Dating is not a pretty matter. Well at least it hasn’t been on many occasions for me. I thought a nice little recap of my experience thus far was long over due.
Let’s start in High School.
This gal has always been open to all kinds of people. It is what I love. I try to give everyone a chance (that is after judging them immediately of course) and here’s where it has left me.
Picture it. High school sophomore year. I visit my friends mom at work. The next day she tells me that one of her co-workers saw me, and asked for me. “He would die to go out with you”. She said. Hmm, well hadn’t been out on a date in a long time and I certainly did not want the situation to become deadly. “Why not”? I thought.
The Redneck (yes his neck was red)
He met me at a coffee house downtown (before I was permitted to drink legally). He pulled up in a red pick up truck, with a confederate hanging from the back. After a nice conversation he told me about his pets, a few sheep, some cows, some horses, and goat. This girl from NY said those are not pets, that my friend is a farm. Old McDonald had fewer animals than this guy. He was very nice, I would have maybe been able to look past his missing teeth and balding at 20 but…..I pray every day that the south will not rise again and animals stay in zoos or in the wild where they belong. Luckily enough I got out of that one.
The Bosnian
A very attractive guy that I met out at the bar in my college/home town. He was sweet, made Turkish coffee for me, and looked like Jude Law. Yum. Valentines day my new friend picked me up and presented me with a rose, a beautiful start to an evening that changed abruptly. He the entire way to his house told me a story about a girl from my college who he was in love with. A girl that he had met and she rejected him. It happens to the best of us, I thought. Then he told me who she was. She turned out to be a good friend of mine with whom I studied in Italy. She was possibly one of the sweetest girls I had ever met. I may be a good person, but she is a great person. This is where it started to go down hill. We went back to his house, where he presented me with a box. I opened the red, Wal-Mart, jewelry box to a gold, heart shaped necklace. I have never once in my life owned a gold item of jewelry. Well by choice. So here, my new beau after talking insistently about a friend of mine whom he loved gave me one of the ugliest forms of affection I have ever received. He had single handedly ruined two of my favorite things, flowers and jewelry…..I was at any moment expecting a box of chocolate covered insects. So I said goodbye to Turkish coffee and Bosnian actor look a likes and took myself home.
The Compulsive Liar
Now I was going to just do bad dates but I couldn’t resist this one (and I saw the Bosnian for more than one date so now multi-dates or relationships (ick) are included). Now we get to one of the worst.
Facts:
Attractive – Ethnic – Hispanicy - Male
From New York
Previously married
Moved from Hawaii
Masters in International Business
In a Jazz band
Surfer
True Facts:
Male
The Loser
So. Even though I get asked out quite a bit, everywhere and anywhere, I decided to give internet dating a whirl. This last one and the most recent date was a product of this endeavor.
Picture/Profile
Attractive
Creative
Older aka 30’s
Man
After a few phone calls back and forth I was on my way back from traveling back from PA and he called again. I had just gotten off the bus from a very long, fabulous, and crazy weekend. Yes I did say PA.
“Why don’t you stop by for a drink on your way home?” He asked.
“Well I look horrible”. I said.
“I have just been on a bus for 2 hours and I have been traveling all day”.
“Just stop by a coffee shop to freshen up”. He replied.
“The correct answer is, you always look gorgeous”. I informed him.
“Are you hungry”? He asked.
“No I ate before leaving PA”. I said.
“Good, cause I’m stuff”. He said. –I interpreted this as…….I am cheap and will not pay for dinner.
I arrive. I did not look that bad. I was wearing a black fitted skirt, a white collared shirt, a black vest and high heels.
“Is that what you wear traveling”. He asked in a non complimentary way.
“Yes”. I replied.
“Well, you’ll change your shoes when we go for walks, right?” He asked. I should have known then.
I looked him over. He looked about 10 years older than his picture. He was short, poorly dressed, lived in great building but….wait what’s this???? He was completely bald in the back. If that wasn't enough here are just a few more of the lovely qualities and characteristics of my Sunday night date.
In no particular order
Unemployed
Unattractive
Doesn’t drink alcohol because it puts him to sleep
Only thing in his realm of interest was rock bands (something I know nada about)
Last 3 girlfriends were manic depressive/bi polar….does that make it his last 6???
Asked if I was on any mental illness medication
Asked how I felt about marijuana?
Germaphobic – and living in one of the dirtiest cites in the US
When the check came he gave me a story about having lost his ATM card that day.
When I put in my share I saw him getting quarters out of his wallet. I offered to take care of the whole $7 bill.
When I told him I was taking a cab home…instead of offering me fair…he offered to walk me to the bus stop instead. And criticised me for taking a cab home even though I was by myself at 10:30pm.
I hailed a cab. Told the sweet cabbie the whole story. And e-mail my date a nice little note the next day.
Dear Loser,
So glad I had the opportunity to meet you last night. I do not think you are what I am looking for right now.
Take Care.
Your girl,
Lucky to get out of this one
He wouldn't have liked me long term anyway. Since I am not bi polar, dont own hand sanitizer, walk around the city in high heels, and oh wait have to go to a job everyday. Bummer. :-)
Your girl,
Really Lucky
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Monday Night Lights
So it is the second week of my new old job. After work I test drove my first car, my first reliable car and still made it to the train to dinner.
We went to a small little European Wine bar called ino. It was smack in the middle of an intersection of about 5 roads that were conveniently under construction. After calling the restaurant from 1 block away I finally made it to the dimly lit haven that sells full heavy glasses of wine and Italian savory treats. I waited at the bar and watched the bartender pour my perfect glass. The glass was half full when the bottle ran out. In no greater time than 4 seconds he slide a stool over with his foot, propped himself up, grabbed a bottle of wine, swung it and himself down and uncorked it. It was the most fluid sexy act I have ever witnessed in a bar. After my Sangiovese, rugala and parmesan salad and two pieces of fresh tomato and basil bruschetta. I looked around the room. Even though there were only a handful of tables, many of them were filled with true Europeans. I always found it interesting that even when they go abroad they search for what they have at home. Maybe because they know what they have is right.
I made my way back to the subway.
On the subway ride home I experienced something that one can only experience in New York, the unexpected, the odd, the humorous and humanity. I got on the packed subway at around 10:00pm. And I changed over to the express train that would take me up to Harlem at 14th Street. Every seat was full on this train. Then this gentleman in plain looking golf like shorts, a white tee-shirt, sneakers, sunglasses carrying a base guitar and amp got on. I had never seen him before. He sits downs and says with confidence, karisma and serious cool…this one is for the beautiful Indian lady with the nice smile. He looked at her. No one looks at one another in New York. The first thing I told my PA mom when she came to visit was “Don’t look anybody in the eyes”. She was shocked. This was the complete opposite of what she though civilized people do. Then she realized well “this is new york”. What was more surprising than his candor was that she smiled back and then looked and me and smiled. We all waited in anticipation of what this comedian was going do sing. “Dun dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun dun dun, I got sunshine, on a cloudy day” (everyone was smiling) “when its cold outside, I got the month of may…this one is for you Indian lady with the pretty hair and smile”. “This next song (he continued) is you the gray haired lady right there. Gray haired lady this is for you”. There was a pause. “I”VE BEEN REALLY TRYING BABY…….COME ON…..LETS GET IT ON….this is for you you sexy gray haired lady”. Pause “This next song is for the Puerto Rican “Wantana meda whinta wantana medaaaaaa wanita wantanameda”. “Now for all the Africans on the Train”….and this went on. For ten stops, half an hour. Every single person on the train was smiling. We were all looking at eachother. For the first time in a long time these New Yorkers were people in public. I took his picture. I wanted to remember this forever. This happiness that this one man caused.
I walked home not feeling tired from my late dinner and show and the girls next store (not to be confused for…but could be confused for…Hugh Heffners girls next door) were up. They were getting ready to out. For the first time in a long time I wanted to go. Clubs are not usually my thing. They generally are a lot of posing, prodding and people from New Jersey trying to impress other people from new jersey by trying to be “new york”. Don’t they know all they have to do is not look people in the eye? But this night I felt like going out. I made my hair big (very easy to do) and slipped on my black dress, a pair of high heels later and I was off. The four girls jumped into the white porsche that was owned by the rapper boyfriend of one of my friends and we headed downtown to a club. We got to a club and stood behind the velvet ropes with all the other beautiful people. Then we noticed something. Something strange even for New York Club life (the underworld as I call it). They were only letting in ugly people with tee-shirts, backpacks, holey jeans and crocs. CROCS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All the beautiful people were left out. I had no idea what was going on. We left and went to another club “Soul”. This haunt was hip hop and that night all the players were out. Oh no not the players that are usually out on the town on a sat night to pick up chicks but actual players. These guys played for the Knicks, the Jets and the Giants. It was till we left the club that I realized the guy at our table that we were hanging out with (note our table…we took it over) plays for the Giants. It explained the weird colors in their décor. As soon as we left the club around 4:30am my friend realized someone took her blackberry. She went haywire, nuts, crazy, started screaming. I felt awful but…..it was a phone, not a person, not a pet, a phone. Phones can be replaced but she felt someone had taken her soul (how I would also feel if my phone were missing). She started freaking out. I calmed her down and as I calmed her down one of the girls next door sneaked off with a player not sure in what sense. I finally got our girl back to the car. She speed off in her porsche and when the police behind pulled up next to her she rolled down the window and yell “What do you do when some girl steals your phone”. And then she drove off. Needless to say at 4:30AM we got pulled over by the NYPD. 3 tickets later, a search of a rappers car, my mind going through all proper search and seizer procedures, the mini therapy session in the front seat and a conversation with T-Mobile we where heading home. I washed my face, looked at the clock, set my alarm and prayed I woke on time, two hours later.
Tuesday night I went home and turned out the lights.
Your girl,
Lucky
We went to a small little European Wine bar called ino. It was smack in the middle of an intersection of about 5 roads that were conveniently under construction. After calling the restaurant from 1 block away I finally made it to the dimly lit haven that sells full heavy glasses of wine and Italian savory treats. I waited at the bar and watched the bartender pour my perfect glass. The glass was half full when the bottle ran out. In no greater time than 4 seconds he slide a stool over with his foot, propped himself up, grabbed a bottle of wine, swung it and himself down and uncorked it. It was the most fluid sexy act I have ever witnessed in a bar. After my Sangiovese, rugala and parmesan salad and two pieces of fresh tomato and basil bruschetta. I looked around the room. Even though there were only a handful of tables, many of them were filled with true Europeans. I always found it interesting that even when they go abroad they search for what they have at home. Maybe because they know what they have is right.
I made my way back to the subway.
On the subway ride home I experienced something that one can only experience in New York, the unexpected, the odd, the humorous and humanity. I got on the packed subway at around 10:00pm. And I changed over to the express train that would take me up to Harlem at 14th Street. Every seat was full on this train. Then this gentleman in plain looking golf like shorts, a white tee-shirt, sneakers, sunglasses carrying a base guitar and amp got on. I had never seen him before. He sits downs and says with confidence, karisma and serious cool…this one is for the beautiful Indian lady with the nice smile. He looked at her. No one looks at one another in New York. The first thing I told my PA mom when she came to visit was “Don’t look anybody in the eyes”. She was shocked. This was the complete opposite of what she though civilized people do. Then she realized well “this is new york”. What was more surprising than his candor was that she smiled back and then looked and me and smiled. We all waited in anticipation of what this comedian was going do sing. “Dun dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun dun dun, I got sunshine, on a cloudy day” (everyone was smiling) “when its cold outside, I got the month of may…this one is for you Indian lady with the pretty hair and smile”. “This next song (he continued) is you the gray haired lady right there. Gray haired lady this is for you”. There was a pause. “I”VE BEEN REALLY TRYING BABY…….COME ON…..LETS GET IT ON….this is for you you sexy gray haired lady”. Pause “This next song is for the Puerto Rican “Wantana meda whinta wantana medaaaaaa wanita wantanameda”. “Now for all the Africans on the Train”….and this went on. For ten stops, half an hour. Every single person on the train was smiling. We were all looking at eachother. For the first time in a long time these New Yorkers were people in public. I took his picture. I wanted to remember this forever. This happiness that this one man caused.
I walked home not feeling tired from my late dinner and show and the girls next store (not to be confused for…but could be confused for…Hugh Heffners girls next door) were up. They were getting ready to out. For the first time in a long time I wanted to go. Clubs are not usually my thing. They generally are a lot of posing, prodding and people from New Jersey trying to impress other people from new jersey by trying to be “new york”. Don’t they know all they have to do is not look people in the eye? But this night I felt like going out. I made my hair big (very easy to do) and slipped on my black dress, a pair of high heels later and I was off. The four girls jumped into the white porsche that was owned by the rapper boyfriend of one of my friends and we headed downtown to a club. We got to a club and stood behind the velvet ropes with all the other beautiful people. Then we noticed something. Something strange even for New York Club life (the underworld as I call it). They were only letting in ugly people with tee-shirts, backpacks, holey jeans and crocs. CROCS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All the beautiful people were left out. I had no idea what was going on. We left and went to another club “Soul”. This haunt was hip hop and that night all the players were out. Oh no not the players that are usually out on the town on a sat night to pick up chicks but actual players. These guys played for the Knicks, the Jets and the Giants. It was till we left the club that I realized the guy at our table that we were hanging out with (note our table…we took it over) plays for the Giants. It explained the weird colors in their décor. As soon as we left the club around 4:30am my friend realized someone took her blackberry. She went haywire, nuts, crazy, started screaming. I felt awful but…..it was a phone, not a person, not a pet, a phone. Phones can be replaced but she felt someone had taken her soul (how I would also feel if my phone were missing). She started freaking out. I calmed her down and as I calmed her down one of the girls next door sneaked off with a player not sure in what sense. I finally got our girl back to the car. She speed off in her porsche and when the police behind pulled up next to her she rolled down the window and yell “What do you do when some girl steals your phone”. And then she drove off. Needless to say at 4:30AM we got pulled over by the NYPD. 3 tickets later, a search of a rappers car, my mind going through all proper search and seizer procedures, the mini therapy session in the front seat and a conversation with T-Mobile we where heading home. I washed my face, looked at the clock, set my alarm and prayed I woke on time, two hours later.
Tuesday night I went home and turned out the lights.
Your girl,
Lucky
Monday, September 10, 2007
UN-derneath the Glamour
Well just another weekend in New York:
- Gala at the UN.
- Drinks at the Metropolitan Museum of Art (drinking in a museum always a good thing)
- Birthday party
- And Dinner with a good friend.
The Gala and Everything Afta
So to get ready for my gala event on Sat. this gala had to take her very formal black (of course) dress to the tailor. I found one near the day spa I go for maintenance and on some days the works. They tailor was sweet and assured me that my dress straps would be mended by the next day. Relieved that now I could attend the event without fear of causing a international scene. I went home, got in bed and watched law and order. My friend was celebrating her 26th birthday that night. So at about 11:00 I got dressed and headed downtown. After having one of the best mojitos I’ve ever had and salsa dancing with my very happy happy birthday girl I went home. Went to bed and woke up refreshed, at 12:30pm. Whoops. It was still plenty of time to get to my tailor and pick up my gown for the evening. After running errands I came home, took a nice relaxing shower and listened to La Traviata with Pavarotti. Ever since his death (just shy of a week ago) the opera that makes me cry normally has been playing through my mind in a constant stream. I put the dress on. Perfect. I looked stunning. I put on the new Chanel lip gloss that I bought for the event at Saks the day before and I walked out of my brownstone in Harlem, hailed a cab and headed downtown.
Since it was the UN I didn’t feel that I could go UN-escorted. I imported from PA a friend that has been sweet enough to accompany me to by now tons of events. It’s a go thing he likes free dinners and drinks. I was meeting him at a friend of a friends apt. As I was about to pay the driver I reached into my purse and “pop” my strap broke. The brand new strap that the oh so nice tailor replaced broke right there in the car. Nothing was exposed but the cab driver started freaking out. “Oh no miss, oh no”. I calmed him down assured him I would be ok, gave him his fare and a nice tip. Just then I noticed we happened to stop in front of a dry cleaners/Tailors that was open. I hopped out of the car (not to aggressively of course) walked in and approached a man diligently working at sewing machine. “Is there anyway you can help me. I was just in a cab and my strap broke. Is there any way you can fix it”. He looked at me. I was completely put together, not a hair of mine was out of place, in a dress that looked tailored with the execption of one spaghetti strap hanging off my shoulder. Without a word he turned back to his machine, took a needle and some black thread turned back to me and said “don’t move”. I assured him that I wouldn’t move let alone breath and in five minutes and five dollars later I was reinforced and back on the street.
The gala was gorgeous. My date and I got there just before sunset and could see the lights of the city slowly emerge around us from the balcony of the UN. After many drinks, a dinner, speakers and mingling we were out of the UN and on our way home. We decided to stop at a bar that I had wanted to go to. “Top of the Tower” located next door to the UN. We took the elevator up to the 26th floor, the doors open and again my breath was taken away by the scene. There was a grand piano being played by a gentleman in a tuxedo. The keys were creating the great tunes of Gershwin and Irving Berlin. Large open windows that gave a panoramic view of midtown at night were the backdrop to small tables and soft leather couches. After a dirty martini and by no means dry conversation we headed home.
A beautiful evening.
The next day we had brunch at my favorite café in Harlem where the cappuccino tastes like it came from Italy and the staff takes as long as it would to bring it to you from there. I brought my friend back downtown around the corner from my new favorite tailors to his friends house.
After we said goodbye I decided to walk, walk the streets of my city. I walked all the way from the Mid 30’s to the Mid 60’s. I called friends and relived the details of the night before. I found a spot in Central Park at center of an intersection of a few of the paths. I sat down and enjoyed the shade and the nice weather.
After people and pigeon watching I continued my walk north and ended up at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you can recall it is one of the 7 wonders (according to my new york experts) in New York. After finding out the Impressionist exhibit I wanted to see was closed, and the fashion exhibit under construction I decided to check out the American wing which I hadn’t seen before. It was then I noticed on my map that there was a Modern collection that I hadn’t been to. I saw a name listed, “Bonnard”. Piere Bonnard is my favorite artist. He was a French and post impressionist painter. The first time I saw his art it was like seeing my dreams in paint. I love every piece. He isn’t nearly as popular as Monet, or Picasso and does not have nearly as many pieces but every piece I get the opportunity to see is a treasure. I anxiously made my way to the Modern Art gallery. I walked into the vast room and looked around at the different pieces. I saw it right away. Across the room there where three pieces that had to be his. Like a school girl seeing her latest crush I felt overcome with giddiness. His art makes me happy. “After Morning bath”, I love the titles. All of his pieces are as if you happened to open a door and walk into a room. The Met had 5 of his pieces. There was no way my day could get any better. I walked past the roman sculptures to the elevator and went up to the rooftop garden café. The vast patio looks over Central Park. It is just breathtaking. The weekend thus far had been a vision landscapes. After the annoying couple that took 5 hours or so to order a cookie, bottle of water and an ice cream cone I got my fruit and Pelligrino and sat down. The only seats that were left were snatched up by the couple who cut in line and then created one by taking so long. Then I noticed an older gentleman sitting by himself smoking. I thought he was the same gentleman that I took the elevator up with, who was celebrating his birthday in the Trustees dining room. I asked him if I could sit down. We started talking. I found out he also had a love for both New York and Pennsylvania. He graduated in 1955 from a college in one of my favorite towns, a town I was planning on going to the following weekend. After a long chat I said “Happy Birthday” again and went home. I walked the remaining 20 blocks back to my Upper Upper west side stoop.
I stopped by the grocer near my house. Picked up a few items and went home. My good friend Dre was coming over. I made us a simple chicken dinner and we watched tv.
Between Pavarotti, Gershwin, Dueling Tailors, the United Nations and my friends (old and new) I would say this weekend was not bad. Well really that’s an UN-derstatement.
Cheers,
Lucky
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Retiremonth
When you have a life like this what’s a girl to do??? Simple “Retiremonth”.
When life gets tough Retiremonth
When your out of luck Retiremonth
When you need a nap Retiremonth
And you’ll be on your way
To a bright and beautiful day
So now you might be asking…so what is this Retiremonth??
Well when you leave a job for a crappy job. Your boss tells you you’re stupid. Your coworkers biggest concern is if there is milk for their cereal. And the banshee in the corner is your boss. You quit take a month off and go back to what works. For me that is returning to the new old voice of a very green company that sets the bar pretty high. But not too high…..so you can still sit at it. The month off, in between, that my friends is what I like to call Retiremonth.
So what did I do for my one month hiatus?
Well. I didn’t carry my phone with me most places. Don’t worry it wasn’t turned off. That would mean the endJ
Went to lobersterfest in Maine.
Went to Musikfest aka Beerfest in Bethlehem PA.
Took a lot of naps.
Went to Carlisle had it shut down on me…there was a black out
Went to DC.
Still didn’t get to see the Lincoln Memorial. I like to keep my men waiting.
Laid out by a pool on a rooftop in D.C.
Laid out by a pool at a friends house in PA.
Had champagne on a rooftop in NYC.
Slept in and on:
5 Beds
4 Pull outs/couches
1 Floor
(none of which were my own)
Though this sounds like a lot. It was relaxing because I was able to spend time with those who mean the most to me, my friends and family. So even though I might not have another retiremonth for another quarter century or so….I feel pretty luck that I got to take advantage of one in between chaos and what I like to call coming home.
Your girl,
Lucky
When life gets tough Retiremonth
When your out of luck Retiremonth
When you need a nap Retiremonth
And you’ll be on your way
To a bright and beautiful day
So now you might be asking…so what is this Retiremonth??
Well when you leave a job for a crappy job. Your boss tells you you’re stupid. Your coworkers biggest concern is if there is milk for their cereal. And the banshee in the corner is your boss. You quit take a month off and go back to what works. For me that is returning to the new old voice of a very green company that sets the bar pretty high. But not too high…..so you can still sit at it. The month off, in between, that my friends is what I like to call Retiremonth.
So what did I do for my one month hiatus?
Well. I didn’t carry my phone with me most places. Don’t worry it wasn’t turned off. That would mean the endJ
Went to lobersterfest in Maine.
Went to Musikfest aka Beerfest in Bethlehem PA.
Took a lot of naps.
Went to Carlisle had it shut down on me…there was a black out
Went to DC.
Still didn’t get to see the Lincoln Memorial. I like to keep my men waiting.
Laid out by a pool on a rooftop in D.C.
Laid out by a pool at a friends house in PA.
Had champagne on a rooftop in NYC.
Slept in and on:
5 Beds
4 Pull outs/couches
1 Floor
(none of which were my own)
Though this sounds like a lot. It was relaxing because I was able to spend time with those who mean the most to me, my friends and family. So even though I might not have another retiremonth for another quarter century or so….I feel pretty luck that I got to take advantage of one in between chaos and what I like to call coming home.
Your girl,
Lucky
Friday, July 13, 2007
I Wonder Wonder
At a dinner party that would make any New Yorker jealous (except for the unfortunate few setting next to us) the fabulous four (The Darlings, My gal Friday and myself) decided that New York deserved 7 wonders. This was decided after none of us really knew what the 7 wonders of the world really were. Then we thought there were also natural wonders. And apparently there is search committee to find the modern wonders of the world since no one seems to remember the old ones. So it is with great pride that I announce the 7 wonders of The Marvelous City of New York.
(drum role please)
7 WONDERS OF NEW YORK
STATUE OF LIBERTY
THE SUBWAY
CENTRAL PARK
THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART
THE NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE
THE FOOD
THE PEOPLE
There they are. The a list of all A listers of NYC. It took the entire dinner from the first bottles of wine, through the appetizers, and well into the entrée before the list was finalized. There where heated debates, attempted vetos and lots of laughter. The people are definitely my favorite of the 7 wonders of NY and in particular the ones at our table last night.
Cheers,
Lucky
(drum role please)
7 WONDERS OF NEW YORK
STATUE OF LIBERTY
THE SUBWAY
CENTRAL PARK
THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART
THE NEW YORK STOCK EXCHANGE
THE FOOD
THE PEOPLE
There they are. The a list of all A listers of NYC. It took the entire dinner from the first bottles of wine, through the appetizers, and well into the entrée before the list was finalized. There where heated debates, attempted vetos and lots of laughter. The people are definitely my favorite of the 7 wonders of NY and in particular the ones at our table last night.
Cheers,
Lucky
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
My Meny
List of Men I have dated/gone on a date with/excluding all those not permitted to date by their wives
German Med Student
Italian Investment Banker
Current weatherman then high school junior
Current f-up and then high school drop out
Compulsive Liar
American Italian teacher
Librarian
Indian Pilot
Hippie
Sports Photographer
Bosnian
Accountant (was a write off)
Forrest Ranger then Marine
Bouncer
Hedge Fund/Philanthropist
Redneck
List of Men I have fallen in love with
Scottsman
German Med Student
My Best Friend Dean
German Med Student
Italian Investment Banker
Current weatherman then high school junior
Current f-up and then high school drop out
Compulsive Liar
American Italian teacher
Librarian
Indian Pilot
Hippie
Sports Photographer
Bosnian
Accountant (was a write off)
Forrest Ranger then Marine
Bouncer
Hedge Fund/Philanthropist
Redneck
List of Men I have fallen in love with
Scottsman
German Med Student
My Best Friend Dean
Monday, July 9, 2007
Best Weekend Ever
So I really started the weekend on Thursday. My soon to be ex company threw a party. Some of the clients were old pals from my former employer. I invited some of my fabulous girls as back up against the crazies at my office. We all looked gorgeous. After tons of hellos, a few beers, lots of good music and public humiliation from my current boss/fascist dictator I went home. I was the first one in the office the next day and the only one until 11:00am.
Friday. By the end of the day I was able to talk to Mussolini and he informed me that “I was not as smart as he thought I would be but he thought I had potential”. I was almost ready to inform him that I was potentially out of there but I let it slide.
Off to the Soho house to meet one of my old colleagues for a drink/advise/and a little fabulous sun by the pool. She became my new mentor. I informed her of Muss’s depiction of me and our conversation. We came up with a plan, and then I noticed the shoes of the gent next to me. Pink. Hmm I thought. My mentor got up to use the loo and I commented on my neighbor’s footwear.
“Nice Shoes”. I said.
“Thanks, they are Kung Foo shoes”. He said
Now I consider myself somewhat of a shoe guru. But never in my travels amongst Ferrigamo, Choo, Manolo, in an endless world of pumps, sling backs and kitten heels had I ever heard of Kung Foo shoes. I was intrigued.
“What makes them Kung Foo shoes”? I asked.
“They have a flat surface as the sole”. He said with a half grin.
I didn’t really understand. They looked like pink keds attached to a thirtysomething year old man with an eccentric grin.
“These are Kung foo shoes then”. I said confidently.
I pointed to my black wedges.
“They are flat on the bottom you see”?
He grinned.
My mentor returned and introductions were made.
“Fabulous mentor this is Kung Foo Irving”
“Kung Foo Irving this is the most fabulous woman in new york who just agreed to be my mentor”.
Both smiled.
Mentor had to run off. We kissed in the air near our cheeks and she was off. I returned to my Kung Foo friend.
Then there was the call. My twin, on of my best friends from DC was on the phone. She had just arrived in New York and was coming downtown to meet me. Kung Foo Irving had a great idea.
“Why don’t I put your friend on the list”? He suggested.
“Sure”. I replied.
“Twin, Kung Foo Irving..whom you haven’t met yet…my new friend is going to put you on the list. Just tell the cab driver to drop you off at 13th and 9th Ave in front of the Soho house. Tell them you are on the list and come up to the roof”.
This was fabulous. My twin should come to NYC for the weekend and start at the top of one of the coolest clubs in the city.
“I am wearing a tank top, flip flops and jeans is that ok”. She asked.
“You look gorgeous in whatever…..but….if you have heels to change into that would be great, and maybe change your stop”.
“Done”. She said and we hung up the phone.
I thanked my new friend. He was cute.
Not five minutes later my fabulous twin bound up the stairs and across the deck spotted with euros and yuppie new Yorkers.
She looked gorgeous. She was wearing jeans, and black top, and read and tan 1950’s like pair of heels. She looked amazing.
“Twin I would like to introduce you to Irving”.
We all sat around had a beer and then head off to my favorite Italian restaurant. It is one of the only Bolognese restaurants in New York, with home made pasta, great Sangiovese and a wait staff that never changes we were off. Kung foo had been invited but he had a pressing engagement at home. Something about an ex girlfriends dog.
My girl Friday met Twin and I and we had a fantastic meal. Stuffed we took a cab all the way home and crammed into my very full at this point queen bed.
Not a bad way to start the weekend.
Friday had to move to Brooklyn the next day so she went home to pack her belongings.
Brunch.
So Twin and I met up with my somewhat famous artist friend that happened to be doing work at Madame Trousseau’s wax museum in Times Square. He met us for breakfast at a little Brassiere on 53rd that we found out that was open 24 hours a day. He had little French donuts, and red wine. Twin had eggs and a large coffee I had yogurt and granola and one of his donuts along with my big cup of coffee. We walked around town for a little bit, got rid of the artist who had to go do some research at the museum and Twin and I headed downtown to the West Village to hang out with my oh so glamorous, fabulous friend Perry. Perry who is gorgeous, intelligent and lives in the very posh part of town invited us over to lay out on his roof. Unlike the soho house to ascend to the roof deck one had to shimmy up the fire escape. We got our towels, our beer and our glamour and shimmied right up. All of New York was in front of us.
“Let me give my grrlsss the tour”. Perry started.
Twin beamed she already loved him as much as I did.
“There she is the empire state building. She sits right next to Ms. Chrysler building”. Perry often used the feminine instead the simple neutral and boring article “the”.
“And if you look closely”. He continued.
“Look toward those three buildings over dere, the small one on the left”. He stated.
“Dat is where Ms. Nicole Kidman lives”. He smiled.
Twin and I loved it. We ate lunch, laid out and drank really good Belgian beer Perry’s new drink thing. We left the west village drunk, tired, sun kissed and fabulous.
“How else she be”? I ask joo.
We went home and took a nap and woke up late. We got dressed. I dressed Twin in a beautiful black cotton dress that one of my Darling friends designed. We met Friday and Friday’s soon to be ex-room mate with her soon to be fiancé after he broke up with his soon to be ex-wife. Very Very confusing. We went to Martigenti’s a very European fun bar/restaurant in lets call it soho sud. It really is in Little Italy but we will ignore that slight detail since the place was in its own little world anyway.
I realized by the end of dinner that I had left my ATM card in the ATM this AM. Oh no. I had enough cash to pay my bill then I called my bank and put my funds on hold and went to the next bar. Since the soon to be fiancé of Friday’s soon to be ex roomie was from London we took gang to Puck Fair and upscale kind of pub in Soho proper. After a few pints we headed home.
Twin and I woke up, went to my favorite brunch spot in Harlem. I treated my twin and myself to a wonderful brunch. Since the weather had been perfect all weekend we decided to go for a walk in central park. We walked around the conservatory gardens. We joked about the soho house, kung foo shoes, somewhat famous artists and fire escapes.
We were truly lucky. The both of us. I took her to the subway where she made her way back downtown to get a bus and go home.
I had just received a text from Kung Foo Irving.
“Did you and DC have a nice time this weekend?” He asked.
“Best Weekend Ever” was my reply.
Friday. By the end of the day I was able to talk to Mussolini and he informed me that “I was not as smart as he thought I would be but he thought I had potential”. I was almost ready to inform him that I was potentially out of there but I let it slide.
Off to the Soho house to meet one of my old colleagues for a drink/advise/and a little fabulous sun by the pool. She became my new mentor. I informed her of Muss’s depiction of me and our conversation. We came up with a plan, and then I noticed the shoes of the gent next to me. Pink. Hmm I thought. My mentor got up to use the loo and I commented on my neighbor’s footwear.
“Nice Shoes”. I said.
“Thanks, they are Kung Foo shoes”. He said
Now I consider myself somewhat of a shoe guru. But never in my travels amongst Ferrigamo, Choo, Manolo, in an endless world of pumps, sling backs and kitten heels had I ever heard of Kung Foo shoes. I was intrigued.
“What makes them Kung Foo shoes”? I asked.
“They have a flat surface as the sole”. He said with a half grin.
I didn’t really understand. They looked like pink keds attached to a thirtysomething year old man with an eccentric grin.
“These are Kung foo shoes then”. I said confidently.
I pointed to my black wedges.
“They are flat on the bottom you see”?
He grinned.
My mentor returned and introductions were made.
“Fabulous mentor this is Kung Foo Irving”
“Kung Foo Irving this is the most fabulous woman in new york who just agreed to be my mentor”.
Both smiled.
Mentor had to run off. We kissed in the air near our cheeks and she was off. I returned to my Kung Foo friend.
Then there was the call. My twin, on of my best friends from DC was on the phone. She had just arrived in New York and was coming downtown to meet me. Kung Foo Irving had a great idea.
“Why don’t I put your friend on the list”? He suggested.
“Sure”. I replied.
“Twin, Kung Foo Irving..whom you haven’t met yet…my new friend is going to put you on the list. Just tell the cab driver to drop you off at 13th and 9th Ave in front of the Soho house. Tell them you are on the list and come up to the roof”.
This was fabulous. My twin should come to NYC for the weekend and start at the top of one of the coolest clubs in the city.
“I am wearing a tank top, flip flops and jeans is that ok”. She asked.
“You look gorgeous in whatever…..but….if you have heels to change into that would be great, and maybe change your stop”.
“Done”. She said and we hung up the phone.
I thanked my new friend. He was cute.
Not five minutes later my fabulous twin bound up the stairs and across the deck spotted with euros and yuppie new Yorkers.
She looked gorgeous. She was wearing jeans, and black top, and read and tan 1950’s like pair of heels. She looked amazing.
“Twin I would like to introduce you to Irving”.
We all sat around had a beer and then head off to my favorite Italian restaurant. It is one of the only Bolognese restaurants in New York, with home made pasta, great Sangiovese and a wait staff that never changes we were off. Kung foo had been invited but he had a pressing engagement at home. Something about an ex girlfriends dog.
My girl Friday met Twin and I and we had a fantastic meal. Stuffed we took a cab all the way home and crammed into my very full at this point queen bed.
Not a bad way to start the weekend.
Friday had to move to Brooklyn the next day so she went home to pack her belongings.
Brunch.
So Twin and I met up with my somewhat famous artist friend that happened to be doing work at Madame Trousseau’s wax museum in Times Square. He met us for breakfast at a little Brassiere on 53rd that we found out that was open 24 hours a day. He had little French donuts, and red wine. Twin had eggs and a large coffee I had yogurt and granola and one of his donuts along with my big cup of coffee. We walked around town for a little bit, got rid of the artist who had to go do some research at the museum and Twin and I headed downtown to the West Village to hang out with my oh so glamorous, fabulous friend Perry. Perry who is gorgeous, intelligent and lives in the very posh part of town invited us over to lay out on his roof. Unlike the soho house to ascend to the roof deck one had to shimmy up the fire escape. We got our towels, our beer and our glamour and shimmied right up. All of New York was in front of us.
“Let me give my grrlsss the tour”. Perry started.
Twin beamed she already loved him as much as I did.
“There she is the empire state building. She sits right next to Ms. Chrysler building”. Perry often used the feminine instead the simple neutral and boring article “the”.
“And if you look closely”. He continued.
“Look toward those three buildings over dere, the small one on the left”. He stated.
“Dat is where Ms. Nicole Kidman lives”. He smiled.
Twin and I loved it. We ate lunch, laid out and drank really good Belgian beer Perry’s new drink thing. We left the west village drunk, tired, sun kissed and fabulous.
“How else she be”? I ask joo.
We went home and took a nap and woke up late. We got dressed. I dressed Twin in a beautiful black cotton dress that one of my Darling friends designed. We met Friday and Friday’s soon to be ex-room mate with her soon to be fiancé after he broke up with his soon to be ex-wife. Very Very confusing. We went to Martigenti’s a very European fun bar/restaurant in lets call it soho sud. It really is in Little Italy but we will ignore that slight detail since the place was in its own little world anyway.
I realized by the end of dinner that I had left my ATM card in the ATM this AM. Oh no. I had enough cash to pay my bill then I called my bank and put my funds on hold and went to the next bar. Since the soon to be fiancé of Friday’s soon to be ex roomie was from London we took gang to Puck Fair and upscale kind of pub in Soho proper. After a few pints we headed home.
Twin and I woke up, went to my favorite brunch spot in Harlem. I treated my twin and myself to a wonderful brunch. Since the weather had been perfect all weekend we decided to go for a walk in central park. We walked around the conservatory gardens. We joked about the soho house, kung foo shoes, somewhat famous artists and fire escapes.
We were truly lucky. The both of us. I took her to the subway where she made her way back downtown to get a bus and go home.
I had just received a text from Kung Foo Irving.
“Did you and DC have a nice time this weekend?” He asked.
“Best Weekend Ever” was my reply.
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