Category Archives: General

It’s a photo-heavy day of posts, mainly because I’m in travel status and returning from Boston today. These are a few of my favorite photos from fall.

Is there a sadder phrase than ‘the last day of summer‘? Perhaps ‘the last day of fall’. Or maybe just the term ‘winter’. At any rate, we’ve reached the technical end of the sunny season, but before delving totally into cashmere and corduroy, let’s take one final dip in the pool – a last remembrance of the highlights that the summer of 2013 provided. It was, after all, a Summer of Love.

It began with a return to a family tradition: a trip to Broadway with my Mom to see the season’s best shows. In this case, it was the spectacular Tony-winning production of ‘Kinky Boots‘ and the equally-spectacular (and equally-Tony-winning) revival of ‘Pippin‘. If forced to pick a favorite, I’d go with the Boots. Somewhere in that weekend was a birthday dinner with Suzie too.

It was the summer of Gatsby too, as JoAnn joined us for a Gatsby-themed party, and some summer dishes.

Cocktails are always called for, especially in the heat and sun of the season. A few notables were this cherry muddler (which effectively got me over my aversion to muddling) and the vesper, but also some Bloody Marys, a pina colada, this lychee concoction, the tequila cranberry cooler, a gloriously chilly limoncello delight, and a classic lavender drink.

The twins continued their quick growth – both physically and mentally – just beginning to talk up a storm, and entering their ‘Why?’ phase.

I finally got to meet my #1 stalker (and trust me, it takes a stalker to love one).

One of the happiest highlights of this summer was visiting Portland, Maine for the wedding of our friends Lonnie and Eric.

Madonna laid low while editing her MDNA Tour DVD, but The Madonna Timeline continued, with some memorable trips down musical lane, including ‘Crazy For You‘.

There were some noteworthy fragrances perfect for the summer season, including this gem from Hermes, and this new one from Tom Ford. (But don’t forget the Rive d’Ambre!)

Music fueled the more moody posts on here, especially with songs like ‘Life in Mono‘, ‘Carry On‘, ‘Misty‘, ‘Darling Be Home Soon‘ and ‘Verdi Cries‘.

Hard to believe, but this also marked the year of my 20^th high school reunion. Again, don’t do the math.

Throughout it all, the weather stayed largely hot, with a decent deal of sun, perfect for getting naked in the pool, day or night, and comparing my naked ass then with my naked ass now.

This year marked my premiere on Instagram. (So far only one of my pictures was banned…)

Summer is also the season of shirtlessness, and the many Hunks that paraded through the hot days included the likes of the following:

• Nick Adams
• Ryan Bertroche
• Tomas Brand
• Allen Clippinger
• Justin Deeley
• James Deen
• Godfrey Gao
• Matt Harvey
• Ben Hunt
• Choi Ho Jin
• Elijah Johnston
• Matthew Kirk
• Garrett Neff
• Ryan Paevey
• Tom Rodriquez
• Brandon Rubendall
• Ian Somerhalder
• Leighton Stultz
• Marty Westmoore

There was a holiday memory in the midst of summer, and I managed to get myself kicked out of Starbucks without even trying.

It was also the summer I started to cook, in earnest, and just in time for a kitchen renovation this fall (good timing as always). It was all about the FRV (fish, rice, vegetable) trio, much of which was done on the grill. Favorites included a quinoa salad, these super grilled scallops, a raspberry-based summer salad, some figs, a lemon dijon vinaigrette salad, bitch-slap brownies, and the simplicity of a poached egg.

In July this website hit a major milestone, at least for a personal blog.

And in August I celebrated my birthday at The Mount, Edith Wharton’s estate and gardens, where it began and ended with the written word.

Finally, there was always magic to be found on summer weekends in Boston. The college kids were away, the air was warm, and the tree-lined streets of the South End offered shade and romance. It was a time of Freedom, sunsets, and quiet mornings (and evenings) in the condo.

All in all, it was a good season, but it’s time to say good-bye. Hell, after last summer’s dismal showing, it couldn’t be anything but better. Here’s looking forward to a fabulous fall.

It always takes on a sad aspect now. Certainly not as sad as when it gets covered, and laid to rest, but pitiful – for its coldness, its pockets of dirty leaves, and the way it stays so still when the pump is off. This is the pool at the end of summer. The memories of bright sunny days, of laughter and splashes, of cool midnight swims are all that remain now. Will it be enough to sustain us through the fall and winter? It has to be.

Tomorrow I’m headed back to Boston to see two of my good friends – Kira and Alissa (and Alissa’s daughter Sophia) – and to greet the fall season in my favorite city. It’s also a good opportunity to set the condo up for the next few months (such as re-stocking the basics and cleaning the floors), as I’ll be spending a wee bit more time there once our kitchen renovation begins.

For now, though, a weekend with friends, easy-going and comforting – the way fall should begin.

Sorry to bring the summer to a crashing close, especially when we have a few days left, but the writing is on the wall. Get over it. Summer is just about done, and it’s time. I’m welcoming the fall with open arms. There are certainly things I’ll miss, but for now let’s just go back a week. This is a brief one. I’ll do a better summer recap later on…

The best thing in life is being silly with friends. And when we get silly, we get silly.

Sometimes I’ve got to get out and drive.

September 11 was my Dad’s birthday (more pictures yet to come).

After nine months, the official announcement of my new project was made. And the latest installment was one of the main reasons I did it.

There were hunks to close out the season, even if they were somewhat sparse. Still, some saliva should be spilled for Luke Perry and Jason Priestley, and, of course, Ben Cohen.

Always, there were memories of Boston, and my favorite time of the day in my favorite room.

An explanation of the evolution and ensuing insanity of a Project

When I went away to college, my greatest fear was that I’d be forgotten – by my friends, my family, anyone who meant anything to me. Creating projects, writing letters, sending things in the mail – these were the ways in which I stayed in touch and, hopefully, in their minds.

It started out simply enough. A theme was chosen – usually whatever interested or intrigued me – whatever the universe was whispering at that moment. Sometimes it started with a humble piece of stationary – the colors and designs evoking something in me, something that reminded or recalled a feeling, a memory, a notion pointing to something more substantial. From there the world would drop subtle hints if I was on the right path, and my tastes would shift accordingly: a new cologne, a new pair of shoes, a new haircut – all in keeping with the journey and discovery I was making. A definitive topic was fleshed out, and soon everything else followed, a signature font was determined for the writing, a color and design scheme was created, and the regular arrival of a story, a letter, a musical mix, a poem – all tied into the same theme. Almost everything was sent in the mail when I first started these projects, utilizing the old-fashioned and increasingly-quaint postal service. The postage fees were, and remain, exorbitant, if only for the sheer amount of material being sent out. (It’s interesting to note that when I began these projects, back in 1993, stamps cost half as much as they do now.) The cost never mattered much, since I knew how special it felt to receive something that wasn’t a bill or a credit card offer in the mail.

Those first few projects were admittedly rather rough around the edges – the raw stuff of learning and finding my way, and if I were to look back at them today, it would be with considerable embarrassed amusement. Luckily I don’t often look back on finished work, (despite rumors of excessive ego and self-obsession).

Eventually, these projects grew more intricate and extravagant, with the promotional material often overshadowing the work itself or, more accurately, becoming part of the project – entwined inexorably with the same look, the same feel, only now there accompanying CDs, photography, DVDs, multi-media explosions – and requisite celebratory kick-off parties that sometimes seemed like entire projects unto themselves.

Still, there’s something to be said for doing things in a simple way, and this latest ‘project” hopefully harkens to a time when writers were published in small weekly or monthly publications, a time when Charles Dickens produced ongoing installments to keep readers entertained and coming back for more. At its heart, writing is a way to get closer to people. To this day, whenever I feel the need to re-connect, to re-establish the bonds of friendship, of love, I sit down and write a letter. At its most basic, it’s a way to feel less alone.

One final caveat: this is raw stuff. As it was when I started doing projects, it’s all off the cuff, in the moment, with no room for perfection. There’s something exciting about letting it all pour out and just sending it along before any second-guessing. A sense of relevant immediacy lends a purity and honesty to the work that often gets watered down with meticulous editing and overproduction. I’ve never been one for major editing – I’ve come around over the years because that is when the bad bits can be excised and reworked, but my gut-instinct maintains that the first flush of words on paper is the most important. It is in that spirit that I send out these stories. They’re rough in spots, some wouldn’t work in any other real format or form, but they came directly from the well of my most pure inspiration.

Please don’t expect perfection, or even an attempt at something perfect, this is rough, raw, and bareback. It’s not a time to be safe. We plunge into it together, hand in hand and, darkness be damned, we’ll somehow prevail.

{Tomorrow, the 9^th installment of ’13’ ~ only on www.ALANILAGAN.com.}

The explanation for the title of this post will remain, as so many things do, an in-joke between me and the two lovely ladies pictured here. Only with friends like this can I let down my guard and be silly and ridiculous and not worry about any of it. This was JoAnn and Ali after a bottle of bubbly (and a vesper or two) just before dinner and a show this past weekend in Boston.

They are a hoot on their own – but put the three of us together and it’s a different scene entirely. Amazeballs, y’all. (Usually there are wigs and costumes and Amber Jewels involved.)

Ali was acting as Alice the maid, attending to JoAnn as she got her sheer shirt together.

These photos, like the friends in them, make me laugh. There is no happier feeling.

The ride back from Boston is usually a sad one. If the weather matched my mood, it would be rainy and overcast, with a cruel, cutting wind, and a damp chill. The sky would match my tears, pouring forth salty raindrops as if ripped from the sea.

But on this Sunday, it couldn’t be more beautiful. The few drops of rain that had fallen in the night were now a memory. The sun had risen and burned any haze away. Walking down Braddock Park, I bask in the warmth of this late-summer day, smiling at the father who is teaching his daughter how to ride a bike, the two of them awkwardly and endearingly adjusting their matching helmets. Flowers bloom along the way, resplendent in the rich fullness of a season of growth. Lime green hydrangeas hang over wrought iron gates, deep purple sweet potatoes trail against gray stone, and begonias bloom so vibrantly orange that any over-saturated photo-shopping would pale in comparison.

Normally I am in a rush at this point, wishing only to get out and back into the work-week mindset. On this morning, I take my time. The calls of excited kids sound from a park. A dog and its owner click along the sidewalk. A man with sunglasses, a cup of coffee, and a mop of morning hair shuffles groggily in the opposite direction. By the time the short walk to my car is finished, I am beaming in the simple beauty of the day.

On the turnpike, the first signs of fall are just beginning to show. A stand of burning bush has been ignited. The first shades of red are seeping into the sumac. A lone maple glows bright orange in a sea of green. Someone has to start the show.

Bright bursts of cumulus clouds explode above the road, hanging low in the sky like cotton puffs on a blanket of blue. It is a brilliant scene, and this is the kind of sky that only the onslaught of early fall affords. 

Then, I do something I never do: I open the sun-roof. Ask Andy (or Chris and his ridiculous convertible in California), I’m not a sun-roof fan. Black hair + Direct sunlight = Burning scalp. Today, the wind is refreshingly cool. I raise my hand and feel the rush of it over my skin. Twisting it slowly in the fast-moving air, I feel free. I feel connected. I feel happy.

Beauty is around me. Beauty is in the other passengers in other cars. Beauty is in the goldenrod nodding along on the side of the road, in the clouds flying overhead, in the waving reeds gone to seed. It is, above all else, a pocket of peace. Such peace is rare, such moments usually rush right by me.

I pull over to get gas, but instead of getting right back on the turnpike, I pull into a parking space at the rest stop and step out of the car. The distant rush of other vehicles is muffled from this far away. I stand on the sidewalk and stretch my legs, looking up into the sky, into that brilliant sun. It feels good just to be alive.

The first week of September has come to a close, and the next one begins. This recap will be a quick one, as I am recapped out based on this post of gratuitous nudity and a linky-link-link extravaganza. I’m also gearing up for the best installment of this year’s project, coming up at the end of this week, along with a fuller, more comprehensive explanation of it. (Up until now it’s been hush-hush.)

The main accomplishment of the previous week was getting The Archives updated back to 2010 (including July). 

If the technical side of this site bores you as much as it does me, try out the man candy that requires no amount of strenuous thinking whatsoever, especially when the shirtless likes of David Beckham, Charlie Hunnam, Zac Efron, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Sean Avery are at hand.

If you happen to be in London in the next six months, help me out with this gigantic favor.

Speaking of Tom Ford, I am in love with his latest Private Blend, Plum Japonais.

Finally, when it doubt, eat it. Just eat it. Eat it!

This weekend I’m returning to Boston to attend a performance of ‘Wicked’ with my friend JoAnn. It’s her first time seeing the show, which is always a special occasion, and it’s a welcome diversion from all things upstate New York. September is one of my favorite times to be in Boston. Fall is one of those seasons that has a better beginning than ending, and while I usually like to wait for such rewards, I’ll take this one now.

The farmer’s markets begin to spill their gourds and squash from baskets, the flowers go from the fresh shades of spring bulbs to the autumnal hues of sunflowers and zinnias, and the scent of dying, drying leaves, warmed in the sun, rises from the ground. It is the beginning of the end, but it goes out in a blaze of glory.

Madonna, performing one of her enduring classics on the MDNA Tour. That’s all.

Having spent the bulk of this past weekend updating the Archives here (at least back through 2010 – scroll down and pick a month – any month!), I can now give a recap of both July 2011 and August 2011, which up until today had gone missing. They’re back now, after much tedious and tiresome copying and pasting (hello Day of Labor), and you can see all the ridiculous posts that I probably shouldn’t have even bothered with restoring. I kid. Most of the posts prior to 2012 have been edited and weeded out to only the strong and salacious, so have a go knowing that most of the filler has been excised. (There are just so many shirtless male celebrities I can bother with these days.)

Here are some highlights, including a naked Harry Potter (a.k.a. Daniel Radcliffe) as seen in the featured pics:

• At the ripe old age of fourteen, I’m doubtful that It Must Have Been Love.

• The movie may have gotten a PG-13 rating, but my Adventures in Babysitting post might have gotten an R for all the shit talk.

• If you’re hungry, there’s a Waldorf Chicken Salad.

• If you’re thirsty there’s a Lavender Cocktail, a Last Word, or a Sun Cocktail, all ripe for the summer picking.

• If you’re looking to see me make a total fool of myself for the cajillionth time, there’s this post recounting my days as a summer stalker.

• And since it’s summer, there’s always skinny dipping and stripping.