June 22, 2011

Packing dreams

A few months ago I had this terrible nightmare that I was about to come home from a work trip and had to pack my entire hotel room, but I had too much stuff and not enough time before my car came to take me to the airport. So, in my dream, I was really panicked and was running around the hotel room trying to stuff dozens of handbags and shoes into suitcases and duffel bags. I woke up from this dream completely stressed out, fists clenched, the whole bit.

Last night I had another packing dream, but instead of my clothes and shoes, I had left my assistant to pack up a roomful of clothing samples from different brands and PR agencies. In my dream, I'd gone off for the day to work on another project, a photoshoot, I think, and when I came back to the room there were only a few minutes left to get everything sent off and my assistant was just dawdling around, doing nothing. Of course, I went into a tailspin again, had to pack everything myself, while my assistant stood there, uselessly. In my dream, I fired her.

What does this all mean?

Oh, and two nights ago I dreamt that I found a famous rapper's black Amex.

This, too.

Well, this is what happened to Racked today

The FBI got us.

June 18, 2011

June 14, 2011

June 13, 2011

Conan's Dartmouth commencement address

"I've been living in Los Angeles for two years, and I've never been this cold in my life. I will pay anyone here $300 for GORE-TEX gloves. Anybody. I'm serious. I have the cash.

Before I begin, I must point out that behind me sits a highly admired President of the United States and decorated war hero while I, a cable television talk show host, has been chosen to stand here and impart wisdom. I pray I never witness a more damning example of what is wrong with America today.


June 12, 2011


So they've split up that Oxford property I love into two separate listings.

June 10, 2011

Red skies at night, sailors' delight

I was standing in the Miami Beach surf at sunset (I bailed on the party a little early). I do that a lot when I travel. I remember standing in the surf in Dubai just staring out into the horizon for, like, ever. The same in Barcelona, the same in Montauk, the same in any seaside town I go to. I love the beach and I do some of my best thinking (read: I have the most master-of-the-obvious revelations ever) when I'm in/around water.

So tonight I realized that all this desperately wanting to escape New York thing that I've been feeling for, oh, the last seven years isn't going to happen until I produce some good work. Because work is the most important thing in my life, at least right now, and even though in my fantasies, I could go live in a country house somewhere and write the best screenplay ever or the craft the beginnings of the most profound YA series in modern history, the fact is that I do my best work in New York. So I have to stay until whatever it is I'm meant to do/create comes out of me. Otherwise it never will. And, after I've birthed my, uh, masterpiece (read: and sell it), then I'll go.

But I'll always keep an apartment in the city. Just in case.

June 07, 2011



We needed space so badly. When we discovered that, if we went with boys, space would open for us, we found to our surprise that we needed boys. And yet boys were part of the danger. Thus the balance of power between us and the boys was thrown out of kilter. This inequity about moving fast into the world was the first real lesson I had about the inequities between men and women. We needed boys more than they needed us. We were more scared if them physically than they were of us. We did not know this, but we probably even desired them more than they desired us. If we chose not to go with them, we couldn't go at all. But they were always free to choose to go without us. - Naomi Wolf Promiscuities

One of the reasons that New York is so hard to live in, for me, is because there's an undercurrent of male aggression that runs through the streets and the air. Everywhere. I think about this a lot, especially when the weather starts to get warm and women can no longer reasonably hide behind layers of sweaters and coats. I've been followed down the street by men shouting obscene and humiliating things at me. I've been followed home. I've been followed into and around shops. It's terrifying and stressful and upsetting and embarrassing. Every morning, before I walk out the door, I have to brace myself against the people outside my front door. I have never encountered men like the men who trawl the streets in New York. Even after a year spent living in and traveling around the Middle East, I can say with certainty that I have never been anywhere where the sexual harassment is worse than it is right here in the United States. Mostly New York. I'm sure that's a huge contributing factor to the reason I feel a million times freer as soon as I set foot in an airport for a departing flight. Well, one of the major reasons, at least.

The other day I realized that most of my closer friends in New York are men. I never thought much about why, but I do know that when I hang out with my guy friends -- if I walk down the street with a guy friend or go to a store or eat in a restaurant -- no one bothers me/us. Waiting on the street or by a shop somewhere for my guy friend to show up, men walk by and say things and stare and invade my personal space. I have to worry about avoiding eye contact, not paying attention, not doing anything to respond or make any move that could be perceived as provocation. But as soon as my guy friend shows up everything is okay, I can be myself, I feel free. I don't have to worry that some perv is going to bother me on the street, because, by and large, guys don't bother or harass girls who are with other guys.

I hate having to rely on the company of men in order to walk down the street in New York without worrying someone's going to try something. I want to walk where I want and wear what I want without aggressive men bothering me and terrorizing me.

Of course, I've thought about possible solutions. I could get a boyfriend -- this is, of course, the least feasible of all my options -- hire a car and driver or hire a bodyguard.

Or I could just move.