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Funny what twelve hours of sleep can do. And two hours in the dentist chair can undo. So I slept from seven to seven, woken only by the baby downstairs, bathroom breaks, and some pretty ferocious dreams. Generally, though, I shook off my Grammy hangover. So I got up and went running. It was nearly…

This is what I look like seconds after abandoning my attempt to capture my exhausted melancholy in song: defeated. I left The MTV sometime around 2:30 last night. Times Square was empty, the lights blinking for no one but me. I walked north on Broadway until Air’s ‘Mike Mills’ — the perfect acompanyment for an…

Yo, so it’s 1:15 in the morning. I’m still on the 29th floor at The MTV. The Grammy Awards are over, though we’re still working on all our wrap ups. Tim Russert’s interview with George Bush is encoring on MSNBC, and I gotta’ say, it’s funnier than SNL. Still, I can’t stand to watch any…

The sun was just peaking over the treetops of the West Village as I struck out for the first of my two races this morning… The first starts in an hour, a NYRRC 10k, so I really should get into my racing tights and such (triple layers for sure — it’s wicked cold). Then I…

While what I’m drinking as I type may look like Pepto Bismo, in fact the beverage I’ve concocted is apple and orange juices, frozen strawberries and blueberries, a dash of Gatorade powder, frozen yogurt, and two Advil whipped up in the blender. It’s the perfect preemptive hangover remedy. So it’s Saturday morning. True: late Friday…

Walking home from the grocery story tonight (two apples, a six pack of Brooklyn Lager, raspberry vinaigrette dressing, oat bran pretzels), I saw a man on his knees begging for change on the corner of 56th & Tenth … just a few hundred feet from my doorstep. My first thoughts were of George Bush, and…