Date: Mon, 14 Aug 2000 11:30:44 -0500 (CDT)
Subject: news from the flip front
I went to Gurnee Mills on Saturday, not so much in search of things to buy but boys to ogle. Though I’ve sworn off boys forever (after a couple of very large mojitos at the Pontiac Thursday night), I will still ogle the cute ones recklessly and without abandon.
Sadly, the cute boys were not at Gurnee Mills. I found a great pair of Via Spiga slingbacks — dark red leather, sculpted heel — and some great eye shadow. Lots of sailors in their well-fitting white pants, them and hoochie mamas. It was almost as though I was on some waterfront, and the girls were workin’ it. But can you really work it in a mall food court?
See, I didn’t think so either. I spent the afternoon trying to prove myself wrong. I didn’t succeed. Between the screaming children, pregnant women, and shops full of Precious Moment, there was no way that fabulousness can survive at Gurnee Mills. Well, except for me, but I wasn’t there for very long. I did entertain the idea of eating dinner at The Rainforest Cafe, but we were too tired to eat overpriced hamburgers in a fine mist.
“Ay, que horror!” as my mother the former beauty queen would say. She would also look askance at the availability of pseudo-Asian platform sandals in some of the teen shops. All those sandals imprinted with red and black flowers, or soled with the straw typically used to make Japanese tatami mats, were a bit scary. I much prefer the wooden mules my mother had when I was a child — macrame band on an upper that had a rural Filipino scene carved into the heel. Actually, not carved into the heel — the water buffalo in the rice paddy actually *was* the heel.
Oh, but maybe I’m getting away from myself . . .
“I’m The One I Want”, Margaret Cho’s new movie, is hysterical. Of course it is, what am I saying? So if you haven’t seen it yet, go now. Bring your friends. Make a day of it. Have an adventure. That’s what I did. I’ve got some posters to put up, so let me know if you want one. Otherwise, they’re going up in Quimby’s and Reckless Records.
Andrew reports that he is fine and well-acquainted with the Native American community of the greater Minneapolis-St. Paul area. He is scouting out the area for Asian haunts so that, when I visit him in October, I can be rushed to the nearest safe house if and when I begin to suffer from honky over-exposure. Could Minnesota be the whitest place on earth after Scandinavia? Or is that Connecticut?
Am I really wrong for thinking these thoughts? I know that Prince is from Minneapolis, but there is not much else that I’ve seen to suggest any sort of diversity in its population. Call me ignorant, but I have managed to cobble a sort of body of knowledge from watching the following:
1. The Mary Tyler Moore Show
2. media coverage of Jesse Ventura’s gubernatorial campaign
3. Little House on the Prairie
4. The Golden Girls
I know you might be confused by that last one, but you should know that Rose (as played by Betty White) was from Minnesota. And she wasn’t terribly bright, either. Also, Little House might have taken place in Missouri, but whatever. I was never a big fan of Melissa Gilbert — all those teeth, *shudder*, she might as well be an Osmond.
FYI — The Chicago Historical Society is very cool. They had two excellent photography exhibits — one of Harry Benson covering The Beatles first visit to America, the other showing the work of photographers who disappeared or were killed in during the Vietnam war. Also, lots of trains. I think my next field trip needs to be to the Pullman District, followed by dinner at Army & Lou’s.
Last night’s “Sex and the City” party at Kevin’s was lovely. The Cosmopolitans flowed freely, and we re-dedicated ourselves to helping me with my green card/citizenship woes, if only because the celebration party would be kickin’. The following would be have to be involved:
1. a boat for me to fall out of — so I will be, literally, fresh off the boat. Staging area — Jackson Park lagoon? I see myself dressed like Cleopatra, and the boat would be staffed with hunky boys in loincloths
2. some friends dressed as the Statue of Liberty so that I, a huddled mass, can throw myself at their feet
3. Tiki torches
4. some sort of ceremony where I pay tribute to my Asian heroes — Margaret Cho, Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and that hunky guy who hosts the “East Meets West” show on the Food Channel
5. rice kings — if you don’t know what these are, just e-mail me and I’ll let you know.
PS: Remember what I said about there being no cute boys at Gurnee Mills? I was disappointed, but not surprised. However, I saw a few cute French boys at the Chicago Historical Society yesterday, and that was very nice.
“Alright, now you can go ahead and help yourself to that cognac if you want, but remember that Courvoisier does not grow on vines, ok?”