i heart all of ny

Last week, the unthinkable happened. Was it the begining of Sodom and Gamora? Would we really have to gather the creatures two by two? Or was some level of cosmic consciousness involved when they released Bruce Almighty that caused city-wide flooding, causing the subway system to come to a screeching halt?
Unless you were living under a rock, or your very own biodome, you knew there was a problem with mass transit caused by flooding in the Financial District. However, while it seemed the world was drowning and canoe seemed the only logical form of transit, I saw, yet again, human spirit alive and well in this city.
The morning breeze gently blew in soggy whispers in the wee hours of dawn, and I sleepily shut the window closed as I resignedly slipped under the crisp Egyptian cotton sheets. It was roasting just the night before, but there was some comfort in hearing the pitter of rain. Back to bed I went, lazily thinking, “I’ll run tomorrow”. Never in my consciousness did I think that there was trouble brewing beneath the streets.
I walked out of my home in the morning, ready to begin my routine. I bumped in to a handsome man, who came right up to me and told me that I should know, that if I am thinking of using the subway, not to bother. It took him ½ an hour to get out of the subway. There was no chance that the subways were running. They were all under water.
It seemed too strange to be a made up story, and I as I took his word for it, I almost floated by the chaotic line to get IN to the subway. Most people were in a robotic fog, and where forcing their way down jammed staircases while others were screaming “the subway is OUT OF SERVICE! Don’t bother!” It was then that I began to see my city, as if it were for the first time.
Quaint tree-lined sidewalks, ordinarily barren at this time, were filled with pedestrians. Door men walked out of their towers, to see and interact with people who were walking south. Many pedestrians called out in neighborly ways, making sure that others knew that they were aware of the subway problems. This walk, as pleasant as could be, had the best of New York. The best park in the world, fountains in honor of Venus de Milo, production crews assembling to film SEX IN THE CITY-THE MOVIE, joggers and designer dogs, joggers, Horse-drawn carriages, coffee trucks and smoothies to go, mobile creperies making their way to prime real estate, all seemed to flow in a rhythm that was silently trudging ahead.
Was it my perception of a silent and friendly City which had colored my view, ever so slightly with a rose hue, or is this really New York, and the reason why I love it so?

Labels: new york, Recent News, Rumi, subway

Horoscope or horse-schiite

Often, it's necessary to dig in a different direction...especially in New York...and most especially after you have had your ass handed to you on numerous occasions.

Cut to: reading a newspaper and fixing your gaze on something that tells you "Associate only with those who are positive thinkers and who want to advance their lives". Seems simple enough, eh?

Add to that: burned out New Yorker, looking for a balm to cure that sun starved itch. Enter: new 'hot spot' complete with swim up bar.
I was invited by a dancer friend who told me that this was a party that could not be missed. So, off I went, with bikini in tow, and had a really lovely evening hanging out with beautiful people....drunk and not.

I had it in my mind to have a great time, and so it was. What I found most valuable, though, was not the smoking-hot boys, or the ultra cool women but the absolute vacation in midtown vibe. Transported for a few hours, I found a type of bonding that I had been missing. There were other people who actually parroted what I was thinking: it's nice to make a human connection, isn't it?

Indeed 'tis, indeed 'tis....

Labels: Boys, new york, Rumi, sobriety

Celebrity, celosia and celibacy at Tribeca Film Festival '07

I was at the Tribeca Film Festival opening night. A launch party for a little film that a friend of mine was in. It was not as glamorous as certain high level movies by casa de Weinstein, but it was enough to make me want to cry out in anxiety all night. This ‘small scale’ event attracted big names in Mexican cinema and some actors that I haven’t met, but have seen and respect. They were all there, all swarmed by people, all being adored. I stood behind, watching in utter fascination. How much longer would it be before that was me? Is that what I even wanted? I saw the caterers go by, with their trays of delectable treats. One by one, the treats were turned down, in exchange for the smiles and looks of unending adoration and phrases filled with praise.

The event was supposed to celebrate a friend of mine who was in the film. I was dressed to the nines, as they say, and should have been glowing from the excitement of being in the ‘inner circle’…or closer to it, anyway, but all I could think about was what I was not getting. Even yesterday when asked what the name of the film was, or where we went after, I drew a blank, because all I was focused on was my inadequacies and how far away I was from where I wanted to be, and how my date was getting more attention than I was. With all of these self-hating thoughts floating through my head, I turned to other thoughts.

It is amazing how much money goes in to these events. This was not even the A-list party, and the wait staff alone tipped the bill over in to the thousands. Each person must have spent, I don’t know, $200 at least, just to walk out of their door.

That took about two seconds. I went back to analyzing the events of the night. Cute boy. Check. That feels good. Film festival. Check. That feels good, too. Jealousy over actors in the lime light. Um, not-so-good. Feeling sorry for myself for having to take the back seat on this one, instead of being the guest of honor. Um, danger? Bad territory in the head. The amount of parties I must have missed in a life time due to bad decisions from my past life. Ugh. Get off this train of thought. The amount of tall blonder white women at that event and how badly I feel about my body when I compare it to people who have had plastic surgery and designer work-outs/meals. Danger, danger!!!! Approaching dangerous ground…will implode in 5, 4, 3, 2…!!!

How often do I go for the things that destroy me? The minute I began to obsess about the things that I did NOT have, the tapestry of my inner happiness began to unravel. By remembering that I can get off that run away train and be in the moment…I can approach terra firma and live. I chose to obsess over my date’s perfect lips and how they would meet mine by the end of the night. Celibacy be damned, celibacy be damned!

Labels: Boy Stories, Celebrity, celibacy, Internet Dating, new york, Rumi, sobriety, tribeca film festival