'Italy' Journal - (or, honeymoon wrap-up)

ALAS.. the below is a probably-altogether-too-detailed log of all that we did on our honeymoon. It is perhaps more for me and Esra to aid in memory and laughs years down the road than for anyone else (good protection against you finding any of it boring, eh? : )
Also .. Thou (you) shall not pass judgement (unless it's heaping praise or cash prizes) upon what I write, how Esra and I live, eat, drink or the things we (ok, me) admire or poke fun at. I am 'me', with my own outlook, possibly probably different from yours, describing on behalf of Kory (and yes, Esra to a degree, unless/until she writes her own honeymoon-wrap-up), the things I experienced and how I absolutely-love-my-wife for allowing me to continue the enjoyment of experiencing. I offer sincere condolences to husbands out there with wives who are not understanding that men are still boys and boys will be boys.
Also importantly, it is not for you to care who else is reading this. I, or Esra deemed you worthy, mature & respectful enough of us to share kory's semi-sorta-twisted view on our honeymoon.


9-6-08
- WEDDING! day. Rain! (a separate journal entry talking about the wedding to follow)
- something we would learn later from an italian local:
" sposa bagnata - .. . . "a wet bride
, sposa fortunata" .. . is a lucky bride"

9-7-08
- AM: wake, quick dress, quick drive to hotel in Fishkill for family & friends goodbyes
- back to Catrock to pack up a wedding worth of stuff with family & friends-of help
- back to NYC, unload now-Fully-packed zipcar & return it
- chill watching NFL kickoff game (thank you Oh Lords of Football, please don't leave me again) while Esra emailed our Capri hotel (spending 4 hours gathering train schedule details etc so they can meet us at Naples train station .. to no avail. they later claimed they didn't get it (although they DID get it because they had the pictures of us she included, so they could identify us at the train station))
- pack till 1:30 am

9-8-08
- surf around (calmly) on computer while Esra does last minute packing scramble (not as calmly)
- 5 minutes AFTER we'd agreed to leave the house, I witness Esra .. getting in the shower to shave her legs!! I am flabbergasted and stop her, playing the Angry Cop Role with "Ma'am, step away from everything NOT-leaving-the-house-right-this-minute-related"
- car service to JFK, minor rush through check in to gate.
- JFK runway changes place us 15th for take off (45 minutes inching across JFK property)
- 7 freaking hour flight. Ugh. Kung Fu Panda though proves to be quite awesome.
- Steward on flight gives us free wine, then champagne as Esra befriended him in line at JFK pizza place (me loving her more and more for the beautiful irony of airport pizza before flying to the land of pizza).
- however... wine + champagne + airplane seats = kory no sleep. sense arrival of grumpy-Kory to come.

9-9-08
- Roma! get airport food (surprisingly good), coffee (surprisingly small), and being the Raider-dork we all know me to be, insist that I check Raider score of the game played while we were in the air, at an airport internet terminal (surprisingly humiliating.. a 41-14 loss, ugh)
- a walk over to airport's train station finds the automated ticket system bottlenecked down to 2 machines (out of 7 or so), & tired-newlywed tempers flare getting tix to Rome train station.
- at train station, get coffee, WC, a pressed sandwich I thought was being pressed only to find the guy had forgotten about me & had to end up giving me it unpressed so we could catch our train to Naples.
- aboard train, join 3 nearly-non-stop-talking Italian 20-30 somethings who chat & chat until ticket agent comes through, finding one of them with an invalid ticket. in addition to getting kicked off at an unscheduled stop, he gets a €400 fine!
- other two guys KEEP talking to us.. tho they speak 25 words of English each & we rely mostly on Esra's Spanish & hope for the best. Best happens as we all awkwardly manage to communicate for the whole ride.
- Get to Naples Central station. No meet-&-greet present as arranged. Mild tempers, phone calls to Orsa Maggiore (our Capri hotel). I soothe my panicky bride with "we're Dayani's! we kick adversity like this in the ass!". Get cab to Naples ferry port for ferry to Capri.
- get 2 risotto balls, calzone, beverages and one ferry to Capri please!
- met at dock by hotel's driver (ahem, WITH our picture), driven up Capri's OhMyLord-barely-8-foot-wide roads, thru the town of Anacapri to Orsa Maggiore. Sweet Italian Jesus, it is awesome.
- N-a-a-a-a-a-a-p ... a nap of ages.
- sit out at pool for sunset-iness, make S-l-o-w pool entry (yes, I know.. quick pool entry is better, I did slow entry to spite everyone who's ever said Just-Get-In! to someone), a lil' swimmin', pool-hugging, rejoicing in honeymoon-ness.
- get prosciutto & melon at pool, olives with white wine. marvel at being .. in Italy.
- *, shower, begin writing these mini-day-summaries.
- wine on our room's terrace with sea & moon view
- ravioli caprese & veal scalopini (with, of course, Capri lemons.. auuuuggg) ... because we didnt have a menu & Esra was asking them what we should order over the phone, Esra tells me "I ordered you something scalloped. Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be good". It was veal and it was amazing.

9-10-08
- breakfast (god bless ye merry Europeans for loving Nutella so), leave Orsa for the day, finally
- tempers flare over who'll, of all things, carry our not-at-all-heavy guidebook and who'll go back for digital camera battery we forgot in the room. neither of us do, tempers settle.
- walk up to Piazza Vittoria in Anacapri town center, get disposable camera & a calzoney-thing.
- tour Alex Munthe's Villa de San Michelle. amazing.
- chaaaaair liiiift! sooo freakin' beautiful & totally safe-style-scary. deposits us atop Monte Solaro for pics, espresso, chips & lemonade. experience first bit of locals-who-hate-tourists attitude, shrug it off.
- begin 2 hour walk/hike down, head right at fork in road to Santa Maria a Cetrella & continue along path, we thought, to Anacapri, Instead, we reach a mountain edge with an 800' vertical drop off, decide to not continue that direction. Take pics & backtrack to fork in road, passing all the "stations of the cross" statue-reliefs placed along the trail. Dusty as hell, beautiful everything-everywhere, carefully navigating winding switchbacks, taking pictures and then I hear: Wyyyyeaaahhh!! - a garter-type snake quick slithers up a rockface near Esra. We eat a berry off a branch, I play Boy Scout, looking all-knowledgeable about everything-in-the-universe as I've recognized an anise plant for her. (thank you San Diego shrublands, overgrown with anise)
- near the bottom, pass homes & gardens growing fig & lemon trees, grapes, etc, etc, etc, etc (did I mention "etc"?)
- check out a local-family graveyard
- back to & through Anacapri
- next to Chiesa San Michelle is church building only containing drawings of all different Capri churches. Then to the Chiesa.
- take pics of an italian wedding in progress in Anacapri's main piazza. quick beer & 'tost', small-supermarket stop.
- back towards Orsa Maggiore, watch sunset along way, stop at a mini-mart for peaches, nectarines. (best. peaches. Ever. no exageration...also necartine and lemon the size of a football.)
- Say hi to 2 lambs living in someone's front yard.
- At Orsa, check out rooftop garden, pick, eat a fig.
- shower, nap, Esa reads & ate her alloted Fonzies, drank Peroni whilst getting ready
- took cab (an open air cab with a retractable fabric cover, they're all over the island) to Capri-town, walked & saw shopping areas of Capri-town.
- dinner at Restaraunte Da Giorgio, window-seated (our "luna de miel"!), white wine, caprese salad, figs/ham. White clam spaghetti for Esra, shrimp scampi for K, assorted fish, red wine, pizza bread as bread.
- more walking, kissing, honeymooning, looking over Bay of Naples
- walk to Quisisana where Esra's friend stayed on their honeymon, have a limoncello & water, play the people game ("that couple is from ____ and they do____")
- make out with statues (see pics), get taxi back to Orsa.

9-11-08
- 'quick! breakfast time almost over'. breakfast.
- check internet for boat rental details and ok, fine, I also checked football news.
- lounge at pool, write this, swim, eat lunch at pool.
- get ride from Fabio (no, not that Fabio) down to Blue Grotto, rowboat in, wow. Esra swam
- walked hillside path to 'Da Giovanni' for prosecco & Campari, pics of cliff jumping kids
- find MUCH much lower rocks (20-10 feet) to jump off of. I jumped & dove & dove & dove & jumped & dove off sweeeet sweet rocks.
- bus back to Orsa, shower, *, sunset, nap
- get ride to Ristorante Materita in Ana Capri for tuna, anchioves salad, 1/2 a pizza, tagliatele con lemon gambori, pasta with zunchini flowers, wine, limoncello
- walk the 20 min beautiful winding road back to Orsa

9-12-08
- 9:30 wake up call, breakfast
- finish packing, pay bill, ride to No!-wait, Esra buys glass thing in Ana Capri while I wait with taxi at gas station (€100 to fill up his tank!). ride to Capri town, check bags in a .99cent-type-store that, it seems, checks bags for tourists. on to rent boat
- Boat & boat & boat around the island. You do not even KNOW (so i'll tell you) how much I love driving a boat. (a lot). it's a little ridiculous.
- swim at 'green grotto' (see our pics) more boat & boating. return boat, have icey lemon granite thing & mad dash to ferry for Positano!
- arrive in Positano, haul bags up & up & up stairs & ramps to a tourist info place that informs more stairs will be involved. take said more stairs to taxi. kick self for not using the island's porter service.
- check in at Pensione Maria Luisa, a family run hotel, truly awesome.
- shower, nap, go to terrace for a coin-op coffee (that ruled) and a smoke
- stroll (past the two recommended restaurants) down & down road, captivated by the awesomeness of Positano. side stairs to shortcut a switchback is crazy beautiful as well.
- unsuccessful shopping attempt (shorts for me, sarong for Esra)
- dinner at La Terrazo - bellisimo! see a wedding party there, in bathroom we run into "Iyem thu moothAH o theh BRIYEED, ACHHH!!" Ok, her accent was really only 1/10th as thickly scottish, but for the rest of the trip, she was basically Groundskeeper Willie to me, popping into conversations Esra and I would have where any kind of accent was being talked about. This cracked us up (and still does) to no end.
- stroll, more fruitless shopping (Es-only), more strolling, hazelnut gelato (auuugg), catch bus up the hill
- drinks at Montemare terrace bar, chat with cool waiter guy, back to Maria Luisa, sleep

9-13-08
- wake to thunder, lightning but no rain. then Rain. big rain. a torrent washes down steps (literally covering every step in about an inch of rushing water, people almost got swept away). Rain cleans Positano but good.
- automat coffee then breakfast supplies from hillside market, back to hotel, eat in community dinning area, watch clouds.
- "Positano bites deep. It is a dream place that isn't quite real when you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you are gone" - John Steinbeck
- Walk down the one way road into town, shopping for lemon spoon rest, among other things, continues (background: on possibly our first day in Capri, I saw a ceramic spoon rest with an all yellow background and three lemons painted on it. Being that the Amalfi coast is known for it's ceramics, whenever we'd be out shopping, I'd have us pop into ceramic stores to look for the elusive yellow-lemons-on-a-lemon-background spoon rest. It is also quite possible that I did not see but dreamed said spoon rest and/or that I was imagining some ideal amalgam of different spoon rests I'd seen). Esra buys sarong beach bathing suit coverup thingy.

Interjection: I'm writing this in a coffee shop on atlantic after going to the post office to insist our On Hold mail isnt un-On-Holded. (to which I was told "well you aint got no mail here so it MUST be off-hold. here, I'll give you a # to call to Off Hold it" - grr. never put your mail on hold) So I'm in this coffee shop I've never been to and about 5 street youths, for lack of knowing what to call urban street youth without coming off as un-pC, just came in & said "yo, can we play ouiji board if we buy something??". the guy behind the counter says "what?", they repeat, he says sure, they shuffle to the back.
Behind me now i hear "yo! ... YO! you know how to play this game?" ... a timid girl not knowing which way to answer says "i think you .. just ask it questions and ... then it .. sorta answers you". The guy says back "YO, i DID that, it dont work, look!" then immediately to someone else near them "yo, You played this game befo?". then a minute or so later to his friend "damn nig@a i TOLD you this sht don'work, keenan straight up playin you nig@a. be all movin' sht widdis fingers & sht"
Incidentally, I think the guys who work this place are trying to drive them out by playing JCMellancamp's "Hurt So Good" (it's almost working on me is why I thought of it)

- go in to town church, take pix of bloody knee Jesus and pix of the cross allegedly stolen by pirates during a storm, only to then hear ghostly voices of Posa! Posa! ("put it down, put it down") to which they did to which the storm subsided to which the pirates ran away like scared girls. I'm sure the italian version of the story is a bit more heroic. Positano is named thusly because of the Posa part of said word.
- watch italian wedding party prep for a wedding in said church. Esra shops for a beach/bathing suit cover thing which ends up being, I have to admit, pretty cool (see pics - then again, what DOESNT she look good in? am I right? exactly) then, to the beach! which praise Neptune, is a topless beach. Now, knowing me as you do, or soon will (more of, maybe than you wish to) .. I love the boobs. Always have. Some people are legs guys, I appreciate little more than a fully natural, non-plastic pair or human (female) boobs. And no, there's no other way to say it. Not 'breasts', that's a clinical term some people (mature people) think of as the 'correct' term to use. No, 'boobs'. 'Boobs' is (are) fun and playful and beautiful and before I continue, I should say that Esra condones said boob-love and thinks my love of boobs is cute, harmless and lovingly-borderline-obsessional ..in a GOOD way. which it is, all of those things. I do not, did not, Stare at said boobs on the beach, but neither can my biology avoid them and, I think, psychically, I knew where they were, exposed, at any given moment through my ever keen sense of boob-dar. It was then that I probably insisted that, being on a European beach, Esra should take the opportunity (and me vicariously? 'Dr Freud to the waiting room') to go topless. Did guys walk by and look at her boobs? yes. Was I proud as hell of it? hell yes. Why, you ask, since they weren't my boobs on display? I don't know, I just was. deep down, I know you understand.
- We power-tan & read (despite being from SD and having middle-eastern olive skin that tans way better than yours (sorry), I'm not much of a go-out-and-tan-person). Es un-topless-ifies herself to go & get a panini and a €3 sprite (which was not quite €3-delicious). Still, the paninis we had in italy were honest-to-goodness better than all but (i'm guess-timating) two that I've ever had.
- back on the beach, I'm torn between Esra's toplessness and some italian teens playing in-the-breaking-waves soccer. Somehow, I manage to peep both, enjoying Es's toplessness way more (at this point, with my favorite pair in sight, I'd forgotten about the other boobs still on the beach).
- more sunning, reading, toplessness-enjoying then ... what the .. rain?
- price out grilled squid at 5 different restaurants, end up at what would have been nearest choice to beginning of search.
- Having bought a Scopa deck, we ask a local to remind me what the Scopa rules are. He explains the expert version that old guys play before explaining the little kid version I knew. we play

- slight tension. K tired. silly argument.

- K walk's back up to hotel (20 mins) while Es writes postcards.

- Not having soap on hand, I shower using a h-e-uuuuge lemon we brought from Capri. Bad, bad (bad) idea. It sticks everywhere. Good news is I smelled lemony fresh.

- Nap, wake to an open Peroni being handed to me, listen to Lou Monte's italian classics on our mp3 player/speakers, dance.

- walk to Medditeraneo for wine, anchioves antipasto, filet mignon w/ spice cream, fish of day, strega! limoncello crema! and Pietro Rainone(.com) italian classics on guitar/voice.

- walk down to a guidebook-recomended dessert place (Zagara). Enter the italian twilight zone. Watch a love boat style lounge singer in super tight white package-display-pants (who, swear to god, looked just like Ricky Gervais, I'm still not sure it wasnt him) crooning out Wham!'s "Careless Whispers". Eat the recommended Positanese chocolate cake (which Es swears was good. Me? eh.) & a lemon cake thingy with a beer & limoncello. Watch a May-December weird hookup (attempt?) in progress.

- As we're leaving, I hit the bathroom, come back to comically interrupt greasy meatball dude trying to smoov-talk m'lady. He gives me the Machoman Handshake. We leave. I proceed to not miss single life.

- Busses have stopped so we stumble (not really stumble, though tipsyness was in effect) up hill.

- take pics, *, sleep.

9-14-08

- wake slow & nice, *, shower, breakfast upstairs.

- cannon, firework fires from an opposing hillside, echoing all through and back, across the U-shaped hillsides of Positano.

- walk down. Es buys white top, I buy her a mustard skirt (damn my love of all things mustard colored!). I try on orange linen pants, remember that I am not a gay European dance club owner, take pants off. Coffee at Bar Murino.

- run into Chris & Beth, one of my best men's wife's best friend and husband who also got married on Sept 6th & happened to be honeymooning in Positano!  yes, it's a small world after all ("e un piccolo mondo dopo tutti")

- internet checkage, pizza at Buca Di Bacco.

- walk along Via Positanese De America to Spiagio (beach) Fornillo.

- beer, vodka & soda for Es. aranciata (riceball - freakin' deliiiicious)

- Elevator(s) up to Pensione Maria Luisa, nap.

- walk up & up & up to Il Grottino Azzuro for wine, bruscetta, spagetti carbonara, swordfish, misto di pasta. Es buys a bottle of their house wine.

- walk back down & pix along way. to Mediteraneo for more Scopa, drinks.

9-15-08

- Slow & happy wake, coffees, chat w/ the proprietor Carlo.

- walk down to Bar Murino, exchange $ for €, check internet while Esra watches a wedding-in-progress. (Raiiiiders win 23-8, yeayy! ..football score, not wedding score)

- grab coffee, water, sit on beach, write this + postcards

- toilets, internet to print addresses, toilets again? limoncello. walk back up

- Pack, pay, chat with Carlo, take bus down, get lemon granite while waiting for ferry to Amalfi.
- ferry to Amalfi

- turns out what I thought was our hotel in Amalfi is actually our hotel in Ravello, about 3 miles away. This irks me as info on website was a bit misleading. Oh well.

- get a cab to the hotel (Villa Scarapariello Relais), a 10th century castle turned primo-residence(s) on the steep coastal hillside. Wow. The place is sprawling. We have a terrace in addition to about 30 other places on the grounds we can chill, relax and honeymoon. Oh and there's a pomegranate tree right below our room.

- put bags down, Es reads while K takes nap. Es swims in ocean (they have a private dock sort of thing, of course, jeeez) w/ some Swedes while K hikes back up hillside to room for bathing suit. Return, swim.

- shower, lounge while Es readies, *, walk down to Atrani, the nearest village that everyone's recommended as being more chill than Amalfi but just as (or more) quaint. the walk to Atrani (& Amalfi beyond) is a bit sketch - a narrow "two laned" road (in America it'd be considered a 'narrow one-way alley). "Walk on the seaside only", they say. We do manage to never get killed on said road, for what that's worth.

- Buy stuff for lunch the next day at a market on the way. K then charged with carrying Esra's super gay fabric bag for the rest of the night. K looks fabulous.

- 'Leap of Faith' short cut down a that-narrow-winding-stairway-amidst-locals'-houses-looks-like-it-Could-head-into-the-town-piazza-but-man-it-looks-a-bit-scary.

- Dinner in the piazza (umberto) at something-something-Luisilla. Fish ravioli, ziti in onion sauce (cooked for 4 hours! MmMmmM), filet of fish in lemon sauce, egglant, house wine, Es is curious asks for shot of Cynar [insert thumbs down symbol here ... blech]

- walk up Arani street thinking I would recognize the cave restaurant I'd seen on Mario Eats Italy. Do not find.

- back down to water edge then back to piazza for a wine & beer. sitting next to annoying 3 drunk girls with an italian player guy who was absolutely angling to sleep with all of them. (lead drunk girl ended up being on our flight back, incidentally enough)

- taxi back. "the nighttime rate is €20" says taximan. which Es does not like in the slightest, *.

9-16-08

- 9am wake up call. slow wakies spooning while loving view from bed (mountains, ocean, italian hillsides.. y'know.. all that beautiful crap). Barely make it to breakfast in time. write this.

- laid out by pol, read, up to room, ate on terrace, back to pool area, more sunning.

- up to room, Es readies self, K naps, we wait for bus out on road.

- end up walking 1/2 way to Atrani before bus comes to fork in road for Atrani/Amalfi and Ravello (the hillside Ravello, not coastal Ravello).

- Amalfi! finally! (we sort of planned the honeymoon around Amalfi which is why I was a bit disappointed to be in Ravello, not Amalfi)

- walk down side streets to a limoncello laboratorio (who'd charge €75 for s/h to the US? Ya, right). Weird stoner girl and two guys seemingly hit on me, us. (Because of my awesome Skinny Puppy shirt from high school with the Gustav Dore etching design from Dante's Inferno?! it's possible)

- in to the piazza itself (wow), browse/shop our way up the street (yes, more spoon rest hunting)

- Es gets ham & cheese pastry thing & 3 mini balls (minds out of the gutter people, rice & cheese balls), a beer & an espresso for me.

- up to the Chiesa (church) for pix. I light a candle for mi mama. back down steps.

- more walking, shopping, browsing, hit up the tourist office, totally unhelpful.

- back through town to "travel agency" for info on scooter, car rentals. totally helpful.

- Es buys K most awesome wallet in the world.

- up & down & around & through steps & passageways to (restaurant) El Teatro (an old, converted children's theater .. thanks kids!) for a liter of wine, salad, veal scallopine with lemon, squid with mint sauce

- back to travel agency, get Strega factory address, Es calls bank to clear up a non-issue.

- to piazza, get a limoncello & strega, merangue & macaroon, bus back

- drinks on terrace Nastro Azzuro, Mmmmm, music, moon, *.

9-17-08

- slow wake, *, shower, breakfast

- read on our terrace, walk into Minori, btchass-bank-clerk coldcocks my $/€ exchange attempt

- on to Maiori. Es has egg panini, K salami. bitter lemon & orange soda. rent scooter! (ciao!)

- up to Ravello! (ciao!), park. check out small, empty cave church, up to Northern piazza.

- take pix, eat a plum, check out a 5StarL hotel & it's view, in to check ceramic stor-naments, check out the park from the movie Beat The Devil! more pix.

- to Villa Rufolo - accidentally go immediately to exit! oops. back thru, view V. Rufolo.

- tour the town & shops a bit on way to Convent San Francisco (complete with bench marking a spot where Saint Francis of Assisi supposedly sat). pix, on to Vila Cimbrone.

- no one's at the ticketbooth so I whisper "keep walking", this does not work as ticket taker appears out of thin air. walk throughout the Villa, wow. truly amazing. (see pics, as per usual)

- back to & thru town. stop at ceramic store where a gloaty-boobed-saleslady brags that she "just sent these to Rachel Ray and these to Oprah, these to Bloomingdale"

- Scooter (ciao) back down to Atrani then to Amalfi, buy presents, SITA bus tix for later so we can go out and eat, drink, take bus

- back to Villa Scarpariello (ciao!), nap, Es showers, miss bus, walk to Atrani, tempers flare.

- dine at Paranza, K sullen (tempers wear away at me), fish appetizer baked w/ mozzarella, pasta di mare, risotto scampi (not so scampi'y), Es suprises K with prickly pear dessert (we kept seeing them growing everywhere). Deem desert to actually be Hard-Innedible-Seeds-With-Essense-of-Cactus-Flavor. maybe we just got a bland one. outside, a beautiful tan siamese cat mewed at us incessantly. funny, cute, a little scary (stop, already!)

- down to piazza, Es gets limoncello, K still sullen (ed note: get over it already, dude)

- cab back with same driver, sleep (not with driver)

9-18-08

- slow wake, resolve sullenness from last night, breakfast, ready for day.

- scooter (ciao!) to, up through Amalfi, on to Conca Di Marini for the

- Grotto de Esmerlda (emerald colored water, same idea as blue grotto - underwater hole lets light in, lights an enclosed cave). elevator dwn to it, steps down, up, Es needs bathroom so back down, up, elevator, in to ceramics shop (still no spoon rest) to use bathroom, back down elevator, stairs, 10 to a boat around .. what turns out to be a 100' by 100' cave.

- only .. let's say .635 as cool as the blue or green grottoes. a nativity scene underwater? really?

- wenchy coffee puller makes K Hulk angry. Es buys postcard, then ciao! to & up & up through Minori. See a dog hanging out with a chicken hanging out with a horse.

- Stop for gas, open tank, wait, wait, look around, ask someone, "oh, we are closed".

- back through Maiori a bit, drop off scooter (ciao, ciao!)

- Es chills at beach, K walks, looks for travel agency

- SITA bus back to Scarapiello, read at pool, ta, rest, read, wind kicks up so up to room.

- shower, *, ready selves.

- hurry to bus (then wait for it) in to Amalfi, btchass tourist office unhelpful again.

- pass another ceramic store, ask if Es wants to go in, get "I'm going to kill you if you dont buy one" look back. And whadayaknow? a spoon rest! it wasnt yellow lemons on yellow background but IS a yellow-lemon on a pomegranatey background which we'd both agreed was a viable alternative. I impress Es with bargaining skills (tho I kick myself 'cause the guy seemed like he might have gone lower)

- on to restaurant on beach with amazing view of Amalfi.

- anchioves, spaghetti (in 'paper envelope', with fruita di mare), seabass, white wine di Volpe in honor of my Volpe-last-named set dresser friend who's hooked me up with many a job. espressos, limoncellos.

- walking, Es gets a chocolate thing, lemon dipped in choc.

- volunteer girl for teachers gets 50p out of us. walk, no soccer bars, please, drink at bitchy Bar Francais, 1st no tip of the trip

- miss bus back (plus our tix were expired, but Es wanted to try anyway), have to take cab. €30 please. Es: NO! get our hotel manager up here right now! ok, €25. NO! Ridiculous! Ok, ok.. 20. Ok, 20. (I love this woman). drink a beer, wine, Es no likes people talking below, starts making racket while I try to quiet my cutely drunk wife. turns out to be quite hilarious. *, sleep

9-19-08

-8:30 wake up call, get to breakfast at 9:30. (getting out of the house is not Team Dayani's current strong suit)

- back to room, pack, check out w/ young jerk dude (vs the awesome dominique with stories and admirable bitterness galore and the 4 month old hair dye job and possibly 4 month's-dirty pants)

- cab (a mercedes no less, most cabs in italy seem to be mercedes & alfa romeo, or weird euro-minivans) to Salerno. windiness of Amalfi coast makes us both nauseated in a matter of minutes. somehow survive the 15-20 remaining minutes there without hurling (or hurTling, as in: off the steep cliffsides)

- get to Hertz in Salerno, car isnt ready so to bank, exchange $ for €'s - for which the guy enters my passport info into a computer, xeroxes it, faxes that off, makes me sign 3 documents, faxing 2 of those with 3 receipts for everyone. Other places we've changed $ have barely glanced at passports (Istanbul didnt even do that, just give us $, yo!)

- go to a kebab place (first middle-eastern food of the trip) but the taxiguy before us gets 7 or so portions of shaved chicken skewer meat so there's barely room enough for one shwarma-esque sandwich (auuuuggg, non-italian-deliiiicious), Es gets piza next door, back to Hertz

- load up our typically-italian-Euro-tiny-car, start car, lurch forward, stalling out... Oh. stick shift! Yeay! (do american rental car co's even offer stick shift anymore?)

- follow Hertz-lady's directions out of town, mess up, circle Salerno traffic for 25-30 mins, find Autostrade, finally! ciao! to Benevento (Strega factory location)

- follow signs to Avelino, get to Avelino then uhh.. then what? get lost. try to 3-point-turn, cant get IN to reverse, mild panic, realize need to pull up on stick shift sheath thingy.

- ask at gas station / coffee bar / bar (yes, a fully-liquored bar inside a gas station/coffee bar/bar), find Autostrade again, On To Benevento!

- Es says, in same escalating tone each time, "korRY!" each time I (safely) pass a car. Arrive in Benevento but it's huge (sorta, 60K residents we later hear) and we're supposed to find a factory in a huge (looking) town?

- Es uses her (mostly) Spanish & we ask two different guys, not really understanding but hear "train station" which we end up somehow running right into (not Right Into, but in front of) and what happens to be right across the street? The Strega Factory.

- which. Is. Closed. (K manages to not cry (on the outside))

- Buzz in to security area, make impassioned plea to italian security guard guy who gets a lady on the phone that we make impassioned plea to who says our visit is unexpected but she will be down in 10 minutes to talk to us. (K still not crying). Lady shows up with a gift bag (which I think is very nice of course but am sad because this is probably our "parting gift"). Alas, she says "if you dont mind the rain, I will give you a tour of the factory"!! this would be the moment the happy-crack was released into my blood stream. Despite mild'ish headache I've been nursing all day, I am out of my mind thrilled. Es snaps pics as we get a full, awesome, personal tour. Moderate rainfall ruins Nothing. Happiness increases tenfold when I realize she's going to let us into the closed Strega shop out front. I shop the F out of that store, buying 2 bottles of Strega reserve (aged 10 years in wood barrels and not sold in the US), strega crema, strega baba, a bunch of chocolate and part of my gifts for my groomsmen. And a t-shirt. And she gave us 6 strega glasses. And the gift bag had a buncha sweet Strega shwag of course. Again, I say, Heaven, my surroundings were. Also, she gives us directions to the outer-circling freeway for Rome (exactly like D.C.'s-"beltway") called tangenzione.

- Drive, drive, pass cars, rain sucks, drive some more, drive.

- stop at an AutoGrill, get best Oh-Good-Lord-I-Am-SO-Hungry food ever. Phone eats our phone card while trying to call the girl who's hooking us up with our vrbo.com vaca rental.

- Drive. dont stop to call Elena (above mentioned girl, bitch), drive, K stressed, Es stressed, freeway traffic, Roma tangenzione reached but we still dont know where in Rome we need to go (poor planning perhaps? perhaps) Es says: roll down your window then, I'll ask someone! to which I'm thinkin' 'yyyeah, that's really gonna work'. Somehow, someway, it works. Sort of. A lot of the which-way-should-we-turn or which-road-should-we-take-now we chose completely out of imagined instinct so if there was a patron saint of dumb luck, he must have been in our glove compartment.

- Es asks where Stazione Termini is (central train station terminal) and for a phone card at a Tabacchi (cigarettes & phone cards arent sold in stores, only "tabacchi" shops, usually a news-standy kinda place, usually with an espresso bar attached), no phone cards, try next tabacchi, yes! phone card. make the call to Elena (bitch!)

- Ugh. Elena .. tells Esra over the phone that.. she is, not at the flat we're to stay in, but home already. (it is 20 minutes after 8pm, our meeting time was between 7-8).. and that she wont come back to let us in to the place, we can try again tomorrow. Esra pleads, begs, pleads more and finally loooses it. hystrionics ensue.

- K is a F'n champion at soothing his now insane bride. drive around, looking for hotels, traffic sucks but within 20 mins, find nice great hotel, check out rooms & take it despite price. circle car, bellhop unloads our bags and embarassingly-huge-Strega booty haul, get to room, chillll on bed with eyes closed, then a little (our first of the trip really) tv, a little more tv while Es readies herself.

- pizza? ok. pizza, beer, veggies & grapes brought back to room to watch more Fantasia with (the hypnotically-freckle-boobed) Barbara D'Urso. Es says it's ok if I marry her too (ok, no she didn't, but she DID let me remain magically-captivated and commenting on said natural and gravitationally-hyperactivated-boobness - have I mentioned how much I love this woman? (Esra I mean, not Barbara D'Urso))

- We drink 1 beer each of the 3 we bought, pass (the F) out, sleeeeep.

9-20-08

- wake at 8:30, *, fun, quick shower, up to roof garden for breakfast

- throw a small piece of cut melon at a pesky pigeon that has the balls to land on the corner of our table. It misses and flies off side of roof (hopefully hitting another pigeon on the street below)

- get car from garage, get turned around trying to find Hertz, go back to gas station, ask, find Hertz, it's closed.

- Es goes in & asks at a ritzy hotel, gets directions to a mall with a Hertz in underground parking area, return car! Yeay! Ciao! (I've never been so happy to get rid of a car), find bathroom, accidentally bump into a guy going in to bathroom area, Es says be careful (of Rome muggers)

- I imagine, and then go into detail relaying to Esra, the whole imagined-fight I just had in the bathroom with two muggers involving my use of multiple shin kicks (your brain shuts down temporarily with a good shinbone strike, it's true). Also, sneak-attack ice cream headaches are employed, wherein I shove ice creams into the faces of my assailants until they are also mentally-incapacitated by delicious, but brain-freezing ice creams. To this date, I believe this to be my finest and most foolproof imagined fight scenario yet.

- Down to Spanish Steps, have awesome mushroom pizza with truffle oil from small pizza-by-the-kilogram quick-pizza-stop (best of trip, possibly).

- to Trevi fountain, recreate photo taken 30 years prior of me in my dad's coat, at Trevi fountain. pics & more pics, drink fountain water. To pantheon, pics

- towards colliseum (into 2 churches along way, you almost cant avoid sweet churches in Italy), stop at Supermarcato (K loads up on typical K-travels stuff (shampoo & toothpastes in Italian)), get food at sidewalk restaurant (gnocchi with gorgonzola & pears, salad). To Vittoriano.

- Up & up & through Vittoriano, on to colliseum

- Tour dude tries to sell us on joining his tour group-with-extra-tickets. Turns out they Don't have extra tickets but as we've been chatting, he hush-hush walks us past a 30 minute line to a different window (the didactic (audio) tour line). Audio tour colliseum. As awesome as I sorta-halfway-but-do remember it from when I was 8.

- Out of the colliseum, we head up to a park to catch the last bit of sun before sunset, rest head in Es's lap, a great moment.

- Up through rest of park, quick peek into Chiesa Santa Maria, past Basilica fountain, then on & on. In to a bookstore, a tabachi, buy 3 packs of smokes & fonzies then realize our paper money situation is too low to account for smokes/fonzies AND cab rides to dinner & train station tomorrow. Embarassingly explain to guy need to return for cash we just paid.

- back to hotel, naaaap deeeply. Es showers, readies self, keeps readying.

- tempers re: readying and where her "approved ATM's" are, where our restaurant she picked for the night is (far) and how we should go about Getting a taxi there.

- taxi comes, to fountain area, find the recommended restaurant, it's 2 million thousand € per plate (slight exageration), back down street to Casa Romano, get seated outdoor. Appetizer, wine. Es is too cold, we move inside (only after drunkly-loud, singing dutch girls clear out). Great bacomati spaghetti, not so awesome meat in white sauce (cooked awesomely rare, tho they never asked our preference), spinach, bottle of chianti, back to hotel.

- In taxi we bet how many miles we walked that day (Es: 8.8mi, K: 10mi ..winner TBD)

- Es gets in a mood about taxi rate, questions & requestions taximan about it.

- back at hotel, Es arranges wake up call, we pack, more packing, sleep (only 4.5hrs - ugh)

9-21-08

- 6am wakeup call, Es gets up and readies

- 6:55 K out of bed

- 7:05 we leave room, check out downstairs

- taxi arrives, we give last €10 we have, get credit card train tix, train to Fumicino airport

- No signs to "Terminal 5", find the shuttle bus for it anyway, go through 1st security check, get to check-bags, then security scan then passport stamp line then another shuttle bus to Another terminal. Duty free, get food, deal with food-place-chaos. Finally at our gate where we board yet Another shuttle bus to our plane.

- I'm excited to have my first window seat of the trip (I've deferred to the Mrs up to now but no more!) only to find out that our seats are in one of those middle isles.

- George-Clooney-athon holds interests (go George Clooney, gooo!)

- meal on plane is the first pesto I've seen in all of Italy (that we've seen).

- land, passport control, get bags, cab back, blah blah blah, we're home!

Thoughts on, after being back:
Someone recently asked me "Kory+wife=bliss, right?" - not sure if it was meant tongue in cheek or not, I answered it seriously. In hindsight, I summed up a lot of what we've been feeling since the wedding:
'bliss' being relative to the moment, it comes in waves, mostly. honeymoons are funny that way, vacations too i reckon - both geared towards fun & relaxation yet everyone i've been with on one (well, been on vacations with, at least) always seems to suffer a share of tempers at just how that fun & relaxation are to be had. since we've been back though, there's definitely an overriding sense of a heretofore-unknown-type of bliss that's taken away a lot of the old petty nonsense & bickering that used to crop up. maybe it's 'no more wedding and honeymoon planning' but it's weird, i cant shake the feeling that it's somehow coming from the wedding ring itself. Or the strange "oh my god, we're married" feeling which for a while is probably still gonna have us both thinking "wait, we're not OLD enough to be married!". ya, 38, and i'm feeling like it's something only older people do. weird. giddy. ....blissful.

ALSO: there'll be an official journal entry with slideshows for all the below, but if you want a sneak peak (that doesnt include a disposable camera I havent gotten back yet to upload nor the wedding photographer pics) ... feel free to copy/paste the below....

----K & E's wedding wknd pics
http://picasaweb.google.com/esragaffin/WeddingWeekend9608?authkey=4nj60hEcqxo

----Honeymoon - from NY up thru & including Capri
http://picasaweb.google.com/esragaffin/HoneymoonUpThruCapri?authkey=nj_z4qNW4Nw

------Honeymoon - from Positano up thru & including Ravello
http://picasaweb.google.com/esragaffin/HoneymoonPositanoUpToRavello?authkey=d3Cq48IS6P8

-----Honeymoon - leaving Ravello up thru & including leaving Rome
http://picasaweb.google.com/esragaffin/HoneymoonTOSorentoUpThruLeavingRome?authkey=fKEfT_g4VGs

Wedding Pix .. part "our camera"

And lo, unto the happy couple, a glorious wedding did appear. See for yourself (the pics from Esra & Kory's camera only.. the wedding photographer photos will be posted as soon as we get them)

(to view all the pictures together in VIEW ALBUM mode, mouse over the slideshow below, then the text bubble box, bottom left and click on the underlined "Wedding weekend" link)

Bachelor Party pix party

I just uploaded pictures from my bachelor party in the Catskills .. they can be found approximately right here:

pictures I may or probably-may-not-have posted

did i ever post the pics of my old place?  284 Mulberry btwn Prince & Houston?  like I said I was going to do when I moved in there?   maybe I did.  maybe I didn't... and so:

Kory in IMDB . com now .. and what else he's been doing

well, there's not a lot of detail in the listing (yet) but it seems I'm now listed on IMDB (Internet Movie DataBase).

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm3062517/

I need to get them to correct the listing 'cause i was actually "on set dresser / buyer" .. in pre- and production stages (not post-production. odd 'cause why would anyone be 'buying' during post-production? (after the movie's been shot) I think the production office people didn't quite understand job titles 'cause for the first week of production they had me listed on the call sheets as an 'on set buyer' ... which makes even less sense. As in.. would I be buying things that are "on set" already??)

Also.. I know I've been pretty negligent in keeping the journal updated on what I've been doing lately (aside from wedding & honeymoon & bachelor party planning) ... I currently have three shows that I worked on, on tv right now (Stylista, Legally Blonde and Everyday Baking) ... so here's a snippet from my latest resume update a list of everything I've worked on since I made the career switch:

Sonora Films: cooking show TV pilot episode: 'Men-U' - Set Dresser

Interesting Monster - Michael Jordan clothing line season launch - Set Dresser
Interesting Monster - photo shoot: Harper Collins, book cover - Set Dresser
Project East/West A - Feature Film: Achchamundu! Achchamundu! - On Set Dresser / Buyer
Two Cities Productions - TV series: Stylista - with Tyra Banks - Set Dresser
Take It Over - TV series: Legally Blonde - Art Dept Production Assistant
Humble TV - commercials: Honey Bunches of Oats - Set Dresser / Carpenter / PA
N.Y.P.S. - print ad: Macy's President's Day sale - Set Dresser / Art Dept PA
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: David's Bridal - Art Dept Production Assistant
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Macy's Christmas - Art Dept Production Assistant
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Home Shopping Network - Set Dresser / Art Dept PA
Interesting Monster - stage: Now and Then, Guggenheim Museum - Set Dresser
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Macy's Christmas - Art Dept Production Assistant
Martha Stewart TV series: Everyday Baking - Culinary PA / Asst Food Buyer
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Macy's thanksgiving commercials - Shopper / Art Dept PA
Day O Productions - commercials: Honda - Production Assistant
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Weight Watchers - Art Dept Production Assistant
N.Y.P.S. - commercials: Macy's One Day Sale - Shopper / Art Dept PA
Smuggler Films - commercials: Verizon broadband - Art Dept PA
Left/Right Prod's - Court TV pilot: Young and Reckless - Set Dresser / Art Dept PA

work delays talk of work ... no more

It seems I wrote this on 3/3/08 but didn't post it. .. . . . . . (?)

Ahh, work.

.... where to begin?

---This not-writing-often-then-cramming-all-recent-happenings-summary into a few paragraphs is self defeating from a motivational standpoint.... as in, the longer i dont write, the less I want to write...

...and so, I never know where to start when I haven't ..started in so long..

and SO... into the fire:

---I'm working. again. finally. It had been since December 18th that I'd had a steady (or unsteady) production job. Granted, the Istanbul trip put a 10 day blackout period for potential jobs I could take so... praise be for the Unemployment Insurance that carried me through the winter (traditionally, very rough on the production world.. most production co's shut down for the winter). The writer's strike also seems to have put the kaibosh on our industry's employment capabilities [whistle - gratuitious use of the word "Kaibosh" - 15 yard penalty - First Down!]

---A friend from my Macy's jobs hooked me up with the job.. Basically, on this job I'm driving the "art cube" around NY & NJ, picking up and dropping of various set related needs to and from renal and supply houses, stores, etc.. and taking them to our three locations.

---The show, you ask? What is it? Hmm. I need to ask my production coordinator just what our confidentiality agreement covers but basically, it's a reality tv show wherein 10 ladies are living together and competing to be the next lead in a popular Broadway musical ...adaptation of a movie. I'm sure the confidentiality thing covers only the results of the show.. ie, who's been eliminated from week to week, who wins, etc... but I want to make sure before I name the show. [[ I can safely add now that the show is Legally Blonde, currently being aired on MTV ]]

---How is it? the work? It's actually quite awesome. When I first started this job, I was a little disappointed that I was the only Art Dept PA in an Art Dept full of set dressers (I'm trying to move into doing just set dressing as that's what I really want to do and the pay is almost double) but as the day's pass by, I'm realizing that I actually have it pretty sweet .. I'm out and about all day, driving around, listening to the radio or cd's and now, I'm on a laptop, parking and 'borrowing' local wifi connections. I've also been getting released at 6 or 6:30, where the set dressers are staying till 8 or 9 or 10 each night. Word has it, everyone's jealous of my off-set freedom.

---How are the people? What's an average day like? Wow, you sure do ask a lot of questions, but ok. The people are great.. absolutely. Everyone's been really nice, mellow, competent and ... fun to work with... there's often a few ...difficult cogs to the production machine, but not on this show. A typical day starts with picking up the truck ( ) at 11th Ave & 45th, heading up to the "hotel" location (where the top floor restaurant has been turned into the girls' apartment), either loading up some stuff into the truck to take to the "rehearsal" spot (where the girls audition, practice, etc) or the "theater" (where the elimination contests will take place before the judges) or heading out to various supply houses to pick up things for those locations. I bounce around between Manhattan, Brooklyn, New Jersey, Queens, the Bronx and all points in between ... which are uhmm.. basically, the bridges and tunnels.

---Which certainly deserve a paragraph unto itself. In addition to a thousand intra-city traffic laws, trucks are not allowed in the Holland tunnel (just heading into Manhattan, it's ok leaving), they're not allowed on the West Side Highway (above 57th), the Brooklyn Bridge, the FDR, the lower roadways of half a dozen other bridges and basically, pretty much every where you'd want to go. And so, the Lincoln tunnel, Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges become your friends. The 59th St bridge is your secret lover allowing you quick access to Queens (what?! eyew). 2nd Avenue and 10th Avenue are good whereas Canal and 5th Avenue are baaad. You quickly learn to pay attention to a sea of street signs you never noticed before doing these jobs and the secret world of shortcuts and traffic blackholes becomes a language you learn, out of necessity, on the job. You discover that all other drivers are, without exception, morons - except for the ones who aren't (ie. the ones who let you make that hard right turn in front of them or anyone who waves 'thanks' at you). Pedestrians, drivers, bikers, handsome cab drivers with their sad looking horses, cops and trashmen, delivery guys and office workers - we're all unboundedly selfish when it comes to getting around this town. Selfish in protecting our valuable time, our spot in traffic, our right to take advantage of the crosswalk lag time between our green light ending and the waiting finally traffic honking 'cause we're delaying their perfect green-light-getaway. Cab drivers "stop right here!" - in the middle of the road, and everyone has to wait. Waiting and rushing, jockeying and occasionally, being that nice guy who waves in the frustrated driver just trying to enter the flow - it's 'traffic' multiplied by New York city attitude, making it logically ordered, chaotically frustrating and the truest test of patience and zen I may have ever endured.

---A quick aside: as I'm typing this from out in front of the "theater" (from which they've rented a few additional floors upstairs for the .. uh.. the "casting office" supposedly from which the musical was "already cast") ... It's 18 degrees out. We've unloaded a truck full of furniture for the "casting office" not 30 minutes prior. Five set dressers and our production designer worked to set it up quickly and now.. I'm looking in my side view mirror at a camera crew of maybe 10 people (2 to 3 cameras, I cant tell for sure) run around and crouch for good angles as the "girls", all in completely non-winter clothes, come running up to the theater (in high heels mostly), smiles on their faces, their laughter visible (tho not quite making it to me, thank you NPR). Two have mini-skirts on. Repeat: mini-skirts. Repeat: 18 degrees. Not counting the wind, which is, in fact, quite breezy. It hurts, the cold.. mostly on exposed skin but your thighs experience a chill that just makes you want to punch the cold in it's stupid fu##ing face, just 'cause you're that pissed off at it. ... Ok. The girls are inside, everyone can again relax ... and get the hell back inside.

---Ok. that's it for now. I suppose a strategy for writing more often is to not write a million pages each time I set out to write, so... let's give that a shot.

[[ unfortunate post script: I was hired on as the one Art Department PA (production assistant) while the guy who got me on to the job, and the rest of my workmates were all "set dressers" - which is now the job title I most often have and what I enjoy the most. I took the Art Dept PA job 'cause that's all they had left available and I needed the work. Long story short.. Local Union 52 entered into successful negotiations with MTV and ended up "walking on" all of the set dressers only (not me since I was the Art Dept PA) ... into their union. As in, everyone I worked with on the job is now in the union. A task that takes some people 10 or more years, some people never get in (some people take the test a dozen times and never get in). Alas.. it was not my time for the union. hopefully soon ]]

Wedding registry

As if you, in your most omniscient state, somehow did not know we were getting married (here, by the way .. more details here by the way again)...

We're registered at

Crate and Barrel

and at:

Amazon.com
and at:
Bed Bath and Beyond
and at:
Macy's

enter in Dayani in Registry search fields to find us.

Istanbul photos, 2008

the slideshow below moves a little fast - you can mouse over it and pause-and-play at your own speed or you can double click on the slideshow to bring up the pictures as thumbnails that you can view however you like.

I wrote the following postcard (and a variation of it) and then liked it so much I didn't want to just mail it off and not remember what I said so I umm.. photocopied it ... so I could transcribe it here:

Merhaba from Istanbul -

Wow. It's a different world here. Mosques & minarets, towers & tall apartments, restaraunts & cafes, kitties & more kitties, stray dogs - but mostly kitties - everywhere. Trams & trains & busses and ferries upon ferries crossing the Bosphorous, dodging small and large fishing and commercial vessels, large tankers, cruise ships - with seagulls everywhere. Not just over water but the city itself. A strange hyper-Europe with Middle East backdrop - or maybe it's the other way around. Our first flat overlooks it all. Ok, not all, but a lot. Four of the 'main' mosques, markets, the Bosphorous & Galata tower from our bedroom. 7 flights of stairs but worth it (once you're up the stairs at least). Yesterday was sightseeing at mosques & Topkapi Palace and then dinner & coffees with Esra's "auntie", shopping on Istiklal Cad and walking, walking and more. Today we ferry to meet up with Esra's cousin & later her mom, dad & more Aunts & Uncles. Thursday we do the hamam (steam/bathhouses) and Saturday is the big engagement dinner. Looking out at the view now, I'm amazed I can write anything at all - there is so much richness of detail, So much to see and hear everywhere. Muzzeyin's call out prayer 5x a day which only adds to the other-worldliness of it all,

Until next time (when we're all here together!)

Kory & Esra

Bits of Tid

As if wedding planning weren't enough, Esra and I are gearing up for our move in together .. to Brooklyn no less. very exciting. almost 5 years in Manhattan has steeled up the it-might-be-possible-for-me-to-not-live-in-the-nexus-of-the-universe nerves. more on that later obviously..
UPDATE: We sign a lease tomorrow! for a place almost exactly here, in North Middle [Park] Slope, Brooklyn. I'm not sure if the neighborhood-naming-police will allow me to call it North Middle Slope (NoMiSlo .. or NoMiPaSlo) or not but hey, that's where it is. [the g-map shows it closer to 4th Ave, it's actually the same distance from 5th Ave instead]

Esra, Matt, Karen, Brian and I went to see Michael Showalter and Michael Ian Black (of The State, Stella [possibly my favorite tv show ever, only 6 episodes, rent it], Wet Hot American Summer, etc, etc, etc) do stand up in Williamsburg. Hi[hhh]-laaaar[e]-e-ous ... see 'em in your town if you've ever been a fan of ... laughing.

Granted, I'm no activist / lobbyist so no thanks to me, but I've been waiting 4.5 years for NY to institute a plastic bag recycling program. thank you NY city council!

More reasons to love Michael Showalter more than life itself (or somewhere near that amount), sorry Pats fans, but it's true. walking off the field before the game was over only proved it.

Holiday photos, 2007

mouse over the pics for captions / descriptions... and ... cash back frequent flyer bonus discount coupons!!

the Martha Stewart show I worked on, Everyday Baking, is airing on your television!

Tune in to the premiere of “Everyday Baking from Everyday Food” starting Sunday, January 6, 2008 on PBS. The new, half-hour program, hosted by John Barricelli, features easy and delicious baking recipes for cookies, cakes, pies, tarts and more - all from the pages of Everyday Food.

--------Check your local listings for air dates.

honestly, if you like baking, the chef dude makes some freakin' amazing desserts you might want to try. And I can safely answer 'Yes' to the question "are the things they make on set really delicious?".

2007 Year End round-ups

Things and things that I haven't talked about (maybe?) -

- Esra and I are going to Istanbul.. Jan 13 - 23rd. very exciting. her mom's side of the family lives there and.. as her dad, mom and brother (and cousins) will be joining us, and as Esra and family have planned an 'engagement dinner' of sorts at Fenerbahçe Club

- Many pictures of Istanbul to come... ala the kick-arse camera we bought with christmas money (for 1/2 the amazon price, wooo!)

- I've worked on the following since I last told ya what I've worked on: Macy's, Macy's, Macy's, Dave's Bridal and, it still makes me laugh: Honey Bunches of Oats.
the Macy's were 2 commercials and 1 print ad, the Dave's Bridal was a commercial. Honey Bunches of Oats was a music video 'homage', let's say, to Flight of the Conchords and/or Tenacious D and/or the SNL Digital Shorts music video spoofs. The 'song' was "Breakfast in Bed" complete with the lines "girl, I love it when you masticate" and (referring to their bowls of cereal) "wanna make sure I dont finish before you". ya. weird to watch, for sure. mostly funny tho. And being the "hey, Kory normally does Art Dept PA work" guy, I got 'borrowed' by the Art Director often and put to much use building walls (it's someone surprising how rewarding it is to turn a box of screws and some 2x4's into solid walls in under 5 minutes). Long hours though.. 17 on one of the 3 days, 15 on another.

- Then it was my birthday, yeayyy. We went here. Also, I know it goes without saying but, it was Warren Sapp's birthday too.

- Speaking of the Raiders... I will respectfully not speak of the Raiders except to say that they are still the best team ever.  by ever, I mean next year.

Song of the Week

A true stick-in-the-header, for sure:

The Knife - Heartbeats

hmmm.... interesting... under youtube's "related" videos shows... what i do believe is actually the original version a cover of heartbeats.. by Jose Gonzales,  annnnd... now having (re)seen the video, i do remember clips of the bouncey balls bouncing down those SF hills.  check it out..  talk about MUST SEE videos... yeesh.

Song(s) of the week - making up for lost time

I still have a few rumbling around in the old noggin that need sharing, for Surely:

Architecture in Helsinki - Heart it Races

   (the video is a must for this one.. tis great, from 2:15 on needs to be seen)

Fujiya & Miyagi - Ankle Injury

this one isn't stuck in my head, but as far as videos go... this oughta be seen too

Battles - Tonto

not really a stuck-in-the-head song either but the video is freakin beautiful; great concept.

Song of the Week

in the interest of writing more than I have lately (ie. none), I'm going to start posting links to songs that get undislodgeably stuck in my head.  Until they get dislodged by the next song to stick in my head, that is.  if you dont 'get it' the first go-round, give it another listen.  there's gotta be a reason I'm groovin' on it, eh?

And so... this week's song is:   April March - Chick Habit

enjoy.....

(from the credits for Death Proof.  also from the movie But I'm A Cheerleader)

Sense of smell returns, wish to god it hadn't

Who would have thought that one would actually be disappointed by a human sense returning?

Yes. when I first moved to NY, be it allergies or genetics or even just good fortune, my sense of smell all but vanished. As in, I could smell some things, but random, totally useless smell noticings - like the newness of a roll of masking tape but not a trash can full of dog poop near the dog run in the park. Someone could say "what is that smell?!?? eyew" and my usual response would be "huh? my sense of smell kinda sucks, sorry". Conversely, someone could say "mMmMmm! what is that smell?!?!??" to which my response would usually be the same. The interesting part, came in those middle grounds, usually where someone didn't say anything at all. Then, I could sometimes smell things. I feared I was psychosomatically blocking my own sense of smell because I'd already become used to identifying myself as someone who doesn't smell things. Why would I do that? I dont know, why does anyone do anything psychosomatically? Honestly though, I tried not to question it, lest I lose my envied ability (to not have an ability).

Lately though.. I've been able to smell.. just about everything. I think. I mean, do you really know you're not smelling something if you're not smelling it? (with no one to ask if you're smelling it or not of course). And damn it.. I want my sense of not smelling back. When I moved here, I quickly realized that not smelling New York was a blessing. A profitable trade off of a lot of bad smells not smelled and just a few good smells not smelled. Now I smell that damn charcoal that heats pretzel vendors' carts, the chemicals they use to try to mask the dog run smell and rotting street trashcan trash, crowded subway cars and standing gutter water, the permanent gas cloud at Macy's perfume counters and New York's unique homeless body funk.

I had so romanticized my awesome inability to smell New York (and the hope that my other four senses would compensate, turning me into a cat like superman - moreso than I already am of course) that I really feel like .. I got stripped of a special badge and now, I have to ... sigh.. live like the rest of you. You .. smellers.

Seriously. How do you do it? it's still the best city on earth but man it stinks.

Dary and Paige Dayani wedding pictures

my brother and his .. well, now, wife, got married in south dakota. esra and i went. good times were had by all. take a look at their professionally done photos:

here: http://picasaweb.google.com/Paigedayani/Wedding
and here: http://picasaweb.google.com/Paigedayani/WeddingAlbum2

then take a look at my disposable gems of photographical fine art that took me a million billion years to upload just now:


Interestingly enough, I almost started my photos with the one
below this one. Right. not my wedding. got it.













See why I almost put this one first? Our hotness is barely irressistable. Kudos to Ms Esra for the one-armed picture taking. I've taught you well, young one.













See? even cheesy smiling... hotness.















My dad, stealing kisses. As per usual. Daughter-in-laws are few & far between. I understand.


















Did I mention that we were in South Dakota?












Need proof? Yes, that's me with a fully automatic Uzi submachine gun. Possibly not the best picture of me to have on the internet.














And that's me with a fully automatic extra large cocktail shrimp.










Esra and my dad just after the wedding ceremony. Did i mention that these pics are horribly out of order?








For example, my dad, his gf Betty and friend Art at the reception dinner, post wedding.











Aaaannd, back to pre-wedding.












And then to the reception.












And then Dary and Esra pre-wedding. Dary had that ... suit? outfit? ..made. Incidentally, I was made to wear tuxedo shoes vs. the awesome shoes I had brought myself and I will not be letting anyone involved live that fact down, ever. Hope you like pointy pink elf shoes Dary, my wedding's in September.











Oops. again, we're post wedding (groomsmen). Please do not sing Time Warp.














If you really feel like it, you may sing a cover version of Van Halen's Jump. Any looks of pity you receive are solely your responsibility.











The view from our hotel room. South Dakota (as you will unfortunately not see from our pictures) is flatter than a flat, flat... very flat object. that is flat.










Oh goodness. Seriously. where did my lovely Esra learn to take photos? Yes, you got the tent's crossbar perfectly framed, good. Now cut off the best man's head.. great. Now wait for Kory's eyes to .. [click!]









Ok, that's a bit better.












Esra also really loves pictures of a) flower arangements. b) tables full of food c) there is no c), see a) & b)












See? I cant wait for thanksgiving.












My dad and Bette


















Honestly. Is there a better way to leave the trunk of your rental car? I think not.











Dad and I on a Circle Line tour around Manhattan.
























And Bette and Esra.












And Larry (Esra's dad) and his girlfriend, Eirlys



















































Due South. Lower Manhattan,David Bowie's apt is covered in the white building-shroud thingy. David Geffen's apt is two above that.











Due west. the Puck Building.














Due East. lots of interesting stuff obscured by haze.
















North.

















Southeast. Brooklyn and the Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges not visible due to haze. Stupid haze.














Our engagement party? I think? Lookie what ring made it into the shot. : )














My lovely Esra, at the lake near Sharon, MA she grew up near.














the boardwalk out to the beach, Provincetown - Cape Cod.












Esra's mom's condo-pool.













Mystic, Connecticut. as viewed from a long way away from the actual downtown portion of Mystic.














Esra & her mom in her mom's backyard. cute as buttons, I tell you! both of them.












Rice to Riches, SOHO, NY. all things tapioca.














Hey. look, it's me on my second PA job ever. The Verizon commercial on Lake Sebago.











Kitty-boys! in a sink and beyond sink.
















Lombardi's pizza in SOHO.

















On the drive back from Cape Cod. random river side pictureness. One armed bandit anyone? Ohw yeahhh.

A NYTimes review of the Guggenheim staged reading I worked

Ouch.

the review below, that is. I, personally had a blast. My unofficial mentor to becoming a buyer/shopper / set dresser called me with a four day job that her & her new company partner had booked - high profile names would be in the show and audience (see below - I only saw Cate Blanchett who, I'm sad to say, was not as Cate-Blanchett lovely in person, Elaine Stritch who is lovely (ok, not really) and Anita Ekberg who, a google image search reveals, was freakin' wow-lovely in her day)
My job, along with my PA friend Hudson, was to go to prop houses and stores and rent or buy all the stuff we'd need for the show.. mostly, 8 chairs and the below mentioned lips couch. yes, a lips couch. it was the director's idea and judging from the review, it was the least of his problems... without further aideau, I'll let you read about the car crash, below....

PERFORMA 07 Cate Blanchett, seated, in a Pirandello play reading staged by Francesco Vezzoli.

By GUY TREBAY

Published: November 1, 2007

SLUMPED in a rolling chair behind the information desk at the Guggenheim Museum, clutching about him a vast fringed leather coat from Prada, André Leon Talley, the Vogue editor at large, emitted a theatrical moan. “Where, where, where is Cate Blanchett?” said Mr. Talley, elongating the actress’s name, not altogether sotto voce, until it became a trans-European bleat, a cry of pain.

Enlarge This Image

LINES VS. LONE Cate Blanchett at the Guggenheim.

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Ms. Blanchett, as it happened, was off in the wings, wherever they are, of the great museum, being kitted out in a John Galliano couture dress and trench coat for a star turn that, when it actually occurred, registered as a blur for many of the 800 people who’d already endured several hours of waiting.

By the time Ms. Blanchett appeared, her head swathed in tulle veils, amid flashes of theatrical lightning, not a few people were desperate to follow Mr. Talley, who rose at line three of her monologue and bolted for the door.

This all took place near midnight Saturday, as elsewhere in Manhattan Halloween revelers from foreign lands (well, New Jersey) gaily and drunkenly disported themselves while dressed as prostitutes and clowns. In the museum’s rotunda, a group of eminent actors began an earnest reading of Luigi Pirandello’s “Right You Are (If You Think You Are),” the play, in this case, not exactly utilized as such but as a prop text in a performance piece orchestrated and staged by Francesco Vezzoli, the artist and social gadfly and “bad boy” of Italian art, a person New York magazine recently said “exists at the center of the art-celebrity-fashion nexus that is, controversially, defining the art world today,” whatever that means.

Ostensibly a commentary on the nature of celebrity, the evening featured some of the celebrities Mr. Vezzoli collects, and whom he has cast in performance works like the 2005 “Trailer for a Remake of Gore Vidal’s ‘Caligula’” (Helen Mirren, Benicio Del Toro, Courtney Love), and this year’s “Democrazy” (Bernard-Henri Lévy and Sharon Stone as a presidential candidate and her spouse).

Saturday was the inaugural event of Performa 07, a performance-art biennial organized by the art historian RoseLee Goldberg. At a dinner held before the event at the Upper East Side town house belonging to the art dealer and socialite Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn, Ms. Goldberg said that her personal litmus test for successful performance art is that it makes people weep. “That’s my measure,” she said. “If you cry.”

By that standard “Right You Are (If You Think You Are)” was a galloping success, since people had shed tears to get in, and also battled with flacks and politicked with gallery owners and bartered with friends and pleaded, of course. There were waiting lists for waiting lists. This is because the evening was to feature movie folks like Ms. Blanchett, and Ellen Burstyn and Natalie Portman (in a Prada suit and a glue-on mustache) and Peter Sarsgaard (in a real mustache) and Dianne Wiest and also, let us not forget, the 76-year-old Anita Ekberg, whose “special appearance” amounted to her perching on the pillowy lips of Salvador Dalí’s Mae West sofa, looking as remote (her nickname in 1950s Hollywood was “The Iceberg”) and disgruntled as a Pekingese.

Did the audience feel Ms. Ekberg’s evident unease? It did. Discomfort was built into the evening, as central to it as the Pirandello script, written in 1917, and which, as one critic noted, toys with how “the social role built up by one character for himself is continually destroyed by another, devaluated into a sick sham existence that outsiders accept as real only out of pity.” Put less dramatically, the play and the performance piece both concern a group of provincials speculating interminably about whether a Mrs. Ponza does or does not exist.

Anticipation and duration is always a recipe for a serious reception in New York; add a pinch of punishment and you’re made. The sentence, in this case, took the form of the 90-minute wait in the chill air to get into the museum, a common enough sight at blockbuster shows, yet one that infrequently includes socialites, celebrities and multimillionaires.

Rarely, that is, does one spot the philanthropist Anne Bass or the actress Lucy Liu on the wrong side of a velvet rope. And it is a tribute either to the women’s fortitude or Mr. Vezzoli’s currency that they hung around. Plenty of people defected, stomping off in their Louboutins and Manolos after obediently lining up in the dark for an hour.

Was this part of the grander plan? “I don’t know, I’m not sure, but it’s possible this was part of the intention,” said Miuccia Prada, a supporter of Mr. Vezzoli, who stuck it out for the show and a second-row seat alongside Uma Thurman and near Lou Reed, Laurie Anderson, Mary-Kate Olsen, the art dealer Marian Goodman and Ms. Liu.

Mr. Vezzoli, for his part, insisted otherwise. “We were late because of the hair extensions for Anita Ekberg,” he said. In the aged star’s silent presence, he added enigmatically, could be found the key to the work. “For me, putting Anita Ekberg on a Surrealist pedestal was my way of signing the work. I’m sorry that people had to wait, but it’s so rare to make people angry with art that that’s a form of achievement in itself, I suppose.”

At any rate, as Ms. Portman, in her role as the character Laudisi, inquired: “What can we ever know about others, who they are, why they are, how they behave? Who can finally say what is true?” Not much, to reply, very little, almost nothing, a bit and we’ll get back to you. Still, if there’s anything about celebrity culture all can agree on, it is that it’s no place to go looking for sincerity.

A stampede away from the museum followed the performance, a select group of guests trailing Ms. Prada to a party she held for Mr. Vezzoli at the Bemelmans Bar of the Hotel Carlyle. There — as white-coated waiters passed drinks; and Salman Rushdie buttonholed the hostess; and the artist Terence Koh (a k a Asianpunkboy) held court beneath the deceptively bucolic Bemelmans mural, in which an armed rabbit stalks its innocent brethren; and Mr. Sarsgaard circulated with his girlfriend, Maggie Gyllenhaal; and Mr. Vezzoli sat in a corner looking dazed and febrile after three sleepless days — one forgot the wait, the longueurs, the pretensions of the evening, in part because the Champagne was flowing and also because Mrs. Ponza, or Cate Blanchett, had finally showed up, dressed like a ghost from a Boldini portrait, in a two-minute coup de théâtre that took place just as the evening threatened to slump to an “Inside the Actors Studio” end.

Elegant, substantial, starlike, Ms. Blanchett, as Mrs. Ponza, descended the museum ramps amid an entourage of cameras, light crews and assistants flashing strobes.

“I am whoever you believe me to be,” she said in a sonorous, cinematic Elizabethan accent. “Are you happy now?”

Engagement Party Pictures

are here: Engagement Party Pictures

Just so you can match up the names & faces with who's who, here's a run down of names and who they are to me ... / us. in no particular order (except the one I gave it, based on outright bribes paid directly to me)

Esra: she's m' lady!! (ooooEeeeeOoooo!)
Kory: that would be.. me, I think. let me check. yes. me.

Chris: 1/2 of best man(s), volleyball teammate
Jillian: his girlfriend, volleyball teammate and "my" bridesmaid
Matt: 1/2 of best man(s)
Karen: his fiance
Holly: Maid of Honor, bridesmaid
Dawn: Esra's friend, bridesmaid
Karl: Dawn's boyfriend
Marisa: 1st catskills trip-mate, my 'hero' (got me 1st of PA work)
Seth: Marisa's boyfriend
Meredith: volleyball teammate
Mike: volleyball teammate
Ash: volleyball teammate
Steven: volleyball teammate
Meredith ("Steve's meredith"): Steven's girlfriend
Clare: carpoolmate to this wedding we attended
Rich: Clare's husband, also carpoolmate
Theo: Rich & Clare's baby who'd been in utero during that wedding
Jeremy: Esra's former coworker
Rachel: Jeremy's girlfriend
Dana: Esra's former coworker, friend
Sandi: Esra's former college-mate
Alicia: Esra's Boston friend

did i miss anyone?

Freaky rooftop moment

-- last week, I was sitting on my fire escape, having a cigarette when I heard "excuse me". Odd, as I live on the 7th floor and no genies were floating nearby. A college age kid, it turned out, was on the roof of the building next to me and was asking me for a cigarette. The problem was, there's about an 8 ft gap between their roof and my fire escape so ... he wanted me to toss him the cigarette which, I started to do until I realized that I really needed to be ultra-accurate with my throw, lest this moron go plunging over the side & fall. I showed some hesitation (this is freakin' stuuupid, what the F??) to which he displayed his conviction by... crawling up on the roof ledge and ... dangling his feet over the edge of the roof, arms extended in a "ok, I'm ready to catch the cigarette you're going to throw". All I could say was "woahhh DUDE!!" still flabbergasted that this was some sort of challenge or bravery contest he was determined to show me and his friends he could win. Not only did I have to toss a cigarette (not exactly the most aerodynamic of tossables) across an eight foot gap, I had to get it between two direcTV cables coming off my roof to my apartment. As I lined up for the shot, all I could think was "if you fall and die, I am going to be sooo pissed" and "what kind of f#%ing moron dangles his damn legs over a ... ahhh F it, here goes" and yes, before I could think any more about it .. I tossed it.
-- It honestly could not have been a more perfect shot. Except that.. it hit him in the chest and bounced on his thigh and then... he nabbed it before it rolled off the edge of the roof. Knowing that my heart was about to explode from almost helping this dipsh!t end his life, I barely even heard him say "thanks man" (like it was nothing, like I'd just pointed someone on the street to the subway) and then roll back off the edge of his roof to rejoin his friends, smoke in hand.
-- No way in hell was I going to ask him if he needed a light.

Martha, my brother and Macy's

seemingly, these things would have .. ok, little in common. or maybe a lot.

five weeks of Martha Stewart Everyday Baking or Everyday Food: Baking (depending on who you ask) is in the bag. It was a blast - a great learning experience, easy (as pie, ha.. ha) work, the best hours I've worked so far (8am-6pm) and I ended up with a freezer full of catering leftovers and pantry cupboards full of kitchen staples (hey, our fake set kitchen couldn't have fake set food, right? (answer: wrong, but shhhh)). Also, I managed not to gain 500 lbs working on a show that produced nothing but cakes, pies, cookies, tarts, puddings, etc, etc, etc. How you ask? take the smallest size piece of whatever's offered to you, take a bit or two out of it, throw the rest in the trash.
Everyone I worked with was great, good people, all around - comparatively at least. All productions seem to have a few folk who are consistently .. at least mildly annoying. We had one & even she wasnt that bad. We shot in a studio at 33rd & 10th which was, we found out, where MTV first started (again, another "god I love New York" moment). We ate lunch on the roof with a great view of the west side & Jersey, ships making their way up & down the Hudson. Since the show didn't have an art department perse, I was a general production PA with duties ranging from setting up breakfast & striking lunch to runs around the city in a van or cab, working on set, in the kitchen, assisting the props people - really, a little bit of everything. (oh, the first and last two days consisted of going to Norwalk, CT to get, drive and set up everything we'd need for the set, the kitchen, props, etc - a huuuge, heavy and tiring undertaking) As for the show itself, for about half the time I worked with the culinary producer on set, setting up & clearing the various desserts we made, cleaning up spills, fingerprints, the tops of jars & whatnot - pretty much everything pristine you see on a cooking show was what I made happen. Obviously, not the most difficult job in the world but whenever I thought about it, I remembered that a) I was getting paid well to do something different every day b) I used to sit in cubicle-land, wasting time surfing the net for funny cat pictures. c) I was working on a Martha Stewart show. d) I was experiencing a strange feeling I hadn't felt at a job in almost 20 years... I think it's called ... "self" .. "re ... spe ... ct?" e) I was making a lot of contacts on the show who have a lot of contacts with other culinary tv shows whom I will be hopefully working for soon.
The show will air in January, I'm told - they're in post-production now. Not on the Food Network but whatever channel shows Martha's show.

----My brother. he is getting married. yes. it's true. October 13th. just a few days from now. in South Dakota. very exciting. ok, not the South Dakota part, the wedding part. his fiance Paige is awesome, matching my brother's awesomeness so... there you go. awesome. all around. I feel like I should have more to say on the topic but when your brother is getting married, it's a bit surreal. my little brother's "all grownsed up"!

----Macy's. the next set of Macy's commercials start shooting next monday. at the same studio I worked at for the Verizon commercial (both of which are currently airing by the way.. Verizon commercials are the black guy in the verizon bucket being lowered/inserted into everyday life scenes & helping people with their problems.. the Macy's commercials are thanksgiving day sales & any other one day sale commercials you see. Until I stop doing Macy's commercials I guess, all the Macy's commercials you see will be ones I've worked on.) I'm not so much looking forward to the hours we do for Macy's (7am to 6:30 or 7pm) but I am looking forward to working/training more as a buyer / set dresser, which is what I want to move into, job-wise, in the near future. I've honestly never had as much self respecting fun and fulfillment as when I got to spend someone else's money ($2800 in two weeks) on things that the art director kept confirming were exactly what she wanted. Set dressing also proved to be incredibly rewarding as well as I often got to be a little artistic in my choices and set up of some background items (a nightstand table full of stuff or christmas package wrapping & placement, etc). There is a little bit of frustration in all this in that I want to be a buyer/set dresser now. I keep needing to remind myself that I've only been doing all of this ... what? four months?

(how are the above related? answer: macy's carries martha products, my brother will probably get a few as wedding presents)