cooking in my underwear

,,and if Tropfest NY isn't enough for you, here's a supermoon to push things over the top! Whenever I hear the phrase 'film festival', my mind is filled with thoughts of highly intellectual and esoteric cinema that can only be appreciated by people who use the word 'cinema' on a regular basis.  But my personal movie preference leans toward presentations that involve any combination of gunfire, aliens, explosions and shirtless heartthrobs. So when I registered to attend the free Tropfest NY short film festival it was only due in part to my curiosity about the actual films. My main incentive was the opportunity to see Liev Schreiber (this year's host) in the flesh. With low expectations, and a burning desire to take advantage of a rare sunny day, I packed up a little picnic and headed to Prospect Park with my sweetie to check out some film (and Liev Schreiber). Because I had an early-morning commitment, we were only able to stay for the fi...

I feel rather envious of the people who never come to the realization that nostalgia can be a dangerous thing. For most of my childhood, mid-year school holidays involved endless hours spent on my bicycle (a purple Chopper with orange lettering, a banana seat, basket AND tassels) zipping back and forth on the 4-block stretch that was my street.  Being profoundly chicken-hearted even back then, I rarely ventured beyond the confines of that quiet strip, and I look back in amazement at how I was able to while away so much time in so small a place.  I remember the warm sun on my shoulders, and the wind whipping through my hair, and having not a care in the world. So, when the long-awaited Citibike scheme finally came to fruition in New York, I was among the very first to sign up, eager to relive those carefree days of my childhood.  Last weekend, I had my first opportunity to hop on one of these blue behemoths, and let's just say things didn't go quite as planned. I...