Local. RMSC Gardens.

Tulip in the gardens at the RMSC.

Yesterday was splendid.

.85. Breezy. Sunny. Momsly.

That’s my perfect–perfect–recipe for any day, let alone a Monday. What started as an excursion of we-can-do-whatever-we-want soon became more of an off-the-beaten-Ave-walking-tour of Park Ave, and I would not have had it any other way.

.Off the Beaten Ave.

Vick A: First we met at my apt. (Momsly had to wait for me to finish dressing. Pants … no shorts. Tanning lotion! Tube top–ugh!–tank. … You get the idea).

Correction: Yellow flowers aren’t Foxglove.
But faeries do live in Foxglove.
(That’s what Momslin always says.
…Also told me that ain’t Foxglove. #Moms .)

RMSC: Then we headed to the Herb Gardens at the Rochester Museum & Science Center. (Much more to say below…)

Delish: Next we peaked in at Delish Bakery, on Park near Goodman, which was closed. (But looks … delish, nonetheless. Can’t wait to try!)


Makes you feel like Park Avenue
is the Mediterran

Sinbad’s: At last, we traipsed all the way back down Park to grab a bite at Sinbad’s, where I may or may not have accidentally walked into the apartment building before finding my way to the restaurant entrance… . Momsly had this tabouleh salad and I chose a dolma pita, hot. (We shared.) Wine? Oaked Chardonnay for the Mrs. & Herron Hill Reisling (local) for moi. Freshness & taste: beyond. Prices: beyond affordable. Vegetarian options: YES. I must dine here more often.

East Ave: By taking the northerly route back to sample East, Momsly & I trekked to my apt so she could drive us up to Cobb’s Hill. (Quite sweaty at this point. I hate driving. Unrelated.)

Cobb’s: The best. Drove up from Highland where, kid you not, 60+ man–okay, you know those old ppl you see who are mega in shape & look it, so that when you see them do something even your 20-something bod can’t hack, you’re all, Pfffft they were prob captain of the swim team in college, etc???–jogged, normal pace, up–not Cobb’s Hill–but rather, the windy, steep, never-ends street which connects Highland Drive to Cobb’s Hill. All the way up. Normal pace. As in, by the time we parked and tripped our way up the green knoll to get a-strollin’, dude had already finished his incline and began the Reservoir path. Hat’s off.

Apt: After ooing & aahing at the waves in the Reservoir, remanisicing upon old times, and basking in the sunlight, Momslin drove us back to Vick A where, promptly, we took Cooper (Laur’s cute Mr. PupPup!!!!!) for a stroll to the corner & back, wherein, he continued to charm us while enjoying a street-side view from the porch while he awaited his Momslin’s arrival.

Da Moe’s: My day ended eating a scrumptions meal back at Da Moe’s where, yes, I mooched food off from the parents’. Never gets old.

* * *
Striped. (Variegated.)

.Herb Gardens.

While the entire entire day was sumptuous–beyond happy I could enjoy that slice of summer with Momsly–the highlight had to be the gardens, particularly the Herb Gardens, or Garden of Fragrance, at the Rochester Museum & Science Center. Easiest way to find it? Take Park before Goodman (headed West) & stop at the large grassy yard. Giant stones, some in the cast of dinosaur bones, will also signal your way. Continue walking through the mini-park until you greet what appears to be a backyard of sorts. These are the gardens at RMSC.

Name of my first born.

We spent most of our time marveling the Garden of Fragrance but also stopped by side-gardens such as the Wilfrid M. Kearns Garden. The former, which sits perched between two columns of tiered ivy, quaintly displays row upon row of the oddest named herbs. Sure, sure: chives, lavender, & thyme. The ush are there. (What is a good way to abbrev usual? Really?) But Hawthorne Scented Mugwort??? There’s also a Good King Henry. Somewhere between a Harry Potter and a Dicken’s character, wouldn’t you say? Though all herbs were not cultivated, enough popped up to be pleasing to both the nose and eye. I should say it will only improve as spring matures to summer.


The coolest surprise? (Nerdiest. Same.) Whispering Dishes!!!! Whhhhhhhhy do we have cell phones when this technology exists???? Basically, there are 2 of those suckers directly facing each other, I dunno, less-than half a soccer field apart. (Really deficient in distances… .) If you whisper into the center of one, while your Momsly stands listening at the other, she can hear what you said and whisper back. Yesssssssss. It is trueeeeee.

Try it. 

Until Then, a Hawthorne Scented Mugwort-Day to You, Too.

Local. Jonesin for Summer.

When you’re sick, the weather’s a tease, and Coachella‘s happening as we speak/read/type/breathe …  you start jonesin’, hard, for summer.
sweaty dancing, 
beach drinking,
 bbq beerin’,
 festival dressing,

sidewalk ponging, 
porch singing, 
dress dancing,
 hair braiding, 
bikini beaching,
 art walking, 
day drinking 
For festivals & sweet spots alike, follow my un-Official guide…
Highland Park Lilacs!
Lilac Festival
May 11-May 20, 2012

Thankfully (right adverb?), I’m sick during Spring and can only anticipate (instead of miss-out on) all of Rochester’s summer funnin’. I think most Rochesterians can agree that the unofficial kick-off begins with Rochester’s famous Lilac Festival. Beginning May 11 and ending May 20, this festival has 3 good weeks on Memorial Day Weekend. Great chance to transition from rainy-spring to (rainy) summer clothing & even try some festival braids.
Tulip Garden.
Braids (French, fish, Heidi, Little House on the Prairie … you get the idea) are killing this year. 
Lucky lucky lucky for me: frizz ♥s braids and likewise.
East End Music Festivals
June 1, July 13, August 10, 2012
June 1, July 13, August 10. Whether Memorial Day tapers-off and summer’s just a glimpse on the horizon or summer’s almost spent and she’s bowing her head, this baby spins in circles, ’round & ’round & ’round, until it topples into a pile of sweaty, stale hangover. East End Fest might kick your butt, but it also keeps the celebraish kickin’. I don’t care how old you are (as long as it’s 21+), this is the place to be at least 1 Friday of each summer every month. … Oh yeah, and there’s live music. Like 5 stages worth.  Kick it.
Party in the Park 
Every Thursday, June-August, 2012 
Thirsty-Thursdays more your speed??? Rochester’s too. Concert series (singular & plural?) like Party-in-the-Park, which is nestled in Downtown Rochester, begin every Thursday from around June to August. If you can’t wait for the weekend, or feel nostalgic for your college days … check out the Riverside Festival Site. Pretty close to everyone.
Rochester International Jazz Fest 
June 22-30, 2012
More sophisticated tastes. Love music. Still want to party. This is THE line-up. The 11th Edition Rochester International Jazz Fest, sponsored by Xerox, features musical greats the likes of Darryl Hall, Diana Krall, Norah Jones, & Bonnie Raitt. Not to mention numerous local names. Pretty freakin’ slick. Music. Jam-band. Rock. Jazz. Music. … If not already sold-out, buy tix here. (Or at the door–er–gates. That’s where I’ll be.)
 10 Ugly Men Festival 
July 21, 2012 

ihadagoodnight.com Guy
took this Pic. Find him at all the festivals.
  In my small city/town mind–in my East Coast mind–this is the closest I will ever get to Coachella. Ugh, the comparison, itself, is ludicrous. (Who’s probably playing at Coachella as we speak.) 10 Ugly. Is there any way to describe the 10 Ugly Men Festival? Well, first & foremost, it is a fundraiser. Read all about Ten Ugly Men Charities & the Bright Eyes Fund, which contributes to pediatric brain tumor treatment at Golisano’s Children’s and other hospitals/centers, by clicking the link above. No one needs an excuse to drink or to listen to live music or to eat grilled food and day-camp at Genesee Valley Park in a bathing-suit while playing can jam or kick ball or volley ball … or, I dunno’, while slip ‘n’ sliding. But if you do. Support the Bright Eyes Fund. Trust me, 10 Ugly will not disappoint. If it does, you can always leave on 1 of the free shuttles that will take you right back to Park or University. Done.

Park Ave Fest.
August 4-5, 2012 
Vick Park A. It was awes.
Above all else, this is my jam. Ironically, it involves no official music. Emphasis on official. Unofficially, this is the artiest, pong-iest, jamming-est festival of the summer. Imagine: 
1. Park Ave. (Or any windy, artfully, centrally located avenue in the heart of bars/restaurants/cafes/life.) close it off, & line it with rows of arts, crafts, & food vendors.
2. Take all Park Ave residents–streets directly off (such as mine) and tributaries (such as Harvard)–put speakers in the windows, pong tables on the porches, lawn games on the … lawns, and a red cup in every person’s hand. This is Park Ave. From 10am Friday until 5pm Sunday. Park Ave.
For all of those In Between’s
April-August, 2012
  When summer’s not in full-swing, you still celebrate. Here’s a just a few of my fav spots:
1. Starry Nights Cafe: Great for outdoor wine sipping or any cafe creation you could crave. Live music, outdoors. Murals of Van Gogh’s art. See ya at the corner of University.

2. Chocolate & Vines: Porch wine/chocolate/cheese sampling. …Yes.
3. Marge’s Lakeside Inn: Jimmy Buffet Central. Drink on the sand, listen to the waves crash into the land, and stare at the stars with your friends. Just try it. Go.

Local. Cobbs Hill.

Cobbs Hill Park & Reservoir
(fav hill to jog…most times not all the way up)

Favorite place in Rochester: park, at the very least. Too many reasons to name.

Please drive/bike/jog/walk up there someday. Counter-clockwise (if you start from the pumping station) and, clear day or not, ooh & aah as Rochester’s skyline edges into view. An island amongst 

a sea of trees. No pics of this b/c, sometimes, you just have to take mental pics. Some very special times.

So … I’m debuting my poetry. For the firrrrrssssssssst time. (Hence, “debut,”.) It’s about Cobbs Hill … mostly. Enjoy.
On the Other Side of the Bike Path


On the other side

of the bike path,

Laying in the sun.

Over where the hills

roll. Triangle sword-slices

stick to my sides.

Inch their way closer, like flies

that flit.

But I don’t mind.

I just want

to be near the sun

that bakes pots of

Clay and spots

of rose

into my face.

That lies like a blanket

to soothe away the tired.

To whisper (it’s all okay) into my breath.

The ground lies empty,

no one’s around. Not near me,

on the other side of the bike path.

The hills seem pleased


in need of not anything.

Solitary roll

isolated joy

singularly free.

And then there’s me.

Interrupting their mid-afternoon

sleep. And it should feel undone.

On the other side

of the bike path.
    . . .

Love. Ode to Mr. Klonks: & "The Art of Racing in the Rain."

Sleeping’s my favorite.

This is a Flemish Rabbit. You haaaave to click that link. Will not regret. (Yes. They exist.) I need one. Until then, … I have this guy.

(That’s Klonks’ Facebook page. Strongly suggest you like it.)

 * * * 
I’m handsome & cute.
This post combos Easter/Overall Spring-time celebraish with my love for Klonks with my newest fav read. An Easter platter/smörgåsbord of sorts. 
Flemish Rabbit gummies
(C/o the Easter Mama … my mom.)
New York Times Bestseller.
Warning: Could induce
sobs, ‘specially
late-night sobs
This novel, given as a 27th birthday present to me from the rooms (Ms. Lauren Seeley, who I’ve been friends w since 5th grade & who just so happens to be my 1st iTown friend), is pretts great. How do I know? Like 2 ppl immediately responded to my tweets about it. (No one ever responds to those suckers.) So good job Stein. Ya’ made it. …Oh, and it’s a NYT Bestseller.

The picture you see is Chapter 18, which pretty much sums up why I j’adore this book. But by pg. 3 or 5, when our narrator (Enzo, the dog) introduces this concept, I’m already balling. Balling. (More on that… .) 
Me + Klondike
(I’m a pretttty good fake sleeper.)
(That’s a dollhouse. It’s fully furnished.)
You see … I have this theory. (#NoJudgment .) Mr. Klonks: he’s my soul mate. Not the theory. Fact. Just is. I could elab, but it’d be an entirely different post altogether. In short: ever since the night that the 85 year old’s front end slammed into the side of my dog’s 2-yr-old rib cage and sent him yelping/spinning/tumbling legs-over-head down my parents’ street, and ever since I spent that entire night spooning his good side as he lay, tired & bruised (and absolutely FINE, thank God and thank pitbull breeds’ sturdy builds…) at the foot of my bed, we’ve been like this. (Fingers interlocking.) He’s my baby-doggy Mr. Puppup Kloooooooonks. He is my soul mate. Here’s the theory: 

Only get 1 soul mate, right. Well if Mr. Klonk is mine, then for me to meet my human soul mate, Mr. Klonks has to pass
…Crazy talk… 
* * *

Waiting for the Flemish Rabbit.
Or Easter Bunny.
(Pffft. Flemish Rabbit.)
Late at night, laying in my bed, I get to pg. 5. Enzo discusses how, when he passes, his dog-soul will pass into a human’s-soul … and he will greet his Master as a human. Yup. Are you kiddingggg me??? This, I do not need to hear. That a stranger (this author) agrees with me, I do not need to know. Understand, also, earlier that night, I read my horoscope. Never read my ‘scope. (Anymore, anyway.) That particular night, my horoscope said that I’d hear something bizarre. That it would be true. That it’d be hard to accept, but that if I just adjusted my most rational thinking & listened to my intutition, I could accept it. To do so would be to know the truth. Finish pg. 5. (What if?) Further into my read, Enzo shares that National Geographic aired a docu about how Mongolian culture supports this (Ch. 18). 
Late-night-cry sobs. Like when you’re 8 and you see the starving child commercials and then, 3hrs later, go to your dark & lonely bedroom all full of peas & applesauce and you remember that some
children are starving so, snot drenching your pillow, you cry. Yeah. That was me. Like, everyone’s more vulnerable/emotional at night. Not not-normal. No?
His best Flemish Rabbit Impression.
(Pretts good.)

At the end of the day (and a good long cry), I don’t really care if it’s true. At the end of the day, I still have Mr. Klonks. He still has me. If I’m waiting for anything … it’s for a Flemish Rabbit.

Review of McyDs Fries. The (Un)Happy Meal.

Thing looks 3x larger in phot.
(Camera adds 10 lbs.)

That’s not enough fries to feed my Barbie-Dolls. (Which are in the basement of my parents’ house.)

Went to a different McDonald’s (East Ave.) & got large fry. …Don’t worry:

hid my Happy Meal box on the floor so that when I paid/collected, no one noticed.

…Anyone else creeped out by this?
(Un)Happy Meal toy. What is that????