Category: Brooklyn


December 27th, 2010 — 5:23pm

If you’re looking for a festive way to ring in 2011 without breaking the bank, you might want to check out the Bootleggers’ Ball.

Hosted by offbeat social group Gemini N Scorpio, the speakeasy-themed event kicks off at 8pm on New Year’s Eve. It will take place at Brooklyn’s Irondale Performing Arts Center, located inside a 19th century church with soaring ceilings, stained glass windows and wraparound balcony.
 
“Expect the intimacy of a daring cabaret mixed with the intrigue of a vintage costumed ball, expansiveness of a warehouse dance party, excitement of live brass, a splash of fine cocktails, and just a dash of illicit adventure and unpredictable moments,” reads the event’s Facebook description.

The lineup of entertainment ranges from Dixieland steamboat soul and Circus-gypsy parlor-jazz to aerial stunts and Tarot/numerology readings. Dress code for the costumed event?

“Depression glamour, evening ball on the Titanic, hobo formal, desperation derring-do.”

Custom vintage-themed buttons to VIPs/first 75 guests by Bad Buttons. Free Champagne for the first hour and show kicks off at 9pm with silent shorts curated by the Boston Underground Film Festival.

A $35 presale for the Bootleggers’ Ball runs through today. Tickets will then be $40 or (if available) $50 at the door. for more info.

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June 24th, 2010 — 3:40pm

Saturday night, I headed down to NYC’s South Street Seaport for my date with Sandy.

A fellow public relations veteran, Sandy, 36, got in touch after reading about my dating blitz in the . He planned a great evening for us that began with a one-hour New York Water Taxi cruise around Manhattan.

Lady Liberty: NY Water Taxi’s cruise parks right in front of her

As we took in the glorious sunset views, Sandy and I talked about our similar career paths, our affection for live music and our disdain for the ups and downs of dating in New York.

Sandy mentioned a frustration I heard from several men on my dating blitz — that women tend to shy away from nice guys and don’t give them a chance. A Brooklyn native, he also confirmed my theory that settling down is more of a priority for men outside of Manhattan. He told me most of his friends are married or want to be.

After the cruise and a delicious dinner with Sandy at Mexican restaurant Red, I put in an appearance at my friend and former colleague Marisa’s going away party.

Catching Up: Marisa and me

Bound for DC to pursue her dream of working in green PR and be with her long-time boyfriend, Marisa was one of my favorite co-workers — a beautiful person inside and out.

During the party, I chatted with two of her friends — Ohio native Lexi and adorable Bostoner-turned-NYC banker Bob. We eventually got onto the subject of Cleveland (Bob lived there for four years) and what a great, friendly city it is.

I will always have great affection for The Cle. As I discovered during my blitz, there’s no city more welcoming to singles. Just ask the ladies from TV Land’s .

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January 29th, 2010 — 5:51pm

Wednesday night, my good friend Caroline and I headed out to Brooklyn for an evening of fun and fabulous food at our Quinn & Co. galpal Morgan’s abode.

Girls Night In: Caroline, me and Morgan

Nestled in the hipster hamlet of Williamsburg, the apartment that Morgan shares with France-born hubby Arthur is a perfect reflection of them — chic, inviting and warm.

One of the most well-matched, likeable couples you could ever hope to meet, Morgan and Arthur treated us and a handful of friends to a scrumptious homemade meal that included two kinds of quiche, chocolate pie and, bien sur, plenty of wine and cheese. It’s no accident that the French are renowned for their hospitality.

Joined by Morgan’s lovely galpals Prune and Judith, we toasted with a round of cosmos before settling in for the evening’s main event — a “Sex And The City” marathon.

Cheers: (from left to right) Judith, Morgan, Prune, me and Caroline

The men played cards as we curled up with season one of SATC which, outdated hair and fashion notwithstanding, holds up surprisingly well a decade later. Or maybe it’s just, now that I’m a mid-thirtysomething single, I relate to Carrie & Co. on a more visceral level than I used to.

Whatever the case may be, one thing’s for sure. Like a pitcher of cosmos, laughter and good food are infinitely more enjoyable when experienced with your girlfriends.

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January 29th, 2010 — 12:51pm

Wednesday night, my good friend Caroline and I headed out to Brooklyn for an evening of fun and fabulous food at our Quinn & Co. galpal Morgan’s abode.

Girls Night In: Caroline, me and Morgan

Nestled in the hipster hamlet of Williamsburg, the apartment that Morgan shares with France-born hubby Arthur is a perfect reflection of them — chic, inviting and warm.

One of the most well-matched, likeable couples you could ever hope to meet, Morgan and Arthur treated us and a handful of friends to a scrumptious homemade meal that included two kinds of quiche, chocolate pie and, bien sur, plenty of wine and cheese. It’s no accident that the French are renowned for their hospitality.

Joined by Morgan’s lovely galpals Prune and Judith, we toasted with a round of cosmos before settling in for the evening’s main event — a “Sex And The City” marathon.

Cheers: (from left to right) Judith, Morgan, Prune, me and Caroline

The men played cards as we curled up with season one of SATC which, outdated hair and fashion notwithstanding, holds up surprisingly well a decade later. Or maybe it’s just, now that I’m a mid-thirtysomething single, I relate to Carrie & Co. on a more visceral level than I used to.

Whatever the case may be, one thing’s for sure. Like a pitcher of cosmos, laughter and good food are infinitely more enjoyable when experienced with your girlfriends.

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January 9th, 2010 — 9:35pm
2009 was a good year for celebrity sightings, and it looks like this year will be no different. Today, I had the pleasure of meeting Jimmy Smits after his performance in the Broadway hit, “God of Carnage.”

Hello Again: Jimmy Smits and me after the show

It was my second encounter with the tall and charming actor — the first being almost fifteen years ago on the set of “NYPD Blue.”

On Location: Jimmy, me and co-star Kim Delaney during a shoot for “NYPD Blue,” August 1995

At the time, we chatted about Jimmy’s lingering affection for his hometown of Brooklyn and I was impressed by how soft spoken and down to earth he was. He smiled today when I mentioned meeting him then, instantly recalling that particular shoot at the borough’s legendary River Café.

“You haven’t aged a bit,” I told him.

“I don’t know about that,” he said graciously. “Nice to see you again, thanks for coming out.”

Sigh. A decade and a half later, Mr. Smits is still a charmer.

Up next… a review of “God Of Carnage.”

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January 9th, 2010 — 4:35pm
2009 was a good year for celebrity sightings, and it looks like this year will be no different. Today, I had the pleasure of meeting Jimmy Smits after his performance in the Broadway hit, “God of Carnage.”

Hello Again: Jimmy Smits and me after the show

It was my second encounter with the tall and charming actor — the first being almost fifteen years ago on the set of “NYPD Blue.”

On Location: Jimmy, me and co-star Kim Delaney during a shoot for “NYPD Blue,” August 1995

At the time, we chatted about Jimmy’s lingering affection for his hometown of Brooklyn and I was impressed by how soft spoken and down to earth he was. He smiled today when I mentioned meeting him then, instantly recalling that particular shoot at the borough’s legendary River Café.

“You haven’t aged a bit,” I told him.

“I don’t know about that,” he said graciously. “Nice to see you again, thanks for coming out.”

Sigh. A decade and a half later, Mr. Smits is still a charmer.

Up next… a review of “God Of Carnage.”

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September 10th, 2009 — 2:00pm

When you’re a thirtysomething single and you encounter women who’ve found their lifetime partner, you invariably find yourself asking – how did you meet him? After a recent exchange of this kind, I couldn’t help thinking about the unexpected ways in which someone special can cross your path.

While attending a chick lit lecture the other night, married gal Marissa and newly-engaged Wendy filled me in about their respective roads to happily ever after. Marissa met her hubby in a Brooklyn bar, only to discover later that they lived just four blocks from each other. Wendy, meanwhile, got lucky at a singles boat party she grudgingly attended at the insistence of her friends.

Their stories reminded me that, statistical probability be damned, you never know when chemistry will ignite. This weekend, I’m going on a date with Ali, the friend of a friend’s new husband. We met at the newlyweds’ moving-to-the-burbs party, where a romantic prospect was the last thing I expected to find.

That’s the thing about being unattached in New York. Thanks to the element of surprise, the next adventure is always right around the corner.

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September 10th, 2009 — 9:00am

When you’re a thirtysomething single and you encounter women who’ve found their lifetime partner, you invariably find yourself asking – how did you meet him? After a recent exchange of this kind, I couldn’t help thinking about the unexpected ways in which someone special can cross your path.

While attending a chick lit lecture the other night, married gal Marissa and newly-engaged Wendy filled me in about their respective roads to happily ever after. Marissa met her hubby in a Brooklyn bar, only to discover later that they lived just four blocks from each other. Wendy, meanwhile, got lucky at a singles boat party she grudgingly attended at the insistence of her friends.

Their stories reminded me that, statistical probability be damned, you never know when chemistry will ignite. This weekend, I’m going on a date with Ali, the friend of a friend’s new husband. We met at the newlyweds’ moving-to-the-burbs party, where a romantic prospect was the last thing I expected to find.

That’s the thing about being unattached in New York. Thanks to the element of surprise, the next adventure is always right around the corner.

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July 12th, 2008 — 2:24am

As a Manhattan resident, it’s not uncommon to be Big Apple-centric and rarely venture out to the other four boroughs. It was with great anticipation, then, that I journeyed to Brooklyn last night.

With my good friends Sara and Leila in tow, I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge for the very first time. Apart from narrowly avoiding a collision with bicyclists racing by in the adjacent lane, the mile-long trek lived up to my expectations and then some. Panoramic views of the New York skyline…couples, families and joggers taking advantage of perfect low-humidity 75-degree weather…and a look at this summer’s much-discussed Waterfalls installation.

Upon arriving in Brooklyn Heights, we reverted from resident to tourist mode, trying to get our bearings with the help of directions printed out on MapQuest. Though legendary pizza purveyor Grimaldi’s was our intended destination, the inevitable long line landed us down the street instead, at Pete’s near the waterfront.

Over some tasty and reasonably priced pasta ($36 per person for drink, appetizer and entrée), the three of us covered a lot of ground–a long-awaited promotion finally becoming official, ideal long weekend destinations (New Orleans and Savannah among them) and the often-complicated nature of sibling relationships. Sometimes, female bonding is more straightforward when you don’t share the same DNA.

The three of us shared a desire for dessert and our charming waiter–living up to the restaurant’s tagline, “four generations of service” — gamely attempted to entice us into having it at Pete’s. I almost caved when he mentioned my Achilles sweet spot TiramiSu but resisted, knowing a different kind of homemade pleasure awaited us at The Blue Pig. Renowned for its ice cream, The Blue Pig delighted me just as much with the portion sizes— runt, piglet, piggy and hog. Though I ordered a runt-sized cherry vanilla shake, I left feeling more like a piggy.

After a stroll along the promenade and one last sweeping glimpse of the illuminated NYC skyline, we jumped on the 2/3 train back to Manhattan. Who says you need to stray farther than a neighboring zip code to go on a memorable trip?

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July 11th, 2008 — 9:24pm

As a Manhattan resident, it’s not uncommon to be Big Apple-centric and rarely venture out to the other four boroughs. It was with great anticipation, then, that I journeyed to Brooklyn last night.

With my good friends Sara and Leila in tow, I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge for the very first time. Apart from narrowly avoiding a collision with bicyclists racing by in the adjacent lane, the mile-long trek lived up to my expectations and then some. Panoramic views of the New York skyline…couples, families and joggers taking advantage of perfect low-humidity 75-degree weather…and a look at this summer’s much-discussed Waterfalls installation.

Upon arriving in Brooklyn Heights, we reverted from resident to tourist mode, trying to get our bearings with the help of directions printed out on MapQuest. Though legendary pizza purveyor Grimaldi’s was our intended destination, the inevitable long line landed us down the street instead, at Pete’s near the waterfront.

Over some tasty and reasonably priced pasta ($36 per person for drink, appetizer and entrée), the three of us covered a lot of ground–a long-awaited promotion finally becoming official, ideal long weekend destinations (New Orleans and Savannah among them) and the often-complicated nature of sibling relationships. Sometimes, female bonding is more straightforward when you don’t share the same DNA.

The three of us shared a desire for dessert and our charming waiter–living up to the restaurant’s tagline, “four generations of service” — gamely attempted to entice us into having it at Pete’s. I almost caved when he mentioned my Achilles sweet spot TiramiSu but resisted, knowing a different kind of homemade pleasure awaited us at The Blue Pig. Renowned for its ice cream, The Blue Pig delighted me just as much with the portion sizes— runt, piglet, piggy and hog. Though I ordered a runt-sized cherry vanilla shake, I left feeling more like a piggy.

After a stroll along the promenade and one last sweeping glimpse of the illuminated NYC skyline, we jumped on the 2/3 train back to Manhattan. Who says you need to stray farther than a neighboring zip code to go on a memorable trip?

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