who's the master?

I am currently rocking out to Journey "Any Way You Want It." Alone. And I am having a fun, sexy time.

So Mike is now a contributor to the blog - thought it would spice things up, kick it up a notch. And we're basically the same person anyway, so it was the most logical step to take. Word.

Top Quotes of the Day:
1. On her golden goddess tan: "I'm going through my Hispanic phase." - Cari
2. On being a pimp whore: "I've been trying to figure out when I became such a catch." - Stan

And props to Stan for sending me a link to the most amazing thing I've ever seen in my life. Period. And sharing is caring. So this is my good deed for the day.

subtexts

From "Language and Culture" by Carol and Melvin Ember 1995:

"Besides producing and understanding an infinite variety of sentences, speakers of a language can tell when a sentence is not ‘correct’ without consulting grammar books. For example an English speaker can tell that ‘Child the dog the hit’ is not an acceptable sentence, but ‘The child hit the dog’ is fine” …only a few sentences later… “Noam Chomsky’s theory about syntax, know as transformational/generational theory, suggests that language has a ‘surface structure’ and a ‘deep structure.’ For example, the sentences ‘John killed Mary’ and ‘Mary was killed by John’ have different surface structures ( John is the subject of the first; Mary is the subject of the second). But the sentences mean the same thing to the English-speakers…” ...violent farce

don't let me down

Today on the subway, there was a bright green grasshopper/cricket(?) on one of the ads above the seats. I stared at it for a while, and wondered if it was just chilling, or freaking out.
It was probably freaking out.
Poor grasshopper/cricket(?).

Got to hang out with the office outside of the office yesterday. The night started at around 8 pm at Mad River with $1 drinks, and ended at around 7 in the morning at some diner on the Lower East Side - with many bummed cigarettes, some karaoke, and Gray's Papaya in between. Kind of blurring the lines between 'co-workers/canvassers' and 'friends' - and for some people, the line between 'friends' and 'more than friends.' More to come on that last part, maybe.

End of July is already coming up. Weird.

Apparently my mom's making a surprise visit to Jersey on Monday, for God knows what reason. Probably has to do with the house.

I haven't been writing anything these past few weeks (music-wise), but that may soon be remedied.

I'm tired and babbling. I'm listening to my "august nights" playlist and it's hitting the spot. In particular, The Beatles' "Don't Let Me Down" and Aimee Mann's "It's Not":

So baby kiss me like a drug like a respirator
And let me fall into the dream of the astronaut
Where I get lost in space that goes on forever
And you make all the rest just an afterthought
And I believe it's you who could make it better
But it's not
No, it's not

w-t-f

So apparently sometime during the night, one strand of my hair decided to turn white.
It was either white, or really really platinum blonde, but that's unlikely since the root was white as well.
Just a single, white strand. Sticking out like a sore thumb.
I mean yeah, granted my hair has been getting much lighter from the sun, but it was a moment of:
"WTF?"

Anyway.
Philharmonic Concert a few nights ago turned out to be fine. The music was beautiful, the fireworks were okay, and we all had a good time.
Until Katrina II hit.
So here's what happened: the concert ends, the fireworks end, and it seemed to be turning into a nice cool night. I go with Julia to the bathroom, go in, come out, and sometime during the 30 seconds I was inside the bathroom, a torrential downpour began. We basically lost half of our group when we got back to the lawn, so Julia, Molly and I followed the mass exodus of cheering drunk concertogers out of the park. I've never been so soaked through from rain in my life. Needless to say, the air-conditioned subway ride back home was just dandy. And by dandy, I mean it was the worst feeling ever.
Basically, there was a lot of:
"WTF?"

Then last night we went to see the Upright Citizens' Brigade in the Park. The acts were pretty good (esp. Todd Barry), we laughed, chuckled, and "....that wasn't funny"-ed our way through. So right before the last act (which turned out to be awful), the emcees come onstage and say "Our final act wanted someone famous to introduce them. So we got someone famous. He's a literary figure, and most people don't know what he looks like. If you've read Catcher In The Rye or Franny and Zooey..." and at this point I'm thinking,
"WTF?"
"Isn't Salinger dead???"
"Are they fucking kidding?"
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"
and it felt like everyone in the audience was pretty much thinking the same thing, judging from the number of heads turning towards their neighbors' with that "WTF?" look.
Anyway, they introduce J.D Salinger.
This old man walks onto the stage, white hair, wearing a navy blue librarian caridan and slacks, and in kind of a soft voice begins to introduce the last act. Honestly I dont remember much of what he said because I kept turning to Caroline and her friend, going, "Are they kidding? Is this a gag? Seriously, ISN'T SALINGER DEAD?"
Although I do remember that he was carrying around little notecards, which was cute. So yeah. Pretty sure it was actually Salinger, in his first public appearance in god knows how many decades. (And it turns out that he's still alive and well, according to Wikipedia.)
The best part is, Salinger came out of his reclusive ways to introduce this piece of shit act that consisted of two men looking like they came from Rocky Horror, throwing condoms into the audience and screaming "BOOOOOOBIES!!!!!" into the mics.
So again,
"WTF?"

Then today I had an emotionally draining day at work, but not because of the work itself. It just so happened that during the morning, every other person I spoke to had something snide and asshole-ish to say to me. For no reason. Which can get rough after a few hours. But thankfully the people I work with are great (or should I say, "SOLID!") and were looking out for me. Also, I love having Molly around because neither of us have ever had a real job in an office setting, so we're having a field day analyzing all of the office drama (including the office crushes *giggle*) - me loves it.
Had dinner at Chumley's (huzzzah!) with Cari and Molly. A fly landed in my cider. We all watched it struggle around for a bit, while commenting on how drunk it must be. Then it eventually died (of alcohol poisoning, we figured). But then I looked back after a few minutes and it was moving around again, so I guess it just got drunk and passed out for a bit. Sweet.
(They did give me a new cider, by the way.)

I don't know why I'm still typing. I suppose what I'm trying to say is, the past few days have been chock full of many many "WTF" moments (many more than I chose to list). And I have a feeling the next few weeks will be chock full of even more moments not unlike the aforementioned ones. Yes, I just wrote "not unlike".

My unlimited Metrocard expires tomorrow. Boo.

democrats, congress, yadda yadda yadda

Nothing really to update about. Been "working" i.e asking strangers for lots of money. This new "job" has definitely given me some interesting new perspectives on people (including myself).

1. Today I was canvassing on 14th and 8th Ave, across from Balducci's. At one point, I was harrassed by a drunken homeless man. Which was unsettling. And at another point, I had an in depth conversation with another homeless man (who, unlike the first, was extremely cordial and knowledgable. And I also didn't realize he was homeless for a good few minutes).
2. I never would have thought I could survive being outside on the pavement for five hours on a day, especially on a day like today when it was over a hundred degrees with the humidity. But I did it! (And I'll have to do it again and again)
3. I thought I could tell a liberal from a conservative just from appearance, but the "never judge a book by its cover" saying has kicked me in the ass time and time again. Although, any sort of Lilly Pulitzer is always a surefire sign of a conservative - I have yet to have that theory proven wrong.
4. My office is full of ambiguously straight men, and it's funny/sometimes weird. But in general I think everyone at the office is either a stoner or a drunk. Or both. Which is great.
5. I'm rockin a sick flip-flop tan.
6. I'm trying to avoid getting a farmer's tan from my DNC tshirt, because as we all know, farmer's tan = epitome of "unfortunate."
7. The more I do this "YAY DEMOCRATS, BOO REPUBLICANS" spiel, the more I'm turned off by partisan politics, and the whole toolish feeling still hasn't gone away (and probably won't), but eh, the job pays.

And that's about it for now. Tomorrow's the Phliharmonic concert, hopefully it won't rain again *fingers crossed*

across/down

Today, I had an unintentional day off from work.
I got up at the crack of dawn and was at the office by 9 am to start field work on the streets today, but it turns out that one of the directors forgot to tell me to bring my passport so that I could fill out tax forms and such, so I would have to wait until tomorrow to actually get on the field.
...Boo-hoo.

So, being given the day off, I skipped my way to Washington Square Park (and by skip, I mean I took the train), got some iced coffee and the Times, sat on a park bench and did as much of the Monday crossword puzzle as I could (although I had to call Stan to look up the capital of Bulgaria - which is Sofia, btw), went to Kimmel for a bit, skipped my way up to Columbia where I met Julia and her friend Molly for brunch.
Funny thing though, as I got off the train, I recognized DNC people on the street right in front of the gates - the very people I had seen in the office that morning, in fact. And I laughed. On the inside. Partly at them, but as myself as well, since now I kind of have a visual of what I must look like.
Anyway. Turns out Molly is a crossword fiend, so she helped me (the novice) out and we finished the rest of it juntas. I hadn't done a crossword puzzle in AGES, but needless to say, I'm hooked. I definitely plan on getting a copy of Will Shortz's easy crossword puzzle books for the planeride, or trainride, or....boatride....?

Columbia was interesting for several reasons, but the best moment was probably the one involving an ex & being stoned. Could have really cashed in on the potential awkwardness of the situation, but ultimately didn't.

Then I went downtown and shifted into frou frou gear, met up with Caroline and Cari for a lovely, food-coma inducing dinner, which was followed by a showing of 'Wordplay' at the IFC.
Which, by the way, was AAAAMAZING. I had a huge, goofy grin plastered on my face the entire time. It was dorky, it was sweet, it was just such a wonderful, feel-good movie. I don't think I've felt that chipper and warm after a film since....I don't know, Amelie. And it was fitting that I watched it today, after having taken up crossword puzzles again for the first time in years. Oh, and watching/hearing Clinton eloquently relate understanding crossword puzzles to understanding and creating foreign policy - WHILE nonchalantly filling out the puzzle, btw - made me wonder what would happen if Dubya was confronted with the Sunday Crossword Puzzle.
No, what am I thinking?! Make it a Monday Crossword Puzzle.
Just the thought of it makes me shudder.
I mean, not that he would even go so far as to pick out the Arts section in the NYTimes in the first place, since he doesn't really do the whole reading-the-newspaper-and-being-informed thing (and if he did, he would definitely not be getting his news from the NYTimes), but still. Really drove the point home that:
Clinton: Bush, as Night: Day

Then after I said my goodbyes to two of my favorite gals, I ran into my future Paris roommate in the subway and we had a quick chat on opposite sides of the turnstile. Whee, Paris.

Um, I should go to bed. But the moral of this entry is....Yay, Tax forms?


Oh, and I friended Michael Cera (aka George Michael Bluth) on Myspace. The End.

no subject

Je suis tres fatiguee, il y a une house fly enorme dans ma chambre, et je ne sais pas pourquoi j'ecris en francais.

Anyway.

Lots of interesting and bizarre stories from work (especially from my training day yesterday) and its only been two days. I don't particularly feel like recounting everything on the blog. I already feel like enough of a tool.
So yeah. Beginning next week, I think I'll be working on the street team, because the hours I have now are just not working out, although the crews are smaller and then people I work with are - for the most part - great. So...if that works out, in four days time I will be sitting (more likely passed out) on the Great Lawn listening to Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto.
Normally, I'd organize an elaborate picnic or something, but at the moment I barely have the energy to move from my desk to the bed (which is approximately 3 feet away), so if anyone wants to come, just show up and bring a blanket or something. I think the concert's at 8. On Wednesday. Get there early if you want a decent spot.

...nukes are for kids!

I finally found a pair of galoshes today! (They're red.) I've been meaning to get a pair for some time now, but was being lazy about it. However, now that I have a job that requires me to be outside everyday from 4-9, rain or shine, I figured it was high-time to get a pair of effing rain boots.

I know you're thinking, "Did she just say job?"

Indeed, you read correctly. I have a job for the next six weeks. One that pays, but simultaneously robs me of any social life (minus the weekends).
I'm working for Grassroots Campaigns, going door to door raising money for the Democratic National Committee. Yep, I'm going to be one of those people walking around the city with a clipboard, regurgitating a shpiel about winning a Democratic majority in Congress this fall - one of those people I always used to pass, feigning preoccupation with my cellphone or something. But the people I met at the office seemed nice (coincidentally, they were NYU grads as well. Nice political science majors from NYU? I thought they were an urban myth) and the job pays, so I'll just have to deal with it.
But just one more thing: when they told me the job was full-time, I figured it was Mon-Fri, 9-5. But it turns out it's Mon-Fri, 1-10 (since we have to catch all of the cranky 9-5-ers at home, when they're back from their normal-work-hour jobs). Which first of all, blows. And secondly, it's more than 8 hours. And finally, it means that I'll be missing the Philharmonic concerts in the park, which I was looking forward to SO MUCH. Sigh. I know I sound like a whiny brat, but the thought of missing the concerts really bums me out for some reason. Maybe because the repertoire is so amazing this year. I don't know.
But you should all go, and then tell me how it is. I'll just pretend I went or something.
Anyway, I start the job tomorrow. Huzzah.
(Wish me luck.)

So I'm spending my last, glorious day of laziness being...well, lazy. But not really; I've been trying to do write-ups of each of my pieces - putting the lyrics into context, etc. I have a few write-ups so far from last year, but the thought of doing one for each of the 30 songs is a little daunting; today I finished one for 'Prisms & Intentions.' I had started writing about this piece I think last summer while I was sitting in the airport waiting to board a flight. And it was so interesting to read what I had written then, because I had totally forgotten that the entire song had stemmed from something a friend said, and I had written the quote down. And if you asked me today what the song was based on, I wouldn't have that precise of an answer for you. Essentially, the whole write-up process just allows me the objectivity of analyzing what I'm writing and why I'm writing it. And the more songs I write, the more I start to forget why I wrote the previous songs. I've yet to let anyone read them (except Naima, my "manajer"), since no one's that invested in my music anyway (except Naima). But it feels good to hash things out for myself. And it keeps me away from the flaming pit of boredom.

Also, had a really gratifying discovery today.
The more I read about the Glass family in Salinger's "Franny and Zooey," the more parallels I began to draw between that family and the Royal Tenenbaums. Something about Franny reminded me of Margot, Bessie (the mother) was reminiscent of Etheleine, the seven children were all featured on a radio show It's A Wise Child, and basically all peaked when they were kids, etc.
I figured I was just over-analyzing, as usual. (I even went so far as to think that "Zooey" re-assembled would read "Oozey," which sounds like Chas's son "Uzi.")
BUT LO AND BEHOLD.
I went on Wikipedia (which I believe is the Internet's cradle of civilization and all things good) and searched the Glass family, since they're featured pretty frequently in Salinger's stories, and this is what I found:
"Some of the characters in the Wes Anderson movie The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) were purportedly modelled after the Glass family."
HEEEEYOOOOO!!! I'm not crazy after all. (Although I admit the Oozey/Uzi thing was a bit far-fetched.)
So....there's the highlight of my day so far. That, and I began working on some accompaniment for a new song, which means the dry spell might be over.


Anyway. I think I'll go check CNN or Nytimes.com to see if Kim Jong Il has launched any more flimsy missiles to Alaska.
Silly Kim...[insert title of blog entry]

why, colin firth, why?

Maybe I should take more afternoon naps. Today I took one and had a dream in which I hooked up with Colin Firth (hot). It was actually a very elaborate dream that involved a whole cast of English characters, and it took place on a set, I think. Very Gosford Park.

BUT!

He turned out to be a bad kisser (not hot). It was disappointing enough in the dream, but after I woke up it continued to bother me. Think about it, if the man of my dreams (literally) turns out to be an awful kisser, what kind of precedent does that set for the average Joe? Was this foreshadowing? Am I to be plagued with bad kissers for the rest of my life??!

On second thought, maybe I shouldn't take anymore afternoon naps.
But at least it involved Colin Firth. He's on my very short list of "Hot Older 'O with a capital O' Men". I guess the list grows longer if you include George Harrison, Gregory Peck, and Jimmy Stewart, but they're dead so they're kind of in a whole different category.
Whatever.

I had a little *squeal* moment when I saw one of those middle school surveys on Patches' blog. I used to be a survey FIEND. For quite some time. So naturally, taking the survey from Patches will probably trigger some sort of relapse. And thus it begins again...

A - Available: Hah, have you ever met me? I'm the poster child for singledom.
A - Age: 19
A - Annoyance: Clingy people (and clothes, actually)

B - Best Friend: iTunes
B - Beer: Magic Hat 9, the cider at Chums
B - Birthday: August 17th

C - Crush: Topher Grace
C - Car: I shouldn't be trusted behind the wheel. But the family car is a Navigator (I know, fuel-guzzling, but I wasn't ever part of the decision-making process)
C - Candy: Twizzlers

D - Day or night: Night, bien sur!
D - Dream Car: It used to be an Audi TT...it isn't anymore, but I haven't found a replacement dream car yet.
D - Dog or cat: Dogs, and especially puppies. Have they figured out a way yet to keep dogs in a permanent "puppy" phase? That would be convenient.

E - Easiest person to talk to: Myself, I guess. But I don't talk to myself out-loud. Because that would be weird.
E - Eggs: Scrambled or hard-boiled; but when they're hard-boiled I can't eat the yolk, it grosses me out.
E - Email: deborahoh@nyu.edu


F - Favorite Month: It's a toss up between April and September
F - Favorite color: Right now I think it's either pale yellow or ivory.
F - Favorite Memory: Probably something from my late childhood, which is pretty much when I peaked.

G - Gummy Bears or Worms: Bears, MOS DEF.
G - Giver or taker: I would say giver, but everyone I know would probably say otherwise. Which is fine, because it's probably true.
G - Gum: Orbit. The spearmint kind.

H - Hair Color: Brownish. It's getting lighter every day. Soon I'll have platinum blonde hair.
H - Height: 5'3" or 5'4" I think.
H - Happy: What kind of a cue is this? Am I happy? Sure. Do I have a pet ostrich named Happy? No, but if I ever do get a pet ostrich, at least now I'll have a name for it.

I - Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Half Baked is a classic. Pineapple Coconut Haagen Daaz is also surprisingly good.
I - Instrument: I want to learn how to play bass, cello, drums, and the harp.
I - Idol: Colette

J - Jewelry: Not really.
J - Job: Not really.
J - Jail: Not really.

K - Kids: Not having them. Maybe I'll adopt. Maaaybe.
K - Kickboxing or karate: Karate
K - Kindergarten: Heaven?

L - Longest Car Ride: From Alaska through the continental USA up to Maine and then back down to Jersey. Two weeks.
L - Longest relationship: On and off for 2 years
L - Last Kiss: Well if we count the Colin Firth dream, earlier today.

M - Milk Flavor: Ewwwwww milk. If absolutely necessary, chocolate.
M - Most missed person: Can't think of anyone at the moment. Well no that's a lie, I just don't feel like naming the person.
M - Movie Last Watched: Rushmore (with commentary)

N - Number of Siblings: Une
N - Number of Tattoos: Zero
N - Name: Deborah Consuela Mamoun Princess Banana Hammock Oh (or something like that). But legally, Deborah Oh.

O - One Wish: World Peace! *cheesy grin*
O - One Fear: I go absolutely crazy when confronted with insects. It's irrational, and I can't do anything about it, I just become paralyzed on the spot. Especially centipedes.
O - One regret: Not taking enough chances

P - Pet Peeves: Greasy hair, people who don't know the difference between the indoor and outdoor voice, fluorescent lighting, the flash on digital cameras. I could go on for days.
P - Part of your body you like best: Cheekbones, mouth
P - Part of your Personality you like best: The calm, cool, collected side. My life tends to fall to shambles when I'm flustered.

Q - Quote: "Peux ce que veux. Allons-y"
Q - Question for the next person: Why?
Q - Quick or Slow: Both. Quick when it comes to reading or making decisions, slow when it comes to walking and eating and drinking.

R - Reason to smile: Paris!
R - Reality TV show: America's Next Top Model
R - Reasons to cry: Many, but why think about them.

S - Song Last Heard: "America" - Simon and Garfunkel
S - Season: It's pretty much even between spring and fall, but if I really had to choose........I think fall.
S – Shoe: I try to avoid sneakers. My choice of footwear these days is my Havaianas.

T - Time you awoke: 10:30-ish
T - Time Now: 12:56 am
T - Time for bed: Who knows.

U - U love someone: Ugh I hate when "U" replaces "You." So I won't answer it.
U - Unpredictable: Maybe? I'd hate to be completely predictable.
U - Underwear: .....yes?

V - Vegetable you hate: Hm.....difficult....maybe squash or something.
V - Vegetable you love: Green beans!!!!
V - Vacation spot: I'm dying to go to Hawaii. Alaska aint half bad, either.

W- Worst Habits: Celebrity gossip, fiddling with my phone, killing sprees (just can't help myself), these surveys.
W- Where are you going to travel next?: Alaska in August.
W -Weather right now: No idea. I'm guessing gross and humid.

X - X-Rays: Never had one. *Knock on wood*
X - X-Rated Porn: Classy.
X - X-tra special someone: You. *another cheesy grin*

Y - Year you were born: 1986
Y - Year it is now: 2006
Y - Yellow: my umbrella!

Z - Zoo Animal: Tigers
Z - Zodiac: Leo
Z - Zoolander: Hansel, so hot right now.

It's funny, because I always get so bored when I get to the middle of the survey, and yet I keep plowing through. Way to persevere, me! *High five*
And I wasn't going to do any quizzes, but I couldn't help myself.

You Are Banana Pocky

Your attitude: fun and lighthearted Unique and unforgettable You are cutie everyone falls for

What Flavor Pocky Are You?

Your Linguistic Profile:

65% General American English

25% Yankee

5% Dixie

0% Midwestern

0% Upper Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

You Are Big Bird

Talented, smart, and friendly... you're also one of the sanest people around. You are usually feeling: Happy. From riding a unicycle to writing poetry, you have plenty of hobbies to keep you busy. You are famous for: Being a friend to everyone. Even the grumpiest person gets along with you. How you life your life: Joyfully. "Super. Duper. Flooper."

The Sesame Street Personality Quiz

You Are a Losing Lottery Ticket!

Full of hope and promise. But in the end, a cheap letdown.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

You Are Rowlf the Dog

Mellow and serious, you enjoy time alone cultivating your talents. You're a cool dog, and you always present a relaxed vibe. A talented pianist, you can play almost anything - especially songs by Beethoven. "My bark is worse than my bite, and my piano playing beats 'em both."

The Muppet Personality Test

magnolia mountain

Sometimes I wonder if Fate is being legit. I usually think of it as a pretty, symphonic fabrication that's pleasing to the ears and the mind but unrealistic and illogical. But there are moments like today for instance, when I second-guess myself. I picked up J.D Salinger's "Franny and Zooey" off of a bookstand near the park for three bucks. I had been sitting on a park bench with Mike for a good hour, just talking about how my life was in an unoriginal rut devoid of anything creative and exciting and new (and also watching weird performance art in the park which included people dressed up as Pacman and the little monsters chasing each other through the park in big awkward costumes).
Anyway, we went to browse one of those little outdoor bookstands (this one in particular had a limited, but amazing collection of everything I have already read and loved, and everything I hope to read and love), which is where I picked up "Franny and Zooey" and Hermann Hesse "The Journey to the East."
I began reading the Salinger as I was walking to the train station (very Belle of me) and finished the Franny story on the train ride. It's a short story, but packed with some pretty potent lines that really seemed to speak what I had been trying to articulate (albeit with a little more bite). Par exemple,

"...It's everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so - I don't know - not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless and - sad-making. And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you're conforming just as much as everybody else, only in a different way."

That was a pretty strong moment, particulary the last sentance. Here's another:

"I'm just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else's. I'm sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It's disgusting - it is, it is. I don't care what anybody says."

And one more for the road:

"Just because I'm so horribly conditioned to accept everybody else's values, and just because I like applause and people to rave about me, doesn't make it right. I'm ashamed of it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I'm sick of myself and everybody else that wants to make some kind of a splash."

Yeah, the words are a little harsh, but it fit my funk like a glove.
I walked back home from the train station in a complete daze, completely numb, but at the same time there was this weird crazy feeling of spontenaity under my skin. Hard to describe. Almost the feeling of things slowly clicking, maybe clicking in place, maybe out of place, but nevertheless clicking - not that weird muted noise I've been feeling for the past few days. I absolutely couldn't tolerate that feeling of...counterproductivity, it was so stifling.
So I started writing. A short story. It'll consist mostly of dialogue, and not much action, but it feels good to be writing again.

Alright, enough of the heavy stuff.
Went to Chumley's last night for the first time since I moved out of Greenwich. Good company, good food, good cider, good times.
Then went to a late show of "The Devil Wears Prada," which completely took me by surprise. I guess my expectations were low to begin with, since the book was um...how can I put this - bad. But Meryl Streep was spectacular, no - beyond spectacular. One glance from her gave more dimension to Miranda Priestly's character than the sum total of the rambling descriptions scattered throughout the 360-page novel.

Kicked off today with brunch @ Bubby's with Caroline and Mike, where naturally we exchanged vicious gossip about everyone we know, threw things at the waiters, kicked small dogs, and fed each other's egos.

Just kidding. Except the part about feeding each other's egos, because we do that all the time.

I'd really like to arrange a big-band piece. 20's style. Either write my own piece or, ideally, do a cover of "Mack the Knife." Realistically, it'll probably just end up on my growing, random to-do list, along with going to Tibet and learning to play the drums.
Yeeeeeaaah......