New York has been full of fancy surprises. First, I found out that my next door neighbor directed the latest Animal Collective video. Then, I found out that a month ago when something was being filmed in my building and I was just grateful to be able to get into the building without unlocking the heavy front door—it was propped open so all the film people could scurry in and out, over and over—well, I should have been more curious! Because last week my neighbor told me it was a movie by that ‘old guy with the really dry sense of humor. You know…he’s Jewish…I can’t think of his name’ (direct quote). That’s right. A Woody Allen movie filmed down the hall from me, and I missed the opportunity to become his next muse. I could have been discovered while taking out the compost, and wouldn’t that make a good opening line in Vogue? ‘Rotten tomatoes usually mean the end of an acting career, not the beginning; but kristy so-and-so has always done things a little differently…’
Oh well! I did get to have dinner with friends on top of a building in the West Village that may or may not be the home of Sarah Jessica Parker. I am never fact-checking this story, for obvious reasons, but I can tell you definitively that the view was beautiful, and there were fireworks in the distance, and Devin and I made my favorite soup for the occasion. Yes, soup in August. It’s been brisk ever since we got back from our honeymoon, and I am slowly letting go of my dream to go swimming just one more time before September.