Tools Of Endearment: Pryor Publications

The artistry of woo is always one for invention. But the subtlety of old school novelty has timeless charm for reinvigorating hearts. Like Gossip Girl going 1920s style for an episode, some things are done best as they first were. So yes, one may have visions of being rescued off the steed of a white horse by person perfect, but if it comes on the heels of brogues on a fixie it's hard to find complaint.

Admitting the best way to kick off a new section would be taking on a cue from the past... Here ye here ye as we launch The Swoon Project's Tools of Endearment.

Found first at 826 Valencia, Pryor Publications of Kent offers a series of reprints of classic titles, zine like in style yet featuring the occasional fortune-telling tea cup adverts as well. Conservative and Victorian as they may be, I dare you to find one not charmed by "Love, Courtship, and Marriage, or How To Win A Lover" originally published in 1880. Find equal join in "The Book Of The Kiss" fastened with a red satin bow.

However delivered, handing over "The Complete Letter Writer For Gentlemen" with gladly intended woo, should charm the skinny jean pants off any modern day affection.

LETTER LXVII. From a gentleman to a lady who had rejected his suit. St. Davids,$th May, 18--, Dear Miss Lind, -From the highest pinnacle of hope, I have sunk to the lowest depths of despair. Your rejection of my passion has filled me with indescribable misery and wretchedness. I feel myself, as it were, an isolated being - a lonely wanderer over the face of nature, without one friendly ray of light to guide me on my way. Still, whatever may be my fate, one only thought will be ever uppermost in my breast; and that thought will be on your lovely self. My passion for you is of the nature of quicksilver, which though it runs into a thousand different directions, loses nothing of its strength, and must, at last, unite into one body and return to its first channel, do what you will to separate and disperse it. That you may ever be as happy as I am wretched, shall be the constant prayer of Your ever-attached though disappointed lover, Edward Talbot.

We Even Finish Each Other's Sentences: Emli & Sarah J.

photo by Emli (www.emli.dk)

Name: Emli
Partner: Sarah J
Time together: 18 months
Status: good, thanks
Location: London

1. We're obviously together because there's no I in us

2. This one time it was like there was no one else: every time we stick together - which we do most every day

3. Long after we're gone people will say where's Jenny and Benny?

4. Never in my life did I imagine I would meet someone who doesn't get bored with me

5. Those two again? When will they stop having barbecues long after the sun has given in?

6. Nothings better than a day in the (home) office working side by side with the love of my life

7. I spilt my drink on Sarah's jacket. She was 45 minutes late for our first date. The rest is history.

Name: Sarah J
Partner(s): Emli
Time together: 18 months
Status: Together
Location: London

1. We're obviously together because we both are so wee.

2. This one time it was like there was no one else in the room as we danced in a Parisian bar to The best of the Jackson Five.

3. Long after we're gone people will say I miss Jenny and Benny.

4. Never in my life did I imagine i would find my soul mate.

5. Those two again? When will they stop eating.

6. Nothings better then the Bob Dylan table at banners, my girl, jerk chicken, rice and peas.

7. She had a nervous compulsion to throw her drink on my new white collared shirt and the rest is history.

The Great Date: Highgate Ladies Bathing Pond, Hampstead Heath

In America the game is European or Dyke, for the UK it's German or Dyke.

Treading water under bright sunshine in murky waters of pond perfection the only thing Lisa wondered was which way Madame Butterfly floated. Strong features, a short crop of hair, sun stained freckles, and baby brown eyes, Lisa was attracted at first splash. Caught off guard that the average womyn's festival crowd finally offered out something to write home about. She pierced her eyes with the casualness of an experienced cruiser, nonchalant and naughty, as MB tucked into another lap. On an upswing they caught eyes, Lisa receiving the welcome of smirk which could be weighed and measured for neither side of this Dutch or Dyke conundrum.

Worked out and keeping to herself, MB exited the pond, past the lifeguards talking loudly over last night's drunken misadventures with other pond lifesavers. Without any notice from their bright yellow authoritative peanut gallery, Lisa followed MB into the changing area.

Suit at ankles and an ear water drainage skip move in action, Lisa stumbled upon an MB she still could not class. It's the bane of any cruisers existence, especially when stripped of social identifiers - can the gaydar still survive? Like bees needing honey though, Lisa put her best foot forward. Stepping into the shower room with only cold offerings - it was part pornographic car wash, part butch toughing it out as the chilly water washed the pond scum down the drain.

MB was caught. Suddenly aware she was at a cruising joint, like a lifelong bi guy entering the right steam room finally, MB sauntered to the sink bending to clean her face with the only hot water available. Excusing herself by Lisa touched MBs hips getting a pinky from her attraction on the final pass - one clinch to say thank you. In silence they dressed themselves, the smirking stopped and little smiles escaped from both their mouths.

Leaving steps behind one another, feeling each step of one another as a new tingle up their spine. They exited the woman only space to the requisite wood fenced bike rack. Unlocked transport in hand, MB nodded for Lisa to follow - and without a word or question the two disappeared into the Heath to frolic in nature as neither had intended on this sunny afternoon, pleased as the boy toys on gay beach when the skies are blue.

Documented Proof: I'm no yenta, but I think this is going to work...

Vows: Kate & Kay
By, Devan Cipher for The New York Times

COFFEE was all Kate Adamick had in mind for her blind date with Kay Diaz. So Ms. Adamick did not anticipate proposing marriage. Especially not before their second date. The two women were introduced Feb. 4, 2008, via an e-mail message from their mutual friend, Jim Rogers, the New York State deputy attorney general in the social justice division, for which Ms. Diaz, 45, is a senior trial counsel.

“I’m no yenta, but I think this is going to work,” Ms. Adamick said Mr. Rogers told her in a phone call." It was the first time Ms. Adamick, 47, was fixed up by a straight man, she said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner. Who else would know best what to look for in a woman?”

But she was skeptical. Though she had previously sustained a 12-year relationship, she had been single for more than six years. “I had given up,” she said, and she had decided to focus her emotional energy on her work as a New York-based consultant for school food reform, which uses her experience as a lawyer and a professional chef.

“She pulled two disparate skills together to come up with a unique career,” Ms. Diaz said. “I found that very impressive.” But Ms. Diaz was just six months out of a seven-year relationship and “not looking for anything serious.” Ms. Adamick’s job required her to be in California for most of February, so after the initial introduction, she sent a detailed message, revealing many facts, even including her height and weight. Ms. Diaz was immediately attracted to Ms. Adamick’s forthright nature and her intelligence.

“She knew the difference between ‘that’ and ‘which,’ ” said Ms. Diaz, who acknowledged deriving a seductive pleasure from well-formed sentences. “Lawyers are professional writers. People don’t think of us like that, but we are.”

Ms. Adamick was equally enticed by her return message. In the past, Ms. Adamick had been teased by friends about her “long list” of qualities she was looking for in a mate, including witty banter, athleticism and commitment to social justice. “Kay had everything on my list,” Ms. Adamick said, “except she was a vegetarian." When Ms. Diaz disclosed this particular trait, Ms. Adamick wrote her, “I love animals. Medium rare.”

Ms. Diaz said she laughed out loud. “It was clear she had a quickness about her,” said Ms. Diaz, who also admired Ms. Adamick’s self confidence.

“They are both extremely smart and powerful women who are passionate about their interests,” said Susan Light, a friend of the couple. “To find someone who is not intimidated by that is difficult.”

On Valentine’s Day the women exchanged photographs. “It’s an absolute bonus she is as beautiful as she is,” Ms. Adamick said. They scheduled their first phone call four days later. Lengthy, nightly conversations ensued. “We’re both ranters,” Ms. Adamick said of their three-hour marathons that ran the gamut from political prognostications to romantic reveries.

“If we had been in the same time zone they would have been even longer,” said Ms. Diaz, who spoke of how they began trusting each other with their most private thoughts. “We had this pact that we were not to self-censor.”

But as the clock rolled past midnight on Feb. 22, she found herself doing precisely that. “I wanted to tell her that I loved her,” Ms. Diaz said, “but I was having a conversation in my head that this was insane.” Logic dictated that she could not be in love with someone she had never met, yet she tossed and turned until dawn. Then she sent a message to Ms. Adamick that morning, revealing how she felt.

“I got choked up,” recalled Ms. Adamick, who admitted to having the same feelings and internal conflict. “She’s the one who had the courage to be honest about it.” The next day Ms. Adamick flew back to New York from California. To her surprise, Ms. Diaz was waiting for her at Newark Liberty airport with two dozen roses. The connection was instantaneous. “She dropped the flowers on the ground and kissed me,” Ms. Adamick said. “We were making out in the car like two teenagers,” Ms. Diaz said. By the following morning they were engaged.

“It just came out of my mouth,” Ms. Adamick said of popping the question at her apartment. “I didn’t have time to think if she was going to think I was crazy.” Ms. Diaz didn’t hesitate to say yes, and soon they were eating a breakfast of leftovers cooked by Ms. Adamick, which included scarlet runner beans prepared with bacon. “Her eyes got wide,” Ms. Adamick said. “She’d been a vegetarian for 23 years. I think she loved the beans as much as she loved me.”

Ms. Diaz said she was at first “a little sheepish about telling people” of their love before first sight. But a little more than a year later, on May 8, the couple were legally married by Jeanne Laughlin, a Connecticut justice of the peace, in a conference room at the Stamford Government Center. They exchanged yellow pipe-cleaner rings, saving their engraved gold bands for their public ceremony the next day, when Mr. Rogers — who had introduced them — led them through their vows in the three-story atrium of 632 on Hudson, an event space in a 19th-century New York town house.

“All my life I searched for you, but never thought I’d find you,” Ms. Adamick said. “All my life I dreamed of you, but never dreamed you were real.” Mr. Rogers said, “You may both kiss the bride,” and their 96 friends and family cheered as the couple smiled exuberantly. “My cheeks physically hurt since I’ve known her,” Ms. Diaz said, her radiance undiminished.

But she was troubled. “Part of my identity is being a cynical New Yorker and hard-bitten lawyer,” she said. “By being so happy, am I going to lose my edge?”

Documented Proof: Love In Essex Welsh

We're the real Gavin & Stacey
By Dulcie Pearce for The Sun

SHE’S the down-to-earth Welsh girl who loves her family, and the odd omelette. He’s the wide-boy from Essex who enjoys a beer and having a night out with the lads. Can they ever last?

The second series of cult-hit comedy, Gavin and Stacey, ends on Sunday and viewers are desperate to see if the marriage of the Essex boy from Billericay and Welsh girl from Barry Island will survive. The loved-up couple were hitched within months of knowing each other, but hit a rocky patch as homesick Stacey can't bear to leave her life in the small town of Barry. She moves home, leaving broken-hearted Gavin with his mum and dad in Essex.

On top of that, they have interfering family members and opinionated friends, Nessa and Smithy, to contend with. Here Dulcie Pearce speaks to the real life version of the famous pair to see how the differences between life in rural Wales and suburban Essex affects their relationship.

Traditional Welsh girl, Nikki Latham, from Mumbles, Swansea, has been dating her Essex geezer, Zak Morris, for three years. Although the couple live together in Hornchurch, Essex, Nikki tries to bring a Welsh influence to Zak's life. Nikki, 25, an office administrator, says: "I fill our flat with Welsh flags, daffodils and cook leek soup every St David's Day, which Zak finds hilarious. I've managed to get him hooked on Welsh cakes, but can't tempt him with any Lava bread yet. I think the idea of seaweed puts him off. It's difficult for Zak to understand, but Welsh people are very patriotic and being away from home makes me even more proud of my background. I feel celebrating St David's Day and cooking Welsh food brings me closer to home, as I don't get to go there that often."

Nikki first met Zak when he turned up at her front door to visit one of her male flatmates. They fell for each other instantly, and spent hours chatting. Things quickly developed, but like Gavin and Stacey, they had to conduct a long-distance relationship over the phone between Essex and Wales.

Nikki says: "We spent hours talking, texting and emailing, which made our relationship really strong. It allowed us to know everything about each other, and Zak got to see what my life in Mumbles was like when he visited."

Revenue controller, Zak, 25, says: "I'd never been to Wales before I met Nikki, and couldn't believe how different life in Mumbles was to Essex. It's really quaint, and everyone knows everything about each other. Walking to the local shop can take hours, as whoever you bump into will want to speak to you for ages. Growing up in Essex, I'm used to a busy lifestyle where you get places fast and only chat to your good mates. I can go for a beer on my own in Mumbles, and make new friends within a few minutes. There's a real sense of community, which is endearing. The people know how to have a good time on a night out, and I'm sure the girls in Mumbles won't mind admitting that they can hold their drink. There is a street of pubs called the Mumbles mile, and on a night out you're meant to have a drink in every one. I thought I could hold my drink, but after a few hours on the Mumbles mile I could hardly walk. Nikki was fine though - I was amazed at how she could put the booze away. She's quite petite, but totally drank me under the table."

After nearly two years of dating, the pair decided to move in together choosing to live in Essex. Zak says: "Both our families were really supportive, and the move gave Nikki's dad the chance to use his Sat Nav.

"We both think he's just like Uncle Bryn, with his long jokes and obsession with technology. Whenever I see him, he calls me a 'cockney sparrow' and tries to do an impression of my voice. He's shocked that I laugh so much, but it's because he reminds me of Bryn. Football is not that huge in Wales and Nikki's family didn't support a team. But I'm a huge West Ham fan, and managed to turn them into fans. They now follow the team and watch all the games. It’s great. However, it's not so great being around Nikki's mates when the rugby is on. I'm always getting stick from them, and the Six Nations was agony."

Like Gavin and Stacey, Zak already had a job in Essex when the couple moved in together, but Nikki had to start from scratch. Nikki says: "I know exactly how Stacey felt, getting depressed when she wasn't able to get work. For weeks I spent hours watching Jeremy Kyle, This Morning and Loose Women before even getting out of bed. Not being able to get a job was demoralising and I missed Mumbles terribly. There were several times I contemplated packing my bags, but luckily I found some work before that happened. Zak's friends have become my friends too, and I get on with them really well. When I first met them they made some silly jokes about me being Welsh, doing impressions of my accent and making rubbish cracks about sheep. But as a Welsh girl, I'm used to it. Loads of our friends compare us to Gavin and Stacey, and when we watch it I can see the similarities. Zak and I even have friends who are starting to become very close, which is exciting. We just hope they don't turn out like Nessa and Smithy."

Kiss At The Hotel De Ville?

Though I'm not a fan of making out on the dance floor, and if I'm honest detest cinema canoodling unless that's what the date was meant to be from the start - being thrown back into a dancing dip of affection, or pushed to an alley wall for a kiss is "romantic intrigue" personified for me.

A little downpour onto blushed cheeks as the two of you block every horn blasting or defeated street spitter around you. Occasionally a gasp, once in awhile an "awww" if you're lucky nothing can be heard but the pitter patter of little heartbeats being reunited on cement pedastols. The little irritant of taking a massively audible inhale upon a laugh, the itchy nose, and hair There's Something About Mary out of place fade into oblivion as for thirty seconds your mind is blank as you've kicked into action.

Letting the lust of the moment take us over, and going for one of the lighter primal urges, can make a person feel as if right now right there - nothing could be better. It's going after what you want without the life coach or acting classes. No regrets.

Debatechery: Playmate Movie First Dates?

As discussed in The Swoon Project's Debatechery Podcast #1, Film first dates are a tough call. Here Hef's ex declares her allegiance to one side...

No Movie Dates for Kendra Wilkinson
By Eunice Oh for People Magazine

Her new hubby better take note: Kendra Wilkinson doesn't like movie dates. "I really HATE when a guy thinks its cool to take me to the movies," she says on her blog. "Honestly what's fun about that???? How are u supposed to get to know someone when u cant speak to each other for 2 hours."

Taking the 24-year-old reality TV star – who wed NFL player Hank Baskett in a fairytale ceremony in June – on a first date to the movies isn't the only deal breaker. "He shouldn't act like he thinks he's going to seal the deal as soon as the night is ending," writes Wilkinson. "If he acts cocky about it then that's an immediate turnoff for me hahaha." What would be an ideal first date? "If I'm taken on a hike, or jet skiing, or dirt biking then I'll DEFINITELY be impressed. Anything outdoors is ok with me," she says. "So if a guy wants to see me again, the best way to ensure that is by taking me to do something fun and exciting," she says at the end of the blog post. "Well ... hypothetically speaking that is. I'm a married woman!!!!!! LOL."

Flirting In Fiction: Nous aimons, nous combattons, nous aimons encore. Remercier le ciel.

May I Have A Word With You #5

The Swoon Project needs your vocabulary for the next madlib style story, where proof is made again that the right words, expectations, and trying to fit the part/control the outcome is pointless in the quest for love. Love is about expecting the unexpected, now jump....

email your words to m@madebymordecai.com
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May I Have A Word With You.... #5

your NAME:
your LOCATION:

movement
adjective
smell
body part
noun
verb
noun
body part
number
adjective
political figure
saint
celebrity
number
number
menu item

The Great Love-Inn

Like tall tales, and emotionally unavailables worst nightmares, the idea of the all encompassing love-in can suffer from stigma, expectation, and worry warting damning us all to singularly sleepless nights and a quick morning cuddle. Are we prescribed to say "goodbye" by requisite? It's not all bad if you can't find the G-word on a date is it?

The all weekend, all encompassing love-in, a bank holiday affair, is something to appreciate. I'm not a lesbian ordering a u-haul truck here, just quite aware that some of the best affairs can be a duvet dive for two. Not every swoon has to be of the engaged variety. Swoop in - Swoon - Swoop Out, is a motto to live by. Even coupled the ever lovely reminder that you can indulge and then escape must keep the heart young yes?

So on this bank holiday weekend, take the stopwatch off the cuddle and have a little fun. Fairplay if a stalker is exhumed in the process, and your future becomes slightly shadowed by second guess swooning. But maybe you'll find the path to Tuesday morning an easy one, and going vegan for the weekend since you were at hers won't seem so bad afterall.

Danke! Merci! Toda!

Your patience on this bank holiday buffer from waxing swoontasms is appreciated. y'all come back now, we're here to keep you swooning.

Big Love,

M

Documented Proof: Blue Hill & Broadway - Wooing The First Lady.

Politics Can Wait: The President Has A Date
By, Julie Bosman for the New York Times, Karen Zraick contributed reporting.

The Obamas escaped Washington on Saturday in search of a quintessential New York evening — dinner and a Broadway show.  They found it at Blue Hill, a low-key Greenwich Village restaurant, and at the Belasco Theater near Times Square for a performance of “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone,” the Tony-nominated August Wilson play.

It was the Obamas’ first joint visit to the city as the first couple. And even cooler-than-thou New York allowed itself a bit of excitement over their arrival. “I thought I was dreaming,” said Kecia McCowen, a 45-year-old utility worker and student from Brooklyn; she bought tickets for the show three days ago, but found out that the Obamas would be there only after she arrived. “I was like, stop playing!”

Along Avenue of the Americas, pedestrians stopped to wave, snap pictures and press against metal barricades as the Obamas’ motorcade zipped by.  Times Square was even more frenetic than usual, as throngs of pedestrians — certainly including many tourists — lined several blocks waiting to catch a glimpse of Mr. and Mrs. Obama. The presidential date night began with a late-afternoon flight from Andrews Air Force Base, with Mr. Obama wearing a dark blue suit (no tie), and Mrs. Obama a black cocktail dress and a sleek updo, holding a turquoise clutch.

They landed at Kennedy International Airport at 4:45 p.m. and after taking a quick helicopter ride to Lower Manhattan, the presidential motorcade snaked its way up to Blue Hill, a restaurant off Washington Square Park that specializes in cuisine from the Hudson Valley. (It sounded like the choice of Mrs. Obama, who favors local food.)

Hours before the show began, the Secret Service cordoned off the entire block of 44th Street between Avenue of the Americas and Broadway, where the Belasco is located. Outside the theater, as the actors in the play began to trickle in, one of them, Chad L. Coleman, signed autographs and spoke with reporters, wearing a broad smile and an Obama cap.  “There are no words for it,” he said. “I told people I got two in one: a Broadway debut and the president attending.” Ernie Hudson, one of the show’s stars, insisted that the cast did not have butterflies.  “We’re all very excited,” he said. “You really can’t do anything differently. You always do your best show possible.”

The Obamas arrived at the theater in a black stretch limousine just before 8 p.m., but lines at the metal detectors delayed the show more than 45 minutes.  When the Obamas walked down the aisle to take their seats, “it was utter pandemonium,” said Tim Johnson, who was in the audience, and described a scene of shouting, clapping and a long standing ovation. Meryl Streep sat a few rows in front of the Obamas, said Mr. Johnson, 52. “No one seemed to notice,” he said.

About 11:30 p.m. , the Obamas emerged from the theater. The president waved to a crowd waiting outside, and shook the hand of Police Commissioner Raymond W. Kelly.  The Obamas escaped Washington on Saturday in search of a quintessential New York evening — dinner and a Broadway show.  They found it at Blue Hill, a low-key Greenwich Village restaurant, and at the Belasco Theater near Times Square for a performance of “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone,” the Tony-nominatedAugust Wilson play.

While the Obamas’ visit to New York was considered private, there was some very public criticism of the trip. In a press release that was issued on Saturday afternoon with the headline “Putting on a Show,” the Republican National Committee suggested that the outing was inappropriate and that Mr. Obama was out of touch, especially given the looming bankruptcy of General Motors.

Shortly afterward, a White House press secretary, Josh Earnest, quickly relayed a message to reporters from Mr. Obama.

“I am taking my wife to New York City,” the president said in the statement, “because I promised her during the campaign that I would take her to a Broadway show after it was all finished.”

My Way

The Swoon Project is in transit, be back after the bank holiday.  

Don't be a stranger.

x

Dating Schmating

“I don’t date.”

Exactly what sort of resistance I was up against became abundantly clear on a recent venture out with a new lady. There we were a bottle of wine shared between us indulging in taster plates, staring into one another’s eyes, feeling a slight flush of new intrigue every few moments, and I was being informed my lady of importance for the evening doesn’t date. Never one to mince words I replied, “This is a date.”

We pettily argued about terminology, but like the bi that doesn’t want to be pigeon holed, like the model/actress who doesn’t want to give up her day job we ended up calling a spade a spade. We make out, we’re out to dinner together, and have every intention to wake up with the sun, embraced. Though it may not be “The Great Date” at that moment we were dating.

What did come out in this debate of label qualifiers was that for her a date was only when she wined and dined one, were we to mutually agree on a place to chow down, split the bill, and keep it casual in dress – not a date. Well, I’m not one to miss out on a date.

For me dating, wooing a lady is equivalent to Rooney running laps – we flex our muscles always preparing for the right moment, the right game. I’ll say yes to a date from most anyone because a challenge is always intriguing, surprise is welcome, and butterflies for a new suitor keep me young. Number one reason I will agree to most dates when asked – I am fully capable of walking out on a date.

Recently asked out by a lady I met through drink goggles, I hesitantly but with honest intentions agreed. Fast forward to the evening, I in Carmen San Diego trench, trilby, and three inch heels stand outside one of the myriad of London Bridge tube exits only to have arrive before me a chav meets punk hodge podge with a big goofy smile on her face, quite possibly I may be the best date she’s ever had. Still no book should be judged by it’s cover, though presentation – how you choose to wrap the present as Russell Brand says – does have significant value. We walked to dinner, her plan, and before I could calculate all the wrongs the door to Prêt was being held for me. My retort, “This is not a date.”

(written for the Gay Girl About Town Column in The London Paper)

The Great Date: Rainbow Room

Imagining that this will be the end all, or as I've recently joked the things we do that we know we will til we're 80 - sighing out loud, grunting, eating mushy peas.  Love is timeless they say and if the Rainbow Room could be bottled, I'd feel as Bobby Darin as Rue McClanahan all the days long.  

When Celia, glanced at Michael an through the veil of a hat so 1930's the Top Shop receipt she'd return it with tomorrow felt like a deep secret.  This was the night to be the couple in the movies, be dipped at the final crescendo of big band and laugh like you would for the next fifty years.  Michael had pocketed a plastic bauble in his lapel, wondering if Celia would appreciate the camp of a proposal to be his primary girlfriend over Baked Alaska in front of all of New York City.  The cliches were meant to be initiated up at the Rainbow Room that night, no tchockke too camp, no charleston to embarassing to perform in public, no blush not requisite to the mood.  As the blue flaming desert arrived, no eyes followed it - the hedge fund livers had no interest in watching someone else devour what they soon would, but Celia's lit up.  It was tacky, sugary, and a big production for $12 dessert.  Awestruck by the spectacle, and effort the waitstaff put into getting it up the stairs to their table, she barely noticed Michael going down on one knee.  The Baked Alaska burned, as Celia saw before her a light flickering yellow star ring from her local bodegas coin candy machines.  A tear came to her eye, the blue flames died down, and with only the waitstaff watching for them to be done with it all, she kissed Michael almost dipping him far from the spinning dancefloors centre.  This had the pomp and circumstance they both wanted to be carried away by.

As a child on a couple rare occasions I had the pleasure of stepping on my father's shoes as he danced me around the rotating wood floor of 30 Rock's Rainbow Room.  Yes above "The Today Show", "Saturday Night Live", and Tom Brokaw is a panoramic view of the city, a dance floor that spins, and a big band on all night (now-a-days just Friday & Saturday.)  GE's mothership/NBC Universals North America port of call is headlined by not only one of the most well known spots for romance, but time honored it actually holds up.  You may be around several benefactors retirement parties and a lot of hedge fund money being well spent, but when you're dancing or kissing above their famous baked alaska, having eyes for each other will make it the perfect setting for classic canoodling.  This is old New York romance.

May I Have A Word With You.... #4 Result III

NAME: Paddy
LOCATION: unknown

One minute it was sweaty, next it was pointed, and without warning it was over, really we'd known it was coming - it had been a long 34 2.15s. We'd been talking babies and the fact that though one of us loves to spat the other hates it. I love Le Tigre, and you love Hole, yet saying "goodbye" felt like being stuck between downtown and a cellar. After the 74 night(s) I said I would leave you forever, I actually did. Running into Church Road, I hailed a hearse leaning in to give my address, I was smiling to freedom. Leaning in I said 56 Stephenson Street and paused, I got distracted, only to realize my favorite "Me And Mr. Jones" was pumping from the stereo, driver singing along. A tattered copy of the Bible laid on the ashtray, a thinker, someone to challenge me. Before me I was taking in beauty the cheekbones of a god, the body of Dolly Parton, perfection. And the most striking red vest. My eyes were transfixed, feeling butterflies up my chest. Who was this transparent, wet driver of my dreams? Where I was going became irrelevant, the smell of rug would not deter me, as I hopped in the back. The driver quoting Joan Rivers, as I giggled along. All those days I wasted hoping my recent ex would be sparkly, would beautifully grab all for me, while this whole time I just had to look up, stick my dick out for a ride to find the true love I'd been hoping for. Who needs the taxi.

May I Have A Word With You.... #4 Result II

NAME: Kala

LOCATION: PDX, OR, USA

One minute it was savage, next it was arboreal, and without warning it was over, really we'd known it was coming - it had been a long 28 eras. We'd been talking mirrors and the fact that though one of us loves to scurry the other hates it. I love Kim Deal, and you love Ed Ruscha, yet saying "goodbye" felt like being stuck between parking lot and a greenhouse. After the 2 night(s) I said I would leave you forever, I actually did. Running into Fargo, I hailed a VW thing leaning in to give my address, I was galloping to freedom. Leaning in I said 2 Hallow Ave. and paused, I got distracted, only to realize my favorite "Like A Boy" was pumping from the stereo, driver singing along. A tattered copy of Nausea laid on middle console, a thinker, someone to challenge me. Before me I was taking in beauty the age lines of a god, the body of Beyonce, perfection. And the most striking buff beige unders. My eyes were transfixed, feeling butterflies up my thigh. Who was this sweaty, slippery driver of my dreams? Where I was going became irrelevant, the smell of table would not deter me, as I hopped in the back. The driver quoting Bob Saget, as I giggled along. All those days I wasted hoping my recent ex would be clumsy, would stealthly jump all for me, while this whole time I just had to look up, stick my toe out for a ride to find the true love I'd been hoping for. Who needs the MAX.

Flirting In Fiction: I Blame Coco No. 5

Chanel N°5 as muse for filmmaker Jean-Pierre Jeunet with Audrey Tautou and Travis Davenport.

We Even Finish Each Other's Sentences: Diccon & Helen

Name: Mouse
Partner: MLD
Time together 3 years
Status yeah, about that.
Location Africa, Barcelona, London

1. We're obviously together because we're both married to someone else.

2. This one time it was like there was no one else but the only good pills I've ever had in Ibiza, your face, your eyes, your arms, and the people laughing at us actually because we were so in love.

3. Long after we're gone people will say I think they really loved each other.

4. Never in my life did I imagine I would fall in love with that Diccon. I couldn't breathe without thinking your name for a year.

5. Those two again? When will they stop not getting on with their lives.

6. Nothings better than the ballast that love gives you.

7. The rest is history.
-------------------------
1. We're obviously together because we're a pair of total bitches

2. This one time it was like there was no one else when we were lying in bed with the sunlight streaming in through the curtains, across our bodies.

3. Long after we're gone people will say 'She could have done a lot better'

4. Never in my life did I imagine that the power of love could make you do pretty much anything.

5. Those two again? When will they stop inviting people round to their bourgeois 'food happenings'?

6. Nothing's better than Mouse fur.

7. Take a man, a woman, a desert and 14 years repressed desire and the rest is history.

Documented Proof: Domesticated Divas

HABITATS | EAST VILLAGE: Suppers at Midnight
By Dan Shaw for The New York Times

TWO summers ago, Matt Cavenaugh, 30, and his girlfriend, Jenny Powers, 29, decided that they wanted to live together, but he did not want to move into her $2,500-a-month apartment in the East Village.  “I thought we should find a new place,” said Mr. Cavenaugh, who was renting a fourth-floor walk-up on the Upper West Side. “I wanted a place that would be ours.”  Ms. Powers understood his feelings, but her father did not. “He knew she had a good deal, and he basically said, ‘Are you idiots?’ ” Mr. Cavenaugh said.  Mr. Cavenaugh, who plays Tony in the current Broadway revival of “West Side Story,” agreed to move in as long as they bought some new furniture. 

“For our first home together, I wanted a bed that would be ours,” he said.  “I picked out a perfectly fine mattress,” he said.  But the indefatigable Ms. Powers was not satisfied: “I said to the salesman, ‘Have you shown us everything you have to offer?’ ” Finally, he showed them top-of-the-line Aireloom mattresses (which range in price from $6,000 to $18,000) and they bought a king-size bed that barely fits into their bedroom.  “It’s all natural wool and cotton. It’s what the Reagans slept on,” she said. “It’s what Brad and Jennifer slept on — or maybe Brad and Angelina.”  Mr. Cavenaugh is still reeling from sticker shock. “It’s the most expensive thing in the apartment,” he said. “I’ll sleep well when we are finished paying for it.”

As befits two actors who make their livings from musical theater, they are unreconstructed romantics. “Most of the art on the walls we bought in Cinque Terre, where we got engaged,” Mr. Cavenaugh said, pointing to a series of small paintings on one wall and a large one over the sofa that depict five tiny villages on the Italian Riviera that are known for their hiking trails.

He made Ms. Powers hike through the villages as he looked for a backdrop for a marriage proposal. “It was hot and I wanted to go swimming, but Matt wouldn’t let us,” she said. Mr. Cavenaugh had a diamond ring in his pocket and wasn’t going to let her swim until it was on her finger.  “I was waiting for the perfect vista,” he recalled. He found it on a hillside in Corniglia.

They met at the end of 2005 while doing a benefit performance of “The Secret Garden.” He was immediately smitten, but she was dating another actor. Mr. Cavenaugh, who grew up in Arkansas, is a Southern gentleman and did not pursue Ms. Powers, a Massachusetts native who is a former Miss Illinois, until nine months later when he learned she was free.  “Matt is not your typical man,” Ms. Powers said. “He has no game.”  Mr. Cavenaugh squirms. He does not think a reporter needs to know this. “Babe, you don’t have to tell him I have no game,” he said.  But Ms. Powers explains that it’s his guilelessness that makes him adorable onstage and off: “He is the perfect Tony. He leads with his heart.”

After their first date, she recalled, he told her, “I’m crazy about you.”  Mr. Cavenaugh says that his fiancée is on his mind while he plays Tony. “It’s easy to fall in love each night,” he said.  

Mr. Cavenaugh points out that the two framed photographs on the kitchen wall commemorate important moments in their relationship. “Cafe Habana is where we went for our first date,” he said. “And Pete’s Tavern is where I asked her father for Jenny’s hand.”  The old-time girl-meets-boy musical script they seem to be following means they won’t stay in the East Village forever. “We want to have a house someday,” Ms. Powers said.  Mr. Cavenaugh added cheerfully, “We have dreams of suburbia.”

Flirting In Fiction: Paper Covers Rock Smashes Scissors

I wanna know what love is, I want you to show me...

May I Have A Word With You.... #4 Result I

By, Terri
Location: A London Jewborhood, England, UK

One minute it was bubbly, next it was luscious, and without warning it was over, really we'd known it was coming - it had been a long 11.5 New York minutes. We'd been talking geezers and the fact that though one of us loves to iron the other hates it. I love Pee Wee Herman, and you love Varla Jean Merman, yet saying "goodbye" felt like being stuck between a hot tin roof and between a rock and a hard place. After the 0 night(s) I said I would leave you forever, I actually did. Running into Avenue Gambetta, I hailed a Vespa Piaggio leaning in to give my address, I was vomiting to freedom. Leaning in I said 10 Downing Street and paused, I got distracted, only to realize my favorite "Happy Birthday" was pumping from the stereo, driver singing along. A tattered copy of Memoirs Of A Geisha laid on the back seat - a thinker, someone to challenge me. Before me I was taking in beauty- the dimple of a god, the body of Yves St. Laurent, perfection. And the most striking silver g-string. My eyes were transfixed, feeling butterflies up my ball. Who was this lacklustre, depraved, driver of my dreams? Where I was going became irrelevant, the smell of accoutrement would not deter me, as I hopped in the back. The driver quoting Jay Leno, as I giggled along. All those days I wasted hoping my recent ex would be ribald, would excitedly gush all for me, while this whole time I just had to look up, stick my rectum out for a ride to find the true love I'd been hoping for. Who needs the London Fucking Underground.

Sound It Out: Swoon Project Mix #4

florence and the machine "you've got the love", coconut records "west coast", carla thomas & otis redding "lovey dovey", little joy "brand new start", yeah yeah yeahs "hyperballad"

Quick Glance: Graham & Rudy

Graham & Rudy in their backyard, Los Angeles, California, USA

29th January 2007, together "around one year" or "one year I think", 1 year 5 days

"Trying to look sexy and feeling very much in love ha ha." - Rudy

"Hope I set the timer right." - Graham

photo by: Graham Kolbeins

Documented Proof: In Training

Sound Of Music star Connie Fisher tells how her brief encounter became true love
By FRANCES HARDY for The Daily Mail

[excerpt]

Connie just cannot contain her excitement. She enthuses about an 'instant mutual connection', her 'instinctive feeling' that their relationship was predestined and her 'absolute conviction' that fate had a hand in their meeting.

The story is replete with romance. Here's how it happened. Connie burst into the national consciousness as the winner of BBC1 talent show How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? Thereafter she became the ecstatically reviewed lead in Andrew Lloyd Webber's West End revival of The Sound Of Music.  All of Britain, it seemed, was talking about the pure-voiced soprano with the 'nun-cut' hairdo who was eliciting such a frenzy of approbation from audiences at the London Palladium.  All of Britain, that is, except divorcee Jeremy.

Apparently the Maria mania had by-passed him entirely. So he hadn't a clue who Connie was when their paths first crossed on platform one of Cardiff Central Station in July last year.  She was catching the London train from her family home in Wales to open in the new production and had flopped on to a bench between two men.

'I had my mobile wedged between my ear and my shoulder,' she recalls. 'I was talking to Mum who was saying: "Are you eating enough? You shouldn't be speaking. You should be resting your voice. Have you learnt your lines? I do worry about you - a girl on your own in London."

'Just to shut her up I said: "Mum, I want you to know I've met someone" - I hadn't - and I hung up. 'Then one of the guys sitting next to me said: "Bad day? Mum hassling you?" And I said: "Oh yes, mothers!" We had a little conversation but I wasn't really engaging.  I thought: "The last thing I need is some sleazy guy chatting me up." 'Then I looked round at him and thought: "Wow, he's the most gorgeous man ever." 

He asked me what I did and I said I was an actress and singer. 'He said: "That's a tough business." I told him I was opening in a new show that week, thinking he might come. I dropped so many hints. But he clearly didn't recognise me and he didn't ask my name.'

Then it was time for them to part. Connie explains: 'My train drew in and I looked forward to continuing our conversation - I was already hoping he wasn't married - but he stayed on the platform. He had an off-peak ticket which wasn't valid for my train.

'I toyed with the idea of writing my number in lipstick on the carriage window as we pulled away. But I thought: "He's probably not in the least bit interested in me." 'But I couldn't stop thinking about him. On opening night I told everyone in the dressing room about him. I cast him as this superhero: Train Man. I felt we had a connection. It was weird.

'I'm a great believer in fate, in cosmic ordering. I've been very lucky so I've every reason to believe in it. So when this massive bunch of flowers arrived for me I was hoping it was from Train Man. Then I read the note and it said: "Dear Connie, Break a leg. Hope all goes well tonight, Love Andrew Lloyd Webber."

'On any other night, of course I'd have been supremely grateful. But I was really hoping they'd be from Train Man. Even Alistair came rushing, half-dressed, into my dressing room and asked if they were from Train Man.'

In the event it was three weeks later - when hope was fading - that welcome news arrived. Connie had a phone call from her friend Bryn Terfel, the Welsh opera singer. 'I'd sung with him at the Faenol Festival in Wales and I thought he was calling to ask me to appear again. But he said: "Listen Connie, love, a friend of a friend said he bumped into you on a station platform a few weeks back and wants to take you for a drink. Do you want his number?" 'I rang instantly and said: "Yes! I would like to go out."'

It soon emerged that Jeremy, 40, a commercial sales manager with an international bank, had described the 'lovely' girl he'd met at the station to a work colleague, who - thinking the description rang a bell - located a photo of Connie on his BlackBerry and Jeremy confirmed this was, indeed, the girl. Jeremy discovered that Connie had sung with Terfel. It was then a short step for him to contact the mutual friend - and the opera singer played intermediary.

On our first date Jeremy gave me a tiny model Great Western train. It was in a brown paper package tied up with string. He'd done his research!' says Connie, who often weaves song lyrics into her conversation.

'He's 40 going on 25 really. He's great fun. I don't notice the age gap. Besides, people think I'm older than my years because I read situations very well.'

Jeremy, who has two cats but no kids, is the first man she has dated since the break-up of her five-year relationship with former soldier Neal Williams, with whom she shared a flat in North London.

She declines to elaborate on the reasons, other than to borrow another line from The Sound Of Music: 'My day in the hills has come to an end, I know,' she recites cryptically, adding: 'Some things are best left unsaid.'

Now Jeremy, who lives in Barry Island - the South Wales seaside resort made famous by the hit BBC comedy Gavin And Stacey - finds himself commuting to Connie's place in London and vice versa, like their TV counterparts.  Six months into the relationship Con and Jer (as they call each other) seem besotted.  He accompanies her to our interview, waits patiently for its duration then takes her shopping.

'And I'm taking him to The Ivy for dinner. But it's a secret,' she hisses. Heaven knows how they'll manage when she goes on tour - Thank goodness for railways.

She says she is comforted by the fact he did not know who she was when they first met.

'It makes it easier to trust. You do sometimes question people's reasons for being friends. Jer isn't taken in by the fame thing. He's not interested in walking down the red carpet.'

So the people's Maria - that freshfaced girl with the tomboy hair and toothy grin - has matured into sassy Connie with the tousled titian crop. Her smile has been subtly transformed by artful dentistry, her voice has dropped into a lower, sexier register and her style has acquired an edge of sophistication.

'I'm still quite wholesome - like Ryvita!' she says. 'I'm a healthy alternative to Amy Winehouse.'

Will her star flicker and fade? I don't think so. Connie Fisher has a talent for reinvention, a capacity to survive the knocks - and a voice that can transform from heavenly to sensual in a cadence.