Friday, September 30, 2005

Slumming it with Society

I didn't even know Arnold Scaasi was still alive, but there he was, kicking it with all the boldfaced names at the Second Annual Fete de Swifty on Monday night. A circus-themed (?) charity gala held in a tent between 3rd and Lex on 73rd street, this party was chock full of the most powerful, most photographed people in New York society. It made for more interesting people-watching than an afternoon in the Bergdorf's shoe dept. Not too many Jews running around, either, or, certainly not many my age. We did manage to find some young guys to hang out with, most of whom were perfectly nice and fun. Some of whom needed to have the poles surgically removed from their posteriors. The more I get to know these "society" types, the more apparent a few things are: 1. They are all pretty much miserably unhappy 2. They are almost entirely artificial 3. They are utterly bored and utterly boring 4. They are insecure and insulated.
So we go to the official after party for the junior set, held in one of those Eurotrashy private clubs, and hold down the fort until about 1 a.m. Then we head to another, even more "exclusive" private club on the UES, save for the fact that nobody is manning the door at either one of these places so really anybody not wearing a garbage bag can gain entree. And, oh yeah, I have absolutely no clue what the Paris Hilton cutout was all about!

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Birthday Adieu

I REALLY loathe my own birthdays, but this year both my birthday celebrations were fabulous, thanks to my fantastic friends and my family. In Bermuda, the actual night of my 30th was characterized by much debauchery and included a group of rowdy Canadians skinny-dipping, hotel security for two separate resorts and a search party sent out by my parents involving the mother of a bride whose wedding was at our resort. What can I say? I like to have fun, and I ushered out my twenties with quite a bang. Frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way. My NYC celebration was much more tame and just included dinner and drinks in the Meatpacking area, but was a good time nonetheless. The party continues tomorrow night at the Fete de Swifty, which will be a different kind of good time altogether.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Karma, Schwarma

I used to believe in karma, until the last couple of years. And until I started working for this particularly pervy, malicious, unhappy, deceitful sexual harasser. After finding out he'd been slandering my (fairly) good name around the office, I was forced to resign this week. Behold my fiery resignation letter, in response to which the company says it will not investigate this fuckwit because of my "vague" accusations, and the fact that I didn't complain while I was there (though I did, some years ago, along with legions of other young, attractive females). Also, on a happier note, more Bermuda pics.

I, Stephanie Green, a longtime editor and writer who has been with XXX practically since the company's inception, will be resigning as of today due to a hostile and disciminatory environment created and carried out by Mr. XXX, managing editor.
Mr. XXX, during his tenure, has been responsible for driving out several (at least six or seven by my count) female employees due to his inappropriate office behavior and manner of dealing with subordinates.
In addition to doing such unacceptable things as asking out, hitting on and touching his female subordinates (myself included), over a period of four years, Mr. XXX has used his position of "power" to manipulate people's schedules and positions, punitively demoting editors to writers or loggers due to personal animus on his part. In this day and age of class action lawsuits and stringent sexual harrassment policies, it is simply unfathomable how Mr. XXX has continued to maintain his position within your company, Mr. YYY, given that he presents an extreme liability should myself and other employees he has negatively affected decide to take action against him.
I will, in the immediate future, be sending a letter to you, Mr. YYY, detailing the long list of greivances myself and other former employees have against Mr. XXX, in attempt to bring to light his misdeeds perpertrated under the guise of his position as an editor.
It should especially concern you, Mr. YYY, that the very editors and writers Mr. XXX has been responsible for driving out, are the most qualified, well-educated and dedicated employees your company has had on the production side. Given the overall disorganization of the nightly production staff, one would think that a company such as yours would put a premium on retaining the most talented and knowledgeable staff. I hope that in the very near future Mr. XXX will be investigated, as he is directly responsible for any decline in productivity, data and functioning of the nightly production staff.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Boozy in Bermuda

Drinking, eating, sunning, swimming, scandalizing, laughing and partying (perhaps a little too hard at the end) all made for a fabulous week in Bermuda. And I certainly left my twenties with quite a bang. Aside from the fact that I may have caused an island-wide scandal, it was a pretty relaxing vacay, so relaxing, in fact, that for the first time ever I found myself dreading returning to the hustle and bustle of NYC. But now I am back, running around like crazy, with no time to spare, and it feels like I never left. Now I'm glad to be back with friends and crazy street people and smells and shopping and the media and all those heady, scary, wonderful things that make New York New York.

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Good-bye to all that

In some ways I'm leaving my twenties in New York on a high note--took in the Bill Blass show today, my first true Fashion Week experience. A veritable who's who of New York society, fashion and power. Yet, eh, as with all superficial pursuits, left feeling emptier than to start.

Sunday, September 04, 2005


Since I'm bored and brain dead and at "work," I figured I'd start listing celeb sightings and musings. Lunching at Bubby's today, spotted a rather portly Emil Wilbekin, formerly (me thinks) of Vibe mag. Also, a scruffy, but adorable, David Schwimmer, clad in baseball cap with not-so-attractive female companion. The city is soo empty this weekend that the old fogeys are crossing the streets in slow motion uninterrupted. I've never noticed so many old people wandering the streets before, it's like all their offspring abandoned them for the weekend or something. Weird. Anywho, out last night in Meatpacking, could swear was the only Manhattanite for miles. At the Gansevoort, personal space impeded by screeching Midwesterners, saccharine-sweet Southerners, underage highschoolers, Israelis, Italians and hordes of bridge-and-tunnelers. Thank God have vacation coming up, or would've have been really depressed to be in city this weekend. As it stands now, just hoping hurricanes steer clear of sunny Bermuda in the forthcoming week.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

RIP Betsy Green

Good, sweet, adorable, kind, spirited, wise, 18-year-old Lhasa apso Betsy Green was put to rest today. Betsy was the most rocking dog ever, and, if cloning for canines were available, the Greens would've replicated this sweet animal ages ago. I still remember the day we got Betsy--at an un-PC pet store, like all our other dogs. I was in sixth grade, we'd just moved into our new house, and mom and I just waltzed into a pet store, fell in love with Bets, and walked out with her in tow. I also still remember my mom on the phone in the laundry room with my dad, telling him that we'd just made a rather life-changing impulse buy.
"What? Another diamond?" dad probably asked mom. "Noo, we got a dog," mom replied, and the rest was history.
We chose her name from a school directory, I believe. And, in fact, I chose my dog's name from my temple directory. Yeah, we're a little odd. We eventually mated Betsy with my aunt's Lhasa, who was a bit nutso, and the result of that coupling was Lou Lou, who also passed earlier this year. Lou Lou was loveable and adorable, too, but Betsy was always the star. And I'm sure she'll be sitting pretty and docile and kind in that great dog run in the sky, wherever that may be. Love ya, Bets--you set an impossible example for other household pets to live up to. God knows Wally pales in comparison.