While The Dishwasher Runs...

So that I can do another load, of course. As I'm sure I've remarked here, I frankly am driven nuts by Thanksgiving and am very happy when it's over, and we can get on with Christmas, which I love passionately.

It's all that damn food, you see. I love to cook, and I do it well, I cook for myself almost always...actual meals, not Lean Cuisine out of the microwave, and I cook for others. And I enjoy it thoroughly, EXCEPT FOR THANKSGIVING. There's just so much of it.

I got up at 4:30 yesterday morning, and essentially did the whole thing (for 15) totally singlehandedly (Sarah turned up later to help and did a lot of the cleanup, bless her). And people brought wonderful homemade pies. But that left me with the turkey, two kinds of stuffing, two vegetable dishes, two potato dishes (well, you have to have mashed and sweet), and the relish tray beforehand with the dips and the carrots and the cucumber spears and the olives...and thank God for leftovers because I do not want to see a lit stove for at least another week. And of course there are always minor screwups...I tend to scorch stuffing (I bake it separately for safety's sake), for instance, and I have never been able to properly time huge numbers of brussels sprouts in my life...they always end up either too crunchy or too soggy (this was a soggy year). Ah, well...I suppose this is what makes it a home cooked meal.

But I'm still really glad when it's over.

Sarah agreed with you, Texas Beth, about being too specific about the (possible) new place. But she saw my point after I explained my thinking...actually, the thinking I did after you guys called me on it.

First of all, why bother? Anybody who reads my blog knows that I am chronically broke and 65 years old. I am a lousy candidate for either robbery or rape, unless your interests lie in acquiring quite a lot of paperback books that the cat has shat on. And admittedly there's no accounting for taste, but really...this is a big city. I can get raped by anyone who sees me as a target. Knowing the block I live on doesn't affect that one way or the other.

Secondly, I dare anyone to find the actual building, which I very pointedly did NOT describe (the outside, I mean). This stretch of the East Village has very long blocks lined on both sides with almost identical buildings. Because of that, and because my hours are so extremely irregular, in order to nail me, you would have to literally walk up and down this very long block 24 hours a day looking for me. I mean hell, the one fixed point in my day is buying the morning papers...but even there, depending on when I wake up, that could be any time from 6 am to noon or later. And hoping that your john break isn't taking place just as I'm hopping into a taxi to go somewhere. Now I have a perfectly good opinion of myself, but I just can't get behind the notion of that much dedication to a cause.

And finally...I am the most social person in the world. If you want to meet me, announce in the comments that you're coming to New York and I'd be delighted to see you! I will promptly arrange to meet you at the bar where Sarah works. I know everybody in the place...at the slightest sign of anything off base, there is a whole gang of people watching my back and ready to go to bat for me...and I NEVER invite someone I've just met to my house, unless it's someone who is coming with a bunch of people we know in common. Last night our friend Shai, for instance, brought his new roommate and her boyfriend, whom I'd never met (they're darling people).

So there you have it. And Beth...when are you coming to NY? I'll meet you at Sarah's bar!

Love, Wendy