When Tara Met Blog: May 2005

It's Ladies Night

Friday, May 27, 2005

Tonight is my friend Divina's bachelorette party!! I helped plan it, along with a
sorority friend of her's from UCONN.

We're hitting the bars in SoNo (South Norwalk, CT) in one of my uncle's limousines (Settembre's Limo).

Of course we'll be giving her gag gifts and making her wear a tiara and silly t-shirt that she'll have to get signed by random guys, haha, I can't wait. Before we head out for the night we are having a stripper come to her apartment and pretend to be a police officer and request that she keep things down, this was her one request, she insisted he be a cop so she can experience the cliché herself. After lots of private "interviews," just kidding, we picked Ian.

UPDATE: two real cops stopped by her apartment but then happily cuffed the bachelorette and posed for photos, was thrown towards the ceiling by the stripper and then plopped upon his shoulders (he was more like an acrobat than a stripper), danced on a bar for the first time and had a blast!!

The History of Love

Thursday, May 26, 2005

I just read The History Of Love, by Nicole Krauss. I've been wanting to read the full story ever since her original short story, "The Last Words on Earth" appeared in The New Yorker. I had read the whole piece in one sitting, and with how my magazines pile up, it really means something that I didn't just flip through it.

I appreciated her clear and simple writing and the story flows very nicely. Overall I thought it was a very tranquil and compassionate story. Because Krauss writes her male character so effectively, I was actually surprised to find out after I had read it that it was written by a female author.

The opening paragraph grabbed me from the start:
"When they write my obituary. Tomorrow. Or the next day. It will say, "Leo Gursky is survived by an apartment full of shit." I'm surprised I haven't been buried alive. I have to struggle to keep a path clear between bed and toilet, toilet and kitchen table, table and front door. If I want to get from the toilet to the front door, I have to go by way of the kitchen table. I like to imagine the bed as home plate, the toilet as first, the kitchen table as second, the front door as third: should the doorbell ring while I am lying in bed, I have to round the toilet and the kitchen table in order to arrive at the door." The same beginning starts the book too.

You can read the rest of the short story online for free at: http://www.newyorker.com/printables/fiction/040209fi_fiction That way you'll know if you should bother buying the complete book :) My mom is reading it now.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Now Playing: (See above)

This song has been repeating in my head ever since our plane started to land back in New York and I spotted the miserable and rainy 50 degree weather. Welcome home! :( I also had an article due today and just started my full-time position at work. On the upside, I did manage to schedlue a vendor briefing with a journalist.

Here's the recap of my trip to Marco Island:
Marco is off the West Coast of Florida, south of Naples, but the closest airport, Fort Myers, is 45 minutes away and at least 10 miles from the shore. But the smell of the ocean's mist and the balmy heat can be inhaled and felt through squinted eyes, the moment you walk out onto the hot pavement, just as my heavy Soring clothes began to stick and cling to my body.

A high, arched bridge leads you to the City of Marco Island, where you are welcomed by palm tree lined streets and clay tiled roofs, reminiscent of a more tropical Beverly Hills. Elaborate manatee and seahorse shaped stone mailboxes try and outdo the dolphin and seashell ones of their neighbors and mark the entrances of amazing homes.

The weather was perfect and cloudless each day and remained in the high 80s despite the forecast, which called for scattered thunderstorms every day.

My friend and I opted for a day at The Spa, which was of course lovely and completely booked with guests. I had my first Sweedish Massage, LOVED IT!!

Instead of meeting laid-back locals and Bob Marley, Jimmy Buffett types, the people we met were mostly the same inhabitants of my native island. The majority of the barefoot tourists are New Jersey women and Wall Street men looking to unwind by escaping to their summer rentals. New Yawkers can easily be spotted in summer frocks and strappy, elaborate sandals, daringly incorporating colors into their normally black filled wardrobes.

The Mr. Perfects that I had secretly hoped to meet had Mrs. Perfects in the beach chair next to them, their kids playing in the wave-less water with their grandparents lying a few feet away under an umbrella. And their stares were not the ones I had in mind, when I sported my new black bikini for the first time this season.

It seemed, from family vacations to romantic rendezvous for two, Marco Island makes for the perfect paradise for both. Just do not expect to see many single people under the age of 35 to socialize with. According to Wikipedia, for every 100 females age 18 and over, there are 95.8 males, and the median age of inhabitants is 60 years old. So although the ratio is not that horrible, an older sugar daddy was not who I was looking to luau with.

Oh but the sunsets on the white sandy beaches, over the Gulf ocean, were amazing!!

CAUTION: I wasn't aware of this but apparently if you put your room key card near your cell phone it can erase the coding and you wont be able to get into your hotel room. It happend three times to us and each time I was either dripping wet from the pool or in grubby gym clothes when I was forced to trek down to the front desk and wait for our keys to be recoded.

I am here:

Thursday, May 19, 2005

Spending 5 days in Marco Island, FL, curtosey of the trip that I won on the Tony Danza Show. It's my first vacation in a year, and I'm soo looking foward to it.

This is the hotel I'm staying at:

These are hopefully the drinks I'll be drinking:

and the guy I'll be meeting, lol! (wink, wink):

This day last year, I saw a kid die.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

The newspapers identified him as a 'man,' and I suppose he was, but being only 21-years-old, he was still just a baby who should have had his whole life ahead of him.

It was three days before my graduation from Wheaton College in Mass, and everyone was excited for the senior formal, especially because it took place every year at Rose Cliff Mansion in Newport Rhode Island. It's where they filmed the ballroom scenes in The Great Gatsby film and we were going to be able to sway on the same dance floor while a big band played. The night was going fine; I was the designated driver though, so I couldn't have too much fun with the open bar part. While taking a breather in between songs with some of my girlfriends, I was introduced to a friend of a friends date. He was a very handsome guy in a tux, who said it was a pleasure to meet me and kissed my hand before they went back on the dance floor for a slow song. I admit, was a bit dazzled, I mean who gives a kiss on the hand except for in old movies?

Around two a.m. on the streets of Newport, still in our gowns and tuxes, my group did not wind up at the main bar with everyone else but at some local one. We were still waiting for some students who didn't go to the dance to join us, and then we were going to move on. Just as I was leaving and walking out onto the main street, I finally saw my late friends walking towards us, but I looked away from their happy faces when I heard "FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!" being chanted a few feet away. I looked over at the crowd of people, when suddenly a guy in a tux, I couldn't tell who (could it be a friend of mine? I thought) was pushed or lost his balance and began to fall backwards off the curb, waving his hands in a quick effort to catch himself.

Everything went into slow motion, when in reality I suppose it had to happen really quickly. Behind him, a crowded school bus was turning the corner onto the street we were on. My mind knew instantly what would happen, the twenty or so people outside must have known too, because there was a group intake of breath. I looked away for a moment. Heard the screaming! Looked back and saw the bus still driving, and about to parallel to me. A student that I knew ran along side the bus banging on it's side to stop it. College kids from Rhode Island College who were on their senior pub crawl were screaming and hanging out the windows of the bus. I slowly turned my head back to the fallen kid in the tuxedo, knew he had to be someone that I knew, someone I probably went to school with. Saw his decapitated body lying lifeless on the road. Suddenly everything went into real time again, I grabbed my friend who heard the noise but thankfully didn't see what I just saw and kept her from looking. A guy friend of mine threw up, and I knew I was going to faint, so I had to get me and my friend that I was holding out of there. Sirens were in the distance, people were crying and I didn't want to faint and make things worse so dragging my drunken friend, I drove to were we were staying. Waiting to find out who the guy was, forcing the images out of my head.

Finally my friend, who didn't even go to the dance but was questioned by the police after having had the bad luck of arriving just then and being even closer to the accident than me, sobbed over the phone and told us that it was a friend's date. My mind instantly registered that it was the handsome guy that I met that night, the one who kissed my hand.

For the next three days, the events played like a film scene on loop: meeting him, leaving the bar, FIGHT, falling, swinging bus, screams, body, then rewinding and playing back again. Needless to say graduation was a somber event for all three colleges involved, Wheaton, Rhode Island and Fairfield U, where he was about to be a valedictorian of his graduating class. I still think about him sometimes before sleep, seeing the images play again while thinking of the bright future that he would have had, his parents and girlfriend grieving somewhere, the familiar pain they were going through.

For the actual news story about what happened go to: http://www.newportdailynews.com/articles/2004/05/20/news/news1.txt

Office Foosball Tournament

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

We have a foosball table in the small conference room of our office. Games are held on a daily basis and everyone takes it pretty seriously :) This week we are having a foosball tournament with 10 employees competing. The schedule is written up on the dry erase board.

I'm the only female playing and my first match is against the President and CEO of the company!! He admitted yesterday that he's a sore loser and that he would be humiliated to lose to a girl, lol. Yikes, and did I mention it's his birthday? So, now I'm gonna feel bad when I kick his ass ;) Hopefully I'll still have a job! haha!

UPDATE: Oh how the mighty have fallen, the 'mighty' being me. I lost by two goals :( He got to practice earlier though when I was in a video conference and I had a big crowd cheering me on against the boss. It made me nervous. It was a lot of fun though, I'm still charged from the game!

E-MAIL that my gloating boss sent out to the whole company:
Sent: Tuesday, May 17, 2005 3:00 PM
Subject: tara shmara

I AM FOOSBAL, I AM KING, I AM MOVING ON. Let no player be left unturned and no goal unjustified for I have succeeded where other failed. With courage and grace, though unpracticed, I have left my mark on the game and on the field. Ryan, put me down for the next round!
-CEO

REPLY: Haha, glad to see it's not going to your head!

Happy Birthday!

~Tara

RE: RE: tara schmara from another coworker:
A clear birthday gift...it's better to lose at foosball than to have to climb out of a cake like someone did last year...

AIDS Walk New York

Sunday, May 15, 2005

I did another charity walk and again it was in the rain, but at least this time it was warm and it only drizzled.

It was the 10k AIDS Walk NY -- the world's largest AIDS fundraiser! I walked in honor of a college friend with HIV and of course the millions of other people who have it.

I joined the Ralph Lauren Polo team, because my friend works there and the company encouraged their employees to invite friends and family and walk together, thus why I'm with them. They gave me a nice t-shirt to wear, surprisingly it's not a polo tee though.

As we walked by the opening ceremony area, I briefly heard John Spencer, Rosie Perez and Judith Light speak and cheer everyone on.

Unfortunately since my friends donated to the Revlon Breast Cancer walk two weeks ago, I wasn't able to raise anything this time, besides my entrance fee and the money that I donated myself :( If anyone would like to make a contribution to raise urgently needed funds and send the message that the AIDS crisis is not over go to: http://aidswalknewyork2005.kintera.org/tara129

FACTS: (www.aids.com)

2.9 million people died from AIDS in 2003; nearly half a million were children under the age of 15.

4.8 million people were newly infected with HIV in 2003; that's 14,000 a day!

38 million people are currently living with HIV/AIDS

25 million children will be orphans by 2010 because of AIDS

70 million deaths from AIDS are estimated in the next 20 years (HOLY SHIT!!!!)

PS: I finally got a letter from MY SOLDIER, after months and months of sending care packages to him. He's from Colorado and on a 30 day leave.

Men With Bags

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

So apparently, men who wear backpacks do not realize that their bags are an extension of their body. That's why when they turn and hit you with the house that they have stored in their satchels and backpacks they don't apologize or feel any remorse. Even if you emit a yelp or an OW they can look at you like you were the nut for not avoiding their backpack when they decided to instantly spin around and look at the subway map. After all, the BAG hit you, not them. UGRHH! Lately it's becoming an epidemic in the city; even men with fancy business suits are carrying tattered backpacks.

Women, however, who are accustomed to owning large bags, are much more conscious of them in general. When someone new enters the train and space is needed, they will shift their bags in front of them and sort of clutch them like a baby. Men, however will let their freakin bags stick out there, proudly, making you crane your neck or duck to avoid being smashed against them. Even when the trains are not crowded they don't mind whacking the people who are sitting or the people they pass by, because they can't help having all that stuff on their back. They aren't to blame, bad backpacks, bad backpacks, you're naughty! ;)

If you've have been a victim of a backpack hit and run and have felt that dazed you've-just-been-struck feeling, don't worry, Tara will be forming a support group soon.

From the Friends episode "The One With Joey's Bag"
Rachel: Okay, it's missing something. Ooh, I know! Umm, okay. (Goes and grabs a bag, that looks like a purse, and shows it to Joey.)
Joey: Really? A purse?
Rachel: It's not a purse! It's a shoulder bag.
Joey: It looks like a women's purse.
Rachel: No Joey, look. Trust me, all the men are wearing them in the spring catalog. Look. (Shows him.) See look, men, carrying the bag.
Joey: See look, women, carrying the bag. (He puts it on his shoulder and looks at himself in the mirror and likes what he sees.) But it is odd how a women's purse looks good on me, a man.
Rachel: Exactly! Unisex!
Joey: Maybe you need sex. I had sex a couple days ago.
Rachel: No! No Joey! U-N-I-sex.
Joey: Well, I ain't gonna say no to that.

lol, love that scene!

Article: Men's Handbags - Will They Ever Catch On?

Just when I thought I was out,

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

THEY PULL ME BACK IN!

This summer, after a years absence, I was planning on pursuing a job or internship in journalism again. After all, that is what I am getting my master's degree at NYU in and signing lots of loans for. Yet, PR (Public Relations), which is considered the dark side of journalism and the media, has drawn me back into its sticky web.
I've been working at the PR firm, Fusion, in Times Square for the last year and I was just offered a full-time job and a promotion last week. I just accepted. The money is not great, by no means, but I'm still technically a student even if it's a graduate student and the title will look great on my resume. I'm an Account Specialist, not an Account Facilitator but a "specialist" (I actually did the finger quotes in my mind) The pres figured that since I had been there a year, I could forgo the junior title. I'll be working on four different accounts and will be responsible for getting them in the news, so do not be surprised if I shamelessly plug them here on my blog ;) Not that it would count though.
Now, my j-school friends, I'm so not giving up on journalism. I will still freelance, I even have an article coming up in a magazine and hopefully during the Fall I can explore an internship more through my studies. I'm also taking a night course this summer on Travel Writing, so I'll be one class freer come September.
Plus in Fusion's defense, they have a candy wall, foosball table, dart board, bagel Fridays and fun people. I'm also moving from my cubicle to a work station, which is not very different but I'll have more space and be closer to my coworkers. Addison, the boxers wearing Vermont teddy bear on my desk, will like that.
PS: Happy Birthday Audrey! You still look like you're in your thirties, even if you are not out disco-ing anymore! ;) smooches!
News: Ouch! Tony Danza's Go-Kart Flips During Show Taping

Happy Mother's Day!

Saturday, May 7, 2005

50% of women say their moms are their best friends (Newsweek).

We celebrated my best friend's day on Friday with my Nanny too. The three of us walked around the stores near my apartment and of course ate a lot. It was the first time my Nanny saw my place and she really enjoyed her visit.
This is my Nanny trying out the ladder to my lofted bed in my tiny studio haha, she's too cute!

For a present, I bought my mother a canvas painting by Alice Dalton Brown. I think it will blend perfectly into its surroundings at her home in Connecticut, which overlooks the Long Island Sound :) She had liked a larger painting by Brown, but it was too big for her wall space and detracted from the actual view. This one is large too (22x37) but not as much so.

Whatcha think? The version I got her isn't a print but on a canvas and it doesn't have the signiture part on the bottom.

Crash

Thursday, May 5, 2005

I saw an advanced screening of Crash on Tuesday. Despite the title and poster, it is not a horror movie, but a powerful and intense social drama with a great ensemble (Don Cheadle, Ryan Phillippe, Sandra Bullock, Thandie Newton, Matt Dillon, Ludacris and Brandon Fraser).

It takes place in LA and shows the lives of many separate people of different wealth, occupation and race and how at some point they "crash" into one another during a period of 36 hours. I personally enjoy movies where seemingly unrelated people are later weaved together.

Crash unflinchingly deals with racial tolerance in contemporary America and the different stereotypes and fears people have, even towards their own cultures. At times these fears and prejudices are handled with humor and shock. It was weird being at a theater and hearing other audience members laugh at racial and ethnic slurs, but then I realized most of it was awkward laughter and other times the script actually is able to poke fun really skillfully to reveal tensions.

The film was written and directed by Paul Haggis, who wrote the Best Picture Million Dollar Baby. His new film effort is incredibly well-acted, especially by Don Cheadle, which comes as no surprise. It was also interesting seeing actors and actresses like Sandra Bullock, Matt Dillon in unfamiliar roles and playing a bitch and racist. Tony Danza actually has a brief cameo, playing an actor who wants a black co star to act in a scene like he was more "black."

Overall, this was a powerful film and shows that there is no black or white but a lot of gray are in between. Crash opens this Friday, May 6.

Review: Accidents Will Happen, Paul Haggis's thrilling, provocative Crash spins a great cast into moral collisions. New York Magazine

Yeah, but can they flush and put down the seat?

Wednesday, May 4, 2005

A Burmese cat named 'Doogal' is seen in this combo picture as it sits on a toilet in Sydney on May 3, 2005. Doogal's owner, Jo Lapidge, invented a toilet training system for cats called the 'Litter-Kwitter.' Lapidge said she was inspired by the cat 'Mr Jinks' in the Hollywood film 'Meet the Fockers,' and invented the toilet training system. (REUTERS) (read more).

HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!

Strangers in the Night

Monday, May 2, 2005

On Jane Street under pink magnolia trees:
Friend: You ever wonder how many times we have walked around this island?
Me: In Super Size Me it says the average New Yorker walks about 9 to 13 miles a day, that's 2,500/3,000 steps.
Friend: Really?
Me: So it said.
Friend: You ever think about if we've passed a future boyfriend or husband with all the people we pass in those "3,000" steps a day?
Me: Not really, I'm usually thinking if one day I'll be living in one of the beautiful apartments that I pass. Like the ones with built in bookshelves that you can see through the windows when their curtains are up. Or one with beautiful stone walk-up steps. Will it have a view of the Hudson--
Friend: or the East river?
Both: *sigh*
Me: ha ha, I'm such a romantic.
Friend: (laughs) Practical. The apartment will probably be around longer than a lover.
Me: Especially if it's rent control.

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