NovemberBenjamin 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.
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.
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.
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.
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
Mixing and mingling and people getting wasted
Lissy and Steve taking pictures during our walk under the Brooklyn Bridge
The restaurant of the Scandinavia House, complete with it's own tree
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
The very ornate wall of cliff divers at Rosa Mexicana
TV on the Radio, rocking out at Ad Week 2011
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
With my incredibly cool siblings at Mi Cocina
Julia, in town and in charge for my Dallas visit
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
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.
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.
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.
It be apple-picking time
JLZ?
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, in one of the 2 shirts he brought for his fortnight stay
This is Arturo.
The bar at the Norwood
The design inside was very eclectic--old-school architecture with all sorts of modern art pieces (though you can't tell from this photo)
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
The proposal is accepted.
Me at the observation deck
Darrell Petit's Kiss
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
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.
