Observed
This morning I got an email that I am gracing the pages of the New York Observer.
The picture is of me and Lauren Davis at the Museum shin dig on Monday.
I think it just might be the queeniest picture of me ever. It doesnt help that the quote is 'Cator Sparks and Lauren Davis camp it up'.
All those perfectly poised twirls and dips and the one picture they use is the one where I look like a coked up cazoo. Of course Lauren looks refined and elegant and gay. She has too much experience in the papers to dance like a wild woman.
Now I know why all the socialites have the same poses when they dance, because those poses are fool proof. That perfect one arm in the air, the other jazzily snapping with eyes turned to the floor all pulled together with a subtle smile. The image makes one think she is in her own little world, feeling the beat of the music while recalling last nights romantic interlude.
Not only did the image in the paper make my heart skip a beat but the fact that someone at the Observer had time to google me and find this blog really cured my hangover (well almost). Now if I had known they would be publishing my work I certainly would of given kudos to Rod Keenan for the 'spring straw hat', but everyone I imagined who would be reading this knows I only wear Rod's hats.
Note to self: Learn how to dance like a socialite and write the way you dress- always assuming you will be in the press.
The picture is of me and Lauren Davis at the Museum shin dig on Monday.
I think it just might be the queeniest picture of me ever. It doesnt help that the quote is 'Cator Sparks and Lauren Davis camp it up'.
All those perfectly poised twirls and dips and the one picture they use is the one where I look like a coked up cazoo. Of course Lauren looks refined and elegant and gay. She has too much experience in the papers to dance like a wild woman.
Now I know why all the socialites have the same poses when they dance, because those poses are fool proof. That perfect one arm in the air, the other jazzily snapping with eyes turned to the floor all pulled together with a subtle smile. The image makes one think she is in her own little world, feeling the beat of the music while recalling last nights romantic interlude.
Not only did the image in the paper make my heart skip a beat but the fact that someone at the Observer had time to google me and find this blog really cured my hangover (well almost). Now if I had known they would be publishing my work I certainly would of given kudos to Rod Keenan for the 'spring straw hat', but everyone I imagined who would be reading this knows I only wear Rod's hats.
Note to self: Learn how to dance like a socialite and write the way you dress- always assuming you will be in the press.