Kapparot, or why are there so many chickens?

My friend Emily lives in Bedford Stuyvesant in Brooklyn. It's an up and coming neighborhood (there are now a few decent restaurants in the area); however, it still has it's moments. One particular moment happened while I was staying at Em's last time around. Emily's roommate Corey came upstairs and announced that there were chickens downstairs. Em and I were going out to dinner, so we decided to leave a little early to see what was going on.

Sure enough. There were chickens. Crates and crates and crates of them. One by one they were being taken out of the crates and carried around and then put back in the crates. I have never seen more scared chickens in all my life.

Thanks to Wikipedia, we were able to figure out what all this nonsense was. It was Kapparot. The chicken whirling holiday.

I was so mystified, I had to take pictures.



I was so traumatized, I needed fried corn on the cob.



Delish.


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Arrrrrg.

September 19th (the day that Emily and I ventured to Governor's Island) also happened to be "Talk Like a Pirate Day". Because I am such a ruiner, I generally don't participate in these types of shenanigans. However, I will openly mock and/or photograph others who enjoy such activities.

For your viewing pleasure.





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Because we all need a little Dutch in our lives...

After Em and I were full up on salad and pizza, we decided it would be a fabulous idea to board a boat and go to a dutch festival. Just cuz. I mean, do you really need a reason for a festival... of dutch people. Well, it turns out that it wasn't so much a festival, but an art installation on Governors Island. The whole thing was kinda cool, but would have been significantly lamer if it hadn't been for the gelato... and the big plastic letters that we climbed on.

Without further ado...








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First Order of Business.

Those that know me know that food is very very important to me. Living in Atlanta can be a little difficult because some of my favorite delicacies just don't exist in the abundance that I enjoy. One of those things is pizza... and wonton soup... and well, every street food in New York.

One of the very first things I did when I got off that Airtran flight was get pizza (actually it was to get some kickass Indian food... naan nom nom). The great thing about this pizza? It didn't come from a fancy restaurant, it was from a regular restaurant in Brooklyn (if you're ever in Brooklyn Heights, go to Monty Q's on Montague Street... you won't be disappointed).

A small part of me wishes I could have pizza mailed to me. Seriously.


(That's my awesome friend Emily - she not only let me stay on her couch for a million night, she also indulged by stupid cravings for street food. However, we never did get the food from a truck that I wanted.)


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My Summer Vacation...

Hello there...

Sorry about the radio silence. Keeping a blog going is like keeping a diary. I haven't been able to keep a diary for more than 2 weeks in my entire life. So let's try this again.

A few weeks ago (seems like years), I went home on my "summer vacation". It was actually my fall vacation, but who's counting. Every 10 weeks, my crazy school gives all students 2 weeks to reboot their brains, sleep, eat normal foods and call their family and friends.

For the first 2 days of my vacation, I sleep and clean my room. Then, I board a plane and get the heck out of Atlanta. (Sorry, Atlantans.... I just like New England better) This time, I brought my camera and actually took pictures. Lots of 'em.

My next few posts will be of my adventures.



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