Spring Feverishly

February 22, 2013 by Jessica

I’m sick of Winter and I hate everything.

I heard a rumor that the groundhog didn’t see his shadow. Even worse, I have no idea what this means. Since I have little to zero affinity for Groundhog’s day (except for the Hells Angels Groundhogs day party we accidentally missed two Saturdays ago….everything is terrible) I can never remember how the shadow thing works and have no idea if March is supposed to be coming at us like Lions or Lambs or if it is even coming at all. Fortunately, there are a few sure fire ways to know we are approaching Equinox that do not require me to read a news story about a rodent or a Bill Murray movie (but I do love Bill  Murray…more like in Caddyshack and even in Lost In Translation where he sings karaoke and I fall in love him for 35 seconds.)

As a TRUE LOVER of all things New York and all things seasonal, I am not one to hate on Winter, but let’s be honest…..I’m getting really terrible, horrible, slightly hermetic, and starting to look way too muck like Tard the cat. I want to wear a sundress and I want to play outside. Where is the Pad Thai guy. I haven’t been to Daisy’s in months because Bacchus is 3 steps closer and more forgiving of wearing long johns as clothes. The sidewalks keep tripping me. Snowboarding hurts. I’m losing my winter luster, and my will to live.

Screen Shot 2013-02-22 at 10.56.21 AMSo I’ve decided to take things into my own hands (Surprise!) and jump start the season with a true milestone. The first bathing suit purchase of the year. Nothing says Get LOST, Winter, like casually picking up a neon and gold bikini from VS to help lift you out of your winter slump. This purchase is 2 fold. 1) It’s the best and 2) It is a real motivator to cut that Golden Girls marathon short and haul ass over to Happy Friends/Shanti/Crossfit/PF…whatever your sweat of choice may be. Time is ticking and before we know it,  our flag day parade float and American flag bikinis will be upon us. God willing.

I want to be on you.
I want to be on you.

The next Spring Has Sprung indicator is the return of the outdoor Farmers Market. I have been pretty vocal in my true hatred for the Atrium, but still rarely miss a market. The indoor market is at best a 3/10 and the outdoor market is like sliding down a electric rainbow of happiness and love. You TOO can experience the magic….soon. Soon. Soon enough. I haven’t even purchased anything at the market in months besides breakfast and coffee because I am too busy falling on ice and trying to survive. I long for the day where I can lay in the monument grass and stare up at the smoke bellows from the pad thai. I put in in inquiry for an exact date, but so far am left to guess sometime in April. TOO FAR.

The final marker of Spring in Troy has to be Betty. Casually laying asleep/passed out in the bushes by the 3rd and Congress bus stop from taking TNO to the next level. OR,  CMAXBY, shoeless, chasing the enthusiastic Barker Parker defecators down 3rd. That’s how you know we’ve made it. Spring is coming and things are about to get weird.

Tonight is Troy Night Out, and Thank God. We plan on celebrating our city with some Bowling, cheap imitation cheese, and sexual/dangerous/relaxed footwear.

What is everyone doing tonight??

Also, is anyone moving into the new Bonaccio apartments in the Keenan building? I want a tour, please and thanks.

 

POST BY Jessica
There was a void in her life. A spicy, meaty void . And the desire to fill that void led her across the river from Albany, to Troy, NY. It was there that she finally found it. Jamaican Beef Patty perfection. And lots of it. Late at night, I Love NY Jamaican Beef patties fueled her shenanigans. During the day, the premade frozen beef patties at the 3rd St bodegas kept her energy up for back to back yoga sessions. Like the Bee Girl from the Blind Melon video, she finally found a place with people like her. Except she’s a ginger. And not chubby. Slowly, it dawned on her. Troy, NY was meant for her and she made the purchase that would ensure she could remain, pockets filled with spiced meat encased in preservative laden dough: white curtains to put in her windows so as not to run afoul of the Troy Historic District’s guidelines. She could breathe easy. This was home. *****************************************************************************************************
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