Tag: New York

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Annual Trek to Brooklyn's Finest Stretch of Sand!

Every summer I must go out at least once to Brighton Beach / Coney Island. I don’t know why, really; I just feel like it’s not a proper summer without it! I usually take a day off of work around mid-May, before it gets too crowded and humid, but this year I must have been too busy because I never made it. Now that our fiscal year’s over at work and I have a couple of vacation days I must take before Labor Day, I looked up on weather.com to see which day this week would be most ideal weather-wise, only to find that it’s going to be rainy and cloudy and fall-like temperatures all week — Saturday was the only day with a little sun icon 🙁 So, I decided to brave the weekend crowds and went out yesterday. It’s kind of more fun that way anyway!

Here’s a little photo essay:

Fun in the sun! And relatively nice blue water.


Beside sunbathing, I love the town. Brighton Beach is very Russian; many people are new immigrants and hardly speak English. I love shopping in these stores, flipping through the Russian romance novels, the Russian videos and CDs, seeing if I can understand anything. I must have a very slavic-looking face; have actually been told several times that I look Eastern European, which is funny because I think I’m more Spanish-looking with my olive skin and dark hair… Anyway, everyone here assumes I’m Russian and begins conversations with me in Russian. Gives me a decent chance to practice my Russian — although, who’m I kidding; I haven’t had any classes since college, I barely remember the Cyrillic alphabet… Most of them don’t know any English anyway, so it makes no difference once they realize I have no idea what they’re saying and then I massacre their language with my hideous American accent. We end up gesticulating wildly with each other — just like in St. Petersberg, the one time I went to Russia, several years ago now — best foreign travel experience of my life!

I remember trying to impress Pasha once by telling him I came out here regularly and he just made this goofy smirk and rolled his eyes. I said, “What?!” and asked him why he didn’t come out here to get a taste of his homeland, be with people with whom he had so much in common. He said that just because someone’s Russian doesn’t mean they’re going to be your friend. I asked him why not; he mumbled something about generation gaps, culture clashes, judgments… It’s kind of sad, but I remember seeing that documentary Ballets Russes about that early 20th Century ballet company (a great movie by the way), and I remember one of the Russian ballerinas laughing and saying that Russians don’t like each other very much. They love us, they love everyone else, but it does seem like they don’t get along with each other very well for some reason.

Anyway, after I finished with the Dom Kniga (bookstore; or literally, house of books), I walked along the boardwalk down to Coney Island.


where they have the huge amusement park. I’ve only been on one ride — the giant ferris wheel, when my roommate from law school, Chris, and I came out here years ago. I was so terrified; that thing is so high off the ground. Chris, who normally had a very tough exterior, admitted as soon as we were safely on the ground that, when we were at full height, she was a bit worried too, though her way of so indicating was to say that she realized, if we were killed on the ride, our estates wouldn’t be able to sue because we’d assumed the risk… typical law students 🙂

And here’s the famous Cyclone, which I think they are supposed to be taking down at some point in the future (?), but apparently not yet, behind this cute froggie ride.

Haha, one of the many lovely eateries aligning the boardwalk on the Coney Island part. This one caught my attention because the name reminded me of dance 🙂 Do you think they misspelled “hole” on purpose??

This kind of freaked me out. They had this guy running around behind some garbage cans with a helmet and shield and people paid to shoot him with what I think was a BB gun?…


Can’t ever go to the beach without a little stop at the aquarium!

Where I saw all manner of wonderful sea creatures. If I was an animal, I’d either want to be a cute little primate denizen of the warm gooey rainforest or some kind of marine animal who inhabits warm waters…

Big, fattypants walrus entertained the crowd greatly 🙂

As did this saucer-eyed giant turtle. I love the woman with the camera. Everyone has digitals these days. No wonder you never see postcards anymore.

Ooh, scary shark, my biggest animal fear. This little girl was adorable though.

They have a couple of seals in this tank that used to be inhabited by the adorably cherubic white beluga whale. He died a couple of years ago and I think he’s too expensive for them to replace, but I always loved coming to see that little whale and his cute little “smiley face.”


Walking back along the boardwalk to Brighton, so I could dine at my favorite Russian restaurant, Tatiana’s (!), I passed this volleyball tournament. Must have been a big deal because they had bleachers set up and there was a big crowd.

The boardwalk kind of scared me. Some of those planks were quite loose, and the street was far below!


If you want to make lots of money off of a food or drink item, just call it “Naked”!

Final desination: Tatiana’s, on the boardwalk, getting my annual fill of caviar (red not black, I can’t afford $120 for lunch!), with sour cream and red wine. Mmmm, so good…

but so filling. Even though it always looks so small, I can never finish it all and I always feel badly for wasting such good food! Summer reading, by the way, New York Magazine restaurant critic Gael Greene’s memoir “Insatiable.” This woman cracks me up: when she was a fledgling journalist, she slept with Elvis after getting herself admitted to his suite following one of his shows by playing up her press credentials. She was in such shock the whole time that all she could remember about the entire thing was that he asked her to call room service for him and order him a fried egg sandwich. She said she knew she was destined to be a food writer after that 🙂

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I want to be a seahorse…

I want to be a seahorse…

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.


Can never resist a stop at Coney Island Aquarium when I’m here. My favorites are the little seahorses — so delicate and dancerly the way they move about, coiling their long, windy tails around a small sea plant while snaking around with their upper bodies searching for food on the ocean floor or a piece of coral. They graze constantly & never get fat 🙂

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Flabbergasted

Okay, I must admit, since SYTYCD began this season, several of my most intelligent friends would, if they were lawyers or writers, roll their eyes and snicker, or if they were serious arts journalists, make much more pained faces, whenever I chirped poetic about the show. They found it, at best just a silly waste of time, at worst demeaning and harmful to the art of dance. I would get really angry: my friend was on the show, and he’d had so many ups and downs, had just come out of a long illness, the ballroom competition judges who ruled his world could be so very nasty — I was so thrilled that he was finally getting his due, that the public supported him the way it did. I’d never really watched the show in prior seasons, and I couldn’t understand how my friends couldn’t see how amazing the show was to give people like Pasha such brilliant opportunities. Now he’s off, along with my blinders; I hate to say it, but my friends were so right.

First, the dancers who are left … they’re just nothing like what I’ve seen live, and it’s such a shame. Just because Danny is from ballet doesn’t mean he’s a perfect representative from that world. To me he doesn’t have the charisma, the personality of, say, Angel Corella, or my favorite. And he doesn’t have the virtuosity of David Hallberg or Ethan Stiefel — his legs don’t fully extend out into the splits when he jumps, like theirs do, and he doesn’t do hard combinations, he just does a bunch of turns, then a bunch of jumps, then a bunch of turns again. And what was all that crazy gymnastics at the end? Why didn’t he combine things into a difficult routine? The public is being cheated if they think this is real ballet. Yeah, he’s technically better than the others left on the show, but who cares when everyone’s a bore? Who wants to watch a show with no competition?

The good thing about Pasha was that he was so good at something so different than Danny. So, the public was seeing two very good dancers who excelled in their own styles — it was like people got a good taste of two wholly different points of view.

I think both because Pasha’s gone and because Danny’s not making ballet come alive to me, Danny’s completely wrong cha cha, which might otherwise have been cute since it was wrong but was ballet-dancer wrong, instead totally annoyed me. I remember seeing Jose Carreno dance salsa in his native Cuba in the film Born To Be Wild and thinking, hehehe, that’s not Salsa, that’s Ballet-Salsa! The reason ballet dancers can’t do Latin properly is because you have to settle fully into your hip in order to look properly grounded; ballet dancers have a natural turn-out, so if they settle properly, into a turned-out hip, they’re really going to grind to bits whatever cartilage is there, which means end of ballet career. So, no settling, no grounding, no proper hip action. But watching Jose in that movie was charming, because then you got to see him perform an absolutely breathtaking, beatific Don Quixote right in front of Castro. So, you got to be blown away seeing him do what he DOES. Not so here with Danny. And you don’t get a proper version of Cha Cha since Pasha’s off. And Lacey and Neil’s Lindy Hop: eh, they did what they could with it, but it’s just that if you’ve seen real Swing dancers, you know how not there it really was.

Second, what the HELL was that choreography — particularly the so-called contemporary? The Swing and the Cha Cha were fine because those dances are supposed to be cute, not meaningful, not thought-provoking, not profound, not poetic, not moving the viewer to a higher level. (Not that Latin can never do that — I very badly one day want to see Bodas de Sangre, the Latin dance version of the Garcia Lorca play.) But, those are the reasons we go to see concert dance. What was that hideous fox thing whoever choreographed for Lacey and Sabra? How am I supposed to be moved by mommy and baby fox-people doing whatever in God’s name they were supposed to be doing to each other? What was I as a viewer supposed to get out of that? And what was that 80s Adam Ant thing Mia Michaels forced poor Danny and Neil to do with each other? Is it too much to ask for serious choreographers? Lar Lubovitch for a male duet, anyone? Twyla Tharp for contemporary combined with social to brilliant effect, anyone?

No, you see, real choreographers are used to dealing with professionals. More than anything tonight I was absolutely appalled at the extreme immaturity of those dancers. Pasha never would have acted like such a child. Making fun of the choreographers to their faces, making fun of dance, making fun of a foreign language? I’m so embarrassed for Lacey that she doesn’t know better, that she doesn’t know how horridly unsophisticated she looked. I’m so embarrassed to admit that I can’t understand spoken French very well, and she’s flaunting her ignorance like that. I just … on so many levels, I’ve never seen such puerile, such beyond juvenile behavior. I just, I’m honestly in shock. I liked Lacey too before tonight.

Melanie LaPatin — bless that woman. God bless her. For the first time, she actually gets her day as choreographer, out from Tony Meredith’s shadow. Let me tell you, that woman is a slave-driving hard-ass — one reason I love her. She makes you work like you’ve never worked before in her studio — unlike Tony; he’s a softie 🙂 In a good way — we love him too, just for that 🙂 But Melanie takes no shit whatsoever, and I really thought she was going to lose it here. You know she didn’t because she had to smile pretty for that stupid ass camera. Bless her soul; she’s a far bigger woman than I am.

I was so mortified, after the show ended, I had to go outside and take a long walk, had to reassure myself there were were people with pulses, with brainwaves, on this planet, whose eyes had not been glued to their TV for the past two hours. Sure enough, wine bars were overflowing with twenty and thirty-something hipsters engaged in conversation, take-away ice cream parlors with happy-faced children and parents, coffeehouses and bookstores with people engaged in mental activity. Ah, people with lives. As of now, count me one of them.

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"As Far As We Know" on the Fringe

On Saturday night my friend, Evangelina, invited me to a play showing as part of the currently underway NYC Fringe Festival, in which her husband, Michael Batelli, was an actor. I’ve never been to the Fringe Festival before, and haven’t been to a dramatic play in a while, so it was quite a treat.

“As Far As We Know” is a fictional re-imagining of the true story of an Army reservist who went missing in Iraq in April 2004 after his convoy was ambushed en route to Baghdad. Five days later, Al-Jazeera TV broadcast a videotape showing that 20-year-old reservist (whose real name is Keith Maupin but is here given the name Jake Larkin) surrounded by masked men. Six weeks later, another videotape emerged, showing, possibly, some kind of execution, though the tape was of such poor quality that the Army deemed it “inconclusive” both of whether it indeed showed a slaying, and whether, if so, it was actually that of Maupin. Unlike with all other military persons, journalists, and missionaries shown in similar tapes, Maupin’s body was never recovered, and there has been no word from him or his captors ever since. The Army has since promoted Maupin three times, in abstentia, and his family and friends in his hometown of Batavia, Ohio, continue hopefully to await his return.

I’m embarrassed to admit, but, somehow I’d never heard of Maupin. It’s impossible of course not to find his story immensely powerful and poignant, but I was also intrigued by the fact that, to this day, nearly three years later, there’s been no closure. Captors have been so up front with other kidnappings; either they were oddly out of step on this one, Maupin is still being held, or as the play hints, there was some kind of Army coverup. According to the play the ambush was partly the result of information sent by a Private to an incorrect email address, and Larkin’s drill sergeant, who later left the Army disillusioned, tells Larkin’s sister she believes the troops received inadequate training, ultimately confiding that she feels partly responsible.

The story was, interestingly, told in non-linear fragments and used mixed media (videoclips –both actual footage and tapes filmed by the actors — were interspersed with the staging). My only problem was that I found it a little too unwieldy and lacking in focus, which is, I’d assume, wont to happen when something is directed by the entire ensemble instead of a single person. It was, by turns, about Larkin’s family members and how they dealt with the situation, about the politics of the possible Army coverup, and about the Army personnel assigned to assist the family and act as go-between between family, military and media. Kelly Van Zile, who played Larkin’s sister, was a powerhouse of an actress and she really made me feel the sister’s pain as well as her internalized conflict between anger at and desperate need to believe in the military.

But it’s pretty obvious how the sister is going to feel. I thought a more dramatically interesting focus would be the young female Army captain charged, in her first assignment, with acting as liaison between the Army and the family. At the beginning of her portion of the story, she is shown listening to a tape dictating the proper way to break horrible news to a family: succinctly and with restrained compassion. With the Larkin family, of course, since there is no such “news” but only indefinite puzzlement, her job is near impossible, and infinite in duration (the Army moves her into a hotel down the street from the Larkins). The most powerful, most human scenes are those where the sister’s pain permeates the captain’s continuous attempt at a tough exterior and the captain gives in — first allowing the sister to keep hold of an all-important cell phone giving her instant access to the Pentagon (and on-the-spot news of Larkin), then writing personal checks to pay the distraught family’s utility bills, and eventually, against firm orders, allowing the family to attend an emotional homecoming for the soldiers returning from Larkin’s unit.

Glitches aside, though, it was a very compelling play and I’m definitely going to keep my ears open now for info about Maupin.

I’m late in getting this post up seeing as how it’s now mid-week, but kind of coincidental given that I received an email today from one of our servicemen, Paul, from Stamford, Connecticut, now serving in Iraq. Paul tells me that he’s enjoying learning some salsa dancing over there. Thanks for emailing, Paul. Take care of yourself, and please come home safe and sound 🙂 Oh, and of course please let us know how your salsa is coming along!

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Wine & Roses II

Wine & roses ii

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.


So, said ravioli was excellent. Though lacking in presentation (plate contained a bunch of pasta squares and single small green thing thrown on the side), taste was scrumptious — pasta was thick & ever so slightly crunchy the way Italians make it (rather than overcooked to near death in American manner) and mouthwateringly salty! Waiters v cute — one a Paul Rudd lookalike; other cross btw Pasha and Nikolaj Hubbe. Cute street cafe outdoors, and very comfy indoor area — bar stools are large and well-padded for a bony butt, and several tables with long booths on one side surround the bar. Oh yeah, and enormous wine list! Riesling was lovely. Perfect place to spend my whole day almost finishing my book 🙂 I have a new favorite!

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Mouse King Update

Thanks you guys for all of your help and suggestions on what to do about my new little “pet” 🙂 I’m just now seeing them this morning since all day yesterday I avoided the apartment! Yesterday in the park I completely freaked out over a puppy daschund. I was walking along and didn’t see him until he wagged his little tail at me, causing me to jump sky high. I don’t think he’d ever had that kind of reaction to his presence before and the poor little thing began whimpering; his owner looked at me like I was on something… I then realized how ridiculous it is to be afraid of a tiny little mouse, who, from his behavior yesterday, is likely far more afraid of me: I braved the shower yesterday only to hear some messing about in the kitchen right when I opened the bathroom door. I first screamed, then peered around the door just in time to see him do a swan dive behind the stove. I screamed again and shut myself in the bathroom for 1/2 hour more. When I emerged, I ran over to my desk, far from the kitchen, sat and turned the computer on, when I saw his little shadow coming out from under the nearby futon. I screamed and he turned around and went back underneath! That was the last I saw him, nearly 24 hours ago (but of course I’ve only been in the apartment for about 10 of those hours, and mostly sleeping up in my loft, where my mom told me he wouldn’t climb???) I’m very lazy and never cook in the apartment, so don’t really have much for him to nibble on in here; maybe he got bored and decided to look for a snack elsewhere. Of course, I’m sure he’s still somewhere in the building. I’m not going to be bringing my usual takeout in, though, think I’ll be eating out for the next few days 🙂

One good thing coming out of it: for the first time in about two years, I got the nerve to talk to the cute but slightly odd Russian guy next door (just from some odd noises he makes over there — one time I wasn’t sure if he was having an epilectic seizure or sex; I honestly sat there in my loft worrying about whether I should be calling 911 on him). Well, I realized he’s very nice and approachable and smart, and not too weird at all! (He told me to use the trap that kills them instantly though to be more humane). M, I never thought of putting those glue traps in the freezer! I fear I’d never put another food morsel in that freezer though! I think if I see him again, I’ll take Melinda’s suggestion and try to find a non-deadly trap where I can just run the thing outside, although I’d probably scream and he’d fly off the second I touched it… I’d love to get another cat, Philip, but my blasted allergist keeps telling me I’m allergic. Actually, I had quite a crush on that doctor, though I could never figure out if he was gay — he looked like a 50-something version of Rupert Everett 🙂 Maybe this is a good reason to go back, tell him I need another allergy-to-cats test!

Thanks again for the comments 🙂 I’m was thinking, geez, what a horrible pig I am that I’ve actually attracted a mouse, so glad to know I’m far from the only one! This definitely beats the water snake who climbed up a toilet in my dorm in Arizona. It wasn’t my room, but I still didn’t go the bathroom for days…

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Help help please please

Help help please please

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.


I was sitting on my couch contently reading my new saira rao book when for the first time ever something darted across my floor. I have never ever had a mouse problem ever — ever! Likely because i used to have a cat (who passed away not long ago) what to do what to do what to do! I absolutely cannot kill anyone — how do i nicely entice him or her out??? How do i even find it?