Powerful People...

So, last night I attended an alumni event for my good ol' alma mater, hosted by a certain television corporation, since one of the university's star alums is its CEO. I have to say, I'm not a big fan of regular television (other than it employs a lot of writers, actors, and lots of other creative types), and this particular station is pretty low on my "watched" list. Other than one of its NYC-based late-night programs (which happily rips on said CEO), I rarely hit any of the the corporation's stations. But the CEO gave a great speech and kind of sold me on his network. In addition to his anecdotes about of networking, he talked about the importance of content (admittedly, these channels seem to have the least amount of "reality" programming out there, which I commend).

So, after the remarks were finished and alcohol was poured, a new friend and I decided we'd go over and introduce ourselves. After all, he'd just basically said networking is key and that we should be open-minded. And I wanted to commend him on his content remarks. I introduced himself, and as soon as I said "freelance performing arts writer/editor" he glazed over. OK, so maybe I shouldn't have used the word "freelance," or "performing arts" (I think that frankly does more damage than "freelance"). But still, I was there, doing what he talked about doing, and he wasn't interested. And it wasn't just me, I noticed him doing the same thing with the other people introducing themselves. I tried to re-engage him by saying, "I wanted to thank you for caring about content," but again, no dice. He wasn't there... His eyes, his brain, had moved on. He's the worst kind of schmoozer--initial eye contact, and then they're off searching around for someone else...



Paris under pressure

I just returned from a lengthier visit to Paris (thanks to some very generous friends), and oh, what a time! This experience was more of an eye-opener than a vacation, as I timed my visit perfectly to the massive rail transport strike, civil servant strike, student protests, and a few riots in the outskirts of the city. A cloud seems to hang over one of the world's most beautiful cities--one that seems to appear, historically, quite often.

Is it possible for a nation to be bipolar? I'm not as up on French history as British, but France's political pendulum seems to swing pretty wildly for a country that coined the term "joie de vivre." It's a very serious country, and apparently now is a very serious time. It's interesting to realize that the French people's fiery feelings tend to gut the country from time to time, so I hope that the nation is past its "off with their heads!" period ("Off with their heads! No, off with THEIR heads! No, off with THEIR heads!" back and forth and so on), because it feels a bit like it's heading in that direction once again. The French are known for being passionate people, and I hope that, rather than being politically passionate against each other, they can get back to amour...

It's unfortunate that the shadow over the city darkened my vacation as well, but I was able to escape my own life for a while, which was wonderful. Paris is still a wonderful city with many wonderful people and places, and I'm sure she'll survive whatever's headed her way--she always has, albeit not always in such innocent ways.

Coney Island


Godzilla vs. Pooh

The ultimate battle between good and evil has finally happened... Sadly, it looks like Godzilla wins again--Pooh's Hunny Blaster just didn't cut it.


I love the smell of good food, but...

...why did a schawarma vendor have to park his cart behind my building? Now, by mid-mornings on weekdays, the aroma of spiced grilled meat wafts through my window.

It smells good.

It is cruel.


Farewell, Old Friend...

Friday morning, at approximately 8:15am, Maxim, my beloved morning helper, passed away. A gift from dear friends, he lived with me for ten wonderful years, faithfully delivering the nectar of a new day: my cappuccino. Through thick and thin, good days and bad, this old friend greeted me lovingly, reminding me that there are beautiful things in this crazy, often ugly world.

I'll never forget Maxim's last words: "Bzzzt bzzzz zzzz zz bzzzzt," while its little red light flickered, then went out.

Thank you, Maxim. You were a good friend. I'll miss you.



Photos from my family trip on the deep blue sea!


When life gets you down...

Get a little Strindberg...and Helium


Childhood Games

Wandering around the galleries today, the best show of the day was in the window of a gallery on 10th Avenue. As I strolled by three children were standing in a window, waving at all of the passersby. I happily waved back, and they started jumping up and down and cheering. Ahh...that great old childhood game of getting complete strangers to somehow acknowledge you!

I remember fighting for the seats in the back of the school bus on field trip day. Could we get truckers to honk at us? I'm sure we were terribly annoying (I even have faint memories of signs, which were undoubtedly horrible). But I remember the joy that we received from something so simple.

What an amazing feeling.
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