Stacy Horn

I took this shot while waiting for my friends at the movie theatre.  It shows the current Webster Hall, which used to be a club called The Ritz when I was in my club-hopping days.  Beyond that is the back of Grace Church, where I sing every week as a member of the Grace Church Choral Society.

I was talking to my agent the other days about a few ideas I had for my next book, and she came up with one that made me forget all the other ideas I had, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.  It has to do with singing.  I love how the words “The Promised Land” float in front of Grace Church, the possible setting for my next book.

I fall, drop things, spill things, lose things, and apparently BREAK anything I love. My camera, which I just replaced seven months ago, broke.  One month after the warranty expired, of course.  I can’t get over myself. I sent it to Canon for repair, but they have this “Loyalty” program.  I can either pay for it to be repaired, or buy a better, but refurbished camera at a reduced price. That’s how I got the G9 which I just broke.  I love that camera though, so I may not go for the refurbished upgrade.  Unless they offer me a great deal on a G10. Maybe.

This is one of the last things I shot.  A guy dancing in a rat costume in the window of the Marc Jacobs kids store on Bleecker Street.

It’s my favorite lunch and I’ve had it twice in a row practically. I just got back from lunch with a few detective friends. I love those guys. But now I don’t feel like going back to work. Hmmm. It’s another gorgeous day. Maybe I should go for a walk.

Here’s a shot of the Empire State building peeking through on my way to Balducci’s, where I buy practically all my meals.

I was trying to figure out how to get pictures to appear side by side and this happened. I love it, but I’m not sure how it happened so I could never repeat it. Damnit. It’s not easy going through life being not-smart. Now I’m going to see if I can figure out how to insert text below.

Nothing makes sense!

This post is on drugs.

I can’t insert where I want to.

There’s a story behind each shot.

Urg. Argh. That’s me trying to imitate the sound after Joss Whedon shows. Fuck it. I’ll just talk about the last one. I’ve never really been drawn to Giacometti, but he has taken on this allure since I read Provenance, a book about an art forger by Laney Salisbury and my late friend Aly Sujo. I’m going to be talking about this book when it gets closer to the pub date, which I believe is September … Hey. Something funny is going on with the internets. I tried to check the pub date, but Amazon appears to be down, people’s avatars are not appearing on my Twitterific.

I envy the community of the barber shop.

I’d love to hang out in one of these chairs out front, or gossip with the other patrons inside.

Beauty shops are not the same. We don’t interact with each other there.

Well, no matter.

It’s a lovely day.

I’m heading uptown to the museum in a few minutes, MOMA.

Can’t remember what shows are there, but there will be something good.  

Maybe we can stop in a the Folk Art Musem afterwards.

It’s on the same block.

Maybe I’ll buy myself diamond earrings at Tiffany’s afterwards, it’s just a couple blocks away.

Okay, that’s not going to happen.

Park.  PARK.  The park!  That’s just a couple of blocks away too and it’s a lovely day.

We should go there afterwards.

This glee is because I’m playing hooky.  

Kinda.  

I have an unexpected free day today, so tomorrow I can do what I was going to do today.

This glee is also because I realized that it’s getting closer to the time for the best reality show on television:

So You Think You Can Dance!

WOOHOO!!

Life is good … except for the bad parts.

(I took this picture on … Horatio Street, I think, off 8th, just before you get to 14th Street.)