Wallse

My life has gotten significantly more exciting since that guy asked if I was pregnant (see below). I have now started training one day a week at our head chef/owner's other restaurant Wallse. Wallse is in the West Village and is much more upscale than Blaue Gans. If you have not already, check out head Chef, Kurt Gutenbrunner's web site where all three of his restaurants are shown. All three places are so beautiful and I am so excited and humbled to be asked to work at Wallse.

The night of training was totally crazy but I know Wallse will be an exciting addiction to my world in New York City. Check out the review from New York Times.

Postscript: I just realized that I used the word "exciting" way too many times in this short post. But seriously, it's exciting!

The Day I Wanted To Die.

So I am back at Blaue Gans and was having a great night. Jane Fonda and friends had come in the night before, David Schwimmer was at the front table and I just got a promotion. Life was good. The night started to slow down and we only had a few customers in the restaurant including one solo male. He was finishing up his meal and I walked over and asked if he would like another glass of wine. He said he did so I brought one over. When I finished pouring his wine he looked at me, patted his stomach and asked, "How many months along are you?" Attempting to remove the horror from my face I politely said, "I'm not pregnant." and ran back to the kitchen to curl up with the rats and die.

Dear Everyone,
NEVER. I repeat, NEVER, ask a woman about pregnancy. Just don't do it. For God's sake, DON'T. It ruins peoples days and makes them want to die.

Love,
Katie

The Cherry On Top

After my rough day yesterday (see post below) I awoke to what I consider the cherry on top. Sarah pounces into my bed and tells me that there is a dead C in the kitchen. We both try and brave the C but I end up trying to toss it out the window only to fail miserably and have the half alive C just land on the outside window sill. I don't think Sarah has been more disappointed with me in her whole life.

I did the coffee run this morning to the Bed-Stuy deli down the street, clutching my wallet (my friends were just mugged by gunpoint last week on my block) and as I am in the deli a big black lady looks at me and says, "St. Olaf?" I was so shocked and excited. I asked if she knew it and she said, "only from TV." "Golden Girls?" I reply. "Yeah..." She laughs. So alas friends, I am in that far away place called New York City that you only dream of in movies. And here is this woman who recognizes the far away place that I am from that she only knows from TV.

Homesick

You would think with spring approaching, flowers blooming, patios opening, etc that this would be the time that I would love to be in New York more than ever. But for some odd reason I am crazy homesick. I just realized that I haven't left a two-mile radius in over 4 months. Yeah, yeah, "New York has more to offer on one street block than..." blah blah blah. But what about wide open spaces? What about looking out your window and not being able to see into the homes of at least 40 other people? What about being able to go home after a long day and not rub elbows with 100+ strangers? I need to break out of this city like I have never needed to before. I need to literally - elbows jabbing - bust out of this place before I go totally mad. I want to be back where the smell of fresh cut grass in the norm, as opposed to delivery tuck exhaust. Where my ride or walk home from an errand run in silent and not filled with the shouts of the coke-head preacher on the subway screaming that I haven't let Jesus in. Even just the absence of all of those eyes. Just dotting around, reading subway posters, books, watching iPod videos, playing cell phone games, staring, crying, watching.

I was walking home today feeling down about the day when I stopped at the light to wait for it to change. There was a white minivan with two Hasidic Jews screaming at each other in Yiddish. They were screaming at each other so loud that they didn't even notice the light change. I start walking across the street and that is just when they realized they had a green light. I yelled at them, they yelled back in Yiddish and I wished the day was over. So I went home, took a hot shower, ordered a pizza and watched two episodes of The Biggest Loser. (You know you have been away too long when you are shocked when the pizza delivery boy shows up in a car and not on a bike.)

No worries friends. I will be home in one week. To sweet home Wisconsin where the grass is cut fresh, backyards exist and tap beer is $2. Oh, and I also can't wait to break out of this two mile radius. You're freaking me out, New York.

Come on Sorrow, take your own advice

Neko put it so well in her song Magpie to the Morning: "Come on Sorrow, take your own advice."

Last night Roomie and I went to see Neko Case live at the Nokia Theater on Times Square. When we arrived there was a line around the block for ticket holders. I got really sad and thought, well shit! I wanted to be front row! So as we entered the venue I was prepared for the worst. But low and behold all those people waiting in line wanted the actual seated seats, not the front standing section. So Sarah and I walked right up and staked out our place.

Neko didn't start until around 9:45 (past my bed time, Neko!) but when she took the stage all signs of sleepiness vanished. She opened with "Maybe Sparrow" and then continued with songs from her new album Middle Cyclone but threw in some oldies but goodies along the way. She was perfect. Her hair was beautiful, her jeans made me jealous and her cover of Harry Nilsson's "Don't Forget Me" brought me to tears.

Please buy her new CD. She is amazing. And as Sarah and I would say: "She gets me."

Two Lovers

There is nothing better than a rainy Monday afternoon than leaving work early to go see a movie at the Sunshine Cinema in the East Village. But the film really made the experience. As mentioned in previous posts, I have a weakness for movies that take place in New York City. And this one is truly beautiful.

Post movie I grabbed an early dinner at Cafe Colonial. Their chocolate croissant bread pudding was dee-lish.

I recently got a message from a family friend in Germany who I recently updated on my life happenings. I told her in my message that I am so happy here in New York working as a waitress and just living the life I live. Her parents response to my current state: "Didn't she study?" Maybe you are feeling the same way when you read my random life stories here on this blog. Maybe you also think I am wasting away my college degree and not really working and living up to my potential. But you know what, that's fine. Because in my mind, if you don't stop to watch a movie on a rainy Monday afternoon and read the Sunday Times while eating bread pudding every once in awhile, well....then you simply aren't living.

Subway "Art"

When you ride the subway ALL the time, you tend to memorize all the ads, emergency memos, and are (sadly) pleasantly surprised when new ads appear. Your eye catches anything that seems different or new. That is why subtle subway "art" always makes my day when I see it. Take these two examples:
If you can't see this one very well there is a bumper sticker that says "teach the babies". It is covering part of the sign that says "Do not hold doors." I liked this one.
This is my favorite type of subway "art" where the "artist" carefully cuts out part of the ad and reconstructs the picture. I loved this ad initially because who doesn't LOVE soft-core Lifetime movies? But the new homo-erotic aspect makes it even more appealing.

There was another great piece of subway "art" (actually, more like vandalism) that I saw on the C train yesterday but it was too vulgar/embarrassing to photograph, much less post on this blog. I hope someone else out there saw the added commentary to the Aruba ads.

Also, riding home on the shuttle bus late last night (damn you, MTA) the windows started to fog up. The man sitting next to me started to write something in the window fog. I thought it was going to be something stupid like "fuck you!" or "MTA sucks!" but all he wrote was "LESS." Sometimes New York at 2:00 am on a crowded shuttle bus pleasantly surprises me and makes me realize I live in a pretty cool place.