Patience, Grasshopper

boat that moved
Originally uploaded by *helmen.

It's raining out here in the country, as it has been for a few days. I'm also wearing a sweatshirt, at noon. This brings up the issue that summer is coming to an end. I'm cold in the mornings and I'm slowly running out of the strawberry daquiri scented lotion and body spray that I bought back in June. Perhaps that's for the best. In a few weeks that smell will be woefully out of season, like a candy cane in the middle of July. In its place, I have some L'Occitane honey-scented stuff.

Funny story: On Friday afternoon I went to a tap class that was supposed to be easy -- at least that's how it was listed on the schedule. I got there and the teacher was 15 minutes late, which is strange for this particular studio which prides itself on professionalism.

The class started as most tap classes do, with assorted warm ups involving shuffles and flaps and ball changes. I was looking for a mellow but good work out, as I had had the day before. I just like to keep my skills sharp. All of a sudden the class started speeding up, defintely not at the level that it should have been at and not at a level that I was comfortable. I started to get mad at the teacher, who was kind of paying more attention to one advanced student than the rest of us.

I got confused. This woman was a phenomenal dancer, and a rhythm tapper at that. Any day of the week I would pay money to watch her perform. At the moment, though, I was paying money to learn from her, and all I felt was frustration because she was on her own planet, tapping as if no one else was in the room. I left at the end of class very frustrated and vowed never to take her class again.

Yesterday I was flipping around the homepage of another studio when I saw a bio of this teacher. I clicked on it and almost fell out of my chair. Not only did this woman have one of the most amazing tap resumes I had ever seen, but she used to be a dancer for Cab Calloway and toured with the Hi Di Ho Orchestra. I felt so ashamed. Who was I to get frustrated over a class that was being taught by one of Cab's best? If I stopped being such a brat for five minutes, I might actually learn something from this woman.

I'm going back later this week.

Velazquez Turns 30!!!

Velazquez, the world's biggest Yankee fan and fellow Syracuse Peep, crossed to the Dark Side (age 30) on Saturday night. We all gathered in Hoboken to mark (mourn?) the occasion.

First off, my hair. It was good before I got on the PATH train and the humidity had its way with me. I took photos of it.


Unlike many New Yorkers, I actually don't have any large issues with Hoboken. It's a fun little place, with lots of bars and some good shops. I can't hate on it the way that I do Murray Hill. Hoboken is what it is: A former sailor town that had the smarts to keep all its saloons in tact. If that's not wise urban planning, I don't known what it.

However, whose ides was it to put in an American Apparel? If you want to control your influx of frat boys, don't encourage them with waffle T's.


Even Hoboken has pretty flowers.


And stores named after moi.


When I got there, Dave was already deep into his Birthday Beer.


Ladies Love Dave V.


Dave collects the tops of Ben and Jerry's ice cream pints. I do not know why.


Debbie and Abby. Hotties.


Dave made sure there was plenty of booze to go around.


Liquor: It helps Dave defy gravity.


Velazquez and Conte: Like Twins


We work on our Zoolander stares


Syracuse Peeps and Some Chick


Thanks for the Goos Times, Dave!! Let's see how you feel at 40!!!

Journo Links

The Newhouse School of Public Communications, at Syracuse University (which was kind enough to grant me a few degrees) is offering a new award for reporting on the media. Good stuff.

I've started getting daily Poynter Institute articles in my e-mail, mostly to help my students. I found one about the sentence fragment. Now they can all stop asking me if it's okay to use them.

Cat Food at My Door

This morning I came home to the Gramercy Bunker after not being there for four days. My little apartment is in a dark nook in the basement, and you really have to know it's there to find it.

So why was there a bag of cat food at my door?

Granted at one point I had a cat, a wonderful gray beast named Pookie the Fearless. Alas, Pookie died of pancreatic cancer in December. When he lived with me I used to let him roam the basement halls when I did laundry. He was a friendly guy and would flirt with the other residents.

That still does not explain why there was a half full bag of Science Diet at my front door this morning. I was baffled, but went on with my errands.

A Site With Sass

I was flipping through my comments this AM and I found a link to this blog. It's new but funny, in a NYC girl about town kind of way. You should def read it.

Sass Attack

Tuesday.

Old Jetty
Originally uploaded by jacklim5.

It's early, but allergies being what they are today (weeds are at Very High) I'm trying to get things done before the afternoon onslaught. The allergies have not been treating me well lately. Yesterday I literally had to lie down for two hours because the fatigue was too much to deal with.

Yesterday afternoon I also realized that all the edits I made on a large magazine piece that I am working on have been lost. I still have the notes from the editor, but for some reason my changes never saved. That said, I will be spending most of my days starting from scratch so I can get this piece in soon. Hrmph.

I'll be busy today. Apologies if I don't update again until tomorrow or so.

Ahoy! A Trip to Mystic Seaport!

For weeks I've wanted to go up to Mystic Seaport, because since hanging out with Doug I have become more and more interested in all things nautical. Besides being a former naval aviator, Doug likes to watch Master and Commander on DVD and he owns all of Patrick O'Brien's books. So up to Mystic we went.

The whole set of the field trip can be found here. If you're not into photos of ships and masts and captain's wheels, perhaps my large collection of wedding shots are more your flavor.

First off, there was a strange meeting going on of antique boat engine enthusiasts. Random, but there was this whole section of the shore where these older men were showing off their turn of the century boat engines. No boats, just engines, like this number from 1905.

People have the darndest hobbies.


Mystic has some really cool ships, like this scooner, which was used for fishing cod back in the 1800s.


Then there was the Whaler, which was my personal fave.


The Whaler had a presentation where people would climb to the top of the masts to put the sails down, just like they did back in Master and Commander times. (If you haven't seen the film, you're missing out on a filthy but hunky Paul Bettany as the doctor.)

There is no need to ever be that high, even if you are strapped in.


What goes up, must come down.


At least the lemonade was made from real lemons.


Here's a real man of the sea.


Write Your Own Joke for This One


The third ship was a Danish-made training ship. It was nice, but no one was hanging off the masts like they were on the whaler. We didn't spend much time on it.


Always Good Advice


Mystic Seaport also has a recreated village of how it would have looked in the 1600 and 1700s, complete with blacksmith, chemist, schoolhouse, chapel and several homes. However, with Mystic being a seaport, I did not see the the Mystic House of Ill Repute anywhere. Surely a port town would have had a brothel or two. Maybe it was just closed for renovations when we visited.

On the way home we got stuck in traffic for about two hours. I passed the time flipping through radio stations and taking Robert Palmer girl shots of myself.


I didn't mean to turn you on.

Random August Photos

As most of you know, I'm kickin' back this summer and harpin' it easy, which leaves me with plenty of time to take photos while out and about. Readers seem to dig photos, so you'll have plenty to look at over the next few days.

On Wednesday I wandered arounf Nolita where I noshed at Cafe Gitane. It had been a while.

I Am Not...


Pinky Flowers


Last night I met up with Erin and Constantine. First we had drinks down at West in the Meatpacking/West Village area. Somehow or another, we ended up on the long line for the Magnolia Bakery at 10:30 PM.

Green Eyed Monsters


Pensive


Erin Does the Jessica Simpson Pose


With the Cupcake Bouncer


Get Your Cake On

Again With the Roaches

I found this link on Gawker. I am not the only person who struggles with roaches in NYC in summer.

New Column on The Simon

Today on The Simon I examine the delicate relationship between New Yorkers, summer and roaches.

Can't a Gal Just Sit Around in Her Underwear?

Shadow Wearing Jockey Shorts
Originally uploaded by ricko.

Yesterday I had some time to kill between shopping and class, so I curled up in my wicker chair with Stephanie Klein's new book, Straight Up and Dirty. I really like it.

This is America, so I firmly believe that if someone, even a lady, wants to sit in her home in her underwear, she has every right to do so. This is especially true if she lives in a basement apartment, as no one should be sticking their face into her little window anyway. Especially when she has blinds.

Apparently the men who are doing work on my building don't understand this, as I noticed them looking in every time they would come down the stairs past my window and into the basement. Yes, I eventually put on some pants, but why should I have to do that? I pay way too much money to have a stranger peer into my window every 20 minutes. Plus, it's rude.

The worst was yesterday when I came out of the shower in a towel and saw one of the workmen shouting at me through the window in Spanish, asking me to open the basement door. I yelled back at him that this was my house and to get his f*%#@ face out of my window. Apparently he not only didn't understand English, but tone of voice was lost on him as well. Eventually he picked up on our language barrier and walked away.,

Again, this morning I was I roused from sleep by the workmen banging things and stomping up the stairs. From behind the curtain that surrounds my bed, I saw them peering into my apartment. I showered quickly and left. It's too nice of a day to be inside, anyway.

Wednesday

blackberry red
Originally uploaded by First sight.

Funny thing: Whenever I am in Connecticut I am relaxed and do things at my own pace. Everything gets done, yet I never feel rushed. I don't even make a list.

However, the minute I get into NYC I am busy, busy, busy. Lists need to be made and chores need to be checked off. Headaches creep up.

For instance, right now I have anger with Bank of America. Bank of America and I have stormy history, and the only reason I stay with them is because I've had the account since 1995. I feel like I'm staying in marriage for the sake of the children.

Today's frustration is rooted in the fact that the bank is sitting on a large deposit I made over the weekend, simply because the checks were from out of state. Apparently they like to keep out of state money hostage for seven days before releasing it. I don't understand the logic behind that. Do they think the cash is a flight risk and therefore it must be watched? Can't they let it go on its own recognisance? Does Chase engage in this sort of Tom Foolery? I think it's time I looked into it.

Nevertheless, it's gorgeous outside. I just walked from SoHo to Gramercy, along the way checking out the Apple store, Urban Outfitters and a bunch of other stores. I stumbled upon a church that was playing Bach organ music at lunch. There was a salsa band in Union Square Park as well. Just because Bank of America has the intelligence of a fruit fly does not mean that my day must be ruined.

That is all.

Godfrey and Rachel Wedding Photos!

Godfrey and Rachel dragged us all out to Pittsburgh this weekend for their wedding, and it was the most fun I've had in a very long time. Putting 20 or so Syracuse people in one room, and together at several tables, will usually guarantee a good time. Sometimes I think that the Syracuse crew should rent ourselves out to other people's festivities, just to liven things up. Give us a location and enough alcohol and we're good to go.

One of the most interesting factoids about the wedding was that the reception was held in the same room that a scene from Silence of the Lambs was filmed. Remember when Hannibal Lechter was kept in a giant cage, right before he ate two guards' faces and escaped? That's the same room where we feted the new couple. No Chianti was served.

The whole set can be found here. Here are the highlights:

The Happy Couple


The Money Shot


Lookin' Saucy in the Church


Yes, I Know a Guy Named Iggy


Birds' Eye View of the Room


Little Cakes on Every Table


Gary Really Liked His Piece


We Clobbered Our Littles Cake


Arty Shot of Debbie and Me


Is That Velazquez?


Cutest. Baby. Ever.


Syracuse Crew


Bride, Mother of the Bride and Maid of Honor Dance to "Thriller"