A Happy Holiday Message from Just An Online Minute!

Last night, it seemed that everyone could have used a good spanking. I sat on my couch, uploading the last batch of photos from Digital DUMBO into their Flickr set, thinking, "really, do I need to go to the Conversation Naughty or Nice Holiday party?" I had almost convinced myself that it was going to be a run-of-the-mill holiday party and there are only so many ways to write about that. I was wrong wrong wrong.

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, there is nothing I am more attracted to than an ugly holiday sweater party. I hopped off the F at York Street in DUMBO and pitter-pattered in the biting cold, fueled by the brain tease of a room full of DUMBO digihipsters in various knitted ropes of red and green. I imagined an explosion of creative hideousness from this innovative bunch.

From The Atlantic to the foundation of angels, well Angel Orensantz Foundation for Contemporary Art that is. For it was within that gorgeous former synagogue that AICP/East threw their holiday party, an event with celeb chef edibles, the customary AICP square bar, and dreidel tables.

Many moons ago, I worked at IBM. Many moons later, we broke up. During the break-up, I was determined to become more well-read, pay more attention to politics, and polish up my wit. Suddenly The Atlantic started showing up at my first Manhattan apartment, courtesy of friend and mentor Christopher Barger (who has since left IBM and is now Director, Global Social Media at GM). I remember opening it up and huffing, "dang, that's a lot of words," because up until then I only read Garfield. I will always have a special spot in my heart for The Atlantic, so …

What happened last week? Oh right, a whole slew of holiday parties. Good thing this week is slower, right? Ah ha! Ah hahahahahahaha! That maniacal laughter is dipped in sarcasm, swirled with insanity, and sprinkled with couch separation anxiety. This week isn't slowing down, and if you slow down, it is going to mow you down with a sleigh driven by an overweight elf careening toward a triple bypass. You know, if you believe in that sort of thing.

I emerged from the elevator after the Yelp Snow Ball, into the temporarily abandoned office space on the 21st floor of the Woolworth Building. My Ohio almost fell out of my mouth as my eyes drank in the fabulous lighting of this landmark space.

Last night was a ball. A snow ball. A snow ball packed tight with delicious New York foods and drinks all rolled into the 69th Armory, set to the crystal-clear voice and bawdy brass of Sister Sparrow & The Dirty Birds. It was the Yelp NYC Snow Ball - stop #1 of my 3 party tour of the city last night.

This morning I woke up to the unventilated fumes of the apartment renovation beneath me. My nose seemed to expand as my head clouded up with visions of pink elephants and marathon running wombats. It was in this Lucy In The Sky moment that I decided: Today's Just An Online Minute will be one big fat poem. Set to the cadence of '"Twas The Night Before Christmas," because it's easier.

If a muse really is the power that inspires a poet, artist, thinker, or the like (hopefully not the "like" button) (thanks, dictionary.com), then I'd have to say my muse is pretty clichéd -- it's the city of New York. No habitat has been so challenging, so irritating, so beautiful, such a tease, so awe-inspiring, so terrifying, such a thief, and such a giver. It's where dreams are indeed made, but also made to vanish if you hesitate or rest on your laurels too long. I may have a new muse, however, and I discovered her at today's New York …