oh, just another typical evening in manhattan…let’s see…

…attended a free seminar at B&H… The speaker was absolutely horrible and if I heard one more “cool” in his presentation I would’ve thrown something at him. No one knows how to present information these days. Typical. (But not so typical for the presenters at B&H to suck.)

…found a to die for inexpensive touch screen digital photo album at B&H… Looks like a small diary and very light weight. Red is a great choice from the numerous color selections, especially if you’re trying to find something in my purse. Sooooo typical.

…photographed end of summer flowers (ok, dead ones) on the High Line. Very typical. When is it not fun on the High Line and especially with camera in hand?

…attended a reception at Agora Gallery for the Chelsea International Fine Art Competition Exhibition. Very typical. So much talent in this city and the receptions are always packed with delightful people. Still thinking about the work of photographer Alfredo de Matteis.

…ate a scrumptous dinner at The Half King in Chelsea. Pleasantly typical. Every time I’ve eaten at this restaurant the food and service have been excellent. (Note: I must ♥ this place in a separate blog post.) Great people watching and fun meeting a bunch of Albanians on a girls’ night out!

…found myself at a chulent in midtown, manhattan. Ok people, NOT TYPICAL! (Finally getting to what this blog post is really all about.) After being educated by a couple of Orthodox Jews in attendance, I s-l-o-w-l-y started to get the meaning of a chulent gathering. For those of you that don’t know, and trust me I DID NOT, it’s an informal weekly gathering for Orthodox Jews who often find themselves drifting from their faith or perhaps question aspects of their religion. (Disclaimer: This may not be the gospel. So please don’t hold me to it.)

Plus, the organizer brings a huge pot of chulent (get it? Chulent gathering?) for everyone to eat. Again clueless, but it has lots of beans, looks like stew and a couple of men told me it would grow hair on my chest. No I didn’t try it. I hate beans, plus who wants more hair to pluck? A few bottles of vodka sprinkled around the table, plus a waft or two of herb, surely coming in from a passerbyer. Surely. Some yiddish (?) songs were sung, a speaker talked to the group about his failed marriage because of his sexual needs (?) and the attendees ranged from local professionals, hipsters, misfits, you name it. Including ME. I understand the event can last until the wee hours of the morning. Bottom line? I just can’t wait to go back to another chulent!

So there you have it. A typical evening in Manhattan.

P.S. Irene continues to head my way. Stay tuned!

P.S.S. So screwed for a flight out to New Delhi on Sunday night. Stay tuned!