Adieu to Anonymity?

People have been beseeching me to post more, so I shall, if only to entertain my friends and friends-of-friends while they work. A strange thing happened the other night, though it should be duly noted that most of my social life seems to be tinged with a bit of oddity, probably not such unusual territory for a single person living in Manhattan. Thursday night I am having drinks at my neighborhood Italian joint when I am approached by a girl, who says that she recognizes me from the photos on this here blog thingamajig. As it turns out, she is actually a friend of my aforementioned blogger buddy, whom I have never met in real time or space. This girl got to my blog via his, and apparently recognized me from the pictures posted here. I have to say that I was a bit taken aback, though this girl was perfectly nice and we both found humor in the situation, as cyberspace provided the venue for the introduction. Now, I'm new to this blog thing, but, from what I hear, it's not that uncommon for bloggers to meet one another in such a fashion. But, needless to say, I'm not exactly used to being "recognized" from my photos or my writing or anything like that. After my book made the papers and I caused a bit of a scandal amongst media types, I would get the occassional, "Oh, you're that girl" comment, but that was only after I'd recited my now mundane story. And frankly, I was really not aware that people I do not know are actually reading my drivel. So now I suppose I have some obligation to keep things interesting, because the last thing I want is to be responsible for other people's wasted time. Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Amy, and I'm sure that since many or most of the readers of this site are members of the tribe and probably reside on the UES or in the surrounding city blocks, this will not be the last of such encounters. The cliche is so true—we really do all know each other. So I especially encourage the single, male, Jewish and nice—they have to be nice—readers to say hi to my friends and I when we are out;)
On another note, the daughter of one of my folks' college friends made the NYT wedding section today and my parents wondered why she and her husband were of note. My first response was, "Did she go to an Ivy school?" The answer, was, natch, yes. And second, "Was she married at a notable venue?" Why, yes, it just so happens that she was married at The Breakers. An Ivy school, prestigious parents or a chic wedding location are, as far as I can tell, the only formula for making it into the Times' wedding section. I really hate the Times' pseudo-intellectualism and ridiculous elitism, when, really, newspapers are meant to be consumed by the masses. Also, in journalism school, we are taught that newspaper writers should gear their stories toward an 8th-grade audience, and that said stories should be easy enough for such an age group to understand. Do eighth graders care that she went to Penn? I have an irrational hatred of the Times and I really have no explanation for it, aside from the fact that I just think it's overrated, plain and simple. I'll take The Observer any day. Paige Kahn and Jeffrey Perkins I do, of course, read the Styles section fairly religiously, but that's the only one, I swear, and the stories contained within it are usually about six months behind the trend anyway.