Russell Crowe is Pure Sex

“I have one closet, and things were overflowing, so I started putting shoes in the fridge,” says the fashionable 26-year-old, whose wardrobe is heavy on the black and consists mostly of skinny jeans and blazers.

The kitchen is my closet

In a city where space is at such a premium that bragging rights are measured in square feet, small is getting big. An expanding clutch of hotels like the Jane offer cramped sleeping quarters on the cheap, often with shared bathrooms and bunk beds, to budget-minded travelers seeking a dash of style along with their savings.

Your Room as Cocoon: Teeny, Cheap and Chic

There's been stuff in the printed media lately about how New Yorkers have no space, and need to store clothes in the fridge. Or oven. How ridiculous.

I've lived here in Manhattan for fifteen years and have NEVER had to store my clothes in the fridge.

There's plenty of room in the apartment. And if, IF, there's a storage problem, there's always the microwave.

People tend to exaggerate. I keep things in my microwave - a ball of string, kosher salt, an ice cube tray and occasionally a toaster. As I say, NEVER the oven and never the fridge.

So what's with the title of this post? Russell Crowe, sex????

Well, it's been a hard day. First off was the immigration rally. This morning I decided to "do the right thing" and so off I headed to Foley Square to join a heap of other immigrants opposing the recent Arizona immigration law.

It was fun. It's been years since I've been to a demonstration. I think the last one was in Melbourne some time last century when many of us were protesting about Indonesia's attempted take-over of East Timor.

So it was a bit like discovering one's inner protester when I exited the #5 subway to join the ranks of the anti-Tea Party May Day marchers, downtown Manhattan.

The atmosphere was festive. The temperature was hot. The language was Spanish.

I liked it. I can now say, "Yes we can!" in Spanish.

I'm glad I went. Sì, se puede!

It was late afternoon by the time I arrived back home. My friend Babs called. "Let's drink margaritas and eat tacos," she said. Babs is always spot on when it comes to mood. So we decided to meet up at the local Mexican restaurant, "Taco Taco".

It was fun. We drank our margaritas and ate our tacos and talked about ... whatever. Before we left we were wondering about what men talk about to other men. Intriguing.

I said I didn't know what they talked about but I THOUGHT that they thought about sex. A lot. I'd read it in a book somewhere.

Babs agreed. We were wondrous. "How can they?" we thought, simultaneously.

I tried to think about how women think about sex. That's when I thought, and said, "Russell Crowe is pure sex."

"Yes of course," said Babs. We always agree.

Heaps of people against Sarah Pailin, a sunny day in Manhattan, excellent Mexican food, and thoughts of Russell Crowe.

Life is beautiful.