tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22657971695108397082011-11-27T19:28:32.223-05:00The universe is conspiring against us. Well, me.Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-74377656902902794542011-07-26T13:57:00.000-04:002011-07-26T13:57:40.296-04:00

I've decided to consolidate this here blog and my Tumblr blog and various other things to make one MASSIVE UBERBLOG, viewable here: www.hopeeewing.com.  That's right--my own domain! All future updates and clips available there.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-19876197402586950192011-07-20T23:52:00.000-04:002011-07-20T23:52:15.833-04:00

Dawn Raffel's editor's letter from the latest issue of The Literarian, the lit mag produced by one of my favorite New York literary institutions, the Center for Fiction, included this tongue-in-cheek commentary about the phenomenon of "beach reads" in attempting to endorse its lineup of literary authors:  My husband has pointed out to me that normal people don’t enjoy reading Dante’s Inferno on

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-84685182172695734202011-07-09T14:49:00.000-04:002011-07-09T14:49:06.278-04:00

I'm about two-thirds of the way through Just Kids, extremely belatedly, as it was almost a year ago  that I got the book at her reading/talk for the PEN Festival at Cooper Union. The reading was awesome, but because it takes me years to read anything that's not under deadline, here I am. I can't effing believe how much I like this book.  It's chock full of dropped names from late-60's rock &

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-74144242881501720332011-06-28T12:35:00.000-04:002011-06-28T12:35:57.376-04:00

Who's hit the big time of badass free content? That's right. This girl. With the thumbs. Check me out on the The Nervous Breakdown.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-19658148216860161642011-05-02T14:20:00.000-04:002011-05-02T14:20:25.140-04:00

Interview with Molly Jong-Fast, author of The Social Climber's Handbook (Villard 2011) In the world of Molly Jong-Fast’s comic novel The Social Climber’s Handbook, zip codes and social status go together like white on rich people. Her cast of Upper East Side mums and philandering financiers function as if morality, like riding the subway, is something poor people do. Set in the summer of 2008

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-86569955782655257252011-04-29T11:20:00.000-04:002011-04-29T11:20:07.994-04:00

The Social Climber's Handbook: A Novel by Molly Jong-Fast My rating: 4 of 5 stars This book is funny.  It's self-aware. It's a smart beach read. Breezing through my advance copy on my commute every day, I wished I was reading this at the Hamptons, preferably wearing a black sarong and a huge-brimmed black hat with sunglasses that cover at least 1/3 of my face. The first thing I learned when I

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-8653658612569376812011-04-08T11:12:00.000-04:002011-04-08T11:12:09.187-04:00

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Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-18112247115679966842011-03-31T22:51:00.000-04:002011-03-31T22:51:17.196-04:00

I’ve been eating sushi for 10 years, since I first lived near a Wegmans in college. Every time I eat it, it gives me heartburn and puts my stomach off for a day or two. I don’t know if it’s the rawness, the wasabi, whatever. But still, about once a week someone proposes dinner out, and 4 out of 5 times I say “Yes!  How about sushi?” When I first moved to New York, Pong and I used to go out

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-28529286756802731052011-03-16T22:19:00.000-04:002011-03-16T22:19:58.608-04:00

I wish I thought of this sooner, I could have gotten paid for it!  Or at least, paid in readership, as these things often are. Tardi-tardi-tar!  It's Saint Paddies' day in New York!  The largest confluence of voluntary ethnic stereotyping since Columbus Day! I.  Fecking. Hate this day. It's just like New Year's: suddenly, the world has converged on your home and is using it to throw a KEGGER.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-14179567277735189792011-03-15T02:09:00.000-04:002011-03-15T02:09:55.618-04:00

Thanks to the loving promotion of Stephen Elliot in his Daily Rumpus emails, I've gotten way into Horn! Reviews, to name just one of the many quality Rumpus-y comics. This happens to coincide with me taking Ariel Schrag's graphic novel course at The New School.  I love Ariel as an author and as a teacher, though admittedly it took me some time to get used to her easy Northern-Cal style.  But make

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-42908503939469917162011-03-08T11:47:00.000-05:002011-03-08T11:47:52.748-05:00

I've talked so much about moving over the past few weeks that I decided to do it again.  Clips and whimsical type updates are moving to Tumblr, to see if I can wrangle all this virtual socializing into one place.  Since I am a hoarder, however, I will not be shuttering this site or any of the others. ahem. Thanks for the server space, world. I know it's more than my share. 

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-34124290596008041012011-03-07T14:34:00.001-05:002011-03-07T14:35:41.310-05:00

Thanks to DPomerico and the good people at Suvudu (Del Rey Spectra SF/F) for the chance to contribute to the most awesome 2011 Cage Match.  Readable here. I have to admit: I'm kind of with some of the commenters there thinking that Takeshi Kovacs would probably take out Lord Snow in a fair fight.  But this is not a fair fight. Kovacs is weakened by his new sleeve and new surroundings and you

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-67867191663103633572011-03-02T11:15:00.002-05:002011-03-02T11:17:14.797-05:00

Print, baby! Haaaard copy. Go pick yourself up one today. The Great Haul, New York Press.I'll be over here, having my Mary Tyler Moore moment.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-45158909014829979352011-02-27T18:56:00.002-05:002011-02-27T19:04:00.573-05:00

When a site I love as much as The Hairpin links to my humiliation piece! So I try to comment and act cool when really all I wanna do it pant "Huh-hi Edith. Yeah, that totally IS out of control. ITHINKYOU'RESOCOOLSQUEEEEEE."I mean, uh, cough. Yeah. Sure is cool to be a girl.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-57514973027859279602011-02-24T13:35:00.002-05:002011-02-24T13:40:50.366-05:00

Thanks in great part to the lovely instructors Rachel Aydt and Susan Shapiro at the New School, I have finally worked up the gumption to submit pieces for publication outside this blog. What better way to start than with something fantastically humiliating? Gotta love The Frisky. Or not. But I do.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-83531641147049125202011-01-28T00:15:00.002-05:002011-04-19T11:02:09.043-04:00

Reading Women: How the Great Books of Feminism Changed My Life by Stephanie Staal My rating: 4 of 5 stars Stephanie Staal was facing an identity crisis. Relocated from NYC to Annapolis after giving birth to her daughter, she was confused, isolated and definitely did not fit in with the local mommy klatch. One day she randomly takes another look at the old Feminine Mystique. Cue epiphany:

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-33735117787543530772011-01-07T14:01:00.001-05:002011-04-19T11:03:09.026-04:00

The Ask by Sam Lipsyte My rating: 4 of 5 stars The Ask evoked bouts of uncontrolled laughter and wincing during my daily commutes from my apartment in Astoria to my fundraising job in Manhattan. Why all the wincing? Because Milo, Lipsyte's lovably unlikeable protagonist, is a mediocre development officer who lives in Astoria and works in Manhattan. This book is a caricature of class,

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-90495711120559821322010-12-20T17:39:00.003-05:002011-04-19T11:03:43.358-04:00

Drinking Closer to Home: A Novel by Jessica Anya Blau My rating: 3 of 5 stars Something about this book—I can't put my finger on if it's the sunny Santa Barbara setting, the languorous nostalgic passages, or the family drama—made me wish I was reading it on a beach on a lazy August afternoon rather than waiting for the bus in a subzero NYC winter. Drinking Closer to Home is everything it

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-65793069574486874862010-08-24T01:28:00.004-04:002011-04-19T11:04:24.231-04:00

My mother, known privately among her children as Debbie Downer, loves to tell horrible stories. I will never forget years ago while rolling out pie crusts for Thanksgiving, listening to her relate a news item about an area toddler that had been sexually assaulted by the family dog. The child was going to be okay, physically, and the dog was not being put down just yet pending the police

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-79663452418487846852010-06-30T13:14:00.004-04:002011-04-19T11:04:59.247-04:00

A little side-effect from working in theater education. Ms.Miyagi, New York, NY, was born and lovingly reared by her father and 18 siblings in the tiny hamlet of Ashford, far out in the unfashionable end of New York State. She discovered an irrepressible passion for acting at a very young age, when at the tender age of five she took on the role of Elizabeth Proctor in the St. Aloysius school

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-55601277649299600542010-04-22T17:11:00.003-04:002010-04-22T17:17:25.758-04:00

There is an inherent danger in plays written by actors, that the soliloquy will take precedence over dramatic subtlety, that the playwright will abuse the audience with too much conflict instead of allowing us to draw our own conclusions. Derek Ahonen’s latest offering from The Amoralists, Happy in the Poorhouse, comes as close as they have come thus far to overcoming this. The Amoralists,

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-54266202736304872752010-03-27T01:26:00.001-04:002010-03-27T01:30:46.455-04:00

One thing you notice after 10 or 15 years of romantic relationships is that you absorb things. Not just the casual infection, though this has been known to happen from time to time, but tastes, interests, obsessions. When I was with M. I learned who D’Angelo, Medesky Martin and Wood and Soulive were and the thriving state of the niche interest of contemporary jazz. From him I’ve carried with

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-91630544287173402802009-08-24T16:20:00.002-04:002009-08-24T16:24:19.572-04:00

It's 9 am. I'm walking Miyagi around the block, or halfway around the block, as this is as far as he will make it in this heat. Little guy is built for hot weather with his spindly chihuahua legs but he is still wearing a fur coat. Not looking forward to the day ahead, as it has not really yet begun and I've already had an encounter with a crazy person. My line of work frequently brings me in

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-12805491972753169552009-08-17T17:19:00.001-04:002009-08-17T17:21:43.207-04:00

Our one hour of direct sunlight creeps in, starting at 8 a.m. when my alarm goes off for the first time. Through successive snoozes, I find the heat coming through the blinds prickling on my skin; heat building up where the sheet is tangled around my pyjama'd torso. Miyagi rolls away from me, sits up, paws at my face. He needs to be let down from the too-high bed to drink from his water dish. He

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-67079464297755160122009-07-22T21:34:00.002-04:002009-07-22T21:45:44.642-04:00

Email Message from: jane.doh@gmail.comjane.doh@gmail.com to me show details 7:32 PM (2 hours ago)re: Clothing Swap (show quoted text)You are emailing the wrong person. Please inform the person you were trying to email that they keep giving out my email address to people.Yes, Jane. I'm fairly certain the other Jane Doh I was attempting to email is giving

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-47271955944227092462009-07-14T18:30:00.000-04:002009-07-14T18:11:24.131-04:00

At a family function last month, I discovered that 3 of my newly college-graduated cousins are going into the AmeriCorps program this fall, as these seem to be the only jobs available to them. I've been noticing lately that things I've been doing for years -- EG, being a huge cheapskate -- are cropping up as novel and chic tips in fashion magazines and morning shows like crazy this year. I knew,

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-39138507577646244832009-07-12T23:48:00.003-04:002009-07-13T00:27:46.350-04:00

Since I moved in with my very dear and close friend Robin last year, our friendship has become even dearer and closer than ever before. We share the mundane details of our work life, our family and romantic foibles, and our foodstuffs. We came through the anxiety and joy of the 2008 election and a nasty bout of mono that affected both of us and our respective boyfriends at the time,* and have

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-36005188122653945462009-07-01T17:19:00.003-04:002011-03-02T14:06:48.904-05:00

It’s totally depressing. The more I hear about these EQ-centered marshmallow tests and the importance of self-control for academic and career success, the more I dismay. One would think as an adult, having come through the halls of at least one higher education establishment, I would have developed some skills to deal with life’s little temptations. But no. One menacing figure in my work life

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-54303026778608366692009-05-18T18:14:00.003-04:002009-05-18T18:17:16.884-04:00

Soooo one of the reasons, besides my superfast and exciting life, that posts have been sparse as of late is that I've been working on this other site, you see, that I've finally compiled sufficient content to brag about. Check us out at the Anti-Marketer Blog. I'm sure you'll see some familiar themes...

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-21762880857358860762009-05-07T18:48:00.004-04:002009-05-07T19:00:04.271-04:00

This has the potential to be a tremendously boring post. But I was captivated by my lunch today...And felt compelled to share. These are meaty ravioli. The kind that comes frozen in the supermarket for 3/$5. My very vegetarian roommate occasionally buys them instead of the cheesy ones, by mistake. And because, while I don't typically buy or eat meat at home, I will put pretty much anything in

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-80328314017186804952009-04-24T18:27:00.003-04:002009-04-24T18:36:32.732-04:00

We are in the thick of graduation season here, hence the long absence. I assure you, blogicide is not about to occur.Conversation overheard today between two students getting out of the elevator, after the casting for end-of-year plays was posted:Drama Girl 1: *sniff. sniffle.* (wipes raccoon eyes)Drama Girl 2: Listen. You should absolutely be upset. Go talk to [the Academic Director]. It is

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-32293719473237021392009-03-25T00:33:00.004-04:002009-03-25T00:37:13.153-04:00

Thar's me head. It's pretty grand.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-17636606392742004042009-03-17T18:21:00.003-04:002009-03-17T19:00:21.971-04:00

Oh where have you been?? You may, possibly, or probably not been asking. Well I'll tell you. Damn. I was going to insert a jaw-droppingly awesome photo here of me in the inner gorge of the Grand Canyon, but my USB cord has gone missing and because I had to go and get a stupid Mac I can't insert the memory card directly in. So just use your imagination. I went to the Grand Canyon. For the

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-43597058890344497362009-03-02T13:54:00.002-05:002009-03-02T14:11:50.048-05:00

As I have been moved to comment before, my work gives me insight into the private worlds of many self-important and semi-delusional people. The following words are henceforth declared off limits for use as last names/surnames, unless you were unfortunate enough to be born with one of them:LoveFaithClaireTruthLeeLeighLeeighLeaJeremyChristmasHanukkahEasterValentineEdwardHenryStuartWindsorAny

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-41652684673605245292009-02-20T22:15:00.003-05:002009-02-20T22:18:49.002-05:00

One thing about inter-borough travel in NYC:[Excerpt from HopStop]TOTAL TRAVEL 5.88 milesTRAVEL TIME 1 hour 2 minsSigh. They just don't want you to go from Queens to Brooklyn & vice versa. It's like Manhattan gets peeved if you don't at least stop in. Grumble. *picks up metrocard*

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-49757127485200309262009-02-19T16:17:00.005-05:002009-02-21T19:52:01.900-05:00

It may have been the farm share. It may have been hanging out with my sister, the organic avenger. It may have been the lactardation. Regardless of the root, I am addicted to hippie food. In case you are wondering, that is a special home-made (at MY home! by me! I'm so crafty dammit!) bento-like lunch creation containing roast sweet potatoes with cashews and sesame oil, quinoa and steamed kale

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-7810762228783774612009-02-10T14:23:00.003-05:002009-02-10T14:53:53.204-05:00

[In the spirit of Janeane Garofalo, I'm going to start calling myself GRANDMA and continue to blog, blog, blog away.] Though I don't tweet, I have to admit that I love this shite:"Programmer Ryan Rose rigged up his washing machine to send him a tweet when his clothes are done. He just follows his machine's twitter account (it's PiMPY3WASH) and he knows when to go downstairs and move his undies to

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-69834605957509837862009-02-03T16:46:00.003-05:002009-02-03T16:56:49.989-05:00

Not only is this the latest on a long, long cavalcade of unabashedly aryan purity-obsessed sneaker ads that are the bane of my walking-to-the-office existence... but shit man! It's 19 degrees out here. I hate looking at this chick supplicating in her stupid, stupid sunshine!

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-11540721885495698792009-01-28T11:42:00.001-05:002009-01-28T11:45:43.423-05:00

Makes me wish I had some homework he could help me with.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-66819356591091419852009-01-22T16:56:00.004-05:002009-01-22T17:52:21.528-05:00

Since the news of the world and the buzz around my office has been aglow with love and goodwill (notice: took down the Bush countdown! na-na-na-na, hey-hey-hey...) and I'm in process of signing on to volunteer long-term with one of the best NYC charities EVER (which I'm not linking to cuz I don't know how they would feel about that. Suffice to say it has to do with thrift stores) and the world

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-9864267934674137512009-01-13T16:37:00.004-05:002009-01-16T01:41:48.543-05:00

Looking for an apartment when you have a dog is a lot like what I imagine it must be like to try to date when you have a child. You find the perfect, charming place, ideally located and in the right income bracket. Things are going great. Your rapport with the prospective landlord is light but respectful. They're checking out your credit and liking what they see. You're getting ready to seal

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-83319448843022076642009-01-12T17:01:00.003-05:002009-01-12T17:07:17.790-05:00

I like working near Madison Square Park, mainly for odd-hour access to Shake Shack, but also for the art installations. Joy, joy, joy. Treehouses!

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-91350985979952935082008-12-31T14:20:00.006-05:002008-12-31T18:00:14.285-05:00

There's something deliciously ironic about living in the New Year's party capital of the world and scrambling, year after year, for a way to get out of the city for these few days. I just can't stand it, though. New Year's Eve in New York is like the entire city is a mall and it's December 24th, and everyone is jostling for the same present and that present is the BEST NIGHT EVARR. It's a time

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-50105311792825063872008-12-19T11:30:00.002-05:002008-12-19T11:33:50.243-05:00

This is the view from my office right now. I'd like to point out that my first reaction to the "storm" as everyone is now calling it, was 'woah.' Then I remembered that when I was 11 I went trick-or-treating on a night exactly like this. Living here has made me such a wimp.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-19826872881851301452008-12-19T00:52:00.002-05:002008-12-19T01:01:52.727-05:00

I thought the golden age of PSAs had ended with the Mattel's reign of toy terror on our hearts and minds in the mid-80s. But then this pops up in the middle of the Digrassi marathon:It's cheesy, it's preachy. As a PSA should be. It's shown on the N. But I love her. So. Much. I want to that's-so-gay-marry her. Take that, Mormons.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-62018527013414417402008-12-11T16:32:00.003-05:002008-12-11T16:38:21.150-05:00

I don't usually like to take other people's journalisms just point out the obvious in them, but it's annual appeal season in the fundraising world so I'm a bit pressed for time. My boss forwarded this article about how people are firing their nannies (you know, on account of the economy)to me from the WSJ: "A stay-at-home mother whose husband is a litigation attorney, Mrs. Sirof says that Ms.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-53541155637184282622008-11-25T15:39:00.005-05:002008-11-26T12:44:38.807-05:00

This Friday, after the massive food and drink fest that is Thanksgiving with my mother’s 9 siblings and their families, I’m planning to participate in a strange meeting. My high school graduating class of 1999 has experienced Facebook rumblings of a 10 year reunion, and a few of our erstwhile student body leaders have arranged a planning meeting at the local Dunkin Donuts the day after T-day. I

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-72323413272714902332008-11-21T18:21:00.003-05:002008-11-21T18:33:59.423-05:00

I never do this, but check out Carla Bruni & Julien Dore covering the Moldy Peaches:Fast forward this to 2:50. I loved Kimya Dawson before, but now that she wrote a song so sweet and lovely that also has the first lady of France singing about her pants-pooping lover man, I think I have a new idol.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-78625322325921834732008-11-20T13:16:00.002-05:002008-11-20T13:34:01.764-05:00

In the spirit of some of my favorite people, I would like to rant briefly about something I wish would hurry up and die. I’m probably going to get kicked out of the fund-raiser’s union (HA) for admitting this, but I loathe thank-you letters. Of the many things I disagree with Miss Manners about, this is the most visceral. Since its invention, the personal acknowledgement letter has served one

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-25322598111601819652008-11-19T08:21:00.000-05:002008-11-19T11:08:13.129-05:00

What a tremendous Autumn! A historic election, clothing swaps, a whiz-bang Halloween, a few insane deadlines in the office of Stella. These have all been pleasant distractions to the creeping dread that always threatens to consume my autumnal joy: the threat of holiday travel. It’s an annual dilemma. My family lives far enough away to require significant transportation to go visit, while close

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-69672937902109549742008-11-13T12:38:00.003-05:002008-11-13T12:53:47.744-05:00

Having finally found a job that I still want to do after a year, I have elected to take that tremendous step toward real adulthood and at long last enroll in a 401K. To my parents and my more stable friends, I understand that it is laughable that I am just thinking about doing this as I approach my 30s. But as it turns out, it made perfect sense for me to have put it off until now. As my

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-42074908209338530372008-11-06T08:32:00.004-05:002008-11-06T08:57:42.537-05:00

How exciting is this? My goodness. Though I will miss a few things about the interminable election, like these guys, I am looking forward to our new optimistic turn in history. And being able to focus once again on the important things in life.This is the first time I've voted in an election that wasn't stolen away weaselly villains. Perks ya right up.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-29160985965493556842008-11-03T09:01:00.003-05:002008-11-03T09:06:04.725-05:00

An email I received today that I thought was important to pass along to everyone:From: MomTo: Stella, Bro1, Bro2, SisSubj: votingThis is the most important thing you can do. VOTE VOTE VOTE VOTE !!!!! XXX MOM GO OBAMA !!!!The lady knows her stuff. She lived through 2 Nixon terms, 1 brother sent to Vietnam, 1 brother sent to Pakistan

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-65424567040925347892008-10-27T20:14:00.005-04:002008-10-28T01:13:07.869-04:00

I don't usually use this space to do movie reviews, but I've had so many conversations about this arguably terrible movie over the past 3 days that I figured, ooooooooh fhwy not? What else do I have to prattle about this week, anyway?I went to see Oliver Stone's W. on Friday. So did my parents 400 miles away in Buffalo. We don't usually have the same taste in movies, but this one left all three

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-81474665253835964762008-10-24T18:22:00.004-04:002008-10-28T17:12:31.348-04:00

After sweating our root chakras off in a series of strenuous down-dogs, the two young women and I had shuffled into the yoga studio’s entryway and commenced the awkward re-application of shoes, coats and baggage in our post-meditative state. Exercise has the tendency to make me more sociable – I don’t know if this is because I feel more relaxed and hence lose my paralyzing fear of other people or

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-16476298716861651152008-10-21T12:37:00.004-04:002008-10-21T17:16:03.652-04:00

Let's take a moment of silence, shall we, to honor the classiest of girly fake beers for high schoolers, which has, despite hanging in there somewhat innocuously for the past few decades, finally gone the way of Crystal Pepsi. It's true, Miller Coors has finally halted production of Zima. According to the Daily News, "the decision was due to weakness in the “malternative” segment and declining

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-51607028335486941092008-10-17T00:18:00.002-04:002008-10-17T00:22:07.427-04:00

Yeah can't be funny about this. A horse stepped on his face.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-42612248514291179082008-10-16T14:58:00.005-04:002008-10-16T23:55:47.459-04:00

While I work on my long essay about opera and classical music fundraising in these troubled times, I thought I would try to check in at least once a week with a spot of fun or informative posting. Randomly. Here's some purple soup I made:It's delicious and will get you through cold season. Here is what's in it:4 tablespoons olive oil 1 chopped onion 4 cloves minced garlic2 quarts water 2 quarts

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-86691602994062802702008-10-09T11:21:00.002-04:002008-10-09T17:03:16.624-04:00

Here are some fun things I found on the Internet today, or were forwarded me via the Internet today. On account of it's Thursday. National Debt Clock Runs Out of DigitsThe Environmental Defense Fund: The Lost 8 Years Granted, this has an awful lot of text in it that I may very well never get around to reading (Hello preacher? This is choir calling. I'm fine with the Cliffs Notes, thanks!). But I

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-61950778267000827082008-10-06T07:25:00.002-04:002008-10-06T07:59:56.413-04:00

Though I come from a Midwestern/Midatlantic border town, I must say I love the East coast. I love the pace, love the straightforward approach to information in conversation, love the rampant independence and fearless cosmopolitanism. Love it. But there is one upshot of all this go-go-go attitude that I really can't stomach - the Me-First-igan. I'm sure this person exists everywhere in

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-49092879672067639532008-09-22T18:11:00.002-04:002008-09-22T18:29:42.486-04:00

That's all I can work up to right now. Between various political crap and worrying that the economy is going to worsen to the point that no one will continue to pay to go to acting school, thus putting me out of a job and sending Miyagi and I packing back to Buffalo to live in my parents' basement and make a living writing obits for the Hamburg Sun, along with the end of summer and the descendant

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-71563696489445799112008-09-11T11:42:00.002-04:002008-09-11T13:05:24.239-04:00

Just to clarify, this is not the start of a new section dedicated to weekly rants. It just happens to BE a Thursday, and I just happen to have a rant or two stored up. Shall we?Dear cab driver who sarcastically apologized for almost running over my dog and me this morning:I accept your remarks, sir, luckily for you, as sincere. You should be sorry. And not SORRrry, as you made it sound. I am

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-19770700189844725742008-09-09T08:49:00.004-04:002008-09-09T09:04:49.868-04:00

Fresh from the NYC Unrated & Unfiltered: The Prevention Through Affordable Access Act. Sponsored by New York's own Joe Crowley and, lookit that: Barrack O-hell yea-bama. Fascinating, Obama thinks that poor women and college students should be able to afford birth control and other prescriptions. Oh what? This won't cost taxpayers anything? Just make overpriced drug companies reinstate

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-65742352182526539342008-08-27T22:19:00.005-04:002008-08-27T22:48:25.263-04:00

I have to admit: I haven't been watching on TV. Sorry ABC. No, I've been picking and choosing which parts I want to listen to. One I had to make time for was this big lug:I can't help it. My background is so firmly Dem-establishment that, although my own political beliefs are fairly nebulous, I can't help viewing all of them as members of my family. I love this guy. Not in a romantic way,

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-29306626253444139702008-08-27T01:40:00.004-04:002008-08-27T02:00:55.402-04:00

I developed a deep seated love for many things during that semester in London; including Cornwall hostels, public transportation,* drum & bass shows, Stongbow cider, Welsh rugby players, Caryl Churhill plays and an ravenous appetite for Cadbury Whole Nut chocolate bars. The Whole Nut, not to be confused with the more crowded Fruit and Nut, is a magnificent combination of sugary smooth milk

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-57892528435179094452008-08-21T00:14:00.005-04:002008-08-21T09:29:06.528-04:00

Dear Lil Brudder, Wait... are you gone already? Oh crap, that means you had your birthday and Dad had that hip replacement already. I gotta call them…Anyway, this isn’t about Mom & Dad. This is about you and the marvellous jump you’ve just taken without perhaps even realizing the full extent of it. You’re out. Birthed into the strange time between the safety and stifling of the childhood home

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-90276888985225801322008-08-12T20:24:00.003-04:002008-08-13T00:36:48.883-04:00

Pairs of nymphet divers entering the water with totalitarian synchronization. Small musclebound men, balanced on their forearms whipping dizzying circles around a headless horse. Sleek, hairless mer-people caught on underwater cams with massive streams of bubbles flowing from their mouths, sliding through blue space like Kubrick-ian dream figures. Four years felt like a really, really long time

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-38018657964570518162008-08-01T14:03:00.005-04:002008-08-01T14:51:50.338-04:00

It's a sad, sad day my friends. Today I am sending back my practically new refurb lappy that was the source of so much joy in my life for the past few months. I would like to thank Lenovo for the good times, Square Trade for the affordable and effective warranty, and send a big old F-U to the refurbishers in Kentucky for doing such a crap, crap job at installing the hard drive and squelching my

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-59237600117670242222008-07-30T18:27:00.001-04:002008-08-01T14:55:07.874-04:00

First off - Let me disclaim by saying that I am aware it is 2 months too late to be writing about this. I had to ponder it for a while, carefully weigh my ambivalence and catch the latest issue of Wired with Julia Allison on the cover.I'm not going to pontificate or slander Emily Gould (for being the poster child of Millennial twits everywhere) or the NY Times Magazine (for devoting a 10 page

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-74673240300696606762008-07-18T13:17:00.001-04:002008-07-18T13:19:50.601-04:00

Ugh, this is a boring work-issue blog. I hate it when other people do these. Particularly when I'm too busy/lazy to do much in the way of links and images right now. I am actually just posting this to elicit tips from anyone who might have more clerical skill than I do. Due to my boss chairing some committees and coworkers’ ill-timed vacations, I was left this month undertaking a task that was

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-89063279237254727422008-07-11T11:07:00.005-04:002008-07-15T18:45:47.271-04:00

Your clothes look hot, your hair is chic and modern. You can make the best witty literary and cinematic banter of anyone in the room. It is time to find something to do. I am a sucker for free movies. Also I am a sucker for outside nighttime events. So most of these are movie nights. This list is by no means comprehensive representation of free events in the NY area for the summer, just a few

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-69208077956605512972008-07-08T13:46:00.005-04:002008-07-15T16:45:55.984-04:00

On a clear night, the view from my bedroom window leers at me, trying to justify the rent I pay to live in the back of the building with the meddling Helenics just below. Across the garage roofs, thought the tall rigs that attach the wash lines to the backs of buildings, over the tops of the Astoria street trees, just past the three blinking smokestacks of the insidious LIC power plant (as

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-44800018340565330822008-07-02T16:56:00.004-04:002008-07-02T17:12:46.300-04:00

Yay! My favorite totally regressive billboard has been taken down and replaced with this:So yeah, it's not as bad as the assault-ready vanilla waif passed out on tennis court version, but I have to admit I still don't quite wrap my head around KSwiss's marketing. Keep what pure? Tennis? White sneaks? Pristine mountain tennis arenas? White people?Don't know why this somehow reminds me of "It's

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-41497022922493056392008-06-17T16:34:00.007-04:002009-02-03T16:52:38.569-05:00

Alternate captions considered included: Keeping it purer than a vanilla ice cream punany. ORKSwiss: The official sneaker of the master race. Come ON! Are we REALLY still dealing with this nonsense?

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-56677420723409530172008-06-13T17:04:00.003-04:002008-06-14T21:32:34.774-04:00

“Money does motivate people,” he said. “You find merit-pay systems in business, with sales, or with traders on Wall Street. Why rob the direct-service field of the thing that motivates people in almost every field of human endeavor?” Social-service workers in the United States are paid an average of $44,900, according to the National Association of Social Workers. Salaries depend on the size of a

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-77658717381057356122008-06-13T10:59:00.002-04:002008-06-14T21:35:05.556-04:00

NY Times: Gay Unions Shed Light on Gender in MarriageCan I just take a moment to say I FREAKING knew it!And my Mom wonders why I think marriage is icky. It's cuz 40 years post-revolution, we're still getting this shit end of the stick. Ain't my job to manage your life, fool.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-36668238931359576142008-06-03T23:06:00.011-04:002008-06-06T01:32:41.090-04:00

It’s difficult t to feel stylistically adequate in this town. As a newcomer I quickly learned that the girls of New York wore their pants tighter* and their voices louder than I did, and it was no longer OK to just try to blend in. Blending was suddenly boring and didn’t get you laid. Fabulousness is all around us. On TV, on the street. It’s happened not once, but twice, that a homeless

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-39388731722650287732008-06-03T18:01:00.005-04:002008-06-03T18:10:09.948-04:00

Was I on a Date, or Babysitting? Stella will be replaced today by her alter-ego and guest columnist, Ranty McRanterpants. Be forewarned. I’m annoyed by this piece. I’m annoyed that it’s in the Times. I’m annoyed that someone, somewhere, is taking this as representative of the struggle of late-20-something urbanite lasses everywhere. The author states she does not have a thing for musicians. This

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-11105426030303303822008-05-24T01:25:00.002-04:002008-05-24T01:34:18.864-04:00

It's 1 a.m. on a Friday night in Northwest Queens. A man with a shaved head and a moustache-goatee combo in big jeans and a navy blue hoodie stands smoking a cigarette outside of the wrought iron gate to a 2 family house whose owner has obviously decided to go with the Olde Worlde Statuary look. As the girl in the orange sweatshirt approaches with her chihuahua, she glances at him but does not

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-20333880860532399582008-05-21T16:33:00.004-04:002008-05-21T17:22:54.754-04:00

Oh sweet relief. After carrying a photo of Mariacarla Boscono around with me (including 2 apartment moves)for like 2 years, I finally got up the gumption to do it. My hair. Is short. This rocks for several reasons. 1. Haircuts rule2. It was freeeeeeee3. RevengeIn the scope of human events going on right now, this is small, I'll admit. But personally it's something I've been building up to. And

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-52283232676457583512008-05-16T11:31:00.004-04:002008-05-16T13:55:43.745-04:00

Good news from the Golden State, kids. California Supreme Court Overturns Gay Marriage Ban. I usually can't stand it when people try to compare other decades to the 60's, as it's another Boomer-centric view of history that proclaims: "yes, but this isn't as important as what MY generation did." But there are some unavoidable parallels going on. Unjust war, conservative political machine fast

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-81864171534414157312008-05-13T17:48:00.004-04:002008-05-16T13:55:19.227-04:00

I had a recent resurgence of the old adolescent inferiority complex when I told Treasure, the 8th grader that hangs out at the library, that I didn’t know anything from Fergie’s new album. My knowledge of the Duchess actually stops at “My Humps”. Treasure was flabbergasted: “Don’t you have a radio?”“Yeah.” Pssh. Course I have a radio. (Well now I do.)“What are you listening to then? You need to

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-5195816762916041182008-05-12T18:00:00.005-04:002008-06-08T01:14:39.320-04:00

I've gone on (and on) in the past about my many issues with summertime clothing. As Memorial Day (according to the NY Times, the official start of beach season - yech!) quickly approaches, I'm trying my darnedest to apply my new, sassy sense of body-confidence to my wardrobe before the swelter begins. Many people know this, but I'll reiterate. I can do that, because I run a self-published web

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-40107896859386072632008-05-06T01:11:00.003-04:002008-05-06T01:14:28.697-04:00

Here's a moment of Zen for my late grandmother, who, even in the early 90s thought that Wilford Brimley was annoying, not because he liked oatmeal so much, but because of his pronunciation of dia-beetus. I hope you will enjoy this snippet as much as I did.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-30556658493369144462008-04-29T01:29:00.003-04:002008-04-29T02:10:35.813-04:00

I woke up with a brain cloud this morning. My throat was scratchy and I had the vague feeling of a mid-sized wallaby sitting on my face. Opening my eyes I sadly discovered no wallaby, but only the dingy light of a rainy day in Queens rifling through my blinds as conceded to the congestion plaguing my nasal cavity-to-temple range. My body and the universe had conspired to bless me with a spring

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-50125450432207432612008-04-22T17:51:00.005-04:002008-04-29T02:09:43.482-04:00

Ever since seeing this event publicized in the NY Times the other day, I've been taking a keen interest in my generational identity, and that of those around me. Could this be the magic key that unlocks the secrets of why I seem so weird to my 30-something coworkers? Or why all my favorite bosses have been in their 60's? On a quick side-note, one consistent thing in every piece of

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-31782016370276718812008-04-18T14:34:00.004-04:002009-02-19T16:21:04.387-05:00

Summertime means a lot of things to a lot of people. Romance, ice cream, freedom, girls that wear Abercrombie and Fitch, the back of your neck getting dirty & gritty. Waiting for a hamburger in a line longer than Space Mountain ever saw. Personally I think that the warmer seasons kick ass because of the imminent availabilty of delicious produce. My mom's house has peach trees growing in the

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-40617946420217829402008-04-16T16:11:00.004-04:002008-04-18T17:35:46.560-04:00

I have the feeling I'm not alone in this. Often when I leave the house in the morning and I'm out on the street, I have a secret habit of evaluating how my clothes are making me feel, and how this effects my composure. Ever since middle school I've known that if I think I look mousey, I will feel and act mousey. It's very Learning-Channel chic. This mental once-over typically progresses to a What

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-10863301159058976612008-04-10T16:13:00.006-04:002008-04-10T16:48:37.738-04:00

It's here! The laptop arrived today while I was at work. I'd like to thank the viruses that infected Robin this week (sorry, Robin) for keeping her home to greet the UPS man. It's waiting for me at home. Oh, Thinkpad, my little pink heart quivers with anticipatory wifi love. This is a big deal for a few reasons. The most weighty being that this is the first major piece of machinery that I've

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-32820534123622528142008-04-08T00:27:00.005-04:002008-04-08T18:28:26.463-04:00

What a lovely weekend we had, the ladies and I, traipsing around the first state. It was kind of like when Suti and I hop in the Mazda and head out to the suburbs to do things we never do, like eat KFC and sit in sub-Arctic multiplexes watching mind-numbingly crap movies. Like fresh-air fund for grownups, 'cept instead of fresh air, you get trans fats.Traipsing, in this instance, means a

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-76216932904848376032008-04-03T15:57:00.000-04:002008-04-03T18:04:05.790-04:00

Oooh yes. I just quoted the Goo Goo Dolls. I'm officially freaking out. A few months ago, my creaky old Dell Inspiron started acting all funny. It refused to recognize its power source, defiantly running down its battery, unless it was turned off. This limited usage to 2-hour intervals, as this 15-inch, 15 pound hulk of a supposedly-portable machine did not come with a battery made for travel.

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-40590959217612794812008-03-26T17:47:00.001-04:002008-04-10T17:09:13.435-04:00

Despite what they may have been designed for, bars and churches are both best visited when empty. That's my quote. You can't steal it. I made it up. Copyright 2008 Stella.Did something funny this past Sunday. A dark wave of depression was rising on the horizon all week, so I decided what was really needed was an adventure, either literally or spiritually, some event that would result in a

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-91455915664098260302008-03-20T13:03:00.001-04:002008-03-20T17:02:30.012-04:00

Dyngus Day Buffalo 2008The saddest thing is I never even really got to participate while I was living there, since after the first year of college I used any excuse within reach to not come home during school breaks. I used to watch the TV coverage as a kid, though, and all that Polka and flirting looked like so much f-ing fun. It makes me wistful. I'm not even Polish but I feel it is indelibly a

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-81034064267611372762008-03-19T17:55:00.000-04:002008-03-20T17:03:10.133-04:00

It’s been almost 4 full years and I’m still trying to work it out. Still trying to pinpoint exactly how I feel about the Corporation for National Public Service, the parent company of the AmeriCorps programs. This comes up whenever I enter the inevitable conversation with Aunts and Uncles about what their post-collegiate kids are looking to do. Usually it goes something like this:Ian was thinking

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-47434882929296630802008-03-14T17:24:00.000-04:002008-03-20T17:04:08.841-04:00

"We want politicos to prove us wrong, they aren't human" HoldenCaulfieldetc.blogspot.comPerhaps I'm all postmodern and jaded, but this sounds like our problem, not theirs. The public's continuing obsession with their political leaders serving as moral/spiritual leaders rankles me even more this particular year. I remember saying it when Bill Clinton, the Budgeteer, got caught diddling an intern

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-59087515658454365702008-03-13T16:36:00.000-04:002008-03-20T17:04:52.488-04:00

I don't know if I can count the times when my unwillingness to make a scene has caused me some significant amount of discomfort. Thankfully, these instances of nebbish-itude have grown more sparse as I've gotten bolder in my old age. The biggest hotbed of such behavior was beyond a doubt my first year of college. Fresh off the minivan with no big brothers or sisters to speak for me, I suddenly

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-12222614516202610492008-03-12T17:20:00.000-04:002008-03-20T17:06:06.340-04:00

Gaah! This is a crazy week. Not in that I have a tremendous workload, or that my personal life is on the fritz. Both are surprisingly sane at this time. This week is crazy because I am in it. Feeling malevolently uncool and teeny-tiny. The only way to unburden myself of this nasty feeling is to flaunt my uncoolness and nebbish-y nature to justify my existence. I've learned to embrace my nerdular

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-9398528146689271082008-03-12T11:24:00.000-04:002008-03-20T17:06:44.732-04:00

Oi. I can't handle anxiety. It distracts me from everything I do and renders me suddenly incapable of intelligible speech. My boss gives me the squint-eyed are you hung over? look. No, not hung over. Merely made stupid by my own stupid brain. Next improv show this Friday. The following one Tuesday next. My stomach churns thinking about it. I am now alternating back and forth between

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-32434166843811214492008-03-06T17:12:00.000-05:002008-03-20T17:08:04.389-04:00

My landlord in lovely Astoria, let's just call her Mrs. Papagotisakisamadousos, is a sweet-faced Ya-Ya (that's Grandma, to you non-Grecophiles) with an inner cauldron of bile that would make even the fiercest Ottoman blush.Mrs. P has got to be the mascot of Astoria. Oh, people argue for the lion or the Walken (OK, so that's just my own ongoing obsession), but no, the secretly-evil landlord/lady

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2265797169510839708.post-50955564160083123782008-03-03T16:45:00.000-05:002008-03-20T17:08:42.991-04:00

I'm in a state of mixed elation after my first level 3 improv class performance yesterday. Also a bit sad, though, as I see this experience waning to a close and know I will be taking a break from weekly fun classes for a while when it ends. Being onstage is still novel to me, and I was still pissing myself with anxiety in the hours leading up to the show. When it started, the nervousness

Hope E. Ewingnoreply@blogger.com1