Lesson learned

I knew there was a reason why I never drive into NYC - it's a traffic nightmare! But I thought it would be a good idea to drive into Brooklyn the other weekend.

The original plan was to take the train into NYC, then the subway to Brooklyn. But when my GPS told me I was only 35 minutes from Brooklyn (I was in Woodbridge, NJ at the time), I decided to drive. Plus, I wouldn't have to spend $13.75 on a round-trip ticket.

Because the weather was nice, everyone was out, so my 35-minute trip turned into an hour in the car. And once I got into Brooklyn, parking was limited. After driving around for about 15 minutes, I found a spot about a half mile from my destination and parked at the meter. I was so frustrated by the time I found the spot, that I didn't check to see if parking was free on the weekends. I guess I was used to the nice gesture because most NJ meters are free on the weekend.

But when I got back to my car a couple of hours later, I was greeted by a bright orange NYC parking ticket! The fine was $35. So my economical way of getting to NYC turned out to be $35 plus, gas, tolls and the stamp needed to mail the ticket!

Lesson learned. Public transportation is the way to go.

What's with portions these days?

I love food and I  admit, sometimes I let the rules of portion control fly out of the window.

But I was shocked at the amount of French fries that come in a large order at Five Guys Burgers and Fries. I'd been craving beef all week, something that rarely happens, and after hearing that First Lady Michelle Obama snuck out of the White House to Five Guys, I decided I wanted a burger, too. Talk about the power of persuasion! 

I had never been to Five Guys before and hardly ever treat myself to fast food, so I was really excited Sunday when my husband and I went. We both ordered bacon cheeseburgers, which came with two patties (I removed one) and we shared a large fry.

Now, when Phillip came to the table with the food, that's served in brown paper bags, the bag was already greasy. Not a good sign. Phillip opened the bag and saw a mountain of fries. He couldn't even see the burgers! The fries were served in a Styrofoam cup that looked like it was about 12 ounces, but then there were fries just poured in the bag - enough to fill another 12 ounce cup! It was literally enough fries for six adults.

America is the fattest country in the world because we've let our portions get out of control.

There is no reason why a large fry should comfortably feed six. And it's not just Five Guys that's the culprit. Super-sized portions are in just about every restaurant and grocery store.

According to the New Hampshire Department of Health and Human Services, portions have grown tremendously over the last 20 years. A bagel in 1989 was 3 inches wide and 140 calories. Today's bagel is double the width and 350 calories. A cheeseburger 20 years ago was 333 calories. Today, that cheeseburger will cost you 590 calories. A serving of spaghetti and meatballs in 1989 was one cup of spaghetti and three meatballs, totaling 500 calories. Today, it's two cups of spaghetti and three meatballs, equalling 1025 calories. I'm surprised the number of meatballs didn't increase! And an average-sized bottled soda, which, in my opinion, is just wasted calories, was 6.5 ounces and 85 calories. Today's bottle averages 20 ounces and 250 calories.

Half a regular order of Five Guys' fries, which the restaurant considers one serving, is 310 calories. I wish I would have known this when we ordered the large.

We need to reign it in, folks! Our portions have gotten out of control as have our waistlines.

And if you're wondering, we did not eat all of the fries! We barely put a dent in them.

Ask and you shall receive

My doorbell rang yesterday, and when I opened it, there was a teenage girl standing there.

She asked if that was my red BMW in the driveway and I told her yes. She then started explaining that her prom is May 16 and the colors are red and white and she wanted to know if she could drive my car to the prom.

What?!

Now, I didn't know this girl and even if I did, I would not have let a teenager drive my car - which still have the drive-out tags in the window - anywhere!

Once the shock wore off, I mustered a "No, I'm sorry." And she just walked away.

It was the oddest request I've ever had in my life.

But once this girl left, I started thinking that it was really ballsy of her to walk up to my door, ring the bell and ask such a question of a stranger. She must have the all-she-can-do-is-say-no mentality. And then I thought, good for her. 

I have that mentality, too. My mother taught me to always ask for what I want, because, in the end, all people can do is say no. And sometimes, you get a "yes." But I ask within reason.

Even though this teen's request was totally out of the question, I hope she continues to ask for what she wants in life, because eventually, she will get a yes! 

Shoe Shame

I'm the first to admit when I have a problem.

I have a problem. There, I admitted it.

And it's shoes. 

I have too many. Some might say it's a blessing when you can open your closet and have actually think about which pair you're going to don that day. It is, but it becomes a problem when you're finding shoes in your closet that you don't remember buying, have never worn or forgotten that you have.

That happened to me two weeks ago. I was putting together an outfit for The Links' Greater NY Chapter's 60th Annual Easter Luncheon and Fashion Show and found a pair of never-worn, don't-remember-when-I-bought-them shoes! I opened the box and the Paolo Brooklyn Silver Patent pair looked familiar, but don't ask me when I bought them.

And then, there's the pair of Betsy Johnson Reese shoes that I pined after for months because I didn't want to pay the $150 pricetag, finally ordered then, got them, loved them, but have never worn them. They've been in my closet for at least six months, but probably longer!

Yes, I have a problem.

And another problem with having too many pairs of shoes is how to store them. I like to keep the boxes, so the shoes won't be just thrown in the closet. But what happens when you start throwing the boxes in the closet? Chaos!

I had had enough of opening my closet door and seeing the horrible mess of shoes at the bottom. Some of the boxes were vertical, some horizontal, some of the recently-worn shoes hadn't made it back into the boxes. So, this morning, I pulled out everything, set aside the pairs for Goodwill that I know I will never wear again, and organized the keepers.

My closet looks much better now - as you can see from the before and after pics. Next, I must tackle my clothes!

Grilled Cheese and Pickles

I've always tried to never judge a book by its cover, and today, my stomach benefited from the open mindedness.

I spent the day in Fort Green, Brooklyn at the Brooklyn Flea, a flea market held every Saturday and Sunday (in Dumbo) from April through the fall. There were tons of vendors selling vintage items from broaches to bicycles. And like most flea markets - especially the outdoor ones - there was food.

I passed Saxelby Cheesemongers' stand with its long line of people waiting for grilled cheese and pickle sandwiches several times before I decided that the pressed sandwiches must be good. I love grilled cheese and I like pickles, but never thought to combine the two. But the treat that awaited me today was simple savory goodness.

I was in line for 20 minutes, in the hot sun (it was near 80 degrees and you see I'm already complaining about the weather) for this sandwich that was served on ciabatta bread. It was definitely worth the wait. The crunchy bread, spicy pickles and soft, stretchy cheese was a true delight!

Keep an open mind and get a treat!

Easter Sunday

Happy Easter!

It happens without fail - every year those C.M.E. (Christmas, Mother's Day and Easter) folks show up at church. Our church is a five-minute drive from our house, including parking. But knowing that we would have tons of "visitors" today, the plan was to leave earlier than usual to make sure we were able to sit in our regular seats.

For some reason, that I won't get into in my blog to spare the embarrassment of a certain someone (but it had to do with a slow poke who had trouble tying his bowtie) we left home 10 minutes later than planned. The streets were clogged. The parking lots were full. By the time we made it into the church, the choir was already singing. And as if we needed another sign that our usual seats had already been taken, there was a line of people waiting to get into the sanctuary. 

The lower level was full and we were asked to find a seat in the balcony. We've never sat in the balcony before and I was upset that we were forced to sit there on Easter Sunday with the other late people. As we sat on the second level, my eyes moved down to the main level, trying to see who was sitting in "my" seat. We don't have assigned seats at church, but most people do sit in at least the same row every Sunday.

After enviously looking down at the people who were on time enough to get a good seat, I glared at the people sitting around us, wondering how many were actually regulars or C.M.E. visitors. I also glared at the bowtie man who made us late.

Then, it dawned on me that I was sitting in church on Easter Sunday angry. I had forgotten that God didn't have to wake me up this morning to even see another Easter Sunday. I had forgotten that it's a blessing every time someone has the desire to attend church, whether they are a regular or C.M.E. visitor. I was giving the devil glory by sitting in church mad that we had to sit in the balcony, taking all the glory away from God.

I relaxed and took a deep breath and spent the rest of the service honoring the Man I was there for. 

Happy Easter!

Car Craze

I've become one of them - one of those drivers who parks their car at the far end of the parking lot to avoid other cars.

I picked up my new car, a BMW 328i red coupe, Tuesday and have been loving it ever since. I love my car so much that I want to protect her from dings and dents from careless drivers who don't appreciate her perfection. I used to make fun of people who parked their cars far from the entrance, away from other cars, so much so, I would park my car right next to their car just to irk them.

But since Tuesday, I found myself parking at the end of civilization. It first happened at my church, where I volunteer two days a week. I drove into the parking lot and subconsciously passed the cars and a few open parking spaces that were close to the door. I stopped at the last spot and pulled in. I kind of laughed, but thought Scarlet, that's what I named her, would be safer there.

Then, I went to the grocery store, where I normally always try to park close to the door. But I immediately pulled into one of the last spots in a row. There was another BMW parked close by, but still away from the other cars.

And yesterday, when I arrived at the gym, I passed several good spaces to park Scarlet at the end of the lot. There was a BMW 6-series also parked at the end, but the driver parked catty-corner taking up two spaces to make sure no one would park next to the car. I haven't gone that far - yet.

I'm wondering how long this behavior will last, how long the car will feel new and special to me? I hope always.