311: keep on Baracking in the free world
I’ve been too busy watching the Democratic National Convention to sit down and write a flip front. And there’s almost no need to comment on the Convention as, by the time you get this, it will be over. And Kevin finally started his blog at http//mybullypulpit.blogspot.com, which is chock full of DNC recaps and commentary. But where is the fashion? Why no words on the gorgeous ivory pinstriped suit sported by Michelle Obama Tuesday night? Or Teresa Heinz Kerry, ravishing in scarlet? Need I even go on about Chris Heinz who, when John Kerry is elected, should have “First Hottie” as his Secret Service nickname?
Oh but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I saw “Fahrenheit 9/11” Friday night, this time with Adrienne and Kevin. Beforehand, we had dinner at La Creperie and did our best to freak out the Trixie couple next to us who visibly balked when we started talking. Assholes. On the way into the theater, a couple of guys waving petitions asked us to “help beat Bush”. I asked “Sure — where is he?” which they seemed to think was funny.
I spent Saturday morning in a panicky shopping frenzy, trying to find shoes to wear to my fitting. My dress for Rozi’s wedding had finally arrived, and all I had to do was show up at Marshall Field’s with the bra and shoes I intended to wear. Of course, I thought I had to buy new shoes, and I did, but then I realized I had the perfect shoes at home all along. I couldn’t return the shoes I’d already bought (I’ll just wear them when Jacinda gets married next weekend) so I sucked it up and sucked it in for my fitting.
At Field’s, the salon was having a Vera Wang trunk show. Made my way past the Trixie trying on strapless gowns in duchesse satin with ballgown skirts into a small room attended by an Eastern European woman named Alicia. I stepped into the dress — very lovely lilac dupioni silk — and zipped up the back. It fit, and I didn’t even need the extra fabric provided by the manufacturer. Maybe I’ll get one of those body skimmy things that rearranges your body into a more-pleasing shape, but it looked fine. I paid Alicia to shorten the sleeves, and waited out front while she got my receipt. While I waited, another Trixie modeled a gown for another set of parents, standing on a small platform in front of a three-way mirror and waving to imaginary subjects.
I tried to take a nap later that afternoon. Couldn’t do it. Instead, I watched television and did laundry so I’d have something comfortable yet pretty to wear that evening. Something that would work both at Damien’s birthday dinner at Mexican restaurant built is a replica of a hacienda – with a disco ball, of course – and at a housewarming party in a downtown high-rise with views of the fireworks at Millennium Park. Kevin and I split a cab down to the restaurant, which featured oil paintings of Spanish ladies and more terra cotta than you could shake a stick at. The dining room chairs were heavy dark wood, and had high backs that the waiters almost had to climb just to put plates down. After wondering where everybody was, we found that Damien’s friends were already seated all the way at the end of the room, under a hammered copper replica of Diego Rivera’s ‘Flower Day’.
Damien, of course, was late, so we awaited his arrival with a handful of margaritas, guacamole, and salsa. Dinner was fun, though we were sad that it was too early for mariachis to stroll the dining room and serenade us while we feasted on fajitas, tacos, and salmon. Eventually, the room filled with diners, mostly large family parties where the children ran from one lap to another and the young men sported cowboy hats and serious boots. Our waiter hustled, but it still took twenty minutes to get the check. The boys were off to the L & L for drinks, and Kevin and I got a cab to Jen’s housewarming.
Jen’s building employs the nicest lady in the world to work at its front desk. Kevin told me Jen said she was the reason why she moved in, though once I got up to Jen’s apartment on the 41st floor, I could see that a killer view of downtown couldn’t hurt. I didn’t know too many folks, but I immediately recognized Joe and Jacinda talking to Jen’s hilarious neighbors, and Sienna sporting serious cleavage. And Jeff in a very yummy striped button-down shirt. Jen’s friends got really drunk really quickly, so I spent the majority of the evening laughing at them, eating gummy bears, and trying not to have vertigo when I’d step onto the balcony for a smoke. I like to say that I don’t have a fear of heights, but from 41 stories up everything on the street looks very small and far away.
Next day: supas brunch. Kathy, Kevin, Adrienne, Thom, me. Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Bagels and lox from the good place in Skokie. A pound of bacon (to balance out all the carbs). A pot of coffee from Peet’s. Much talk about Thom’s current psychiatry rotation, and the little job club that I’m going to start with Kathy and Kevin. I also came up with a name for my production company (Second Banana Productions) but I looked it up on imdb.com and found that a company that makes educational videos starring chimpanzees already has it. Bastards.
DNC: Missed most of Al Gore and Al Sharpton, but caught all of John Edwards, Barack Obama (hurrah!), Mike Honda, Howard Dean, Bill Clinton, Hillary Clinton, and wee little Ilana Wexler. I’m glad to see that Barack is getting national media coverage, and not just on Salon.com. I’m seeing an Obama/Clinton (doesn’t matter which one) in 2012, and maybe Wexler for president in 2034? Let me know what you think. Speech transcripts and videos are on the New York Times web site at http://www.nytimes.com/2004/07/26/politics/campaign/26TEXT-SPEECHES.html. Kevin’s blog has recaps and thoughts — and a guest appearance from Alfonse D’Amato — at http://mybullypulpit.blogspot.com.
LL Cool J – Doin It; The Normal – Warm Leatherette; Delaney & Bonnie – Comin’ Home; Rufus Wainwright – Waiting for a Dream; Belle & Sebastian – If She Wants Me; Kylie Minogue – Sweet Music;