Happy Anniversary, Financial Crisis!
To help celebrate this historic event, I read Paul Krugman's article from last week's New York Times Magazine, Also, Brian and I saw American Casino.

Frankly, I am still confused as to what happened and how it happened, but it sounds a bit like most people seemed to think, given the choice, Americans would choose to act justly and do good. But, in actuality, everyone up and down the ladder was cheating or fudging or lying or stealing, thinking everyone else was acting justly and doing good. The economy became so top-heavy with graft that it collapsed, and the people left holding the bag were not the ones still getting bonuses that are bigger than my life on this planet is worth.

After the movie, Brian and I headed to the restroom. We were at the Film Forum, which is notorious for having longer men's bathroom lines than women's. Only, this day it was reversed. As Brian was sauntering into the men's room and I was stuck on line, I made a point of noting my frustration at this bathroom reversal

The woman behind me in line said, "The line to the ladies' room is always longer than the line to the men's."

I said, "I know. But not here. Here, the men's room usually has the longer line. It's weird. But I love it."

There was a pause, and then the woman said, "You just came from seeing American Casino?"

When I said yes, she said, "Such a shame. It's just incredible." There was another pause, and then she leaned in confidentially and said, "You know, those big banks and insurance companies gave three times as much money to the Obama campaign as to McCain."

She nodded and lifted an eyebrow, and then I knew I was standing in front of a conspiratorial crazy. I looked around to see who else could hear this woman. I had no desire to get into an argument, but I really didn't want the other ladies in line to think I was a Republican.

If I could have, I would have pretended to see someone I knew way on the other side of the room. Then I would have run after them, right out of the line, away from this woman. But I needed to remain in line. So, instead, I just looked at my fingernails and pretended to be somewhere else.

I should have been a spy. Or, at least, a secret shopper.

My nephew is insanely adorable.
Click on the image below to see pictures from the bris.

This morning Brian discovered he had a new text message. It had been sent at 2:16 am from an unknown number. The message went like this:

Um. I forget how ugly ypu were. Had the bartender call for you.

We liked this message especially, because we imagined that maybe the message writer was trying to make a below-the-belt dis, but the intended message receiver may have given the sender a fake number, which was actually Brian's. Brian just wrote back, "Who are you?" No response yet.

The other day, Brian and I were walking to the subway together. We had just left the apartment and were halfway down the street. I was talking and Brian was blackberrying. All of a sudden I heard a sticky-sucking noise, like I had just stepped in gum. I said, "I think I just stepped in gum." Brian didn't look up.

I said, "Pay attention to me! I said I think I just stepped in gum."

Brian looked over, half-defensive, half-annoyed. But then his expression changed. He said, "Oh, babes. Your shoe."

I looked down. I had walked right out of my shoe's plastic sole. And I hadn't even noticed. I might have gotten all the way to the subway on one and a half shoes.

Well, they were a little long in the tooth. Such shoe problems I've been having lately.

Today, Brian and I stopped by the Brooklyn Book Fair to say hi to the nice people at Gulf Coast, and to photograph me holding up a poster for their upcoming fall issue. Can you spot the Deborah Schwartz?

Jenny appears to be back in action. Yea!