Month: December 2010

Merry Christmas from Sammy, Thora and I. If they would have just sat up like I asked…you wouldn’t be able to see that I have paint cans stored in my fireplace, and that my sideboard is in front of the fireplace. We had to do some rearranging to fit the chinchillas, who, by the way, don’t say Merry Christmas. They are too busy in their dust bath, where they have been for the past hour.

X (my husband) asked me yesterday what the title of my previous post meant and I think I was shocked. It’s a line from “Do They Know It’s Christmas.” All my titles come from song lyrics.   I thought the last post was obvious given the time of year and how often that song is being played. Oh well.

Anyway, my implication in the choice of title is not that we need to spread all our money all over the place and take care of everyone, but the recession and bank bailouts are still pretty fresh in everyone’s mind. Sympathy runs low for people who (may or may not) have thousands of dollars to spend on a purse when other people are suffering tremendously. Is it unfair to tell someone what they should or shouldn’t do with their money? Sure, in theory. But many of these people came by their wealth in not so honest ways. We found out a lot of people lied about a lot of things where other’s livelihoods were at stake and their own personal ones only stood to gain wealth because of it.

Remember how after September 11th, people were just nicer for a while? Eventually people returned to their former ways because you can’t grieve forever. But the recession is still happening. And it’s not going anywhere just yet – at least not for most of us. Most of us are still under water. Hopefully 2011 is better for everyone, and maybe next year if we find the same Christmas List on the Metro North, it won’t be as much of a shock.

My brother and I have decided not to exchange Christmas presents this year.   Instead, we are going to help someone in need. You know how they have those Christmas Lists that kids write and they get printed in the paper? Well, we got way lucky.   My brother found someone’s Christmas List on the Metro North, while commuting from NYC back to Connecticut! Actually, the guy who was sitting next to him forgot it when he was collecting the rest of his fancy Wall Street Investment Reports and got off the train in Mamaroneck.

I would like to propose that we all band together and get this poor girl the items from her “dream wish list.” I think this girl has really and truly embraced the spirit of Christmas. Her boyfriend already put notes next to everything so some of the legwork is even done for us!

Let’s pause for some commentary. I like how her poor, obviously long-suffering boyfriend, put a question mark next to bicycle and “whatever the newest Chanel makeup is (as long as I don’t already have it.)” What is this guy supposed to do? Look through your makeup bag, take notes, and then go to the counter and say “Give me everything newer than this?” I also love that she misspelled Kerastase and he inserted the “S.” He seems detail oriented. (I have a theory that there are two types of people in the world: Detail Oriented and Big Picture. Detail oriented are the ones who crunch the numbers, dot the I’s, cross the T’s, and make sure the bills are paid on time. They are your Assistants, Associates, Analysts, etc, and they do not typically make a lot of money. The Big Picture people are the geniuses who see the path to success, the ones who can make it all happen, the movers and shakers. A Big Picture person would dispense this nonsense list to his assistant to handle so he could go off to make more money.) I think “Ivana More Stuff” set her sights on someone who may not be able to pay for her lofty ambitions.

She also wants Louis Vuitton City Guides, which you can clearly get on the cheap by another publisher. Has she heard of Fodors? Frommers? Phonies? Okay, maybe not that last one. But, she wants classic literature cheap. In fact, that’s the only thing she is price sensitive to. Poor Dickens is rolling over in his grave right now.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

How…fitting.

Oh, and speaking of things that fit, on to the shoes!

I would love to post a picture of the Louboutins, however, those fuckers defied all previous fashion norms and managed to copyright that stupid red sole they have. I worked in Fashion for a few years and this is unprecedented! Designers just had to live with being knocked off. So, anyone who posts a picture of their shoes gets slammed with a copyright infringement notice. I will, however, give you this link.

Let’s keep going.

The purses. This bitch is so into purses. Men, please listen up. Any girl who obsesses this much over purses at this price level is wasting your time. There will always be some new, fancier, more expensive purse she needs to have – and don’t think it ends there. If $1000 purses don’t keep her appeased, she’ll be trading you like yesterday’s Louis in no time.   And if she’s spending all her time making lists for you with links to all the places you can find such purses, guess what she’s not doing? Yeah that’s right big guy. You’ll have to figure out how to make that thing throw up all by yourself.

I had to check the price on the Cartier Love Bracelet. While Cartier won’t give you prices, it does appear it is $6200 according to other websites. Yowsers. Honey, I know you’re living in a bubble…a purse and Cartier filled bubble with your noise canceling ear phones on, but we’re in a recession. R E C E S S I O N. Do you know how many people will claim less than $6200 in income this year on their taxes? Probably one for each perfectly coiffed hair on your head.

Last part of the list.

My dog and I are currently sharing a chenille blankie that set me back $29. I’m warm though. I wonder how much warmer I would be if I were under the fancy Hermes Orange blanket. Would I be $1096 warmer? I dunno.

All right. So we have a plan laid out in front of us. If 150 of us can each contribute a dollar to this poor thing, we can buy her the Smythson Passport Cover.

Who’s with me?

X and I have too many places to live and not enough jobs so we had to jettison his place in the burbs. He is supposed to be moving in with me this weekend. Supposed to be.

I know what you are thinking: What is this unconventional bullshit marriage where he lives in one state and she in another? Yes yes, I know. But for reasons that make sense only to us, (kids/schools/commuting issues) we decided to split our time in this fashion. My place is pretty small so I can’t exactly say I’ve been aching to have him move in with me. I was hoping that one of a few things would happen.

1) I would get a job in NY and we would move.
2) I would get a job in NY and we would move.
3) I would get a job in NY and we would move.

Kids, not only is getting a job in NY a damn near impossible feat when you’ve spent your career in real estate, but I think that the market up there has officially gone into hibernation for winter. Any lead I had for a job was “put on hold.” And I don’t want to take a job that is tenuous, I want something that is going to last, because I am not trying to break any records for having qualified for unemployment in the most states.   But, because there are kids, and schools to think of, we may have to go this summer no matter what. Of course I know what will happen. I’ll have a bunch of clients here and I won’t be able to leave. X and the kids will move up there and wait for my visits.

See. Everyone fucking gets to move to NY except me. I’ve been saying this for years. It’s really starting to piss me off.

Anyway, back to this move. We had everything scheduled for this weekend, and today the god damned elevator finally said “enough.” It’s officially sleeping for at least 10 days. I can’t say I blame it to be honest. I live in a building with a few dentists, and that elevator brings their lazy asses from 1 to 2 from 2 to 1 all. day. long. oh. my. god. take. the. fucking. stairs.

Normally the elevator thing wouldn’t bother us. In fact, we already got a bunch of boxes down to the car so we can get them out to Delaware. But we have to get my sleigh bed out, plus mattress and boxspring, and get his platform bed up here. I still didn’t draw the line here. I was willing to do this up and down the stairs. It’s at this point where the straw broke the camel’s back.

Oh? Have I not mentioned the chinchillas?

Arrgh. I cannot bring those monsters up the stairs in their cage. If we don’t keep the cage upright their poop will fly out and frankly, with the way I expect to be bitching, there’s a chance I’ll get rodent poop in my mouth. Then there’s the possibility that someone won’t have a good grip and they’ll go flying back down the stairs. So, no, they must be moved in the elevator.

They are so freaking cute but 2 people, 2 dogs and 2 chinchillas.

In 600 square feet.

I actually figured out we can just barely fit them in, but it involves storing furniture in the fireplace. I wish I were kidding.

Hey. Does anyone want 2 chinchillas? I don’t want to give them away but X is making me.