>I’ve been making the same points as Jimmy Carter did during his interview with Katie Couric. Difference is he is much more eloquent than I and is also a former president as opposed to some chick in New York who gets her news from the NY Post. Anyway, I know you’ve been craving my opinion on Iraq, so read the whole transcript here and let President Carter say it for me.
Real Live Mermaids!
Last night was surreal. I joined Nick Bayne of Relevant Entertainment and Christian Finnegan for the re-launch of the Coral Room. We were special guests and as such got a “see and be seen” VIP table complete with complementary table service. We chose Belvedere Vodka with all the fixins and settled in to our plush seats and view of the 9,000 gallon fish tank with mermaids swimming about. It is seriously surreal to see a woman “dancing” in the water with a bunch of fish.
Every now and again a photographer would come by and take our photo. Christian is not quite used to all this attention, but enjoyed himself nonetheless, especially when some woman nearby started dancing a not-so-private dance to her dorky date prompting Nick to query, “How the hell does a guy like that get a chick like her?”
Who Needs a Mirror When You Live in New York?
I don’t have a good mirror in my apartment and I don’t have “fun” with fashion, so I tend to go with the tried and true: jeans and a top, pencil skirt & a sweater, slacks and a button down…you get the picture. I bought a pair of beige wool, pinstripe pants the other day but had no clue if they looked right on me. I wore them anyway and felt okay about them. Then I passed a group of black men who went crazy the second I passed them. “That was a well spent $79. These slacks are keepers,” I thought. But Christian wisely noted that they would have gone crazy even if I had been wearing spandex, sweatpants, etc. Good point.
Almost three years ago to the day, I bought a faux-wrap, black & white graphic print dress on Ebay. It fits well, but the print is very bold, and when it comes to fashion, I’m not. So, this dress has lived in my closet collecting dust but still surviving the occasional purging of the old to make room for the new. Today I said the hell with it. I’m going to wear it and let the People of the City of New York have their say. I walked confidently but got nothing more than the standard smatterings of street compliments, lots of “Good mornings” and “Well, hellllooo”s, but nothing that told me that this dress was a knockout and that I wouldn’t some day see my black-barred image appear as a Glamour “don’t”. The horror! As I waited on the corner across from my building, a man stopped cold in his tracks, put his hand on my elbow and said, “I just want you to know — and since I’m an old man it’s okay — that is one fabulous dress!”
It’s like that guy crawled inside my head and knew this poor dress hadn’t gotten a fair shake. I don’t need to buy a full length mirror, at all. I just need to step outside and let y’all be the judge. I’m just sad I wasted three years of getting that kind of feel good feedback from a random stranger. I’m totally wearing this dress to work, clean house, the deli, walk Paquita and pick up poop, day and night, in bed, out of bed, all over the place.
Answer to Nick: Money.