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Promises to My Future Fiance

May 21, 2012 by Kathleen

It’s wedding season, and that means my weekly serving of Sunday Styles is healthier that usual. It’s also the year of my first milestone college reunion. This means I’m officially hitting that life phase when it’s not only strangers announcing their marriages in the Sunday Styles, it’s my friends.

As I watch more and more people I know prepare to “take the plunge” and as I plan my dress-rotation for the upcoming onslaught of receptions and nuptial exchanges, I’ve decided I’d better take note and make some lists for when it’s my turn…

Dear Future Fiance,

I will not make you sit through a staged engagement album photo-shoot that makes us look like a straight-from-the-pages-of-a-Brooks-Brothers-catalog-couple named Chip and Muffy.

This will just never be us.

I mean, yes, it would be nice to have some professional, candid photos of us for the requisite “save the date” cards or NYTimes wedding announcements, but none of that jumping in the air, fake laughing at something “cute” the other person said while wearing polo shirts, khakis and pearls stuff.

Let’s keep it real, baby.

I will not post every dress/hairstyle/shoe idea for our wedding on a board on Pintrest.

My Pintrest page is for everything, except my wedding.

I’m kinda obsessed with Pintrest. That recipe for the “skinny” chocolate-chip scones. The Burberry Prorsum dress I dropped 2 paychecks on. My favorite painting in that exhibit I went to last week. Sure — that’s all fair game. But when it comes to weddings, it’s about decisions… and excel spreadsheets or powerpoints are more useful for that. Besides,  if you can’t see my wedding dress until I walk down the aisle, no one can.

I will ask your opinion about the color scheme. And what color tux you should wear. And where we should have the reception… but I’m not asking for your opinion on the flowers.

You’ve never been great at buying me flowers, so let me pick those out for our wedding.

Let’s be honest — whether the centerpieces are cascading roses or submerged orchids probably doesn’t matter all that much to you. I organize events,  so those sorts of details do matter to me — whether it’s a wedding or a gallery opening. But it probably does matter to you where we celebrate with our guests — our friends and our family — and what breed of penguin you look like.

A wedding is about Us, after all, not about a 5-year old girl’s fairytale fantasy.

I won’t partake in the annual “Running of the Brides.”

Even though I’ve been contemplating joining the roller derby, this will not be me when I go wedding dress shopping. I promise.

As endearing as you find my competitive streak and my knack for trash-talking opposing teams, the last thing you want to see me do is shop for my wedding dress roller-derby style.

I won’t give you “that look” when you tell me the “boyz” have booked tickets to Vegas for your bachelor party.

That’s fine. I’ll even pack the suitcase for you. Because, baby, I’ve got plans of my own…

Just don’t come back married to someone else, with a tattoo on your face, or with anything communicable. If you don’t remember what happened, that’s probably for the best… but please check in with our GP before our honeymoon.

With Love,

Kathleen

Posted in Dating | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Some Weekends, I wish I wasn’t a Sports Fan

May 9, 2012 by Kathleen

These are the kind of headlines I’m used to as a New York sports fan…

When it comes to reading the newspaper, I tend to leave out all the sections that highlight “bad” news: News, Business, International, and frequently, Metropolitan. When I’m done sorting “bad” news sections from “good” news pages, I’m left with Sports and Arts/Style. Probably, to most people it would seem I get very little “real” news at all from my daily New York Times. Of course I beg to differ.

Sports and Art are the core of my being and the principle sources of my income, after all.

When you’re a New York sports fan, you’re not used to getting bad news. Mediocre news. Tragic news. Great news. Yes, all of those. But not bad news. And certainly not bad news on a regular basis about all your favorite teams at once. It’s one of the great advantages to being in a metro area with a professional sport franchise in every division in every league — even when one team in one sport is having a losing streak, another team in another (and sometimes the same) sport is on a winning run.

But then Mariano Rivera twisted his knee.

It was the domino that started the cascade. Sure, a day later the front page of the section ran with that quintessential photo of Mo running to the field from the bullpen and the headliner quote: “I’m coming back. Write it down in big letters.”

But that was the only spark of good news.

Rangers Fall Flat

Bats Go Quiet as Yankees Lose Again

For Rangers, Questions and Negative Answers

End is Likely for Knicks

Back when the Knicks Won One

I felt like someone had swapped out my Sunday Sports for the week’s Wall Street Recap. Were these articles secretly about Enron and Goldman Sachs? Because surely, they couldn’t be about my Yanks and Rangers!?

Luckily, by Tuesday, thanks to an overtime goal and 10 runs in Kansas City, the sports section is once again safe to read and chock full of good news.

Posted in Adventure, Bio Pics, New York City | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

I’ll be Your Government Hooker

May 2, 2012 by Kathleen

It's not easy being the Good Wife to a Bad Politician.

“How do you feel about being a politician’s wife?”

My eyes bugged out and my first instinct was to laugh. But when I saw his face and realized he was dead serious, I paused to consider the weight of what he was asking.

“If you’re worried that I might take a naked picture of you while you sleep and post it on the internet, I can assure you, I have more tact than that…”

His “Phew!” was followed by the necessary tension breaking laugh.

“I promise, any naked pictures I take of you will be for personal use only.”

He stopped laughing.

I hate men that can’t take a joke.

It was our first real date but our third meeting — mutual friends had played matchmaker at a party and then tricked us into joining them at a group outing. Their theory was that you couldn’t fashion a better power couple than the girl who wanted to be Director of the Museum of Modern Art and the boy who wanted to be President of the United States. Indeed, we had comparable pedigrees — he was military turned Ivy League Lawyer — and comparable ambitions. We liked people. We both appreciated the necessity of networking at cocktail parties. Neither one of us could deny that, when together, there was enough Jack & Jackie + Barack & Michelle to make us a formidable pair.

And so we agreed to a solo dinner.

Yet, while the idea of walking in Michelle Obama’s shoes certainly wasn’t unappealing, the truth was, why would I want to be a First Lady when I could be president?

More importantly, I don’t have the stomach for an American political life. I hate the way American politics is played out in the popular media. In particular, I hate election years. I hate watching mud-slinging and dick measuring on television. I hate the way feminism is revived, racism is reevaluated and then both are forgotten come December. I hate the way rhetoric and ignorance put words in the mouths of our founding fathers.

At the end of the evening, it wasn’t because I wasn’t willing to be his government hooker that Mr. Future Councilman and I weren’t going to make it, though I can’t say I have plans to be any politician’s Good Wife…

Posted in Bio Pics, Dating | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

The Men Who have Come/Gone/Stayed and our Fictional Couple Alter-Egos

April 27, 2012 by Kathleen

We read like a Jane Austen novel... except for the fact he's marrying someone else.

“Your relationship with Greg reads like a Jane Austen novel,” Dani observed. “You’ll probably end up with him. In an over-sized, creepy stone house in the English country side.”

Greg and I did sound a lot like a Jane Austen novel — Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet, to be precise. A meeting that started with a snub. But eventually unavoidable interaction, blinding prejudice and wounded pride gave way to inescapable endearment and genuine affection. But 3 years after our romance began to bloom, Greg is a successful Boston-based consultant engaged to a lovely Harvard med student. Their professionally-photographed facebook engagement album makes me throw-up a little every time I look at it.

It was Greg’s engagement album and the subsequent flashback to that remark from Dani that got me thinking: if Greg and I were Lizzy and Darcy, then for every relationship I’ve ever had, there is surely a corresponding fictional couple.

A Former Prospect: Kathleen Kelly & Joe Fox, “You’ve Got Mail”

It started online. Like Kathleen & Joe, we share a love of books, old and new. I’m the firey, independent shopkeeper. He’s the business man with a golden retriever and a hidden mushy side. Through emails, we slowly became trusted confidants.

We were a Joe & Kate, right down to the central park meeting. Luckily, his gallery didn't put mine out of business

And then one day we met in Central Park.

“I hoped it would be you.”

Cue tissue box.

In the movie Kathleen and Joe were the total antithesis of each other outside their protective digital bubble, — he even put her out of business. Luckily, my Joe’s gallery won’t put mine out of business.

A Recent Fling: Carrie & Mr. Big, “Sex & The City”

He was the several years my senior high-rolling businessman with a predilection for runway models and a chronic commitment problem while I’m the curly-haired, fashion-focused relationship blogger. To my friends, he’s known as “My Favorite Mistake.” All signs pointed to a train wreck, and yet, we couldn’t resist each other.

Unfortunately, much like Carrie and Big, neither one was very good at saying “no” to the other… even if he is a republican. Luckily, it didn’t take us 5 years to figure out we were a deadend.

The good friend: Kermit the Frog and Fozzie the Bear

They're a classic combination

“I had a dream about the event,” he said to me. “I don’t remember what happened, but I remember running around trying to find you because I needed you to fix something.”

“Are you sure it was a dream? That sounds an awful lot like  last Tuesday.”

He laughed, and we continued to discuss plans for the redux version of an old collaboration.

“I feel like Kermit getting the band back together!”

“If you’re Kermit, does that make me Fozzy?” I replied.

“Wacka, wacka!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

The One I’m Holding out For: Nick & Kate, “No Reservations”

Nick thinks Kate’s the best chef in town and is happy playing sous-chef to her executive chef. Their styles are somewhat conflicting, but their partnership is deliciously well-balanced perfection.

Just like Kate, I'm holding out for a partner in crime like Nick


Posted in Bio Pics, Dating | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Some Call it Art. Some Call it Just Another Day at the Office. I call it Training for the Amazing Race.

April 18, 2012 by Kathleen

Without fail, every season on the Amazing Race, there’s a challenge in which teams have to carry heavy, awkward things over long distances. I’ve always wanted to be on the Amazing Race and so I watch each episode with half a mind focused on how to prepare for when it’s my turn. But carrying heavy awkward thing over long distances is not the kind of thing you can easily train for.

Living as an art handler is like training to be an elite athlete.

Unless of course you’re an art handler.

Standing in the storage area of my gallery Tuesday morning were two 6-foot canvases. They were awaiting transport to an off-site location where my team was installing an affiliated exhibition. Given that I have a compact SUV with moving blankets in the back, I was the designated transport.

“Are you going to bring your car around?” my assistant asked.

My car was parked half a mile away. Down a hill.

“No. I’ll just carry them to the car.”

I ignored her doubtful/cautionary expression as she handed me the white gloves.

Curating and art handling develop good forearms. Thanks in large part to a power drill.

I had only walked five feet from the gallery when a gust of wind and a traffic light made me realize that this might have been one of those lapse of judgement moments. The canvas under each arm had transformed me into an urban sailboat, with only forearms for rudders. My floaty skirt that was keen to pull a Marilyn Monroe over the subway at any moment had to be ignored.

The old man who sits with his walker on the street corner and calls me “Cupcake” was, thankfully, enjoying the early bird special at the Legion.

With each block the canvases grew heavier. The wind, wilder. And all I could think is: Why, oh why did I insist on the extra set of bicep curls!?! The half mile to my car was the longest half mile of my life.

waiting for my life line.

People paused to gawk. Others dove out of my way. A few got bashed with the frames of the canvases’ stretcher. A beautiful man in a Mercedes convertible pulled over to ask if I needed a ride. He was wearing a Rolex… and a wedding band. I artfully (haha!) declined.

When I finally arrived at my car, I folded the seats down. Laid out the moving blankets. And proceed to attempt to fit a square peg into a round hole.

Neither canvas fit.

I sat down on the parking lot asphalt. My arms were shaking — there was no way I was carrying these back to the gallery.

Eventually, thanks to a “phone a friend” lifeline, I found a solution. The paintings did not have to be abandoned in the parking lot — a threat I had thrown at them as they leaned against the side of my car, mocking me.

When I arrived at the satellite site, I expected to find a world map welcome mat and Phil Keoghan waiting for me. Instead, it was just a series of white walls and another Road Block — a very large picture puzzle.

I expected to find Phil and the map waiting for me at the off-site location. Instead, it was just another Road Block.

Posted in Adventure, Bio Pics, Career, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Inside the Mind of an Online Dater on a First Date, Part 2: The Countdown

April 11, 2012 by Kathleen

The following post was written by the exceedingly funny and insightful Brooklyn-based guy behind the blog “Datestable” (apparently, there are some good things happening in Brooklyn.) You can read about his dating experiences by clicking HERE or following him on Twitter: @datestable.

Enjoy!

___________________________________________________________________________________________

T-Minus 1 hour... better make sure to get that out spinach of there

In the sometimes too-predictable world of online dating, there are those pleasant surprises when the script gets thrown out the window, and two people enjoy a totally spontaneous, organic connection full of laughs, meaningful glances, and prolonged silences pregnant with ineffable feeling…Unfortunately, most online dates are nothing like that. Instead, they go something like this, at least for me:

  • T minus 3 days: Date/location set.
  • T minus 2 days: Phone numbers/other means of contact exchanged.
  • T minus 1 day: A text confirmation is dispatched. Hopefully the other party confirms.
  • T minus 12 hours: I make sure my teeth and hair are brushed, hygienic products and olfactory enhancements are applied, presentable clothes are worn.
  • T minus 6 hours: I remind myself to resist that pile of onions in my Halal cart order lest I risk social suicide.
  • T minus 1 hour: I look in the mirror to make sure there’s not a giant booger hanging out of my nose, or a big splotch of toothpaste on my chin. If there’s toothpaste, I remind myself to check that at T-12 hours and curse all the people who have seen me throughout the date who chose not to point this out.
  • T minus 5-10 minutes: I arrive on location comfortably but not pointlessly early. If I’m at a bar that fills up quickly after work or on a weekend, I have time to grab some seats, which she is sure to appreciate (or, at least it solves a minor but unnecessary first-date problem of awkwardly waiting for comfort).
  • T minus 2 minutes: I peruse the beer/wine list, preparing myself to wow her with my vast knowledge of spirits. At this point I may also start to wonder if those weird angles in her photos were intentional.
  • T plus 2 minutes: I glance at my watch and a few at the door, curious about how she will make her entrance and how I will look to her. This might also be a good time to check on a few near-certainties (is my fly zipped, etc.).
  • T plus 5 minutes (pre-smart phone era): I start to get annoyed, checking my watch and phone more frequently.
  • T plus 5 minutes (post-smart phone era): I feel slightly more relaxed, launch Words with Friends or Draw Something.

Date Late

  • T plus 15 minutes (pre-smart phone era): I am now fully annoyed at not getting a heads-up, wonder if this will finally be the time I get completely stood up, start to get annoyed when I’m asked if I want to order a drink for the 3rd time, contemplate passive-aggressive text, decide against it and end up calling or texting to voice my concern.
  • T plus 15 minutes (post-smart phone era): Getting frustrated with a bad board in WWF or not being able to guess what my friend’s squiggly lines are supposed to be. Forget all about date, fail to register vibrating/ringing of phone as she sends an SOS after being mugged in the adjacent alley.

Date On Time
Showtime: You size each other up nervously, hug or awkwardly shake hands, and proceed to judge one another physically for a few seconds while ignoring what the other person is saying. If you’re both satisfied, a lovely evening may commence. If one of you is much happier than the other, one of you will be really frustrated very soon and the other will have some grievances to air with the friend who thought this was a good idea. If both of you are equally dissatisfied, you might be on to a beautiful friendship.


Posted in Dating | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Inside the Mind of an Online Dater on a First Date

April 9, 2012 by Kathleen

The shoes a guy picks for a first date say a lot.

Okay. Here we go. I’m early. Should I text him? No, I’ll just wait. Well, what if he’s early too and already inside? I don’t want to be waiting out here like an asshole.

I’ll text him. Okay. done.

He’s running a little late. I’ll go inside. I hope they have bar snacks at this place. I haven’t eaten all day and I swear, I’ll eat my purse if they don’t have bar snacks and he’s much later.

Is my lipstick still on? God, I hate lipstick. Especially lipstick marks on my glass, from my own lips. Where’s my compact?

I hope he’s not shorter than me. He said he was 5’11, but that probably means he’s really 5’8, because if he was really 5’11 then he’d probably say he’s 6-foot. I mean, if I were 5’11, I’d say I was 6-foot. But then again, I’m 5’6 and I say I’m 5’5… but that’s because I’m a girl, and I wear heels. Technically, my height is adjustable. I don’t want to date a man who wears heels, I mean, this is not Louis XIV France. Then again, I like a man in cowboy boots and cowboy boots have heels.

I hope he’s not wearing cowboy boots. Unless he has a ranch. I don’t think he has a ranch. He’s from Brooklyn.

Okay, there he is. He’s walking right at me. He looks like he’s taller than me. Phew.

But I can’t make out his face. He was ruggedly handsome in his profile picture. Oh, no. His hairline –it’s not only receding, he’s practically bald.  Dammit! I should have known when he had hats on in EVERY SINGLE picture.

They’re always balding.

Always.

But hey! No big deal. Prince William’s going bald, and he’s still a catch. So let that one go.

What kind of shoes is he wearing? Remember that guy that wore the beat-up sneakers on the first date? The ones with the holes? What made him think that was a good idea?

He’s here.

Oh. Shit. He’s going in for the hug. Aim right!

Phew! He’s definitely taller than me. And he smells good. And those are nice shoes.

The bar didn’t have snacks. I probably shouldn’t order the bourbon. But I want a Manhattan. And, boy, am I gonna need it….

 

Posted in Dating, New York City | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

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