To preface my review, I’d like to note that Shawn, Anne, Steph, and I had the most approproate sighting ever at the theater. Simon Doonan (in a black [possibly faux] fur coat, obviously) and Jonathan Adler arrived fashionably on time (unlike Anne and I, who arrived 50 minutes early) and were forced to sit in the front row, as the show was sold out last Saturday evening. [There seems to be some debate about whether Simon was in a fur coat, because Shawn likes to argue. I stand by my story and I request that Simon contact me with the nature of his coat immediately.] Continue reading
So everyone is pretty up in arms over the box-office success of Beverly Hills Chihuahua. How did a movie like this possibly make it to number one, besides the fact that there aren’t any other no-thinking-required movies out during this economic panic and people really don’t like to think during times of crisis? Besides the other fact that kids like to see stupid movies, and while adults might be cutting back on spending, they might still be willing to splurge on a movie for the kids because it’s easier to take them to a movie then have to explain the impending apocalypse? Yes, besides those things, how did this movie dupe so many people into seeing it? Continue reading
You can’t go home again and all that stuff. An essay about getting rid of the childhood possessions that weighed me down. Continue reading
Within days of my mom dying, Mike and I were moved into the already-cramped three bedroom house which was currently holding four people. Mike occupied the basement while I lived in the sun room (with enough room for a twin bed, small TV, and bed stand)—the former computer room which was a go-between space connecting the dining room to the closed-in porch. Continue reading
I took the W on my way downtown to Battery Park and a homeless man was cleaning himself methodically in the seats diagonal to mine. Take off shoe, take off sock, wipe, clean. Somewhere around City Hall, he took out an air freshener and sprayed the air above, around, and underneath him, and I thought, “How lovely, how considerate.” The smell of fake-summer (gardenia, freesia, aerosol) made its way to my seat and I wished that I could know his life. That I could know and change his life.