B & H Dairy

WHO: your classic diner lovin' self

WHAT: your old school 'beards and hats' kosher diner; staffed with overly charming Latin servers and severe, but loving, Russian ladies who shove a glass of pureed beets at you and command you to dreeenk.

WHEN: mid afternoon is best.

WHERE: 2nd Ave, between 7th and St. Mark's Place.

WHY: Because sometimes, you want to feel like you live in the East Village of the early 90's, where old Jewish guys in tweed coats sit at lunch counters flicking their papers over a cuppa black coffee. You want a bowl of real, delicious Matzo ball soup for less than it costs to take the train. You want the waitress you call you 'honey' and you want to hear the specials even though you know you just want the 'usual' (a big, fat tuna melt on Challah bread). It's all here.

HINT: Tuna melt on Challah bread. With Matzo ball soup. The best thing in the world.

I give it:

/ 10

TEN (!!!) OUT OF TEN HAPPY BRUCE FACES

Vacations Gone Awry

WHO: my vacation-lovin' self.

WHAT: Flew back to the west coast with boyfriend, went to a wedding, retrieved car, filled car to the brim with stuff from storage unit, drove 3,000 back to New York City

WHEN: last week

WHERE: AMERICA.

WHY: 'Cause I thought that my boyfriend's 1992 Subaru Legacy (yessss) would be just fine driving 3,000 miles. And I thought that taking a bunch of vitamins and drinking 'smartwater' would ensure that I would not come down with the plague and remain sick my ENTIRE vacation. I also, stupidly, overlooked the possibility that the car would completely quit working seventy miles outside of Missoula, Montana. And that we would spend almost a grand on a rental car to get me, the boyfriend and all of our stuff the remaining 2,500 miles. Oh and did I mention that we ran out of time and at one point had to drive for 36 hours straight and I drank a bunch of energy shots and got cracked out and hit a raccoon and started crying? Yeah.

HINT: Don't leave the keys to your car in the care of your pizza delivery friend for three months. He WILL drive that car into the ground and all you will get out of it is some mummified pepperonis in the back seat.

I give it:

 / 10

NEGATIVE SIX OUT OF TEN HAPPY BRUCE FACES