Weekend in Philly

You know those weekends where everything goes terribly, horribly wrong?

People don’t show up. Traffic is terrible so the people who do show up are late. The restaurant you picked is full. The back-up restaurant has lousy service and bad food. Everyone wants to do different things so you end up spending half an hour standing in parking lot debating what to do next and you end up all going in different directions anyway. The ONLY museum you want to go to is closed and you ended up just staring at it before you wander away to the nearest Starbucks. Then you consume too much food and take too little insulin, which leaves your blood sugar hovering near the moon and you’re even more pissed.

Yeah. Those weekends suck.

This, however, was not one of those weekends.

Honestly, everything about this weekend went exactly the way it was supposed to, which makes me the happiest person in the universe.

On Saturday morning, I drove down to Philadelphia to have lunch with some of the coolest, craziest cats in the diabetes community. I arrived at a nearly empty Applebee’s, which was great because it made getting a table for nine people very easy! Soon after, Gary Scheiner arrived, followed by Emily, a friend of Kelly’s, who is studying to be a nurse and is interested in learning more about living with diabetes. So of course she was welcomed! Kelly arrived shortly after that. Then Scott and Joe arrived, along with Hannah and her husband, Matt, followed by Betty.

Getting a group of diabetics (and a handful of T3s) is always a recipe for lively discussion. We spent over three hours at Applebee’s talking about everything from health professionals who irritate us to misconceptions that work to our advantage (using diabetes to get a table faster or getting a handicap pass at an amusement park) to Kelly and Scott sharing their experiences of growing up in the early 80s with diabetes (oh the horrors!).

We laughed, we debated, and we took pictures!

(from the lower left-hand corner going clockwise) Betty, Emily, Kelly, Gary, Scott, me, Hannah and Matt.

After lunch, we all split up in various directions. Hannah, Kelly and I went back to her apartment in South Philly after making plans to meet Scott and Joe for dinner on South Street. We wandered around South Street for a bit, poking our heads into some of the cheap jewelry stores, killing time until Scott and Joe arrived. Around seven o’clock, we walked over to the Marrakesh, the Morrocan restaurant we were supposed to meet at. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. Kelly rang the doorbell - no answer. We stood across the street, plotting a way to break into the restaurant (I suggested climbing through the upstairs window), when we saw Scott and Joe come around the corner. Joe went up to the door and knocked. A lady opened the door.

Apparently they just didn’t like us.

Morrocan food is amazing but it was a ton of food. A seven course meal that included chicken, lamb, salad, couscous, fruit and baklava - all accompanied by their pita bread - had us eating more carbohydrates than I typically eat in an entire day! We shared more experiences growing up with diabetes. But it wasn’t all diabetes, all the time! We were also thoroughly entertained when the bellydancer came around.

Hannah and the bellydancer.

After dinner, we waddled back to Kelly’s apartment through the Italian Market. We were so bloated with food that we felt like we were pregnant. Kelly joked that we had “food babies.” When we got back to the apartment, we quickly looked up directions to the studio where Hannah’s husband was recording with his band. We hoped in our car and made our way back to Ardmore, just a couple miles away from where we had lunch and a stone’s throw from Gary’s office (we waved as we past it). As we drove through the mean streets of Ardmore, which involved us passing our turn not once, but twice, we eventually found the studio down a little driveway off a mostly unpaved road. It wasn’t exactly the easiest place to get to, but having those few extra hours with Hannah was so much fun.

Kelly and I slept in on Sunday and after a quick breakfast, we went to check out Independence Hall, which is one of the last few historical landmarks that I hadn’t been to on the East Coast. When we arrived, we stumbled upon a sign that said “NO MORE TICKETS ON SALE TODAY” and we were immediately crestfallen. I was thwarted once again. But then! A man appeared! Okay, he didn’t appear, he was the security officer and was standing there the entire time. He asked us when we were leaving. Kelly replied, “She’s leaving today.” A woman was standing next to him and said that some people didn’t show up, ripped off two tickets from her little booklet and handed them to us. It was obviously meant to be.

I left later that afternoon, quickly stopping by Bank of America and a gas station (yes, I pumped my own gas and this time I didn’t even ask for help!). Traffic was a bit nasty so I didn’t get home until nearly four hours after leaving Kelly’s, but I also stopped at one of the service stations so it wasn’t completely traffic’s fault. I was still home before eight, which meant I had time to upload all the pictures and watch Army Wives.

Summer Plans.

I’ve been babbling for awhile now about all the places I’m going this summer. While I’m very excited about it all, I realized that I have absolutely no idea what anyone else is doing this summer. I remember when I was in high school and college, discussion about summer plans were pretty much non-stop the two weeks before school got out. But now, being a working girl and all, vacations are sort of randomly placed throughout the year.

Despite this, I know some of you have to be doing something cool this summer. So on the eve of my return to Oregon, I’d like to hear from you: where are you going? Who are you going with? What are you planning on doing? And most importantly of all: you wanna buy me a shotglass?

The picture of Portland (with Mt. Hood in the back) that I have as my laptop’s background.

My First Trip to the First State

Rehoboth Beach is, uh, really far. Although Mapquest told me how far Rehoboth Beach is from where I live in north Jersey, I was absolutely convinced that it was wrong and was closer that it really is. My advice is to always believe Mapquest and to plan accordingly. But even though it’s not that close, the extra fifty miles was completely worth it.

The weather could not have been better. It was sunny, with just a hint of puffy white clouds dotting the sky in the morning before clearing out to solid blue. It was small group of us that congregated in Rehoboth Beach - Heidi from D-Log Cabin, Katie from TuDiabetes and her husband, and Betty, a longtime member of DiabetesTalkfest, and her husband and myself. We met at a cafe just off the main boulevard and chatted about our experiences with diabetes, life on the East Coast and the upcoming diabetes conferences (anyone else going to Friends for Life?). Afterwards, we headed to the beach and strolled up and down the boardwalk, chatting while we checked out stores and stopping at benches to test our blood sugar. We also talked about the reason we were all there: the impact that meeting other people has on our lives and our self-esteem in handling this disease and how important it is to educate others through blogs, social networks and events.

So many people have said how meeting others with diabetes and how seeing people opening test their blood sugar or bolus for lunch changes the way they see their own diabetes. This is why it is so important for me to have these meet-ups or attend diabetes events and encourage people to come too. This summer I’ll either be attending diabetes events or hosting my own and in the next couple of days I will be posting the dates and locations for all of these.

It wasn’t until I started attending diabetes events that I really became passionate about diabetes advocacy and felt motivated to make a difference. For most of my life, I didn’t like talking about diabetes any more than I need to and I didn’t face any discrimination or additional health issues that other people with diabetes face. But being around others with diabetes made me realize that this disease affects us differently and with each new person I meet, I meet another reason to speak up, to educate and to advocate for a cure.

So to Heidi, Katie, Betty and the dozens of other people I have met and will meet: Thank you.

Heidi, me, Katie, Betty and John
(kudos to Katie’s husband Charlie for taking the picture!)

Playing Tour Guide.

On Saturday, I took the train into the city to meet up with Jon Schlaman, co-founder of Diabetes Talkfest. It was definitely not the great day weather-wise for a day out (and considering how sunny it was on Sunday, I’m kicking myself for not double-checking the forecast). But we managed to have quite a fun time seeing some tourist attraction and actually going on Saturday worked out because I was able to go to church - which I really liked! yay! - and I managed to get everything off my list. My bangs are cut, I worked a bit more on my freelance article, I went grocery shopping and bought my mother’s present for Mother’s Day. Very productive indeed!

Anyway, on to the recap:

We met at Penn Station and walked up through Times Square and over to Ninth Avenue to lunch. After a quick bite to eat and a long discussion about the future of Diabetes Talkfest, we walked down Seventh Avenue after deciding to try going to the top of the Empire State Building. But right as we walked past 42nd, I spotted Madame Tussauds. We decided to check it out. I wasn’t sure if spending that much money in a museum full of wax celebrities would be that much fun, but man, this is definitely going on my Things to Do When Schlepping Tourists Around NYC List! Jon took out some of his anger on Bill Gates, I modeled for Annie Leibowitz, I rocked out with the Spice Girls, we said hi to the Clintons, I got some comedy tips from Lucille Ball and even my boyfriend came!

Afterwards, we waited in the longest line in the world to go to the top of the Empire State Building. It was far too cold and we really should have skipped it (or been smart and checked the forecast), but it was still amazing to be that high up off the earth and to see so far. You could even see the lights from Giant Stadium, which is next to where I work. Sadly, my camera ran out of batteries so I have no proof that I was actually up there, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

When we were done, we headed back down and hopped on the subway to Queens where we had Thai with Scott Strumello and then walked over to his apartment where I got to meet Phyllis, his adorable cat. I also saw the most amazing contraption in the history of the world.

A personal soda machine.

It’s amazing.

I want one.

Merry Month of May.

I love May.

Ever since I can remember, May has been one of my favorite months. It’s the month where the cold weather streak snaps (supposedly) and at least in Oregon, it’s the time when our marathon weeks of overcast skies and rain slow down and become more sporadic. May is more relaxed and being the last month before school got out, most of us were more comfortable slacking off a little bit more. We spent more time hanging out on the back porch of our favorite coffeeshop in Eugene, Espresso Roma, where everyone liked to congregate between classes to drink coffee, play chess and chat.

Of course, now that I’m a big person, there’s no summer break for me but I’m still enjoying seeing more sunny days and warmer weather. I would appreciate it even more if Mother Nature cooperated and quit with the rain completely, but I’ll take what I can get.

May looks to be a pretty good month so far. This weekend, Jon Schlaman, co-founder of Diabetes Talkfest is in town, so I’m heading into the city to play tour guide for awhile. Next week is JDRF’s Spring for a Cure fundraiser, which is the first JDRF event that I’ve actually paid to attend, believe it or not. I actually felt quite grown-up being able to afford the $100 entrance fee without having to rely on my back-up plan of volunteering for registration and then quietly sneaking away to enjoy the party. Later in the month are dinners with friends and of course, our first summer meet-up in Delaware (email for details).

All of this leads up to the grand finale which is I’M GOING HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My younger brother is graduating from high school on June 6th. :: sniff sniff :: My little baby’s all growed up… Anyway. I’m flying to Oregon on May 31 which gives me a full week in Oregon. I’m actually working remotely from home, as I am speaking to a few public relations classes at my alma mater, the University of Oregon. I’m not entirely sure how I convinced them I’m qualified to mold young minds, but apparently they’ve given me the power so I’m taking it!

I think it’s safe to say that it’s going to be a good month.

This photo was actually taken in October, but with all the evergreen trees we have, there isn’t much of a difference between summer and winter in most parts of Oregon.

In Bloom.

After six months of cold temperatures and drizzly skies, this was the first weekend I spent in Manhattan where I wasn’t dashing from building to building, using the heat from a boutique to defrost my fingers.

Waking up at the ungodly hour of eight in the morning (well, ungodly for a weekend), I took the train into Manhattan for my workshop. I met another girl from Jersey there, so after the workshop, we decide to wander around the city.

Being that it was the first really warm day we have had in a good long while, we thought a stroll through Central Park would be perfect.

Now, I have a confession to make. Despite living here for almost a year, and despite having gone to Manhattan three other times before I moved here, I have never really been to Central Park. Now, I’ve seen it, of course, from a distance, either at the Museum of Natural History last March, or when I’m at Columbus Circle, or the time my mother and I went in when we were at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and immediately left after taking the requisite photo op.

Sadly, Saturday was truly the first time I had really seen Central Park in all it’s glory. The trees sprouting new leaves, the flowers blossoming, runners huffing and puffing down the path, families and Columbia college students in bikinis spread out on blankets, tourists in shorts and T-shirts, and Upper East Side mothers pushing their babies along in Graco strollers.

It’s true what they say about Central Park feeling like another world - almost, dare I say, suburban, or even farther than that. Like a state park. Except for the apartment buildings peaking up from behind the trees, you’d almost think you were in upstate New York and not in the middle of a metropolis.

We walked for miles - literally. Our workshop was at 40th and Broadway, we stopped for lunch at 46th and Ninth Avenue, strolled up past Lincoln Center and entered the park at 66th, meandered our way along the various paths - past the Great Lawn, the Jackie Kennedy Onassis reservoir, and beautiful cherry blossom trees that sprinkled the path like it was snowing - and finally came out at 101st Street. We went one block to Madison Avenue, stopped for Starbucks, and eventually caught the subway at 68th and Lexington. We knew it would take us at least another hour to get to Penn Station at 34th, and neither of us thought our feet would be very happy if we did that!

It was also nice seeing a part of Manhattan that I don’t have much reason to visit - the Upper East Side. The rumors are true and it’s completely packed with apartments and townhouses. We saw twelve-year-old meadering about, more children’s clothing stores than I thought was necessary, and there were the mothers again, pushing their babies in their little Graco strollers (well, I have no idea if they were really Graco strollers, I didn’t feel the need to go up and ask which stroller brands they used).

Hope you all enjoyed your weekend too!

The skyline of midtown Manhattan, reminding us it’s still there.

“You think we’re the only ones who thought about coming to the park today?” I joked. “You’d think the entire city thought the sun was going to go away for another six months!”

The Jackie Kennedy Onassis Reservoir

The world is finally in bloom again.

For more photos from Central Park, visit my Flickr gallery.

How My Father Met My Mother

Every couple has Their Story. The story they tell when they meet each other’s families and friends for the first time, the story they tell their children and their grandchildren, they story they whisper to each other during romantic moments

“Do you remember when…”

Every couple has Their Story of how they got together. Some stories are simple, some stories are complicated. Some stories are funny, some stories are serious. All stories are wonderful and have a happy ending.

~*~

It was October 1981. My father had moved to California after losing his job and had decided to live at his parents house while they were living in Europe. It was a few weeks before my grandparents actually left and it was the weekend of his tenth high school reunion. My grandmother brought in some of his old high school yearbooks and they were reminiscing about people he went to school with. My grandmother pointed out people she was curious about and my dad promised to let her know what they were all doing. He also recognized someone in the yearbook as someone he had been working with at his new job, but didn’t remember from high school.

The next day, my dad went to the reunion. When my dad was in high school, he was, well, kind of dorky. He was short and bit overweight, and now that he was in his late twenties, he was much taller (having had his growth spurt during his senior year in high school) and had lost weight. Having visions of having the entire high school class be amazed at his transformation, his illusions were quickly broken when most people didn’t remember how he looked at all.

After a couple hours of meandering around the reunion and meeting people, my dad was bored. A woman named Betsy happened to recognized my dad and called him over.

Betsy asked, “Hey, do you know Caren?” (This would be my mom.)

“No, should I?” my dad asked.

“Probably not,” my mom replied.

My mom was working and living as a ESL teacher in the North Monterrey area of California, in a town called Castroville (the artichoke capitol of the world, or so my dad tells me). My mom says that because it was during the school year and she was working, she almost didn’t go to the reunion. Obviously she changed her mind or there would be no story (or a me to tell it!).

My dad and my mom spent all night talking to each other. But towards the end of the night, they briefly separated (my mom thinks one of them went to get something to drink, but she couldn’t remember specifically what happened). Meanwhile, some guy came up to my mom and asked her to dance. Since my dad wasn’t around, she said yes.

And off she went.

When my dad finally came back, my mom was gone. He waited around for her, but after awhile, my dad figured he wasn’t going to see her again. Disappointed and little pissed, he decided to leave without saying good-bye.

After my mom finished dancing with the other guy, she looked around for my dad. She looked and looked, but finally someone told her that he had already left. A little annoyed, my mom left the reunion.

~*~

The next morning, my maternal grandmother asked my mom how the reunion went. My mom said that it was good and that she had met a guy, but that he had left.

“Oh well,” she said. “His loss.”

~*~

On Monday, when my dad was at work, he saw Cathy, the woman that he recognized from the yearbook.

“Hey, where were you on Saturday night?” he asked.

“Why do you want to know?” Cathy asked.

My dad explained that he recognized her from the yearbook and hadn’t seen her at the reunion. “So, who did you hang out with in high school?”

“Oh, my very best friend was Caren G—-” Cathy replied. (That would be my mom.)

My dad, surprised, said, “Huh. Guess who I hung out with for most of Saturday night?”

Cathy asked my dad if he was planning on seeing her again.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Oh go on!” she insisted. My dad was hesitant but after a little more pushing from Cathy, he finally relented.

My dad, knowing that my mom was a teacher, looked her up at the school district and gave her a call.

That Saturday, they had their first official date.

While they were on their date, my dad told her about seeing Cathy at work and how she encouraged him to call.

My mom replied, “I haven’t seen Cathy since we graduated from high school.”

~*~

They got married on April 16, 1983.

And the rest, as they say, is history…

~*~

Happy 25th Anniversary Mom and Dad!

Love,

Allison and Eric

My parents. Christmas 2007.

~*~

Weddings are certainly in the air with the impending nuptials of Gina and Kerri, but even if you aren’t married or engaged, I would love to hear how you and your significant other got together, or about your parents or friends if you’re not with anyone.

Spring Break.

Well, as a 22-year-old post-graduate working girl, I sadly bid farewell to any hopes of having a spring break last year.

Luckily for me, my mother is a teacher and she has spring break, so when I found out that I needed to use up my two roll-over vacation days from last year, a mini spring break vacation seemed like a perfect solution.

My mother had never been to Boston before and I had only been there for about twenty-four hours last Labor Day. It was also within driving distance of where I live (which I still can’t get over) and would help cut the costs.

I drove up on Friday night so my mother and I were ready to go Saturday morning. We started off on Newbury Street with brunch and window-shopping. We even found a funny window! I thought this was hilarious and I ended up buying a magnet with the saying on it too. We walked the Freedom Trail through Boston, passing through the Boston Commons, Park Street Church, the Old South Meeting House, up past Faneuil Hall and into the North End. Unfortunately, both Paul Revere’s house and the Old North Church close ridiculously early (like 4pm! What respected historical location closes then!?!). So we had to come back.

We had thoughts of going to the Old North Church for Sunday Easter service, but I ended up coming down with a bit of a cold and slept in until almost 11 a.m. instead. We didn’t want to waste too much of the day, so we took a quick jaunt over to Cambridge (I waved to Massachusetts General Hospital - home of Dr. Faustman - on our way there) where we had Peet’s coffee, toured Harvard University and stopped in the Curious George store. Afterwards, we made our way over to the North End to finish up our sightseeing stops.

When we got to Paul Revere’s house, there was a tour with some students going on. While the tour guide was speaking, he said to the students, “You all are from a high school in uh, in uh Portland…Portland, Oregon, right?” I thought he was going to say “Maine” because we were in Boston and you could practically throw a rock at Maine (well, compared to Oregon!). We stopped by the Old North Church and I had my picture taken with God (well, kind of). It was still early, a little after four, when we were done so we wandered around the North End looking for a place to eat. We actually stumbled upon a jewelry store where my mom bought a really great green ring (how Boston!) and I got a woven bag for the spring.

On Monday we decided to skip town and we drove up to Salem. Salem was probably not the smartest decision ever considering it was very cold and nearly nothing was open, but we did tour the House of Seven Gables, Nathaniel Hawthorne’s birthplace and one of the many, many witch museums which was sadly just a retelling of The Crucible, so I found it slightly dull.

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s birthplace - cute house, too bad he wrote such a God-awful book like the Scarlet Letter

We skipped town on Tuesday, but not before heading up to Bunker Hill monument and I stupidly decided to climb to the top - all 296 steps! I have climbed to the top of Notre Dome (yes, it’s possible to climb to the very top of it), and I’ve been to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Sears Tower (albeit via elevators - thank God). Somehow it’s been ingrained in my psyche that I absolutely must climb to the top of whatever monument I’m near, which isn’t so great considering how out of shape I am.

The drive home is terribly long, but we made a couple of pit stops. The first was in Providence, RI for a bathroom and Macy’s stop. The Macy’s was not on purpose, but when you walk past all those clothes on the way to the ladies room you just haveto stop. Then we stopped for dinner in New Haven and took a quick spin around Yale, mostly by car, but we did get out and visited the library, which is amazing. My mother and I briefly contemplated me attending Yale for grad school, but then we discovered they have no master’s programs in journalism or communications. So we said, “Well, Yale’s out!”

Because, you know, I totally could have gotten into Yale…

Wednesday was my mom’s final day and we spent most of it just sitting around my apartment. In the afternoon, we went to the city for dinner at my old favorite, Cibo (those of you who attended OCapalooza last year will remember Cibo) and then we rushed over in very heavy traffic to see A Chorus Line. It was amazing! I have seen quite a few Broadway shows, but each one are so different than I have a hard time picking a favorite. This is definitely a fun, yet touching look at what an actor goes through on Broadway and I have much more respect for those who pursue show business.

My mom left yesterday morning, so now life has finally returned to somewhat normal. I am way behind on most of my freelance projects so other than running a handful of errands I plan on staying put in my apartment and taking care of what needs to be taken care of. Won’t be very relaxing, but at least I’ll get some of the stress off my plate!

You can check out all my photos from spring break on Flickr.

Old Friends.

Over the years, I have met a lot of people with type 1 diabetes at events like conferences, Walks to Cure Diabetes and support group meetings. It’s hard to keep up with everyone, which is why I enjoy blogging so much. The Internet is constant and my blog is (almost) always here, even when I’m not so I never have to worry about missing someone. I have met a lot of people at the events that I have kept in touch with over the years, but rarely have time to see because of distance and other scheduling factors.

So when I found out that Mollie and Jackie Singer were in New York City before they left, I jumped on the chance to see them. Mollie and I played Facebook Wall tag for about a day before we finally nailed down a time to meet. It was Friday night and we were going to meet at Penn Station for dinner.

It was a windy, rainy mess of an evening and I tried to contain my anxiety about missing the train to New York City. Mollie, her twin sister Jackie (who does not have diabetes but who knows more about the disease than most people with diabetes) and their mother, Jackie (who also happens to have a twin sister named Mollie - funny, no?) met me at Penn Station before we ventured back outside for dinner.

I picked Harrington’s Bar and Grill, a restaurant I had been to a couple times before and it has a great proximity to Penn Station. It’s just one block away and you only have to risk being killed by a taxi cab once.

The waitress led us to their upstairs dining area where it was slightly quieter away from the bar. Mollie, Jackie and I have known each other for over five years and I initially met Jackie at Children’s Congress in 2001. I recognized them from all the JDRF videos and promotional material that I had seen, but I didn’t get a chance to meet Mollie because of how busy we were as delegates. Not that it ever really mattered. Mollie, Jackie and I worked together for a couple of years on the original Diabetes Teen Talk, which at the time was “Teen Talk @ Diabetes Station.” Mollie and Jackie and I rotated hosting duties for the weekly chat. Mollie has also helped me on numerous projects over the years, so it was a thrill to finally meet in person.

The first part of the conversation revolved around why Mollie and Jackie were back in New York City though I’m sure Mollie will eventually post all the details on her blog so keep an eye out. We talked about how I ended up in New Jersey and I gave them a crash course in what I do for a living. I joked that six months after I started working in digital media for a public relations agency, my father was still asking, “But what does that mean?” I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to properly explain it, but I did feel successful when I introduced Mollie and Jackie to the idea of “microblogging,” which is blogging in short form rather than long prose. The most popular tools for microblogging are Twitter and Tumblr.

We also talked about diabetes advocacy and what it’s like to go from a child advocate to an adult advocate. Mollie and Jackie started a project called the Diabetic Angels at their school when they were younger, and now different chapters have popped up all over the world. They are planning on continuing to grow this project.

I mentioned how when I was selected to be a Children’s Congress delegate how mad I was at myself for starting so late.

“I remember telling my mother, I only have three more years!” I told them. We all agreed that it was important to continue this advocacy work even though we were passed that cut-off point for being a “juvenile” and hopefully it will help make people aware that this isn’t a children’s disease.

I have often said, “Juvenile diabetes is not a Peter Pan syndrome. It does not keep us children. We still grow up.”

I think we’re growing up quite well, if you ask me.

Mollie, myself and Jackie

Proof in Pictures

Last week, I attended the book launch party for Robert Rummel-Hudson’s new book Schuyler’s Monster.

I arrived in the city forty-five minutes before I needed to be at work. There is a Borders right above Penn Station and amazingly enough, it was already open. I decided to check to see if they had a copy of the book. It wasn’t in the biography and memoir section at the front of the store like I suspected, so I searched for it in the database and saw that it was in the Parenting section. I went upstairs and after a few minutes found the Parenting section (it wasn’t clearly labeled in the store so it took a few minutes of wandering). Excited, I snapped a couple of pictures before grabbing my copy.

After I purchased the book, I saw one of the employees (perhaps a manager?) waiting at the end of the counter.

She motioned to me and I stopped to talk to her.

“I saw that you were taking some pictures upstairs,” she said. Uh oh. “Could you tell me a little bit about that?”

“My friend… wrote this book,” I explained, taking Schuyler’s Monster out of the bag. “I’m going to the book party tonight and I wanted to show him a picture of it being at the Penn Station Borders. I’m just really excited.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, hesitantly. “We don’t normally allow photography.”

“I know, I should have asked,” I replied. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“Well, good luck to your friend,” the woman said.

Whew. Dodged that bullet.

After work, I took the subway down to Dip, a trendy bar somewhere down on the Lower East Side. It was incredibly dark and a bit loud, so it wasn’t the most conducive to conversation. There were quite a few people who showed up solo, so it didn’t take long before I was chatting with my fellow Rob fans. Kerri also showed up with a friend. It was great seeing her again.

Rob and I eventually got to talking and he signed by book which I had purchased that morning. The party wound down around 9:30 and Rob, his friend Jennifer and I walked back to his hotel but we all agreed it was time for some food. None of us had eaten anything at the party because we were talking so much and missed all the food. We stumbled upon a 24 hour diner on Lexington Avenue but I think I’ll leave that off my list of NYC restaurants. It’s not really a place I recommend going unless you’re on 39th and Lexington and dying of starvation. Or having a low blood sugar.

Before I left to catch the train back home, Jennifer snapped a quick picture.

On Sunday, I took the train back to NYC to have dinner with Gayle and attend the concert that Lori sent me tickets for. We saw the Magnetic Fields, a band Gayle was a huge fan of but who I had never heard of. Before the show, we snapped some pictures in the ladies lounge.

Edited by Carey’s request: I didn’t have much of an idea what to expect from the concert, but I liked it. They played quite a few songs from their new album, Distortion, except the songs were all acoustic, which Gayle pointed out is very different from how the album sounds (mostly electronic - hence the name “distortion”). The lyrics are quite funny though very cynical about love, although I made the comment to Gayle that it seemed like the music itself didn’t have much variation to it. It was good, but to my ear it didn’t vary as much as I expected between songs. The pianist (a lady) and the lead singer (a guy) also had a great rapport.

Want to see more pictures from the last week? Check out my Diabetes 365 photo gallery.