Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Just got this message from LinkedIn. Imma leave the comments out and just let you guys soak this in:

'Doc' Joseph Sinda has sent you a message.
Date: 2/28/2012
Subject: Hi: call me.
Hi Mary: We just did a deal with Echelon Studios for their new White Label DocHollywoodMediaVOD.com
They are more Competitive than Netflix and RED BOX.
Echelon Studios would be paying you for an Article and Placement.
My Tel# 1(562) ###-####. Skype Acct: doc#####
Your So Hott!!! What a great Smile!
All The Best,

Doc Joseph P. Sinda

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Couldn't resist giving a shout out to my parents, and all the other lovely couples I know (you're doing it right):

"In my professional experience, a good sex life is directly tied into emotional connectedness...The idea of two people changing together and—more importantly— accepting each others changes over a 50-year span is delusional unless that person is undeniably your best friend in the whole world. Ever."

Happy Valentine's Day!

Monday, February 06, 2012

November
Benjamin has a skill of which I am very envious: fine motor skills. He can do very detailed, miniature work whereas my trembly meat hands fail to apply the most basic of fake eyelashes. So I was delighted when he presented me with my birthday present: a miniature tyrannosaurus made out of small bits of paper. I was completely enamored by the preciousness.
Benjamin left town on Thursday the 3rd. It was sad to see him go—I love having a man around the house to cook, pick up the dry cleaning, and watch FX with. I’m sure there’s more to cohabitation bliss, but I have yet to discover it.
Speaking of men I used to live with, I went out with Mark on Thursday for our 10th anniversary dinner. I realize it seems bizarre to have an anniversary of a relationship that didn’t make it to 10 years, but it’s something I wanted to celebrate. And it was amazing. A really perfect, romantic, sacred moment.

Friday, November 4th I was feeling ROUGH. Not a lot of sleep for not a lot of days. So after work I went over to Brooke’s house and slept for a few hours with the soft glow of “The Real Housewives of Atlanta” falling on the covers. Then, it was time to party. I borrowed some of Brooke’s sequined leggings, put on some glitter eye makeup, and BAM, I was ready for Down and Derby Disco night.
I want to point out that while ridiculous, these leggings garner me more compliments, phone numbers, cat calls, and attention than ANY SINGLE ITEM OF CLOTHING I HAVE EVER WORN
Each month, the Down and Derby crew take over some hotel or warehouse and have an impromptu rollerskating party. This one was in the basement of the Hudson Hotel, which was decorated (by the hotel) to look like a bar in the middle of a middle school gymnasium. It had to be the weirdest interior design choice I had ever seen.
Rollerskating was EPIC. The last time I rollerskated was in 2006 when I was home with Laura, and while I’m not the greatest, I really love doing it. There were disco balls, some great 70’s funk, everybody was costumed to the nines, the energy was warm and really fun. Amazing! The only problem was….and this is a big problem…the rink was way too small. I’m talking like 20 feet by 40 feet. Which is fine, but when you combine the lights and my already woozy headache state, what you end up getting is a profound sense of vertigo. So after about 30 minutes, I was so sick I had to park in the lounge and suck down glasses of water for the rest of the night.
Lissy found Brooke and me, and we all decided to explore the Hudson Hotel together. I was completely smitten by this place. The upstairs den had wall the ceiling books, a purple pool table, and a mixologist. The art and chandeliers were all super-modern with fun twists, and the vending machines were to die for. Luxury vending machines. Buy a fur coat for $5,000! Buy a gold-and-agate necklace for $1,750! I did for real want the gold and agate necklace, though. It was a genuine temptation.
The second week of November was the week of the Great Market Research fiasco, which dashed my hopes of becoming platinum by 2012. (Yes, #whitegirlproblems, but sorry I’m not sorry.)
So here’s the problem: I am supposed to be flying to Atlanta on Thursday, Denver on Monday, and Chicago on Wednesday to do market research with my new client. I am pumped by this, because this means airline miles and hotel points that I don’t have to pay for. So, I make arrangements to see family, see friends, arrange for Gentleman callers (sad to say I’m not kidding). On Wednesday, I drive to New Jersey to meet the client for the first time. The day went alright: good facility, good food, good internet. There are worse lives than living the market research life, I’ll tell you that.

Thursday the 10th, I have to get up at 5am to get to the airport for our early morning flight. One of the things that cracks me up about getting picked up in a corporate car is the lack of subtly about the whole glass ceiling thing. The magazines in the car were Wired, Details, Men’s Health, GQ….clearly, women are not the expected passengers. (Though in fairness, Wired is gender neutral, and I effing love Details—I used to have a subscription to it in college. (Smart investing tips, for those who care about such things.))

Once at the airport, I go through security and meet up with Paul, my coworker and wing man. We’re both looking through issues of Real Simple, planning out our holiday parties, when we notice a kerfuffle. Because of fog, the flight has been delayed. Then, an hour later, it get canceled. So we have to get new tickets to a flight that leaves 3 hours later. We have to go out through security, get new boarding passes, then go back through security again at a different terminal.

We’re waiting, and I run into a couple I used to go to church with back in Dallas, so I waste a few hours talking to them. Then, around 12pm, Paul and I get told our new flight has been canceled. I get on the phone with AA and throw my weight around (which would be a lot easier to do if I were platinum—JUST SAYING), and get Paul on a direct flight to Atlanta at 130 (testing starts at 4), while I got a flight to Chicago then Atlanta at 230. In the original terminal. Which means we have to go through security AGAIN. At this point, I’m flabbergasted at the situation. We have an elaborate system of computer navigational equipment, we can take off in snow and in ice and in rain, but we can’t take off in FOG? Seriously? Our technology stops at fog? Paul soothes my wounded spirit with a piece of pizza, then he goes to board while I read about Kim Kardashian’s marriage troubles.

Then, at 130, I’m about to board, when Paul texts me and says “DO NOT BOARD.” I wait for him, and he comes back and informs me that the client can’t get down to Atlanta either, so they’re canceling the Atlanta sessions. And they inform him of this on the gangplank as he’s boarding the plane. But such is the nature of the beast. We head back into the office, being the true road warriors we are, and manage to get a few hours of productivity under our belt.

Then, on a conference call the next day, the client decides he wants the session to be smaller, so that means account only in the room—no creative. So my Denver and Chicago sessions also get canceled. As with most of life’s problems, I solve this one with a burrito.

The canceling of the business trip also means I am forced to go out to Woodside, Queens for the district seminary meeting. Let me be straight up about this: I am the worst seminary district coordinator of all time. I don’t speak Spanish, most of my teachers don’t speak English, and most of them don’t use email. So I’ve dealt with the problem by just benignly neglecting my poor teachers, rather than, say, coming up with a creative solution to the problem. But yes, dragged myself over the Woodside, sat through a 2.5 hour district meeting, then came home and put in a Thanksgiving pie order for Veronica at a bakery on Myrtle Avenue. Walking around Brooklyn always makes me wonder why I don’t walk around Brooklyn more often. It’s all so cute, and there are so many adorable stores and good restaurants, but I always stick to the same 10 block circuit in Williamsburg.

On the way back, I’m passing through South Williamsburg—my favorite Hasidic hood—and I’m stopped by an elderly Jewish man. He asks me if I live around the area, which is always code for “are you Jewish?” We talked for a little bit, and then he asked me what I knew about love. As I usually do in these situations, I lied and told him I was married. “No, no” he said, shaking his head. “That is not what I meant. I can tell looking at you that you have the gift. You are a seer. And I need to ask you something.” I nodded and waited for him to continue. “I was with my wife for 40 years, and I loved her very much. She has been dead for 8 years now, and I am very lonely. Look into my eyes and tell me if I will find love again. It has been 8 years and I am so alone."
“You want me to tell you if you will meet another woman to love?”
“Yes, that is what I want to know. I can tell from you, that you are the kind of person who can see into the future, even though you are not Jewish.”
So I smiled and I told him that I had was sure he could find someone who would love him again. He smiled and shook my hand and walked on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had lied—I didn’t see anyone for him. Just family and friends who would be very respectful-but no new loves. Of that I was sure.

Based on my sister Julia’s recommendation, I started the Hunger Games trilogy on Tuesday the 15th, And man did I blow through that like gangbusters. Up every night until 3 or 4 until my eyes were bleary. Hearted SO MUCH. I felt like the characterization falls a part a bit in the third book as Collins tried to squeeze too much together (it really should have been 4 books instead of 3), but overall, I thought it was super accomplished, fun, and imaginative. Really recommend it.

Saturday, I went shopping with Lissy, then crashed at her house. Spent the whole night working on a pitch while she refashioned her website. Blue Shropshire, guacamole, and “The Big Bang Theory” were all heavily involved in this process.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

October: Full Sequence

Sunday the 23rd, I took care of business: asking boys out, giving my church lessons, taking Benji on a walk down Lee Avenue. We checked out the Williamsburg pier, got some grilled cheeses at the Flea Market, skyped with the parents, watched some venture brothers. It was chillaxing. I still can’t help but feel that I am a terrible host when people visit me. I’m all “Hey, want to not do anything new except walk around my neighborhood and eat pizza? No? Too bad that’s what I want to do.”

My beautiful project manager Arturo left on Monday to start his new job, so met him at Bamboo 52 for drinks after work. Those vegetable dumplings were super bad—if it weren’t for their drink specials, I can’t imagine that place would still be in bidness. People sure aren’t coming for the food.

Tuesday the 25 was super awk—somehow stumbled into taking Mark to Sleep No More. Benjamin—and in truth, everybody else I told about it—was very un-enthusiastic about the idea. We had an awkward lunch over yakitori as I tried vainly to explain myself.

Mark of course showed up looking awesome. Our conversation was stilted at first, but gradually fell back into its old patterns until he or I would remember that we were not, in fact, still friends. Then things would get very quiet very fast.

Afterwards, we grabbed some food nearby. I regret a lot of what I said, and more of what I didn’t say. But I still enjoyed myself more than I had in months, which was an unfortunate consequence of the evening. I did feel better when I returned home to find a pan of made-from-scratch lemon bars. Oh Benjamin, you are determined to make me fat, and for this I am grateful.
The next day, I stayed home from work with a colossal migraine. Feeling like a terrible host, I crawled out in the afternoon and schlepped into SoHo, taking Benji to some of my favorite stores—Ritual Vintage (Antique and Vintage clothing store), All Saints, Evolution, and Ben Sherman. Ritual Vintage had a whole bunch of Victorian and Edwardian dresses that were to die for—I ended up buying a skirt from the 1880’s. I need to mend the waist, but otherwise it’s to die for. In the evening, Benjamin made me a delicious pork loin dinner as I took a nap.
Thursday the 27th, my roommate had to put up with another one of my drop-in houseguests, as my love Annika came to the city. Annika works at the Kristen Flagstad museum in Norway, and comes to New York every few months to meet with The Met regarding acquisitions and loans. In this case, her trip coincided perfectly with some of the Met’s new production of the Ring Cycle. The stripped down production, boasting a $40 million dollar stage design “Beast” that rotates for video projection, has been relatively controversial (by NYC Opera standards, I guess).
Annika had bought me tickets to see Siegfred which, clocking in at 5.5 hours, was definitely a force to be reckoned with. But I am determined to see the entire Ring cycle, so it is a sacrifice that must be made.
Up until Thursday, I had only seen Götterdämmerung, the first in the series—so seeing Seigfred was like skipping to the end of a long book. I had to keep reading the plot summary to figure out the entire back story I had missed. But after the first hour, man, that baby flew by. Those 5.5 hours were gone like they were nothing. I adored it—adored the way the leitmotif unfurled, loved the relationship between Seigfred and Brünnhilde. Plus, during the first intermission, Annika and I snuck over to Duane Reade and grabbed some Twix bars and soda, which we smuggled into the Met. Yep that’s me, drinking Pepsi clandestinely during a Wagner opera, like the classy lady I am.
I had to ditch Annika Friday night, as it was The World Inferno Friendship Society’s Hallowmas. I blogged about this back in 2006 when I went with Benjamin and his friend Joanne. This time, the action was in Lincoln Plaza, and the theme was gray.

I went as a silver screen star, coating myself head to toe in grey paint. Benjamin went as a grey Henchman from Venture Brothers.
Unlike previous Hallowmas celebrations, however, we were among the most ornately dressed. It was sad to see everyone being too cool for school. A shocking lack of bowties and tuxedos, if I do say so myself.
The show itself was, as always, completely awesome. Waltzing and jumping and moshing and elbows flying., stage dancing and wine spitting and chandelier swinging. My feet were stomped so many times I was convinced they were broken, and for several weeks afterwards had a limp.
After the show, Benjamin met up with his friend Joanne, and they went out to do stuff together, while I went to the Dumb and Reckless record release party up in Greenpoint. Labretta Suede represented as only she can do—with lots of nipple and hair a-swinging. I danced like crazy—still high off all the World Inferno energy.
Ran into Mark, and we had a niceish talk outside. He had a nice whisky buzz going so he was actually being kind to me, which was a bit of a shock. OK, that's a bit unfair-I know he tries, and I know my jabbing comments don’t make it easy, but it’s hard not to get insulted by the thousand little jabs that come with being demoted from lover to friend. They’re unconscious, of course, but still prickling. I got home around 3 or 4 in the morning, and noticed my silver and black makeup and all blurred together, making me look like the bell tower hunchback. No wonder everyone on the street had been staring at me.
Saturday the 29th, October decided to send us out with a colossal snow storm. While 3-6 inches isn’t a big deal when it’s winter, in a surprisingly warm Fall with the leaves all on the trees, it turns out to be a big deal. Leaves + snow = really heavy wet slop, and that means tree branches be busting down all over, yo. Huge blackouts, trees split in half, all around grossness. Because I had abandoned Annika on Friday, Benjamin and I took her into the city, where we did some shopping and ate a few sandwiches. The weather took it out of us, though, so we shuttled off back to the house around 4, and Annika headed back to JFK.
I had been so distracted by company that my Sunday lesson on the 30th was the worst I had given in recent memory. Benji stayed home, still feeling a bit sick and under the weather. We ordered in some burgers, and then I went over to Brooke’s house to watch the Simpsons Halloween episode and hang out with a sculptor (named Mark) and an accountant (Kevin). This is my life.
My pre-Halloween calendar was so intense that my actual Halloween was a super-big let down. Benji went to Philadelphia to catch the last World Inferno Show (they were doing a series of Hallowmas shows), and I hightailed it all the way over to Grant and Clinton to see a steam-punk/performance art haunted house.
And man, did it suck. It sucked super hard. It was like $25, and it looked like it had been made out of whatever was leftover in your family basement. The lights were super bright (no doubt for fear of a lawsuit), so there was no suspense, and the “frights” were essentially people dressed up as Victorian Goths who got really close to you and made prolonged eye contact.
NOT SCARY

Yeah, I’m not really the kind of girl that’s going to get weirded out by someone in torn clothing and black eye makeup staring at me. So I felt bored AND ripped off. But no matter! That’s the risk with new things: wins and losses in equal measure.
In another, if fringier, analysis, the show’s focus on the struggles of a contained brigade of human survivors in a post-apocalyptic galaxy is a loose parable for the events in the Book of Mormon: Gaius Baltar (James Callis), the venal scientist turned collaborator turned false prophet turned savior equated not with Jesus or a hundred televangelists but with Joseph Smith. (The original “Battlestar Galactica” of the late 1970s was created by a member of the Church of Latter-day Saints, lending the thesis a certain currency online.)


I KNEW IT

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Rothko Sandwich

Mondrian Sandwich

Hirst Sandwich

All courtesy of Low Commitment Projects

Wednesday, January 18, 2012


I wrote the following to my Congresswoman today:

Dear Congresswoman Velazquez,
This is the first time I've ever written to a representative, but I must say something about the PIPA and SOPA acts, which threatens the open internet by creating a witch-hunt for potential downloaders. Congresswoman, one of the reasons for the last financial crash--and for our present economic situation--is that centralization of power thwarts competition. Once power has been given, it is never given up again. By giving more power to large corporations, and giving less power to the individual citizen, you are creating an environment where the needs of the few outweigh the needs of the many.

Please vote against these bills.
My best,
Mary Jones


Get involved

Sunday, January 01, 2012

From my mom to me, my siblings and dad this morning:



http://www.dirtyelectricity.ca/index.htm

In Canada, MS and other neuro diseases are epidemic. This is an article on emf radiation's harmful effects and what to do,
PUT ON YOUR FOIL HELMETS !
MAY YOUR NEW YEAR BE GLOWINGLY RADIANT (not} and may we all REFLECT on our blessings --beneath our aluminum helmets.
I want a ghost hunter kit (emf detector) for my birthday. And lots of heavy duty FOIL.
LOVE YA ALL WITH SHOCKING INTENSITY,
Ms. Itoldyouso

Friday, December 30, 2011

October: First Sequence

October was a month of networking events and work volatility, of celebrations of fall and friends. Let us join hands and explore this road together.
Mixing and mingling and people getting wasted

It started out with Digital DUMBO, a monthly open bar event in DUMBO where tech companies show off their latest swag and host an open bar. I went with my Euro pals Lissy and Steve McQueen. Afterwards we talked type faces at Grimaldi’s. This is what advertising people do: we network, then we talk about fonts and technology like we’re still in college, and people pay us for it. Astonishing.
Lissy and Steve taking pictures during our walk under the Brooklyn Bridge

At the event, Lissy convinced me to go check out the IBM Think exhibit at the Met. I agreed if she agreed to come with me to see Diane Wolkstein's storytelling session at the Scandinavia House beforehand. She agreed, and Brooke tagged along. Diane told some Hans Christian Anderson stories, and then joined us for a little while for brunch at the fantastic restaurant downstairs.
The restaurant of the Scandinavia House, complete with it's own tree

After some window shopping and hair wrapping, we finally found the Think exhibit, which was (naturally) a glorified commercial for IBM's latest technology.
It was a room with gigantic high def tough screens that showed movies of how computers were pushing innovation, then it allowed users to interact with the various features to learn more. As I was in the middle of working on an iPad application, I was actually pretty interested in the organization and interface of the touchscreens, so the promotional aspect didn't bother me.
Brooke and Lissy, just chilling you know girl

On October 5th, Lissy and I once again reunited for Ad Week’s Microsoft party, where she had gotten VIP tickets. Before hand, we ate at Rosa Mexicana, where we heard about Steve Job’s death. That put a bit of a pallor over the whole evening, because Lissy was a genuine Jobs devotee, and considered his death to be a true tragedy.
The very ornate wall of cliff divers at Rosa Mexicana

The Microsoft party was in Terminal 5, and everyone in attendance was quite obviously Very Important and believed themselves to be Very Important. Also young—so young. At 30 I was one of the old timer’s in the room. I thought it was a great tribute to Jobs that the photobooth Microsoft was running used Apple hardware. Microsoft didn’t skimp, and offered another open bar, which was mostly useless for me. TV on the Radio played a set, which I liked. I wasn’t crazy about their older stuff, but their newer stuff has a great vibe, and they put on an energetic show.
TV on the Radio, rocking out at Ad Week 2011

Thursday, the pharma company my agency works for wiped out their entire marketing department, and I found myself facing the possibility of being jobless at Thanksgiving. I can’t go into the details, but you can read about some of the drama on this message board.

I spent the next month floating around the office with nothing to do. I realized how much pride I took in my job, how much I felt I had accomplished something great by clawing my way to a well-paying advertising job in New York. Facing the possibility of losing that job, my accomplishments seemed very small and unsubstantial. Which, of course, they are in the grand scheme of things, but it was a surprising blow to my self-esteem. It’s one thing to have your life’s love leave you—it’s another thing to be left and lose your job in the same year. It makes you feel like everything is slipping away.

To console ourselves, our team went out for a final lunch together at Ruby Foo's. It was nice, though none of us were sure what to say
I went home that Friday. Saturday morning I met with my high school BFF Bonnie at Kathleen’s Art Café near her work. She’s just the sweetest, most wonderful person and we talked a lot about our successes and disappointments over the last few months. I came to her work for an hour and hung out by the embroidery thread while she introduced me to the Vampire Diary Photo Recaps.
Hanging out with the ladies at the embroidery store

Met with Dad, Julia, Jordan, and Zach at Mi Cocina for lunch, then saw the truly horrendous “Abduction” because my dad HAD TO SEE A MOVIE and that’s all there was. And believe me, I wish I hadn’t.
With my incredibly cool siblings at Mi Cocina

Went to church with my parents on the 9th and joined them, mistakenly, in their Family Relationships class, which is meant to strengthen marriages. The teacher was saying something about how men and women’s brains are different and so that’s why we need different things, but the guys in the class took that as free reign to point out why they shouldn’t pitch in with housework or talk to their wives about their feelings. So of course I had to jump in by pointing out that most of those biological changes can be changed with a few minutes of coaching (in some cases), and that we are much more malleable to nurture than we think we are. Afterwards mom said that I intimidated everyone. Sick of being told this I asked her to elaborate, and she said “I didn’t get it either until I heard you speak, and I noticed that people just get freaked out. You’re so confident that other people don’t know what to do.”
Julia, in town and in charge for my Dallas visit

Monday the 10th I went to IHOP with my family and bought some arrows so I could help Zach with his Eagle Scout certification. I could not even believe how much my archery skills have deteriorated since high school. If I ever get a real house, I am setting up a target in the back yard. This is ridiculous.

Before heading to the airport, I asked for a prescription for antidepressants, the first time I’ve asked since 2005. The job situation had taken me to a very black space, and I found it impossible to crawl out from under it, no matter how much I tried.

From Thurs October 13th-Monday 17th, Anna O. came into town with a whirl of energy. Friday she picked me up at work, and we went down to DUMBO to see Karen O’s digital/rock opera Stop the Virgens.
Somewhere between a rock concert, Japanese kabuki, performance art, and Germanic opera, Stop the Virgens was unlike anything I had really experienced before.
Karen O, doing it like she does it best

A semi-autobiographical story of growing up, Karen served as sort of a playwrite, with a Greek chorus of blonde wigged girls acting out moments from her childhood and her development as an artist in front of an ever-changing stage decorated with screens and digital projections.
I found the whole thing very powerful, and even teared up at the end when the little girls fell down, blood hemorrhaging from their mouths and chests.
You can read a review of the spectacle here.

Afterwards Anna and I wandered over to the Origin installation across the street.
Built as part of the Creator’s Project by United Visual Artists, the UVA crew used a series of pressure and infared signals to trigger digital music and light displays.

“A multi-disciplinary collective from the UK, UVA can best be described as “architects of light and sound,” creating colossal interactive installations and sets for live performance that have the power to attract and captivate audiences like moths to the proverbial flame….For our New York event in DUMBO this weekend, UVA will debut Origin, their latest large-scale responsive LED sculpture. At 10 metres wide and 10 metres high, it’s the largest responsive work they’ve created thus far. Taking inspiration from UVA’s previous monumental site-specific works like Monolith, Tryptich and Volume, they’ve created a giant cubic structure that is simple in form but still manages to create a powerful ‘otherworldly’, ‘alien’ or ‘god-like’ presence. Calling to mind images of Mecca and the Tower of Babel, the group hopes to capture the energy and diversity of NYC in the experience.”

I found the hum strangely enchanting, and Anna and I laid down in the middle of the sculpture and just listed to the pulses and hums for half an hour.

Saturday, I needed me some city detoxing, so Brooke, Anna, and my roommate Veronica all hopped on the Metro North to check out the Wilken’s Fruit Farm. Located near the Croton-Hamon stop, we took a taxi through some of the most peaceful and beautiful forests I had seen in a long time. It reminded me a lot of Vermont, with changing leaves and silvery lakes.
It be apple-picking time

It had just rained the day before, so the farm was a bit chillier than we had expected. Still, we warmed up at the café with hot apple cider and fresh-off-the-fryer apple doughnuts.
JLZ?

The ground was muddy, so we ended up getting more dirty than we wanted to as we tramped through long grasses and orchards, picking the last of the season’s apples.
As you can expect, there were shenanigans.
Re-enacting the infamous scene in Footloose. I need a hero!

Monday Anna leaves, and on Tuesday the 18th Benjamin arrives. Having broken up with his fiancée earlier in the year, we had a lot of similar bruises to compare. He was planning on coming up to New York for the World Inferno’s Hallowmas spectacle, and since he was between jobs, I told him he could come up earlier and house-husband for me. My dinner isn’t going to make itself, obvs.

Benjamin’s presence is always restorative. He is very positive and physically affectionate, and uncomplicated in his wishes and wants. We spent a large amount of his visit just watching things and eating pizza, which is about all I could do after work
Benjamin, in one of the 2 shirts he brought for his fortnight stay

Work started going better, as I was picked up by a new team and given all sorts of nice perks and additional responsibilities (and a new office! With real walls! Only without a door. But progress!). I talked to my HR head about being transferred to Europe, and she said I could submit my paper work as soon as I wanted. I was immediately overtaken with a kind of cold feeling, which I am still trying to sort out. Usually when I’ve made a right decision about something I feel completely calm and almost passive, or at least very calm with a buzzing nervous energy. This felt very prickly, angular—I’m still sorting out if it’s my childhood aversion to moving, or something more spiritual that’s at the root of this anxiety. Until I sort it out, I’m staying put for the time being.
This is Arturo.

Friday the 21st was Arturo’s 40th birthday at the Norwood. Arturo was my project manager—an incredibly organized, hyper competent, kind, funny, and stylish man who I happened to adore. His partner Andy was a member of the Norwood, a super fancy cultural country club that has members like Gwyneth Paltrow, and the Norwood had condescended to allow Arturo to celebrate in its hallowed halls. Recognizing that this would be my only opportunity to ever set foot in the Norwood, I was psyched to go.
The bar at the Norwood

Before the party, my coworker Samantha had her husband Fourth meet up with Benjamin and I at work, and we all headed over to 33rd street to grab some Indian food. When the restaurant I had picked turned out to have no tables, we jumped across the street for some pub food. I always thought of myself as a very good, supportive girlfriend, but watching Sam and her husband, it became clear to me why I’m not a particularly heteronormative or feminine girlfriend. She deferred to him to order or to tell a story, was constantly saying little things to make him feel more masculine or more powerful. She never joked with him or teased him at his expense. It was very odd to watch, because I had only seen work Sam—bossy, brash, confident, and very much The Star. But when out as a couple, she made sure her husband got the attention from the group. This is not in anyway a criticism, just peculiar to me, and I went away very reflexive.
The design inside was very eclectic--old-school architecture with all sorts of modern art pieces (though you can't tell from this photo)

The Norwood of course, was a thrilling success. Wonderful food, wonderful drinks, all my friends from work, beautiful art, and great conversation. As is usual whenever I take him out, everytime I left the room Benjamin would be swarmed by men and women trying to cajole him into bed. I cannot take that boy anywhere.
Andy had hired the drag star Hedda Lettuce to perform. Drag stars are always kind of my bag—mouthy and dirty and irreverent, and poor Arturo bore the brunt of the roasting.
Arturo taking a beating

But afterwards, Andy made things better by asking Arturo to marry him in a surprise proposal.
The proposal is accepted.

None of us saw it coming, and we were all absolutely thrilled. The two of them have had such sadness in their lives, and they really deserve the happiness and stability of a lifetime together.

The next morning, continuing the celebration of fall, Brooke and I took a bus upstate to Cornwall for a visit to Storm King.
Me at the observation deck

Ah, Storm King—the Field of Dreams for contemporary and modern sculpture. Founded in 1960 by Ralph E. Ogden, Storm King is an open-air museum on 500 acres of beautiful Hudson Valley hills and vales. A few of the sculptures are hidden on hiking trails, and visitors are allowed to hike in the forests surrounding the park.
Darrell Petit's Kiss

Outside of the usual Calders and Serras, there were some wonderful, unique pieces like a mirrored picket fence or a multi-lensed telescope. One piece that I very much enjoyed was Mark di Suvero’s “Beethoven’s Quartet”; a ram’s head of a bell suspended over a lone mallet.
Visitors could take the mallet and bang away at the bell, producing various warm tones. They notes would hang in the air like lambs wool.
Alyson Shotz's telescope

When Brooke and I weren’t looking at the sculptures, which were breathtaking, we were hiking in the forests.
We took off our shoes and soaked them in a creek then took naps on the flat rocks, hair tangled in the roots of new trees.