A very smart young lady and some silly pigeons

My talented and funny friend Lisa's talented and funny daughter Siena graduated from fifth grade this year with flying colors, and Friday night was the throwdown party to celebrate that fact. I decided to draw her a card, pictured here. But what to draw?

Well, it turns out there's a building SOMEWHERE in New York called the Siena, spelled exactly the way Siena spells her name. And when I went to look at it so I could draw it accurately, eight pigeons immediately snapped to and spelled out how they felt about Siena's spectacular report card. Then I looked closer at the building and noticed that the tenant on the top floor was either very excited about Siena's latest milestone too, or was just enthusiastic about fifth grade graduates in general. Whatever the case, I felt very lucky that events conspired in such a way and that I was able to capture at least some of the excitement.

Oh what a night

P and I spent an evening at the new Standard hotel in the meatpacking district this week. I was curious about the building as it stands over the newly open highline park and OK, from an architectural perspective at least, its not as super ugly and out of place as, say, the purplish Hotel Gansevoort on Hudson, which would look better in Miami or at the other end of a wrecking ball. Not that there aren't a lot of disconcerting things in that neighborhood these days already, especially for an old broad like myself who, I guess, relates more to the now-absent racks of hanging cow carcasses by day and streetwalkin' trannies by night than $400 haircuts and "Jeffrey."



But strangely, I felt right at home crashing for free in one of the Standard's deluxe rooms. (We were there as part of a press event for an intriguing new sleep product.) Here's the mysterious P getting to know the door hardware of our room.



It was a foggy night after a thoroughly rainy day and from our window it looked as if the top half of the Empire State Building disappeared.



But it was back the next morning. Phew!



I highly recommend taking advantage of anything that helps shake up your everyday perspective. It was fun being a tourist in my hometown, if only for a tiny blip of time.

What to do when you get tired of staring at your Vermeers

Perhaps you already saw one of the few articles published recently about the bowling alley in the basement of the Frick mansion.



But if you haven't, check it owt! This is exactly what I've always suspected are hidden in these grand old museums and former homes. I've long wondered why we can't see the art AND the private rooms the old timey rich folks. (I know, because in most cases they've been turned into the museums' offices. Bor-rang.)

In the case of the Frick game room, according to the Times, which has a great panorama of the lanes, the public isn't allowed in because there's only a single narrow staircase leading down to it and blah blah safety, fire hazard yak yak. I guess I'm going to have to befriend a Frick employee who will then feel a terrible stab of betrayal when they realize my interest in them was only about gaining entry to the ancient bowling alley but by then I'll realize I'm really fond of the Frick employee actually and will have to win their trust and affection back before the end of the movie.



I wonder what nutty rooms that grumpy old assassination-inspirin' industrialist had in Eagle Rock, his summer estate. We'll never know, sadly, as this wee 'lil manse was razed 40 years ago.

Talk about stopping traffic

My sister lives in a beautiful place where an everyday occurrence might include having to pause while some colorful plumage makes its way across the street.

Sure, as P reminded me, there are peacocks strutting around New York City, too. Up at St. John the Divine, to be specific.

But it's not the same, man. It's not the same!

I wonder what the peacock was thinking as he/she walked away. I'm soooo over people staring at me. Or crap, I forgot to pick up the dry cleaning.

Stretching class

Two cat posts in a row. Interesting. Well, all the time spent at my desk lately writing has allowed me to observe cat behavior in my apartment more closely.



I had no idea Olive and Beatrix were taking advantage of the new stretching book I bought recently. I'm sorry the image is so dark, it's due to some serious stealth photography. I'm impressed by Olive holding her stretch for longer than several long minutes. Good for you, Olive. Beatrix was resting on the book after practicing some ambitious stretches of her own.

Have you ever heard of Stretching by Bob and Jean Anderson? It's been out since the 70s and has great, clear line drawings by Jean that show you exactly what ya gotta do. Here's an image I got from Amazon; most of the pages are more spare than this, just the drawings and no text, which I love.