The Send Off of All Send Offs

If there is one place that I have walked by week after week, month after month, year after year; it had to be Republic. This noodle restaurant on Union Square West. I was hesitant at first, but after I checked out the menu and consulted with others who had eaten there and raved all about it, I decided on the "#21 Pad Thai Noodles", and was pleasantly pleased with my choice. Delicious. Cheap food, fantastic Asian Sangria, and vegetable dumplings that were to die for. It's funny how the establishments we judge to be too pricey because of the aesthetics outside the building, deter us from experiencing what is on the inside.

This is the spot we chose to have a small intimate going away dinner last night for one of my friends. This lucky duck is packing up and moving on to Spain in a few weeks. After dinner, and after perusing through American Eagle, we headed to "Sundaes and Cones", the ice cream place I recommended, which ended up being a hit. The flavors they have are unique and yumtastic. I turned everyone on to the grapefruit sorbet. Trust me on this folks - it's delectable.

Since we were near St. Mark's Place, A mentioned she had been itching for a belly piercing to match her belly button piercing. We found where she'd gone before; to a place called Addiction. J and K couldn't stomach the idea, so I volunteered to hold A's hand throughout the ordeal; while she got it done by a man who looked eerily like Rasputin. Originally, they thought she wanted what was called a "Christina" (warning strong images!), but thankfully, we corrected that misunderstanding immediately. Plus, we learned a new term for the night. I ended up getting pierced as well -- by A's nails as she squeezed my hand during the procedure! While we were indisposed, J and K went and bought the fedoras we agreed upon earlier they looked great in.

The night was capped off by torrential downpours and a make your own cotton candy machine outside a Chinese restaurant that charges only a buck for the powder. Interesting establishment, with a WANTED poster that featured several Asian men. The sign hung next to the stinky cooking station, where, of course everyone would be looking for criminals on the lamb.

On the way to the subway, we four stepped full on into a huge puddle. In flip flops, no less. It's official, we declared - all of us had to have caught a disease after that cataclysmic mistake.

Where There's Smoke, Not Always Fire

This morning, I finally discovered the source for all the smokey smell which permeated my apartment. It was a building fire, several blocks away, in the other direction from where the smell was eminating. Had I known, I probably would have saved myself, together with some of my fellow tenants, the dramatics of walking several blocks east, in the rain, trying to pinpoint the source.

It wasn't until the next morning on my way to work, that I finally saw where all the activity occurred, and that the building was still smoldering.

Rise of the (ATM?) Machines

This morning, there was an actual robot outside my workplace. Walking and talking. Come to find out, it's for a promotion with a bank. Sort of looks like a newer, sleeker version of Number 5 from Short Circuit.



Ya know, today it's a robot for a bank promotion.

Tomorrow, we're sending a cyborg back in time to save our future unborn leader.

Don't say I didn't warn you folks.

Remembering The Disappeared

Taking a mini-break from the hectic environment that is completing my research paper, for the first time in many years, I finally got to semi-participate in the annual Museum Mile Festival. Yeah! Although it rained and I quickly realized that my transportation opportunities were limited by being up in the early 100's mark of the city's street numbers, I didn't realize upon getting there that all of 5th Avenue was closed down for the event. So, walking in the pouring rain in unfamiliar territory was a bit of a let down to the festivities.

What I really wanted to see was an exhibition at El Museo del Barrio on The Disappeared (Los Desaparecidos), which was nearing the end of its run.

An explanation of the term:

"To disappear was newly defined during the twentieth century military dictatorships in Latin America. 'Disappear' evolved into a transitive verb describing those considered threats to the State who were kidnapped, tortured, and killed by their own military, especially in the 1970s in Argentina, Brazil, Chile, and Uruguay."

My interest in this subject came about accidentally, several years ago, after coming across the book I Remember Julia at the library.

Even if you are not well versed in the stories of The Disappeared, this exhibit pretty much spelled things out. That such a horrifying period of history could produce such impacting art, is in a word - amazing. To read the stories about The Disappeared is one thing, to see artist interpretations is another matter all together. Many of the artists involved were either members of the resistance, survivors themselves, or had known those who had been abducted. Their art depicts the absolute fear, violence, personal loss, mental confusion and torture of this hellish period of time. Although the entire exhibit moved me beyond all imaginable means possible, some of the following really struck a resounding chord inside of me.

*Arturo Duclos' untitled piece of the flag of Chile made up of 75 human femurs screwed together.

*Marcelo Brodsky's Buena Memoria (Good Memory), showing his class photo and the reunion of any survivors afterwards. Some of the students in the portrait were victims of these regimes and vanished only a few years after graduating. An online website devoted to his work and this exhibit can be found here. Even more moving was in 1996, when the school held a ceremony to read off the names of all 98 disappeared students who had attended.

*In a work called "Urban Intervention in the City of Rosario", artist and former resistance fighter, Fernando Traverso, spray painted 350 live-sized images of bicycles throughout his hometown of Rosario, Argentina. The 350 represents the total number of citizens who vanished from the city. Traverso acted after midnight, or at noon when most residents were in their homes for the noon meal and subsequent siesta. The first evidence that someone had disappeared was their abandoned bicycle, a preferred method of transport for resistance workers. Traverso then "intervened" by painting the bicycles either at or near the spot of the abduction.

*Identidad, was a collaborative effort by many Argentinian artists to show one of the more serious aftermaths of this period, the missing children of the disappeared. They had been taken at birth and adopted into military families from those who opposed the government. Some abducted women were kept until their pregnancies came to term and murdered shortly after giving birth. By working with the Association of the Grandmothers of the Plaza de Mayo, the collective gathered photos of these women (and where possible, their partners), hung mirrors next to their portraits, and provided the possible birth month and year of the disappeared's children. The mirrors were for anyone who, having dubious feelings about their birth, might be able to see any resemblance to any of the women in the photos and be reunited with their birth mother's family. When Identidad opened in Buenos Aires, three people discovered their long-hidden identities.

I don't know if this exhibit will travel anywhere else in the future. Prior to its showing at El Museo del Barrio, it debuted at the North Dakota Museum of Art. But, if this ever arrives in an area near you, I suggest you not miss out.

I don't like linking things from the NY Times. Only because their links expire quickly and one is then forced to pay for the article. But, they had a really good feature on this exhibit.

Wildenstein Gallery - Monet Exhibit

Yesterday was the first of the "summer Friday's" that I get to enjoy this year. My workplace allows each employee seven Friday half-days (paid) from Memorial Day to Labor Day in which to choose from. I got to leave at 1 o'clock, and headed uptown to the Wildenstein Gallery for the Claude Monet exhibit. I found out about this exhibit from a travel forum, and thankfully, got there a week before it was to end.

Anyone who was around yesterday knows that it was hot, hot, hot. In the city, it's even more of a killer, and being uptown near all the traffic and all those emissions, made it absolutely unbearable. I didn't realize there would be a long line to get in. And standing there waiting with the sun beaming down on you, makes one even more irritable. Especially once they get inside and are herded like cattle throughout the whole entire exhibit. Regardless, it was exquisite and I'm glad to have gone.

So, there were sixty, count 'em sixty, Monet's on display! These spanned from his early works right on down to the later ones. A few of the later works somewhat resembled Jackson Pollack's (to me anyway) and were far removed from the Monet's that many (including myself) are accustomed to seeing. The later works were not really to my taste, but still, there were some classics and some drop dead gorgeous paintings.

Back to the forum. I had to laugh when one poster accused some of the pieces in this exhibit of being "not of museum quality". What!? Since when is a Monet not museum quality? Okay, there are bound to be some that aren't to one's taste, but, come on!

I had to laugh when a forum member posted this in response to that silliness: "Suddenly it's all very clear . . . Maybe next time you're in town they can trot out a nice Thomas Kinkade for you."

Another highlight of the day, was that I discovered I was near Le Pain Quotidien, a Belgian bakery/coffeehouse. Since I love all things Belgium, and I wanted to try this place out, I figured I'd stop in and grab a sweet. By this point, I was too tired to eat in, but I took note of the atmosphere (they utilize a communal table for dining) and made a mental note that I would definitely stop in again sometime soon. I ended up ordering an Pain au Chocolat with a Brussels tea. Both were lovely, and I need to practice my future orders in French. There were some French speaking staff behind the counter, and frankly, I felt a little self conscious that I don't speak any language other than English. And I hardly manage that with considerable ease!

I Bageled an Onion

Let me explain.

Last night, I took a Knife Skills I workshop at the Institute of Culinary Education (ICE). I originally came across the school several months back when I was interested in taking a wine course. Over time, that idea changed and the want of some basic cooking classes took over. I was drawn to the knife skills class because, although I know how to cook (very well, thankyouverymuch), I'm not too comfortable with your standard run of the mill chopping and dicing. I handle a knife as if I'm auditioning for a role in a horror flick. I hack into things with reckless abandonment.

Our instructor, chef Norman Weinstein, was superb. Not only was he incredibly helpful, but funny as well. I really learned a lot and grew more comfortable with the knives we used. Having hands the size of a Barbie Doll, I always figured that smaller would be better for me. Not the case. We worked with an 8" chef's knife only once. That was because Mr. Weinstein wanted us to compare it to the 10" chef's knife he had us use for the remainder of the class. Turns out, he was so right about that.

The techniques I learned last night I think will always be with me, but I know I'll have to practice a lot. In addition to learning the bagel cut (a straight saw cut to the side), and both the high and low technique; the key word of the night was "follow-through". Like in golf. Plus, we were given a handout which detailed what we learned in class to refresh our memories. Also, I can proudly say that I have finally chopped an onion without tears streaming from my eyes. That, my friends, is quite an achievement!

Another thing I liked was Weinstein's honesty about what one needs to stock a basic kitchen. As a professional, he could easily have said we needed tons of knives. Nope. One only needs a few to handle the job.

So, because of my happiness in the course, I am definitely looking into taking another knife skills class. There are four on offer. I learned that you don't need to take them in any order as they are not skills orientated, but usage orientated.

Sophisticated, Escape Artist, New Wave Puritan, Love Bug

These are the traits that identify me for mood, fun, habits, and love.

Take the quiz for yourself and find out your personality traits at Imagini.

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June Shelter Duty 2007

With mixed feelings, last night was the end of shelter duty. Until next fall. I always leave each year with a feeling of hope that our guests will finally find suitable housing. A few of these people have been with us for several years now. That's not good, or promising, and it can really bring you down when you see their faces the next fall.

The person I volunteered with last night had the oddest bedside manner. She arrived after I did, and not introducing herself, first demanded the keys so that she could get something to eat. When she came back, she offered up no information about who she was and answered every single one of my "get to know you" questions with one or two words. That was the tone for the rest of the night. A total snobby dud. When she had stepped out for her food, I made a call to the coordinator to tell me her story. Turns out, she has been doing the shelter every month for five years. I have been doing the shelter for ten years, and never once had the pleasure (displeasure is more like it) of working with her.

All throughout the night, I tried initiating conversation several times to no avail. Finally, when I left the next morning, I said goodbye, and out of niceness, lied when I told her that it was nice working with her. Again, I got no response. Nothing. Anyone who knows me knows that I give a lot of people a chance, and that I am an incredibly understanding person. I have done shelter duty with people whom I didn't really mesh with. But, we always managed to make a go of the night.

I'm still scratching my head in confusion over this.

One good thing come out of it...no more Jane. I found out two weeks ago that she had another mental breakdown and has been removed for good. Thankfully, when she started up trouble again, we had some long timers volunteering that night who were able to keep the situation under control. My only regret is that I didn't tell the coordinator immediately that I didn't ever want her there. I had figured I'd wait until we spoke about arranging the next shelter night. Unfortunately, it didn't happen in time.

They Say 10 Years Makes You A Native

Well if that's the case, today, I have become just that.

Happy Anniversary to me!

In honor of the occasion, I bring you the stylings of Odyssey. Enjoy!

Lyrics here.