Escape

I am not, generally, the kind of woman who buys a snake-print string bikini and plans to wear it in public.

However.

N is taking me on a last-minute, whirlwind trip to Miami next weekend, and I when I tried on the swimsuit at N's half-joking urging...well, it looked damn good. I decided that, just for next weekend, and just for fun, I am going to be the kind of woman who wears a snake-print bikini and mugs for the digital camera and French-kisses with gusto and abandon in front of throngs of strangers.

Keyed Up

I don't have a lot in common with the Westchester baby-track set, but I do like to bake. There's something comforting to me about knowing that if I put a set few ingredients together in exactly the right measurements and combination, I will get something delicious as a result. It's quite calming, actually.

So, today, inspired by my recent weekend trip to Miami, I clicked on a little Food Network for background noise and set about making a Key lime pie. I found the recipe on the adorable blog Laura Rebecca's Kitchen, and she got the recipe from a place in Key West called Pepe's. You can't get much more authentic than that.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time I made a pie, but I had a glass pie plate in my cupboard and everything, and that alone made me happy. Turns out, baking a Key lime pie is not as hard as one would think. Preparing the graham cracker crust is easy (and eventually delicious), and making the filling is equally easy, especially if you have this weird sex-toy-looking device for juicing limes called a citrus reamer that my coworker lent me.

Even though I managed to use every bowl I own in order to properly prepare everything that needed to be mixed, combined, separated, and juiced, the whole process took maybe an hour and a half tops. That's reasonable for a homemade dessert. (Hint: To better simulate the flavor of Key limes, I juiced two regular limes and half of one lemon. Made the whole thing a little more tart.)

The finished product:











Ahhhhh, sweet success. Not quite as good as the pie I had at Grillfish restaurant in Miami, but not bad coming from a tiny kitchen in Manhattan:

Off the Wagon

Here in the city, there's actually a bar named Off the Wagon, so maybe I should have gone there for my inaugural drink last weekend. Instead, I celebrated seven days of sobriety at a new Irish pub in my 'hood (not my usual hangout, the Bar that Shall Not Be Named) that has karaoke on Sundays. I sipped my Bud Light draft(s), chatted up some interesting fellows at the bar, including a fabulously good-looking chef, and sang the following songs:

"Black Velvet," by Alannah Myles
"My Favorite Mistake," by Sheryl Crow
"Why," by Annie Lennox (kind of a downer, but the crowd was sweet and attentive nonetheless)
"Don't Stop Believin'," by Journey

I felt my night was a rousing success and a fantastic entree back into the world of booze. It's my goal to respect the drink -- to harness its power and keep the abuse to a minimum. In the week that I've returned to drinking, I've only done a couple of dumb things -- namely frequenting the Bar that Shall Not Be Named a couple of times and sending some ill-advised text messages to a certain Brazilian bartender who's not having any of it.

But I'm working at getting past this awkward life stage.

I am trying -- as hard as possible, after this breakup and during this new life that I'm carving out for myself -- to be normal, which, for me, Jane, is sometimes hard. Much like the drink, I'm learning to respect my individuality and my quirkiness -- to understand when it works for me and cut it off when I go into overdrive. It's exciting, being single: I have new interests and new likes that I'm not sure would have been possible had life not been stripped down to its barest: just me.

So (because I'm such a huge fan of lists) here is what I'm digging right now -- what I've discovered now that I'm on my own and learning to get along with that:

New favorite bar: the Russian Vodka Room
- Stepping inside is like transporting yourself into the 1940s -- or the 1950s, at the very latest. They have a piano player who sings songs in Russian and a sweet veteran female bartender who will bring you a new drink, no questions asked, if you accidentally spill yours. (Not that I would know this firsthand.)

New favorite musician: Feist
- Check her out on iTunes. I'm listening to her newest album for the first time as I type this, and it's fantastic.

Old favorite musician who's going to blow up huge in no time flat: Sara Bareilles
- I saw her at the Bowery Ballroom a couple of weeks ago, and she's rapidly developing a fanbase that will preclude her from appearing at any more small venues for the rest of her career. I'm happy for her, but I'm sad that she's not my obscure little piano gal anymore. She's opening for Maroon 5 this summer, and I consider that a nail in the indie coffin.

New favorite vacation destination: Miami
- Can't remember the last time I took a vacation that didn't involve going to see relatives. A girlfriend from work and I are buying our tickets tomorrow for a trip to a place I've only fantasized about going. And the hotel looks beautiful and inviting.

New favorite TV show: Mad Men
- There are so many amazing things about this show that I can't enumerate them all here. This is AMC's original series about Madison Avenue ad execs in 1960, and it leaves nothing untouched, including the rampant sexism and racism of the period. Love the costumes, love the actors, love everything about it. It reminds me a little of one of my favorite books, The Best of Everything.

What fun things are you guys obsessed with right now? Do share if you feel so inclined.


And, of course, listen to Blogstein and me keep on rockin' in the free world Tuesday night at 9 on Blog Talk Radio. We'll be expecting you, so show up on time, pen and paper in hand, ready to take notes.