0927080002.jpg

0927080002.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosarionyc.

0927080001.jpg

0927080001.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosarionyc.

Rolling my eyes

I do like the idea




but it's hard not to barf at the explanation:

After graduated B.A. Fine Art at Byam Shaw School and a Master at Middlesex University she was widely shown at Sprovieri Gallery in London, Auditorium e Temple Gallery in Rome, guest at Locarno Festival in 2007 and in Wrap! For the International Festival Cinema in Rome. The notion of restoration is central to the work of Guendalina Salini. However restoration here is not to be understood as historical reconstruction, rather it serves to disclose the internal dynamic which is at the genesis of the image. The work brings into play images belonging to the history of art and recontextualise them. By "redrawing" the image the artist intends to open it to a spatial-temporal suspension, a suspension that places the emphasis on the process of art itself.

Oh, and I forgot ...

the evening when we saw Celebrity Autobiography (for the second time in my case). You can see my head right there, in the first row!!!! The writer was probably thinking of me when he wrote about the martini. I was indeed sipping martinis and I was laughing so hard the actress smiled at me on her way out and mouthed something that hopefully was not "Fuck you!".

Great weeks, even better weekends. Little time to blog.

There was the party on the roof deck in Roosevelt Island, attended by quite a crowd of cancer researchers. Most of them smokers. Some of them not limited to tobacco. I spent most of the evening debating with a couple of students of philosophy. At the end of the lively conversation we exchanged our Second Life avatars.

There was the evening of Pedro's surprise birthday party, where all this third husband thing started and were I discovered some kind of little Brazilian bonbons I could kill my mother for (well, actually I could kill my mother for so many reasons this might not be the best way to convey my fondness for those thingies).

There was the Saturday at Park Slope. I had never been there, except once, for a party. I liked it, really like it. The houses are beautiful, the shops are not all Gaps.

There was the Sunday a bunch of us met at the fake beach near the Coney Island boardwalk for the social/cultural/political tour given by Juan (if you could see me, I am giving him a standing ovation). Some of us (Andrea, Pedro, Andrea II, Jimena, Jose and yours truly) ended up having a late dinner at Tatiana in Brighton Beach, which is like what I imagine it must have been like in Odessa in the 50s.

And the other Sunday, yesterday, when we had dinner and I-need-two-hands-to-count caipirinhas (I am using "we" in a very broad sense, I am afraid most people were basically eating, while I was managing to eat like a pig, drink like a sailor and talk non-stop, too) at Esperanto. One of the guys in our party is somebody with whom I work but had never socialized with. Yesterday I discovered he's a kick-ass photographer whom I have mentally hired for my next year birthday bash, although he does not know it yet. The main purpose of dinner (to me, but then again, it's my blog so I am the only one that matters) was for me to meet my future third husband. I had seen a picture of him on the wall at Pedro's birthday and it was love at first sight. I finally met him yesterday. Well, maybe "met" is a little stretch. Let's say I got to say hello. A very meaningful hello, evidently, one that will alter the course of his life, but still only a hello. In person he is actually handsomer than in pictures, and his command of the triangle is impressive. His hip movements ain't bad either. Then again, and I know how this sounds, he might be too handsome. Not as in "too handsome for me" because, as you might know, I have had my share of devastatingly beautiful men. Just maybe a tad too pretty. Maybe I have just outgrown prettiness. I known I have outgrown my phase of "there's never too much muscles" and I now prefer a slightly more natural built. I must admit though that I still get a little overexcited when I am surrounded by bodyguards and secret service. A guy from work used to say that earpieces are sex toys to me. He is right. A humongous guy in black with a cable coming out of his ear and an air of murderous purpose makes me weak at the knees. But I digress. After dinner yesterday we went to La Esquina, neat little place I wasn't aware of. To get there you start at a dingy diner looking taquería, walk through the "Employees only" door and down to the kitchen and through it.

And last but not least, the Ramadan dinner with Meriem's parents. They are very interesting people, just like their daughter, but they are also sweet and kind and you can't help but wonder what went wrong! Even more amazingly, her father is an optimist!

Something to read ...

while I update posts.


Pictures from the Paralympic Games.

and

The Brave New World of Digital Intimacy.

Just another day at the office

Yesterday I was having lunch at the cafeteria with Elena when she started coughing. Then making strange sounds. Then pointing at her throat and turning a nice shade of purple. Having received extensive training for such cases, it did not take me long to recognize the international sign language for "I am fucking choking". I immediately took action and proceeded to punch her in the stomach, in a modified Heimlich maneuver. By then she was bent over on her chair, wheezing. She was doing everything by the book. Very exciting. Then some party pooper from a nearby table totally stole my show and started an annoying mantra of "Harder, harder, harder". He really pissed me. If you're so much better at this, you jerk, why don't you do it yourself? So he did. It worked.

So the guy helped. Big deal. I'd like to take credit for saving her life, even though she's one step ahead of me on the corporate ladder and her demise might facilitate my unstoppable ascension. I think my response to the situation was nothing short of heroically selfless.

We spent the afternoon in the ER killing time trying to figure out what was wrong with our fellow patients. Having watched many an episode of House, it's surprising we did not come up with several diagnosis of Lupus.

I hope the world is still here tomorrow morning

Gloom and doom.
Yes, I know, they think nothing is going to happen. They are wrong so often it's really scary.

0907080003.jpg

0907080003.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosarionyc.

0907080001.jpg

0907080001.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosarionyc.

0907080001.jpg

0907080001.jpg, originally uploaded by Rosarionyc.

Tight schedule

Jimena, my niece, is in town with her boyfriend. She's almost 4 months pregnant, with the cutest little round belly. They arrived on Wednesday night and yesterday we had a quick bite at home and then we went to see Vicky Cristina Barcelona. I had heard plenty of good things about the movie. As usual, I did not like it. Neither did Jimena and Jose. Tonight we are meeting at PIADA. I am going there with the Italian Meetup group for their first anniversary party. We'll probably hang out downtown afterward.

Tomorrow, after rehearsal, I have three options: 1) girls night at Heba's, 2) birthday party at Martha, a colleague, 3) caipirihna-sangria party at Pedro's. Guess my choice.

Sunday I'd like to set some time apart for artsy fartsy. Next couple of weeks are going to be busy. So far the line up is as follows:
African dance on Monday.
Aperitivo on Wednesday.
Roofdeck party on Thursday.
Boat ride on Saturday.

Then
African dance on Monday.
Comedy club on Tuesday.
Aperitivo on Wednesday.
Coney Island's Tour on Sunday.

and the days are filling up quickly.

Pulling an all nighter

My head is finally working again, but that means I can see the shit it produced these days. Most of the work I have done on this never ending document has to be heavily, heavily edited. And so many parts are still missing. The deadline was today, and I worked from home, through a headache. It has to be done by tomorrow. I'd rather stay up as long as possible now that I am on a roll. For a while I watched the Republican Convention on CNN, then Larry King. Now I am replying to random twits. All this as background activities, though in a while I might need a coffee break.

My fault

I am working on Labor Day. True I haven't felt good all of last week (today I am almost, almost fine), but still. Now I have a long document to finish by tomorrow night and I still can't focus. Argh!!!! I am dividing it in more manageable chunks (psychological trick) and really looking forward to an African dance class later on.