Random Update on My Life

Dried cranberries from Fairway are my new favorite snack, and I'm eating them now and getting my keyboard all sticky, but I have to eat something because I'm starving and my roommates aren't coming home for another hour, but when they do we're going to have an enchilada feast with nachos too, and fancy cream soda, and even a few guests. But it's been a long time since lunch, a dried out street kebab on a bun, eaten on my too-short break from my too-long work day. The Park Avenue Armory has been my home for the past five days as I've been working the SOFA show. I'm ready for it to be over, but tomorrow is the last, longest, day. And I've got no Harlem church picture to post today because I have had no time to even take pictures. All my waking hours have been spent working. Then again, the work is kind of fun. Despite being on my feet all day on an old creaky wooden floor, I've been surrounded by a magnificent assortment of sculpture, jewelry, and objects d'art. Each exhibitor surpasses the next, and the pieces are all truly amazing. And I get to wear some pretty spectacular jewelry. Today I was bedecked in a silver spider-web made of delicate chain that draped over my shoulders and fell around me like a shimmery veil. It attracted much attention, which I could then deflect to the artist, who was there with me, putting her jewelry on any woman who stopped long enough. Then there are the people, the shoppers, the rich aesthetes of New York. One-of-a-kind would describe each one, each trying to surpass the other with her arts and crafts clothing, huge chunky jewelry, and artfully sculptured hair and makeup. Or, they are so rich and eccentric that they look like they've wandered in from a Central Park bench, and don't care. One woman today was describing to me an item of jewelry she owns, a very expensive item, which "must be somewhere but I can't find it under all the newspaper." It's times like this that make me think that wealth is wasted on the rich. If I had money to spend on those sorts of things, I would do a much better job of it. For one thing, I wouldn't make myself look like a clown to show off my wealth, and I wouldn't lose my treasures in a messy house. I would, however, take taxis everywhere instead of running in my heels all the way from Park Avenue to Madison in order to catch the crosstown bus that took me to the subway train where I had to wait a full half hour for my train to come and give me a very slow ride uptown with very interesting underground views of noisy construction work. Yes, I would be fine spending my money on taxi rides.