Books are for kids

So I've been on another writing binge and it's about time, cause I've been too busy with my social life to devote enough time to writing. I've got nearly 100 pages already, and let's just say that this book is much more literary and more in line with the type of book I've always wanted to write. Kind of a Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing meets Sex and the City. It feels good to be writing again, though I'm hoping this one won't require the services of my talented but expensive attorneys.

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!

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.

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.

Enjoy!
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.

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.

More pics

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.

Downtown/Uptown

Sightings

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.

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.

Birthday Blues

19 days till the big 3-0. I don't know what exactly I expect to happen on this day--head will explode, looks will fade at lightning pace, grim reaper will come to collect?--but I am completely freaked out by this route marker. I've always been a little obsessed with the significance of insignificant things I suppose, but at the same time, 30 is a big deal any way you look at it. I feel that I have very little to show for my three decades here on earth, and that, that is the real heart of the issue. Hence my need to vacate the country for the week of the big day and to be with my rocking family who puts up with my incessant bullshit. Thank God for my family and friends ...

I think I may need to cut back on the alcohol intake/going out, as my mind is literally tabula rasa right now. Pictures are the best I can come up with. Tonight is my first night in in I can't remember how long, and am looking forward to the Six Feet Under rerun. On the other hand, I know in a couple hours I'll be bored again and itching to go out. Sigh. Why can I not sit still these days?

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

Why does insomnia, like allergies, come on late in life? I used to be able to sleep for a solid ten hours a night. Now, I'm lucky if I can cram in 6 or 7 hours. I cannot shut off my brain at night, which has something to do with it. What the other part of the equation is I don't really know. Have cut back on the caffeine, work out religiously, eat right, etc. WTF? I just want my eight hours. Was up till 4:30 last night and out the door this a.m. by 7:30. Now, this would be fine if I actually had a day job, but since I don't, I'm completely useless in the morning. I caught up on e-mail, did some banking, etc. but now am totally crashing and am not a good napper. Must fix this insomnia thing. Help!!! Realize this is the most boring post ever, but my brain is functioning at half capacity, if that. Grrrr.

O Brother Where Art Thou?

Little brother finally returns this weekend and am very excited to have a familial voice of reason back on the island of Manhattan. Though he refuses to live with me and my yappy dog, despite the fact that I would actually move downtown for him.

Bellow my Beating Heart

OK, so I'm reading Saul Bellow's collected stories for the first time. Now I see what all the fuss was about when he passed away. I've got to admit I missed many of the classics. (Hey, I went to public high school--in Florida, OK? Cut me some slack.) I'm about halfway through "What Kind of Day Did You Have" and it sustained me for four miles running on the treadmill yesterday. If I can forget about the fact that I'm on the treadmill, sweating my ass off, running a nine-minute mile, then I know I've found a literary keeper. It really is incredible how great writing transcends time and even history. The relationship in this story is as real and relatable as any of my own and my friends' relationships in 2005. I only hope that one day I can write a mere sentence that accomplishes such a feat. And the best part is that I picked it up for a measly $5 on a street cart outside my corner wine shop.

Ghetto Editing

Friends, Family and Faith

I received a note from my BFF today (pictured above at her obviously raucous bachelorette party), which, upon reading, brought me to tears and made my just-applied mascara run, but also made me appreciate how lucky and absolutely blessed I am to have such awesome, generous and incredible friends and family. Sooo bored and brain dead at "work" right now, that I'm just going to post random pictures of my wonderful family and BFF. Plus, I can't freaking post pictures from my Macintosh! Hellooo? What is up with that?

Calling Out Dos Caminos Philanderer

First of all, please excuse all the random pics. Have just acquired digi cam for the first time and am loving it.
At Dos Caminos Friday night with moms (above) and three friends. I'm being my usual exuberant, animated (and apparently loud) self, whilst dining and catching up on the week's events. A few sangria pitchers are being shuffled around the table as well. Sitting next to us are two men in their mid-thirties or early-forties. I notice them looking over at our table throughout our meal, but nothing out of the ordinary.
At the end of their meal, the older of the two, seated next to me, leans in and says, "I just have to tell you that listening to you talk all-night has been more entertaining than any television show." Oh-kay, I think, and my friends and mom giggle politely. I had noticed that these two men hadn't actually been talking that much during their meal, but had not realized that they'd been eavesdropping on our entire conversation over the duration of a couple of hours.
"Well," I retort, naturally taken aback, "I am a writer, so I suppose that is a compliment. Just don't quote me on anything you overheard tonight."
"Oh, I promise this is off-the-record, heh, heh," he responds lecherously. Eww.
They get up to leave, and my friend J. says, "Steph, you do realize that for most of the meal that guy had his wedding band on his finger but when he started talking to you he removed it?"
Double eww. No, actually, I hadn't realized that.
"Very observant of you J. I never notice stuff like that; I guess I need to be a little more on the lookout for that sort of thing?"
"Yeah," piped in my other friend S. "They were both checking you out the whole night."
I understand a little harmless flirting if you are married, but at least have the decency to be upfront about it. I mean, what, did he think that by removing his wedding band my girls and I would be all up in his stuff? I don't think so. Maybe I'm entirely too naive; but maybe his wife should, like, tattoo on a nice, graphic wedding band. I found the whole encounter very creepy. Cut to Monday eve, when I'm buying my dinner for work at Gourmet Garage and the very same married/not-so-married man was behind me in line, again, trying to flirt with me while I was paying and talking on my cell phone. "Look at this one," he says to the cashier and to me, "An accomplished multi-tasker, paying and talking on the phone." I look at him in horror, roll my eyes and scurry out of there as fast as I can.
WTF? Why is NYC only a small city when it comes to really creepy circumstances such as these?

Mom Rocks, Part Two

Told mom this a.m. that I was having a shitty week and was in need of major retail therapy and this was her response:
"Move over Dr. Phil; it is SHOPPING therapy time!!!  We can do that!  My
color appointment is at noon; haircut at 3pm.  Your haircut is 2:15 pm.
I'm leaving around 8 pm Sunday, so we have all day.  Think about where
we should go, what you need, etc."
Bergdorf's, Barneys and Blandi—just what the doctor ordered.

Awoke this morning to find dog vomit in two separate, yet equally distasteful areas, on my pricey silk duvet cover. I love my little Pomeranian/Poodle mix, Wally, to death. But I do not relish cleaning up after him constantly. Dude is 10 years old, you'd think he'd have his movements under control by now. But no, he's been vomiting up a storm lately. The best I can figure is that in my overzealous effort to rid my house of all traces of food after having spotted a little mouse about a month ago, some bleach must have crept into his bag of Nutro hard food. Hence his persistent vomiting over the past week. The nastiness was caked into the duvet cover, and this was after I'd come home last night at 2 a.m. to find similar type vomit on my rug. Alas, I'd had enough Wally vomit to last me a while. I promptly tossed the duvet cover down the garbage chute, stripped the bed, and headed to Bed, Bath and Beyond. I was in a pissy mood already this afternoon when I awoke, having been unable to order Entourage and Six Feet Under on HBO On Demand when I returned home from work last night. WTF is with HBO On Demand this week? I'm dying to see Six Feet Under!! Is Nate dead or what?? Anywho, I was on a linen-buying rampage today and made some lovely purchases. Moreover, my bedroom area had been out of sorts for weeks anyway, as the maintenance men who installed my new bed had put it in the wrong way, so that the headboard was blocking the TV and my dresser. So, having skipped my daily workout, I decided, upon returning home, to do some manual labor and succeeded in turning around my entire bed so that now the headboard is in the correct place and I can once again peacefully watch TV from the comfort of my newly-outfitted bed. And all this without a man to help--ha! Women rock. The above picture is of my new sleeping area/bed, which hopefully will be sans vomit for a while.