Today's Dog!

This dog has not been Photoshopped (though he might wish he had been). I believe his name is "Tiny." He's a shivery little thing but he did try to climb my leg (like my cat does) which I believe indicates some level of happiness. At least I'd like to think so. The funny thing is, so many of these dog people know each other. I showed Tiny's owner a picture of the last dog (I forgot his name so we'll call him "Cookie") and she's like, "oh yeah, that's Sam's dog, Cookie!" Something like that but it made me feel like part of a community (without having to deal with doggy business).

Wrapup from Maine coming soon.

Going with Google.. for now

We did an experiment today comparing Bing and Google. We searched for "Mouse Island Maine." Pretty straightforward, right? Bing returned 2,750,00 results, with the second one being "Naked Photos in Mouse Island, Maine, United States - World's Largest Site for Sex Seekers, Swingers, & Adult Dating!" Um, ew.

Google returned 271,000 results and all on the first page are about, well, Mouse Island, Maine.
Going with Google. For now.


Plus one link led to MyTopo, which seems cool if you're into custom maps.

* * *

Spent last two of a four-hour stint (the last until Fall) reading at the Lighthouse -- another lovely session with Dr. Richard Smith, noted African musicologist. I might have encountered him in Brooklyn if I'd managed to attend the Fema Kuti (son of Fela) concert this week, as he did and I had meant to. Darn. We went over latest pages of his book (nearly up to 300 pages) which is just fascinating and really well written. I volunteered to help with the second-phase editing process and he noted my interest on his ever-present tape recorder -- so here's hoping; I'd be honored.

First two hours were spent with W. and his new iPhone. The accessibility features (Apple's VoiceOver) are rather impressive. We also explored how to develop iPhone apps.

Bought a copy of Italo Calvino's The Baron in the Trees to re-read so Sunday is: laundry, gym, and arboreal fantasy.

Today's Dog!

I can't bear how I can't make this page not look like something the cat threw up. I know I could if I tinkered with the html but I just don't have the patience. Apologies... again.

You know when I post just pictures of dogs that I'm not really inspired or happy. And, unlike most people around here it's NOT the weather. My newfound paparrazo friend has disappeared but I did meet a very nice man after finding his license on the street and googling him and finding his old hedge fund company and leaving a message which was passed on to him post-haste. Love that.. He's Iranian and likes to party. Hence the lost (and found) license.

Found a great clothing boutique, Runway Soho (425 Broome St.) where they will alter designs to your liking (at least, in my case, remove epaulettes and make a medium shirt) for the original price and done, supposedy, within a week or so. How cool!


Read to W. yesterday about algorithms and sorting: bubble sort and selection sort and insertion sort. It's all very, very theoretical to me (which I like) and I think I've learned the best way to sort my books and socks, algorithmically speaking. We avoided the actual code (which I don't like so much, especially reading aloud). We tired of sorting after a while so we browsed through audible.com's selection of spy novels (Vincent Flynn, Gayle Lynds). I tried to talk W. out of applying to the CIA before he gets his masters but he's chomping at the bit.

Listening to: Markus Shafer, Miene Seele ruhmt und preist: Aria. Just beautiful.

Sunday: SoHo Streets

Wednesday Morning, 3 am

Okay, 6:00 am. Morning run and promised morning photo. Note to self: don't run with camera anymore. I started a new regimen today, which has only one rule: sweat before 7 am. Every day. Today it was a run up along the Hudson, not terribly far, and then a long walk back through the far West Village. Tomorrow it could be jump roping inside ... you get the idea.

There's something really empowering about feeling like you've actually done something before 7 am. The rest of the day is gravy. Photo: from the weekend, drinks and french fries and friends at the Frying Pan boat/restaurant on the Hudson. Jeff Goldblum made an appearance, though not at our table exactly. Just... past it. Didn't matter -- the view is spectacular, with the Statue of Liberty in the distance, down river. The other photo is from morning run.

Two weekends in NYC

I'm learning how to just "be" thanks to friends in the neighborhood who are really good at it. Just "being" means going to a cafe and just sitting around talking... for hours at a time. I generally get antsy after about twenty minutes but I set a personal record this last weekend. We normally go to Oscar on Sullivan Street, which is convenient, comfortable and has the nicest staff. The food is pretty good but the sidewalk tables are the big draw.

We also were treated to brunch on S. rooftop where we fried under the spring sun and drank champagne and ate bread and cheese and lovely omelettes (how on earth does one spell that?). Good fun and another exercise in just being (and being hot, to boot).

After being for some time, we got off our butts and checked out the renovated Washington Square Park. It was marginally nicer, though it got mixed reviews from the group.

Okay okay

Yes, it's been a while. That's because I was just having too much fun. I'm throwing in pictures of the fun, from a weekend in Maine to two weekends in NYC. The time in Maine was really nice, good weather and a fun time with P. & J. and T. and of course the parents. Who were learning their new computer. From scratch. I heartily applaud their concentration, patience and equanimity as they struggled to master the universe of Windows. Having a Mac helped but it wasn't easy. I didn't make it easy for them, either, starting them out on email with Gmail. Yikes. But I think they're getting it.

Other highlights included watching a humming bird, rescuing a bird who hit the window (P. kindly gave it a moment to clear its little bird-brain of its concussion, verify that its little neck or legs weren't broken and well, watch the video to see the outcome. More highlights included ice-cream at Round Top and wonderful vacation food (hamburgers, hotdogs) at the great Larson's Lunchbox in Damariscotta.

Mom made a lobster feast, of course, but I didn't have any and T. ate all the Dinosaur Chicken Finger things. Oh well. Good diet. Plus I ran a few miles (that's "ran" not walked, thank you very much).

I love how Obama keeps watch over the Thompson family kitchen.

Ann in the Morning

So here's yesterday's picture from the morning, before I passed my neighbor Ann but after I had almost made my new neighbor cry (mentioning pets; he had to leave his dog behind when he moved). Ann takes care of my cats when I'm away. She's a pip. She has more energy than most people I know -- and that's after being run over by a minivan a few months ago.

Can't wait to get to Maine tomorrow. I know we're doing the lobster thing on Saturday (nobody ever remembers I don't like lobster but that's okay. I like it ... enough.) If I'm lucky we'll go kayaking with Pete and I must walk the land to figure out where I'm going to actually build my treehouse house.

More on Paris... pics uploaded

Someone asked me yesterday if I'm a "visual" person or a "word" person. I couldn't answer. But I found while starting this post that I was at a loss for words until I stuck a picture in.

That was one mean waitress. I ate the best steak entrecote of my life while she ignored me the entire time and when I left it was the first time I was sad in Paris. Dining alone isn't that fun.

Now I'm back in NYC eating cold edamame on a beautiful Sunday, delaying the weeks of laundry I need to deal with.

My new goal is to post a picture a day, one taken while walking to work through SoHo and Tribeca. Here's one from last week. Keith Hernandez weirdly painted on some scaffolding.

One more picture from France (Versailles)... and many more here.

Paris

Paris this time around was wonderful. Traveling alone is the way to go: no pressure. It was a true vacation: woke up late, had coffee on the terrace of my dear friends P. and S. apartment, wandered all over at my own pace.

Had some good meals, ate and drank and talked with good friend and amazing woman (and now Parisian) E. for the last (late) night out, took a train to the mind-altering Chateau Versailles (wow, just, wow), caught a Calder/Kandinsky exhibit at Beaubourg, explored a new neighborhood (Bastille and north), bought tons of cool things (nothing terribly expensive), can say I've been to Dublin (the airport), flirted with one guy (I need the practice!), did not find mon amour and that's okay. Saw Victor Hugo's old place, drank too much wine and felt misérable until the sun came out and the sky turned a true French blue and the clouds were impossibly white and puffy and I thought, wow, I could totally live here.

Notes: There's as much bad fashion in Paris as in New York. Possibly more, given the Parisian : tourist ratio. Also, the French produce more over-the-top cuckamonga advertising than even America.



The French inexplicably drink instant coffee.

The French can be incredibly generous and good-humored.

May Day is to be avoided, unless you have something to celebrate or protest. Shops closed, museums closed. My favorite day. I spent it just walking with no agenda whatsoever. Thought about Sacre Coeur but... too far. Wound up having a phenomenal lunch north and west of the Louvre somewhere (salmon carpaccio and green salad). Discovered my new favorite designer-I-can't-afford: Anne Fontaine. In a funny coincidence, I just found her SoHo store today by accident.

Five years ago I bought my favorite earrings (green resin circles on pewter) in a tiny storefront in Paris somewhere near my all-time favorite department store, BHV. It's no longer there (the little store), not surprisingly. On my walking day (logged about six miles) this time I passed another tiny jewelry store in the Marais district and something caught my eye in the window and when I walked in I discovered it was the same store -- Tam Tam -- in a different place, still owned by the same woman). Sweet.

My French is infinitely better than I thought. One just has to pronounce properly, thoughtfully and con brio. It helps to sound a little desperate and exasperated.

Best area for last-minute gifts: Rue de Rivoli east of St. Paul metro stop on south side.

That's all for now. If you more details, you'll have to offer me a nice glass of Côtes du Rhône. Check back.. Flickring photos soon. A bientot.

Random Reportings

Finally, Friday. Though it just means that more work looms on the horizon: moving the 300+ books my mother painstakingly dusted and moved and organized, since the new sofa is unlikely to be squeezed past the near end of it. DANG.

Painting the bathroom again in that lovely shade of sunny yellow that makes me look like I'm 37% better-looking to myself than I really am (don't want to think too much about that.)

The only music I can listen to while doing all this stuff is the Beatles and James Taylor's funkier stuff ("Honey, Don't Leave L.A.")

I didn't even mention the coolest thing, from a couple weeks ago. Was lucky enough to attend the Food & Wine magazine's 2009 Best New Chefs event at the great City Winery space. Star sightings: from Top Chef, that cute Italian guy and the bald guy who won and his gal-pal on the show. Plus Harold Dieterle from Season One and Ethan Suplee, the ... slow guy from "My Name is Earl." The food was ... there aren't words. You can read more at the Food & Wine page or New York magazine.

My life in bullet points

Oh shut up. Just be glad it's not another freaking PowerPoint, right? Okay. Going backward... tough day with Tribeca Film Festival and total, massive online rejection of any ticket-buying joy.

Current guilty-pleasure reading: The Straw Men by Michael Marshall. "Brilliantly written and scary as hell" -- Stephen King.

Easter in Harlem: wow. just wow. Riverside Church is gorgeous. But you knew that. Mom dragged me there and for me just being in an above-ground subway train in Harlem was WAY COOL. I know I sound like I'm 12. But that's what church does to you. The waaaaay long service was oddly punctuated with opportunities for people to grab your hand and that would've been jake if the lady next to me hadn't grabbed a mini -bottle of hand sanitizer right after giving me my paw back after three verses of Amazing Grace with totally made-up lyrics. No disrespect.

Maine in March...

Plus ca change....

Instead of going to the gym I'm scanning old photos. It's very.... aggravating and slow, truth be told. My scanner is my non-printing printer which is ridiculous since its such a behemoth.

Meanwhile, it's a cool, sunny Sunday and I'm in the middle of renovating my apartment. Step one: move ginormo bookcase that I found on the street (how on EARTH did I get it home alone? I'm so impressed!) out of the bedroom and into the livingroom where it looks very nice against the dusky blue wall. Next step: move all the books (around 350) and arrange in the way that makes me look the smartest.

I do not know why my mother thought it was okay to send me off to first grade in a dress that short. I guess that explains why I was so popular. I remember that pencil-box with such fondness. The shoes? Not so much. Yikes.

Birdland

So, yeah, I've not posted in a while because I went to Maine and wanted to post photos but couldn't find my camera so bought two cheapy throw-aways and took great pics but haven't gotten them processed. "Processed." Can you imagine.

I'll highlight the highlights from my most recent Maine trip. I spotted a mink. No, in the wild! In the front yard! Well, more like "over yonder" and I didn't really know it was a mink at the time. I thought fox, first, then otter. It sinewed blackly on the white expanse of snow about 200 yards from me, went down to the pond but not in, and then silkily scurried back up the hill and away. P. informed me, after my description of the creature, that it was a mink, though it might have been a fisher (the woodland animal that ate some of our cats in my childhood. We think.) I

I thought I had another moment of nature's miracleness when I watched a wood pecker in the tree I used to climb (it got so tall! I got so old!!) and then observed a bunch of chickadees also pecking, at the lilac bush in front of the house. J. informed me that that's normal, they're just also pecking for wood bugs. Like there's not a totally full bird-feeder right there on the terrace. Hello? Greedy little bastards.