The Gates

Last weekend Jules, Danny and I went to see The Gates at (in?) Central Park. All in all we ended up having a really nice day. The weather was sunny, although a little nippy, but the exhibit was really amazing. I have never seen so many people in Central Park before.

The exhibit itself was pure art. It exists purely to make you think. I think I was most amazed at how many "gates" there really were (over 23 miles worth). Mostly, they are spaced about 5 -8 feet apart and in later reflection I realized that they have to be that close together in order to make such a high impact. After an hour or two you longer even see The Gates, they just become a fixture in the park.

Danny, amazingly enough, had never been to Central Park before. He is an amazing photographer and, of course, took pictures of everything: The Gates, the people, the statues, trees and Jules and I. Jules and I mostly people watched (read: lamented over the fact that all the hot guys were with their male lovers).

The Artists Jeanne-Claude and Christo have been wanting to do this project for a while and finally received permission from Mayor Michael Bloomberg (yes, that Bloomberg) who felt that the project would draw alot of people into the city, thus resulting in added revenue. I gotta say, Mike is a damn financial genius (Mike, call me! Let's discuss economic theory - I have lots of good ideas). The park was completely packed. Part of the reason we were there for such a long time is because the flow of traffic was so damn slow.

Either way, you have one last weekend to go see The Gates, before they vanish. It's worth the trek into the city. And if you see Mike, tell him to call me.

Chinese Laundry Cutie

Dear Chinese Laundry,

I love the shoes you make. So cute! So Whimsical! So Sexy! However, there seems to be a problem. You have neglected to produce shoes in size 9 1/2. I will admit that my feet are a little on the large side. You make shoes in size 9, 10, 11, but no 9 1/2. Why, Chinese Laundry? WHY?? Size 9 shoes are too small and size 10 are entirely too large. Let's compromise, shall we?

I have been coveting this shoe for at least three months. The Chinese Laundry Cutie is my favorite shoe of the season. It would pair so well with my wardrobe, however, you refuse to make it my size. I have money and I would love to give you some of it (I want 2 pairs - black and pink). Help me to help you (and call me when you start producing larger shoes).

Thanks,
Nadine

PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE RANTS

To the jackass in the gold Honda Civic that cut me off on the New Jersey Turnpike yesterday:

I will not blast your license plate number all over the internet (you should consider this a personal favor), however, I feel compelled to advise you to learn how to drive in inclimate weather. Under no circumstances should you ever drive across three lanes of traffic and cut off a driver in the left lane that is driving 65 mph. This is especially important to remember if you decide to decrease your speed to 40 mph once you arrive in the left lane. This generally tends to piss people off and since New Jersey rates slightly high on the Road Rage Scale I would advise you rethinking your strategy. Next time you may cut off someone whose disposition is less sunny than my own, thereby resulting in any number of possible unfortunate incidents for you.

To my boss:

If you ask me to do you a favor (that, by the way, I gladly did for you) by completing (YOUR) work for you according to the very detailed instructions that you left me, please do not later complain to me that I left something out. The task was completed to your exact specifications. Please do not tell me the next day that you forgot to mention something but thought I would “automatically know that you wanted to include something extra” in it. I am not clairvoyant. If you say, “Please follow these instructions EXACTLY”, and I do, don’t complain about it. From now on do your own fucking work and leave me alone.

To my parents:

Mom? Dad? There really is no nice way to say this, but I have to ask. Do you know anything at all about me? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but whenever I get a gift from you I wonder what made you think that it was something that I would want, need and/or like. For example: what is it about me that would make you think I would want a yellow wool sweater? I haven’t worn the color yellow in at least 10 years (or any other bright color for that matter) and I have repeatedly told you that wool itches (let’s not even talk about the hassle of having to take it to the dry cleaner). I also recall telling you on several occasions that I would prefer it if you did not buy me kitchen chairs, however, you’ve done that too. Your generosity knows no bounds and yes, I realize that there are starving children in Africa, but please. Stop buying me things. If you ABSOLUTELY have to spend money on me please check out my Amazon wish list (I know that you know I have an Amazon wish list, we’ve discussed it); lots of books and CDs. I’m a simple girl and I don’t want anything frou-frou, ‘kay?

To my brother:

If you aren’t a little more forthcoming with the money you owe me I will come for you. Yes, I realize that it is only $100.00, but I want it back. If your slacker ass can’t pay back $100.00 that you borrowed 7 months ago, then I am not your biggest problem. Just don’t lie to me. I know where you live.

Recent comments from the folks in my life

From my boss:

“Let me tell you where you should go to meet a man”

Please note this was UNSOLICITED ADVICE. I work in a small, tight knit office with few social barriers. That said I should note that I have neither asked for advice on where to meet a man nor expressed an interest in wanting to meet a man. What was he really trying to tell me?

At the make-up counter:

“You’d be such a pretty girl if only you would do something with those eyebrows”

I always buy my make-up from the same person. She is great but never fails to admonish me for not plucking. As long as I don’t have a unibrow, who cares?

From my mother:

“I wish I had your disposition when it comes to cleaning the house”

My mother is a germ-o-phobe who comes to my house with white gloves. Seriously. She thinks it’s horrible that I only dust once a week.

From my father:

“Ya gotta test drive the car before you buy it”

I started hearing this phrase from my father at the age of 16, and yes, he was advocating sex much earlier than I ever considered having sex. OK, not “much” earlier.

From my other boss:

“Your Tourret’s is acting up again”

It’s true – I often make the mistake of saying exactly what is on my mind without thinking about other people’s feelings. Fuck them! See, there I go again.

From the Big E:

“You should go ahead, spend the money and buy another Accord. After all, that car lasted you longer than any of your relationships and was much more dependable than any boyfriend you ever had”

This was what he said when I asked him what kind of car he thought I should buy.