October 29, 2007

The Darjeeling Limited




Yesterday, D'Souza and I stumbled into the theater across from Bloomingdale's on Third Avenue to view The Darjeeling Limited. A film we were drawn to given the inevitable Indian landscape sure to inform the cinematography and my misguided belief that it starred Brad Pitt.

To our delight, it was a wanton romp via train through the Indian countryside in a manner that can best be expressed as the union of The Aquatic Life of Steven Zissou and The Royal Tennenbaums--not just because these films share many cast members but also because they possess a certain cinematic quality that I have no better method of describing (seeing as how I failed at my dream of being a premier film critic given my sheer laziness in noting details or getting past the enjoyment of the film to critique its merit cinematically!). I digress.

The movie began with a short film set at the Hotel Chevalier in Paris starring Natalie Portman and Jason Schwartzmann and a song that went on to haunt the actual movie: Strangers by The Kinks~ I've downloaded it and listened to it a 100x already!

This film reminded me of my month-long journey via trains through Eastern Europe and a childhood in India spent avoiding any sort of train journey given the teeming masses and malodorous conditions. It made me miss the color and hospitality of a country I long to belong in--a country which will never truly be home again--
Indians are quick to welcome tourists as long as they don't overstay that welcome.

Indians aren't so kind with their own prodigal sons and daughters--NRI's (non-resident Indians)--we are not shown the respect or courtesty extended to visitors with our shared history and intimate knowledge of native culture and place--seems unfair, I know! That's India--an unfair Mother who you spurn but yearn to return to, you hope that she will be glad to see you; that she will welcome you home. All she will do is chide you for your delay and distrust the motives at play, yet you return be it out of obligation or fear or hope--if your upbringing was truly Indian, always return to your Mother be it triumphant and glorious or downtrodden and burned--you always go home.

October 24, 2007

Monday Night Madness

This posting has been delayed due to the incredulity and hangover generated by the amount of fun I had on Monday night...

Every Monday, I go to tea with the girls at Saint's Alp Teahouse. We talk about the past week, the week to come, and possible events we might want to attend as a group in the weeks to follow.

Jo informs us on current events, Karen updates us on the latest fashion trends, Lauren supports all discussions with nuggets of market research statistics she's unearthed (one hazard of her job that we love!), Halle presents usually irrelevant anecdotal "evidence/advice" and I make light of it while occassionally interjecting social observations when advice is solicited.

Don't get me wrong, this is all VERY fun. But we've been doing it for five years; while our dynamic has grown comfortable over time it leaves a bit to be desired in the novelty dept. Plus a bunch of late 20's professional female domestic partners sipping tea on a weekly basis can only be SO much fun.

This week after tea, I joined Tommy and our Canadian college pal, who had his girlfriend in tow, for beer pong at Wickey Willy's in NYU-land (on Bleecker St.). I had relatively low expectations for such an evening and planned on only staying the obligatory hour to see my visitors and put in some long overdue face time with Tommy. The night had other plans for me.

What I misguidedly assumed to be Halloween decorations were simply pirate-themed bar accoutrements. After my first $1 draft I began to see the charm of it all.

Tommy's love-of-the-moment, Tessie, made my night. She insisted we form a team, girl power induced camraderie, which I was forced to name. Inspired by the girl pirate's disproportionate rear in the poster above the bar, I suggested Pirate's Booty and we were off to the races.

Tessie, a 22-year-old, blonde, aspiring actress who lives with her parents in Staten Island, worked the room. She charmed every duo in sight into buying us beer. I could afford the hefty $1/beer price tag but it was amazing to see her in action and I could hardly refuse no-strings-attached-beer buying. In an effort to boost team spirit and through no actual suggestion of mine Tactylius (the band whose members were handing out flyers for their upcoming show bought me shots which I happily included Tess on)--apparently they want me to be one of their promoters given my energy and enthusiasm for their unheard album--so I proceeded to hand out their flyers with greater zest than a street vendor hawking perishables.

The particular team of most interest to Tess, I nicknamed "Hat Boys!"--one was wearing a baseball cap with no identifying logo and the other donned a knit, ski cap (he had an Orlando Bloom thing going on)--they kept attempting to get us to lower ourselves to their level of lewd humor and general jackassery. We refused. Finally, what I can assume to be only out of sheer frustation, Baby Bloom threw his orange ping pong ball at my beer as I sat sedately at the bar a few feet away from the tournament table. Of course, in his inebriated state he missed and hit my head instead. Much to Tessie's chagrin and my surprise, he bounded over to apologize but instead of uttering words that might redeem his doing he grabbed my face between his malodorous cigarrette fingers and proceeded to press his lips against mine.

I pulled away and pushed him hard hoping to knock him into the closest table but he was steadier on his feet than I gave him credit for being. He smiled smugly and proceeded to walk away. This kind of brazen behavior would have been excused sans explanation was I still a single woman, but that I am no longer. So I sought to seek revenge for his un-welcome advances--revenge which left unattained.

Another team who befriended us: "Buble Blows"--which sweet Tess assumed was a misspelling of "Bubble Blows" when in fact it pertained to the memebers' disdain for Canadian singer, Michael Buble--comprised of an adorable stylist and her best friend/brotherly figure. They proceeded to verbally berate the offender of my honor. Buble Boy offered to give Baby Bloom a swirly much to the shrieks of delight and horror of the bystanding girls! While I appreciated his act of chivalry, I assured him that no heads needed to be inserted into toilets on my behalf--at least not yet.

Incidentally, Buble Boy fancied me. When I departed from the main room to play pong in the practice room with my Canadian compatriots he quickly joined us and shyly made plays to attract my attention while generally gawking. I quickly explained the existence of D'Souza and released him to the few drunken girls that lined the bar. I suppose a wiser woman would have suspected given his outrage at Bloom Junior's behavior but I am not one to jump the gun, especialy in the boy likes THIS girl dept.

The 20something, New York equivalent of Cheers, Wickey Willy's gets my seal of approval and undoubted return customership. I had so much fun and met more new people than I have all year. With the exception of the unwanted overture which added event to the evening it was unendingly fun and wantonly freeing. For $1 I enjoyed more laughs and beer than ever before--college included.

I know Sweet reader, things like this should be expected at a college haunt, but I attended Nerd Central and was wholly unprepared for this average undertaking.

October 22, 2007

Squeaky Dog Toy

Inside the Apartment

Sitting on the Edge of the Step...



wasting time.........

Model Luckey!

Luckey Ghost!

Mommy, Mommy!!!!!

Happy Dog!

Sick Dog






Luckey contracted a skin infection that I kept hoping would heal itself. Finally, my mom and D'Souza dragged coaxed me into taking him to the vet who prescribed a wound cleanser and a steroid which cleared up the condition over the next few weeks.

BAD PET OWNER!

October 18, 2007

Happy Birthday to ME!

Happy Birthday!
I'm so glad you came to our department.
Your cheeriness, indignation, grace, aplomb, and ability to discuss politics, theory and current events have utterly endeared you to me.
Many happy returns of the day~

The above was in my inbox this morning when I got to work. I love colleague love. The department also sent me a dozen tangerine roses--they had NO IDEA those were my absolute favorites!

D'Souza's pink vase filled with the most exquisite long-stemmed white roses with bright pink tips just arrived. With a delightful card that read: "Here's wishing you the happiest of birthdays. P.S. I searched for hours but couldn't find any tangerine roses. Hope these will suffice."

They will MORE than suffice. They're absolutely gorgeous!

October 16, 2007

Heard in the Hallway

"What's your favorite word?"
"Hmm...I don't know."

"Well, think about it. What is it?"
"Ok."

"Your favorite word is, 'Ok?' Really?"
"What's wrong with it? It works in pretty much any situation! Wait. What's your favorite word?"

"No."
"No? As in no you don't want to tell me or no is your favorite word?"

"The latter."
"Why?"

"Why not?"
"Your favorite word is No, but you question OK as a favorite. What's up with that?"

"I don't know."
"Fine."

SuperCuts

After work yesterday, I made my way to SuperCuts on 32nd St. on 3rd Ave. where I proceeded to have the majority of my hair chopped off.

I'm not sure what brought on the sudden urge to purge dead cells, but I can't help but attribute it to the looming b'day.

After the motherly Hispanic woman blew my hair dry--which took a whole lot longer than cutting it--she charged me a whopping $32.48 (thanks to a $2 coupon you can get from SuperCuts online) for services rendered and I skipped out of there into the crisp night air.

It would have been cheaper to wait till Oct. 24--the next available date--for a trip to the Aveda Institute at 233 Spring St. where a trainee cut is just $18. They also take the time to straight iron individual strands for no extra charge--all in the name of learning/honing their hair craft!

October 10, 2007

Preview: The Year in Review (2007)

There is still 1/4 of 2007 left, but with my birthday approaching I'm feeling retrospective...

A preview of this year's "Year in Review!" follows:
Started working again.
Got a boyfriend.
Ended the life-with-roomies phase in life.
Finally, decided to go to business school.
Started paying off debt with a definitive plan of attack to ending the cycle of poverty. Good credit TAKE me back!

I guess we can term this year the Year of Responsibility.

In an effort to keep up this facade of maturity; I will NOT term it The Year that Fun Died!

Bitterness and jocular undertones aside, this year is truly the Year of D'Souza because the underlying reason for each life change was precipitated by his not-so-gentle nudging. I awakened into a world of consequences for the carefree life of Apathy I had been leading since college.

That's right, I'm admitting it. My so called life was nothing but a collage of passive reactions (in situations that called for action). I needed rescuing....and he has been my knight in shining armor. Rescuing me from debt, providing me with health insurance, and driving me to seek out opportunities for a higher form of self-sufficiency. Rebutting the survival argument with a real push for thriv-al!

Depite my disdain for Jane Austen, I find myself feeling a little Elizabeth Bennett in as Elizabethan shrew who has been tamed by Mr. Darcy.

Empowerment has overpowered me although I feel utterly enslaved to the reparations I must make before experiencing the fruit of true freedom. Thus I describe 2007--The year I came to my senses!

October 9, 2007

Organatrix

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack!

Jo--the journalist--termed me an organatrix a few years ago (a play on organized and dominatrix!)--clever girl! I've recently quit living up to the title, so a concerted effort will be made moving forward to resurrect my former self.

Mondays--Tea

Tuesdays--Seasonal/Cultural Event

Wednesdays--Reading at BN or another venue

Thursdays--Gallery opening (Karen will assist by providing her art expertise and perusing the latest issue of The Gallery Guide--bonus: free boooze!)

Fridays--Open for new and interesting activities!
This week Crash Mansion for live music!

Saturdays--Volunteering with New York Cares

Sundays--Museum Events
This week the Museum of the City of New York is presenting Dudes! I'm Stoked!--a take on adventure sports (bonus: HOT 97 will be there, yay for giveaways).

October 8, 2007

Vacation Plans

It's been ages since I went on vacation. AGES! In fact, it will be a YEAR in November. One WHOLE year!

In light of this sad reality, D'Souza and I are planning not one but TWO trips.

The first is to Toronto post-Christmas. I've never seen the Falls. Plus Tracey raved about Canada with such fervor after her trip this summer, I'm giving it a go. The CN Tower *his* and Casa Loma *mine* are the highlights of this upcoming sojourn.

Clearly a winter trip to the southern Arctic (as Canada is!) cannot compare to a summer jaunt but I'm also the woman who keeps visiting Prague in the dead of winter. I'll be wearing my Uggs and slapping on some thermal under garb so as not to freeze!

To go is better than not to go. You can put that on my tombstone.

The second trip is to Mardi Gras. I am well aware of the fact that New Orleans at the height of bacchanalia is not the romantic trip most envision with their cohabitating partner, but I've ALWAYS wanted to visit the French Quarter at American Carneval. My excitement is only contained by how far away that trip still is. Incidentally, we intend to celebrate our 1-year anniversary (Feb. 12) and Valentine's Day jointly--a bit ahead of schedule.

Three things inadmissible in a FIGHT

D'Souza has a tedency to use these three modes of defense against me when we fight (which is a healthy amount--approximately once every two weeks!):
1. "I know that's how you really feel because you said so on your blog..."
In a voice that channels the pain of a child who discovered Santa isn't real!

2. "I did it for your own good because I know more than you about a decision that impacts solely you..."
With the authority of a elementary school teacher dealing with a truculent student.

3. "You're being irrational. If you were to look at this situation logically..."
Like every man trying to argue with a woman who is torn between the urge to sob and beat her fists into his chest.

Now, I admit number 3 could easily be argued in his favor. After all, rationality has been the main bone of contention between sparring men and women since Eden itself. However, I want to point out that the fact remains that logic is moot when a woman feels scorned. Rationality is secondary to the strength she must muster to keep her emotions in check.

I will not extol the weakenesses inherent in 1 and 2! I think they speak for themselves in being a poor course of action when Sweet is in a Vicious mood.

October 3, 2007

Confessions of a Former CL Junkie

A friend of mine, who shares my serial CL nature, forwarded me the exchange you see in the two posts below.

I love CL. Especially CL New York. Deeper still CL Manhattan Personals. Anything goes and everyone goes with it.

These are classic examples of what people get away with asking in the wide world of the web. Even the oddest requests are heard and often met--albeit on the asker's terms, but that's New York!

I hope she gets hers and he gets his...Knowing what you want is fleeting.... soon you won't want it anymore--that usually coincides with when you get what you thought it wast that you wanted.

The Question

Okay, I'm tired of beating around the bush.

I'm a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I'm articulate and classy. I'm not from New York. I'm looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don't think I'm overreaching at all.

Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200 - 250K. But that's where I seem to hit a roadblock. $250,000 won't getme to Central Park West. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she's not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level?

Here are my questions specifically: Where do you single rich men hang out?

Give me specifics- bars,restaurants, gyms-What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won't hurt my feelings-Is there an age range I should be targeting (I'm 25)?

Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper eastside so plain? I've seen really 'plain jane' boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I've seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What's the story there?

Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investmentbanker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out?

How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY!

Please hold your insults - I'm putting myself out there in an honest way.

Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I'm being up front about it. I wouldn't be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn't able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth.

The Answer

Dear Pers-:
I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament.

Firstly, I'm not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here's how I see it. Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple acrappy business deal. Here's why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here's the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity...in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won't be getting any more beautiful! So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset.

Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you're 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you! So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold...hence the rub...marriage. It doesn't make good business sense to "buy you" (which is what you're asking) so I'd rather lease.
In case you think I'm being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It's as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage.

Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So,I wonder why a girl as "articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful" as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard tobelieve that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn't found you, if not only for a tryout.

By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn't need to have this difficult conversation.With all that said, I must say you're going about it the right way. Classic "pump and dump." I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

Rob Campbell
J.P.Morgan
Diversified Industrials Investment Banking
277 Park Avenue 16/F
New York, NY 10172

Happy Birthday, D'Souza!

Happy Birthday, Jaan!

I will proceed to enumerate 27 things I love most about C--
1. He is a good man.
2. He will always stop for Starbucks and Falooda--though he consumes neither.
3. He has the most unbelievable shoulders.
4. He frequently picks me up and twirls me in public.
5. He's not afraid to express his feelings in private.
6. He's a man's man. Go Sports!
7. He eats meat--no meal is complete without MEAT!
8. He's not chatty, but he won't avoid a heated conversation.
9. When I stand, barefoot, his chin rests perfectly on my head.
10. He is humble.
11. He is intelligent.
12. He would give a stranger the shirt off his back.
13. He does not impose his worldview on others--aka ME.
14. He is open to change.
15. He's spontaneous.
16. He drives like a racecar driver.
17. He is fiscally savvy. His Excel sheets never cease to amaze me!
18. His voice is SUPER sexy.
19. His smile lights up my world.
20. He is playful.
21. He doesn't care for babies but he loves puppies.
22. He always DOES what needs to be DONE!
23. He pushes me to be a better person--despite my whining.
24. He is ambitious, focused, and driven.
25. He's not afraid to make tough decisions.
26. He is steadfast. His persistence isn't annoying.
27. He is unselfish. He puts family first!

October 2, 2007

Seen on the Subway

I saw two separate acts of kindness on the subway recently:


1. A middle-aged Asian man gently reached over to the diminutive Indian girl beside him and adjusted the strap of her tank top which had slid off her shoulder. It wasn't sexual or creepy in any way. It was a fatherly gesture--something I have never seen between strangers. She wasn't the least bit offended. She merely smiled and nodded, then went back to listening to her music.

2. A blind, female, African-American panhandler was soliciting subway patrons for food, cash, or clothing. The red-headed man beside me prior to disembarking at 77th street took off his hoodie and handed it to her. He gently clasped her arm and pressed the shirt off his back into her hand. Without saying another word he exited with his companions into the balmy evening.

For all the instances of subway rage and impolite subway behavior, these two incidents have renewed my faith in my fellow New York dwellers. It was touching to see humanity that close up!

Sunrise to Sunset

I did not grumble when D'Souza roused me at 6am on Sunday for our voyage North.

We departed promptly at 6:17am from Lakeside Trail...the sun rose on the way. I think that might be the first sunrise I've seen in the '00s.

Later that day, we departed from University Ave. after a HORRIBLE Indian buffet at Diamonds--the only Indian joint in downtown Ithaca--(outrageous consideration the number of Indians roaming around the Cornell campus that they don't have decent desi food!). We saw the sunset as we crossed the GW Bridge at 6:42pm.

I don't think I've ever seen the sunrise and set on the same day--especially not whilst riding beside someone special through a scenic slice of the American landscape.

You Gotta have Faith Faith Faith

Though I love the George Michael song...this entry is in no way related to that late '80s classic.

On the ride back from Ithaca on Sunday, D'Souza turned down the radio to reveal to me a crisis of faith. He's a devout Catholic. A devotion I deeply respect. So when he confessed to me that he didn't understand how some people could be given such a sad lot in life when predestination was the premise of Catholicism, I was relieved and alarmed. Relieved that he questioned authority and alarmed that he questioned his faith. He clarified a common misconception about free will which I struggled with.

He explained that predestination does not predicate decision-making. Said another way, just because God know what we will do in the future he has no influence our decision. Free will dictates that we are the sole bearers of that responsibility.

If given the choice between sleeping in and mass I don't see much of a choice--I sleep in. D'Souza, on the other hand, pulled in front of a church to say a quiet prayer--on our way back from Ithaca--since no mass times were possible during our journey.