Some evil pictures from a visit to the Remote Lounge back in August. Yikes.
Posts from September 2003
After reading about this fantastic event, I sent an email to the organizer. He responded, so hopefully, I'll be going to the next one! Yum!
It is fascinating to me how our minds and bodies interact with each other. Similarly, I find it interesting how what is going on emotionally manifests itself physically. This weekend started off brilliantly. I was going to Maine for Rosh Hashanah. I have been somewhat stressed out at work lately (ah, the Lost Post), and have been utterly preoccupied. So -- when I made my reservation for a car service to take me to the airport at the crack of dawn on Friday, I automatically made the reservation for Newark.
Needless to say, when I arrived at Newark airport and stuck my credit card in the machine, it did not recognize my reservation. This is because my flight was out of LaGuardia. Fuck. I attempted to be very Zen about the whole thing. "No problem," I thought, "I have plenty of time, and I'm in no rush." I took a cab back into the city, back out to LaGuardia. Missed my flight by 5 minutes. "Zen," I remind myself. "You MORON!" screams my internal critic. After a minor breakdown and the $80 cab ride, I reschedule my flight and attempt to sleep in the rows of chairs that have armrests on every seat so that you can't lie down on them.
Zen. So this is how stress manifests itself.
The weekend got better from there, thankfully. I finally made it to Portland (where there is only one airport, BTW), and drove up to Bates to see my brother. We cooked a HUGE Cuban meal for 20 of his closest friends, and then I joined everyone to go see his band, Mango Quickly, play.
Returning back to Portland the next day, was reunited with a guy I haven't seen in probably about 20 years. Our families are very close friends, and he had an interview in Portland on Monday. He wanted to come up early to check out the city. It was so bizarre to get to know someone as an adult whom you had only known as a child. Bizarre, but fun. And interesting.
I made it back to NYC without incident -- whew.
A quick update. The show was AMAZING. Town Hall is a very intimate venue, and there were moments when he didn't even use a microphone. That man's voice makes me melt. Click here for the set list.
(and by the way, my music list has become a little Elvis-heavy these days, and Typepad seems to be capable only of inserting the image for North rather than for the correct album cover -- some sort of Amazon conspiracy to promote North, perhaps?)
Gothamist highlights the fact that now US News says internet dating is okay. Thank god. I was so worried.
In other exciting news, going to see Elvis tonight. Woo hoo!
It has been a spectacular week. One of those weeks when you sit and wonder who the fuck fell asleep in the control room. So now what. It's time for a major life shift. I can feel it, in the same way I could feel the hint of the nippy fall air when I woke up this morning.
It's time for a rededication -- to take care of myself physically and emotionally, to reach out to all of my friends, to be the positive person I know I can be.
(have I made you barf yet?)
Sounds very self-help/pop-psychology 101, I know, but it's true. Time to stop feeling sorry for myself, get out there, and live my crazy, fucked up life, enjoying every minute of it.
The lost post. Following the advice of a friend, I took this post down, but I wanted to leave the title to mark its place and for posterity's sake . . .
I am a junkie.
I will admit it. I am addicted to reading advice columns. What is it about reading advice columns that I enjoy, you may ask. Well, I had never really thought about it until this very moment. Perhaps it's the kinship -- oh, I've been in a situation just like that; perhaps it's the curiosity -- what kinds of life problems are others facing?; perhaps it's the problem solving aspect -- now, how would I answer that? Or, most likely, it's a little word I learned courtesy of the folks at Avenue Q -- schadenfreude.
Schadenfreude -- n. Pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others.
I read and have read many advice columns in my day. The first guilty pleasure that I started reading on a regular basis was Dear Mr. Blue, by Garrison Keillor, on Salon. Now, he's a well-respected guy, right? That's "acceptable" reading material, right? Unfortunately, the rest of my fixes aren't so "acceptable." They include Get Naked, from Time Out New York, and the Em and Lo Down, from Nerve. I read those, of course, for the pure entertainment value.
Advice columns can provide a great service to society. Take, for example, Go Ask Alice, a site that was originally designed to offer advice to Columbia students, but has since expanded to answer questions from folks well beyond the confines of Columbia's campus.
Today's advice included my usual, Since You Asked (which took the place of Dear Mr. Blue), and a great column from The Morning News, which made me laugh (well, more like cackle or chortle) out loud. Not so great at work.
Need advice? Send me your questions and I will impart my great wisdom upon you.
Yesterday was a fantastic food day. I slept late (always good for a Sunday), then brought my neighbor, Glenn, and his friend Clancy to HSF for dim sum. Every time I go to dim sum, I wonder why I don't go more often. We had the crab, which I had the last time I went -- it's my absolute favorite thing there. It's sauteed in a ginger-based sauce with scallions, and is a complete mess to eat. What more could you ask for? We also had salt-baked shrimp, roast pork buns, a smoky and sticky variety of fried rice, roast duck, shrimp rolls, and variety of dumplings -- shrimp dumplings, seafood dumplings, and pork dumplings, each in a different type of wrapper. Amazing. For the first time, I left without feeling completely stuffed.
Our next adventure involved wandering through the Feast of San Genarro. It's absolutely mind-boggling to me that even after our dim sum feast, all of the gluttony that is San Genarro still managed to make my mouth water. I settled on a lemon ice, which I shared with the boys.
Next and final food stop of the afternoon was the Bespeckled Trout, an old-fashioned soda shop in the West Village. Glenn and Clancy got milkshakes, but I could only make room for an egg cream. I've been thinking about getting seltzer so I can make egg creams at home -- is it kosher to make egg creams with anything other than Fox's U-Bet syrup? Hmmm . . .
The other day I told my brother and sister about my weblog. They're 22-year-old twins, both living in New England. My sister has recently graduated from college and is working at the moment at an apple orchard, and my brother is finishing his last year in college. They're both very smart, energetic, athletic, and outdoorsy. Neither one of them knew what a weblog is, or could understand why on earth anyone would want one. Well -- hopefully they'll a) enjoy it anyway, b) not tell my parents about it, and c) not disown me. At least I'm only their half-sister.
I told a few other friends about it as well. Maybe I'll start to get comments . . .