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July 25, 2002
Their doin' Geneology Well, my
Their doin' Geneology
Well, my brilliant future B-i-L has just finished one of his brainchildren. As mentioned in his blog, it seems that blogging is slowly becoming a movement. It's spreading person by enthused person. Stepan has just finished a website dedicated to tracking each blog's geneology. The idea is that a person usually starts a blog because he or she is inspired to do so by the enjoyment they get from reading someone else's blog. So each blog has a parent and may even have siblings and children and grandchildren and so on. It's an interesting idea...This particular blog already has a pretty detailed pedigree. So if you have a blog, register at www.blogtree.com...especially if you have a blog from reading this one. :-) I know I have a coupla kids out there! A quirky bit to this blog's pedigree. My mom is my daughter in blog world. Weird.
Posted by mermu at 01:34 AM | Comments (3)
Heartbeat As I was
Heartbeat
As I was writing the previous entry I remember one of Shakespeare's more known sonnets: "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state". It got me thinking about Shakespeare's sonnets. There are so many good ones. Even the ones that you don't have to learn in high school are worth taking a look at. It is a truly gifted writer whose works are still prevalent and profound years after they were written. Shakespeare is the king of being timeless. I remember when I studied at the Oxford School of Drama, we had to choose a Sonnet to recite for class. Though we boistrous Americans may have wanted to do scenes and show our prowess with Shrew, or Lear, or Hamlet, the Professor was firm. He was used to boistrous Americans. You must learn to walk before you can run. It was the most interesting thing we did that season. And the professor was right. I think the sonnets are sometimes neglected. Hmm...I'll have to do something about that.
The Sonnet I recited for that assignment:
Sonnet 3
Look in thy glass and tell the the face thou viewest
Now is the time that face should form another,
Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,
Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.
For where is she so fair whose uneared womb
Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?
Or who is he so fond will be the tomb
Of his self-love, to stop posterity?
Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee
Calls back the lovely April of her prime.
So though through windows of thine age shalt see,
Despite wrinkles, this thy golden time.
But if thou live, remembered not to be,
Die single, and thine image dies with thee.
A better ad for procreation I will never see. Now here is my favorite of his sonnets. Everybody knows it thanks to Sting but it's worth a revisit:
Sonnet 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun,
Coral is far more red than her lips' red
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun,
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks.
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by Heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Thank you William, Willie, Will, Bill. Dead a few hundred years and still we listen.
Posted by mermu at 01:26 AM | Comments (0)
New York Moments Over the
New York Moments
Over the last few weeks two events occurred that were milestones of my "New Yorker-ness". First, I had my first ride, ever, in a rickshaw. I have recently seen the rickshaw drivers making their way through the streets of Manhattan but never ventured onto one. I just took for granted they would be too expensive an extravagance for poor, struggling artist me. I was walking up 6th avenue toward a meeting at Serena when I realized I was going to be about 5 minutes late. I decided to splurge on a taxi but couldn't get one. I must have looked frustrated. After not catching a cab for the 2nd traffic light I noticed there were two rickshaws on the street almost right in front of me. I know it's hard to imagine but I didn't even see them until I thought I might need one. The closest driver asked me if I wanted a ride. He was a strapping young man. His name was Dani. He looked the epitome of the all-American boy. Blond hair, blue eyes, healthy. This was ironic as he was from Estonia. He was strikingly handsome, briefly suspended in that misty period between being a boy and a man. I warily asked him how much it would cost me. He flashed me a guileless smile and said, "Five dollars. You are my first customer of the day and I always give a good deal to my first customer." I decided I could handle a fiver, got in the rickshaw and proceeded to savor the odd sensation of being carried about and driven on the street in an open air vehicle. It was a lovely ride. It made the heavy, heated air less heavy. I so enjoyed watching the people on the streets, in the cars and the general life of the city unfold before me on my gentle ride to Serena. And it was peculiar to enjoy these sensations whilst I was staring at the back of this boy/man from Estonia. I noticed he had an odd "nut" inside his right calf. Well, it looked like a nut. I wondered what it was, hoped it was nothing, and imagined it was some sort of peculiar unique dimple. When I got off the rickshaw I gave the man his fare and a small tip. It was the best $6 I've spent in a long time.
I've seen the Angel Man
There is a man here in the city. I think he is homeless. He is known mostly by word of mouth but I also think there are occasional slice-of-life pieces done about him on TV documentaries and news shows. He has long, luscious though unkempt, black hair. He looks to be of Asian descent. The interesting thing about this man, this New York legend, is that he walks about town in nothing but white trunks and a pair of human-size full-feathered and dusty wings. I saw him in person for the first time yesterday as I was running an errand for one of my current jobs. It was like seeing somebody famous. As my Uncle Pat might put it, seeing this bird was a lifer. It was an exciting moment in an otherwise dreary day. I couldn't help but smile at this character who is so unique and playful and who approaches life with a sense of humor, joy and wonderment that belies his outcast state. The moment was a little bittersweet. It's entirely possible this angel, dirty and ruffled from a life on the street, might be hungry or imprisoned in a drugged stupor or worse. I hope not. At any rate, I applaud his uniqueness and hope it stems from something holy rather than loneliness.
Posted by mermu at 12:28 AM | Comments (2)
July 19, 2002
On the Way Home On
On the Way Home
On the way home from seeing Love, Janis at the Village Theatre I found myself in the Times Square subway with my cd player on, headphones in, and walking my rushed "I've got places to go" New York walk when I had to pause as there was an old man with a cane whose rhythm was significantly slower than mine. I love these old men and women slowly trudging their way through this harsh pedestrian city, making their way bit by bit, inch by inch like aged turtles amidst a crowd of hares. I slowed my pace immediately and followed the man with the cane. It was a nice respite from my rushedness. I feel protective of these people who have to climb the stairs one by one when everybody around them is so frenzied. I get the feeling that the rushers could run them over with out blinking an eye and not even really notice it. Or in their age and weariness they might accidentally trip and be left to suffer. So for 50 paces I walked leisurely behind this old man wearing a white "cuban" shirt using a cane and a carrying a plastic bag full of something I couldn't guess. I saw the subway through a slower person's eyes. Through an older persons eyes. Thank you old man, for the brief respite.
Posted by mermu at 11:10 AM | Comments (0)
Another Toy Story One of
Another Toy Story
One of the movies I watched for my footage search was the old Richard Pryor/ Jackie Gleason movie "The Toy". In watching it I noticed how much the young boy looked like a young Kirk Cameron. I wondered if maybe it was Kirk Cameron and how amazing would it be to act in a movie with Richard Pryor and Jackie Gleason. A short trip through IMDB Database told me it wasn't Kirk Cameron but Scott Schwartz. He did a few smaller parts in movies after The Toy but eventually moved into the "adult film" genre. I couldn't believe it. This sweet looking little boy grew up to be a porn star. The rough road of a child actor I guess. How sad.
I mentioned this to a friend at work. So we are now ordering one of his "adult Movies" from the video store. Is this a sign that NY is corrupting me? Ah well. Curiosity killed the cat I suppose....Meow.
Posted by mermu at 10:59 AM | Comments (1)
July 18, 2002
Nudity and Family Planning
Nudity and Family Planning
Well I had a super duper cultural night. Through TDF I got my friends Hiedi, Kambri, 3 of Kambri's friends and myself tickets to see The Full Monty. It was so funny. We laughed out loud through most of the show, hooping and hollering for these guys from buffalo who bared it all for a chance to have a decent job after being out of work for almost 2 years. Note to all you guys out there...It wasn't the super buffed up cowboys that all the women were talking about as they walked out of the theatre. They were all charmed by the one with the bulbous belly. btw, this is a fabulous show and one of my favorite things on Broadway right now. If you get a chance to see it you should run to the ticket booth. The great thing about this show is that it is clever, fun and it has mass appeal. So if you think of theatre as dull and no fun, this will enlighten you.
After the "theatuh" I went home and watched a movie that I snuck out of Arnold McGrath. It was one we rented looking for footage. "I Am Sam", a story about a retarded man who fathers a child and ends up raising her alone. When the little girl, Lucy, is 7 the Childhood Family Services steps in and struggles to take the girl away from her father. This movie was so good. Sean Penn was amazing and Michelle Pfieffer was good too. There is just no way to make that woman ugly. No way at all. This movie does it's best to give a realistic portrayal of a retarded man trying to be a father. At one point I thought viciously about the injustice of the system; at the next I was sure that separation might be the best thing for the child. This movie does a good job at revealing the shoddy way "smart" parents treat their kids everyday. They get away with it because they are so "stressed" and, well, they are "smart". The movie also got me thinking about what makes a good movie. I am sure there are many things and not all conditions apply to all movies. There are no rules only guidelines. I would have to say one of them for me is when you know you are at the end of the movie and you make a silent plea to the camera to stay focused. Don't dissolve to credits. Even though the story is over I want to know what happens in these characters lives next. When a movie is over and I am not ready to leave that world I know I have seen a good one.
Posted by mermu at 12:56 PM | Comments (0)
July 17, 2002
Family Time I am
Family Time
I am doing a lot of research at my current advertising gig. Basically I have to fast forward through alot of movies looking for footage of mothers and children spending quality time together. Sadly, about 80% of this time is associated with food. I wonder, is this an accurate representation of ways in which a mother spends time with her children? A father and his time? How sad if this is true and no wonder that obesity is such an overwhelming problem in this country.
Posted by mermu at 12:40 PM | Comments (3)
July 15, 2002
I find it really interesting
I find it really interesting that the Repubs are all, "let bygones be bygones" on the gross improprieties of our Commander-in-Thief with regard to his history with the SEC. They say this controversy interferes with his and their ability to govern. I cry fie! on these bulbous hypocrites. Where was all this concern for government welfare during the 8 years of Clinton's tenure? He withstood far more vitriolic criticism on Whitewater, came out of it unscathed and managed to help maintain a steady, though precarious armistice in the middle east, balance the federal budget for the first time in decades, and manage a healthy economy. The difference between the Whitewater scandal and the Bush's scandalous behaviour with the SEC is that Bush's actions directly affect his ability to govern. Bush was caught with his hand in the cookie jar and now he is responsible for protecting it? I don't think so. I hope the Dems continue to grow a backbone and keep on top of this. Somebody has to watch these things while the Bush is in the China Shop.
Posted by mermu at 11:40 AM | Comments (11)
Okay, it's late so just
Okay, it's late so just one more bit and then it's bedtime. My friend and coworker who I was weirdly "six-degree separated" from before I even met him had a party at his apartment in Queens. It was a rooftop blowout with another gorgeous view of NYC. We had a blast although I am almost positive I was the oldest person there by at least a couple of years. It's funny how young 24 seems when one is not...24. But we had a great time. Thanks to Andy and his roommates Jason, and Chris. You guys give great party.
Posted by mermu at 03:04 AM | Comments (0)
Something's A Loft I
Something's A Loft
I have decided to partake of a typical New Yorkers favorite hobby; apartment hunting. This little distraction has been a long time in coming. For weeks now I have religiously perused Craig's List for the latest great deals in the area. The problem has been I am a little vague on all areas that aren't Weehawken, and Manhattan. I know nothing about Queens and Brooklyn but I am very curious. When I am ready to move I will most likely move to either Queens or Brooklyn. I want to be able to take the subway anywhere. And if I need to take a cab home it would be nice if it cost less than $30 plus toll and tip. So last Thursday I decided to bite the bullet. I was tired as I had been up all night before at the Amma-fest but I was in amazingly good spirits and looked forward to the adventure. And an adventure it was.
I emailed a guy, "sebastian" whose real name is Mike, about a loft he had available in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for the low low price of $1600. It was a two bedroom and that is a pretty good price for a loft. So that would make rent $800/ month per roommate. It might hurt a little but still it was very doable. I could see the apartment that night. After work I made a hasty stop to Virgin Records for a cd with Starland Vocal Band's "Afternoon Delight" and then I was off on the "L" to Williamsburg. This loft was on the 7th stop in Brooklyn- Jefferson Avenue. That seemed a little far out from Manhattan to be considered Williamsburg but that was okay. I wasn't invested in this place; I was simply on an adventure. So I get off the subway at Jeffferson which only took about 20 minutes from Union Square. Not bad at all. When I emerge from the depths, I find myself in the middle of a very industrial area. Lots of warehouses. I can see no evidence of the quaint little shops and restaurants that most people associate with Williamsburg. I remind myself that I am looking at a loft and that of course it would be in the industrial part of town. It's still daylight so what could happen?
As I follow the directions given me by "sebastian whose real name is Mike" I say a silent thank you that I had the forethought to give two people the name of the person I was meeting and the address. That way if the worst happened the police would know where to start. I walk down to the corner and take a left. One block more and then a right. I notice there is a lot of graffiti on the buildings and broken glass on the sidewalk. As I walk down the next street I notice two distinct things. The first is a huge building with a sign written partly in Chinese and partly in English, "Chinese Produce Distributors". Next to the sign I could see through a gate which opened into the back of the building. Through this gate I could see no evidence whatsoever of produce distribution. I did see rows upon rows of the shells of banged and beat up cars. Cars which were stacked upon each other like Legos in towers that were striving to reach the sky. I immediately think, "Hmm. I could move into a loft and have the Chinese Mafia as neighbors." And still I trudge on towards the second thing I notice- a man standing on the passenger side of his parked car. He is leaning inside the car from the waist up. The hood is up and there are cables connecting the car to a van in front of it. I notice that the window through which the man is leaning is not rolled down it is cracked open and there are broken glass pebbles on the ground. (It doesn't occur to me until I am safely ensconced in my own abode that the car might not have actually belonged to the guy that was halfway inside it.) Another dubious sign of the neighborhood. I finally get to the door of my potential new loft. There is a buzzer system on the the side of the door, but the door is so loosely associated with the building that a buzzer system hardly seems necessary. Still, I go through the ritual of ringing the buzzer and waiting for the familiar buzz of permission to enter. I walk up the four floors and into the cutest little loft apartment a girl could hope for. One wall was waist-level to ceiling windows with a gorgeous view of the city I love so much. The ceiling was at least 15 feet up. Mike, whose email name is sebastian, formed the space from a whole in the wall. He built two bedrooms with lofts big enough to hold queen size beds. There was a simple bathroom, an open living area/kitchen and those gorgeous windows. There was an aluminum roof from the next-door building that could be accessed one floor down from the cutest little loft ever. I walked back toward the subway determined to find a way to put myself and my beloved cat into this loft.
I decided to walk around the area and get a feel for the neighborhood. As I found my way to the subway the Chinese Mafia hangout and the vandalized car didn't seem near as daunting as my arrival trip. I met a lovely girl who was walking out of the subway who graciously showed me where the big grocery store was as she was walking home. The street on which we walked had a partially constructed park on one side and rows upon rows of dilapidated brownstones. Puerto Rican flags flew ouside a couple of the windows and my original unease returned. I couldn't help but think of the shameful way a select group of Puerto Ricans acted at the P.R. Day parade a few years back. Still I wanted to see the grocery store. There were a number of men working on their cars on this block. Noone was overly friendly nor were they belligerent. The nice girl crossed the street to go to her house as I could see the grocery store a half block up.
As I continued my walk I barely noticed a man facing a big tree near the sidewalk. His back was to me and I didn't take much notice until I got closer. As he turned away from the tree, he almost ran into me. He was zipping up his pants; he had been, er, relieving himself. When he noticed me, before actually running into me, he said something in Spanish and then mumbled a sheepish, "Sorry". At least he was polite. In the end, I decided to keep looking. I have just barely taken up my new hobby. I am not about to muddy it up by actually moving. That loft was gorgeous though.
It's So Big!
Another reason I am loathe to move: the closet is finally under way. That's right. My stuff is once again cluttering up the living room. The difference is this time there is a skeleton of a closet in my room and the door is no longer from the living room but from the hallway. The carpenter should be finished by Wednesday! Oh Joy! Oh Rapture! I am thrilled. And this closet is really huge too. I am so looking forward to taking advantage of my new stowage factor.
Posted by mermu at 01:08 AM | Comments (2)
The rest of my stay
The rest of my stay at the SVA went smoothly. I was glad to get home though. Too much living inside the looking glass can get to a person even when it is in an environment as lovely as the SVA. Work has been keeping me really busy. Last week and next I will be working five whole days a week. That doesn't leave much time for my business or other endeavors. I will just have to make it work. It will be worth it as I have a plane trip scheduled for the first week in August and my cousin is coming the next week.
On Tuesday I went to the free screening of my friends, Lisa and Stephen's, movie. Stephen produced and Lisa had a small part in it. It was a really great movie. I have seen this movie in various states of completion, from the rough cuts, to the first final cut without light tweaking and then finally the finished product. It was such an amazing journey that Stephen and his company took with this movie. I could really see the growth process from start to finish. It's a good movie. It stars newcomer Jonathon Tucker and Jennifer Tilly and David Straitharn. I hope they sell it to a distributor. It deserves to be seen. But even more than that, these filmmakers deserve to make another film. This one was good but I get the impression that the next one they do will be amazing.
Ammachi Returns
Last year, before the blog I went to this thing called Debi Bava. My friend Julia's guru comes in town and there is a big celebration and program that culminates in this last day of celebration/ ceremony called Debi Bava. The guru, Amma, blesses everyone who so chooses with a hug and a hershey's kiss. I had such a good time last year (Indeed, it is the subject of one of those articles I occasionally write about that I hope will one day be published.) that I decided to go back and do the same thing again. I got there at about 10pm and stayed until 6:30 a.m. I really appreciate the way this ceremony looks at spirituality. It is so inward. So deep and quiet and soul searching. Meditating is truly an important thing. While sitting onstage near Amma I was able to meditate and feel closer to God than I have in a long time. I also got my hug from Amma. It was funny. While I was waiting my mind was kind of wandering. I was looking at handsome men, and also wondering if I were as strong as Amma in ways but didn't know it as I have never tapped into that. I wondered if maybe I should give her my strength as she had been hugging and blessing people all night. When I got to her, she hugged me not once but twice. The first time she hugged me she was giggling and saying in my ear, "no, no, no, no, no, no"..then she pulled me away to look in my eyes and laugh and then she hugged me again and said, "my daughter, my daughter, my daughter". The whole episode cracks me up. And she's right I think. I was having delusions of grandeur and getting so caught up in something that was nothing and she helped me to laugh at myself. I think I need to learn to do that more often.
As far as the 'amma movement' goes, I don't know. There are so many people who grapple onto the cultish nature of it all and that leaves me cold. But I do respect this woman who is doing so much for humanity. She gave me a place to be spiritual when my own religion chooses not to do so. I think I need to talk to a priest. I need to fight for this cause of mine. These old men would rather see our religion die a cold death than relinquish their power over it. I bought an aum pendant which I am currently wearing. I don't know if it's mystic or anything. All I can say is that I am fascinated by it.
Posted by mermu at 12:28 AM | Comments (0)
That Saturday night I entertained
That Saturday night I entertained a "gentleman caller" at the SVA. It was fun. Leftovers and anthologies of The Beatles and Nina Simone. We had fun. He's a really nice guy. Witty and intelligent. He is also a person whom I never thought I would be caught dead befriending. His employer is an insurance company. An INSURANCE guy. He works IT but still it's the "big machine". Perhaps I am mellowing as I age.
Caveat: Mom, don't get your hopes up, this is just a friend.
Posted by mermu at 12:05 AM | Comments (0)
July 14, 2002
Well, it's Sunday. I have
Well, it's Sunday. I have had a relaxing and fun weekend. Things feel a little upside down right now. While I don't feel the enormous pressure of Uranus in Retrograde or anything, I do feel that things are a bit topsy turvy. Maybe it's a sensory overload. So many things to think about, so many things to do...and so many distractions. I definitely need to take some time to "get back to 1". So this is the life of my days...at least for the last week and a half.
I saw Fireworks
Despite a hot apartment, I managed to have a really cool July 4 party. Thanks to the laidback cat owners who gave me permission to do so. It started out to be a bit dodgy. The a/c went out and I valiantly fought the heat for the first hour and a half or so. It was the hottest day in NY so far. Of course the a/c would go out on this day and of course it would be a holiday when no one would come out and fix it. The doorman said it was most likely as simple as the flick of a switch to fix but an appropriately licensed person must be the flicker. It's funny. After the first hour and a half I sort of started to embrace, even crave the heat. Once you give yourself up to it, that wet sweatiness and flushed skin sort of feels good. The day became a sort of homage to my Texas roots. It's so hot you could fry an egg on the sidewalk.
In addition to the a/c dilemma, my Fourth of July Festivities were further threatened by a small (small as in sort of big) kitchen fire. I had put the potatoes for my Grandma's Potato Salad to boil. I also decided to treat myself to a granola cereal breakfast before I got started with the duties of hosting a party; making Sangria, making the Shopska salad, the potato salad, preparing the meat, etc. etc. etc. So while the potatoes were boiling I made my cereal and parked myself on the stool in the bedroom to watch a little cable. Cable is a real treat to me as I don't have it in my house. At my house, it's a treat to get all the local channels at the same time and without those "ghosts". The cable in the Swanky Village Apt was out in living area so I had to go to the bedroom. Now that I think about it, Swanky Village Apt seemed a little like it was falling apart. No cable in the living room, no a/c, they were painting the doors; it was a very high maintenance weekend. But back to the fires at hand.
I finished my cereal and dutifully went to put my dish in the sink. My attention was immediately caught by small flames emerging from my potatoes! This can NOT be. So I run to the stove to survey the situation thinking "oh my God. Oh My God. Oh My God" alternately with "Don't panic. Don't panic. DON'T PANIC." I notice that it is not my lovely potatoes that are on fire but the coffee pot inadvertantly sitting on the oven behind the pot of potatoes. This is small consolation as the stove is still on fire. I turn off the burner and move the potatoes and then feverishly raid the cabinets for salt or baking soda. Garlic salt, Virgin olive oil, some kind of gourmet paste, pepper, WHERE IS THE FUCKING SALT? I find no baking soda whatsoever and the only salt I can scrounge up is the rock salt kind that comes in it's own grinder. After momentarily picturing myself "grinding" the fire out, I discard the salt and get the dish towel that is next to the stove thinking that I will try to smother the fire. The only thing I know not to do is to douse a grease fire with water. Now, I know there was no grease, but it was a stove and there was all this melting plastic so water was not an option. The dish towel was working sort of. The fire was shrinking but it still wasn't out. I decided I needed more power. With no thought to my personal comfort for the next few days, I took this really scrumptious luxurious bathsheet that I had been using as a towel and completely smothered the coffee pot and thus, doused the flames once and for all. At this point, the apartment started smelling like smoke and I was concerned for both the cats and myself. I was also worried I would hear the whirr of a fire engine's sirens and the neighbors would come knocking and I would be found out and these people would never let me take care of their cats again. And I would be extremely embarassed. So I opened all the windows. This turned out to be a blessing as the a/c-less apartment was really hot and the fans weren't doing it. I think perhaps my little fire was a blessing in disguise. I now had a lovely cross breeze. I wrap the offending coffee pot-melt in the luxurious bath sheet and move it to the window thinking how smart I am to put it near the fresh air. How dumb am I!!? This immediately creates the most noxious cross-breeze imaginable. Plan B is taking the luxurious bath sheet filled coffee-pot-melt to the shower. I set the bundle on the floor and douse it with cold water. Seconds later I hear the glass crack, but the flames are doused and everyone is alive. I was very lucky. Upon surveying the area there was little or no damage to anything other than the coffee pot and luxurious bath sheet. The melted plastic came off the cooled stove easily and I was able to put the potatoes back on and continue my prep for the festivities.
The rest of the prep went without a hitch. I had a lovely group of people enjoying the day with me. The food was great, even the potato salad. The gas grill was a cinch to work, no fussy mess with charcoal briquets. We chatted on the deck and drank and ate and generally had a grand ole time. God seemed to want to make amends to me for scaring the life out of me with a the kitchen fire earlier. Though we couldn't see the Hudson River fireworks due to a huge building obstructing the view, a little determination, investigation, and crawl through an open window got us all onto the roof of the building for a spectacular view of the Macy's Fireworks on the East River. The event was so inspiring we raised our slightly inebriated voices in rousing renditions of our favorite patriotic songs. I'm always so proud to know the words to the National Anthem, even though I shouldn't be. It should be a given. I am an American, I should know them. But so many American's don't and thus it is an accomplishment of which to be proud. In any event, I feel so blessed to not have burnt anything or anybody down this day and to be alive and a citizen in a nation where everyone is so blessed.
Posted by mermu at 11:15 PM | Comments (1)
July 04, 2002
Happy Independence Day everyone! Oh
Happy Independence Day everyone!
Oh I'm proud to be an American (even though Jr. slinked his way into the white house)
Where at least I know I'm free (despite Tom Ridge's efforts)
And I won't forget the men (and women) who died
Who gave this right to me
And I gladly stand up next to you (w/o regard to race, creed, gender, or sexual orientation and YES, political affiliation)
And defend her still today (not just from foriegn enemies, but also from those would desecrate the foundation of freedom for their personal or political gains)
Cause there ain't no doubt I love this land
God (who is most likely a she and wouldn't mind if girls wanted to be priests) bless the USA
:-)
Posted by mermu at 10:22 AM | Comments (2)
Another Tex in the
Another Tex in the City Success
We had our fourth TITC party and it was a rousing success. I must have had my juju going because not one but five guys mentioned how sexy and cute I was. I couldn't help but think the clientele we are cultivating is getting classier and classier. Maybe it's my highlights and I do now appeal to men who like blondes, redheads, and brunettes. We really did have a good time last night. This party thing is working out really well so far I must say. I think we did a rousing job for the bar too. After our event it was significantly emptier. Alas, we are still waiting for Ann Richards.
Posted by mermu at 10:15 AM | Comments (1)
Sweaty Village Apartment Well, I
Sweaty Village Apartment
Well, I am at the "swanky village apartment" taking care of three really cool cats. Unfortunately, I am not. Although swanky, this apartment is not immune to the overwhelming demand for a/c this weekend. As I mentioned earlier it is hooootttttt!. The a/c went bust sometime yesterday afternoon. The fans are running but no a/c. And it's July 4 and I have more pressing things to worry about. For instance:
How do I make potato and jello salad?
Is the grocery store down the street going to be open?
Do I bite the bullet and make sangria too? (Sangria would be lovely today)
Is anybody going to come to my grilling party?
Do I even know how to grill?
Very pressing problems indeed. I am so glad I am from Texas and grew up unpampered else the heat would really get me down. Mom. Dad. Thanks for not having much money when I grew up. It's because of this that today is bearable. Well, aside from my naturally sunny personality.
Posted by mermu at 10:11 AM | Comments (0)
July 02, 2002
It's so HHHHHOttttttt. and I
It's so HHHHHOttttttt. and I am restless. Sometimes I feel...Sometimes I just feel....Sometimes I feel just like a cat on a hot tin roof.
Posted by mermu at 11:13 PM | Comments (0)
Well. There is nothing like
Well. There is nothing like a little discension to get the blog rolling. Seven comments in one day may be a record for me. Thanks to everybody for putting their two cents in.
Being a Billionaire is Tough
My friend Hiedi invited me to go see a comedy show at Don't Tell Mama's. It's supposed to be really funny she says. And there is a special guest: Mark Cuban and did I know who that was. I had to think a minute. I know that name..and then it hit me. Dallas Mavericks. Mark Cuban. Texan. Tex in the City!!! I had actually read an article about Mark in Fortune or Worth magazine about a year and a half ago. I can't honestly remember which. It was a cover story which talked about his past success with Broadcast.com, the Mavericks and his "next big thing". Ironically, this magazine rested on the bottom shelf of my bathroom shelf unit for months. Then it moved to my living room shelf for another series of months. I read the cover article which was really interesting and most of the rest of the mag which wasn't bad either. I was just loathe to recycle it as it had a Texan (though a transplant) on the cover. Some magazines I actually take the time to go through and pull out pertinent articles I may need to reference later on. I am particularly diligent in my dossier on Bush. I want to be prepared come election time and it's only 856 days away. Other magazines I just read and recycle. Then there are those I just think I should read and never get around to. A few months ago my Texas sentimentality was lost, perhaps in a post 9-11 blitz, as I purged my ever-growing stack of magazines. What's the difference I thought? I have already read the article and besides, it's not like I'd ever actually meet the guy. God is such a hoot.
So Mark Cuban was a special guest at a comedy show called "shushybush" which was created by a woman named Collette Hawley. What is this? Is Mark Cuban venturing into comedy? It wasn't unheard of. If Michael Jordan can try baseball; why can't a billionaire go for comedy. Thinking I would be an idiot not to go as my business is about Texans in New York I resolved to not only go to the event but to (gulp) introduce myself and present him with a hand written invite to a TITC event. Fortunately, Kambri felt like going too. So Hiedi, Kambri and I ventured out to "ShushyBush".
It was really funny. In fact, it was the funniest comedy show I had been to ever. But now that I think about it, I was also tipsier than I usually am at those sorts of things as I had two glasses of wine at dinner before the show. Collette was funny and her other comedian guests were funny and then up goes Mark Cuban to the stage. He had the gall to just hang out at a table near ours during the show. I didn't think billionaires could hang. What about their posses? It was after all a small place. The exchange between Mark and Collette was hysterical. Turns out that Collette had dated the man before he became a successful entreprenuer...in college. Their reminiscences were really funny. They hadn't really seen each other for twenty years. I am guessing Collette just emailed him and asked him to do the show and he did. It was a great show and I couldn't help but breath a sigh of relief that we weren't stuck watching a novice billionaire-turned-comic in his coming out party. And besides who wouldn't like a guy who would fly his jet out to NYC to be a guest on a show for about 50 people?
After the show Hiedi, Kambri, and I were in great spirits both literally and figuratively. It was crunch time. Time to present our lovely and painstakingly printed TITC card with a special handwritten note. We busied ourselves in the bathroom. A girl's gotta go to the bathroom after all and there was a mandatory two drink minimum during the show. After our ablutions, we made our way outside the bar thinking we may have missed our moment. We didn't see either Collette or Mark. Ah well, we are wusses and bladder beats business in a sort of entreprenuerial "rocks, paper, scissors". What can you do?
To be honest I am not a really great schmoozer. I love to entertain. I love meeting people and I am genuinely curious about everything but I am not the person who can pull off faking it and money makes me nervous. Rich and famous people make me nervous. I had better get over that real soon. I am cursed with eyes that really don't lie and a passion about most things that demands a certain amount of honesty. I blame my mother and that stupid "hold out your tongue if there's bubbles on it your lying" trick. It had nothing to do with the bubbles. I know that now, but still it's too late. I am always worrying about the bubbles when I am lying or I percieve that people think I might be lying and it shows. So when I meet people who are famous or influential or whatever I feel like they immediately think they have one over on me because they percieve I want something. Truthfully, maybe I do want something...maybe... so I would be lying to imply I absolutely didn't. But I am not willing to suck up to anybody or lie. I do have a certain amount of honor. I am currently trying to focus on charm instead of schmoozing. :-)
All this musing is going through my head as we emerge from Don't Tell Mama's and see Mark and a few other people standing outside chatting. Kambri busies herself on the cell phone. I am trying to steel myself to talk to this person. I mean it's only money right. It's not like he's the doorman at Rockefeller Center and can get us at the front of the Destiny's Child stage and the Christmas Tree during the lighting. Fortunately Hiedi, who has admired Mark's entreprenuership for a long time is more brazen in this area than I. She introduces herself, after which I do the same and give over our TITC invite. Mark was actually great about it. He was congenial and opened the invite and read it right there. He was laidback and personable and not at all stand-offish. He even invited us to join him and his group for drinks across the street. After a brief moment, we decided we could.
And the rest as they say is history. We actually met some really fascinating people that night. The guest comics, Hugh Fink who is a writer for SNL and Jonathan Corbett who is a comic who plays all over the city, were there too and very entertaining. There was Geoff and Linda, Collette and Comedy producer Jeff Singer, and later, some guy with shiny shoes and his friends. We had a great time just hanging out. A few hours and another bar later the party was still going on. I imagine Mark is the most pleasant billionaire a person could meet. He really wasn't at all pretentious- just fun-loving and affable. It was almost disappointing. There were no scenes, no condescension, no temper tantrums, no blatant disregard for humanity. I mean come on! What's a billionaire for if not to shock you?
In the sun rise hours of the next morning, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the guy though. I was exhausted and looking forward to catching up on sleep for the next few days. Mark would have no such opportunity I imagined. He mentioned in the show the night before he was scheduled to take a trip to Las Vegas. Something about an appearance at a party given by some guy named Shaq in honor of that Smith guy who plays football for the Cowboys. Poor Mark. A billionaire's job is never done.
Posted by mermu at 03:05 AM | Comments (1)
July 01, 2002
Thanks for the Memories I
Thanks for the Memories
I just heard on the telly that Rosemary Clooney has passed away. She had lung cancer. While I have never seen her in person, I have been a fan since seeing "White Christmas". So if you get a chance today, raise a glass, light a candle, or sing a silent goodbye to the girl who in my mind will always have "stars in her eyes".
Posted by mermu at 04:00 AM | Comments (0)
Okay. It's late and I
Okay. It's late and I have to get this Avocado Butter out of my color treated hair. I hate to leave on such a contentious entry so I will include a teaser for the next. Some billionaires are pretty cool, laidback people. The upper floors of the Trump Towers have an amazing view of Central Park and the rest of Uptown. Go Mavs!
Posted by mermu at 03:26 AM | Comments (3)
Censorship and a Family Tiff
Censorship and a Family Tiff
Okay. This isn't a family tiff but I got a little pissed and did censor some comments. I have now decided that perhaps censorship is the wrong way to go. So the scoop is...
On June 10, I wrote an entry entitled Blessings of an Appendectomy. I mentioned my Aunt Margaret's emergency surgery that precluded her from making her scheduled trip to NYC and bringing my cousin Katherine who is really Catherine. I got a coupla comments; one from my Uncle Pat who was curious about Urinetown (this comment was regrettably lost in the quagmire but not before I responded to his query in a personal email) and two comments from my cousin Courtney. I didn't even know that Courtney read the blog; I was pleased to see that she did and was excited about hearing from her...until I read the comments. They are as follows:
Sorry, Meredith, but I couldn't stop myself from being critical, meticulous, and grammatical when I realized that you do not know (or accidently mistyped!) how to spell your cousin's name. Catherine Irene is spelled with a "C" and not a "K." I hope that I will always be Courtney to you and not Kourtney.
much luv, Courtney
Hmm. Not quite what I expected, but that particular side of my family is famous for their zealousness in correcting others' mistakes. This is a trait I used to think was a sign of intelligence when I was young but have later come to believe is mere condescension and more than a little rude. As if that weren't enough, there was a second comment added to the first:
Sorry, Meredith, but, due to my nature (thanks to my mother) I had to be critical, meticulous, and grammatical when I noticed that you misspelled Catherine Irene's, your dear cousin, name. If it were me, I would be offended, for if I was addressed as "Kourtney," that would be like a slap in the face. A name acts as a way of respect, and when it is used incorrectly, the respect is violated. At least Catherine probably doesn't mind, but I would. Much Luv, Courtney
Well, it was the "slap in the face" reference that got me. Oh Really. To which I fired off an immediate response which I will include (it's only fair I put egg on my face as well):
you are a fortunate girl indeed if the only things you can find in your life of which to criticize, meticulate or be grammatical about is the difference of a single letter. Knowing the world as I do, you are in for a rough ride if that is a slap in the face. God forbid someone not remember your name at all, or even care...I would not necessarily thank your mother for this particular trait. I just misspelled a word, you have been quite rude...but then I am most likely doing the same...perhaps I should say "sorry, but..." and all will be forgiven. Fortunately, I don't make a habit of addressing you, so I wouldn't DARE run into the Kourtney, Courtney problem....I wonder if that is why.
Again, "sorry, but..." , Meredith
I think I was a little rough on the girl in retrospect but geez. A slap in the face? The irony is that Catherine (not Katherine) was named after my grandmother. My grandmother, upon hearing this story mentioned that, although named on her birth certificate as Catherine, went by Katherine for a number of years. She also was known as Kitty Lou. Her husband, Leo, used to write her letters to which he would address them with a different spelling of her name each time he wrote. Fortunately, she did not consider such negligence a slap in the face else neither one of us would be around with which to spat.
Posted by mermu at 03:07 AM | Comments (10)
Ahh. That's better. After a
Ahh. That's better. After a quick shower to remove the offending egg-white, clay mask and a look-see in the mirror I see that my head is roughly the same size it was before I refined the pores. I don't know if I could take them out to a fancy restaurant, but as pores go they are looking pretty refined. I am now experimenting with an avocado butter treatment for my hair. Which reminds me...
Going Blond, Seeing Red and Having it All
As promised (or threatened as the case may be) I have gotten highlights in my hair. My hair has never been color treated in any way before now so this was a big step for me. I don't even want to think how much I spent. I had promised myself I would start coloring my hair when I got visible grey. But alas I am still mostly brunette and getting ancy about it. My inspiration was my sister's wedding. She is creating a lovely copper underdress/ ivory overdress wedding gown and I thought it would be cool to get highlights in my hair to match the underdress..as I am the best MOH ever!! My colorist, a lovely man with spider-web tattoos on his elbows named Paul, gave me mainly copper highlights with a few blonde ones in for good measure. So now I can say I am a blond...and a redhead and a brunette. Woo hoo! I have to say I love it. It is a subtle difference right now. I am thinking when I have to get it touched up in three months (just before the wedding) I will go a little bolder. This will look great with the henna-tattoo necklace I am thinking about adding to my wedding ensemble!
Posted by mermu at 02:48 AM | Comments (3)
I am multitasking as I
I am multitasking as I write this. I am doing a Burt's Bees Green Goddess Mask in addition to updating the blog. It's a really interesting mask. It comes in a powder which you mix with water to create a paste. For a special mask you can add natural ingredients like herb tea and mayo. I decided to try the whipped egg white which should "refine my pores". All pores need refining every now and then right? Well, as it dries my pores are refining, and refining....and refining. I am wondering if this is how the tribes which did such things actually shrunk heads. It's a weird feeling. I hope I am not screwing up my face...Literally. Uh-oh. Itchy, itchy..ITCHY. Be back in a sec.
Posted by mermu at 02:26 AM | Comments (0)
Well after two weeks of
Well after two weeks of my bedroom stuff in the living room there is still no closet. ARRRGHHH! At this point I am just ecstatic to have a bedroom again. I tried to make myself feel better by rearranging it; thus giving my moving around experience a purpose that was fulfilled. I really like the way the room is set up right now. For now. I have come to realize that I have rearranged my room at least 4 times in the year and a half that I have been here. What's that about?
Also...Greg has a blog now too. Blogger is taking over the world!!!
Posted by mermu at 02:18 AM | Comments (3)