Ruiz and I enjoyed our New York Christmas, although with the
separation of church and state we were reminded that “Happy Holidays” is the
politically correct greeting. Seeking to smooth our passage into Heaven we went
to Christmas Eve midnight mass at our local church in Bed-Stuy. (That's Bedford-Stuyvesant for those playing at home).
The mass featured performances by numerous school children
as they acted out the birth of Christ and performed as a choir of angels, resplendent
in tinsel halos and paper mache wings. Despite their sartorial efforts, the
children’s choir was so inept they could have been used as one of the teaser
ads in Australian Idol, designed to showcase the (hilariously) misguided
ambitions of select hapless contestants. The crowning glory came when three
oversized teenage girls, who had stuffed themselves into white leotards,
performed a liturgical dance for the congregation. This proved too much for
Ruiz who erupted in fits of laughter while the trio of Moby Dicks flailed
around. I nudged her disapprovingly, remarking that this was most inappropriate
behavior for church, until she reminded me of the time I chose to make it rain
while placing the offering in the collection place. Word.
After our souls were suitably lifted, we were able to enjoy
a typical Brooklyn Christmas. We watched our adopted team, the Brooklyn Nets, lose to the Boston
Celtics. Even a foot long hotdog could not diminish the rage Ruiz had for Avery
Johnson, the Nets’ Head Coach. Ruiz attributed his firing a week later to her
Incan powers (Have you guys seen Apocalypto?). We rounded off the evening of the 25th with
a 7-course degustation at Greenwich Grill, a Tokyo-Italian fusion
restaurant in Tribeca. Five stars.
We celebrated the new year with friends, who hosted a dinner
party at their place in Brooklyn. The highlight of the night was an impromptu
worldwide Eurovision contest at the dinner table, featuring guest teams
representing opposing countries such as the USA, Germany, Turkey and the UK. Teams
took turns to pick a song from their country to be judged by the audience. Song
choices from the Temper Trap, Goyte and Empire of the Sun had us well in the
lead. We are proud to report that Australia emerged victorious on the back of a
strategic trade with the UK. We were prepared to classify Kylie Minogue as
British, provided they also took Peter Andre. That sealed their doom and ensured
bragging rights to the Antipodes.
2013 has treated us well so far, with a major milestone
being reached in January. We are finally making the leap of faith from Brooklyn
to the Big League. We have signed a one-year lease for an apartment in the
Upper East Side in Manhattan. The good news is we can now offer you a (cramped, but free) place to stay in Manhattan.
Come and visit! Book early to avoid
disappointment! Also note: Applicants who come bearing gifts can be assured of preferential treatment.
The process for securing an apartment is quite different to
Australia, as you have to earn 45 times the rent per year individually to even
get the application form, and once you do, you are subjected to the infamous “credit
check”. How do you get a good credit rating? You get a credit card! How do you
get a credit card? By having a good credit rating! – you can see where this is
going. Once those (relatively) small hurdles are overcome, you can literally construct a
new wall in the apartment if you like and modify the space to your heart’s
content. We move in on Feb 1. Let the renovations begin.
This new development has sent Ruiz into a decorating frenzy.
She now scours the net for furniture bargains and is obsessed with throws, ottomans,
prints and shelving options. Sadly for me, it has meant several (tedious) trips
to various furniture stores and trekking out to IKEA in Red Hook [Ed: And accompanying temper tantrums from one of us, no points for guessing who...]. On the
upside, the allure of IKEA’s 50 cent hotdogs is not yet lost on me, so I can see
more sodium erythorbrate and pork trimmings in my future as Ruiz attempts to
feather the nest. Photographs to come.
Last but not least for this post: Congratulations to my
favourite man-child Nobby and his eternally patient wife Laura, who welcomed
their daughter Poppy into the world on December 24th. Nobby’s
breathless description of the birth as “epic” made me smile. Thankfully she
looks like her mother, which bodes well for her chances of future happiness.
Well done, guys!
