If everyday were like Sunday, I would be highly reclusive, well rested, perpetually clean, lethargic, have no social skills, and have a freakishly organized house. I passed up a day in the world and two attractive get-togethers to hang up my freshly washed clothes, wash dishes, and arrange my newest pictures in photo albums in front of Scully, Doggett, and Reas. A thunderstorm passed over at some time that I didn't note, I ate one meal and a string of haphazard snacks, and I let that Kronos Quartet CD play on repeat at least twice. I'd like another Sunday tomorrow, please, but more than that would probably be a bad idea.
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FROM THE ARCHIVES:  
Some photos from my wedding were recently featured on Brooklyn Bride, here and here. (There's also a pretty thorough write-up of the wedding details.) — 02.25.09 People We Like. I've got a new photo in The Morning News: the co-owners of Frank White, an unusual coffee shop in my neighborhood. — 07.17.08 Charles Atlas will make a man of you! "Against Atlas' better judgment, I declined performing all of my exercises in the nude." (accompanying shirtless photo of the author [my husband] taken by me.) — 07.17.08 Cat on a Leash. I am totally buying a leash for Coleman asap. — 06.25.08 The Brooklynites. Great photos of a wide range of people from my favorite borough. (Thanks to Kurt [a talented photographer himself] for passing this on.) — 12.19.07 |
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