Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Homophobia's New York Home

As much as I love their Signature Salad, Cosi (the coffee shop/sandwich chain with so-so coffee) has done gone and pissed me off (allegedly). From an email alert someone forwarded me this morning:
"Last night, I went to the opening of an exhibit at a Cosi restaurant here in New Rochelle, sponsored by the Empire State Pride Agenda. The exhibit features about 35 pictures of same sex couples, framed in rainbow colors, each with a few words about why marriage equality is important. It's a very simple, and very powerful, exhibition, and felt very personal for me, seeing the movement that I've helped to build come to my hometown for the first time.

And now, a day later, we need to come together to fight ignorance: Cosi corporate has announced that they will be TAKING THE EXHIBIT DOWN THIS MORNING (Wed 2/28) at 11:00 AM, in response to numerous complaints and threats the corporation has received from anti-gay people. We need to let Cosi know that the symbolism of their cowardice will not be lost on anyone, and that, if they follow through with this repudiation of their own gesture of openness, they're going to lose a hell of a lot of business from fair-minded people here in New York and all their markets across the country."
If any of this pisses you off you can leave a comment on Cosi's corporate website, or better yet, call the New Rochelle store to voice your displeasure at 914-637-8300.

Friday, February 23, 2007

Shameless Self Promotion

I'm all about the country music this week. Check out my Sex Advice from Country Musicians for Nerve and my story about the Johnny Cash Birthday Bash for the Brooklyn Papers (disclaimer, I did not include, or approve the inclusion of, the Yiddish in my nut graph... a shiksa writing about country music? Come on. Nor is that my conclusion. Just needed to state that.)

Monday, February 12, 2007

You Know You've Made it When article you've written has been cited in a text book. [Item 1, Row 5]

Yes, it was a crappy round-up I wrote on beauty companies selling special products for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Yes, I wrote it while doing a college internship at Women's Wear Daily. Yes, there was "additional reporting from." And, yes, the text book is the third edition of Marketing Management, which is only available online.

You also know you google yourself too much when you find this out on page 15 of your name. At 1:32 a.m.

Sunday, February 11, 2007


Question: At what point does one really become an adult? Because I'm going through this quarter-life crisis thing (don't worry, I'll save the long version for some low-rent chick mag). There are times I still feel like I'm a teenager, or even a kid, pretending to be an adult, but when I look at it objectively (I'm 24, have been living on my own since I was 18, bitch about my bills every day and have far surpassed puberty), I'm just a bad adult. And then I have these terrifying moments when I realize that I am absolutely an adult.

Last night was one of them. I spent the evening--a Friday, mind you--sitting in front of the TV, drinking beer and watching an entire hour of QVC. At the end of said hour, I placed my first ever QVC order. And I say things like "mind you."

Thursday, February 08, 2007


This set of 5,000-6,000-year-old skeletons, found by archaeologists in Italy might possibly be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Does that make me morbid?
Embracing skeletons

Grammar Police

I've had my fair share of complaints about Gothamist's total disregard for the English language, but this time they've gone too far. They sound like a 17-year-old at a mall in Independence, Missouri (I'm from Independence; I can say that). Maybe it's a little insensitive to complain about this--considering the nature of the post--but somebody get Jen Chung Carlson a grammar lesson:
"Seems a bit odd that her son and her would both die within months of each other, and you know, there's a lot of money at stake."
Here's a little screen shot in case they decide to fix that.

Diet Pills are Bad, Mmmmmmkay?

R.I.P. Anna Nicole Smith.