don'ts, Ups, Downs, Sads and Glads of Traveling Alone

Many people know of Santorini as a commonly-toured Greek island, well-known for its massive cliffs traversable by donkey. It has the quintessential whitewashed houses and azure-blue rooftops famously captured in millions of photos and popularized by generic Barnes and Noble calendars. It's a truly beautiful place and an idyllic vacation spot...for most.

Did you know that Greece has the highest percentage of smokers out of any country in the European Union? This statistic meant nothing to me until I jumped into my cab from the Santorini airport. The taxi smelled more than normal cigarette smoke; it was as if decades of ash and smoke particles had transformed into some sort of super-resin that coated every wall, seat and inch of carpet in the taxi. I held my breath until I arrived at the hotel. "Thank you Sir," I said, and tried not to throw up. My other intense encounter with the Greek penchant for cigarettes was on a boat- more like a converted pirate ship- out to the volcano craters off Santorini's coast. While the captain chain-smoked unfiltereds, I tried to stabilize myself as the floating gas chamber rocked and rolled through the cold, choppy sea. Quickly, my visions of a relaxing beach holiday, with warm, crystal blue water were replaced with a colder, more depressing reality. I guess that's what I get for going to Greece in October.

The trip wasn't all bad, though. I guess you could say I was a hit with the male folk. During one of my walks through the back roads of town, a teenage boy, also walking alone, gestured for me to come talk to him, and then asked me my name. But I knew better than to say anything; guys don't like it when you give-in too quickly. Another morning, I went to get some delicious Greek/Nescafé instant coffee when a male shopkeeper stared me down, whistled and insisted I come talk to him because I was "American girl, so beautiful." I thought to myself, "These people are so friendly. What vigor the Greeks have!" My hot streak continued with a bartender at a Santorini nightclub who, in the friendliest of ways, threw ice cubes at me, and several other girls, to try to get our attention. I approached him and we exchanged a few words until another ice cube target showed up; I humbly bowed away and left him to his business. (Being on the slightly prudish side, I was wasting his time, and didn't want to thwart the efforts of an obviously successful ladies' man.) My tips to any woman traveling alone to Santorini: keep your doors unlocked, wear high heels and tight-fitting clothes, speak American, and all will be well. The Greek men love all of this, and you will be totally safe!

Another reality that I had not accounted for is the fact that the majority of Santorini's visitors are A) cruise boat tourists on day trips to the island, and B) couples on their honeymoon. Falling outside these categories can prove dangerous because your purpose on the island is heretofore unknown. It is rare that someone who is not seventy-five years or newly wed visits the island. If this is you, be prepared to realize just how single- and young- you are.

The walk along one of the major roads lining Santorini's cliffs is a dense collection of hotels and terraced restaurants, each looking more charming than the last, and each even more suited for a memorable honeymoon. Some of the hotels have rooms that are actually carved into the cliffs, with limitless views of the sea. And some of these rooms have infinity pools spilling over cliff edges so that a visitor will literally never be able to find more impressive, well-appointed accommodations for all of the anniversaries they have yet to celebrate. I walked past these places sighing and wishing that this type of luxury was my reality. My hotel room did have access to Italian TV dating shows, so I guess that was some sort of consolation.

But nothing makes a single girl feel more alone than a romantic dinner in a foreign country...alone.

(To be continued)

DAILY

A (very) concise list of Portlandia's best characters and moments.

In no particular order:
1)  Battlestar Galactica ultra-marathon (season 2, episode 2)
Fred and Carrie couldn't have depicted any better the insanity that comes from delving into this sci-fi series. Lost your job? Haven't left the couch for two weeks? Avoided contact with the outside world, all so that not a second of Cylon drama is missed? All verge on plausible outcomes due to Battlestar addiction- I can definitely relate. How they convinced Edward James Olmos, though, to participate in the table read of a Fred-and-Carrie-concocted new episode is beyond me- a genius move.

2) Parents of a pre-schooler (season 2, episode 5)
They capture the unique pretensions of cool Portland parents who would shame you for a music collection with even one toe dipped into the mainstream pool. Theirs is far funnier than WASPy pretension, and just as mean.

3) The Knot Shop (season 2, episode 2)
Pure capitalization on Jeff Goldblum's weirdness: Until this episode, I had never heard him purr before, but I'd love to hear it again! And the knot sculptures encased in cloches remind us that even shitty art can be marketable if creatively displayed for a captive audience.