I have been following the trial of hip hop mogul Irv Gotti.
(How much do I love the word "mogul?")
Today's paper had a small story about how their former intern testified that he had seen shoe boxes full of x thousands of bills of "dirty money."
Gotti's attorney then produced a shoe box, x thousands of fake bills, and said something like "Since you claim to have seen x thousands of bills in a show box, please show us how x thousands of bills could fit."
The former intern, of course, could not fit the bills into the shoe box.
The hip hop community laughed.
The point of all of this? I can't believe this sort of thing happens in real life. It seems like something that would happen only on an episode of Ally McBeal. Lawyers using empty shoe boxes with fake bills as a demonstration.
Awesome.
This is going to be a great movie when they make a movie about this.
I only wonder if Ja Rule will play himself.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Celebrity Sighting.... Not!
Last evening, while contemplating the nature of art and what makes something "good" or "bad" or "difficult" and being emotional and worrying about the future, I apparently walked into Joe Pesci without even realizing it!!!
R said "Oooh... first celebrity sighting!"
"What? Where? WHAT?!"
"That short guy."
"WHAT!?!?"
"Did you see that group of girls?"
Yes, I'd noticed the group of teenaged girls walking into the gallery, because they had on far too much makeup and because it was weird to see teenagers at a gallery's opening reception on a Thursday night.
"He was right behind them."
"DAMMIT!"
That would have been a good one. Really. We could have actually talked to him.
Drat.
R said "Oooh... first celebrity sighting!"
"What? Where? WHAT?!"
"That short guy."
"WHAT!?!?"
"Did you see that group of girls?"
Yes, I'd noticed the group of teenaged girls walking into the gallery, because they had on far too much makeup and because it was weird to see teenagers at a gallery's opening reception on a Thursday night.
"He was right behind them."
"DAMMIT!"
That would have been a good one. Really. We could have actually talked to him.
Drat.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Date
What's better than sharing a bottle of wine and a cheese plate and a hummus plate and creme brulee and banana/walnut bread pudding with banana caramel sauce and hot chocolate sauce over candlelight and man-bashing while it is pouring rain outside?
Nothing. There is nothing better than gluttony with a girl friend.
Nothing. There is nothing better than gluttony with a girl friend.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Someone please tell me that my boyfriend of almost a year did not just suggest that I live in an undergraduate dorm were I to go back to school, when I would be going back to school in order to be able to stay in NYC with him for as long as his uncompromising self deems appropriate.
I am on the verge of a fit.
I should really just move back to Boston.
I am on the verge of a fit.
I should really just move back to Boston.
Have Disdain for Your Audience
My last photography class was last night. Instead of having an actual class, we had a party - with a group exhibit (also including photos from the other Tuesday night class - I'd said the week before "What if that other class is better than us? We'll have to fight them!" but, ahem, they were not better than us) that was open to the public. I was very happy that my New York friends showed up. It was nice of them to show their support.
It was fun. Very, very fun. I expected there to be only a few people, but I think there were probably 100 people there (not all at once - over the course of three hours). It was interesting to watch strangers react to my photography. It was interesting to see other people's photography. It was fun to gush over the amazing shows and make fun of the not-so-amazing shows.
At one point I was standing near my photos, and Teacher came up to me and started giving me a hard time about the show I chose. I'd agonized over it. I had three solid shows - all very different - and decided to go with a less-emotional, more technically sophisticated show. He said "These all pop - which is good - but they all stand alone. It's too obvious." He was cross with me for not picking the more emotional, more subtle show. I'd wanted to pick the emotional, personal one but had been convinced otherwise by D, who was very attached to the show I ended up picking.
"But other people..." I said.
"Don't listen to other people."
"But they are the audience."
"You have to have disdain for your audience. If you aren't arrogant, you won't be a good photographer."
Interesting.
He said "All of your images are good. Everything you do is good. I wouldn't say this unless I thought you were capable of both."
I was flattered. He was gushing. I wanted to give him a hug but didn't, because that would be inappropriate. But it probably would have been ok, because there was much wine being consumed.
What he said is true. I have to trust myself. I can't seek approval from others. I have to go with my instinct and put myself out there and I should have put up the other show because I was more attached to it. I guess his point was that an artist's attachment to something is very important, and that the audience will see and respond to that.
Yes.
It was sad to say goodbye to my classmates. Just as I'd grown attached to the work I produced throughout the class, I'd grown attached to them. Having something concrete every week, looking forward to seeing people, getting excited about their shows... I don't know what I am going to do with myself.
I collected contact information and we talked about taking another photography class together. Or forming a club. Or getting together for a reunion after the holidays to look at everyone's photos from their holiday travels. I was thinking of maybe setting up a Flickr group for us, but they don't have accounts.
All of these things we say that we'll do... will I ever see them again? Probably not. I'll try, though. Because I am attached.
Saying good-bye to Teacher was even worse. "Well, I'm leaving," I said. Silence. "Umm... the class was good. Comprehensive. I enjoyed it. Yeah." "I want to see more of your images." "I have so many I never had time to show you." "Send them to me. Please. Keep in touch." I didn't say "You were awesome, you taught me so much, your criticism and praise have been motivating. Thank you thank you thank you thank you."
D said "So what's next?" and I said "Shit. I don't know." I don't know. I think nothing until after the holidays, and then the ball will start rolling and I'll start working on a portfolio and will make phone calls to Teacher about old lenses and picking images and programs. And I'll start a photography club. And I'll learn how to use film, I swear.
Today I am feeling a mixture of elation and distress. The show went well, the photos were well-received, I had great conversations with friends and strangers, people had fun, I felt all sorts of love and support which is something that I lack here in NYC. I've been thinking about the final show for 9 weeks and it's over. There's now the sense of having nothing to look forward to.
Oh well.
It was a good 9 weeks and I guess all good things must come to an end.
It was fun. Very, very fun. I expected there to be only a few people, but I think there were probably 100 people there (not all at once - over the course of three hours). It was interesting to watch strangers react to my photography. It was interesting to see other people's photography. It was fun to gush over the amazing shows and make fun of the not-so-amazing shows.
At one point I was standing near my photos, and Teacher came up to me and started giving me a hard time about the show I chose. I'd agonized over it. I had three solid shows - all very different - and decided to go with a less-emotional, more technically sophisticated show. He said "These all pop - which is good - but they all stand alone. It's too obvious." He was cross with me for not picking the more emotional, more subtle show. I'd wanted to pick the emotional, personal one but had been convinced otherwise by D, who was very attached to the show I ended up picking.
"But other people..." I said.
"Don't listen to other people."
"But they are the audience."
"You have to have disdain for your audience. If you aren't arrogant, you won't be a good photographer."
Interesting.
He said "All of your images are good. Everything you do is good. I wouldn't say this unless I thought you were capable of both."
I was flattered. He was gushing. I wanted to give him a hug but didn't, because that would be inappropriate. But it probably would have been ok, because there was much wine being consumed.
What he said is true. I have to trust myself. I can't seek approval from others. I have to go with my instinct and put myself out there and I should have put up the other show because I was more attached to it. I guess his point was that an artist's attachment to something is very important, and that the audience will see and respond to that.
Yes.
It was sad to say goodbye to my classmates. Just as I'd grown attached to the work I produced throughout the class, I'd grown attached to them. Having something concrete every week, looking forward to seeing people, getting excited about their shows... I don't know what I am going to do with myself.
I collected contact information and we talked about taking another photography class together. Or forming a club. Or getting together for a reunion after the holidays to look at everyone's photos from their holiday travels. I was thinking of maybe setting up a Flickr group for us, but they don't have accounts.
All of these things we say that we'll do... will I ever see them again? Probably not. I'll try, though. Because I am attached.
Saying good-bye to Teacher was even worse. "Well, I'm leaving," I said. Silence. "Umm... the class was good. Comprehensive. I enjoyed it. Yeah." "I want to see more of your images." "I have so many I never had time to show you." "Send them to me. Please. Keep in touch." I didn't say "You were awesome, you taught me so much, your criticism and praise have been motivating. Thank you thank you thank you thank you."
D said "So what's next?" and I said "Shit. I don't know." I don't know. I think nothing until after the holidays, and then the ball will start rolling and I'll start working on a portfolio and will make phone calls to Teacher about old lenses and picking images and programs. And I'll start a photography club. And I'll learn how to use film, I swear.
Today I am feeling a mixture of elation and distress. The show went well, the photos were well-received, I had great conversations with friends and strangers, people had fun, I felt all sorts of love and support which is something that I lack here in NYC. I've been thinking about the final show for 9 weeks and it's over. There's now the sense of having nothing to look forward to.
Oh well.
It was a good 9 weeks and I guess all good things must come to an end.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Mashed Po
Apparently I am not the only one with the mashed-potato buffet issue.
As of late, I've been treating myself to the new and fantastic hot/cold buffet at this cafeteria-esque restaurant across the street. It's heaven! You can do things like mix teriyaki vegetables with fried plantains and candied yams and cucumer salad and pesto pasta primavera.
The problem is that they have mashed potatoes every day! And, of course, mashed potatoes rule. I could eat a meal comprised entirely of mashed potatoes. Why don't I, you ask? Because mashed potatoes weigh more than other types of food. And the buffet is pay-by-the-pound.
Here is the problem. You always want mashed potatoes, but the minute you put the mashed potatoes on your plate, you realize "Crap, those weigh a ton." And then you compensate by getting far less from the buffet than you'd like.
Yesterday, The Boss said "How was your lunch?"
"It was good," I said, "But I'm still starving."
"Why?"
"Because I have this issue with the hot/cold buffet."
"ISN'T THAT THING GREAT?!!"
"It is, but I always want the mashed potatoes."
"Me too! But they weigh so much!"
"Right! So I'm always starving."
"ME TOO!!! I feel your pain."
I feel so much better knowing that other people have a mashed potato addiction that prevents them from ever feeling full. It is nice to know that I am no alone in the world.
As of late, I've been treating myself to the new and fantastic hot/cold buffet at this cafeteria-esque restaurant across the street. It's heaven! You can do things like mix teriyaki vegetables with fried plantains and candied yams and cucumer salad and pesto pasta primavera.
The problem is that they have mashed potatoes every day! And, of course, mashed potatoes rule. I could eat a meal comprised entirely of mashed potatoes. Why don't I, you ask? Because mashed potatoes weigh more than other types of food. And the buffet is pay-by-the-pound.
Here is the problem. You always want mashed potatoes, but the minute you put the mashed potatoes on your plate, you realize "Crap, those weigh a ton." And then you compensate by getting far less from the buffet than you'd like.
Yesterday, The Boss said "How was your lunch?"
"It was good," I said, "But I'm still starving."
"Why?"
"Because I have this issue with the hot/cold buffet."
"ISN'T THAT THING GREAT?!!"
"It is, but I always want the mashed potatoes."
"Me too! But they weigh so much!"
"Right! So I'm always starving."
"ME TOO!!! I feel your pain."
I feel so much better knowing that other people have a mashed potato addiction that prevents them from ever feeling full. It is nice to know that I am no alone in the world.
Monday, November 14, 2005
The Elusive Flea Market
On Sunday, The Parents, D and I headed to the Upper West Side for brunch at Cafe Mozart. Father had parked his car in a lot, much to his dismay, the day before. He searched for a space but could not find one. The guy at the lot said "If you pick up your car later than 1:17 tomorrow, it will be $10 for each additional hour."
Father said "I have to get my car at 1:17."
"But our reservation is at noon. There's no way we will be back here by 1:17."
"No, I have to be."
"OK. Well, why don't you get up on Sunday morning and move the car? It's free to park on Sundays now."
Father thought that was a good idea, but then said "Well, would it make more sense to just drive?"
"I don't know," I said. "I have no idea what parking is like on the upper west side. That's unchartered territory. I suppose its just as unlikely to find a spot up there as it is down here, so why not?"
D agreed, and advocated our just driving up there.
So we did.
We got there in about 5 minutes and then spent 30 minutes looking for a spot. Father remained surprisingly chill about the whole thing, dropped us off, and then ended up parking in a sketchy spot that had earlier been vetoed by Mother. Heh.
Brunch was yum.
After brunch, D left to ride his bike and Mother and I headed down to the elusive Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, which was actually there! Crazy. This activity was unplanned, but we'd passed it on our way north on 10th Avenue, and decided to, gasp, be spontaneous since it was such a lovely day!
Father parked illegally and just stayed in the car, while Mother looked at weird jewelry and I looked at vintage coats and jewelry.
I am now certain that The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market from Summer 2004 was not the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, because it was not a flea market. It was definitely a street fair. The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market is definitely a classic flea market.
Here are some photos:
We had a great time. I bought a baby blue cosmetics case from the 70's in which to store camera equipment. Awshummmmmm!
Saying good-bye to The Parents was hard, since I probably won't see them again until Christmas. It's not so much not seeing them as it is knowing that it's more difficult to see them now. When I lived an hour away from them, I probably saw them less than I do now but knew I could see them whenever I wanted.
Sigh.
I spent the remainder of Sunday being mostly reclusive and not enjoying the nice weather because I thought it was more important to decompress and be totally alone. I wanted to go to B & H or The Container Store, but I decided instead to download music and deal with photos and make a few phone calls and watch The Pajama Game. I'll have four full days off for Thanksgiving during which I can run errands and see movies and be around a zillion people. It's just as important to take advantage of quiet time.
And with that, I'm off. To have more quiet time tonight, before the chaos starts up again tomorrow night.
Until tomorrow....
Father said "I have to get my car at 1:17."
"But our reservation is at noon. There's no way we will be back here by 1:17."
"No, I have to be."
"OK. Well, why don't you get up on Sunday morning and move the car? It's free to park on Sundays now."
Father thought that was a good idea, but then said "Well, would it make more sense to just drive?"
"I don't know," I said. "I have no idea what parking is like on the upper west side. That's unchartered territory. I suppose its just as unlikely to find a spot up there as it is down here, so why not?"
D agreed, and advocated our just driving up there.
So we did.
We got there in about 5 minutes and then spent 30 minutes looking for a spot. Father remained surprisingly chill about the whole thing, dropped us off, and then ended up parking in a sketchy spot that had earlier been vetoed by Mother. Heh.
Brunch was yum.
After brunch, D left to ride his bike and Mother and I headed down to the elusive Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, which was actually there! Crazy. This activity was unplanned, but we'd passed it on our way north on 10th Avenue, and decided to, gasp, be spontaneous since it was such a lovely day!
Father parked illegally and just stayed in the car, while Mother looked at weird jewelry and I looked at vintage coats and jewelry.
I am now certain that The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market from Summer 2004 was not the Hell's Kitchen Flea Market, because it was not a flea market. It was definitely a street fair. The Hell's Kitchen Flea Market is definitely a classic flea market.
Here are some photos:
We had a great time. I bought a baby blue cosmetics case from the 70's in which to store camera equipment. Awshummmmmm!
Saying good-bye to The Parents was hard, since I probably won't see them again until Christmas. It's not so much not seeing them as it is knowing that it's more difficult to see them now. When I lived an hour away from them, I probably saw them less than I do now but knew I could see them whenever I wanted.
Sigh.
I spent the remainder of Sunday being mostly reclusive and not enjoying the nice weather because I thought it was more important to decompress and be totally alone. I wanted to go to B & H or The Container Store, but I decided instead to download music and deal with photos and make a few phone calls and watch The Pajama Game. I'll have four full days off for Thanksgiving during which I can run errands and see movies and be around a zillion people. It's just as important to take advantage of quiet time.
And with that, I'm off. To have more quiet time tonight, before the chaos starts up again tomorrow night.
Until tomorrow....
Canstruction NYC 2005
The Parents came to visit this weekend. We had a lovely time, mainly because I'd planned a busy weekend for us.
When they arrived on Saturday, they said "We don't want to do much walking (since Father is on crutches) so we aren't going to come to The Cans." I said "Well, that's fine. You guys can stay here but I am going to see The Cans."
I was referring to Canstruction, which is a contest wherein teams design huge objects out of canned goods and bottles and other foods that will then be donated to various hunger-ending charities. Awesome! I was not going to miss it because of The Parents.
Mother said "Well, ok, I wouldn't mind just staying in your apartment and relaxing."
"OK, that's cool," I said. "But you guys will have to meet us at The Chocolate Show afterwards because it doesn't make any sense for me to come and get you."
"Oh. How will get there?" I explained that it was a very easy cab ride and that I would give them my keys to lock up and would call them when D and I had finished looking at The Cans.
"Ummm..."
"We'll come!" Father declared.
Hah. I know them far too well. I knew the mere mention of their taking a cab alone would be enough to make them my slaves for the day! Mwa ha ha!!!
We left my apartment and it was a bit colder than I'd anticipated, so I said "You guys wait here while I run upstairs and change my coat. We'll get a cab when I come back down." You can imagine my surprise when, upon my return to the sidewalk, my parents had hailed a cab on their own! I said "What!? How did you guys do this?" Turned out a cab just stopped because he saw Father standing there with crutches, but still! I was so proud of them!!!
We met D at the Design Center and had a fabulous time. It definitely would have been easier had one of us not been on crutches, but it didn't really matter. We just took an elevator from floor to floor. The Canstructions were all adorable. Some were better than others. Many had cute puns on "Can" in the title, although I can't remember any of them and already threw out the list of names. Drat!
Anyway, here are some photos:
Empire State Building
Music Notes
Rubics Cube
Rose
Rocket
The Guggenheim
IPod (this one, along with a bunch of others, had fallen down shortly after being assembled... so sad!)
Lotus (Mother voted for this one for People's Choice)
Wave (Father and I voted for this one)
Cobra
Penguins
King Kong (and please note Mrs. Butterworth in his hand! Awesome!!!)
Pirate Ship (and please note life preserver made of LifeSavers as well as the usage of Chips Ahoy! and Pirate Booty... argggghhhhhhhh!)
PacMan
I didn't take photos of everything, but feel free to vote for your favorite for the My Mundane Life In Song Reader's Choice Award!
D and I were inspired. D said "We must enter next year!" and even came up with an awesome idea for an entry. Our enthusiasm died, though, when we considered how many canned goods you'd need to practice with and how much space you'd need to practice. So I guess we won't enter. Sadness.
After Canstruction, the four of us grabbed a cab and headed to The Chocolate Show. I don't have any photos from The Chocolate Show because I was far too busy stuffing my face with amazing free samples. Dear god. I bought some orange-flavored dark chocolate and some chocolate-covered potato sticks. D bought a collection of gourmet peanut butter - six different kinds, including white chocolate peanut butter and cinnamon raisin peanut butter! Does life get any better?
We wanted to buy more, but by the end of the show, we were sick of chocolate.
We went back to D's apartment (yes, my parents went and hung out in my boyfriend's <200 sq ft apartment) and crashed. We then had immense difficulty hailing a cab to take us to dinner on the Lower East Side at My Favorite Restaurant in NYC. I am so happy to have a favorite restaurant. The Parents enjoyed it.
We then headed back to my apartment where we hung out, watched some of Top Secret, and then went to bed early.
It was a wonderful day - beautiful weather, The Parents' very first cab ride in NYC!, snakes made out of cans, chocolate chocolate chocolate, Italian food, good conversation, hugs from Parents. Life is good.
When they arrived on Saturday, they said "We don't want to do much walking (since Father is on crutches) so we aren't going to come to The Cans." I said "Well, that's fine. You guys can stay here but I am going to see The Cans."
I was referring to Canstruction, which is a contest wherein teams design huge objects out of canned goods and bottles and other foods that will then be donated to various hunger-ending charities. Awesome! I was not going to miss it because of The Parents.
Mother said "Well, ok, I wouldn't mind just staying in your apartment and relaxing."
"OK, that's cool," I said. "But you guys will have to meet us at The Chocolate Show afterwards because it doesn't make any sense for me to come and get you."
"Oh. How will get there?" I explained that it was a very easy cab ride and that I would give them my keys to lock up and would call them when D and I had finished looking at The Cans.
"Ummm..."
"We'll come!" Father declared.
Hah. I know them far too well. I knew the mere mention of their taking a cab alone would be enough to make them my slaves for the day! Mwa ha ha!!!
We left my apartment and it was a bit colder than I'd anticipated, so I said "You guys wait here while I run upstairs and change my coat. We'll get a cab when I come back down." You can imagine my surprise when, upon my return to the sidewalk, my parents had hailed a cab on their own! I said "What!? How did you guys do this?" Turned out a cab just stopped because he saw Father standing there with crutches, but still! I was so proud of them!!!
We met D at the Design Center and had a fabulous time. It definitely would have been easier had one of us not been on crutches, but it didn't really matter. We just took an elevator from floor to floor. The Canstructions were all adorable. Some were better than others. Many had cute puns on "Can" in the title, although I can't remember any of them and already threw out the list of names. Drat!
Anyway, here are some photos:
Empire State Building
Music Notes
Rubics Cube
Rose
Rocket
The Guggenheim
IPod (this one, along with a bunch of others, had fallen down shortly after being assembled... so sad!)
Lotus (Mother voted for this one for People's Choice)
Wave (Father and I voted for this one)
Cobra
Penguins
King Kong (and please note Mrs. Butterworth in his hand! Awesome!!!)
Pirate Ship (and please note life preserver made of LifeSavers as well as the usage of Chips Ahoy! and Pirate Booty... argggghhhhhhhh!)
PacMan
I didn't take photos of everything, but feel free to vote for your favorite for the My Mundane Life In Song Reader's Choice Award!
D and I were inspired. D said "We must enter next year!" and even came up with an awesome idea for an entry. Our enthusiasm died, though, when we considered how many canned goods you'd need to practice with and how much space you'd need to practice. So I guess we won't enter. Sadness.
After Canstruction, the four of us grabbed a cab and headed to The Chocolate Show. I don't have any photos from The Chocolate Show because I was far too busy stuffing my face with amazing free samples. Dear god. I bought some orange-flavored dark chocolate and some chocolate-covered potato sticks. D bought a collection of gourmet peanut butter - six different kinds, including white chocolate peanut butter and cinnamon raisin peanut butter! Does life get any better?
We wanted to buy more, but by the end of the show, we were sick of chocolate.
We went back to D's apartment (yes, my parents went and hung out in my boyfriend's <200 sq ft apartment) and crashed. We then had immense difficulty hailing a cab to take us to dinner on the Lower East Side at My Favorite Restaurant in NYC. I am so happy to have a favorite restaurant. The Parents enjoyed it.
We then headed back to my apartment where we hung out, watched some of Top Secret, and then went to bed early.
It was a wonderful day - beautiful weather, The Parents' very first cab ride in NYC!, snakes made out of cans, chocolate chocolate chocolate, Italian food, good conversation, hugs from Parents. Life is good.
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