I hate meeting friends of people I’ve barely started dating. Manhattan is a teeny tiny island so this happens more often than you might think. I’m on a first or second date and, oh, my date knows that couple over there so have to go say hi. Fuck. As we walk over, I take a breath and assume the role of Perfect Girlfriend Material.
The curtain goes up when my date exclaims, “Hey guys!” they turn around and I throw myself into a performance I’ve workshopping for years. Working title: “Nice to Meet You: A Delightful Display of Humor, Cleverness, and Good Looks! This Gal’s the Total Package!” I perform as if all my date’s friends are Ben Brantley, the notorious NY Times theatre critic. I crave 5 star reviews, “Dude, she was so great! We both loved her! You better not fuck this one up, bro, we’re already planning a myriad of adorable double dates for the four of us!” Read More
These kids set up their table on a corner in Tribeca. Look at that tray, look at that pitcher, look at that DECORATIVE BASIL . That wooden box of napkins in the background actually says LEMONADE. I’m not exaggerating when I claim this lemonade stand to be fancier than any cafe in the Midwest. Fuck “rice crispy treats”, these children have “Brown Butter Crispy Treats”. Read More
Do you want to get back to the earth? Get down and dirty? Feel a strong urge to clutch a sharp, pointy object and smash it repeatedly into something soft? You can do all this and more if you volunteer at Brooklyn Bridge Park!
Saturday Morning Volunteering with Brooklyn Bridge Park Conservancy
I looked out my window last night and this is what I saw:
Way up in Harlem, over 200 blocks away, the 9/11 Tribute shone bright. So did the moon.
I sat at my window and thought of all the people who lost their lives 15 years ago. I stared at the moon and thought of bravery and courage and rebuilding. At the tippy top of the beam of light, I could see two stars and I made a wish on each of them. For the first responders, people who lost their lives, for the loved ones who still feel gaping ground zero holes in their hearts every day. Read More
Come child, come sit on my knee and I’ll tell you a story of the olden days.
Long ago- before Ubers roamed the streets, when only rich nerds had iPhones- way back then, people got excited for first dates.
I imagine telling this story to my 21-year-old co-worker who is fresh out of undergrad. She’d probably shriek and fall off my knee, “OMG LOL no way! That never happened IRL, only in the movies!”
Here in 2016, first dates are chores. “Ugh, tonight I have to pick up toilet paper and go on a first date.” Let’s be honest, sometimes the choice between two-ply and extra soft is more stimulating than first date conversation.
First date butterflies are on the endangered species list.
I haven’t had a first day of school in almost a decade fuck I’m old. Even so, there’s still something about Labor Day that makes me want all new notebooks and a fresh supply of colored pencils. Something that makes me wonder if maybe this is the year the popular kids finally notice me. It makes me want a new look, one rad enough that everyone forget what a dork I was last year!
I took my blog back-to-school shopping this weekend. What do you think, cool kids? I hope you like it!
It’s the last week of summer. We’re all feeling the time-crunch to get in one last beach day, one more wear of our adorable romper (that might be out of style next July), a final iced coffee before Pumpkin Spice Takeover. If you’re a giant theatre geek like me, you may feel a hollow emptiness you can’t quite explain. For the true Theatre Nerd, it isn’t summer unless you see a production of Midsummer. If you’re in NYC for Labor Day weekend, Gorilla Rep Theater‘s outdoor production in Washington Square Park can make these Midsummer Night’s Dreams come true.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Washington Square Park
The back drop is sometimes the Washington Square Park arch. Read More
I hate ghosting. This plague on modern romance is the bane of my single existence. My loathing is so strong, I’m thinking of organizing an Anti-Ghosting rally in Times Square. We’ll carry signs and everyone with think we’re promoting the month old Ghostbusters flick.
DON’T PLAY DEAD, BE ALIVE! STOP GHOSTING, AMERICA!
2-4-6-8 WHY CAN’T YOU COMMUNICATE?
What do we want? WORDS! When do we want ’em? WHEN YOU BREAK UP WITH US!
It’s that time of year when I eat ice cream as often as I can. Because WINTER IS COMING. When I heard a Museum of Ice Cream pop-up exhibit was in NYC, coinciding perfectly with my annual binge, I had to get! Metaphorical winter is already here: the museum is completely sold out for its entire limited run. Freeze my sweet, giddy heart! Unless you are among the few, the happy few who bought tickets early, you’ll never make it inside the museum of sugary, frozen bliss.
“I’m a New York blogger! I can’t miss the most blog-worthy NYC event of the summer!” I ‘screamed. Then, being the social media maven I am, I worked some Twitter magic. I got myself a ticket.Read More