The Academy

Blogging about nothing.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?
Saturday, August 23, 2003
 
Well, well. The Perfect Candidate.

Who would have thought that within this giant list one would find the perfect candidate. Look at her platform! I could have written it myself. And although you might think the whole thing is a parody, I assure you it's not. Now if only everyone were so enlightened.

Georgy Russell, you have my vote.


Monday, August 18, 2003
 
Darkness

For all you people out in sunny California, I think you need to understand just how dark it was last Thursday night in NYC. After all, I imagine California to be a place where it's never really dark. There's just a brief period of time between when the last lights in L.A. are dimmed and dawn.

It was SO dark (as I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and on to Park Slope) that I could not see more than a foot or so ahead of me. In fact, I had a repeated disconcerting experience where I thought I was completely alone on the sidewalk only to hear breathing or footsteps immediately in front of or behind me. It was SO dark, in fact, that the Daily News reported that some New Yorkers could see stars on Thursday night. And it wasn't just because they had been bashed over the head by a baseball bat wielding looter.

Actually, I was impressed by the calm, matter-of-fact attitude demonstrated by most people I passed on Thursday night. I only saw a few drunk people, and I couldn't be too critical of them because I believed (and continue to believe) that the only sensible thing to do when you have no power in August is to drink (a lot). I didn't see any looting, but I certainly witnessed some seriously gross monopolistic behavior. Isn't a crime for cab drivers to hike fares in an emergency?

Overall, the Blackout of 2003 wasn't too bad for me. I mean, my fiance had to walk the length of the NYC marathon to get home, but I'm confident that he'll be able to walk down an aisle in a few months. And my feet were feeling ok by the end of Friday (much aided by not going to work and sleeping lots). Of course, sore feet never prevented any woman I know from strapping on some heels and appearing in public to be fussed over.