the great leslie

it's raining again and i have a hole in my sock. the third toe of my left foot is exposed. under my shoe, that is.

there are only ten weeks until the triathlon. which means i should be running EVERYday. but, as often happens, when that morning bell goes off, i just reset it for ten minutes after i should get up for work. before i started working three mornings a week, it was a little easier. or in theory it was. in reality i slept until 2 p.m. everyday.

i just crawled around in the basement and attic of the Jewish Theological Seminary, where decades of dust has accumulated on boxes labeled "cash receipts" and "correspondence." there was an old-school typewriter: a Hebrew typewriter (WICKED cool). there was so much information stored in the upstairs/downstairs areas. and it was in such disarray. it made me want to get my color-coding on. if only that feeling would last when i get to my personal disarray.

yesterday i went to the Whitney with a few friends who were visiting from Philadelphia. themes: elephants, studio space, industrial materials: found and bought. contemporary art is more miss, miss than hit or miss. as my friend pointed out, much of it could be on the wall at a high school art show. but today's artists need support, and one or two of the many will be featured at the Met in a few hundred years, the "best" of what we are seeing now.

in the hall way of the Whitney, which smelled like coffee from the cafe, we heard a man tell a woman: "A palindrome is a sentence that can be read backwards and forwards."