happening

So here we are.

Holy cow. These are exciting times. I mean it. 

I don’t want to sound conceited, but you wouldn’t believe how full my email inbox is. Not with boring old messages from friends. Not with silly old job offers or invitations to dreary galas and assorted springtime soirees. No, this is really amazing stuff. Big, big news.

dreams and candy

So here we are.

From the time you’re a wee peanut, you’re aware of your dreams and all of the lovely things you hope will come true in life. As you grow up, you’re encouraged to follow your dreams, and you attach your heart to successful mentors who stand at lecterns and assert that with hard work and a little luck, your dreams can come true. 

However, there are not-so-lovely things that no one tells you about dreams, mostly because it would make the worst graduation speech ever. But since I’m a person who insists that inspirational graduation speeches from successful people are boring and often unmemorable (as I implied in 2011’s “pomp”), let’s lift the veil and expose some truth… just in time for the start of commencement season. 

twitter psa

So here we are.

It has been exactly two months since I joined Twitter under my actual name. I have learned much in this time, and since I work a lot in educational television I feel that it is my responsibility to pass on some of that learning to my devoted dozens. Also, just in case I ever do anything bad, maybe this can act as pre-emptive community service, since I don’t think I can pull off the orange-vest look. So, here now is a public service announcement...

HOW TO ENSURE THAT YOU WILL NEVER SEND OUT AN EMBARRASSING, INFLAMMATORY, OR INSULTING TWEET THAT WILL HAUNT YOU FOREVER:

fancy yokel

So here we are.

Last week, I had a slightly awkward situation: My Pittsburgh was showing.

There we were, husband and I, at the swank-tastic Café Carlyle to see Paul Williams, legend and pal. Fancy nights like these are somewhat rare for us. It’s not that we’re hermits; we’re simply humble… not to mention that there are certain factors that play into whether or not we find ourselves where the elite meet to eat (or alternately, where the refined combine to dine). But when the stars align -- seats are available/schedule is free/nothing good is on TV -- and we find ourselves with the appropriate disposable income, it’s a treat to play dress-up and play the Manhattanites that our zip code suggests we should be.

miss

So here we are.

Here are some things that I miss: