I’ve lived a great and interesting life. I love beautiful things: high thread count sheets, old china, watches, jewelry, Hermes purses, and Louboutin shoes. I like expensive French milled soap, good wines, and white truffles. I have given extravagant gifts like diamond earrings. I traveled a lot. In this last year, I've been Laos, Cambodia, India, Russia, and Berlin for my first solo art show. Will I ever be able to explore exotic places again?
Since this happened last Thursday, I have barely left my apartment, I haven't been out for dinner; haven't bought groceries. Can’t remember the last time I ate a full meal. Food, which is one of my most favorite things in the world, has become meaningless. But I look on that as an upside.
Yesterday, I took my first subway ride in 30 years. Dennis came with me to show me how to get a MetroCard. The world looks very different from a crowded Lexington Avenue No. 6 train.
Well, if I were here the first thing I'd do is go to Ebay with those Hermes handbags. Good Christ. Some of us have somehow endured having none of this, ever. The subway? The poor thing has to ride the subway? Oh my god, how horrible. I haven't even had a car since 1998. At some point she also bemoans how she will now have to iron her 40 white shirts herself.
It is quite possible, while my head steamed with anger at your obscene lack of perspective, that I missed the line where you regretted you would no longer be able to donate to the charitable causes that support single working mothers. Or the ones that feed starving artists. Perhaps you make those sacrifices, but I didn't read you lament losing your ability to help those who face the challenges you have overcome.