Blueberry Pancakes & Happiness at Julie's

There are few things as classic

as a breakfast of fluffy, sumptuous

simply delicious blueberry pancakes

I had been craving these puppies ever since I saw 

Bobby Flay's blueberry pancake Throwdown with 

Clinton St. Baking Company

although it's right by my house

I've never been

and I departed from the 

LES to the big PK without even coming close to tasting their 

famous blueberry pancakes slathered in 

maple butter

I love Bobby Flay more than most 

and watching him compete makes my cravings run wild

so for weeks I've been thinking about 

blueberry pancakes

and sitting down to a bright shining plate of beautiful golden discs

littered with violet blueberries

and glistening maple syrup

you know, just like mom would make

so today I had one of my first culinary pleasures at a diner in the big PK,

something I thought would never happen to me in this sad little town

thank god it did, I start to forget what good food tastes like, 

seeing as the only thing I ever eat are 

egg white omelets

it's a sad fate

but the omelets are the safest and freshest choice 

(does anyone else think omelet doesn't even look like an English word?)

maybe it's just me...from eating too many

anyhow, I went to Julie's Restaurant

a cute little joint with homey wood paneling

a grandma (or yaya) in a great floral print sweater

working alongside her son & daughter

can that get more classic?

I felt like I was on Diners, Drive Ins & Dives

if only Guy Fieri was there, he's my other favorite

these Food Network men live the good life

I'd like to marry one of them

getting back on track,

we ordered blueberry pancakes & a Vassar wrap

the name is not worthy of the amazing food concoction I received

the pancakes were juicy, fluffy, and bursting with blueberries

topped with a sprinkle of powdered sugar, 

so I knew I was actually in heaven

I sipped my huge glass of orange juice and smiled blissfully

seriously, I felt like I was living the high life

I didn't have any fancy maple butter,

but I had a cute little pitcher given to me

by a real grandma, so I knew it was full of love

that beats maple butter any day in my book

and the wrap was full of broccoli, mushrooms, & swiss

in the best, most sturdy and tightly wrapped

special tortilla ever

for some reason Vassar never serves broccoli

so it was a real treat to once again taste my favorite vegetable

as I expressed my thanks & elation to the waiter

after my craving had been satisfied

in response to conversation about all the good restaurants in the city

our waiter said 

"yea, but there is nothing like momma's cooking, and I get to have that everyday"

that broke my heart, because I miss my mom

but Julie could be my surrogate any day, who knows

maybe she'd even let me borrow some floral print.

Broken Heel, Broken Heart

Right now I feel,

utterly betrayed

Today on this cold ill-fated December day I decided

to wear my lucky underwear

well, basically they decided to wear me

seeing as they were peeking out of the drawer

bright blue,

with a hot pink gun

the  typical lucky underwear

they gave me hope

I mean, I did have my Native American Studies final today, and it went well

and I got a jelly donut 

I nommed that oozing shining blob inside during my test

I was happy as a plum

seeing as tomorrow I leave the 

dreary PK for home

I get to leave behind my biggest problems

art history flashcards, the dining hall running out of Fro Yo,

reserving the TV to watch CSI NY

etc, typical everyday problems that everyone has

but I guess my lucky underwear ran out of fuel today

because as I was sadly leaving the dining hall

sans brownie a la mode (no fro yo, sadness)

and then it happened:

I fell down the stairs...

not just any fall 

I slipped down each one, and at the bottom

I snapped the heel of my favorite boots off

they were beauties, 

by that I mean suede vintage booties

why do I buy vintage

if it just falls apart?

what a conundrum

so I walked to work

in socks, which conveniently had a hole

the sidewalk was littered with rocks and glass

I scraped my toe

at work about 10 minutes later

I smashed 3 of my fingers with heavy books

and twisted my ankle

the last spurt of luck obviously 

was wasted on that jelly donut, and I'm not quite sure it was worth it

So I'm going to read Precious

and cry my life away

until the 5:40 train tomorrow, because

in the city everything is lucky

and even a bad day is better than the best day in Poughkeepsie.

Homesickness

I buried my heart in Tompkin's Square,

really I did,

I found a twig by the dog run 

and made a hole to put it in

I put in some Belgian fries, a Metrocard and a pistachio ice cream cone so it wouldn't get lonely while i was away at college

there is this one squirrel that has lived in Tompkin's for years, she's a redhead 

so I named her Lindsay

This is my perpetual nostalgia acting up again

which always seems to happen when I should be doing something important

like figuring out how to be in the Tao & outlining Confucius' beliefs

but who cares about Confucius

when you're just 5 days away from going home

from escaping this snow/hail/rain [in that order]

and finals, and rotting in the library

I hate Poughkeepsie,

I figured my heart would too

that's why I left it behind to mingle with the pigeons

and smell the scents of great New York pizza

and maybe have a conversation with a few knowledgable bums

When I get back, it'll have all these great stories to tell me

while all I'm going to have to say is that the Forever 21 here is really small

and that the squirrels are really incarnations of 

English majors that could'nt find careers-

that's going to be me

maybe then I could be a bum in Tompkin's Square

watching the kids on the tire swings

and eating Belgian fries with the best barbecue sauce in the world.