Stacy Horn

It’s the one new show that seems to be getting some buzz. It’s also the most talked about new show on Echo. It even has it’s own separate item, a sure sign of popularity (otherwise it would be talked about in a catch-all item like “New Shows” or something). I’ve only watched the first episode so far myself, but I’m in.

This is a shot of the lending library at the Occupy Wall Street protest. Okay, I looked to see if any of my books were there, I admit it. They weren’t. I could donate some, I suppose!

As I was leaving Washington Square Park, after spending some time listening to the Occupy Wall Street protesters, I came across a man making really big bubbles.

What is it about bubbles? They make me happy. I heard on the news that the Occupy Wall Street protestors are going to be back at Washington Square Park today, but today is supposed to be my day off. I was going to read Hons and Rebels by Jessica Mitford. I’m addicted to everything Mitford, and I’m kinda amazed I haven’t read this yet.

I’m back from the Occupy Wall Street assembly in Washington Square Park. One minute the crowd was of modest size and the next minute I was surrounded by thousands. The police wouldn’t let them use bullhorns, so whenever the speaker spoke, the crowd as one would repeat their words. It was very clever. Those of us further back wouldn’t have been able to hear a word otherwise.

I zoomed in to give the crowd a face.

This giant Statue of Liberty puppet gave the day a carnival/Halloween feel.

Lady Liberty in dire straights.

These police are watching from the top of the Washington Square arch. The quote below them is from George Washington’s address at the Constitutional Convention in 1787: “Let us raise a standard to which the wise and honest can repair. The event is in the hand of God.” Very apropos. While I was there, the police kept their distance for the most part.

I continue to be very impressed with the protesters and the growing movement. The speakers told the crowd which groups were meeting when, where to get more information, etc. I grabbed a copy of the newspaper they were handing out, The Occupied. I’ll read it later and let you know what it says. (I’m tired. Must rest. Watch lots of tv.)

Ha! It was a Wetpaint party and I went because a friend is the editor-in-chief. Page Six is the gossip section in the New York Post:

“Tinsley Mortimer screamed at boyfriend Brian Mazza at the Wetpaint Entertainment first-anniversary party at Espace Wednesday night after he bit her lip while kissing her. The blond socialite was heard screaming, “You bit me!” — and dropping the F-bomb — at hospitality executive Mazza. After a quick stop in the restroom, Mortimer cooled down and swanned out of the party. She e-mailed us, “I was upset because it actually did hurt, but we were just joking around! Nothing knew [sic] for me to use the f-word for good times and bad! We are very happy and moving in together this week!” The couple has been dating for more than a year.”

New tv update: American Horror Story was too lurid for me. I don’t mean sex-stuff lurid, in fact, I’m not sure I can easily explain what I mean. The show has this film of ickiness that I do not like. It’s not scary it’s just unpleasant.

Another shot of the Wall Street protesters in Zuccotti Park, a more relaxed moment:

They distanced me at first. I didn’t like some of the signs about Obama. I’ve had my disappointments with Obama, but I still cut him slack due to the enormity, complexity and number of problems he inherited. He’s come through on many of the promises that are important to me, and I want to give him more time to come through on others.

Those signs have largely disappeared, but here is what really won me over: I went to a Tea Party demonstration last year and walked among the protesters. It was a seething mass of hate. In fact, while I was there the crowd regularly threatened anyone they didn’t like the looks of. It was horrible and ugly.

The people at Occupy Wall Street are respectful, friendly and helpful. They have all these stations set up where you can learn about the various issues they’re concerned with. Nobody’s yelling at you, or giving you the once over to decide if they like you or not. They’re not screaming about who is American and who is not. They’re politely asking if you’d like to learn more about x, y or z. This is my kind of protest. Providing information. It also had this wonderful hopeful feel. We can fix these problems. If these were my children I’d be very proud. Actually, I shouldn’t talk like it was all young people, it wasn’t.

(Not that I’m calling you old, mom in this picture. You are NOT.)