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Jenny

Bachelorette Begs Off a Beating

September 13th, 2006 by Jenny

My pal Amy is getting hitched in a week. Though I’ve attended a handful of weddings in recent years, I’ve only been to one other bachelorette party. That experience involved body shots off a burly biker named Rob in Hibbing, Minnesota, and building a bonfire in a cornfield. So when the planner for Amy’s carouse emailed for ideas for the outing, I naturally suggested the most likely venue to have hirsute denizens. I suggested the Russian & Turkish Baths.

Jenny

SummerStage in the City

July 7th, 2006 by Jenny

Summer Stage

I didn’t see “The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou” when it came out in theaters, but my roommate did. He liked the music in the film, which featured a Brazilian sailor whose character sings Bowie tunes in Portuguese. Or so my roommate told me. Anyway, he liked the music so much, he bade a friend traveling to France to pick up the CD released abroad (but not in the U.S.) featuring tunes by the actor/musician who played the part of the sailor. Thus I was introduced to the music of Seu Jorge. I like him so much, I sat for hours in Central Park this past Sunday, braving sunstroke and dehydration and the sweaty, scantily-clad, jiggling Brazilians to see him perform. Lordy, was it worth it.

Jenny

Coming out of the Closet

June 24th, 2006 by Jenny

Jenny SingingIt being Pride Week and all, I supposed it’s appropriate for me to finally come out of the closet: Yes, I enjoy mounting the stage, microphone in hand, to belt out ’80s tunes I never knew the words to. I yearn to be Annie Lennox or Johnny Cash, only I’m not tall and angular, nor dark and brooding enough. Nor am I a man. But I can pretend, can’t I? After all, everyone else seems to be doing it this week. If cross-dressing is okay, then so, too, is karaoke. [WARNING: Shameless plug at the end of this post!]

Jenny

On the Horns of a Dilemma at the Guggenheim

January 2nd, 2006 by Jenny

The Young Collectors Council 2005 Artist’s Ball, sponsored by fashion house Yves Saint Laurent, roped in a fashionable crowd on Thursday, December 15, at the Guggenheim Museum. Chilled by a frigid winter rain and wickedly gusting wind, guests huddled in the entry area waiting to check their coats. I listened to one male attendee talk up his date by bragging about having an in with some museum bigwig. She seemed more interested in complaining about her dress.

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