Category: Uncategorized

The prettiest building is up for sale. I did a “then and now” on it last year. This picture was taken in 1928, and the one for sale is the narrower one on the left, 387 Bleecker.

I love the kind of door the building on the corner used to have — that diagonal cut into both sides style. 

Now there’s a Marc Jacobs store on that corner.  That’s the one downside to it for me.  

Oh wait, no. What am I talking about?  That’s not a downside at all. The bottom floor of 387 is storefront retail too, and retail-wise, it’s probably a good thing to be next door to a store that is almost always packed.  There’s three or four Marc Jacobs stores on Bleecker and this is where he sells more affordable do-dads, so it’s always busy.  And it’s not a noisy busy.  It’s not like being next to a bar.  For the people living on the upper two floors of 387, it would be fine.

Here was my “now” shot from last summer, but I took another picture below, to show how it looks more straight-on.

I wonder what’s in the back. Hey. I should have looked at who listed this house so I could have looked up the price.  Maybe it’s in the Times.

Found it!  While I was looking for it I saw that there’s a building directly across the street for sale for nine and a half million dollars!  (I’ll take a picture of that today.) But this one can be had for a mere $2,395,000.  Oh god.  I love it.  Why oh why am I not a kabillionaire. You can see the inside here.  I’m in pain now.

From now on when I can’t do something, that will be my answer.  No explanations.  Just a simple, “unable.”  I would give examples, but I don’t want to alarm the people who are asking me to do things I fear I can’t do.

I passed this store yesterday.  I think it said “make-up for professionals” or “professional makeup,” I forget.  In any case, it’s a Makeup Forever store and it reminded I have to start seriously thinking about what I look like.  I’m going to be getting up in front of people again and again to give talks, readings, etc., and I’ll be miserable if I don’t feel pretty.  

I need to pick outfits, schedule a facial, a pedicure—no one will see my feet, but it will put a necessary spring in my step.  And maybe I should stop by this place? We better not have this conversation though:

Me:  Make me pretty, please.
Them:  Unable.

I may change my mind tomorrow, but for now, I think he has it better.  Or maybe one of those pet daycare centers might be better.  By the way, I was walking behind them, and this was one of the most well-behaved, most laid-back pack of dogs I have ever seen.  Good doggies, all of them.

Everyone has their Valentine’s Day themed windows up.  I like pink and red and flowers, so I’m pleased.

So.  American Idol.  Still not tired of it, still enormously entertained.

Oh God, I have nothing of substance to say this morning.  I’m feeling completely panicked and frazzled still and that I have to jump right back into work promoting this new book and cannot waste a single second.  Or my world will end, I guess.  No more American Idol for me.  I have to do everything I can think of.

I do want to read that Times article about the National Academy of Sciences report about forensic science in the country, though.  I just skimmed it and immediately posted about it on my blog for The Restless Sleep. The original title of my post there was simply, “Uh oh.” But I decided that was unprofessional and changed it.

So yeah. I have to get to work right away in order to dispel this feeling of certain doom.  I need a fairy godmother or something.

From time to time I try to capture the bigatude of Finney. Just as I clicked to take a picture he started licking my face, so that’s why my face is blocked.

You can tell how big is he in this, right? His body takes up my whole upper half. And I think that’s more of him extending below the arm that is holding him.

He’s bigger than a lot of dogs.  Imagine me holding a chihuahua compared to this.

He’s a monster beast of a cat is my point.

That reminds me, my favorite part of whatever award ceremony I was watching, the Golden Globes maybe, was Mickey Rourke’s tender love for his dogs, one of which is a tiny chihuahua.  To see this hulk of a man completely in the thrall of a little dog is just irresistible.

I’m taking a break from doing everything I can to promote my book.  There’s going to be reviews in Marie Claire, BUST and something in the Washington Post, although I don’t know if that’s going to be a review per se.  I can’t wait. Hoping against hope that they all say something positive.