New York, NY: Slope Sunday

Leah, post auto-focus; Masha and Leah on manual

Sunday was first brunch with Masha and Leah at Cheryl's in Prospect Heights. It was delicious and so are they. We caught up on life, their reunion, changing bodies, bad dancing (eh-hem.)

After I swung by Union Hall to catch Sarah and Raf's bocce game. Their team name is "Schweaty Balls." We had a chance to chat fireside as Sarah and I tried to convince Raf that they must move to San Francisco. I miss this girl!

For those of you who might be following this connection: Raf and Tom Roberts were serious friends at Middlebury ---> Tom is doing a PHD at Stanford ---> Stanford is practically in SF ---> Sarah and Raf will want get together with their friends in SF all at once ---> I will be reunited with TR. Phewph!


Sarah; bocce court


pretty tp; Team SW vs Team Mud

New York, NY: Party Up!

I got into Talia's around 11pm on Saturday night. Her apartment was packed as a schlepped my luggage and fugly airport face through the crowd. With a pat of lipstick I was ready to go! We stayed at Talia's for a while then drove over in Rosie's parent's Subaru (pinkos!) to a party in Brooklyn Heights for a girl-on-girl-fest. We went back to Talia's for dancing then Nikki, Heather and I went to the Cattyshack for more girl-on-girl-fest until they kicked us out. We ended the night back at Talia's and Heather and I finally got back home at the crack of dawn.

It was one of those rowdy New York nights that - for better or worse - are much less frequent for me in California.


Rosie's sneaks customized with love by her beau;* party
*Rosie and David fulfil my bohemian artist lifestyle fantasy - keep an eye out for future posts on Bed Stuy artist colonies and a interview with the Brian Leher, preferably about labor.


Rosie, Heather, Nikki; rims


party; friends and 40s

Houston, TX: Day Three, Four

Friday was a long day of schmoozes and "hello, have you heard of CI...?"s. We were able to spend some time alongside the rooftop pool - believe it or not, the weather here has been very kind to us; its hot but not humid.


Dr. T and RF, post convention snacks

Saturday will be more of the same (the "hello...."s, not the pool) during the day. Whatever I have to toil through is totally eclipsed by the fact that I will be flying home in the evening! To my real home! To New York!! I'm planing on cabbing it straight to Brooklyn from LaGuardia. Its seems that all of my post-high school friends live with in a twenty block radius. This is sad because I no longer live within that radius myself, but it is convenient for getting together. I hope to catch all the Local 6 refugees at Talia's party and have a sleepover with Ratty; Leah and Masha for brunch but I hope the come out too and Sarah as well. Since I will only be home until Wednesday morning I need to maximize "fren time" and see as many fantastic faces for as much quality time as possible. I miss them tanto!
DOUBLE DROOL! I CAN NOT WAIT!

Houston, TX: Day Two, Charming

This chair is a golf ball

On our second day in Houston we ventured out of the windowless convention hall to explore a more personable region of the city. Maria, mamma Hilary and I caught the 82 bus across from our hotel and quickly arrived at the intersection of Westheimer and Dunlevy, the heart of the Montrose neighborhood. Because there are few zoning restrictions in Houston, Montrose is home to an eclectic mix of homes, restaurants, shops, and gay bars. There is an undeniable Southern charm to this area, despite an occasional patch of strip mall (is Houston not the definition of urban sprawl?) The majority of the architecture incorporates aged bungalows with semi-renovated interiors. Ivy and flowering vine cover a typical facade. This format gives the impression that one is in a sleepy bohemian town rather than a city of 2.14 million.

We dug through a handful of the many vintage and second hand shops that line Westheimer. I made a few parsimonious purchases, including an unused pair of Keep skimmers in their green African print (SCORE! Perhaps you have seen the knockoffs at Old Navy this spring? Gah, this NOT a fashion blog.) We met up with Maria's college friend and her Devandra-channelling boyfriend for Thai. They served purple sticky rice just like Ithaca. It was a lovely evening. I think we were all relieved to see the Houston that lies beyond the soulless business district.


Tchotchkes


My spirit walls; fine shopping


That 70's Shop; "The" Shop

Houston, TX: Day One

Greeting from Houston! I will be in this fine city until Saturday evening, when I will fly east for a week.

I have nothing to say. I am totally yack-less at the moment (blame the 4:45Am taxi pick-up.)

"central," "park," "reservoir," "parakeet"

On occasion some details from an article I read in the New York Times long ago pops onto my mind. It was a short piece describing the underwater treasures found in the Central Park Reservoir. I think the article has stuck with me so long is because I have spent so many hours running around the jogging path, contemplating the hidden prizes beneath the murky water.

The article came to me again tonight as I was reading the paper online. I set out to search for it. Working with several permutations of "central," "park," "reservoir," etc. I finally tried the one major detail I remember: a decapitated parakeet floating in the water. Kismet! Adding "parakeet" to my query yielded a solitary result, "Couple Scouring Murky Reservoir Find Fulfillment, and Lots of Bottles" by Douglas Martin on October 1, 1996. I was surprised to see that the article was from so long ago though my sixth grader memory did not serve me entirely correctly. The article is more about the lives of a scuba diving pair than sunken loot than a sunken parakeet (drowning, not mutilated after all):

Wearing full scuba gear, George and Catherine Parry have been scouring the reservoir for a month to retrieve, among many other things, thousands of whisky, soda and champagne bottles, four basketball hoops, six dead rats, nine Frisbees, more than 100 tennis balls and a dozen rackets, many handfuls of spent shells, dozens of knives, a dead raccoon, a briefcase, a faceless alarm clock, a toy shovel and a drowning parakeet they strove unsuccessfully to save. They found a baby carriage, but no evidence of a baby.

I am satisfied, even happy to see that the article opens with a mention of Alberto Arroyo, the "Mayor" of the Reservoir, whom I have passed along the pump house at leas a thousand times. Perhaps you have seen him too - though not abusing domesticated fowl I hope!

Steamboat, CO: More Pizza, Less French Fry

Greetings from glorious Steamboat, Colorado! I am here with my father and sister on a long-weekend ski trip. Steamboat is a quaint winter-destination town about four hours northwest from Denver. It is a much cozier, less snooty than other Colorado destinations.

A little ubication thanks to Google Maps

My parents have been coming here for years and as has, relatively speaking, my sister. They ski several times a season either in Vermont or out West. As long as I have had the choice, I've always opted for warmer vacation destinations with friends, which is why I've missed so many ski trips over the years. For this reason I am probably the slowest and least dexterous person on the entire mountain. My sister and dad are pretty good, so I went along with them on the intermediate/advanced courses. Ouch! I really belong on the green circle bunny slopes. I do commend them for being patient with me. My dad's consoling motto, "if you ain't fallin' you ain't skiing!" has indeed been my credo this trip.


Dad and sister; Ski Bunny and Ski Troll





I did not ski these; chairlift!


The best signs in town

At present I cannot bend my knees and my calves are on fire. It was a good challenge but I think I'll stick with the beach next time around.