No Warning, No Reason
Because he left her, she must make him
someone she doesn't love, rescripting as
deception their hand-clasped walks at dusk
It must have been lies:
each touching word, all thoughtfulness,
his shows of pleasure putting her first,
his endearing sex talk that first
amused her then got to her
(his hot moist breath the poison in her ear)
as he learned with seemingly selfless patience
how to move inside her as no one ever had before.
How can she change memories like these?
He must have been lying
because the man who did these things
could not leave her with no warning or reason.
But she knows he wasn't,
and, because she knows he wasn't,
she is stuck. No one can help her.
No one can enter the sacred circle they made together
she now wears as a necklace of fire.
How can she obliterate the person he is?
What is she to do? She has to live.
--Michael Ryan (The New Yorker, March 28, 2005)

I had saved this poem because I thought it was powerful, and could relate to parts of it. Granted I've never been IN love, but I know from my previous relationships/flings, how easily it is to start painting someone you once cared about in a bad light just so you can move on, even when you're the one who did the breaking up. I posted the poem for a friend though. Be strong Polar Bear!

If you can't stand the heat
STAY OFF THE NYC SUBWAYS!!

It was 84 degrees today on my way to work, this is the early morning mind you, and now it's going to go up to 96. I actually don't mind the heat or the humidity, having grown up in New York i'm used to it. However, I can't take waiting on the subway platforms in this heat. It's almost double the temperature. Women wave hand fans, blowing hot stale air on their faces for some sort of breeze, and nobody wants to sit on the benches, in fear they'll stick to them. Also the smell of BO on the trains are at an all time high as well as the occasional sweaty arm brush-by.

I usually take the express train to my office, but after waiting for 5 minutes in the oven slash underground, I jumped on the next local train that came my way, knowing it would at least be Air Conditioned. Which made the additional stops to Times Square worth it in order to just escape the temporary hell that is the subway platforms. Plus the local trains are usually less packed during rush hour, so I was able to get a seat instead of stretching up on my tiptoes to grab the overhead handle bars, while a guys backpack is rammed against my back.

Thank you Heidi for cabbing me home after dinner! You life saver you!

PS: You gotta love unexpected but desired phone calls! :)

PPS: Tom Cruise attacks Oprah lol, I guess Scientology is some pretty powerful stuff.

Checklist for Weekend in Connecticut
Buy Harry Potter book (check!)

Attend birthday party in SoNo (check!)

Dance on bar (check!)

Avoid hang over (negative)

By the numbers:


4 chicken fingers

2 shots

3 free drinks.

2 opened bottles of Merlot

1 spilled drink, oh, no make that 1 1/2.

2 business cards given out (but both to female friends!).

1 photo with the bartender.

0 bad phone messages left (phew!)

---
I always wanted to be able to do awesome Graffiti like this:


Make yours

Here's my card
I really need to stop doing that--giving out my business cards like they were life savers. I think I'm still not over the fact that I have professional cards and not just my personal "freelancer" VistaPrint ones, although I gave those out frequently too.

As you are probably guessing, I give them out most when I am tipsy at events, clubs and once on the subway platform. Sometimes I intend it as friendship, like 'hey, keep in touch, send an email and we'll hang out sometime.' Or you're cute and intelligent, wouldn't mind a call from you. And last but unfortunately not least, I'm wearing wine goggles (I don't drink beer) and look how thick and pretty these cards are.

So lately I've gotten a few No ID/Restricted calls and weird NYC numbers that I don't recognize. I was invited to the Brazilian Film Festival as a result though, lol.

While waiting for the film to start in Bryant Park the other night, my friends and I were talking about how a few months ago at my friends birthday party, when I gave my card to two of her guy friends and it caused a thing. I had met them before at another party and had liked hanging out with them, but one interpreted it that I was looking for a relationship. So I get a phone call saying "Hey, this is Mike," now I know several Mikes and stupidly assume it's my friend Mike and start chatting away until it got weird and I was like "WHO is this?" Turns out it was my friend's friend telling me that he's really busy right now and doesn't have time to spend with me. LOL! First of all, I was shocked that he thought I had meant more by giving him my card and then surprised he actually called to say he wasn't interested. Pretty brave of him. His other friend meanwhile probably thought I was being a player once they found out they both got my card. Grr, embarrassing.

Two nights ago at a Public Relations happy hour mixer, a place where it was appropriate to give out my business cards, I met a woman named Lisa who started DVDFanatic.com. The site is pretty cool and has lots of contests where you can win DVDs. Good luck!

My Dad's Bench
My father's favorite song was "Under the Boardwalk," oh and "Maggie May," but for the point of this story let's focus on the Boardwalk. When I think of summers growing up, I can't help but think of weekends at the New Jersey Shore with my dad and aunts, uncles and cousins. I used to go with my mother too, one week with her and then my father would head down, spend a day or two that would overlap, but my parents were always good friends even after they separated, so that was fine. Then I'd spend the rest of the week or a weekend with my father. We'd go to Pt. Pleasant, it was more family friendly than the nearby Seaside, which I'd venture later as I became a teenager. We'd stay at a hotel right on the boardwalk so we could enjoy the beach, pool and activities on the wooden pier. It really became a special annual trip for me and my dad. He taught me how to dive there and would spend way to much trying to win me a porcelain doll and Yankee jacket, both of which I still have and sadly still fit into (didn't grow too much).

So, when he passed away five years ago, my aunt who now has a condo in Pt. Pleasant had heard you could pay to get the new benches on the boardwalk personalized and dedicated. We immediately knew we had to get one for my father, Benny.

A few weeks ago, I got an email from an editorial intern at The Islander, which is a free publication in Pt. Pleasant and for the Shore asking if I was related to the Benny Settembre that is mentioned on the boardwalk bench, "Unforgettable Benny." I replied yes, that I was his daughter and answered a few questions for his article about the dedicated benches up and down the pier. It was definitely weird being on the other side of an interview, especially since the topic made me very emotional. Apparently he had found my email address via my blog, since I recenlty posted about my father on his birthday and included his full name. Pretty impressive investigative skills on his part!

Here's the article that resulted: Many of us simply take for granted the benches that line most boardwalks. They provide a place to sit and watch the waves or enjoy an ice cream cone.

For many people in Point Pleasant Beach, however, these benches honor and memorialize loved ones. (more) .