<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:35:21.584-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The snake that cannot shed its skin perishes.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114860092808599175</id><published>2006-05-25T19:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T19:49:04.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Songasm</title><content type='html'>Katharine McPhee gave a brilliant performance on American Idol.  Jane Monheit is an established jazz singer.  Here is what they have in common: a dark sultry voice, beautiful cascading locks, and a signature song, Somewhere Over the Rainbow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kat stole some riffs directly from Jane, most notably Jane's unique ending to the song.  Perhaps imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.  Kat lent more intensity to the song with her belting, which seems to be a prerequisite for any American Idol performance.  Her voice "broke" with desperation on some phrases, which was a beautiful touch that sounded sincere.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope Kat's performance will boost Jane's fame.  That would be a nice aftershock.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114860092808599175?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114860092808599175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114860092808599175' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114860092808599175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114860092808599175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/05/songasm.html' title='Songasm'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114732170762044726</id><published>2006-05-11T00:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T00:28:27.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Great save</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.izaak.unh.edu/images/nhltj/fitzgerald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.izaak.unh.edu/images/nhltj/fitzgerald.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's been a while, I know.  Shame on moi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been going on a string of first dates.  None magical, but, hey, it's a start.  Tonight I met a guy, whom I shall refer to as Mr. Dull, for a bit.  You can guess how that went.  The conversation was like a half-deflated helium balloon that I had to repeatedly bop upward in order to stay afloat.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here is how I made my miraculous save, after an excruciating 40 minutes of half-assed conversation with Dull: I decided to walk downtown on the pretense of "meeting a friend" -- anything to avoid sitting on the uptown subway with this guy for the long ride home -- and walked past this place called &lt;a href="http://www.cleopatrasneedleny.com/"&gt;Cleopatra's Needle&lt;/a&gt;.  There was good jazz beckoning from within.  I actually walked 2 blocks past it before I figured, what the hell?  I did a 180, sat down at the bar, and ordered a cosmopolitan.  I bopped along with the jazz for over an hour feeling like fabulously single Manhattan woman.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I stepped out into the night, this random guy struck up a conversation.  The Producer, as I will refer to him, walked with me for about 10 blocks and we chatted about jazz and other things.  He gave me his card -- I'm going to email him, as he is involved with some really interesting media projects and I think he could get me backstage.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114732170762044726?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114732170762044726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114732170762044726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114732170762044726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114732170762044726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/05/great-save.html' title='Great save'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114644814255143706</id><published>2006-04-30T21:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-30T22:06:56.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>W-w-weekend</title><content type='html'>I went on a date with someone from the quiet party.  Several good things came of it.  (1) I tried a new restaurant that had great cheap food, (2) I made cotton candy, and (3) he intro'd me to this little secret bar with a sweet view that you'd never find on your own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I ventured out to Flushing and was rewarded for my efforts, mainly in comestibles.  I had a delicious brunch (picked a restaurant at random -- how could I choose?).  I also bought a lot of gorgeous fruit which I intend to eat exclusively over the next week in my "effort" to lose 10 lbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the movie &lt;a href="http://us.imdb.com/title/tt0140397/"&gt;Mumford&lt;/a&gt; this weekend, and the main character goes trail running.  Inspired, I went running in Fort Tryon park, and there are parts of the park where if I cross my eyes slightly so that I can't see the traffic through the trees or the concrete beneath my feet, I can almost pretend I'm picking my way through some trails.  Ah, gotta love New York.  The movie's good, by the way -- kind of twisted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3834/2768/1600/mum4.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3834/2768/200/mum4.0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dr. Mumford doing his trailrunning.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114644814255143706?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114644814255143706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114644814255143706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114644814255143706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114644814255143706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/w-w-weekend.html' title='W-w-weekend'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114619610794200809</id><published>2006-04-27T23:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-28T00:03:09.800-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jay-running</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tapemarket.com/images/lg/Picture_049.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://tapemarket.com/images/lg/Picture_049.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was the pinnacle of awesome.  I doubt that I will do anything this week that will top this in terms of fun and outrageousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nygames.net"&gt;Capture the flag&lt;/a&gt;.  12 blocks in Soho.  Team Danger vs Team Caution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there I wasn't sure if I would stay.  When a big group of pre-teen boys showed up, I almost left.  But once I tied on that bright yellow CAUTION tape, it was &lt;em&gt;so on&lt;/em&gt;.  Weaving through taxis jamming the streets of Soho, sprinting at full speed across an intersection, victory whooping with a bunch of people you just met that night -- what could make you feel more alive?  I tell you, I became invincible when I was flying by a cluster of Marc Jacobs and Kate Spades in my running shoes, pumping my arms in rhythm, feeling the CAUTION tape fluttering against my skin.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was chasing one guy, and he actually leapt over a barrier into a construction site, hurdled back on to the street, and kept running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stylish Soho pedestrians that we dodged and avoided were usually amused.  Some even stopped to watch.  One guy asked, "Don't kids drink anymore?"  Whatever, man -- drinking was never this fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after tonight, I will never think twice about jaywalking again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114619610794200809?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114619610794200809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114619610794200809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114619610794200809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114619610794200809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/jay-running.html' title='Jay-running'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114616419745709004</id><published>2006-04-27T14:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T14:56:37.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading in the dark</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.rsteviemoore.com/images3/notalking.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.rsteviemoore.com/images3/notalking.gif" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine: you're in a dark and cosy Soho bar filled with strangers, sipping a drink, engaging in witty repartee, and the only sounds you hear are soft music, clinking glasses, and occasional laughter.  What's missing from this scene?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screaming.  Cellphones.  Blaring 80s music.  I went to a &lt;a href="http://www.quietparty.com/"&gt;Quiet Party &lt;/a&gt;last night, and it was one of my best lifetime experiences in a bar.  All verbal exchanges took place by pen and paper.  I think most people are better, at least with strangers, on paper.  Writing notes forces you to be succinct, witty, and thoughtful.  It was so easy and sexy to slip someone a drawing, a name, or a question.  It felt intimate.  That's the most new people I've ever met on a night out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dialogue was priceless.  Some of my favorite excerpts:&lt;br /&gt;"Reading in the dark is bad for you!"&lt;br /&gt;"You're cute...from behind.  You don't turn around!"&lt;br /&gt;"What's lymphangiectasis?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was one of the best nights out I've ever had.  I might just have to throw a silent bash of my own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114616419745709004?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114616419745709004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114616419745709004' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114616419745709004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114616419745709004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/reading-in-dark.html' title='Reading in the dark'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114602868934035997</id><published>2006-04-26T01:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T01:18:23.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Accountability</title><content type='html'>I skipped yesterday because I didn't have anything too exciting to post.  I almost skipped today for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so I haven't visited a NYC landmark or tried any new fitness classes in the last 2 days.  I took a siesta and caught up on some life maintenance.  I cleaned my apartment, did tons of laundry, and mailed a package of goodies to some kids.  I ran on the treadmill and took a nap during the day.  I finished 2 novels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn.  All of that is well and good, but the reason I created this blog was to hold myself accountable to my mission: to start living like a hedonistic tigress.  This tigress needs to go adventure-hunting so as not to lull the blog to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114602868934035997?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114602868934035997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114602868934035997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114602868934035997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114602868934035997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/accountability.html' title='Accountability'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114585673732784646</id><published>2006-04-24T01:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T01:32:17.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>V</title><content type='html'>I was good and cooked all meals at home today.  For brunch I made a spinach and mushroom quiche, mostly egg white, with a whole wheat crust, topped with broiled tomatoes.  For dinner I had a pan-seared chipotle and lime trout with steamed sugar snap peas.  I'm not sure if I can lose 10 lbs on this fare, but we'll see how the next week goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on a second date with the Aussie, and we saw &lt;a href="http://vforvendetta.warnerbros.com/"&gt;V for Vendetta&lt;/a&gt;.  I loved it, although I was teased for not having seen (or, for that matter, read) 1984.  I guess that worked out well in the end, because I thought of &lt;em&gt;VFV &lt;/em&gt;as irreverent and provocative.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking of provocative, the Aussie is just that.  I've figured out that he seems to want me mostly for sex.  But in between all his sexual innuendoes, he offers some of the most intelligent and articulate conversation I've had in a long time.  I'm still trying to decide if I can be the kind of person who has a fling centered around sex instead of romance.  If I decide to give in, he wouldn't be a bad accomplice.  I suppose there are worse things than an intellectual man with a sexy accent who looks delicious in a long dark coat and an ivory scarf.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114585673732784646?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114585673732784646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114585673732784646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114585673732784646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114585673732784646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/v.html' title='V'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114577187608253577</id><published>2006-04-23T01:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T01:59:05.216-04:00</updated><title type='text'>April showers</title><content type='html'>Another triumphant day in the life of She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Tamed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was miserable today.  Ordinarily I would have stayed in my apartment reading, nibbling snacks, and drinking tea.  But I have committed myself to avoiding the Ordinary.  So I dragged myself into the miserable rain down to the Union Square Barnes &amp; Noble so at least I could read, nibble snacks, and drink tea while watching the rain-drenched park from behind a big pretty window.  It felt nice, and I got some quality reading done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.newyorkphotoblog.com/blog/photos/rain1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.newyorkphotoblog.com/blog/photos/rain1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;align=left&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;&lt;i&gt;This pic is from &lt;a href="http://www.newyorkphotoblog.com/blog/"&gt;New York Photoblog&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/align&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I went on a date.  Recall that I have been in dating dormancy for the past three years.  The guy with the accent, whom I mentioned previously, called me tonight to hang out.  I will henceforth refer to him as Aussie.  I got a kiss and the promise of a second date.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114577187608253577?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114577187608253577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114577187608253577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114577187608253577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114577187608253577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/april-showers.html' title='April showers'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114568213615172200</id><published>2006-04-22T00:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T01:02:16.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moe Ma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2006/images/Munch-Despair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.moma.org/exhibitions/2006/images/Munch-Despair.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After work I decided to throw on my Perfect Black Shirt and jet down to the &lt;a href="http://www.moma.org"&gt;MOMA&lt;/a&gt;.  I'd been lightly flagellating myself ever since the museum re-opened, because every day that passed was another day as a New Yorker who hadn't seen the new MOMA. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got in for free, which may have been because there were only 2 hours until closing time, and I saw the Edvard Munch exhibit.  I prefer going to galleries alone, because the solitude gives me a more transcendental experience.  If I want to stand in front of a painting letting my eyes go in and out of focus until I feel like I'm tumbling into the artist's despair, then I can.  I don't have to answer someone who keeps asking, "So...what do you think about this one?"  My solo flight through the exhibition was a dark and beautiful experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way home I stopped at Barnes &amp; Noble and this older guy started hitting on me.  He told me I looked like a dancer (probably thanks to my Perfect Black Shirt).  He asked for me number, which I had decided not to divulge, and he must have seen it in my face.  Before I said a word, he said, "Wait -- quietly.  I don't need everyone to hear."  If he was trying to guilt-trip me, it worked.  I felt both beautiful and cruel.  But I still couldn't give him my number.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114568213615172200?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114568213615172200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114568213615172200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114568213615172200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114568213615172200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/moe-ma.html' title='Moe Ma'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114559831150844853</id><published>2006-04-21T01:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T01:45:11.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The naked wonton</title><content type='html'>My lifestyle was cramped tonight because I was required to stay close to home, but I did manage to tick a few items off my imaginary To Do list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cooked a demanding dinner. In the nude. That's right, dears -- I drew my curtains, turned on the radio, and made &lt;a href="http://pro.corbis.com/images/42-15804866.jpg?size=67&amp;uid={d89b0018-ff1e-4c09-808d-"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;dinner wearing nothing but a ponytail elastic. And when I say dinner, I mean steamed chicken and ginger wontons from scratch (almost). Here is a vague recipe, which I completely invented tonight:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Naked Wontons&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 lb ground chicken&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 t minced ginger&lt;/em&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.hansonellis.com/favorsengraved/chopstickswood3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.hansonellis.com/favorsengraved/chopstickswood3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;2-3 cloves garlic, minced&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1/2 small onion, minced&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 t soy sauce&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 t rice wine vinegar&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 t sesame oil&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1/3 cup diced mushrooms&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;1 egg, separated&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wonton skins&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Combine filling ingredients with 1 egg yolk and reserve the egg white. Season the filling with salt or what-have-you. Tuck some filling into the center of a wonton skin, then swab egg white on the border. Fold the skin in half to make a triangle, then fold the little arms in with more egg white. Steam for 5 minutes or until the chicken is cooked through. Serve with soy sauce and a side of nudity. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also watched Elizabethtown, which was a lovely little movie. Don't laugh, but I cried a little. Crying at movies is a conscious decision for me, and tonight I felt like crying. Not disastrous choking sobs, but pretty little tears that welled up without running out my nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a very satisfying evening, considering that I was on call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114559831150844853?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114559831150844853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114559831150844853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114559831150844853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114559831150844853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/naked-wonton.html' title='The naked wonton'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114550558615770004</id><published>2006-04-19T23:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T23:59:46.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex + the city</title><content type='html'>After work I jetted out to do some yoga.  But this is no "let's chant and do some stretching" yoga.  My yoga is at &lt;a href="http://www.bikramyoganyc.com/press/nyt_ayogastudio.html"&gt;110 degrees&lt;/a&gt;.  There's nothing like hearing your own sweat dripping onto your bare leg to make you feel alive. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there are other select experiences that, like copious sweating, are life-affirming.  Are you sitting down?  Because tonight I had sex for the first time in, oh, three years.  Not that it was particularly enjoyable sex -- unfortunately that's an unchecked box on my to do list -- but it's a start!  It was safe, and it was with a very handsome European man whom I know and trust.  Little by little I am emerging from my shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I bought &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&amp;isbn=1400032814&amp;amp;itm=1"&gt;Diary&lt;/a&gt; by Chuck Palahniuk.  Ever since my boxing lesson I've been in a Fight Club mood, and I really wanted to hear his words echoing around in my head and urging me onward in my quest to live the ideal life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114550558615770004?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114550558615770004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114550558615770004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114550558615770004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114550558615770004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/sex-city.html' title='Sex + the city'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26448253.post-114542333504121255</id><published>2006-04-19T00:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T01:08:55.053-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of Yes</title><content type='html'>I recently read a blurb about &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbnInquiry.asp?z=y&amp;isbn=1401302300&amp;amp;itm=1"&gt;The Year of Yes &lt;/a&gt;by Maria Headley, in which the author makes a vow to say yes to anyone who asked her on a date for the next year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't read the book, but the premise got me thinking.  I haven't really dated anyone since college because I never say yes to anyone who asks me out.  There are a number of things I want to do before I'm too old, too busy, too sick, or too respectable to do.  Many items on my "To do list for life" are easy to check off but are languishing on my list because I'm procrastinating.  I'm not saying I have a lot of free time.  I work crazy hours, and in my field there is an infinite amount of material to learn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have never competed in a race.  I have never learned to fight.  I have never organized a food drive.  I have never walked to Brooklyn.  I have never been to a movie by myself.  I have never dated an artist, a chef, a doctor, a woman, a guy with an accent, or a celebrity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So welcome to my Year of Yes.  This doesn't just apply to dating -- that's a very small part of my plan.  I'm saying yes to life.  If an opportunity comes up, my knee jerk reaction will be to embrace it.  This blog will keep me honest -- if I start sliding back into my shell, my updates will get boring, and that will be embarrassing for all of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let me share what I've already done:&lt;br /&gt;4/14: Makeover: I bought my first designer outfit and got my first real salon haircut.  No, I'm not 12, just a tomboy who's socially underdeveloped. &lt;br /&gt;4/15: Met a college friend for brunch, then walked all over Tribeca until sunset.&lt;br /&gt;4/16: Went for a run in Central Park.  Then I went to a party and met a guy whom I did not immediately reject.  Hey, baby steps are better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;4/17: Took my first boxing class, at a real boxing gym.  I'm invincible!  Although the first rule of fight club is you do not talk about fight club.&lt;br /&gt;4/18: Went for a mid-day run between clinic and lectures.  Dragged my ass and my books out to a cafe instead of doing homework at home.  I was rewarded by meeting a cute guy with an accent, and I gave him my number (applause, applause).  And I set up a blog.  Woo, let's not get crazy here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To anyone who is socially underdeveloped, losing luster, lonely, bored, predictable, or wasting time, join me.  To anyone who is not taking advantage of their youth, health, social network, social standing, or habitat, snap out of it.  Be more fun.  Just say yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26448253-114542333504121255?l=ophis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/feeds/114542333504121255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26448253&amp;postID=114542333504121255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114542333504121255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26448253/posts/default/114542333504121255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ophis.blogspot.com/2006/04/year-of-yes.html' title='The Year of Yes'/><author><name>Ophis</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06063342292654557590</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
