"Feed you lobster,
'cause I'm a true mobster."

From the song I Need You Tonight by Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Sundays seem best spent snuggled up in bed.

"It's hard to believe,
that there's nobody out there.
It's hard to believe,
that I'm all alone."

From the song Under The Bridge by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

"Diana Sacayán was found tied up in a 13th-floor apartment in Buenos Aires in October, stabbed to death. A month earlier, Marcela Estefanía Chocobar, 26, was decapitated and her body dumped on a vacant lot in Río Gallegos, in Patagonia. Also in September, in Santa Fe, a city on Argentina's Pampas lowlands, the corpse of Fernanda Olmos, 59, was discovered on her bedroom floor, a plastic bag pulled over her head. She had also been stabbed.

The unsolved killings of transgender women in recent weeks have jolted Argentina, prompting soul-searching in a country that has introduced some of the most liberal civil rights legislation in Latin America, but that critics say remains mired in conservative and macho attitudes toward gender identity."

From the November 28, 2015, New York Times article: Transgender Argentines Confront Contonued Murder and Discrimination. Written by Jonathan Gilbert.

There's this predetermined story that I now recognize, and refuse to be a part of.

That's not my life---and will not let it ever be.

Happy Thanksgiving!

There's so much that I am thankful for.

"I've loved something that really didn't exist."

Said by Scarlet in the movie Gone With the Wind.

"It doesn't matter. Our love began the day we met. Nothing that happened before even exists."

Said by the character Serena in the movie Serena.

The past few weeks or so.

"A white Chicago police officer was charged with first-degree murder on Tuesday in the death of a 17-year-old black man, just hours before city officials appealed for calm as they released a chilling video of the officer shooting the teenaged as he lay crumpled on the ground.

The grainy, nighttime dashboard camera video, which a judge ordered released last week, shows the young man running and then walking past officers in the middle of the street and spinning bullets suddenly striking him down. For a moment, lying on the ground, he moves but then is still after he appears to be shot several more times. An officer kicks an object away from his body. The video shows none of the officers on the scene offering assistance to the teenager, Laquan McDonald."

From the November, 24, 2015, New York Times story: Chicago Braces After Video of Police Shooting Is Released. Written by Monica Davey and Mitch Smith.

How can a group of professionals trained to handle situations like that value human life that way? The way Laquan MCdonald was killed is just heartbreaking and awful to watch.

Food Hangover [füd hang-oh-ver]: Waking up feeling bloated, groggy, and remorseful after an evening of uncontrollable eating. Often involves alcohol, boredom, or anxiety.

If you're looking for a great quality Korean album from the 90's with a wispy sound that perfectly captures and invokes emotions from the decade you never knew you had, I highly recommend this: TOY (토이) - 내 마음 속에.

This album seems to especially make sense on a crowded subway ride, where I can close my eyes and feel transported in a completely different way.

Thank you, Adele.

Your music makes the world a better place.

Isolated.

Inadequate.

"Saying 'NO,' really is saying yes to yourself."

Said by Shonda Rhimes in the November 11, 2015, episode of Fresh Air.

Eating season is here!

But for some of us, it's a year round sort of thing.

"Do you know what it feels like to dance alone?"

From the song Lights by Hurts.

Menus are magical booklets that let you know what deliciousness is to come.

"Hello from the other side.
At least I can say that I tried."

From the song Hello by Adele.

"Half of New York City residents say they are struggling economically, making ends meet just barely, if at all, and most feel sharp uncertainty about the future of the city's next generation, a new poll shows.

The poll, conducted by The New York Times and Siena College, shows great disparities in quality of life among the city's five boroughs. The stresses weighing on New Yorkers vary widely, from the Bronx, where residents feel acute concern about access to jobs and educational opportunity, to Staten Island, where one in five report recently experiencing vandalism or theft.

But an atmosphere of economic anxiety pervades all areas of the city: 51 percent of New Yorkers said they were either just getting by or finding it difficult to do so."

From the November 18, 2015, New York Times story: Half of New Yorkers Say They Are Barely or Not Getting By, Poll Shows. Written by Alexander Burns and Giovanni Russonello.

"But, applied as a universal device, the trick results in taste-bud strain."

From the November 23, 2015, issue of The New Yorker's Table for Two: Virginia's. Written by Silvia Killingsworth.

"If you give it a chance, you might actually like it."

Said by the character Jess in the show Married. Season 1, Episode 10.

The past few weeks or so.

"It was too good to be true."

From the song Pin by Grimes.

My roommate is working the nightshift tonight, so it's nice to have the apartment to myself in the evening.

Lately, I've been trying to cook more when he's not home. Actually, I should rephrase that. It's been years since I've been cooking regularly, so I've just been trying to cook in general nowadays.

Being single and living in New York City, it's easy to go through extensively long periods without thinking twice about preparing my own food. The concept of grocery shopping turns really more into the question of, "where should I get food from?" And the daily matter of what to make for dinner turns more into, "what should I order?" Since most of my meals are eaten on my own, it always feels more convenient to just get some take-out rather than going through the trouble of cooking and cleaning for myself. Plus, the places to order food from in New York City heavily outweigh places to go grocery shopping. And no matter what type of cuisine I'm craving on any given day, the freedom of not having to think about making it leaves for a lot more extra time in life. Which is always great because wondering about the recipes for a proper beef tartare or Vietnamese pho seems daunting. Besides being single, there's also a lot of other reasons why New Yorkers might not always cook. Perhaps for some, the magic of Seamless is just too amazing to not use. Then there's the fact that a lot of New York City apartments have unusable kitchens for whatever reasons, whether the equipment is super old or terrible ventilation makes the entire place stink afterwards. Or maybe there's the 3 crazy roommates who are always hogging up the stove and never clean up after themselves? And then there's the simple reality that many New Yorkers are straight up too busy.

But I've been trying to be more diligent about cooking for myself recently. Nothing super fancy, but accessible dishes that don't require a million ingredients and laborious prep. I don't like to cook if there are other people around, it's just a thing I have. That's why I take advantage of nights like tonight when my roommate isn't here. I prefer to cook alone with some music or a podcast on, that's it. And spending this time again in the kitchen has definitely been helpful in so many ways. I never realized this, but it's surprising how disconnected one can become from constantly eating food made by other people.

That's why I've come to enjoy this solo time for myself. And I forgot how when it comes to food, the most simplest things can be extremely cathartic. Cleaning and cutting your own vegetables. The feeling of ingredients in your hands. All of the vibrant colors and textures. The marvelous aromas wafting throughout. Pulling out a warm dish from the oven. Knowing exactly what's going into your body. All of it can be so wonderfully grounding.

"You gotta show me the way."

From the song V.A.L.I.S. by Bloc Party.

Happy Veteran's Day, America!

And to all the veterans of this great nation, thank you.

The Unispehere at Flushing Meadows Corona Park on a cloudy day.

"On either side of you are little adobe houses, former fisherman's cottages, each painted the truer-than-true colors of a rainforest jungle---heliconia red, toucan-beak orange, tree frog green, bromeliad pink---their facades nearly obscured by stalks of banana trees and clumps of torch ginger."

From the story, Rhythm: Why We Keep Coming Back to Trancoso, in the November 2015 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Written by Hanya Yanagihara.

"The following day, mother and son walked to the temple, where they met a monk and asked about Schwader's father. 'I don't know that name,' he replied, 'but you're welcome to look through the cemetery.' At first, all they saw were rows of discouragingly pristine tombstones, most of them clearly newer. But just before giving up, they came upon a cluster of older stones, decrepit and obscured by foliage, their Lao inscriptions nearly faded away. Except for one, Schwader noticed, with a barely legible engraving: THONGSAVANH VILAYTHONG. His father's name.

At dawn the next morning, Schwader, with his shaggy mane and cargo shorts, and a monk with close-cropped hair and a long orange robe paired up to lift the top off the stone tower, revealing a hollow where the jar of bones and ashes were kept. Five monks had formed a line beside the grave and began chanting in unison. Per Lao tradition, Schwader cleaned his father's bones and placed them in a bucket, along with flowers, candles, and incense. Soon, he and his mother were in a boat on the Mekong, gathering handfuls of the bowl's contents and scattering them on the river."

From the story, Home Away, in the November 2015 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Written by JJ Goode.

An absolutely wonderful and amazing story.

"Elbert Copeland spent eight of his formative years living in the Fulton Houses, a public-housing project in the Chelsea section of Manhattan, in the late 1980's and early '90s.

'Those years were pretty tough,' he said. 'There was drugs. There was prostitution.' He attended schools in the neighborhood, but he left in the 11th grade after seeing crime regularly spill from the street into his schools.

But at home, it was different.

'We always had love in our home,' said Mr. Copeland, 37, describing the affection his parents showed him, his sister and four brothers. 

From the November 3, 2015, New York Times story: The Neediest Cases - A Chance to Improve the Community, and Himself.

Things in New York City have been feeling a bit off this week. With Daylight Savings Time having started this past weekend, the city skies are pitch black by 5pm. But what's been a bit weird about that is it's also been unseasonably warm since Sunday, with temperatures easily going past 70° everyday. This early darkness in somewhat toasty weather feels a bit disorienting, with New Yorkers in shorts and a t-shirt and others wearing scarves and winter coats walking down the same sidewalk. And while we're on the topic of walking, I've always had big legs for as long I can remember. When I gain weight, it first usually goes to my calves and thighs. Finding pants that fit me well was hard until I discovered a certain style from J.Crew. For the past six years I haven't had to think twice about buying new pants because of these chinos. But when I recently ordered some new pairs, I couldn't even fit my legs through them. I contacted J.Crew and they told me that particular style recently went through a redesign to make the cut of the leg slimmer. I don't understand why they don't want us big-legged guys buying pants from them anymore. I hate shopping for clothes and now I have no idea where to get new pants. Speaking of pants, I also haven't worn a pair of jeans in more than two years. I just don't get anything out of wearing jeans anymore. Another thing I've recently stopped doing is going to so many negative or scandalmongering websites. It's amazing how my fingers would unconsciously type in the web address of all these sites I really shouldn't be reading, almost like a reflex. The fact that Chrome makes it easy to block websites now helps a lot, or otherwise the instinct of my fingers would have me absorbing all this tabloid-like content that really has nothing to do with my life, nor should it. I just want the news and facts, not someone's interpretation of it that is often grasping on to sensation. All of us already have enough bullshit in our lives, I can do without the clickbait.

"In my line if work, grimness of the mouth sets in after I've eaten too many things that are trying so hard to impress that they lose touch with anything that comes close to pleasure. And each time I see a roomful of people handing hundreds or thousands of dollars over to a chef who stopped caring a long time ago, my mood turns distinctly Novemberish."

From the November 3, 2015, New York Times Restaurant Review: Singapore Treats at Chomp Chomp in Greenwich Village.

The fantasies in my head will pale in comparison to what the future really holds.

Or most likely not. But it's nice to think about.

Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it. Work for it.