My Surreal Life

Last night, I found myself in this exact car (Lamborghini convertible with the top up) traversing the distance from a Clubhouse near Teterboro Airport, NJ to The Saks Fifth Avenue in Greenwich, CT for a Kids in Crisis fundraiser with Jaylin.

I took photos on my Razr and pix messaged them over to Tracey and my mom, both of who called me in surprise. Tracey's message was priceless: "What a coincidence--right now, I'm in a 1988 Chrysler Sundance, going to the Salvation Army. It must be Stark Polar Opposites Day!" Yes, she even put all that punctuation into her text: a welcome change from her text messages that come in all CAPS--I can't help but feel she's yelling the information at me, although I know she can't muster the strength.

As I sipped champagne and picked passing canapes, my eyes marveled at bejeweled Jimmy Choos and middle-aged men and women donating to charity. I couldn't determine if this was a preview into my future or a frightening glimpse into the Tuesday night life of hedge-funders with wives who on Wednesdays would be trolling the real Fifth Avenue with their mistresses.

Jaylin works at a high-end sports car rental company as the Director of Sales and Marketing. They had generously--wisely--donated one free day in the car we drove up to the store in. A sticker price of $1950/day is the going price, but in the name of tax write-offs and attracting a customer base who won't flinch at the price we found ourselves in Greenwich.

I've been the only colored person in a room before, but I've never been the only colored person who was also 20 years younger than the demographic at hand. It was a polite experience but a jarring one nonetheless. The other people of color I saw were working at the event--theoretically, even Jaylin was there on business.

I took a seat and dialed Jo to tell her what was before me--she was just leaving Emit after another long day in the magazine world--how our lives were already drawing us apart. But it's in our differences that we take comfort, learn, and grow: so no tears or fears, onward march.

Art Photographer -- Tommy!

Check out Tom's amazing photos from this Fall in New York and our European Expedition-- Jon's Gallery!

You will notice that none of these photos look like generic cityscapes your average tourist would capture. Each photo is composed of light and dark which caught his untrained but highly skilled eye as we ambled from place to place or he commuted home from his office job.

Inbound Airport Encounter

I noticed him right away. As soon as I found my seat on the 9-hour nonstop flight from Munich to JFK, I looked around to see if anyone around me was cute, young, and male. To my surprise, he was all three. Tall and slim, his dirty blone hair kept falling onto his pale blue eyes and he effortlessly brushed it away with the carelessness of someone who performs the gesture 1000 times a day.

He was in a window seat and I was in an aisle seat in the middle row. A crazy cursing Italian woman sat between us drinking copious amoutns of red wine and talking loudly. He kept looking over at me helplessly but other than a half-smile I couldn't muster much else. At first I thought he was German crossing the Atlantic for the very first time, but when the loco lady engaged him in conversation I overheard a soft-spoken American accent and some mention of being a chef. My heart skipped a beat and I listened harder focusing my anxious energy into fumbling with my journal.

I saw him tear up the barf bag into little note-size pieces but no notes came my way. Finally, the woman sitting in the row in front of the drunk, foul-mouthed Italian switched seats and the slutty foreign girl that replaced her began passing MY PLANE GUY notes. I was outraged, but what could I do. My window had closed or so I told myself, noticing I had 4 hours and 16 minutes left to witness their courtship--up close and personal. However, when I noticed that they were ripping up Airline magazines to furnish the paper to pass notes with I was inspired. I quickly tore a blank page out of my journal and handed it to the cute boy with a coy smile.

He returned a huge grin which quickly turned to bewilderment when he noticed the paper was blank. He quickly scribbled me a note--requesting that I write him a note. I obliged by sending him the one-page character sketch I had written up of him earlier in the journey while I patiently awaited him initiating contact. He was flattered and flattered me with that phrase, "you have a beautiful aura". We wrote and passed notes across the sleeping crazy woman for hours till neither of us could write anymore.

The foreign girl was a tease--apparently she had a boyfriend--yet she was insulted that he had begun communicating with me. She promptly avoided him for the rest of the journey and we flirted via scratches on paper patches. He's a traveling chef on a yacht who was in port till March--sadly in Chicago. He gave me his e-mail and begged me to keep in touch. I smiled and nodded--knowing I wouldn't.

It was a movie perfect plane ride. Of course, in the movies they would have lived happily ever after...but hey, it's real life and my real life to boot--so no such luck. But his name is Keith and I'm rather fond of his face.

Airport Encounter Outbound

When I arrived at JFK with Reba's black pack strapped to me over a large hooded black coat and maroon fleece--burning up from the unseasonally warm Fall weather--covered in a fine mist of rain on November 3, 2006 at 7:02pm for my 8:36pm flight to Munich I was alarmed to be notified that they had overbooked my flight.

This dread quickly transtioned to glee when Lufthansa rebooked me on a Singapore Airlines flight to Frankfurt where I could surprise Li Chen with my sweet, plane tired self and ride with him to Berlin where we would be meeting a solo travel weary Tommy to begin our Eurotrip. Oh, they also gave me 300 Euro for the "inconvenience".

Whilst I stood in the obscene line to check-in at the Singapore Air terminal, I began chirping into this tall, African man's ear my irritation surrounding the long wait. He had the most ezquisite cheekbones and a backpack that rivaled mine in widst with a significant win on length. His name is Hashim Mills-formerly of Rise and Shine--and he was launching his solo career with a gig in Frankfurt. He laughed at all my jokes and overall found me to be a delight. I had the good sense to get his autograph, just in case, he explodes I can sell that shit on e-bay and make a KILLING. Alright, I wouldn't do that...but it was very cool nonetheless. He input my e-mail into his trio and I'm hoping that means I'll be on the mailing list to future events with a free backstage pass to boot.

Will Explore Europe Later....

I'm back, babies.

I know I was terribly missed in my absence--not!--but rest assured I plan to make up for lost time by blogging overtime till I fill the void that was left behind.

I will exempt you all from the fate that is listening to me rail on tirelessly about my European expedition. Well, exempt is the wrong word--postpone the inevitable is more the truth--I'm awaiting a cord to be sent to me via priority mail so I can upload the pictures whence I will expound on them in blog format. You're not truly safe from my Euro Rant.

Hiatus

Gentle Reader(s),

I will be embarking on my Eastern European expedition in a few short hours--whilst I hope to check e-mail--I will not be updating this blog for the duration of my journey.

Please enjoy three weeks free of sweetness and viciousness as I journey to far lands in search of perspective and direction. Don't miss me too much or forget about me altogether as when I return there will be updates galore with photos to boot.

In other--unrelated--news, I met someone very special this week and assuming he doesn't fall in love with someone else (it is NYC) while I'm away there might be less single in my horizon than has been for the last two years. A little something to leave you with....

Be well!
Sweetly Vicious

Fire Chief...Baseball

Halloween Happiness

K and I dressed up as a baseball player (an adorable, short dress with red and white stripe and a pleated bottom with requisite red hat and inflatable bat!) and a fire chief (tight red dress so short I had to don tights to be civilized and a red plastic helmet that explained "Fire Chief!") to check out the Halloween Parade on 6th Ave. near Spring Street. Neither of us had been before and I sure was glad I packed a flask for the event. The weather was glorious, though the costumes weren't laboriously crafted.

I was bored after the first half hour so we headed over to Slate Plus for some drinking and dancing and general costumed merry making. Along the way people stopped us to take our picture--while I think that's highly flattering, there is something to be said for those photo collectors who know not their subjects.