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Fri
24
Apr
2009

Fully Committed

Written by Pat Fortunato
Hi, Sara:
As Reservations Clerk in Chief (How did I get this friggin' job?),
lilytomlin.jpg
"One ringy dingy"
I am here to report that we will be back from Ocean Grove Sunday afternoon after all, so we could meet you for an early dinner.
How early do you want to make it? Five? Six?
I checked with Scarlatto, which is in the theatre district (where you’ll be) and which also happens to be where I left my hat the last time I was there (It's a cute hat!) and the food is good, so. . .
Give me a time and I'll make the reservation.
Love, Pat

So how did I get this friggin' job? Why am I always writing e-mails like the one above? Why am I constantly looking up restaurants in Zagat, and plays in Time Out New York (before I cancelled my subscription because they started getting so weird)? What ever happened to spontaneity?  I guess that my question really is . . . Why me?


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Sat
18
Apr
2009

You Go, Guys!

Written by Pat Fortunato
I want a wedding. Not one of my own, silly. Been there (Finally!). Done that (Amen).
What I want is to be invited to a gay wedding. Soon. Adam and Steve: Are you listening?
I’m not kidding about this.
gayweddingcake.jpg
I have fantasies about gay weddings, especially between two guys.  I’m thinking really tasteful with all the perfect touches, like Charlotte’s in Sex and the City— but with more flair. Isn't it ironic (not to mention romantic): gays out-traditionaling the traditionalists. I saw a photo of two grooms wearing white tuxes with pink shirts and ties. I may have the Wedding Bell Blues, but they were pink and white — and looked fabulous! I can only imagine the flowers and the table arrangements.

On the other hand . . . I hope that some of these weddings will be out-and-out outrageous—like the gay prom in Sex and the City. I want to get a taffeta dress from the thrift shop, with tulle maybe, get big hair, and wear too much makeup.

Ah, but perhaps I’m being too optimistic. Maybe gay weddings will turn out to be just like most heterosexual weddings: big, obscenely expensive, with music so loud you have to read lips to get through dinner. Oh, I hope not. But come on, let’s roll the dice on this one, folks. 
Make it legal! Let them eat wedding cake! If they have the bread, it could be a really great cake, with two grooms on the top and everything.

Of course, I may have to move to Iowa . . .


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Thu
02
Apr
2009

Sirens And The City

Written by Pat Fortunato
This open letter to Michael Bloomberg appeared in part in New York Woman. But even if you don’t live anywhere near Manhattan, you probably are being driven nuts by noise pollution, too.

Dear Mayor Mike:

First of all, I want you to know that I voted for you, and will again, and think that you’re doing a great job in this impossible city, which I happen to love.

mrsofteensirens.jpgThere is something, however, just one little thing, that I really need to discuss with you. It’s noise, Mayor Mike, as in: there is way too much of it in this town.

Why is this your problem? Because it hurts my quality of life, that’s why, and I know that’s important to you. During your tenure, the city even passed a noise reduction law, known to some of us as the "Mr Softee Law" because, among other things, it limits the amount of noise these lovable but loud trucks can emit. Although I, for one, can’t imagine who could resist the the sweet siren song of ice cream, which sounds like music to my ears. (Can ears have a sweet tooth? I guess not. It just seems that way.)

But even with the so-called noise reduction, such as it is, life in the Big Apple involves a constant hum, punctuated by honking horns, jolting jackhammers  —and, especially, screeching sirens  A person could develop a headache. Not to mention a severe case of crankiness. Even me! I, and millions like me, need your help . . .


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Fri
10
Apr
2009

Gotham Girl Meets GOSSIP GIRL

Written by Pat Fortunato

Working by day as a mild-mannered blogger for I Can’t Believe I’m Not Bitter, Pat Fortunato has been known to put on a trench-coat and dark glasses and turn into Gotham Girl, gathering info for pieces like this, which appeared in part in Woman Around Town:ggblog.jpg

Neither rain, nor sleet nor gloom of public transportation can keep Gotham Girl from her appointed rounds  — at the Silvercup Studios in Long Island City, where she visited the set of Gossip Girl. And who wouldn’t brave the weather not to mention the F train, when behind the door marked Stage X (How appropriate is that?) you'll find the show that is, admit it, your favorite guilty pleasure. Right up there with mac ‘n cheese and Mallomars, anyway.

But how did "A Girl Like I,” long, long, out of high school, not from the upper crust of the Upper East Side, not, in fact, the slightest bit like anyone on this hot series  —except that I, too, drink martinis — become addicted to this show?

I have an excuse, sort of. All junkies do . . .


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Wed
08
Apr
2009

Define "Casual"

Written by Pat Fortunato
lucyethelsamegowns.jpgOnce upon a time, when you went to a party, you "dressed up" in the outfit of the moment, complete with matching shoes, purse, and whatever jewelry went with The Look. There was the A-Line, The Mini, the Little Nothing (AKA the Shift), long full skirts, long tight skirts, short tight skirts, pumps, mules (now called slides, and for good reason), platform shoes, huge gold earrings, Gypsy-style hoop earrings, circle pins, simple stands of pearls, and oh, you get the picture.

To be well dressed, you had to be up on the latest style, then cut down on non-essentials —such as food —so you could afford the right clothes. Well, you had to fit into that dress anyway. The only other obstacle was getting through the party without someone else showing up in exactly the same outfit. 
Which happened.

To understand this quaint phenomenon, see almost any rerun of I Love Lucy. But if Lucy and Ethel had problems then, think of how they’d handle going out for an evening these days. . .


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