Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon

It's one of my favorite games from college, and I thought I'd share it because I found out my co-workers didn't realize that anyone can be connected to Kevin Bacon. Well, any major actor. And me, now that I've met Marcia Gay Harden.But anyway, the game is fun and everyone should know how to do it!

1) You must connect the actor WITHIN 6 OR FEWER MOVIES.
2) Obviously it must have Kevin Bacon in it.

Example:

ELVIS PRESLEY worked with Edward Asner in Change of Habit (1969)
Edward Asner worked with KEVIN BACON in jFK (1991)

So it gets a Bacon score of 2.
Can be used with or without alcohol. Can be used on long car trips when the driver is getting lost. Can be used when procrastinating homework or at any other time.

:-) Makes me happy!

The Knock off Louis

Sometimes I get asked to do really weird things at work that seem totally out of whack to me and should seem abnormal to the people that have me do them, but apparently it was all fine print in my original job description. Yesterday afternoon one of our VPs (who commutes in from PA) asked me to go down to Canal Street and get his daughter a knock-off Louis Vuitton. There are a lot of factors in heading down to Chinatown for knock-offs and one of them is that they don't really trust men. This man happens to look exactly like a cop and since he was raised in Brooklyn his accent doesn't helpl his case. For some reason every sketchy salesperson ever trusts me so its not a problem for me to head down there and at least try. So he gave me some cash and away I went. Walking down there I planned out a strategy. First and foremost to go into a couple of booths and check out their wares.

Canal Street has two knock-off industries going. There is one that involves really bad knock-offs that look kind of like what a bag might look like but definitely isn't. Then there are the really good knock-offs that are kept behind closed doors and have to be found through these people on the streets who whisper the brands they carry into your ear. There is a hum of "Prada, Gucci, Dior, Louis Vuitton..." that you won't hear anywhere else in the world.

I wandered in and out of booths, finally selecting one off a street that seemed to at least have the right brands tacked on the bags. I loitered in there for a few moments before casually passing hte woman who ran the booth and asking, "Louis Vuitton?" She shook her head and motioned to a small statured Chinese man who was bouncing up and down the street, collecting people in a general area. I went up to him and nodded. He nodded back and shoved me through a plain metal door into a dank hallway with about six other people. We were herded into an elevator and went up an indiscernable number of floors before the doors opened into near-blackness. The man jumped out, looked up and down the hallway, motioned for us to be quiet, then herded us into a line. I saw doors all over the place, all labeled in letters and locked with padlocks. One of them was just closing and behind it I saw the white glow of the Dior summer collection. He pulled out more keys than a janitor, selected one and opened a lock, again shufffling us all into a room. This was full of Louis Vuitton hanging on the walls, carefully displayed on shelves. They were fantastic knock-offs and I was pleased to see the one that the VP's daughter wanted on the wall. I selected it and told him this was the one I wanted. We bargained for a few minutes, came to an agreed price, and I handed him the money while he knotted it in a plain black plastic bag. It was not dissimilar to a drug deal or buying porn.

He asked if I was done and when I said yes, jumped back out into the hallway, looked up and down, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. He waved me out there, shut the door behind me shuffled me back down the darkened hallway, opened another door and pushed me into a stairwell, slamming the door behind me. I was in a stairwell in a building I had never seen before and had no idea where the heck I was. I followed the stairs down and came out of another door in the wall, back into Daylight and the hustle and bustle of Canal Street.

It was such a funny experience but at the same time such a common one. You become really used to having to do such things in order to purchase knock-off bags or sneak into hip clubs or whatever you're trying to do. I think it's part of the New York way of life.

We all love Lohan

Yeah, right. i can't believe the girl gets as much coverage as she does. And I hope her publicist gets fired. Who else wouldn't try to cover up things like showing up late or not at all for work, visiting the hospital repeatedly for what seem to be bad hangovers, and staying out most of the night, thus creating hte late to work and hangover situations. It never fails to amaze me. How did we get to the point where we began to allow this teenage actress to become a regular on page six? I for one am very curious.

Lindsay is pretty. She had an eating disorder (which she later denied) but isn't looking too shabby these days. She has a little sister (can't wait to see HOW she turns out) a father in prison (who published an apology in a UK paper) and a little sister (also on her way to being another lIndsay. She dates older men, is good friends with Paris (wouldn't you want to be) and yet at the same time works on Disney movies (Herbie, anyone?). I have to say she has led some kind of life. Her mother believers she can do no wrong as firmly implied in every interview the woman ever does. To be honest, if my daughter were in a career that spilled into 7 figures, I wouldn't say a damn word either. We wouldn't want it to end up like Macauley Culkin or someone who declares emancipation because his or her parents are keeping the paychecks. I even saw a Law and ORder like that last night where a fifteen year old Russian model was supporting her entire family over what she made on the runway.

But Lohan is different. She is pretty, but not beautiful, Fairly well-proportioned but has a lot of freckles. So why do we love her so much? Her "natural" C-cup? Her inability to show up anywhere on time or appropriately dressed for it? Her lack of a quality publicist (now I'm imaging they're just a friend of the family's who happened to be bored when Lindsay came important enough to talk about.

I dont' really have any answeers. THe metro has written about her a lot in the last few days. It's gotten to the point where I'm as sick f her as of Balenciaga knock-off bags. Come on Korea. You and LIndsay should get together and talk about how to make thinsg look better for each other and your selves.

The Last Kiss

On Saturday i went with Boyfriend and Friend C to see "The Last Kiss" the new Zach Braff flick hat has gotten really good reviews and is supposed to be all around fabulous. But while the soundtrackis excellent (if you're into that angsty emo I-wear-a-hoodie-with-everything scene) the movie didn't live up to it. Essentially Zach Braff plays a character who is on the verge of 30 and has a now- pregnant girlfriend he can't decide if he wants to marry. What I found to be teh most realistic aspect of Jenna (Jacinda Barrett) is that while at the beginning of the movie she retends she wants the same things as her boyfriend, like not getting married, it turns out that she's just like all the other women out there who want to be married and say otherwise. I mean, I have a few friends who are serious about the staying single for life thing, but most know that if they met Mr. Right they would jump on him. And for good reason, I might add!

But Jenna has gotten herself into quite a predicament. She's almost engaged and pregnant and heading around to different friend's weddings with her boyfriend while he continues to avoid the subject of buying a house and really beginning a new life together. Thus enters Rachel Bilson as Kim, a sophmore at the local University who obviously has a thing for older men who are on the verge of a life crisis. She sits with him up in this treehouse drinking beer and saying that she can't imagine a life with no more surprises (essentially what she means is sex with the same person for the rest of his life). So then he's scared. Yes he has this really great girlfriend who is smart and beautiful and wants to have his kid, but more tempting is this tiny, flighty, don't hold me back my roommate's out for the night college kid.

So he begins a kind of affair with her. Meaning that thy're hanging out without him telling his girlfriend. That he begins lying to this woman he wants to be with. It becomes this twisted trap as his friends either begin to develop relationships or the ones they're in begin to fall apart.

The point of the movie is that nothing is guaranteed. And that, even though you can love someone with what you think is everything you have, you might be able to screw it up in a moment. My boyfriend and friend hated it. Without a doubt, and he spent the rest of saturday humming The Shins and looking "unsatisfied with life". Which was hilarious. But while I definitely didn't like it, I thought there were good scenes. Really good scenes that made me grateful to be in the life i'm in.

Looking Forward To

a beautiful weekend. The weather is supposed to be lovely and the temperature is even better so I hope there are lots of opportunities to hang out outside in the wilds of Manhattan. One of my really good friends is coming to visit in just a couple of weeks and I'm hoping the weather holds out until then. She sent me a few things she wants to do, so I'm trying to organize them. They include:

* Statue Of Liberty
* Ellis Island
* Ground Zero
* Empire State Building


I think I'll add on

* Central Park
* the Staten Island Ferry
* Walk along the Hudson

It's so hard to plan when someone is coming up for just a couple of days. It's like being hit in the face with so many things to do and definitely not enough time. How do you get a true sense of New York without living up here for a while? I don't' care if you decide to hate New York, just give it some time first, right? I have a feeling she'll love it and it's the escape she needs from the South. Sometimes that place still feels extraordinarily oppressive.

Come out and Play Weekend

This weekend is come out and play weekend- comeoutandplay.org
Essentially it's games for grown-ups, like Spy School and Space Invaders and some weird New York ones like Wall Street wannabes. I like the idea that in the midst of our fast paced Manhattan lives we are still seeking the solace of childhood recess. Remember recess? Being let out after lunch and nap (at least in Kindergarten) to run wild for an hour, swing around the tetherball poles, climb up and down the dangerous jungle gyms (at least while I was a kid, everything was made of iron and steel- I'm shocked more children didn't die) and the all inclusive merry-go-round. I remember that was where you wanted to be, hanging out desperately as your forty pound body got swung around faster and faster.

My playground was really fantastic. It was about two acres with plenty of things to do. Since we were a country school we often got to see farm animals that had gotten loose and wandered over, and we even got to play somewhat in the woods (which is where a lot of people had their first kiss, sunlight in between the trees- very romantic). We just had to keep moving. There was only one "fat" girl in my class. You just weren't fat at age 8. Probably because we actually had balanced meals, snacktime and a full hour of being thrown outside unless it was pouring down rain. EVERY DAY.

I feel bad for kids now. They have to deal more with the political side of school. Meaning that a lot of elementary schools only average about 90 minutes of recess or gym time PER WEEK. Can you imagine? No wonder people are becoming fatter. Sure you may think that we're also becoming smarter and that might be true. But in the end it won't matter ifyou're too obese to get out of your house. it makes me think of "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" when Johnny Depp's character finds out his mother will have to be taken out of her bedroom by crane. They end up burning down their house because they simply can't take the ridicule anymore.

So back to Come Out and Play Weekend. Sure you might be one of those super skinny New Yorkers but even if you are it wouldn't hurt to come out, check out the city this weekend. Maybe they'll give you a Hall Pass as a prize or something.

Brother Wolf

Last night I went and saw the best play. It was a reading of play by Preston Lane, who comes from both UNC- Greensboro and Yale. He is a playwright (in case that's not obvious) and from what I can tell he's brilliant. It was a really wonderful play of 5 scenes, 3 sermons and some beautiful Appalachian bluegrass music. The real old kind. The guy who played was Riley Watts (also of Cold Mountain fame) and he was brilliant.

Essentially the play takes place in 1840s and present day Appalachia on the border of NC and TN. I've never been that far but I've heard about those deep mountain people. They're different, and their accent is the closest accent to the Old King's English there ever will be. I imagine that once our culture has fully infiltrated theirs we'll lose a part of our heritage we can never get back. But that's not what this is about. This is about "Beowulf". That's write. I said "Beowulf". Are you seeing the similarities now? Except his name is Brother Wolf and he steps into God's House to protect his family from Gren-dell, the evil demon.

It's passionate, well-articulated and feels authentic. I love the shadow voices and the way they play off each other. From what I saw ofthe press kit the set is excellent. Plain but not too plain. The story of Grendel's Mother and her murder of Mabel Wolf are amazingly done. And the Rattler Man is a character that would easily fulfill Cormac McCarthy's dream antagonist.

The whole thing had a McCarthy feel to it as we are led through the story of love, death and forgiveness in the Christian way. I was riveted by the spirituals and totally absorbed in Brother Wolf's tragic life. I also liked the way so few characters played so many. Preston Lane I actually met on the elevator but was so modest I did not connect it was his play I was watching until I saw his name under the title.

Plumm NYC

Saturday night I went to a club for the first time in probably 2 months. It's not really my scene. I mean, I love dancing, but I can't handle dancing until 4 a.m. and then getting up the next morning. Have to say I'm impressed with all my friends who do it. We were supposed to meet at Plumm for DJ Massi at 11 p.m. on Saturday night. I was there on time and they rolled in at 12:30. During thetime I was there alone I had to buy myself a drink (which I hate doing) and deal with various guys hitting on me because they thought i was alone and lonely. There are big differences between the two, by the way. The funny part was that around 12:30 a.m. I went outside to call my friend C and ask her what the heck was taking so long and there they were, fuming because they couldn't get in. So I endedup being the one to get them all in. It turns out that if you're really nice to bouncers and get in there ridiculously early, they'll let whoever's with you in. Thus I had my cool moment of the night.

Inside at this point what had once been empty was now packed with people, promoters and security. There were about 9 of us and as we moved through the crowd I could feel myself getting more and more sweaty and claustrophobic. Which is why I never shower before going out- i know i"ll want to as soon as I get back in! So I'm usually clean but not squeaky and generally start sweating so by two a.m. I'm not the world's most pleasant sight.

Around 1 this guy actually named Luigi started hitting on three of us- one of C's friend is a model so it shoudln't come as that big of a surprise. What was weird was that I had a blow-pop i'd picked up in teh bathroom and took out of my mouth to take a shot. When I did, Luigi actually grabbed it out of my hand and bit off the rest of it. one of the most disgusting things that has happened to me in a long time. If there are any guys out there reading this, IT'S NOT SEXY. DON'T EVEN BOTHER. So we took the shots then I was dragged to the downstairs area to meet someone's promoter. My goal at all times in a club is to 1) NEVER pay the cover charge and 2) Drink for Free or not at all. I stick to those rules and for the most part they work out well. There are always guys willing to buy you drinks.

At 1:30 I was ready to go. I'd been there for more than two hours, danced, drank and was exhausted. So I started the Good-Bye process. Depending on intoxication levels it gets very complicated but essentially it took about twenty minutes. Fortunately Plumm is located right at the corner of 14th and 8th, which also has the subway station with the ACE L lines available. All quality ways to get home. While I normally don't do that- I would usually take a cab, most of my money had gone to the one drink I had at Plumm that I had to buy.

Rainy Fridays

So all day long we've been lisening to the type of music you might hear in an orthodontist's or maybe in one of those really cheesy medical malpractice law firms. They pick a radio station and let it play no matter what it plays. So besides hearing "Borderline" and "It's Raining Men", I've also heard Gnarls Barkely and Abba. Not that i have a problem with any of those in small amounts, but I HATE listening to it non-stop and over and over. Did I mention radio stations tend to play the same ten to twenty songs over and over? I think it's because they assume that you're driving while you're listnening to the radio and then you get to your location. Surely you're not in the same radio range for so long that you notice the repititive pattern. Oh here it comes. Oh God. That song... "Bad Girl".... oh yikes. I'm sitting here at a computer, entering various data and listening to "Bad Girls".

Friday is kind of a blah day anyway. I arrived at work mostly wet because I looked out the window and again it looked like it WASN'T raining in the courtyard but when I got down to the street it was definitely raining. And I was late and didn't have time to run back upstairs and change. So I came to work anyway and just dealt with it. Which is what I do on a daily basis now. I'm desperately waiting for the rain to end. I feel like last fall wasn't quite so rainy. And on Fridays i always spend most of the day waiting for it to be over, so I can move into weekend mode. By far my favorite. Pull on some comfy clothes, crash in front of the TV, stretch and relax. I love it.

Tonight's supposed to be wonderful anyway because Boyfriend and I are having a stay-in date night. Our first purposeful one in a while. It involves wine and good food that I don't have to pay for. Because I think it's possible i have one of the most generous men in the world. Really. He's incredibly nice. So I have that to look forward too. What I don't have to look forward to is a long after work workout because I was too lazy to drag my butt out of bed this morning. Next week I swear I start going early in the mornings. With all the evening events I'll have going on in my life, it will be a definite plus to get working out in the morning and get it out of the way! I hope this doesn't become a pattern this winter- fighting sleep to get up and get going. It's so hard to convince yourself, even statistically on cold, wet mornings when you're so comfy in bed!

This weekend should be prettier and more fun. There are a ton of options including but not limited to: Responsible Dog Day, Museum of Natural History (one of my favorite city spaces), The Met, Central Park, City Island in the Bronx. It's all very exciting and I love it. Oh yeah and of course clubs on Saturday night with the girls (Boyfriend hates them. And who can blame him?)

The Boots Debate

There is a weird situation with me and rain. When I get up on what is supposed to be or is a rainy morning, I prep for it by getting dressed in my normal clothes, pulling on a raincoat, then checking outside to see how hard it's raining in order to determine if I need to wear rain boots. But I'm on the courtyard side and for whatever reason, unless it's a monsoon, it NEVER looks like it's raining out there. Its like a completely different world from the courtyard to the street (where it could be pouring and I would never have guessed). When I was young I was staying with my aunt one time and remembered a phenomenon that could only be described as amazing. I was in her backyard, playing, when it started to pour. Turning to go back inside I noted that it was pouring as far as the eye could see. My aunt was in the front yard weeding at the time and I assumed I would meet her inside. When I got inside she wasn't there so I went to the front to find out why. She was in the sun in the front yard, weeding. I ran outside and looked around. It was sunny and dry. I told her about it and she didn't believe me so together we went to the backyard. Lo and behold, almost the instant we hit the grass on that side of the house we were in the pouring rain. This kept up for about half an hour. It was one of the most amazing weather events i have ever seen and definitely one of the strangest. I couldn't believe that we were on the dividing line.

That's kind of the way it is here within my apartment. Inside, in the courtyard, it appears to never rain. Yet outside it pours. It's all very confusing. Without fail, I am always surprised when I step out the first glass door and find it pouring outside. Usually it means turning around, going back upstairs and pulling on boots and grabbing an umbrella, then arriving at work soaking wet anyway. Who knows if I will ever learn my lesson. But I have reason for doing it that way. Because my rainboots are knee length theey're a pain in the butt the whole day.When I was in college I wore those adorable LL Bean duck shoes which worked just fine. I even brought them with me when I moved to New York and wore them to work the first rainy day we had. Which was a major mistake. The minute I stepped off a curb I was up to my knees in water, explaining why people here where galoshes no matter what.

Relaxtion Period is Over

and I mean over. All of a sudden the world is in full swing again, including New York. Most companies have stopped their early Friday afternoon closings, people are beginning to close down their Hampton houses, and things are moving a little faster. People are wearing darker colors and walking faster and i heard a lot more horns blaring this morning than I've heard in a while. I also saw a child outside the Preschool across the street throw a tantrum and thought "Ah, normality." It's weird being stuck in NewYork during the summer because it feels like no one else is here. Everything is empty and everyone on vacation. You walk slowly to avoid melting.

Of course now you can pick up the pace again. Christmas is on the horizon so most companies regardless of what they do are preparing for the holidays. Children already have the school holidays marked on their calendar, which include Columbus Day and all the Jewish holidays. I'm tired just thinking about school and don't start for another two weeks. But for me it is the changing of the weather that means the most. I'm actually craving a long walk inCentral Park because it's gorgeous outside. It almosot makes me believe (however briefly) that unemployment wouldn't be that bad.... just kidding. I have too many friends working like three jobs to make their rent here.

I think that's the only downside to actually living in New York. You come here to visit and you think "what a wonderful place", full of things to do and places to go and people to see. And that's completely true. But you can only really do those things if you have the money to do them. And if you're not working. Pretty much leaving the ladies who lunch able to do that. I liked that about Sarah Jessica Parker's character on Sex and the City. She was a writer, meaning she was working but she could also flex her schedule around other things. Whereas I am never able to take a day off because it's beautiful. Very different.

So if you're moving here, DO IT. Because living here is the most amazing part of my life ever. But if you're visiting appreciate all the time you have on your hands to do fun things during the week! Or if you're living here and job hunting appreciate those hours in between interviews when you can visit exhibits at the Met or check out Washington Square park, hear poetry being read at some beatnik coffee house.

Five Year Anniversary

since September 11th changed everything we knew about New York. The city that rested above everyone as a golden world of fantasy literally crumbled before our eyes on television. I spent weeks trying to remember what New York had looked like to me the first time I went, at 17, and couldn't. I couldn't remember the skyline at all and it made me sick to my stomach. Now things have changed so much I can't imagine it without the holes in downtown Manhattan that are the World Trade Towers. At night two glowing posts rise through, faint beams of light stretching what seems to be infinitely towards the sky. To so many people those towers were infinite, their shadow cast over so much of downtown.

Today is gorgeous, which seems especially fitting, since the day this happened was also beautiful. Perfect temperature, blue skies, barely a breeze, warm sun. Everyone was bustling around, getting coffee and papers and preparing for the morning. School children were on their way to school when that sound occurred. I've heard that even now people who were down here for the event jump at sirens and loud noises, even now, when everything is supposed to be so secure. The people who were involved are still trying to adapt to living life outside the Towers.

But I'm happy. This has been the first anniversary I haven't cried for everyone and everything that was lost in those attacks, haven't cried for the injustices that occurred to those of Arabic descent after 9/11 and is still occurring to this day. How my brother and so many others have been sent to participate in a war we should never have been involved in. This year I was calm. I didn't sleep well but have felt okay, have been able to get through my work without much interupption. Someone once told me that I was one of the most sensitive and insensitive people they had ever known. Insensitive (too often!) to the plights of the individual, but overly sensitive to plights that affect large groups of people, such as children in Africa, or civilians in Bosnia. Trees being chopped down in California and Washington. I used to cry driving home from high school through a huge farm that was being turned into a sub-division. Or when the ducks that lived on our river didn't come one year. But my friends talking about their boy troubles or school troubles or life troubles I didn't relate to as well. I'm still not sure if it was a compliment or the worst insult I've ever received.

That's why today is so important to me. I understand that its important to everyone in this country and really all over the world, but to each his own. That which affects our world affects me. That which seems to only affect me does not.

Coney Island

On Sunday I went to Coney Island for the first time. It's hard to believe that I've lived in NYC for over a year and never made it that far into Brooklyn. But I hadn't. So away we went, adventuring to the last stop on the DF/NR train. We got off and there was nothing but boardwalk. Down a few steps and out into the blinding light of the Sun on the water. And that light is always blinding. There is the smell of fried food and sea salt and you can hear the laughter of children and seagulls. It was amazing. I felt alive for the first time in days.

We started heading towards the amusement park, towards the Cyclone and The Wonder Wheel and all the carnies and games that had been there for so many years. It was like stepping back forty years. I expected to see hippies and drifters. And while there were plenty of both they were too modern to keep up my fantasy. I wonder what it must have been like coming to Coney Island on that first Memorial Day in 1920. Stepping out of carriages and jalopies and off the subway (still very new) and entering into an amusement park on the beach, a boardwalk that literally fed into the sea.

Things are older now. You can tell watching the rides that they have been around for the last 86 years. But at the same time nothing has changed. The games are essentially the same, the Wonder Wheel is still using all it's original parts, and you can still get baked clams and hot dogs with your soda. There are families running around, mothers shouting at their babies not to get too close to the water, lifeguards sitting up in the bright orange stands. People fishing off the pier. People sunbathing, listening to the radio, breathing in the air. It feels alive.

We went on the original rides- the Cyclone (1:50 of the worst part of your life), the Wonder Wheel (screeching metal cars swinging you out over the park), the Spook-a-rama (small cars swinging you around in front of "scary" monsters and dead people). We ate until we were sick- sausages and funnel cakes washed down with cold sodas. We played the games- I won a Care Bear shooting water into a hole that propelled a bear upwards. We sat on benches on the boardwalk watching some seagulls fight over a hotdog bun.

We were actually leaving, cutting through a side street when we saw what would by-far be one of the most interesting experiences i've had in New York. A freak show, promising fire eaters and an inflatable boy was only $6. It was continuous, running for nearly 18 hours. We watched in horror as a woman carefully danced with a 13.5 foot albino python, as another ate fire, tribal symbols tattooed across her face as the lit batons swung casually around her. Each act only took a few minutes but was more grotesque than the one before it. We watched the world's youngest female sword swallower as she deftly took on a four foot long, at least five inch thick blade then BENT over to allow someone else to pull it out.

It definitely made the experience seem surreal. And i think that's what makes Coney Island so great is that it feels surreal. You are truly Alice stepping through the Looking Glass.

Labor Day Means Change

I like Labor Day a lot. I'm not really sure why, but I do. Maybe it's because there's something in the air about starting school again or something. I used to love getting ready for school. So yesterday when i was walking around, watching all the children who started school, I had to admit I was a little jealous. I miss the feeling that a new school year brings, with fresh changes. Each year was viewed as a chance to improve upon the last, whether it was improving my math grade (always difficult) or getting my braces off (sophmore year). I used to love arriving to hear the gossip from the summer. Which relationships had broken up, which new teachers were cute, and where we would pick up with our friends during lunch period. When I was at boarding school it became even more meaningful since we were unlikely to see each other during the summers. People went home, began camp, began working, or just hung out but for the most part not in Raleigh.

I wish I could recapture that feeling I got when I was in school. The feeling that you would be able to erase mistakes you had made the year before, maybe forgive a grudge that was getting the best of you. I always loved it when teachers told us that we were beginning with As, we just had to keep them. I remember the first day after school, getting home with just the right amount of homework- enough that you could finish with plenty of time to spare, and yet still feel somewhat accomplished. I used to make a list of goals each year that I wanted to accomplish. Most of the time it had to do with actually paying attention in the classroom (something I always struggle with) then applying old knowledge to new, then being more outgoing. Since I was pretty shy in high school, it was an effort to do all that I did and keep a smiling face.

Could we recapture that emphasis on success that we had going for us in school? All the way through we were encouraged, told that we would grow up to great things, that we would make our parents proud. I have to question if any of us were able to do that. I wonder where everyone in my class is now. Some of them I still keep in touch with, writing letters and emailing back and forth, being a part of. But for the most part I have no idea what happened to the 58 girls that I graduated with. I don't know who's already married with children, who's really building a career, whos' still just hanging out, maybe waiting tables while working on their graduate degree.

Maybe I'll take this as a time to have a fresh start, to become more energized about my life and what can be accomplished. New York definitely has that energy. It's just up to me to capture it.

We are Moving Towards Fall

The latest homeless man sleeping around the corner from my office was in a box today. That's how I can tell it's starting to turn towards fall. When the homeless begin being a little more careful about what they sleep on or in. He's new. He began sleeping out there last week and I guess he just became homeless because he was clean-cut and healthy looking. Now it's starting to look like he hasn't showered and that maybe he's been out there a while. But I know the truth. That he's probably just been made homeless.

There are other signs, too. Little things that are going on that you probably wouldn't even notice if you weren't looking for them. Like the pool in the dog run has been turned upside down. And people at the gym are starting to blow dry their hair instead of leaving with it wet. I always feel mixed up this time of year. I love fall, it's one of my favorite seasons. Yet I don't like the idea of shorter days and longer nights. Of freezing on the way out to bars and clubs. Having to use coat checks and watching frosty breath in the air. Putting away dresses nad t-shirts because it's too cold. On the other hand, I feel more alive during the winter. I'm not sure why. Something about the cold air wakes me up, helps me get going. I sleep better and feel better overall.

I wonder what will happen this winter. If I'll survive another New York winter. If I'll be able to deal with below freezing temperatures and heavy coats. I feel ready. Maybe.