Friday, November 28, 2008

Woods

Monday, November 24, 2008

Stars

The one question that I get asked over and over is… have you ever seen anybody famous? The long awaited answer to that question is a big, fat YES.

Here is a rundown of the celebs that I have seen, met, or stalked from a legal distance (and in no particular order):

- Colin Farrell (walking on the Upper East Side)
- America Ferrera (at the Boat Basin restaurant)
- Cameron Diaz (singing karaoke at Sing Sing bar)
- Ashton Kutcher (with Cameron Diaz)
- Cynthia Nixon (outside our subway stop)
- Francis McDormand (neighbor in adjacent building)
- Mischa Barton (chased her through Central Park)
- Seal (shopping in SOHO)
- Kevin Bacon (in Midtown on my way to the social security office)
- John Slattery (in the West Village)
- Bebe Neuwirth (asked her for directions)
- Kristen Chenoweth (on cell phone outside Buttercup Bake Shop)
- Amber Tamblyn (at the Upright Citizen's Brigade)

Ben also felt compelled to add a few names to the list of people that he’s seen around NYC:

- Denzel Washington
- Kirsten Dunst
- Michael J. Fox
- Woody Allen
- Flavor Flav
- Gavin Rosedale
- Gwen Stefani

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Secrets Don't Make Friends

Ben relaxed on the bed and read as I chatted on the phone with a girlfriend about 20 feet away. I holed up in the bathroom with the door shut to achieve as much privacy as possible. For about 30 minutes, we unloaded about “men”. We talked about the good and the bad, but mostly just the bad.

I emerged from the bathroom after our conversation… reborn and a little lighter from the release of stresses and annoyances that build from living with someone in 300 square feet of space.

I moseyed toward the bed and Ben rolled to face me. He had this are-you-serious look on his face. Uh-oh. I nervously giggled and quickly recalled the things I said. I could have been talking about anybody… right? Or, about men in general, not him specifically? Right?

Yikes. A pressed wood door and a little distance just isn’t enough to keep secrets in a teeny, tiny studio. It might be time to upgrade.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Nice Hog

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Made of Money

We dragged ourselves to the subway at Penn Station around 8:30pm on Saturday. As we walked, a boy selling fruit rollups jumped in our way and begged us to buy fruit rollups to help his basketball team raise money. The deal - two for $5 or three for $10. The math didn’t quite add up, but I was impressed with his entrepreneurial skills and productivity on a Saturday night.

I gave him a dollar for the great sales pitch and caught up with a laughing Ben. He shook his head. He couldn’t believe that I fell for the kid’s routine.

“Weak,” he said.

Two minutes later, an aspiring rapper named “Hip Hop Obama” persuaded Ben to fork over $10 for his CD, “Dollarmentary as Amero Dollar, Vol. 1”. He even autographed it for no additional charge.

I stood, dumbfounded, as Ben spent 10x the amount I donated to a kid who only wanted basketballs and uniforms! I snapped a picture of Hip Hop Obama and Ben with my cell phone, a complementary gift with purchase the of a CD, and we continued our walk to Penn.

Suckers.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Backyard



View from the back.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Ben in Tunnel

Monday, November 3, 2008

Love Is All You Need

Last week, I had an early morning meeting and took the 3 train downtown, a very different morning commute compared to my usual trip uptown to Harlem.

The doors opened at 72nd street; I squeezed onto the train and into the middle of straight-faced New Yorkers outfitted with business suits and briefcases. The morning commuters squished into every open space, creating a solid mass of bodies. With no pole in reach, I locked my legs and braced myself for the lurching and jerking of the train. But, I was no match for the 3 train.

With every twist and turn, I toppled into a random man’s very large, very rotund stomach – a pretty comfortable landing pad considering the other options that surrounded me. And, like a true New Yorker, I avoided eye contact and pretended that consistently falling face first into his belly button was normal.

Then, ever so faintly, in the silence of the packed train, music from his headphones drifted my way… “All You Need Is Love” by the Beatles played, a perfect melody for this New York train.