6 posts tagged “ilya”
(Thanks to Chuck for the amazing photos from the day.)
The crowd was LOVIN' it.
Why do I love this party so?
( These photos are courtesy of Naheed, photographer extraordinaire, and super VIP for the day as wife to the DJ.)
My favorite party of the year's been reinstated—Warm Up at PS 1 in Long Island City—and I attended opening day yesterday as a guest of ilya's friend Dex, a DJ for the Detroit collective Underground Resistance. An amazing array of New Yorkers come out every year for this daytime dance party, people-watching extravaganza. Pics to come!
Also, for giggles, I really must re-direct to my favorite blog of the moment, Things Younger Than McCain. One of the newest entries: 5 out of the 9 U.S. Supreme Court Justices—although as the author points out, that means that FOUR of them are older than McCain. I'm really not sure which is more disturbing.
Food for thought, on this, the birthday weekend of our great country.
For folks who are interested, here's a link to a small album from our trip to Detroit.
Highlights include: Russian dinner-dancing spot, Perchikovsky-Filanovsky Memorial Day barbecue, Coney Island hot dogs in downtown Detroit, and a visit to some of ilya's nearest and dearest friends.
Happy weekend all.
We have all seen by now the New York Times article on compatibility of literary taste between you and your significant other, yes?
I read this article aloud to my beau the other night and we had a good chuckle, because recently we had a big disagreement about that damned Elizabeth Gilbert book, Eat, Pray, Love. I refuse to read it. From the excerpts I've seen, I found it to be self-congratulatory, and indulgent. That kind of first-person, chummy, flip tone of a narrator when they are trying to relate to you, the reader, makes me feel nauseous.
But Ilya read it for his book club, and loved it. He mistakenly thought I would, too. I don't know why I feel such righteous indignation about this particular book, but perhaps it is because it represents the worst of all chick books. It's a non-fiction personal narrative about finding spirituality, and [ugh this is so cliché] in India. I've been to India. The only people who go to ashrams in the country...are Westerners.
Maybe I haven't given the book enough of a chance. After all, Ilya found inspiration in it. But this is all to say that he and I still like each other, a lot, despite our massive difference in opinion over this book. So, this was our favorite line from the Times piece:
"Some people just prefer to compartmentalize. 'As a writer, the last thing I want in my personal life is somebody who is overly focused on the whole literary world in general,' said Ariel Levy, the author of 'Female Chauvinist Pigs' and a contributing writer at The New Yorker. Her partner, a green-building consultant, 'doesn’t like to read,' Levy said. When she wants to talk about books, she goes to her book group. Compatibility in reading taste is a 'luxury' and kind of irrelevant, Levy said. The goal, she added, is 'to find somebody where your perversions match and who you can stand.'"
Amen, sistah.
