From Cewebrity! (we love to love ’em) to this (we love to hate ’em):
courtesy of Hugh at Gaping Void
I’m off to Fire Island for the weekend — have a good one!
Author: Laren
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The Spectrum
courtesy of Hugh at Gaping Void -
He’s Gonna Have One Hell of a Hangover
From my friend Rob this morning: “I would get along with this bear.” Perhaps we should invite him to join the wine
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A Picture is Worth . . .
Because I know that’s what you really want, anyway. The fun part about going out with bloggers, even if it’s just a casual night out for wings, is that whatever silly, goofy thing you do, it’s all over the internet the next day.
The wings per person consumption chart.
Some of the lovely ladies who blog.
And Joe, I love, love, love the chart.
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Getting Ready for our Republican Visitors
Saw this while walking down 7th Avenue yesterday — it was being put up by “Steel Workers for John Kerry.”
Later that night, ran into Augie who was sporting his own political statement.We’re ready for you republican types. How do ya like them apples?!
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There’s a Party in my Panties!
And you’re all invited! Join me for “There’s a Party in my Panties!” — an evening of cocktails and vintage lingerie at the Tainted Lady Lounge. Tainted Lady Lounge, 318 Grand Street, Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Thursday, August 19, 2004, 8:00 PM. Sponsored by Hottpants, Nichelle Newsletter, and the Vicar’s Vice. Click here to RSVP and I’ll see you there.
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Weekend Update
First of all, wanted to share two articles this week in NYC press that piqued my interest. First, the Village Voice’s Butt Seriously, identifying “white girls with big butts” as the new “in” look. Well that’s a relief. For me, it’s sure cheaper than buying a trendy poncho or one of those maternity-looking tops that seem to be all the rage — I’ve already got one handy. Second, Newsday’s Open Door Policy on doormen hooking up their single tenants. Now, I tip my doormen as much as I can reasonably afford, and I certainly don’t have them pimping for me. Note to self: try to save more cash for holiday tips.
Last night, I had the pleasure of meeting my “outer” at Lindsay’s blackout anniversary party. He seems to be a pretty nice, laid back guy, despite the goth makeup (he was sort of tricked into wearing goth makeup, actually — some degree of confusion about whether or not it was a costume party. The hostess had a fantastic blonde wig that she wanted to wear . . .). You can see his photo gallery from the party here — and yes, I’m wearing a pink prom dress (the one from New Year’s Eve).
Today, I’m off to Blues, BBQ & Fireworks to snarf some ribs. Check out Gothamist Food tomorrow for the full report.
UPDATE: I forgot to mention two more highlights of the weekend, which I wanted to include, at least for posterity’s sake. First, I had dinner at my baby brother’s new crib in Brooklyn — he cooked a kick-ass salmon with a pecan crust (need that recipe). Second, I had a surprise out-of-town visitor who took me to the Lebowskifest at the Knitting Factory. Now, I felt like a bit of a fraud, as I have only seen The Big Lebowski once, but I had a great time nonetheless, with drunk guys (there was about a 4-to-1 male/female ratio) quoting lines all around me. Definitely need to rent that one again soon.
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One Time at Band Camp . . . *
Cewebrity or not, we’ve already discussed the fact that I’m a dork. I sang in an a cappella group in college, I covet strange tecno-gadgets, I think Dodgeball is a fun way to meet up with people, and I write for not one, but two blogs (this one and Gothamist Food). But there’s one more morsel of dorkiness hidden in my past — I went to and worked at a music and arts camp for about six years. Yep — band camp. The Aaron Copland Music and Arts Program (or ACMAP, as we all call it) was a county-run music and arts camp in North Salem, NY. You had to audition or submit a portfolio to get in, and we spent a significant portion of our days rehearsing and polishing our crafts — drama, singing, painting, dancing — you name it. Like any six-week overnight camp filled with 13 to 18 year olds, it was also a blast. I had many of my “firsts” there, like my first french kiss, and the first time I realized that a friend was not worth losing over a guy. That friend, like many others I made there, are still part of my life to this day, and so it was with great anticipation that I went to our ACMAP reunion this past weekend.
Gary & Jen, a couple who actually met at camp and later got married, held a barbecue at their house up in Westchester. It was wonderful to see so many people, some of whom I hadn’t seen in easily a decade, if not more. We came to the shocking realization that, for many of us, our first year at camp was twenty years ago. Twenty years!! Good lord. We got to share stories, engage in revisionist history regarding the stolen van, meet people’s kids, and hear through the grapevine where our fellow ACMAP-ers have ended up. Gary and Jen now have a daughter, who is already forbidden from attending overnight camp. “We know what goes on at camp — she’ll never go!”
You can see the rest of the pictures here. And if you’re a long-lost ACMAP person — shoot me an email!
* Blatantly stolen from American Pie. And no, I didn’t do that at band camp.
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I’ve Been Outed
Yes, it’s true. I’ve been outed. Not sure what to make of this, but as long as it brings in traffic, it’s okay by me.
Outed C-list cewebrity: Laren Sweet Blog o’ Mine. It’s so weird, it’s like a whole cewebrity subworld going on right before our eyes, yet we can’t see it. They go to the places cewebrities go to, talk about the things cewebrities talk about, but are, like, not cewebrities. They’re just bloggers! Laren fits the self-imposed description of a cewebrity (“I’m a thirty-something, semi-hip, semi-dorky chick living life in NYC. Taking it one day at a time.”), except maybe the thirty-something part, and she’s missing the “Oh, and I AM BETTER THAN YOU and BLOGS ARE SO OVER!” at the end. But mostly. You know. She openly uses (and meets strangers from) dodgeball.com, and even lists “blogging” as one of her interests. It’s like a big breath of fresh air, compounded with the same dull chatter that all of us pollute our bandwith with.
Badass chick blogger one day, and only a c-list cewebrity the next. Just a blogger. Sniffle. Ah, fame is elusive. Please excuse me while I hurl myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Wait — maybe a c-list cewebrity is a step up. Hmm . . . the blogosphere is so confusing. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually. In the meantime, I’ll see you at Lindsay’s party!
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Why Doesn’t Verizon Have This?!
Via Cell, Help’s on the Way for Bad Dates — Lord knows I would have used this at least one or two times in the past . . .
When the cell rings, one of Cingular’s eight “emergency” messages says: “Hey, this is your Escape-A-Date call. If you’re looking for an excuse, I got it. Just repeat after me, and you’ll be on your way! ‘Not again! Why does that always happen to you? … All right, I’ll be right there.’ Now tell ’em that your roommate got locked out, and you have to go let them in. Good luck!” And bingo, the bad date is history.
Note: I wouldn’t actually use this — part of dating, at least in New York, is learning how to a) suck it up; b) leave politely if you’re miserable; c) escape quickly using your own skill and creativity. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
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It’s a Small World After All
Friday night, for the second time in a week, I ventured to the Upper West Side. For those of you who know me, you realize that this is somewhat of a big deal — I’m one of those annoying people who rarely goes out above 14th Street, and would sooner haul out to Brooklyn than uptown for whatever reason. Earlier this week I had dinner with two law school friends whom I hadn’t seen (at least together) in ages. Last night, I had dinner with my friend Eric. Eric and I were walking down the street and lo and behold I bump into one of the aforementioned friends and his girlfriend. Jon was stunned that I was on the UWS twice in a week, and Eric commented that virtually every time he’s with me, we run into someone I know. It’s true — I run into people I know all the time. I don’t know if it’s because I just know a lot of people or because I’ve been here for over a decade. [A brief digression — Jon volunteered to organize a trip up to the Blue Hill at Stone Barns, since he has a car — just wanted to memorialize that in writing . . .]
As the evening progressed, I kept running into more and more people. Some of it was planned — after dinner I headed to the Magician on the Lower East Side to meet a friend for a drink. He was there with another blogger I had met earlier in the week. Some of it was less planned — on my way to the bar, I ran into my neighbor, whose band was playing at Luna Lounge — so I had to run over and see the set. When I returned to the bar, I bumped into one of the Speed Sisters, who had tapped my shoulder inadvertently, thinking I was someone else.
Friday night was also my first experience meeting a new person through Dodgeball. I’ve been using it to check in when I go out, and I met up with Nichelle last night because she knew where I was, but last night one of the folks in my “friends of friends” group started text messaging me because I was nearby. On my way back to the Magician from Luna Lounge, I stoped into Pianos, where he was, and introduced myself. So it works!
I finished the night at ‘inoteca — where I hadn’t been in a while. And even though I arrived there just after they stopped serving food, they were kind enough to serve me a little snack because I’m friendly with some of the folks who work there. All in all, a fun, social, people-filled Friday night.
The only downside to a night like that was that it completely derailed my plans for an active Saturday. I ended up relaxing for most of the day, doing a few errands, then staying in and cooking for the evening (the picture is for Tien — I think the crust needed much more salt and I’m still not great at making it round, but it was nice and crispy). Now I’m off to fit in a quick rollerblade or run before I head up to my camp reunion, but more on that later. . .
