This past Saturday's WSJ had the Omak Suicide Race on the cover of it's Pursuits page. The race attracts 5,000 visitors to the small desolate down of Omak, Washington each year to watch four heats over a four night span. The title "suicide" or what animal rights activists call "murder" is due to the 225 ft 61 degree incline horses gallop down, to a river bank which they must swim across, and then up a small hill to the finish line and rodeo ring. Watch it here!
Now watch this animals rights activist version. Different story, same material. Some claim there's an indian heretige aspect to the whole thing but seeing that race began in 1935 by a white sales man, I don't find it very convincing.
My heart is torn over this issue. Because I love horses, but I also like horse races. And in all fairness, the ponies do get to do test runs, and being intelligent animals I'm going to assume they remember that there is a huge drop off point coming after they practice the race a couple of times. But why do this to a horse? Throw them over the edge in a pack of 10 and see who can survive? Incredibly harsh, the horses don't have much of a chance to catch their balance going down hill and if someone is in their way... Horses die due to race accidents all the time, get put to sleep because they brake a leg, etc; this race just gets a bit more press b/c the average hurt is higher (20 horses since 1983).
That's my issue for the weekend, don't know what else to say.
racing, rodeos, and
Sunday, August 12
Wednesday, August 8
Sephora
I have a confession. I use Sephora, dare I say, abuse Sephora. There is a location across from my office in Soho and each morning I apply my eye primer at home and say to myself "gosh, I don't have a color to match these moss green pants/purple suede shoes/brown silk top, I better hold off on eye shadow till i get to work."
Off the subway I duck into the store as the manager is ending her morning employee meeting and the security guard checks me out, for he long ago stopped smiling at me. I honestly think I may be the first customer to hit their store each day at opening. It's to the point of "oh, here comes that tall frizzy haired girl again..." and may be followed by "...the poor thing can't afford any of her own eye shadows." This cute little asian chick always asks if she can help me, and every time I tell her no thanks. They don't seem to watch me like a hawk so I'm going to assume they don't think I steal their eye shadows but I still feel a bit queezy. That is...until I see the lines and lines of colors, array of summer pallets, smudges, mascaras to volumize, sleekify, elongate, oh - the choice don't stop! Do I want pink kitten or cinnamon karma as the base coat? Do I line my lower lid in Oregon Green or Full Moon Blue? Yes, these are the choices I have to make.
I was thinking of bringing in my own brushes next time, but I'm worried they'll think I'm taking theirs so I've been resisting the urge so far. Hum. We'll see. Perhaps another time.
Off the subway I duck into the store as the manager is ending her morning employee meeting and the security guard checks me out, for he long ago stopped smiling at me. I honestly think I may be the first customer to hit their store each day at opening. It's to the point of "oh, here comes that tall frizzy haired girl again..." and may be followed by "...the poor thing can't afford any of her own eye shadows." This cute little asian chick always asks if she can help me, and every time I tell her no thanks. They don't seem to watch me like a hawk so I'm going to assume they don't think I steal their eye shadows but I still feel a bit queezy. That is...until I see the lines and lines of colors, array of summer pallets, smudges, mascaras to volumize, sleekify, elongate, oh - the choice don't stop! Do I want pink kitten or cinnamon karma as the base coat? Do I line my lower lid in Oregon Green or Full Moon Blue? Yes, these are the choices I have to make.
I was thinking of bringing in my own brushes next time, but I'm worried they'll think I'm taking theirs so I've been resisting the urge so far. Hum. We'll see. Perhaps another time.
Terror Attacks
Today NYC suffered from rain damage. For some unexplanable reason NJ Transit of all places was functioning fine from Summit, NJ - very odd seeing that NJT is in my opinion, is as unreliable as the Central Line or Q Train to Astoria. When I walked up the broken escalator into the Penn Station NJT lobby it was dark. No lights on, no screens reading train departure times; the crowd slowly moved towards the 7th Ave exit. Such a wave of humanity, I thought I was in urban China. I thought there may be some terrorist warning so everyone had to leave the station and my first thought was "dammit! those ass holes inconvenience my life so much, I want them to go back to their dry ass desserts and caves." No joke, it wasn't "oh gee, I hope everyone is safe" or even "I hope I'm safe" it was "those ass holes!" Perhaps I need to reajust my priorities.
I walked to my yellow subway at b-way and 32nd but saw the the platform was over flowing and did a u-turn. Apparently the train tracks were flooded. So I thought "I can't believe I have to walk to Prince and Bway, this sucks." But as I passed the 28th st local stop a mass of people stormed out so i decided to walk to the next stop and see what was up.
23rd st - turns out the trains were now all running local so I waited. Within 5 minutes a train popped up and voila! on i hopped. I was standing in the middle of the car. I turned to the door and guess who was standing there? Avi! I think I yelled his name by accident, but it was just really weird to see him on my train before I got to the office. Because he was such good train ride company, I bought him his morning coffee in a rather eerily desolate Dean and Deluca.
I walked to my yellow subway at b-way and 32nd but saw the the platform was over flowing and did a u-turn. Apparently the train tracks were flooded. So I thought "I can't believe I have to walk to Prince and Bway, this sucks." But as I passed the 28th st local stop a mass of people stormed out so i decided to walk to the next stop and see what was up.
23rd st - turns out the trains were now all running local so I waited. Within 5 minutes a train popped up and voila! on i hopped. I was standing in the middle of the car. I turned to the door and guess who was standing there? Avi! I think I yelled his name by accident, but it was just really weird to see him on my train before I got to the office. Because he was such good train ride company, I bought him his morning coffee in a rather eerily desolate Dean and Deluca.
Tuesday, August 7
You know fall fashion is here when...
My favorite catalogue arrives - Gorsuch. It's a like a J.Crew for WASPs who enjoy skiing, and the Nantucket beach house has been traded in for a lodge drenched in a cherry stain and marble, a couple of St. Bernese Mt dogs and birch trees scattered about the background.
The prices are absurd, no normal person would purchase Roberto Cavalli jeans for $650 or $1,000 cowboy boots. What really ticks me off is the fur they insist on lining approx 60% of their products in; they kill foxes, chinchillas, coyotes, etc., so that rich women can feel luxurious. In 2007, we have plenty of synthetics that are just as soft if not more heat efficient in the winter weather.
But wait... they also have some of the most beautiful ski outfits on the market. I mean, I could drop dead just drooling over them. This season, I'm going for the warm up pants. Yes, I know they cost $499, but they'll look great on me. So the Christmas list has begun! Plus, they have a cute pattern on the butt, so when Cal has to find me slightly further down the slope than him, he can just look for my butt. Oh yes, I have a plan.
The prices are absurd, no normal person would purchase Roberto Cavalli jeans for $650 or $1,000 cowboy boots. What really ticks me off is the fur they insist on lining approx 60% of their products in; they kill foxes, chinchillas, coyotes, etc., so that rich women can feel luxurious. In 2007, we have plenty of synthetics that are just as soft if not more heat efficient in the winter weather.
But wait... they also have some of the most beautiful ski outfits on the market. I mean, I could drop dead just drooling over them. This season, I'm going for the warm up pants. Yes, I know they cost $499, but they'll look great on me. So the Christmas list has begun! Plus, they have a cute pattern on the butt, so when Cal has to find me slightly further down the slope than him, he can just look for my butt. Oh yes, I have a plan.
Designer Shades
Given the choice of rant or rave, today I pick rant. About those girls who wear GIANT sunglasses. With GIANT designer labels on the sides. And as if that isn’t enough, they wear them on the subway. For those of you who have not been on the NYC subway – let me tell you a little something about it – 90% of the Manhattan subway system is underground, in the dark.
Dear Girl on the W Train with Chanel Sunglasses,
My problems with your glasses are three fold. First, they look ridiculous; unless you have a passion for bloated, mildly retarded bumble bees, your eyes do not need a 3” x 2” tinted lense on each of them. Second, the giant labels. Come on now hunny, you paid at least $300 to have the word “Valentino” or “YSL” plastered to the side of your eye; for half that I’ll find you a great tattoo artist who can do the same thing. Third, plastic is a cheap material to produce, and I doubt those lenses are perspcription so I’m gonna guess the cost to produce is $10 max with a 50% distribution cost from China.
Sincerely,
me.
I think what really bothers me is that the girl with the $300 Chanel sunglasses riding my W train is that chances are - she isn’t the same woman who’s wearing the $10,000 gown. If you can’t afford the clothes (that’s me too!), why are you wasting your time plastering the label on your face? You're an insult to high fashion, buying into a marketing scheme you can't actually own with authority. That's like me buying a Porsche key ring for my Civic because I like the Carrera GT. Pathetic right?
Dear Girl on the W Train with Chanel Sunglasses,
My problems with your glasses are three fold. First, they look ridiculous; unless you have a passion for bloated, mildly retarded bumble bees, your eyes do not need a 3” x 2” tinted lense on each of them. Second, the giant labels. Come on now hunny, you paid at least $300 to have the word “Valentino” or “YSL” plastered to the side of your eye; for half that I’ll find you a great tattoo artist who can do the same thing. Third, plastic is a cheap material to produce, and I doubt those lenses are perspcription so I’m gonna guess the cost to produce is $10 max with a 50% distribution cost from China.
Sincerely,
me.
I think what really bothers me is that the girl with the $300 Chanel sunglasses riding my W train is that chances are - she isn’t the same woman who’s wearing the $10,000 gown. If you can’t afford the clothes (that’s me too!), why are you wasting your time plastering the label on your face? You're an insult to high fashion, buying into a marketing scheme you can't actually own with authority. That's like me buying a Porsche key ring for my Civic because I like the Carrera GT. Pathetic right?
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