Rock the Berkshires

I think heaven is a giant outdoor party half-filled with people you know and the other half with new fun people and with unlimited free-flowing booze and music and dancing and food.

At least, that’s what this weekend was.

That Voice

It’s hard to believe that a man who sounds this sexy comes from …ohio. He must have spent some time in N’awlins.

Forgive the fact that it’s a commercial. Don’t buy a Lexus. DON’T. But you might like to listen to his music.

It Is Good To Be A Lady!

I am dressed as a lady again. Men are ever so gracious to a lady in a dress and heels!

Boys Who Like Girls

I’m wearing a dress today. I never wear dresses. But I decided I need some new clothes for my New York adventure and there were so many cute ones that I tried a few on and took a few home. So I’m wearing a vibrant green little number and bronze sandals.

And I’m noticing a big difference in men’s reaction to me on the streets. Much more attention/looks/Hellos, many more men stepping aside and allowing me to pass through doors, etc. It’s weird, because I wasn’t entirely sure about this dress–it definitely shows my fat a bit more than the usual slacks and shirts I wear, but apparently the girly factor is more important to men. Who knew?

Hate Kills Writing

I was recently very inspired to write a screenplay and was very excited about this new project, but I’ve run into a roadblock. The problem is that the characters are based on me and a man, and in the course of writing it, I became so filled with hate, hostility, contempt for him that I couldn’t continue. He was coming out as some kind of ridiculous caricature. And I now can’t talk to him in real life because that hate is real and was there all along and I can no longer push it aside. Quite amazing the way the act of writing something down can make you see things differently. But it also made me realize that writing which is fueled by hate doesn’t work. I tried it once before with a novel, and actually completed the novel, but it was a shit novel. And now that all the hate from that long-ago scenario is long gone, I don’t even find the story interesting. I don’t know that I will ever go back and revise it into something good. So, hate = bad writing, bad stories. I’ve had much more success writing with love.

But I don’t have any of that right now for this person, so this story will have to wait. I’m trying to kill him with every word, and that doesn’t make for good writing.

Hipsters Aren’t So Bad

Williamsburg is growing on me. I always hated it before, and the 12-block stretch of Bedford near the Subway is still a disgusting hipster boardwalk, but I’m here on my own this weekend and somehow exploring it myself makes me see it with different eyes. Also I took the Chinatown bus directly to Williamsburg and was dropped off near the bridge, in a very immigrant-y area, so I see that the entire neighborhood isn’t completely gentrified. And walking from there to my friend’s apartment, where I’m staying alone while they are out of town, the hipster quotient of course increased, but I could still see the structure of the old Williamsburg; the backbone is still there. The Columbian bakeries, the tiny immigrant-owned grocery stores, etc. Also the spas, the hipster coffee shops and bars etc., but somehow seeing it in that order, that progression, made it less offensive to me. And now I might even say I like it.

Some Things I Am Grateful For

1. Everything going wrong

2. Flirting

3. Men w/British accents (see #2)

4. Creative inspiration

5. Hope

Pickin’ Up Chicks

Interesting way to meet girls: Set up a telescope at the corner of Bedford and N.7th in Brooklyn and show passersby a view of Saturn.

Worst line I ever heard that actually worked (not on me): “You don’t betray your quantitativeness in your demeanor.”

I Am Not Obsessed

I would like to declare a moratorium on the overuse–or just the imprecise use–of the word “obsession.” I heard an interview with the authors of The Lie Detectors: The History of an American Obsession recently and this title is a prime example. I am American, and I can assure you I am not obsessed with the Lie Detector test. Nor do I know anyone who is. Nor would I even agree that anyone in law enforcement who actually uses lie detectors is “obsessed” with them. It’s the wrong word. I would bet that there is not one law enforcement officer alive who wakes up every morning thinking about lie detector machines, can’t get the machines out of his head. Perhaps people today have too much faith in them, and perhaps there is a particularly American reason for that; I don’t disagree with the thesis necessarily. Just the use of that word. A word everyone now overuses. Please stop. If you discover some new kind of candy or shoes or cardboard boxes and you really really like them, you are not obsessed. Find a new word.

p.s. this goes for the use of “addicted to” as well.

Me, My New Hair, and the Flu

Thanks, D.C.

For gentrifying so rapidly and pushing all your criminals over the border to us. I don’t think crime ever goes down, it just gets pushed around to different areas.

Some Reactions to My New Haircut

1. “Is that what you wanted them to do?”

2. “Do YOU like it?”

3. “It’ll take some getting used to.”

4. “You got your hair cut?” (followed by long pause with crinkled nose)

4. No reaction at all (passive disapproval).

#46

The view outside my office window.

From the Mouths of Babes #3

“Hi fuzzy.”

–3-year-old nephew, upon seeing his mother emerge from the shower

MIA

Someone recently chided me on my lack of blog posts of late. This is who I hang out with these days. That should explain it.

Conversation with a Cabbie in Dubai

I am pondering a trip to Dubai and came across this amusing post on the Washington Post’s Vagablog, a blog about travel:

Cabbie: Where are you from?
Us: Washington, D.C. in the United States.
C: You know George Bush?
U: (polite laughter) No, we’ve never met him.
C: You know Osama Bin Laden?
U: (slight discomfort) No…. We’ve never met him either.
C: Do you want to meet him?
U: (wondering where he’s going with this) Um… no. (sincerely hoping that we’re not on our way to see him right now)
C: I want to meet him very much.
U: Uhhh… Really? Why?
C: So that I could turn him in to the United States and gets lots and lots of American dollars. (hysterical guffaws)
U: (relieved smiles) Oh, okay.
C: No, I couldn’t do that. They would kill all my family. (another explosion of hilarity)
U: (polite but uncomfortable laughter)

All-New!

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How ya like the new digs?

I Need a Job in New York, A Subletter in Cambridge

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Ever since it was made official that I am moving to Queens July 1 I have been running into old friends all over the place. One even popped up to say she’s moving one block away from me in Cambridge NEXT WEEK. It’s nice. It feels right. My social schedule for the next month is going to be busier than it ever was in my 6 years in boston.

But aside from social engagements I am going to be spending the next month looking for a job. So is Tony, apparently, but not in New York. If you know of any positions available in New York, preferably film-related but that’s not an absolute necessity, let me know. I’ve got mucho film festival experience, writing experience, editing experience, admin experience, liquor-selling experience, I can do it all.

And if anyone wants to sublet my room, let me know. Also if anyone wants to give me a large sum of money, let me know. Thanks.

New Apple Store in NYC

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And it’s open 24 hours. WTF.

via the edge

I’m a New York Blogger Now

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