More Vegas Photos

I've got 99 photos (but a bitch ain't one of 'em) of the Las Vegas week-end over on the Flickr, but here are some highlights from it:

Kristin Dancing at Rain at The Palms


Me So Sultry, Also at Rain


Who Knew Red Bull Came by the Bucket?


My Quest for the Perfect Tan


Everybody Dance Now!


Cheers!


This will be the last post for a few days. Tomorrow I'm off to New Haven for Jen's bachelorette. What is this life I lead? Let me know when I'm supposed to get serious about things.

Curiosity Killed The Cat

So Friendster's gone and ratted us all out for our casual and innocuous cyber-sleuthing. I once wrote a piece about Friendster for The Simon. Check it out.

If you need me, I'll be dying of embarassment in my Gramercy bunker.

On a less intrusive note, I got all the photos back from Vegas today. I'll be posting them up on Flickr over the course of the evening.

Tomorrow I'm off to New Heven for Jen's bachelorette party. Should be good times.

Spas and Tanning in Las Vegas

Just as I was sitting here, wondering what next to do with myself, the wonderful Allison sent over her snaps from Las Vegas. More can be found here. Here are some highlights:

The Strip


Julie, The Lovely Bride


Sydney and I, In Matching Outfits (Unintentional!)


Somehow We Ended Up in a Limo


Another Angle of That Limo (?!?!?)


America West Suuuuuuucks (Yes, All Those People Were Trying to Get on Red-Eye Fights)


Tomorrow, even more!!!

Wonders of Sleep

I tried to write a nice post before but Blogger got all choked up on me. Huh.

Anyhow, I thought I would go to dance class this morning but when I was roused from sleep by the hundreds of kids running past my window en route to the two schools on my block, I decided to go back to bed. Sleep is a luxury I don't often get, and I take advantage of it whenever I can. It seems to beworking. I'm very calm today and, dare I say, focused on my work? How often does that happen?

When we were in Vegas we were consantly awake. I totally understand why those Real World cast members always seemed s cracked out. We would stay up until the wee hours and then foolishly fall asleep with the curtains open, only to have the desert sun pour in hours later. Then someone would get up, head down to the pool and stake out some chairs for the rest of crew as we trickled in one by one.

In a few weeks I will start a new job here at The Job, it's not so much a new position as it is a remix of what I already do. I'm sure it will be a lot of fun. I'm looking forward to it.

Still no sign of the digi pics from Vegas. I sent Allison an e-mail. There were a lot, so maybe she is working on them. I get my five rolls back tomorrow. Hang on to your hats!

My Friend Sue in a Magazine

If you look in the current issue of New York Weddings, you'll see my friend Sue. Why is this notable? Not only is this the wedding that I officiated, but New York ran her piece about how she found her dress over four years ago on a whim in an Upper East Side thrift shop. It's a great story which ultimately led to her meeting her husband. Life is a cabaret.

You can't read the story online, you have to dig up the magazine.

Have fun!

Behold the Giant Squid!

Science dorks of the world unite! Researchers in Japan have captured footage of a real-life Giant Squid.

For those of you following this bit of marine lore, no one has ever actually seen a live Giant Squid. Dead ones have washed up on shore and inside sperm whales, who feed on them, but no one's ever seen one. Plenty of people spend their lives trying to see one, but to no avail.

This one seems to be about 26 feet long.

Read the whole story here. This is awesome!

I Mourn the Lack of Rhinestones

Hmmm....the digi pics from Vegas have yet to be sent over via Allison, so I guess we will all have to go yet another day without them. For shame. However, I did drop off five rolls of film today, which should be back by Friday or so.

Anyway, quick story from Vegas:
On Friday night the eight of us went out to dinner at Fix at the Bellagio. It was a cool place, but crowded and it only had one bathroom. I was drinking much water and diet coke, so instead of waiting on the line, I went out into the casino and used the ladies room a few feet away.

I was in the stall, adjusting my skirt, when I heard a young woman say, from another close stall, "I'm so sorry. Thank you for being so understanding."

Another voice said, "Don't worry. This happens all the time..."

"You see," the younger voice said, "We don't know how she got this way."

This was my cue to get out of my stall and see what was going on. When I stretched my neck over, a saw a young women, about 20 or so, seemingly lifeless, with her head right in the toilet. Outside the open stall was her friend, along with the bathroom attendant and a wheelchair. As I washed my hands I watched in the mirror as the two of them tried to pick this poor, limp girl up and get her into the chair.

This raises the question: Is it a sign of a good or a bad time in Vegas if you get so drunk that you have to be wheeled out of the Bellagio in a wheelchair at 10:00 PM?

Discuss.

Oh, and last Thursday, when I left, I had a piece on The Simon. Read it, love it and think of it as you drift off to sleep.

The Red-Eye Back From Vegas

Vegas was awesome. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.

I just finished interviewing a writer for a profile I'm writing for The Job, and now I'm off to teach a class. There will be a big, bad update later on, maybe tomorrow, of the week-end. (Oh, and no less than 8 zillion photos were taken of our adventures. No less!) Suffice it to say we stayed at THE Hotel at Mandalay Bay, where we had THE best time. (Sorry, that was way too easy of a joke.) We also hit the Bellagio for dinner and dancing, Caesar's for sick-ass shopping, and The Palms for all sorts of merriment. I also have a kick-ass tan....take THAT autumn. You'll never pale me.

I still don't understand how eight girls managed to stick together and enjoy each other all week-end without one cat fight. Wonders never cease.

But, never ever, ever take America West airlines for any reason, unless you want the worst air travel experience in the history of flight.

Viva Las Vegas!!

New York is all fine and grand but even the most cynical and jaded among us must leave on occaision.

This week-end I have a date with eight girls, four rooms and a cabana at the Mandalay Bay. It's for Julie's bachelorette party. We're all trickling in today and all taking the red eye home on Sunday night. We're trying to squeeze as much as we can out of this trip.

If you need me, I'll be someone's Lady Luck at the craps table.

Be well, everyone!

If You've Got a Warrant, I Guess You're Gonna Come In...

Sure, back in the 90's everyone wanted to be Kate Moss. Not only was she small and pretty and a supermodel...but she's only 5'7, giving hope to all the other girls on the cusp of tall, but who weren't your typical, Amazonian tall like the other super models. If Moss and her heroin-chic look could make it, heck, couldn't we all?

Anyhoo, we're all familiar with Moss' recent unpleasantness. Being caught doing cocaine on film can't make your parents proud. It seems H&M is going to keep her around, but recent wire stories are pointing towards how the British fuzz want to investigate her. I guess they're concerned about her impact on young people, blah...blah...blah.

A few hours later it was also announced that Chanel does not plan to renew her contract, even though Moss has been the face of the CoCo Mademoiselle perfume since 2002. Chanel says this decision has nothing to do with Moss' scrapes of bad press.

Of course not.

Everything is Ukrainian

I had to take a sick day yesterday because the herniated disc in my back was acting up and I could barely move. When this happens, it's best if I lie on a flat surface or move around, as opposed to being hunched over a desk and keyboard.

I also went visit to Dr. Boris, my Ukrainian neurologist. He's been keeping tabs on the situation since February, when I noticed the shooting pain down my left leg. He's the one who shot me up with cortizone and who keeps me well-stocked with painkillers. (No, I won't share...) He reassures me that I have to learn how to manage the injury (which we think was a product of too much running) and not keep begging for more cortizone shots. After all, I'm not a linebacker. I don't really need them all the time.

Later that night I was sitting around my apartment, wondering why it was so hot inside when it was relatively cool outside. I put on some clothes and went to go see "Everything is Illuminated." It's one of my favorite books and a few years back I interviewed Jonathan Safran Foer. It's still one of my favorite interviews. He was funny.

Long story short, the film is amazing. I mean, really amazing. I've heard a lot of people complain that the book was too hard too follow or a little slow, but I think the movie boils it down well. They got rid of the entire story line that takes place in Trachimbrod in the 1700s and focused on the present-day search to find the old village. The best part is that half of it is in Russian, or at least I think it's Russian and not Ukrainian, because I was actually picking up some of the phrases. Last time I checked, I don't speak Ukrainian. I don't really speak Russian either, but I know when some says, "I don't know!" (Yah Neez Nigh-yoo) or Slow down! (Palmalinkuh!)

Oh, and the soundtrack is phenomenal. Could a nice publicist send me over a copy? I mean, I get CDs and stuff in the mail all the time, but the soundtrack to this film is one I would really want.

There are also many things I could say about the brilliant performance of Eugene Hurtz, but most striking is that I am convinced he is the hottest man alive this side of the Volga River. Now everyone's going to want to date tall, lanky Russian guys with big eyes. If I did that, I think my mother would die of happiness.

Nazdrovia.

Away

I'm away from the computer today, so I have little to report. In fact, things may be a little light around here until I get back from Vegas on Monday. I don't leave until Thursday night, but, you know...preparations must be made and supplies must be stocked up. I also need a haircut.

I will say that I've been listening to Madonna's True Blue album a lot lately, mostly because I heard "Live to Tell" on the radio twice within two days. Odd indeed. This prompted me to hustle over to the Virgin Mega Store in Union Square and buy a copy.

I bought True Blue on vinyl when I was about 10 years old and it was one of my favorite albums, along with Poison's Look What the Cat Dragged In and, inexplicably, Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam's album, the one that had "Lost in Emotion" on it.

Until a few days ago I hadn't spent any time with True Blue, but it was a nice reunion. I also didn't realize that the original verison only had nine songs on it. Nine! What were we paying for? I mean, the indie rockers nowadays can get away with 10 or so (The Killers and Franz Ferdinand immediately come to mind) but nine?!?! Oh, those wacky 80s.

So. Yeah. I think I'll go get some hummus now. Or something.

And I'm This Exhausted Because......

Newflash: I actually went an entire week-end without any sort of wedding-related activity. Hoorah!

Friday: After a manicure I hopped on the N train over to Brooklyn Heights to see The Height's Players production of Brighton Beach Memoirs with Ashley. It was awesome. It's one of my favorite plays and they do an amazing job with it. It runs for one more week-end, so by all means check it out.

After the show Ashley and I hung around with a few other people we know from the theater. You'll remember this is the same place where I did South Pacific this past spring, and I hadn't been back since. Anyway, it was really nice to lurk around the stage and dressing room again, although I noticed that the after-show vibe was totally different than that of South Pacific. After a South Pacific show, people would hang out for hours eating, drinking and smoking cigarettes while the Brighton Beach crowd seemed to clear out immediately. Granted there are only about eight people in Brighton Beach Memoirs and there were easily 40 in South Pacific.

I made a quick stop at Pioneer back in Manhattan on the way home to say hey to Linda. By then I was so tired from all the boozing and schmoozing at the theater I just needed to get home.

Saturday: Shame I had to be up so early. I agreed to run in the Race for the Kids 5K Road Race over on the west side, so up I was at 8:15 AM. Although I run a lot, I had never done a race before, so this was a bit of a new challenge.

I finished in 29:30, which for a 5K leans towards the shitty side. I could have done so much better. For starters, a Power Bar and a can of Red Bull does not a healthy race-day breakfast make. Also, I totally underestimated the heat. I came to the race wearing a pair of shorts and a little shirt, then put the race T-shirt over that. Silly move! I sweat way too much and became totally overheated. But I guess lessons were learned for the next race, which should be soon.

Sunday: One would think Sunday would be a day of rest, but one would be wrong. I was roused from sleep once again before noon to go see the Russian Exhibit at the Guggenheim. It's basically an overview of Russian art from the icons of the 13th century or so to the modern day. It's really cool. Go see it.

However, my mom is really into art and she likes to get close to paintings. So close, that when we were in one of the galleries she got yelled at in Russian, by one of the guards. My mom spoke back to her in Russian, saying that she wasn't touching the painting at all. (She actually wasn't.) What amazed me was how the Russians were able to spot their own kind. My mom and I spoke English to each other, yet every few paintings someone would say something to her in Russian, and thus a conversation would ensue.

After she headed back to Connecticut I cleaned a bit and met up with Workman. He and a bunch of his friends from Michigan were hanging out on 30th Street. Football was watched and a duck salad was consumed.

This time next week I'll be pulling myself together after a loooong week-end in Las Vegas. In terms of this week, my only goals are to get to dance class and rearrange my furniture. I'm a simple gal.

No Talking on the Metro-North!

The last time I was up this early I was pulling on exercise clothes to go to an early morning dance class. Sadly, there is no music or dancing at The Job. Intravenous CNN does not count as entertainment.

The dress fitting last night went well. My dress fits, save for some loose sleeves and a long hem. Jen loved all the pearls I picked up. Afterwards I lost 3% of my New York City street cred by having dinner at a Pizzaria Uno.

After a looong wait at the Fairfield train station with a crazy man laughing at jokes only he could hear, I headed back to NYC. The Metro North train is a fascinating animal. During the work week it can be extremely quiet...no talking allowed. In the mornings it's men and women in suits with their newspapers of choice. In the evenings the same people zone out and fall asleep, usually with beers and cocktails in their laps. If you want to be loud or play cards you go to the bar car. It's an unspoken system, yet it works and dates back to the days when my dad used to ping pong back and forth between Connecticut and New York City. Yesterday I even got dirty looks from tired passengers when I called Jen on my cell as we were leaving the East Norwalk station.

At 10:30 PM last night, when my train finally pulled into Stamford before going express to Grand Central, these three drunk Brits got on. There were two guys and a girl. Sometimes I call the Metro-North the Vomit Comet because of all the post-party detritus you can see on it. The 1:30 AM train out of Grand Central is particurally good for watching drunk men in suits pass out on seats with their monthly passes hanging out of their pockets.

Anyway, the three Brits clearly had a good time that night because they were all laughing and carrying on. Good for them. Even better was when one of the guys got on his cellphone and said to his room mate, "I really need you to be home in about an hour. I seem to have misplaced my keys and I don't want to have to sleep on the door step again." I think the key word in that statement was again.

Then I realized that the most drunk out of the three was the blonde girl, who everyone in the car quickly learned was named Emily because one of the guys kept saying, "Emily, you're going to need to stop shouting." Emily, indignant that anyone would try to muzzle her said over and over, "Ahn--Drew, why cahn't I tawlk? I'm on the traaaaaain..."

I really wanted to tell Miss Emily that she couldn't talk because it was almost 11:00 PM on "school night" and as happy as I was to see that she was enjoying her youth in the Big City, I was in no way in the mood to listen to a drunk, high-pitched, cockney accent without the buffer of a few pints in my system.

I focused my attention on the book I was reading, Benjamin Kunkel's Indecision. After a few pages I realized it had become eerily quiet across the aisle where my new British friends were sitting. I looked over and laughed out loud...all three were passed out cold. So much for wanting to tawk.

So that is that.

My plans for the week-end are spotty at best. Perhaps a party, perhaps some dance class and defintely some laundry. A few days ago I was all psyched and ready to channel my inner housewife and do a few loads. Then I realized I was out of detergent and it was too late to go the bodega to get more. So I left that pile of clothes in the front hall and continued reading fashion magazines.

Sunday my mom and I are going to see the Russian exhibit at the Guggenheim. She called me up last night and said that we absolutely must go, especially now that Vladimir Putin has gone. I guess if it's good enough for him, it's good enough for us. She also claims that I must go with her, so she can explain all the Russian art. Because we all know there's no way I could possibly understand the plight of the Russian people without her.

Nazdrovia.

Out And About

I've had two days off from The Job, which means I've had a zillion other things to do. I finished my big magazine piece and sent it in about three minutes ago. Now for the edits. (In preperation, I'll be stocking up on hard liquor.)

After all the writing yesterday I had to go to tap class to let off some steam. I actually feel like I'm becoming a better tap dancer. This was one of goals for 2005. Hooray!

I'm off to Connecticut now for a dress fitting for Jen's wedding. I also just spent $60 on fake pearl jewlery, because I don't know what's going to go well with the dress. Who does that? I can't even return it!

Be well, everyone. And enjoy some of the new shots on the Flickr feed.

Julie's Bridal Shower...Part One

My friend Julie is one of those always happy, always fun people. I guess I met her when we were both at Syracuse. She seems to have always been around. So when she got engaged last year, all of us were pretty excited. Then she moved to Orlando, leaving us all with a hole in our hardened, New York City hearts. We've been licking our wounds ever since.

But she came back this week-end for her shower, and we gave her all the china and flatware she asked for. We also made her a funny hat. Next week-end we're all going to Las Vegas for her bachelorette party to have far more fun than we'll know what to do with. Then it'll be her wedding, which I'm sure will be a multi-sensory experience. To Good Things!

Here are some highlights from the Sunday afternoon tea at Lady Mendl's Tea House. More to come. These are courtesy of Allison, who has one of the coolest cameras I've ever seen. (And she won't let me touch it. Ha.)

Some of Us Ladies


Julie and Her Sister Lauren (who is a younger, but equally cool version of Julie)


The Puppet Show


Cara and I


The whole, growing set can be found on La Flickr. Even more to come!

6 Years...And We've Never Had A Fight....

Today is my six-year anniversary at The Job. That means I've also been in New York City for six years.

I've had the same job the entire time I've been in New York. At first I took it because I needed to pay my rent, which at the time was $550 a month. (Now I pay $1,315. Yes, I am smoking crack.) The job ended up seeing me through the dot-com bubble, when all my friends got laid off, through two continous years of graduate school at Columbia, a few boyfriends, a trip to Bulgaria, and several epiphanies.

Now for a little self-indulgent, self assessement. In six years I have:

Lived in three neighborhoods: The Upper East Side, Chinatown (Bowery and Bayard, baby!) and finally, Gramercy.

Earned a masters degree.

Picked up my interest in singing and dancing again.

Sung at Carnegie Hall (twice)

Managed to consistently earn my living as a writer.

Landed a story assignment with a major magazine.

Finished one novel that, although it needs a solid edit, is in fact, done.

Not bad for a gal who scored a 380 on her math SAT. (Numbers. Who needs them?)

Me in My Dorky New Glasses

How does a person live 28 years without realizing that they are nearsighted? Not only am I nearsighted, I have to wear these things all the time. I'm so getting contacts. The last thing I want is to be mistaken for Lisa Loeb.

Anyway...my apartment is becoming less and less cluttered thanks in large part to the distribtion of the gifts for assorted people I've had for weeks. Saturday found me roused from sleep at 7:30 AM in an effort to get to Manasquan, NJ for my sister in law's baby's shower. The day consisted of lots of Millards, Koreans, food and enough baby clothes and products to make me want to refrain from child birth for another ten years.

Sunday was awesome Julie's bridal shower. It was at Lady Mendl's Tea House on Irving Place. Now, I live in that neighborhood and I never heard of Lady Mendl's. But sure enough, there it is, a perfectly intact Gramercy brownstone, right down to the light fixures and moldings. I have lots of pictures from both events, which should be up in the next few days.

You'll learn more about Julie and the crew when we all head out to Las Vegas next weekend for her bachelorette party.

In the meantime, here's a shot of Shakey, my friend Jen's cat. He rocks.

It's Like Christmas Over Here!

I hadn't checked my work snail mail in a few days, mostly because it's in another room that is nowhere near the bathroom. Little did I know there were a zillion packages waiting for me. I was afraid it was just galleys of chick lit novels, which for some reason people love to send me. Maybe I should actually read some of them as opposed to just leaving them in the lounge for other people to take home.

Anyhow, here is today's booty. I'm actually pretty psyched:

Outwitting History by Aaron Lansky. It's about a guy who saved a million Yiddish books. I actually saw this in Barnes and Nobles about a year ago and wanted to read it.

The Pocket DJ by Sarah Lewitinn. All sorts of cool iPod lists and some random music facts.

The soundtrack to the new movie Thumbsucker, which I'm going to see on the 12th. Aces.

A two-CD disc set of the top TV toons of all time, including Sex and the City, Three's Company and The Muppet Show. Thanks Jason.

I also got one chick lit novel. It's just not a day if someone isn't sending me a novel about a young woman seeking love and success in the big city. It's all tremendous.

All this on top of the awesome deals I got on a skirt and handbag for the assorted baby and bridal showers coming up this week-end. I should add that I was an inch away from being able to drive down to Manasquan, NJ tomorrow. Instead, it looks like I'm taking the PATH to Newark (that's hot) and then the train down to Manaquan (double hot). Then I'm loading up on all the free food and booze the Millards have put together for my sister-in-law's shower. Because that is what one does when they are Crazy Aunt Pauline. Bottoms up!

Excellent Use of the Word "Buttocks"

A friend of mine just pointed out this story to me:

Pet monkey escapes, bites boy on buttocks

KUALA LUMPUR, Malaysia (AP) _ A monkey, apparently a pet, escaped, then chased a 12-year-old boy into his house and bit him on the buttocks in the western Malaysian state of Pahang, a news report said Friday.

The monkey, which was believed to be a pet animal because there was a chain around its neck, ran up and down the street in the housing area in Kuantan town as it appeared just after dusk Wednesday, scaring people into their homes, the Bernama news agency reported.

Announcements

First off, I have a new column up at The Simon today. Please read it and love it.

Today I accepted a teaching position with the Gotham Writer's Workshop here in New York City. I will be teaching a survey class of non-fiction writing, covering everything from articles, essays, reviews, profiles and travel pieces. I start September 26th and go through December. No, this does not mean you have to start calling me Professor Pauline, but I won't correct you if you do.

My Friend Fivel

I have a mouse in the house. I have named him Fivel. I first saw Fivel a few days ago, scurrying across my kitchen floor and under my dishwasher. He is small but mighty and I can only blame myself for his arrival. It seems that I didn't take the trash out before I left for the holiday week-end, and something, (I would guess the leftover pudding containers) attracted him.

I figured Fivel just wandered in and wouldn't return once I took out the trash and cleaned up the counters. But oh, no. Fival is a curious fellow who seems to also like white bread, or at least that's what I assume based on the holes in my bag of sandwich bread. He also likes to chew on cardboard, from what I can hear late at night. Sometimes he even squeaks. Eek!

I am giving Fivel fair warning to leave. Here's your hat, what's your hurry? If I come home tonight and he is still there, rustling around in a bag or under a pile of clothes, I will have to choice but to bring out the glue traps. I'm a humane creature in the truest sense but being that Fivel is not paying any rent, like an unwelcome boyfriend, he must go.

I never had these sorts of problems when Pookie the Fearless, my beloved cat, was around. Pookie has been summering in Connecticut with my mom since the beginning of August because it was getting really hot in my apartment. I refused to leave the air conditioning on just for him, so off he went to rummage around a big house with lots of rooms and carpeting to sharpen his nails. I hear he is particurally found of chasing up and down the staircase, which surprised me considering how lethargic he was in New York. Maybe he feels the need to show off.

Nevertheless, Pooks needs to come back, back to anti-mouse patrol. I know he's not much of a mouser, but his 15 pound presence should keep Fivel in line.

Up All Night

Last night I thought I would just come home and pass out from exhaustion, but my New Yorker arrived amongst a pile of other mail. I started to flip through it, if only for the comics, when I started reading the Talk of the Town pieces about Hurricane Katrina. Next thing I knew it was 1:00 AM and I was nowhere near going to bed.

For some reason I can't seem to read enough about this story, even though I work in news and am surrounded by it at least eight hours a day. So good work, New Yorker. Once again I will renew my subscription.

The Village Voice also has some great pieces this week.

Tomorrow is another day where I have to be Professional Pauline. I'll let you know how it all turns out. Right now I'm just wondering where I put the slacks for my good suit.

The photos from the week-end will be ready on Monday. This coming week-end will bring baby and bridal showers a-plenty, which calls for [yet another] new dres.

My Friend is Selling Her Car

My friend Linda is selling her car. Here are the details:

***
Honda Civics get GREAT GREAT gas mileage. ;-)

VIN: 1HGEM21943L025135
Trim: EX 5 Speed Manual
Ext. Color: Nighthawk Black Pearl
Int. Color: Black
Year: 2003


The current mileage is $29,000 +

Notes:

It has had a oil change every 3,000 miles
Payoff = $9,792.44, but negotiable

Back Again

Breakfast and a few other meals have been consumed and caffeine has been ingested. I'd say that right now I'm functioning well.

Anyway, the week-end. I'm sure that people out in the Hamptons or even south of 14th Street had more raucous times than me. My three days away from The Job and NYC were mellow but fun, nonetheless. Saturday I headed out to Greenwich for a family party. I swam in the Long Island sound with my six little cousins and ate some amazing chicken salad sandwiches. Then I headed north to Fairfield to see Jen. We had no plan other than to eat burritos, drink wine and watch reality shows. First it was the one about the Playboy mansion, which is actually really good. Then we watched Kill Reality. I have many opinions about that show, the largest of which being that these people are batshit insane. Everyone's picking on Tonya for no reason, Jenna has a lousy part, Katie seems to be drunk 24 hours a day and Jonny Fairplay...I don't even know what to say about a man who will "upper deck" someone's toilet and then toss the remainders into the communal living room. After that we split our time between Taradise and a John Mayer show where he was playing with Buddy Guy. Jen wasn't into watching John Mayer play blues (I still don't understand how that is possible) and watching Tara Reid made us both feel a little bit dumber.

The next day I hit the Connecticut malls with La Mere and then headed back to NYC because I was invited to a BBQ. Earlier in the week I got an e-mail from a gal named Linda who I knew in middle school. She and I were pen pals for years after she moved from Norwalk to Long Island. For whatever reason she Googled me a few days ago, realized I was in NYC and invited me over. The funniest part was when Linda told me that she has a zillion letter from me, circa 1990, in which I go on and on about my love the New Kids on the Block. (The shame! The shame!) She told me there was one in which I went on for pages about a concert of theirs that I went to. All I could do was apologize.

Sunday I needed a good, strong cup of coffee, so I headed down to Cafe Gitane on Mott Street. I've been going there for years and it is absolutely one of my favorite places to spend my idle time and money. For $7 I can got a croissant, espresso and fresh squeezed juice. They even keep glossy, arty magazines around to peruse if you happen to be dining alone. The best part is the way everyone stares at you when you walk in, as if they're expecting you to be some sort of celebrity. I'm not a member of the glitterati, but it's nice being treated well in case they think you might be.

I intended to go straight home after my petit-dejeuner, but I remembered I still needed a dress for Julie's wedding in October. Back when I was in Westport I tried on an amazing dress at BCBG, but it was $400 and I couldn't justify paying that much dough for a dress I would, realistically, only wear once. I went into the BCBG in SoHo and found the dress, and it looked horrible on me. Even the sales girl asked me if that was the one I really wanted. I grabbed a handfull of others and eventually settled on a sheer brown halter number with sequins. It's hot.

I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping more. I stumbled upon a $24.99 shoe sale, and showed enough restraint to only leave with two pairs of pointy slingbacks. Then I went home, went for a run and headed to the Virgin Mega store where I picked up a few Herbie Hancock CDs. What is it with me and the Herbie Hancock lately? I've bought three in one week!

I also finally saw Sex, Lies and Videotape. I don't think James Spader could be any hotter.

Awake From the Long Nap

I'll have more to write in a few hours or so. I just woke up and I'm on the prowl for coffee and breakfast.

All in all, the week-end was great. It's good to get out of this town. Even better to come back to decent weather and a feeling that all seems to be on the up and up.

There will be photos from the week-end in a few days.

Stay tuned!

Quick Post Before I Leave

I found this great piece written by an AP staffer who's been down in New Orleans since before the hurricane hit. It's about walking through the streets of the city and talking to the displaced residents.

New Orleans in Throes of Katrina, Chaos

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Still Waiting...

Lakeisha Catching, 24, weeps for her missing children, Murphy Catchings, 8, and Juan Catchings, 6, as she waits with hundreds of flood victims for buses at the New Orleans Convention Center on Thursday, Sept. 1, 2005. About 15,000 to 20,000 had taken shelter at the convention center. (AP Photo/St. Petersburg Times, John Pendygraft)

How cool was it to see Harry Connick Jr. on the Today Show this morning, giving viewers a tour of the devastation in New Orleans? That was powerful stuff.

***
I made it to my dance class last night, but not without a few hurdles. Seems the Metrocard machines weren't taking credit cards last night. This is a problem if you're me, because I never carry cash. (I'd be a lousy person to mug.) Anyway, I had about 20 minues to get from 34th Street to 57th Street, plus I still needed to get some dance pants and sign in.

I got some cash from a pizza parlor ATM but since it was 34th Street and it was rush hour, there wasn't a cab to be found. However, there was a pedicab. Yeah, as in a guy on a bike with a seat on the back. I gave the guy my $20 and asked him to take me to Broadway Dance, which was no small feat. Sadly, I got there 15 minutes late and there was no point in taking the class I wanted. However, an hour later there was another, slightly harder tap class with a teacher I had never taken. I signed up for that one instead.

This gave me plenty of time to run around the corner and pick up some clothes to dance in. I don't like going to Capezio to begin with because everything is overpriced. Sure enough, $70 later I had a cool new outfit. $20 more for the class, $20 for the pedicab uptown...it all added up to one very expensive dance class. Where's the money tree?

However, it was worth it. Not only did I meet a new teacher, but there were only four of us in the class. At first it was a little faster than what I was used to, but I kept telling myself that if I was able to tap in those two shows with The Heights Players, I could handle an hour-long class that was only a notch more difficult than my usual ones. I also noticed it wasn't the usual razzle dazzle, musical theater type tap I was used to. It was rhythm tap, the kind of dance where the feet are used as the instrument. It was hard, but it was awesome. It's a great technique if you already have a good ear for music. I'll be back for more on Sunday.

It seems I'll be kinda busy today at The Job. I have no links to pass on, because I haven't been able to glean the newspapers today. But read the The New York Times. They've always got some good stuff in there. (But no comics. Sigh.)

Whoa. It's September

[Margaret Wood of Ocean Springs, Miss., sorts through her daughter's wedding presents Wednesday, Aug. 31, 2005, that were stored in Wood's home when Hurricane Katrina made landfall Monday on the Gulf Coast. Wood's daughter, LeAnn Smith, married in May. Smith and her drove to Ocean Springs on Wednesday to help the Woods salvage things from the home damaged by a surge from the Biloxi Bay. (AP Photo/The Mississippi Press, Carisa Anderson)]

I'm really amazed by some of the photos coming out of New Orleans and Missisippi. I see a lot of them everyday and I'm just astounded by how this whole situation is unfolding. Between the looting and the rising death toll, I'm glued.

Which also means that for a third day I'm a little work horse without much else to report to you. My evenings have been spent running errands and doing all the stuff I would normally be doing on company time. Last night I got my eyes checked. Turns out I'm practically blind. I actually have to wear glasses full time now, which bums me out because I've never been into that sexy librarian look. It's been done, redone and overdone.(I see myself more as a Russian debutante, if you must know. Ha.) I also went to the Virgin Mega Store to pick up some supplies. Tonight I'm going to a tap class, because I haven't gotten any real exercise since Sunday. (Walking the mile and half to and from work doesn't count.)

Here's a little non-required reading for your pre-Labor Day festivities:

I don't usually read The New York Press but they have two really great stories this week. One is about how one writer yearns for New York City circa 1988. (I've always been a big fan of 1997, myself.) Another story examines why cocaine is so popular and easy to get nowadays

If you're looking for some new tunes to get you through these last, flimsy days of summer, by all means pick up the new Brandi Carlile CD. A publicist friend sent me over a copy a few months ago and it has earned a permanent spot in my CD changer. (And it's only a three-disc changer.) I've said before that Ms. Carlile is like the offspring of Melissa Etheridge and Mama Cass. Her music's great and easy to sing along to, so don't miss out.

Oh, and Herbie Hancock's CD, Cataloupe Island is always a good time.