Parade of sisters

No, it didn't really take two billion, twenty-three million, four hundred six thousand, eight hundred fifteen hours to compress a photo file to send to our corporate office.
But I can see why you'd think that.

and mohair suits

I had to run to a doctor's appointment at lunch today, but first I had to stop by the shoe repair place and drop off two pairs of boots. I've had them in my office for almost a week because I keep forgetting to take them in. Today I remembered, so I grabbed the bag they've been languishing in and ran it over to Andrade on the way to the 6 train. I gave the guy the bag, told him what I needed, got my claim ticket and started to leave.
Shoe guy: Miss?
Me: Yes?
Shoe guy: There's only 3 boots here.

I later found the other boot and took it to him that evening, about 2 minutes before they closed. It was in a drawer where I keep old corrected copy. I have no idea why.

Your eyes open

Just because I'm doing all this new stuff doesn't mean I can't do the same thing every year on April 12 or thereabout:
2004

2005

2006
2007



These may or may not have been taken at Studio 54 as a result of some sort of botched time-travel:

Face the curtain

The bright side: No matter what you look like, you are definitely more attractive than Don Imus.

Dress you up in my love

I just moved by myself into a big, echoy apartment.
For the first time in my life, I actually have more closets than I need. Kevin even has his own closet to hang his coat in when he comes over. Leaving any of the other ones empty would seem sort of spooky, so I feel obligated to put something in all of them.
Behold, the Closet of Pants:

Cancan balais taboo

I find it strange that today's new thing was the least weird part of my day. I find it stranger that I can't decide which of the following incidents was actually the strangest part of my day:

1: After attending the tail-end of rehearsal for Jem and the Holograms at the UCB writer's room and convincing lovely Liz to help me out with today's new thing, I hit the Starbucks around the corner with Glennis, Amanda and Liz. I have to admit that my version of this incident will be different from theirs, because I was in line and missed the first part of it. After paying too much for some cheese and fruit, I joined the ladies at the table they'd moved to after I'd gotten in line. They were all turned toward a chic-looking woman about our age who had just gotten in line. Glennis was saying to her, "maybe you are a little bit crazy," and the woman was smiling, so I first thought it was somebody they all knew who I'd never met. Nope. As I sat down, the lady's smile faded, and she was saying stuff to the effect of 'have some respect for other people's things,' and 'you are the rudest people on the planet.' Turned out the lady had left a plastic bag with a newspaper in it on one of the chairs. Thinking it was trash, Amanda (or Glennis? Like I said, I was in line) moved it to the floor, planning to throw it away later. Crazy lady saw this, and immediately got offended that someone would be touching her stuff. After confronting my friends once, she kept getting out of line to come back and tell them 'another thing.' Like, five times. After they'd already apologized. She sat at another table and ignored us, and the next 20 minutes passed without incident. As my friends and I stood up to leave, Newspaper lady turned and said, 'you know, I RECYCLE my newspapers.' Pause. 'And my handbag is missing.' At a glance, it was definitely not there among her myriad Sephora parcels and bags of soon-to-be-recycled newspapers. But none of us had anything to do with it. We made a hasty exit, as she was saying to a janitor, 'They moved my newspaper, and now my handbag is missing!" My theory is that she faked the disappearance of her hand bag to get the attention for which she is clearly starved, but I guess we'll never know.

2: After my second Blue Man show, I was standing on the platform waiting for the A train at West 4th, when a family approached me. Mom, dad, kid, suitcases.
Mom: (With a French accent) Can you tell us if this is the right place if we want to get to Penn Station?
Me: Yes. Take any train from this platform, and get off at 34th. That's Penn Station.
Mom: Thank you.
Dad: (Something I couldn't understand, in super fast French)
Mom: English!
Dad: Port authority?
Me: That's 42nd, but you can still take any train from this platform.
Mom: Penn Station?
Me: Penn Station, or Port Authority?
Dad: Port Authority? I am taking a train to Montreal.
Me: Ok. Well, Port Authority is 42nd Street, but Penn Station is 34th. Amtrak trains leave from Penn Station.
Kid: (Something I couldn't understand, in super fast French)
Mom: He has to go to the bathroom. Is there a bathroom here?
Me: No, you'd have to go up to-
Mom: He is only six, he can't hold it!
Me: Oh no, I'm sorry!
Mom: Do you think anyone would get mad if he did it over there? (points to a magazine stand)
Me: Well, I don't know... you're not really supposed to do that...
Mom: Maybe we can hide him...
Me: Oh, I...

Then they all started speaking French among themselves as they moved behind the magazine stand. I don't want to know what happened in the next three minutes beofre the train came. They got in a different car than I did and I really hope they figured out which station they needed.