All Eyes on Katrina

(AP Photo: Mari Darr-Welch)

[I think it's awesome how this woman, stuck in a shelter in Pearl River, La. is reading a book called, "Daily Life in Chaucer's England" amongst the chaos that surrounds her. She even has a fancy bookmark!]

I don't know what the good folks at KFC put in my chicken wrap last night, but I slept like a log. Like, out cold. Elephants could have tap-danced in my kitchen and I wouldn't have noticed. Then again, I could have just been really tired...

It's another day, another dollar and I am once again occupied with all things Katrina here at The Job. That's fine, considering all I did last night was consume the aforementioned chicken wrap and see "The March of the Penguins." Great flick, by the way. Go see it.

In the meantime, here are a few links. Apologies if you came here looking for more interesting fare. It's just that there's sort of this natural disaster...Anyway, next week might be more interesting, complete with photos. I'm actually leaving the city this week-end.

Onward, upward...

A story about the hospital situation in New Orleans.

A New York Times editorial about why we should be able to blog about work.

A smattering of half-truths about Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey

A woman is suing a county in Washington state because scientists harvested her brother's brain for bipolar and schizophrenia research without first checking with the family. Dang.

Uber Busy

The Job has me extremely busy today, so the best I can offer you are some links to good stories.

I was here until about midnight last night and then I was back in at nine this morning. One of these days I guess I'll sleep.

The New York Times has come to its senses and written a piece about Laguna Beach

They've started looting in New Orleans

The Kids Are Getting Smarter: High Schoolers Score The Highest Ever on the Math SAT

That's it for me. I'll see you all tomorrow. Tonight I need to get new glasses. I'm practically blind over here.

Chaos, Thy Name is Bed Bath & Beyond

This was taken last Friday night when Hillary and I (she's single, fellas...) went to this loft party over on Horatio Street. Good times all around.

Here's another of Hillary and I and two strangers. I think the guy's name was Frank.



This past Sunday morning I woke up around noon and realized I totally slept through my tap dancing class. However, I still had time to make it to Hip Hop with Chio, so I pulled on my dance pants and hopped the N train to Broadway Dance. Because it's summer, the class only had about 40 people in it, as opposed to the usual 60 or so. (No lie.) Chio's class is always amazing (even the warm up is fun) and even though the combination we learned was hard at times, I think I got a lot out of it, including gallons of sweat.

I was light-headed after class so it seemed perfectly rational to go to Bed Bath & Beyond to pick up some new pillows. I've been on a new bedding kick lately. I bought a new comforter and sheets and I needed fluffy new pillows. I even rearranged my furniture.

Anyhow, I walked into Bed Bath & Beyond and noticed it was a little more chaotic than usual. That's because every NYU student known to man and their parents were in there buying sheets and plastic milk crates. My needs were a few floors down so I avoided most of the ruckus. I also got a little sad that I wasn't stocking up on shower caddies and bathrobes. It seems like my undergraduate heyday was eons ago.

There's not much else to report about my Sunday. I shopped a bit, ate some hummus, cleaned a lot (me and the cleaning lately...) and put the finishing touches on my awesome new bed set up.

I planned to get to an afternoon tap class today before work, but my back and hamstrings were killing me from yesterday's class. (I call this kind of pain a "dance class hangover.") If nothing else, it teaches me not to go so long between classes. Wedding-palooza this fall won't let me audition for any shows until at least early 2006, so the least I can do is stay on top of my skills, if I even have any. Ha.

Just When I Thought I Was About to Lose My Mind...

I'm almost nine hours into this marathon day at work. Things have gotten a little slow. Luckily I made two important discoveries, the first being that I put my iTunes on my work computer. Then Sue e-mailed me with a link to a motherlode of photos from her wedding back in July. A little known bit of Pauline trivia is that I can legally marry people within the five boroughs. (Yes, it's scary to think that some people see me as a spiritual leader.)

The photos were all taken by the amazing Photogrpaher Bruno, a man you should call for all your photography needs. He can do some outstanding things with a camera.

I picked a few shots from the 1,000 or so (no lie) that Bruno took. More on La Flickr, as usual.

There's A Lot of Paperwork Involved With Marrying People


The Happy Couple And Their Cake (Which Was Really Good)


A Quirky Shot of Sue at the Mirror


Kristin, Looking Purty


Me, After I Just Legally Married Two People


Les Fleurs


Also, I should add that the good folks over at Gawker were nice enough to link to my piece from The Simon. Thanks!

Okay, back to flipping through my iTunes. Ella, it's been too long. And what's this? House of Pain?!?! Aw yeah...I think it's time for a little newsroom dance party...

The Long Haul

I just started an 11-hour shift at work, so I'm going to be here for a while. (Actually, I'm one hour and 20 minutes into it.) Feel free to e-mail me sometime today with anything that might amuse. Do you have photos from any of the events over the past weeks? I would love to see them. Maybe I will even post them.

My plans for the week-end are equally tame. More work tomorrow and on Sunday I plan to buy a new laptop and iPod. For those of you keeping track, that's the third iPod of the year. Yes, I abuse things, particurally electronics.

I should add that this is the first week-end in a long time that doesn't have me putting on a nice skirt to fete someone's nuptuals or on a train headed for some other state. So maybe a week-end in town will be fun. I should get to dance class. It's been a while since I did a triple time step.

OK, there are alarms going off over here. Does anything work in this building? Even the elevators have been down since last year's Republican Convention.

Well I Know My Name Is Simon...

I have a new column up on The Simon today. It's a short one because I've been up to my eyeballs in work and I don't function well (or at all) when I don't sleep. I've been meaning to write one about Chuck Klosterman for weeks now, but I haven't gotten through all his books, mostly because of the aforementioned work and the social obligations that you read and see so much about on this blog. Someday, though...someday...

Tomorrow I am working from noon until eleven o'clock at night. If I get cranky around nine, as I usually do when I have to do that much overtime, don't be alarmed.

I was also going to talk some serious shite today about Ess-A-Bagel on First Avenue and 21st Street, because I had a less than pleasant dining experience.

For starters, I don't know what's up with them not toasting bagels. Instead, they make them "hot." Um, not toasting a bagel is a tease, kind of like dry humping when what you really want is to have sex. Secondly, they get angry when you ask for a bagel that they no longer have, such as the ubiquitous egg bagel, my favorite. I had slept until noon and was ravenously hungry. The last thing I needed was a hostile bagel boy. Bah.

My morning trip to the bagel shoppe is sacred to me, and I realize the error in my ways by going to Ess-A-Bagel. Gramercy Bagels, I will never stray again.

C'etait Un Week-End Supair!

The funny thing about week-ends is how much you can cram into them. This past week-end I went to one loft party in the West Village, (no photos available yet), one bridal shower in Connecticut, had drinks with some old skool chums, worked a bit and then went on a pseudo-date. It was all awesome.

There is a stereotype that women don't really enjoy going to bridal showers, yet we have to go out of obligation. I would argue that baby showers are far worse, because at some point everyone at your table will start talking about their vaginas.

At bridal showers, all that really goes on is you eat, you schmooze, you open gifts and hopefully you'll get a nice party favor at the end. (I've gotten everything from umbrellas to picture frames to teacup candle holders.) Jen's shower this week-end was a lot of fun. Her family is awesome, there was a huge crowd and the food was great. Here are some photos:

Jen and Her Grandma Lee


Jen and Me


Jen, Proud of All Her New Goodies


Later that night I ventured uptown to 90th and Broadway to meet up with Julie, Allison [Sachs & Balls] and Kristin for drinks. Julie's getting married the week after Jen, and she moved down to Orlando almost a year ago. We've all been Julie-less for months, so I was eager to hang out. The withdrawl was killing me.

Some snaps from the evening:

There Was Lots of Yip-Yapping


A Really Cool Bodega Cat


A Cocktail or Two


Sunday I had dinner with this nice Midwestern guy, Workman. He's a friend, a singer and a lover of cats. (Kitty cat!) He can also do long division in his head. It's kinda hot.

Workman's also a good guy to have on speed dial in case you ever find that you have to quickly move out of your apartment. I've seen him single-handedly move seven-foot tall bookcases -- with the books still in them!

Workman got stuck with the check at dinner and the cab fare home, yet for some reason I don't think he's mad at me. The Pauline charm strikes again!


That was quite an update. I hope you're all sated.

Flickr, I Shake My Fist at You!

I finally got back all the photos from this week-end and they really are awesome. However, as soon as I wanted to upload them, Flickr seems to having some tech difficulties. I am vexed, but I guess all I can do is wait.

In the meantime, check out this awesome story from today's New York Times about the Porta-Potty millionaire who wants to build and put up developments all over Broad Channel in Queens.

...And Darnit, People Like Me!!

Hello all, sorry about the lapse yesterday. It was a day full of appointments and shopping. If I had the liberty to expand on the topic I would, but sufice it to say I had to be Professional Pauline, as opposed to Wandering Around Gramercy in Flip Flops And My Hair In Knots Pauline. So that is that.

I will say that I have reached a point where I don't want to shop anymore, at least not for a very long time. I feel like Richard Pryor in "Brewster's Millions." I don't have millions, but the few rubles I have to my name are being spent and spent, and frankly, it's getting a little old. That said, for the rest of the week, I vow to devote myself to philanthropy.

The photos from this week-end will be in and up tomorrow. Mark your calenders accordingly.

Today I came in and found the following e-mail in my box. I don't know if this guy is serious, but it was flattering in many ways.

Dear MRS.PAULINE
I'm a great fan of you. Therefore I would be happy if you could send me two autographs of you.
Many thanks in advance and all the best for you.
Sincerly
GOTTFRIED SCHMAUS

This e-mail is particurally notable because I once had an Uncle Gottfried on my mother's side who was married to my Aunt Sonya. Like many of the males on my mother's side, I believe he died of some sort of stomach cancer. However, the fact that is last name us "Schmaus" (rhymes with mouse) makes me wonder if someone is messing with me. Most likely, yes. Hooorah!

Another Pauline Surfaces

I knew that if I built it they would come. Sure enough, this week-end another Pauline e-mailed me let me know that not only was she a Pauline, but that she was 31 years old and lives in Brooklyn. See, not every Pauline is a card-carrying member of the AARP. (OK, I am, but only because my dad is named Paul and the AARP sent me a card a few years ago thinking I was him. But that's another story...)

Pauline D. had this to say in her message:

Sometimes when you post photos on your blog it's a sort of surreal experience for me -- like, here's my alter ego dancing... oh look, here's my alter ego celebrating someone else's birthday... etc. etc. I imagine this is a feeling to which the zillions of Jennifers and Elizabeths out there can't quite relate.

So true. Are there any others? Pauline? Bueller?

This week-end I shot another two rolls of film (yes...film...) of Jennifah's bridal shower as well as an outing with Julie and a few other old skool Syracuse girls. They'll be up and processed by Wednesday or so.

I'm Not the Only Pauline

Amongst most people I know I'm the only Pauline. However, I realize the world is probably full of other Paulines. Who are they? What's their story?

Today, since there is little else going on, I decided to reach out into the world and see who else shares my name. I'm kind of getting tired of hearing, "You're named Pauline? That was my grandmother's name! If I had a daughter I would defintely make that her middle name." Screw you, it's a great first name!

So I did a Google search. Strangely, my site didn't come up until the fourth page. (Um, how about some clicks, people?)

Regardless, here's what I found:

pauline.org
Is the website (and blog!) of The Daughters of Saint Paul, a group of nuns in the Boston area. They even hold retreats for high school girls thinking about joining the sisterhood. How nice of them.

LeggyPauline.com
This is the of homepage of a woman named Pauline (not me) who has a sort of nylon, stocking and shoe fetish. If this sort of thing is your bag, then by all means, give her a click.

PaulineNordin.com
Seems to be a muscular fitness model. I didn't look at it all that long because I wasn't sure if it was safe for work.

Pauline.tv
Is a singer of the rock variety, me thinks. I like that she is a .tv. That's awesome.

www.paulineyorkband.com
Is a roots and blues band in the Chicago area.

So there you go, a few more Paulines. Are you a Pauline? If so, hit me back.

As for me, last night I continued my shopping excursion, this time moving over to Lexington Avenue because Fifth Avenue appears to close up by 7:00 PM. (What's up with that?) I got some new bras at Bloommies and a slick new interview suit at Express that a salesgirl and another customer helped me pick out. All is right in the world

You're Not Having a Crisis, You're Just Bored

Last night Cara and I went to Tiffany's to buy some bridal shower gifts for a friend. Amazingly, her registry is almost already sold out, and the shower is almost a month away. Luckily, I scored what I was after and I got to carry my big blue box and bag all over the east side for the rest of the evening.

Shopping at Tiffany's is an experience. For starters, the customer service is obscenely good. These people actually know what they're talking about when you ask them questions about china patterns and place settings. They encourage you to sit and rest while they wrap up your gifts. I've never felt so cavalier about handing over a charge card as I did when I had to pay. I didn't even know how much I spent until I looked at the receipt hours later. The receipt, I might add, is on thicker paper than anything you'd get at Bloomingdale's, and they put it in a little envelope for you. So this is how the other half lives...

After shopping we stopped for some brick over pizza up on 55th Street. I was telling Cara that lately I felt like I was having some sort of strange, quarter life crisis. Cara sort of rolled her eyes at me and said, "Look, Pauline. You're a smart girl. You're creative. You've done a lot in your six years in New York. You've done the cool news job, you've done the masters degree from Columbia, you live alone in Gramercy and you've dated some pretty respectable men. (Except for that one guy who never wore shoes. But he was really hot.) You're not having a crisis. You're bored. You just need something new."

And you know what? Cara, always the beacon of truth, was right. I'm not having a crisis, I just need something that can hold my attention. So if I start getting more into photography or take up Ukrainian folk dancing, I can assure you that I'm not losing my mind. I'm just looking for the Next Big Thing.

I have little else to report, so I leave you with two good stories from today's New York Times.

Addicts Discuss the Killer Heroin Rumors

What to Do About September 11, 2005

Deb and Abby's Birthday at Crime Scene

Saturday night we all came out of our holes to mark the birthdays of Deb and Abby at Crime Scene. It was my typical Syracuse crowd, the ones that are always good for a guaranteed good time. (Who threw the watermelon into the hot tub?)

That said, here are some highlights from the evening, which came complete with a pretty good DJ and an extremely large bachelorette party. The humdity was surreal, and I apologize in advance for the over-fluffiness of my hair. (No Aqua Net was harmed in the making of this evening.)

Please note: There are no shots of Abby because even though I took some either the light or the angle wasn't right and they didn't come out so well. Apologies all around.

More can be found on Flickah

The Obligatory Velazquez/Pauline Shot


Deb Shakes Her Groove Thing


Godfrey Never Ceases to Amuse Me


Mmmm...Red Bull

Tomorrow Night's Plans...

I was looking over my schedule and I realized that I have two big bridal showers coming up. Bridal showers can be a lot of fun, but one can't show up empty handed. I needed to do some shopping.

I called my amazing friend Cara and asked her if she'd want to come with me tomorrow night. She's also going to one of the showers so why not bring along some moral support?

Here is how our conversation went:

Pauline: Okay, so I'll meet you at 6:00 PM in front of Tiffany's. From there we can move on to Fortunoff.
Cara: That sounds great. But can we make a quick stop at Versace? I want to see if their gowns are on sale.
Pauline: Of course you do.

I'm sure once I've picked up tea cups and serving platter we'll stop for Fro Yo somewhere along the way. It is a charmed life.

A Link for You All to Enjoy...

I have little to report this afternoon, so I direct you to a New York writer who has many opinions about downtown Manhattan, including opinions on some of my opinions. He has, as they say in many writing workshops, good energy.

Eat the Rich, Smack the Bitch

Don't worry, my feelings aren't hurt.

It's 9:00 PM...What Am I Still Doing At Work?

I know I soberly agreed to work these extra hours but I'm really wondering what I was thinking at the time. Sure, the extra dough will be nice next month when I'm in Vegas (I gotta start that retirement fund sometime) but nine hours with barely a dinner break is not my idea of fun. I'm also in the middle of a strange Quartlerlife Crisis. No worries, it's all ironing itself out. I would just prefer to crisis on my own couch while watching Laguna Beach than under the glow of flourescent lights.

So, how about some links?

Another reason to adore the French: Father and Son Win Pig Squeal-Off

The New York Times also hated Lennon: The Musical, which I saw about a month ago before it opened. (I love how they call it "drippy". Ha.)

Borrow the handbags that you can't otherwise afford.

The Long Haul

We're a little understaffed at The Job today, so I am going to be here until midnight. I got in at noon. I will repeat this process tomorrow as well, as I start a six-day work week. Last week was the same way. Thank goodness for the interweb. I think it's the only way I'll stay sane, besides envisioning the paycheck that is to come out all of this. Please e-mail me. It will make me happy.

Employment aside, with every week there comes a week-end and I am feeling quite rested after mine. Friday night I saw, "The Skeleton Key" which was awesome. Go see it if you haven't already. I dare say that Kate Hudson is a far better actress than her mother. Maybe that's not saying much, though.

Saturday I worked and then readied for Deb and Abby's gathering at Crime Scene. I bought a new sparkly top and some earrings, gifts for the girls and some magazines. If I am good at nothing else, it is spending money.

You'll remember how bastardly humid it was on Saturday and my hair repsonded accordingly. At the gathering, which I'll have photos of on Wednesday or so, I was unintentionally rocking some serious Tawny Kittaen hair. (As opposed to The Rachel from my birthday party.) It was a crime against Aqua Net. (And for all you South Pacific alums, no, I wasn't even using that much White Rain.)

I skipped dance class Sunday morning partly due to the heat (the studios at Broadway Dance don't have AC) and partly because sleep was of the essense. Once I came to, I gave my apartment a serious cleaning. Bleach and Lysol were involved. See, when one lives in a basement apartment you have to keep the place pretty clean, otherwise Mr. and Mrs. Waterbug will move in. They don't pay rent, so I don't like them to come over.

The thing about cleaning my place is that I have to keep the front door open in order to get all the fumes out and increase ventilation. (I learned this household tip the hard way after getting light-headed after one ambitious cleaning excursion.) If the front door is open I can't turn on the AC. That would be a waste. That said, by late afternoon yesterday was covered in sweat and I was already only wearing a tank top and some spandex dance shorts. It looked like I had been dropped in a pool. I was tossing out some trash bags when I heard the rain starting to come down, and for about twenty minutes I just sat in my big wicker chair and listened to it. I like thunderstorm to begin with, and yesterday's was especially welcome.

Today someone sent me the new Hillary Duff album. Totally unprompted. Thanks!

Obligatory Cat Photo

It's just not a blog unless there are some random cat photos, so here is one of Noozle, one of the many animals that live at the house I was watching last week.

It's Friday, it's payday and every difficult co-worker I've had to deal with this week is off. Without being indiscrete, I will say that I had to write a sort of mean e-mail to a colleage who was basically trying to call me a moron. I've never had to do that before but, being that she is one of the most morose, non-frontational people I have ever met, it was necessary. If there's one thing I don't mind it's a good confrontation. This kitten's got claws!

Here's a sample:

I also don't appreciate in the least bit the way you were trying to blame me for things that most likely were not my fault. We are in the business of facts, so let's try to stick to them.

I'm not sure what you hope to gain from any of this, but for everyone's sake, just address me directly and without any attitude. Courtesy is contagious and karma is a boomerang.

Cheers,
Pauline

So I'm glad that this week is over, I can focus on another large project this week-end as well as hit a party. And Sunday dance class. And of course, the cinema.

Jennifah Turns 28!

Jen and I have been friends literally since we were about seven or eight years old. In kindergarten I remember Jen from the playground, although we were in different classes. In second grade at Catholic school we were in the same class and we've pretty much been friends ever since. It helped that she lived around the corner from me and there was always an extra chair at her dinner table.

She's engaged, has a great apartment and a great fella. Even though her life is pretty sweet, Ant (The Man) decided to throw her a surprise birthday party, complete with a Strawberry Shortcake theme. I should note this will not be the theme of her October wedding.

We Danced!


Everyone Tried on Jen's Party Hat


We schmoozed


I Tried to Catch the Cat


I'm putting out fires left and right around here, dealing with difficult (read: clinically insane) coworkers and planning trips. It's a hard knock life.

Upcoming: This week-end is Deb and Abby's Big Bag Birthday Bash. Photos next week fo sho!

The Photos Are Coming...

I'm going to put together a post about Jen's birthday from last Saturday, but until then warm up your palate with my latest column from The Simon. It's about the Starbucks that's coming to the Lower East Side here in Manhattan.

Or you could just click on La Flickr and amuse yourself with the two new sets. The choice is yours. (You can get with this, or you can get with that...)

It Was a Wednesday....

Wow. It really is August because one day just seems to glide right into the next and it's still amazingly hot. Since I've been back I've been shuttling myself from work and then back home, where I sit down and write even more.

I have a large writing project due this week and I very much wanted to get it done by today. (Actually, my editor wanted it done by today.) But when sources and publicists don't get back to me, my hands are tied, even if I finally do have internet access. (This time last week I was hanging out with dogs and trees in Connecticut yet had no access to e-mail.)

Last night I did a phone interview, read some Chuck Klosterman and ate rainbow sherbert for dinner. I should have gone for a run but by the time I came home and decompressed from work, the sun was going down and there was no time to run through the East River Park. I watched Law and Order, which is not something I usually do, because generally speaking I don't watch television, except for Laguna Beach on MTV.

So, my life is slow right now. I should be glad about this because as of this week-end it revs up again. Next week and through September and October I'll be working like a horse, going to bridal showers and bachelorettes and hopefully teaming up with a new voice coach, now that I can't do the fall musical with The Heights Players. (Wedding-palooza is keeping me from the stage, at least through the rest of 2005.)

I thought it was really cool that total strangers were leaving comments on the blog. I love comments! And yes, taking pictures of perfect strangers on East 17th Street is creepy. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought so.

By the way, I'm picking up the Westport photos tonight (then going for a run!) so tomorrow you'll have plenty to feast your eyes on.

There will also be a new column of mine on The Simon. Boo ya!

Creepy Guy With a Camera

Last night I needed a re-adjustment walk around the Union Square area after I got back into New York. I walked down Second Avenue and then hooked a right at 17th Street and headed west. That's where I noticed this nasty guy taking pictures of every single person that passed him. He took one of me and at first I thought nothing of it. Then, when I stopped to tie my shoe he ended up walking in front of me which is when I noticed exactly what he was doing.

The best part is that his camera was this duct taped piece of digital shite. But he literally took a shot everyone between Second Avenue and Union Square. The good witch in me wants to hope that these pictures were for some sort of art project. The skeptic in me wonders if it was just a coincidence that he seemed to only be shooting women.

Either way it's creepy.

Take Me Back to Manhattan...

...take me back to New York.

That's a line from a Cole Porter song, "Take Me Back to Manhattan" and I am pleased to report that I made it back from my week in the 'burbs. Many an observation was made about city vs. country life, at least while I wasn't almost being run over by SUVS when I was out on my assorted runs this week-end. People seem to think that when they're driving back country roads in their gas guzzler cars they can speed as if they're in a Lexus commericial. This is not so, particurally when folks like me are just trying to finish a little four mile jog.

Anyway, I just dropped off three rolls of film from last week and from Jennifah's party last night. They'll be up Thursday or Friday. Sure, I could have gotten them done in an hour, with a photo CD, but you can't get matte prints in an hour, only glossy, at least not at the CVSs in Gramercy. I'm a dork for matte prints and so everyone has to wait to see the tom foolery from last night.

Now I have to go home and deal with reality (read: mail) as well as a number of fashion magazines that came in over the week. I love fall, even if it still is the middle of August.

But I do miss the Volvo station wagon. We had some good times last week, kiddo.

Working Vacation

Despite what others may think, watching a house, three dogs and a cat is harder than it seems. For starters, these creatures control my day. I have to be out of bed by nine in the morning to feed them and let them out. Then no matter where I go during the day, be it to a relative's house to swim in the Long Island Sound or just to the dining room table to work, they have to be fed again by 5:00 PM. They're like little kids.

Today as I was on the phone working on some large scale projects the golden retriever and the lab mix dog wouldn't stop barking. I've got these assorted experts on the horn and Buster and Remy felt it was a great time to fight over an old tennis ball. They didn't want to go out because it was so hot nor did they want to shut up. It was maddening.

Anyhoo, work was actually completed today despite my lack internet at the house (Hello, Kinkos!). I also finally found some Red Bull at the Stop and Shop and stocked up. So all is right in the world.

This week-end is the SoNo Arts Festival, which should bring all the old skool Norwalkers out of their holes. It's also Jennifah's birthday, which will yield some photos, fo sho. Stay tuned, as always.

Way Too Hot

It's really hot and the power keeps going out in Wesport so I'm hopping in the Volvo and heading down to Old Greenwich for a few hours. Suburban life is kinda fun, even if I still won't drive on the highway. (Baby steps, kids...)

Powerless

Grrr.

Today there was a huge power outtage on the street of the house that I am watching. Power and interweb were down ALL DAY.

That said, if you are an editor that I owe work to...sorry! I meant to hunker down and knock 80% of it out but with no power, cell phone or internet, I was more or less screwed. The internet still isn't working quite right, but I'll try to sort that out.

Just please don't kill me. I can't leave the burden of my student loans to my family.

In other news, I almost bought a $400 dress today at BCBG over in the Wesport shopping district. (You know the one, by the river.) It was one of those hot, red halter numbers that seem to have been made for me and would have been great for Julie's wedding in October. However, it was $400 and I believe firmly in sales. (BCBG is always good for that.)

Still, it was perfect.

Tomorrow night is the BBQ. Call me if you want to swing by. Admittance is by six-pack only. ;-)

Hellooooo from Westport!

Today was my first full day as The Housesitter. It was historic on many levels. For starters, I drove a car (and a Volvo station wagon at that!) for this first time in six years!! I was nervous for maybe the first ten minutes, especially since I had to go from the quiet side streets right onto the Post Road. (It was the only way to get to the beach...) But pretty soon I was leaning back, blasting Z-100 (bad suburban habits die hard) and getting reacquainted with things like stop signs and parking lots.

The beach was great but full of jellyfish, so I decided to take a drive around parts of Fairfield County, my old stomping grounds. Norwalk, where I grew up, hasn't changed all that much. However, Brien McMahon High School has gone through some sort of space-agey transformation. They even have air conditioning. When I was there I was amazed if I got a new textbook.

Anyway, people are coming over Wednesday night for BBQ (you're welcome as well...) Until then I am keeping busy with assorted projects. I have a zillion books to read, a few writing projects and three dogs to keep me company. Ramie and Buster are the two big dogs. Ramie is an uber-friendly golden retriever who just wants to have a tennis ball tossed to him all day long. His dopey sidekick is a spazzy pug named Yogi with a gimp hip. He's sleeping on the couch right now. Buster is the dark, brooding middle child who would prefer to be left alone so he can sniff around the bushes and bark at the cat, Noozle.

I have noticed a strange shortage of Red Bull here in the 'burbs. As in, I can't find any. In New York City you can buy it at any corner drugstore. Here in Westport, it's a little hard to come by. I had to buy some cheap imitation at the Stop and Shop today. It was lovely going to a real grocery store, but I'll take a filthy bodega stocked with the lightly carbonated, caffeinated beverage of my choice rather than a store that takes up over an acre but doesn't have my sweet, sweet nectar

By the way, the above photo was taken a few days ago when Photographer Bruno and I went to the Maritime hotel. It was good times, as is par for the course with Bruno.

Okay, time to prepare for Laguna Beach. That show rocks.

P.S. I should add that there is little more disconcerting than being roused from sleep in a house you're not familiar with by the sound of three telephones ringing and not being able to find said phones. It's even worse when all you're wearing is a little tank top and your skivvies and the herniated disc in your back is torturing you for two weeks of no physical therapy.