Monday, October 26, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
On Sake...
photo: Jui Shih
I was covering an impeccable sake seminar and tasting at Matsuri, the beautiful subterranean Japanese restaurant at the Maritime the other evening. I have had many a fond meals there....ah, but I digress. The sake! Organized by Joto Sake (the founder and his staff were ever so gracious), the event was just...perfect. Artisanal brewers pouring their masterpieces and ever so humbly accepting our compliments....what a difference from the typical pour and score events.
Two days after, my tongue still comforted by the soft and silky smooth taste...I will now turn to one of my favorite haiku writers (a total modernist on the subject) and fellow sake imbiber, Santoka:
Nice inn
mountains all around
sake store in front
"yoi yado de dochira mo yama de mae wa sakaya de"
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Brace Yourself for Delivery Week!
Delivery Week has now reduced my 1 block walk to 10 paces as I let my fingers do the dialing. The brainchild of Seamless Web, it runs October 19th-31st. 3 course lunches are $12.09 + tax and dinners will set you back $20.90 + tax. They are awarding freebies on Twitter so what are you waiting for?!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
On "Jobs Wanted, Any Jobs at All" in The NY Times
I came across this NY Times article, “Jobs Wanted, Any Jobs At All” that focused on the day-to-day of Kristie and Katie Barry, 17 months out of university and jobless. Though one is not technically unemployed (she’s just partially employed), she described her bartending gig as “dating a guy you know you’re not going to marry.”
I understand. I've been a phone girl, focus groupie, convention booth hottie and (my favorite) a beer marketer: studying the drinkability of America’s premium draft light beer. Real jobs? They were real to me. They all paid an average of $20.00 an hour but they were all gigs. What my parents would call a “real” job, is a 9-5er, Mondays to Fridays where you're on an actual payroll and they took sweet, sweet taxes out of your paycheck every fortnight.
My first proper job out of college was as a Client Care Coordinator for a now defunct health and wellness company that specialized in hypnotherapy. Yup. It was one of “those” new agey things. Basically a glorified office assistant, I greeted clients and ensured they were comfortably tucked beneath a warm blankey on leather recliners while receiving light and audio therapy. Dealing with subliminal messages of relaxation followed by piercing red strobing lights on your eyelids was not my idea of fun and I decided to resign from the place after witnessing some unsavory business practices.
That evening, I dined with friends at Don Quixote and cried into my lobster, thinking that it was the end of the world and I will never find a job again in this bad economy. The “bad economy” I was referring to, was the post 9-11 job market. I wanted to write but there were no jobs to be had anywhere.
It was just a stroke of luck that one of my friends suggested I joined her as a Real Estate Agent. I registered for the mandatory classes, passed the state exam, joined a brokerage and did my first deal 2 weeks into December, smack in the middle of the holidays.
I understand. I've been a phone girl, focus groupie, convention booth hottie and (my favorite) a beer marketer: studying the drinkability of America’s premium draft light beer. Real jobs? They were real to me. They all paid an average of $20.00 an hour but they were all gigs. What my parents would call a “real” job, is a 9-5er, Mondays to Fridays where you're on an actual payroll and they took sweet, sweet taxes out of your paycheck every fortnight.
My first proper job out of college was as a Client Care Coordinator for a now defunct health and wellness company that specialized in hypnotherapy. Yup. It was one of “those” new agey things. Basically a glorified office assistant, I greeted clients and ensured they were comfortably tucked beneath a warm blankey on leather recliners while receiving light and audio therapy. Dealing with subliminal messages of relaxation followed by piercing red strobing lights on your eyelids was not my idea of fun and I decided to resign from the place after witnessing some unsavory business practices.
That evening, I dined with friends at Don Quixote and cried into my lobster, thinking that it was the end of the world and I will never find a job again in this bad economy. The “bad economy” I was referring to, was the post 9-11 job market. I wanted to write but there were no jobs to be had anywhere.
It was just a stroke of luck that one of my friends suggested I joined her as a Real Estate Agent. I registered for the mandatory classes, passed the state exam, joined a brokerage and did my first deal 2 weeks into December, smack in the middle of the holidays.
While I keep at my writing, I get to market and sell beautiful homes in Manhattan which is in itself an exciting journey of expensive exotic woods, private roof cabanas and concierge service.
George Bernard Shaw said, “Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself” and on that note, a word of advice to the lovely Barry twins: Keep at it. Step outside the box. There is tremendous opportunity on this island...
George Bernard Shaw said, “Life isn't about finding yourself; it's about creating yourself” and on that note, a word of advice to the lovely Barry twins: Keep at it. Step outside the box. There is tremendous opportunity on this island...
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