The Mini Me

I have one older brother.

Naturally, being the little one in the family, I just idolized him.

Dana could do no wrong ( yeah, my mom also has a thing for unisex names... she's weird).

Anything he did, I wanted to do.

He wanted to be a ninja turtle, Sydney wanted to be a ninja turtle.

Dana ate a hot dog, Sydney definitely wanted a hot dog too. If he had decided

that he was going to get a mullet, walk around on one foot while singing stupid songs and
 clanging pots together, welp, you better bet your ass I was gonna be

right there with him. As we got older, this

phase of wanting to be like him didn't wane. He wanted
"mens" to play with (aka G.I. Joe's), then I totally wanted them too!

I mean, if Dana was doing it, Dana... the man, the myth, the legend
(at least thats how my little brain saw him) then I was hooked on it too.

Yet, as we got older, he got too "cool" to have his six year old

sister lagging behind him all the time. With my super sweet tie dye

jumpsuits (everyone was super jealous), imprinted with a disney princess on the top (Ariel, all day),
paired with my big blue eyes in an even bigger head
and little blonde ringlets falling everywhere.

You can see why he would be embarrassed... totally not cool for his "street cred"
or whatever it is that 9 year olds have.

Naturally, He began excluding me *insert sad sigh here*.

So when that infamous night, where he asked if I wanted to play finally rolled around,

I said HELL YES! Well, not really, but that's the phrase equivalent of how excited I was.

Little did I know what was in store for me... These were the days when

he was big into the WWF (World Wide Wrestling Federation for you ninnies who don't know). 

"Alright Sydney, Just stand at the edge of the couch and don't move!"
*Vigorously Nods Head* Proceeds to assume the aforementioned position.

I totally had no idea what was going on.

I mean, I didn't really care... my big brother wanted me to hang out with him!
This was the best day of my little life.

All of the sudden, I see a blur of movement from across

the room. Time started to go very slowly as I watched him move
toward me, it was like a panther going in for the attack.
Sheer determination and grit.

And, that's when I felt it... his forearm connected right with my throat.

"And she's down with a CLOSE LINE to the throat by the Mighty Dana Warrior"

Sidebar:
Ultimate Warrior was his dude back in the day!
Now, I don't know about all that. Stone Cold was kind of in his prime
back in these days and I must say the stunner was just too
effective. But, I will let his lack of good judgement slide.

I heard ringing in my head as my tiny body is being hurtled through the air into
the back couch cushions.

That's when the tears started.  Pouring down my face like the breaking of a dam.
As he stands over me, the triumphant winner he looks down, pointing,
and says it's time for the champ to "finish him"!

Giving a diving aerial jump off the ropes with a little peoples elbow for flare. 

BOOM!
 (If you aren't a big WWE person, it's basically, he body slams his body
onto me with his elbow to my gut.)

That's when shit got real....

Out came Sydney Hulk! *Cue Mortal Kombat theme song*

Little, ol blue angel eyes, stands up and opens a great big can of whoop ass

on Mighty Dana Warrior. Circa, my fav, the one and only, Mr. Stone Cold Steve Austin!

Kidding.... I actually just stood up and let him close line me again

and then he taught me how to do it myself.

That is the story of how I became a Wrestling Aficionado.

And, that is my totally pointless family bonding story!



Oh Melodies

Most of my stories revolve around work and commuting.

I guess because I am now one of "those people". Ya know, the drone-y

ones who spend their lives sleeping and working because they are too tired

and/or lazy (mostly the second one in my case) to do anything else.

If you actually take the time to stop and look

 at what is going on around you, you realize that,

everyone is absolutely absorbed in their phones, Ipads, or kindles.

When you actually do stumble upon the person who isn't absorbed in some electronic

device they are either one of three things:
A) Really weird and probably a serial killer or kidnapper in the making,
(Cause naturally that's totally the first thing people would assume, am I right?!)

B) Seriously old and have no idea what those "thingers" are, or
C) a child (The still not having teeth, drool all the time kind, naturally.)

I mean, how anyone can actually get through a commute without

using some kind of music is something I truly can NOT comprehend.

My brain can't wrap itself around the concept.

So, basically, all that was some unnecessary hoopla that leads us to my actual story.

I can't go anywhere without my music, it just gets that extra pep in my step.

I always find myself walking in time to the beat, sometimes

when I am feeling super cool and daring I will challenge myself to walk

out of step with the beat. Naturally, I always fail...miserably.

So one particular day, as I was droning my way down the street like the rest of these

workaholic New York electronic addicted zombies, I found myself utterly exhausted from a long day

of doing absolutely nothing. Eventually, I made it through the throngs of obnoxious

peppy people in Grand Central to my train.

Almost immediately when I take my seat my eyes close and I just start to lose

myself in my music. Tapping my foot, doing a tiny hip shake... nothing that will draw

too much attention to myself. I pretend that's true at least.

Anyway, I got so lost in my own head and mouthing the

words to the songs that I just completely forget where I am.

That was until I open my eyes and realize that I was just singing & dancing to Justin Bieber....

OUT LOUD.

That whole entire time, I was "mouthing" the words... I was actually singing.

I was absolutely mortified. I couldn't look at anyone after that.

Naturally, I started sitting in a different train car from that day forward.

So I don't have to see the "regulars" who had to bare witness

to such an unforgivable mishap.

Apple Strudel

I was a bit bored and started searching around for something I wanted to try

to cook. Really this is a horrible idea considering at the moment I am starving and

everything looks supremely scrumptious.

I was just drawn to this Apple Strudel recipe. I blame it

on the hunger, but I think this will be my next project to try out.

 

(copyright of paula deen)

 

Ingredients:

    - 1/4 cup bourbon or apple juice

    - 1/2 cup golden raisins

    - 2 to 3 Granny Smith apples (peeled, cored, halved, sliced thin)

    - 1/2 lemon (juiced)

    - 1 tablespoon lemon zest (fine)

    - 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

    - 1/2 cup brown sugar (packed)

    - 1/2 cup crushed shortbread cookies

    - 1/4 cup chopped pecans

    - 2 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces

    - 5 sheets phyllo dough from 1 pound package of frozen dough

    - 2 tablespoons butter (melted for brushing phyllo)

    - 1 tablespoon granulated sugar

    - Confectioners Sugar

    - Caramel Sauce (purchase)

 

Glaze:

    - 2 cups confectioners sugar

    - 3 1/2 tablespoons milk

 

 

Directions:

 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

 

In a small bowl pour bourbon (or apple juice) over raisians and microwave on high for 45 seconds. After, let them sit for about 15 minutes.

 

Remove the phyllo dough from the box, unfold and make sure to coverw ith a damp cloth or towel.

 

Take one sheet of phyllo dough and brush with melted butter. Make sure to do light strokes. Repeat this with the remaining sheets and stacking them when done.

 

Next, Place the apple mixture on the nearest third of the phyllo stack, being sure to leave a 2-inch border. Gently lift the bottom edge of the phyllo stack to cover the filling and fold the side edges over. Continue to roll the stack away from you until the filling is completely sealed in and the seam is on the bottom. Transfer to the prepared baking sheet. Brush the top with melted butter and sprinkle with granulated sugar.

 

Bake off for 30 minutes. The strudel should be a golden brown color.

Pour glaze over and sprinkle with a bit of extra cinnamon.

 

For the glaze just add the ingredients together until mixed thoroughly. If the glaze seems to be too thick add a little bit of milk to thin it out.

 

 

 

 

(all of this came from Paula Deen.com)





Bare Burger

I have a craving y'all. A craving for a Bare Burger.

 

 

It's bad... and I know you are all sitting there thinking

"It's 10 am...What is wrong with you?"

Well if you are, then you OBVIOUSLY haven't tasted this slice of heaven.

So... I decided since I can't haul my butt all the way to Chelsea I would write about it

and let my self fantasize about actually eating said burger.

 

I was first introduced to Bare Burger this past summer by one of my

best friend's who took me there for a birthday lunch!

The day started out rainy and with me in a kind of piss poor mood.

I was excited to see my friend but I was turning 23 and of course it had to pour

when my friend and I had big plans to go thrift store hunting around the city.

Naturally, I was seriously bummed about that.

When I finally made my way into the city and we decided against doing our adventure,

She said she had found this restaurant on yelp and decided

we needed to try it out.

Boy, am I glad that she did. It's a GEM!

 

 

Will everyone just take a second and stare at that picture.

That perfectly toasted multi-grain bun, with the lightly charred burger

melted cheese, onions and lettuce for an added crunch.

Then you get to those fries, the perfect combination of crispy and soft centered.

 All which makes for a beyond heavenly, mouth watering experience.

And YES, people this is not just a quick bite, this is an EXPERIENCE.

 

 

 

To top it all off EVERYTHING is organic. Not just the grass fed meats or the all natural cheeses mind you. Everything, everything. From tables, chairs, even the floors

and right on down to the toilet paper.

If this place wasn't amazing enough as it is, the staff was so friendly and extremely attentive was

just the cherry on top of an amazing birthday afternoon.

They even gave me free ice cream with a cute little candle and sang happy birthday.

Mind you, I don't like ice cream but it was still the sweetest thing ever.

 

(This is classified as the worlds WORST photo of me ever. Look of a happy gremlin.)

 

 

 

 

(Notice, none of these pictures are mine. I found them on google since I took no pictures of my own.

if you know who they belong to please let me know & I will gladly give credit. )

 



Rantings, Ravings and Rudeness

Here goes nothing y'all. I need to complain, I promise

that I will try my utmost to not do this often. This has just been slowly getting

to me and I feel like if I don't say something I might just boil over.
Not to mention it's pretty crappy weather
and it just makes it easier to succumb to bad moods.

 

I realized something recently, more specifically this past weekend. On Saturday I was in

a cab on my way to Grand Central, when the cabbie asked me what I did for

a living. Immediately my first thought was to make something up. Something that sounded

cool and as if I was doing something "worthwhile". I didn't want that pitying look

that seems to come every time I tell the truth or the ever present
condescending statement "oh.... that's nice".

As if they had really high hopes for me and I let them down with my admission.
It's absurd.

 

I was astonished and ashamed of myself. I have no reason to be ashamed. I am a receptionist / administrative assistant. That is nothing for me to feel bad about. How dare I let anyone make me feel

less than because they somehow believe my current job is "simple" or makes me

"simple". Who are they to judge me and what I do?

 

Do I have the ability to do something more "difficult", even more time consuming? Yeah, sure I do. Here's the thing... I love my job. I work with an absolutely amazing group of people.

It's astonishing really because each person in the office is smart, kind and truly funny. I actually enjoy when I get into the office. Yes, I answer phones, do lots of spreadsheets, take messages and do jobs that would generally be considered monotonous, but so what?

 

 I mean, I have a job. I get paid a salary and work with people I enjoy.

 How many people can say that? Not many, sadly. I am thankful. So frigging thankful.

For the opportunity, for having the chance to meet these people, to

be able to be closer to some of my friends.

 

I hate that I ever let anyone make me think there was something wrong with what I do.

That ends now... Right? I think that's a good plan.

(My super cool desk)

Take a minute to get Inspired!

I have a habit (obsession) with collecting quotes. Multiple notebooks later

and my desk being a clutter of various papers and post-its full of them

my boss has caught on. She left me this gem yesterday and I wanted to share with all of you.

 

(This picture is not mine, found it on google.)

 

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

 

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

 

As far as possible, without surrender,

be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;

and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant,

they too have their story.

Avoid loud and agressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

 

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession

in the changing fortunes of time.

 

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons

strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feing affection.

Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity

and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

 

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering

the things of youth.

Nuture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

 

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe

is unfolding as it should.

 

Therefor be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,

and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life,

keep peace in your soul.

 

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

 

Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

 



Strangers....

Today started off pretty unconventional... and as luck would have it, it stayed that way.

Well that was until I hopped onto the train for the ride home.

I was just sitting in my seat, getting into the grove of the music and writing away

in my journal, oblivious to the world around me.

Luckily,  I managed to snap out of my trance right when the trained came to my stop.

So, I get off and I was feeling good. I was digging my music,

Stevie Wonder pumping me up with some "Isn't She Lovely" as I descended into the parking

lot where I would be picked up. I mean, I even felt cute. My legs felt long because

of the leather wedge strappy heels I was wearing and the black and white

animal dress that cinches my waist in JUST the right place for that hourglass affect.

 Pair that with my super bad ass leather jacket and a scarf and I was feeling good. 

I was walking with my chin up, shoulders back and a sway to my hips

that showed people that I was important! (Aka that they should just watch out for 

me because I might run them over in my attempt at having "swag" or whatever). It was kind of like

out of the movies, opening scene, camera pans from feet up woman's legs 

who's walking down the street in a billowing dress, hair blowing in the wind to a really catchy

tune. Except, for the simple fact that she is actually cool. 

Turns out, me, not so much. 

Anyway, as I was saying, I was feeling good. I spotted my ride and it was in the prime location,

right at the entrance to the lot, driver facing the exit so we could have a quick

getaway and avoid all traffic. I'm even happier now. I get to the car, hop in buckle my seat belt and start to say hello after I had finished my final bit of singing to good ol' Stevie, when the little boy in 

the passengers seat turns around and starts waving.

uhhh.....what?.... I don't know any toddlers.

I WAS IN THE WRONG CAR!

(I have totally done this before, New Years of 2009 I believe. Right Stacey?!)

I felt like such an idiot! The toddler was the sweetest little thing, but obviously the look of murder and shock on the mothers wasn't so pleasant. I unbuckled my seat belt, all the while stammering

my apologies and how I didn't realize it the was the wrong car... "insert babbling apology here".

End of story...

I am an ignoramus... fact.