My favorite New York Times article–EVER.

“For Christine Cameron, the recession became real when the financial analyst she had been dating for about a year would get drunk and disappear when they were out together… Dawn Spinner Davis, 26, a beauty writer, said the trend began to make sense when the man she married on November 1st, a 28 year-old private wealth manager, stopped playing golf, once his passion.

“[These women] shared their sad stories the other night at an informal gathering of Dating a Banker Anonymous…

“In addition to meeting once or twice weekly for brunch or drinks at a bar or restaurant, the group has a blog that…invites women to join ‘if your monthly Bergdorf’s allowance has been halved and bottle service has all but disappeared from your life.’”

–The New York Times, N.Y./Region; January 28th, 2009

This move is running (though I didn’t say ruining) our liiiiiives! Back to posting once I have a desk.

Daniel has always done it for me. And when I say that name, I’m speaking of the restaurant, the man and the empire. It’s fancy schmancy, terribly expensive and a trip to the gastronomic temple means you’re celebrating something. (For some, that something is a facelift, acquiring the Classic 6 next door, returning from the Hotel de Paris with a sugar daddy; for me, it’s a baby, a marriage, a book deal). The man–the chef–is a Gallic charmer who knows how to make you feel like the sexiest thing since Brigitte Bardot (even if you’re 6 1/2 months pregnant). His charms, and his restaurants’, are undeniable.

Oh, and did I mention that Hubby used to cook there?

Anyway, I was so excited to open up the Times’ Dining section today and see that Frank Bruni awarded Daniel its highest honor–FOUR STARS! This is thrilling stuff for a foodie like me…

If you have anything to celebrate, go do it at 60 East 65th Street. And if you’re like us and can’t afford to wile away your evening and paycheck in the dining room (pre-fixe dinners start at $105 without wine), enjoy a single flute of rose’ champagne and a canape’ or two in the luxurious bar. I promise you’ll leave feeling like a successful, celebrated French starlet. But before you step out into the expensive light of 65th, tell Daniel that the 2 1/2 of us send our best…

“Daniel was always fancy; now it’s genuinely gorgeous too… [It] remains one of New York’s most sumptuous dining experiences…” (Frank Bruni, The New York Times; January 21st, 2009)

“I think how lonely it would be to just bump along, to hang on, while life drives one about. I believe in the fates, in a kind of fundamental predestination, but fused with home-cured strategy. I remember, when I was still very young, feeling relieved, reading Tolstoy. ‘Life will shape itself,’ he promised. Though I didn’t buy it completely, I was so happy to think life might do even a part of its own work, that I could rest once in a while…”

–”A Thousand Days in Venice,” Marlena De Blasi

Nesting Syndrome is not a myth. Being able to see little elbows and feet grazing up against your belly, does a number on your priorities… Suddenly, I can’t get enough of home catalogues (or ABC Home & Carpet super sales), custom crib bedding, window treatments and natural fiber area rugs. (I can’t believe I can even string those words together–NATURALFIBERAREARUGS.)

Yesterday, I was ecstatic leaving Clio with Jamie, our new table “runner,” linen napkins and matching coffee mugs and sugar bowl in tow.

“Aren’t you thrilled, baby?! Now we’ll be coordinated when we drink coffee in the morning!”

My new husband looked at me like I was juuuust a little crazy…

And maybe I am.

I’m in my late 20’s, in the throes of transitioning from one life to the next and the space around me is suddenly so important. Maybe it’s my way of coping? In the span of 6 months time, Single-Carefree-Downtown-Writer (because we’re all hyphenated clichés in someone’s mind) became Young(ish)-Wife-and-Mother-to-Be. And this new, “adult” life just happens to come with a new, “adult” apartment.

Goodbye SoHo studio, hello West Village 2-bedroom.

From the nursery and from the master bedroom, we see the warm lights and rooftops of the West Village. The cement wonders of Union and Madison Square rise in the distance-the only reminder that our quiet street is ten minutes from chaos and worries. But I like this, being removed yet somehow still a part of it all. The skyline reminds me that I’m here, still trying to do something (whatever that something may be).

And the nursery is large enough to double as my home office. One end will be pink toile and plush toys while the other is hard angles, work and stacks of bills…

Every woman says she “wants it all.” But does she? Do I? Can I handle it?

A killer profile and a big set of feet–baby girl is already the spitting image of her dad.

Six months and counting…

“Our lives are defined by opportunity–even the ones we miss.”

–”The Curious Case of Benjamin Button”