Life Imitates Art

I lingered in bed a long time on my last morning at the Bowery Hotel in New York. The night before, we had sipped cocktails in the lobby with Keats and his entourage while a little parade of celebrities made their way through the lobby, still dressed in their finery from the Met's Costume Institute Gala. We saw this dress and this couple and I rejoiced over the way Eric swooned at seeing this dress. Okay, maybe it wasn't just the dress he was happy about. I saw the wearer of said dress at the front desk several times during my stay and she was smiling and sweet seeming each time so I encourage those of you who have crushes on her to just go right ahead and keep on crushing. Just don't forget what her last boyfriend looked like, boys. In spite of my extreme sophistication, I still think that seeing celebrities is part of the fun of New York. Let's all try not to get too cool to enjoy that.

The day before, Pam and I saw these two on the street, in those very outfits, I believe, and I very nearly got a paparazzi shot of my own when they walked through the frame of a photo I was taking of graffiti. They looked hungover and in love, that classic combination for a couple kids in their 20's. Walking through Central Park later, Pam and I decided that really they should wander up there and be in love on the grass instead of walking around SoHo wondering which shops weren't too self-conscious to patronize.

Today I recreated my last morning at the Bowery Hotel by staying in bed reading poetry until check-out time. Then I ate a boiled egg on an english muffin, had a cup of tea and watched Mansfield Park on DVD. Don't hate me because I'm lazy. I wasn't always this way.

I did have a glimmer of hope for myself today when I got an email from Barb with a little pep-talk about the writing. She has a good point when she recommends not missing an opportunity to have ten great readers take a look at your work. Surely I've got a short story in me somewhere... really short.

XOXO
H