Please appreciate the "Gone in 60 Seconds" reference, people.
July 29, 2008
Eleanor
I have wantted to live at 45 Wall in FiDi for many years--yet she eludes me. 
Please appreciate the "Gone in 60 Seconds" reference, people.
Please appreciate the "Gone in 60 Seconds" reference, people.
July 27, 2008
July 25, 2008
Lion Love
This display of lion love made me wonder if my pups would recognize me a year after I released them into the wild. I'd drop 'em in Malta, of course, they wouldn't last an hour in Africa.
I'm totally in love with this video right now.
Do you think Ace and John are gay? Does Harrods sell lion cubs?
I know it was 1969 but a giant dept. store in London sellling a lion cub to a gay couple...really? Not to mention a lion cub living in London...double really?
July 24, 2008
Hampton Honey
The moniker bestowed on me by Zayan on the card attached to the silver wine bag that held my fave vodka when he came out to the house on June 27 has stuck in my head...
Shouldn't it be Hamptons Honey?
I'm not suggesting it's an apt title but I like it. A lot.
Don't worry this isn't a relapse in the making--trust me--
As we sat at Birdie's last week scarfing down fried chicken and eviscerating one another's love lives--me more so than him--I felt a twinge of sorrow at the loss of any romantic inclination towards Z. Now, I realize this is a good thing but for so long I had believed that he was the one for me and perhaps I would know the flame that burned eternal in my dealings with him. This is just not so. Despite the positive mental health factor, it's a romantic rumination that's been ruined.
Combine this reality with my tepid temperament towards D'Souza, I'm burning through exes. I, as someone who has always prided herself on maintaining good post-relationship dealings, suddenly find myself in the shoes of the masses--longing to cut off all ties to these people and generally pretend they never happened to me. Alright, so that's a bit extreme but it's not wholly inaccurate. My version of letting go has been to hold a long thick string tied to the ex's wrist and stand behind a pressurized NYC wall. I'm contemplating dropping the string and leaving the apartment.
Wow. Is that personal growth? Is that maturity? Or is it just "that I've been dating for 10 years and my hair hurts"?
Shouldn't it be Hamptons Honey?
I'm not suggesting it's an apt title but I like it. A lot.
Don't worry this isn't a relapse in the making--trust me--
As we sat at Birdie's last week scarfing down fried chicken and eviscerating one another's love lives--me more so than him--I felt a twinge of sorrow at the loss of any romantic inclination towards Z. Now, I realize this is a good thing but for so long I had believed that he was the one for me and perhaps I would know the flame that burned eternal in my dealings with him. This is just not so. Despite the positive mental health factor, it's a romantic rumination that's been ruined.
Combine this reality with my tepid temperament towards D'Souza, I'm burning through exes. I, as someone who has always prided herself on maintaining good post-relationship dealings, suddenly find myself in the shoes of the masses--longing to cut off all ties to these people and generally pretend they never happened to me. Alright, so that's a bit extreme but it's not wholly inaccurate. My version of letting go has been to hold a long thick string tied to the ex's wrist and stand behind a pressurized NYC wall. I'm contemplating dropping the string and leaving the apartment.
Wow. Is that personal growth? Is that maturity? Or is it just "that I've been dating for 10 years and my hair hurts"?
July 21, 2008
D'Souza Delivers
D'Souza came out this weekend.
11:45am-5:45pm Saturday
Spent the day in the poool drinking beer and making runs to King Kullen for food.
The dogs got pushed in--damn D'souza--so he put them on some floats so they could dry off without getting disgusting from jumping around the sand.
He drove off in a huff after injuring his toe.
10:00am-9:34pm Sunday
I collected him from the Hampton Bays train station bright and early.
We drove to Babylon where his car had broken down so he could get AAA to tow it.
Spent an hour or so at the ocean beach drinking beer out of a cooler and watching white people tan.
Drove out to DuckWalk's winery in Water Mill for a tasting before they closed at 5:30pm then booked it home to grill some delicious chorizos for dinner.
Popped open some champagne and dove in the pool before warming up in the hottub--so we had to jump back in the pool to cool down.
Then I deposited him at the train station so he could head home to Jersey City.
11:45am-5:45pm Saturday
Spent the day in the poool drinking beer and making runs to King Kullen for food.
The dogs got pushed in--damn D'souza--so he put them on some floats so they could dry off without getting disgusting from jumping around the sand.
He drove off in a huff after injuring his toe.
10:00am-9:34pm Sunday
I collected him from the Hampton Bays train station bright and early.
We drove to Babylon where his car had broken down so he could get AAA to tow it.
Spent an hour or so at the ocean beach drinking beer out of a cooler and watching white people tan.
Drove out to DuckWalk's winery in Water Mill for a tasting before they closed at 5:30pm then booked it home to grill some delicious chorizos for dinner.
Popped open some champagne and dove in the pool before warming up in the hottub--so we had to jump back in the pool to cool down.
Then I deposited him at the train station so he could head home to Jersey City.
Beach Bum (15 summers strong)
At the ocean beach yesterday, I spied this old school wooden Jeep--made Judy look young--sporting beach permits from 1994 to 2008...there is an owner who LOVES this particular beach in East Quogue.
July 14, 2008
Vulnerability--I suck at it--
This is my fault. I should never have pushed the Hamptons on you.
I foolishly spent all year waiting for this beautiful dream of spending weekends in Hampton Bays with you. Ever since we picked that house I've been waiting for the summer to start so we could really enjoy ourselves again.
When I realized I would only have one chance to make all my anticipation a reality I started daydreaming about spending a lazy afternoon on the beach drinking out of our cooler--jumping in the ocean then drying off long enough to build a sandcastle WITH YOU....taking a trip to the vineyard and sampling an assortment of Long Island wine WITH YOU....dancing under the stars at The Drift (a deck on the ocean) pulsing with mainstream music WITH YOU...swimming in the pool as the sun rises after stewing in the hottub with everyone who was in the house this weekend---young, relaxed, hopeful, fun--WITH YOU.
I just thought this would be my one chance to be on vacation WITH YOU. My one last good memory so I could always look back on our relationship as a happy time...a time that ended as wonderfully as it had begun.
I don't deserve that. Thank you for making sure I don't get that...thank you for not being sorry. Thank you for not making it up to me. Thank you for ensuring that I get just how much we are over because I'm don't deserve to have one lousy weekend with you at the beach...carefree, happy....feeling like that girl I used to be when we met. I'm not her. She's just a memory. She's the only memory I have any right to have. That's what I deserve...thank you for making sure I get what I deserve.
I foolishly spent all year waiting for this beautiful dream of spending weekends in Hampton Bays with you. Ever since we picked that house I've been waiting for the summer to start so we could really enjoy ourselves again.
When I realized I would only have one chance to make all my anticipation a reality I started daydreaming about spending a lazy afternoon on the beach drinking out of our cooler--jumping in the ocean then drying off long enough to build a sandcastle WITH YOU....taking a trip to the vineyard and sampling an assortment of Long Island wine WITH YOU....dancing under the stars at The Drift (a deck on the ocean) pulsing with mainstream music WITH YOU...swimming in the pool as the sun rises after stewing in the hottub with everyone who was in the house this weekend---young, relaxed, hopeful, fun--WITH YOU.
I just thought this would be my one chance to be on vacation WITH YOU. My one last good memory so I could always look back on our relationship as a happy time...a time that ended as wonderfully as it had begun.
I don't deserve that. Thank you for making sure I don't get that...thank you for not being sorry. Thank you for not making it up to me. Thank you for ensuring that I get just how much we are over because I'm don't deserve to have one lousy weekend with you at the beach...carefree, happy....feeling like that girl I used to be when we met. I'm not her. She's just a memory. She's the only memory I have any right to have. That's what I deserve...thank you for making sure I get what I deserve.
July 13, 2008
Dissing D'Souza
Last night, D'Souza dissapointed me more than any man has ever disappointed me.
The primary reason for this is that I let him. I gave him that power over me. A regret that I will carry with me. A lesson I would have learned earlier in life had I been trusting enough to showcase my vulnerability to a man--the way women are willing and able, nay expected to.
The secondary reason is that he had promised to come out to the Hamptons this weekend and he did not come. A promise he made through NO prompting of mine roughly 3weeks ago with the added assurance that he would take off on Friday so we could drive up on Thursday and truly enjoy a relaxing yet party heavy weekend of debauchery and general beach fun.
As things develop this was a gradual letdown which in so many ways isn't any better than a sudden drop. Thursday night he sang me a song of the quarter ending which signals long nights of work for him. I hadn't actually expected him to take Friday off but he then assured me that he would find a way to spend 24 consecutive hours in the Hamptons with me this weekend. So when he called me at 9:34pm last night to tell me he wasn't coming out this weekend I was crushed.
I was crushed the way a little girl whose parents share joint custody is crushed when her father doesn't show up...it doesn't really matter that he's often not shown up...this time she had believed it would be different. This time she put on a new dress and braided her hair with pink ribbons and scrubbed her face extra hard and sat on her mother's stoop holding the bear her father had given her last Christmas waiting...hoping...believing....needing him to show up. So, when he didn't come she cried. She cried with a force of a punctured artery squirting jets of fresh fluid with pressure unrelenting. She cried till her whole face was red. She cried till her sobs were soundless. She cried for herself and all the little girls who sat on stoops waiting...waiting for dads that never came. Believing in things they were too young to stop believing in....crying with a bitterness they should have been too inexperienced to convey accurately.
So getting back to the point--D'Souza didn't show up. Not only did he not show up he dared to issue the following brilliant statements to a distraught ME:
"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm tired and I need to get some sleep."
Again...this was at 9:34pm on Saturday night.
"We broke up. Would you be this upset if any other friend of yours cancelled on you at the last minute?"
Um. Yes. I would be. It's discourteous, selfish, inconsiderate, and unkind. I would not just be upset I would sling much more serious epithets in their direction and proceed to not speak to them for weeks on end.
"I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll come out next weekend. I've already taken Friday off."
His solution is to make me ANOTHER promise to come out when it is convenient for him (without consulting me if that would work for me! After all how much does that matter--it's ALL about HIM) despite having told me that THIS weekend was convenient for him. Plus I know for a fact that he'll have to drive his sister back up to Ithaca next weekend to renew her lease. Unlike him I listen. I pay attention. I remember dates and general timelines.
"I'm here on an H1B visa. I don't have the luxury of quitting my job and sitting on my ass like some people."
Well, you had the opportunity to file for a green card. So I'm sorry this excuse just doesn't hold water. Not to mention, do you really think couching an insult directed at me given the circumstances is a good idea?
The primary reason for this is that I let him. I gave him that power over me. A regret that I will carry with me. A lesson I would have learned earlier in life had I been trusting enough to showcase my vulnerability to a man--the way women are willing and able, nay expected to.
The secondary reason is that he had promised to come out to the Hamptons this weekend and he did not come. A promise he made through NO prompting of mine roughly 3weeks ago with the added assurance that he would take off on Friday so we could drive up on Thursday and truly enjoy a relaxing yet party heavy weekend of debauchery and general beach fun.
As things develop this was a gradual letdown which in so many ways isn't any better than a sudden drop. Thursday night he sang me a song of the quarter ending which signals long nights of work for him. I hadn't actually expected him to take Friday off but he then assured me that he would find a way to spend 24 consecutive hours in the Hamptons with me this weekend. So when he called me at 9:34pm last night to tell me he wasn't coming out this weekend I was crushed.
I was crushed the way a little girl whose parents share joint custody is crushed when her father doesn't show up...it doesn't really matter that he's often not shown up...this time she had believed it would be different. This time she put on a new dress and braided her hair with pink ribbons and scrubbed her face extra hard and sat on her mother's stoop holding the bear her father had given her last Christmas waiting...hoping...believing....needing him to show up. So, when he didn't come she cried. She cried with a force of a punctured artery squirting jets of fresh fluid with pressure unrelenting. She cried till her whole face was red. She cried till her sobs were soundless. She cried for herself and all the little girls who sat on stoops waiting...waiting for dads that never came. Believing in things they were too young to stop believing in....crying with a bitterness they should have been too inexperienced to convey accurately.
So getting back to the point--D'Souza didn't show up. Not only did he not show up he dared to issue the following brilliant statements to a distraught ME:
"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm tired and I need to get some sleep."
Again...this was at 9:34pm on Saturday night.
"We broke up. Would you be this upset if any other friend of yours cancelled on you at the last minute?"
Um. Yes. I would be. It's discourteous, selfish, inconsiderate, and unkind. I would not just be upset I would sling much more serious epithets in their direction and proceed to not speak to them for weeks on end.
"I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll come out next weekend. I've already taken Friday off."
His solution is to make me ANOTHER promise to come out when it is convenient for him (without consulting me if that would work for me! After all how much does that matter--it's ALL about HIM) despite having told me that THIS weekend was convenient for him. Plus I know for a fact that he'll have to drive his sister back up to Ithaca next weekend to renew her lease. Unlike him I listen. I pay attention. I remember dates and general timelines.
"I'm here on an H1B visa. I don't have the luxury of quitting my job and sitting on my ass like some people."
Well, you had the opportunity to file for a green card. So I'm sorry this excuse just doesn't hold water. Not to mention, do you really think couching an insult directed at me given the circumstances is a good idea?
July 11, 2008
Arty Party Recap
Stella, Jani and I tromped about 25th Street between 10th and 11th Avenues today from 5pm-7pm viewing a variety of art openings. These receptions feature free wine, beer, and occassionally vodka...today I sampled all three at the seven galleries I perused.
Jani favored Science as Muse at the SVA student group show.
Stella voted for Teri Garland's Southern Discomforts complete with Klansman and families bearing the emblematic "White Power" t-shirts.
I was ambivalent till we climbed into a padded freight elevator at 555 W. 25th Street in what appeared to be an upscale apartment building--clearly a multi-use property--custom fitted with elevator doors that close like an alligator's jaws. As if the ride wasn't awesome enough a series of dark/disturbing Asian child inspired imagery donned the white walls. The post below highlights my favorites--most frightening visages.
Above is a Beetle Juice reminiscent room with a large David Copperfield style crystal filled with water exerting centrifugal force in the middle amplifying the dizzying effect of the small space. Ack!
July 6, 2008
Vegas on a Grassy Knoll
Here is a photograph of Vegas taken by a professional pet photographer--Sarah Sleiding--on a grassy knoll just West of 5th Ave. in Central Park on 96th St. 
July 5, 2008
Disposable Grill
This weekend I have a few kosher folks in the house who refused to cook on my gentile grill...here is their "disposable" grill.
July 4, 2008
My First Sand Castle
Last weekend Jo photographed Zayan assisting me to build my first sand castle--a little late in life--but better late than never. That's just too many cliches even for me...
July 3, 2008
Gay Burst
Riding the LIRR from Jamaica to Hampton Bays this morning/afternoon I witnessed my first official gay burst!
There was a pair of screaming children sitting directly behind me--kicking my seat and generally causing a ruckus. Their mother did not just skip chastizing them she in fact encouraged their unruly behavior by applauding their verbal abilities. Their colored nanny who was sitting across the aisle from mother and children was moritified but clearly enjoying her "ride off".
In front of me sat a charming gay man--proudly carrying a rainbow bag and wearing some very gay shades--who hit his breaking point at Patchogue and WENT off at the mom. He started by merely lifting himself from his seat and walking over to inform the mother that she needed to keep her kids quiet. To which the definition of WASP mother responded "No entiendo ingles, mi amor!" This inflamed the flamer as we had ALL heard her cooing to her offspring in the American English we speak so freely.
He hotly retorted, "Either you can shut them up or I will."
To which she stood up outraged and spit out, "Excuse, what did you just say?"
He smirked, "Wait. I thought you didn't speak English!"
She merely stared at him fish-mouthed as he continued to dig into her.
"I'm not the only one that's had this ride ruined by those screaming children. If you can't control your kids maybe you should consider driving out next time or perhaps not sugaring them up before exposing the rest of us to them."
She kept yelling at him...till he finally got off the train and threw one last insult, "I'm glad I said something even if I was almost at my stop. You're a bitch!"
I wanted to shout a mighty, "Amen!" but I didn't. COWARD, I know!
The rest of the passengers turned on him as soon he left throwing the mother conciliatory glances and open apologies like:
"What's his problem!"
"Children will be children"
"He was getting off, why did he make such a big deal."
OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There was a pair of screaming children sitting directly behind me--kicking my seat and generally causing a ruckus. Their mother did not just skip chastizing them she in fact encouraged their unruly behavior by applauding their verbal abilities. Their colored nanny who was sitting across the aisle from mother and children was moritified but clearly enjoying her "ride off".
In front of me sat a charming gay man--proudly carrying a rainbow bag and wearing some very gay shades--who hit his breaking point at Patchogue and WENT off at the mom. He started by merely lifting himself from his seat and walking over to inform the mother that she needed to keep her kids quiet. To which the definition of WASP mother responded "No entiendo ingles, mi amor!" This inflamed the flamer as we had ALL heard her cooing to her offspring in the American English we speak so freely.
He hotly retorted, "Either you can shut them up or I will."
To which she stood up outraged and spit out, "Excuse, what did you just say?"
He smirked, "Wait. I thought you didn't speak English!"
She merely stared at him fish-mouthed as he continued to dig into her.
"I'm not the only one that's had this ride ruined by those screaming children. If you can't control your kids maybe you should consider driving out next time or perhaps not sugaring them up before exposing the rest of us to them."
She kept yelling at him...till he finally got off the train and threw one last insult, "I'm glad I said something even if I was almost at my stop. You're a bitch!"
I wanted to shout a mighty, "Amen!" but I didn't. COWARD, I know!
The rest of the passengers turned on him as soon he left throwing the mother conciliatory glances and open apologies like:
"What's his problem!"
"Children will be children"
"He was getting off, why did he make such a big deal."
OMFG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Parkside Apple
Today, I made my way to the Apple store across from the southeast corner of Central Park to give my iPod a much needed perk.
Ever since I got my Juke last Thanksgiving I haven't used my Nano at all. Last week when I tried plugging in a variety of headphones into the little MP3 player no sounds were to be heard. Boo.
Upon Zayan's recommendation, I took the adorable music maker to the mothership in the hopes of reviving its ability to make noise. The kind gentleman whose apple branded nametag proclaimed him "Peter" simply pulled out some white headphones from his pants pocket, plugged them into my system, and voila! MUSIC! Peter let me keep the 'phones for free. Imagine!
Beth Hart's LA Song came pouring out...
That was the song I listened to on repeat during my exile semester from college (Fall 1999) when I got the boot (ac pro) from good old Johnny Hop. Sad times. Times spent in my 1992 grey Mazda Protege driving on Rt. 10 at absurd hours--blasting Z100 and crying intermittently. Not a high point. But a point nonetheless...a point from which I redeemed myself.
I once again feel like I'm at such a point in my life. The collapse of a live-in situation, the absence of a real job, and live in a basement studio in East Harlem...nowhere to go but up. So it's time to pull up those bootstraps and get to climbing out of the deep hole I've dug my heels into.
That's how I'm making '08 Great...by preparing to Get Mine in '09!
Ever since I got my Juke last Thanksgiving I haven't used my Nano at all. Last week when I tried plugging in a variety of headphones into the little MP3 player no sounds were to be heard. Boo.
Upon Zayan's recommendation, I took the adorable music maker to the mothership in the hopes of reviving its ability to make noise. The kind gentleman whose apple branded nametag proclaimed him "Peter" simply pulled out some white headphones from his pants pocket, plugged them into my system, and voila! MUSIC! Peter let me keep the 'phones for free. Imagine!
Beth Hart's LA Song came pouring out...
That was the song I listened to on repeat during my exile semester from college (Fall 1999) when I got the boot (ac pro) from good old Johnny Hop. Sad times. Times spent in my 1992 grey Mazda Protege driving on Rt. 10 at absurd hours--blasting Z100 and crying intermittently. Not a high point. But a point nonetheless...a point from which I redeemed myself.
I once again feel like I'm at such a point in my life. The collapse of a live-in situation, the absence of a real job, and live in a basement studio in East Harlem...nowhere to go but up. So it's time to pull up those bootstraps and get to climbing out of the deep hole I've dug my heels into.
That's how I'm making '08 Great...by preparing to Get Mine in '09!
Inertia
That's probably a good way of describing my life these past six years...
I've long held that 2008 would be a significant year in my life.
Of course, my reasoning had been that I'd have met the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life, achieved a modicum of professional success, and purchased my own sliver of NYC real estate. None of those things have come to pass as yet but if I can escape the big sleep that would be the achievement of this lifetime.
I've long held that 2008 would be a significant year in my life.
Of course, my reasoning had been that I'd have met the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life, achieved a modicum of professional success, and purchased my own sliver of NYC real estate. None of those things have come to pass as yet but if I can escape the big sleep that would be the achievement of this lifetime.
July 1, 2008
2008: Third Quarter Resolutions
1. Stop sleeping with the ex.
2. Study and ace the GRE.
3. Select a new job.
4. Stay the course on the Hamptons House.
5. Stick to walking the dogs daily.
6. Sip in lieu of chugging
7. Swim as often as possible while the summer and Hamptons oblige.
8. Steer clear of dating this season.
9. Spend more time with my family.
10. Seek out new experiences: people, events, performances, etc.
2. Study and ace the GRE.
3. Select a new job.
4. Stay the course on the Hamptons House.
5. Stick to walking the dogs daily.
6. Sip in lieu of chugging
7. Swim as often as possible while the summer and Hamptons oblige.
8. Steer clear of dating this season.
9. Spend more time with my family.
10. Seek out new experiences: people, events, performances, etc.
Seen on the Street
Walking across 99th Street between Lexington and Park Avenune about 2 hours ago, the dogs and I spotted this tiny sparrow sitting on the street. She (ok, it might be a he--I have no idea) did not budge when Vegas sidled up to her and sniffed at her diminutive head. Luckey showed no interest in her but took a generous lap into her tiny water cup. She let me get pretty close to snap this shot on my camera phone.
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