sex and the city(欲望都市)的纯正美语

楼主:andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-14 01:33:00 点击:16675 回复:167
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   My Unsentimental Education:
   Love in Manhattan?
   I Don’t Think So…
  Here’s a Valentine’s Day tale. Prepare yourself.
   An English journalist came to New York. She was attractive and witty, and right away she hooked up with one forty-two, an investment banker who made about $5 million a year, For two weeks, they kissed, held hands---and then on a warm fall day he drove her to the house he was building in Hamptons. They looked at the plans with the architect. “I want to tell the architect to fill in the railings on the second floor, so the children wouldn’t fall through.” said the journalist. “I expected Tim was going to ask me to marry him.” On Sunday night, Tim dropped her off at her apartment and reminded her that they had dinner plans for Tuesday. On Tuesday, he called and said he’d have to take a rain check. When she hadn’t heard from him after two weeks, she called and told him, “That’s an awfully long rain check.” He said he would call her later in the week.
   He never did call, of course. But what interested me was that she couldn’t understand what had happened. In England, she explained, meeting the architect would have meant something. Then I realized, Of course: She’s from London. Then I thought: She’ll learn.
   Welcome to the Age of Un-Innocence. The glittering light of Manhattan that served as back drops from Edith Wharton’s bodice-heaving trysts are still glowing---but the stage is empty, No one has breakfast at Tiffany’s ,and no one has affairs to remember---instead, we have breakfast at seven A.M. and affairs we try to forget as quickly as possible. How did we get in to this mess?
   Truman Capote understood our nineties dilemma---the dilemma of Love vs. the Deal----all too well.In breakfast at Tiffany’s Holly Golightly and Paul Varjak were faced with restrictions---he was a kept man, she was a kept woman.----but in the end they surmounted them and chose love over money. That doesn’t happen much in Manhattan these days. We all kept men and women---by our jobs, by our apartments, and then some of us by the pecking order at Mortimers and the Royalton, by Hamptons beachfront, by front-row Garden tickets---and we like it that way. Self-protection and closing the deal are paramount. Cupid has flown the co-op.
   When was the last time you heard someone say, “I love you!” without tagging on the inevitable(if unspoken) “as a friend.” When was the last time you saw two people gazing in to each other’s eyes without thinking, Yeah, right? When was the last time you heard someone announce, “I am truly, madly in love”, without thinking, Just wait until Monday morning? And what turned out to be the hot non-Tim Allen Christmas movie? Disclosure---for which ten or fifteen million moviegoers went to see unwanted, unaffectionate sex between corporate erotomaniacs---hardly the stuff we like to think about when we think about love but very much the stuff of the modern Manhattan relationship.
   There’s still plenty of sex in Manhattan but the kind of sex that results in friendship and business deals, not romance. These days, everyone has friends and colleagues: no one really has lovers---even if they have slept together.
   Back to the English journalist: After six months, some more “relationships” and a brief affair with a man who used to call her from out of town to tell her that he’d be calling her when he got back into town( and never did), she got smart. “Relationships in New York are about detachment,” she said. “But how do you get attached when you decide you want to?”
   Honey, you leave town.


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作者:Harry1028 时间:2006-11-14 06:10:47
作者:塔斯马尼亚 时间:2006-11-14 12:11:43
  我还记得我看的第一集电视剧开头是Once upon a time, there was An English journalist came to New York.....
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-11-14 12:22:57
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-14 14:13:32
  塔斯马尼亚:没错,这个是我自己打出来的,我手头上有一本Candace Bushnell的原著小说。小说和电视剧的差别巨大。弄的我一开始读小说的时候很不习惯。
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-14 17:57:06
   It’s Friday night at the Bowery Bar. It’s snowing outside and buzzing inside. There ‘s the actress from Los Angels, looking delightfully out of place in her vinyl gray jacket and miniskirt,with her gold-medallioned, too_tanned escort. There’s the actor, singer, and party boy Donovan Leitch in a green down jacket and a fuzzy beige hat with earflaps. There’s Francis Ford Coppola at a table with his wife. There’s an empty chair at Francis Ford Coppola’s table. It’s not just empty: It’s alluringly, temptingly, tauntingly, provocatively empty. It’s so empty that it’s more full than any other chair in the place. And then, just when the chair’s emptiness threatens to cause a scene, Donovan Leitch sits down for a chat, Everyone in the room is immediately jealous. Pissed off. The energy of the room lurches violently. This is romance in New York.
  “Love means having to align yourself with another person, and what if that person turns out to be a liability?” said a friend, one of the few people I know who’s been happily married for twelve years. “And the more you ‘re able to look back, the more you are proven right in hindsight. Then you get further and further away from having a relationship, unless something big comes along to shake you out of it---like your parents dying.”
   “New Yorkers build up a total façade that you can’t penetrate,” he continued. “I feel so lucky that things worked out for me early on. Because it’s so easy not to have a relationship here---it almost becomes impossible to go back.”
  A girlfriend who was married called me up. “I don’t know how anyone makes relationship work in this town. It’s really hard. All the temptations. Going out. Drinks. Drugs. Other people. You want to have fun. And if you are a couple, what are you going to do? Sit in your little box of an apartment and stare at eachother? When you are alone, it’s easier,” she said, a little wistfully. “you can do what you want. You don’t have to go home.”
  Years ago, when my friend Capote Duncan was one of the most eligible bachelors in New York, he dated every woman in town. Back then, we were still romantic enough to believe that some woman could get him. He has to fall in love someday, we thought. Everyone has to fall in love, and when he does, it will be with a woman who’s beautiful and smart and successful. But then those beautiful and smart and successful women came and went. And he still hadn’t fallen in love .
   We were wrong. Today, Capote sits at the dinner at Coco Pazzo, and he says he’s ungettable. He doesn’t want a relationship. Doesn’t even want to try. Isn’t interested in the romantic commitment. Doesn’t want to hear about the neurosis in somebody else’s head. And he tells women that he’ll be their friend, and they can have sex with him. But that’s all there is and that’s all there’s ever going to be.
   And it’s fine with him. It doesn’t make him sad anymore the way it used to be.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-14 17:58:36
   Bowery酒吧内的周五夜晚,外边落着雪,室内却是另一番热热闹闹的景象。这里有携着皮肤成棕黑色的男伴而来,身着“冻人”却也“惹火”的灰色塑胶外套和超短裙的洛城女艺人。也有绿色羽绒外套与米色护耳绒帽包裹下的影视两栖派对狂Donovan Leitch。Francis Ford Coppola夫妇的那桌余下了一个空位。这个位置虽然空着,却蕴涵着致命的诱惑力。足可以令周遭的一切黯然失色。正在这个紧要关头,Donovan Leitch一屁股坐在了这个惹眼的位置上和Francis Ford Coppola夫妇唠起嗑来,于是大厅里的每个人都立即出离了愤怒(hohoho,AA自己也怒了)诱惑力立即向暴力转化,这就是New York的爱情公式。
   几年前,当我的朋友Copote Duncan还是纽约最当之无愧的钻石王老五之一的时候,他曾和城里的每一个女人约会,那时,我们依然相信爱情的存在,确信他最终会与一个女人相守终生,我们想,他绝对会有一天陷入爱河。没有哪个人会被爱神遗忘在角落,他最终会爱上一个美慧兼备而事业有成的女性。但是,这些慧心兰质而又事业有成的女士们来了又去,他仍旧孑然一身。
   我们都错了,今天,Capote在Coco Pazzo吃晚饭的时候说,他是不可能被俘获的男人,他不想恋爱,甚至连尝试一次都不愿意,对罗曼司压根儿提不起半点兴趣,不想听到除自己以外的任何人神经质的唠唠叨叨。他对女人们说,他可以做他们的朋友,他们可以上床,但这就是他能给予的所有,再没别的。
作者:草乌 时间:2006-11-14 22:13:33
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-14 22:25:54
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-16 13:05:16
  At my table at the Bowery Bar, there’s parker, thirty-two, a novelist who writes about relationships that inevitably go wrong; his boyfriend ,Roger; Skipper Johnson, an entertainment lawyer.
   Skipper is twenty-five and personifies the Gen-X dogged disbelief in Love. “I just don’t believe I’ll meet the right person and get married,” he said. “Relationships are too intense. If you believe in love, you’re setting yourself up to disappointed. You just can’t trust anyone, people are too corrupted these days.”
   “But it’s the one ray of hope,” Parker protested. “you hope it will save you from cynicism.”
   Skipper was having none of it. “the world is more fucked up now than it was twenty-five years ago. I feel pissed off to be born in this generation when all these things are happening to me. Money, AIDS, and relationships they are all connected. Most people my age don’t believe they will have a secure job. When you are afraid of the financial future, you don’t want to make a commitment.”
   I understood his cynicism. Recently, I’d found myself saying I didn’t want a relationship because, at the end, unless you happened to be get married, you were left with nothing.
   Skipper took a gulp of his drink. “I have no alternatives,” he screamed. “I wouldn’t be in shallow relationships, so I do nothing. I have no sex and no romance. Who needs it? Who needs all these potential problems like disease and pregnancy? I have no problems. No fear of disease, psychopaths, or stalkers. Why not just be with your friends and have a real conversations and a good time?”
   “You are crazy.” Parker said. “it’s not about money. Maybe we can’t help each other financially, but maybe we can help each other through something else. Emotions don’t cost anything. You have someone to go home to. You have someone in your life.”
   I had a theory that the only place you could find love and romance in New York was in the gay community---the gay men were still friends with extravagance and passion. While straight love had become closeted. I had this theory partly because of all I had read and heard recently about multimillionaire who left his wife for a younger man---and boldly squared his young swain around Manhattan’s trendiest restaurants, right in front of the gossip columnists. There, I thought, is a True Lover.
   Parker was also proving my theory. For instance, when Parker and Roger first started seeing each other, Parker got sick. Roger went to his house to cook him dinner and take care of him. That would never happen with a straight guy. If a straight guy got sick and he’d just started dating a woman and she wanted to take care of him, he would freak out---he would think that she was trying to wheedle her way into his life. And the door would slam shut.
   “Love is dangerous,” Skipper said.
   “If you know it’s dangerous, that makes you treasure it, and you will work harder to keep it.” Parker said.
   “But relationships are out of your control,” Skipper said.
   “You are nuts,” Parker said.
   Roger went to work on Skipper. “what about old-fashioned romantics?”
   My friend Carrie jumped in. she knew the breed. “every time a man tells me he’s a romantic, I want to scream,” she said. “All it means is that man has a romanticized view of you, and as soon as you become real and stop play in to his fantasy, he get turned off. That’s what makes romantics dangerous. Stay away.”
   At that moment, one of those romantics dangerously arrived at the table.
  “The condom killed romance, but it has made it a lot of easier to get laid,” said a friend. “there’s something about using a condom that, for women, makes it like sex doesn’t count. There’s no skin-to-skin contact. So they go to bed with you more easily.”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-16 13:11:58
  Bowery酒吧里,和我坐在一起的是专门写走调恋情的32岁小说家Parker, 他的朋友Roger, 以及娱乐业律师Skipper Johnson.。
  Skipper25岁,属于完全不相信爱情的新新人类一族。“我就是不相信我会遇到合适的人并结婚成家。”他说,“爱情简直太要命了,如果你相信爱,你就注定了要大失所望, 你不能相信任何人,现如今,所有人都是烂货。”
  “但是还是有一线希望的。” Parker抗议说。“你希望它能把你从愤世疾俗玩世不恭的状态里解救出来。”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-20 02:27:40
  Barkley, twenty-five, was an artist. Barkley and my friend Carrie had been “seeing” each other for eight days, which meant that they would go places and kiss and look into each other’s eyes and it was sweet. With all the thirty-five year olds we knew up to their cuffs in polished cynicism, Carrie had thought she might try dating a younger man, one who had not been in New York long enough to become calcified.
  Barkley told Carrie he was a romantic “because I feel it,” and he also told Carrie he wanted to adapt Parker’s novel into a screenplay. Carrie had offered to introduce them, and that’s why Barkley was there at the Bowery Bar that night.
  But when Barkley showed up, he and Carrie looked at each other and felt…nothing. Perhaps because he had sensed the inevitable, Barkley had brought along a “date”, a strange young girl with glitter on her face.
  Nevertheless, when Barkley sat down, he said, “I totally believe in love. I would be so depressed if I didn’t believe in it. People are halves, love makes everything have more meaning.”
  “then someone takes it away from you and you are fucked.” Skipper said.
  “but you make your own space,” said Barkley.
  Skipper offered his goals: “To live in Montana,. With a satellite dish, a fax machine, and a Range Rover---so you are safe,” he said.
  “Maybe what you want is wrong,” said Parker. “ maybe what you want makes you uncomfortable.”
  “I want beauty, I have to be with a beautiful woman, I can’t help it.” Barkley said. “ that’s why a lot of girls I end up with are stupid.”
  Skipper and Barkley took out their cellular phones. “Your phone is too big,” said Barkley.
  Later, Carrie and Barkley went to the Tunnel and looked at all the pretty young people and smoked cigarettes and scarfed drinks. Barkley took off with the girl with glitter on her face, and Carrie went around with Barkley’s best friend, Jack. They danced, then they slid around in the snow like crazy people trying to find a cab. Carrie couldn’t even look at her watch.
  Barkley called her the next afternoon. “ What’ s up, dude?” he said.
  “I don’t know. You called me.”
  “I told you I didn’t want a girlfriend. You set yourself up. You knew what I was like.”
  “oh yeah, right,” Carrie wanted to say, “I knew that you were a shallow , two-bit womanizer, and that’s why I wanted to go out with you.”
  But she didn’t.
  “I didn’t sleep with her. I didn’t even kiss her,” Barkley said. “I don’t care. I will never see her again if you don’t want me to.”
  “I really don’t give a shit.” And the scary thing was, she didn’t.
  Then they spent the next four hours discussing Barkley’s paintings. “I could do this all day, everyday,” Barkley said. “this is so much better than sex.”
  “The only thing that’s left is work,” said Robert, forty-two, and editor. “you’ve got so much to do, who has time to be romantic?”
   Robert told a story, about how he’d recently been involved with a woman he really liked, but after a month and a half, it was clear that it wasn’t going to work out. “She put me through all these little tests. Like I was supposed to call her on Wednesday to go out on Friday. But on Wednesday, maybe I feel like I want to kill myself, and God only knows how I’m going to feel on Friday. She wanted to be with someone who’s crazy about her. I understand that. But I can’t pretend to feel something I don’t.
  One Sunday night, I went to a charity benefit at the Four Seasons. The theme was Ode to Love. Each of the tables was named after a different famous couple---there were Tammy Faye and Jim Bakker, Narcissus and Himself, Catherine the Great and Her Horse, Michael Jackson and Friends. Al D’Amato sat at the Bill and Hillary table. Each table featured a centerpiece made up of related items---for instance, at the Tammy Faye Bakker table there were false eyelashes, blue eye shadow, and lipstick candles. Michael Jackson’s table had a stuffed gorilla and Porcelana face cream.
  Bob Pittman was there. “Love’s not over---smoking is over.” Bob said, grinning, while his wife, Sandy, stood next to him, and I stood behind the indoor foliage, trying to sneak a cigarette. Sandy said she was about to climb a mountain in New Guinea and would be gone for several weeks.
  I went home alone, but right before I left, someone handed me the jawbone of a horse from the Catherine the Great table.
  Donovan Leitch got up from Francis Ford Coppola’s table and came over. “oh no,” he said. “I totally believe that love conquers all. Sometimes you just have to give it more space.” and that’s exactly what ‘s missing in Manhattan.
  Oh, and by the way? Bob and Sandy are getting divorced.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-20 02:34:41
  Barkley, 25岁的艺术家。和我的朋友Carrie“约会”到第八天,这表明他们外出寻欢,热情拥吻深情相视好得蜜里调油,当我们所认识的三十五岁左右的中年人都在忙于把自己修炼成事故圆滑的人精的同时,Carrie曾想过自己是不是要试试和那些初来纽约,还没有被环境同化成“骨灰型”纽约客的年轻人约会。
  “然而人生是由自己来把握的.” Barkley说。
  Skipper道出了自己的人生目标:“带着一个信号接收器,一个传真发送器,开一辆 Range Rover住到蒙大拿州去——保管你万无一失。”
  “我真的不在乎.” 真正可怕的是,她真的不在乎。
  周日晚上,我到Four Seasons去参加一个慈善义卖活动,这次活动的主题是“爱的颂歌。”每张餐桌都以一对名人命名。比如,“Tammy Faye和 Jim Bakker”, “Narcissus和他本人”, “老Catherine和她的马儿”,“Michael Jackson和 Friends。。。” Al D’Amato霸占了名为“Bill和 Hillary”的那张桌。每张桌子的正中央都摆放了和人名相关的物品引为特色。例如,放在Tammy Faye Bakker桌上的是假睫毛,蓝色眼影,还有唇膏,而Michael Jackson的桌子上摆的则是玩具大猩猩和Porcelana护肤霜。
  Bob Pittman也在场,“爱情万岁,抽烟有罪。”他说着,笑得见牙不见眼。他妻子Sandy却和我一起躲在室内盆景的后边偷偷摸摸的点着香烟。Sandy说,她正准备消失一段时间,到新几内亚去爬爬山。
  Donovan Leitch离开Francis Ford Coppola的餐桌向我走来,“天啊,”他说:“我绝对相信真爱无敌,只不过有时你要多给彼此一点空间。”是啊,在曼哈顿,真正缺少的就是空间。
  哦,顺便说一句,Bob 和Sandy两个,正闹离婚。
作者:草乌 时间:2006-11-20 10:27:56
作者:sanft 时间:2006-11-21 17:28:04
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-21 17:48:03
  sanft: hoho,谢谢,我会帖下去的。
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-22 08:28:02
   Swingin’ Sex?
   I Don’t Think So…
  It all started the way it always does: innocently enough, I was sitting in my apartment, having a sensible lunch of crackers and sardines, when I got a call from an acquaintance, A friend of his had just gone to Le Trapeze, a couples-only sex club, and was amazed. Blown away. There were people naked---having sex---right in front of him, Unlike S&M clubs, where no actual sex occurs, this was the real, juicy tomato. The guy’s girlfriend was kind of freaked out.----although, when another naked woman brushed against her, she “sort of liked it”. According to him.
  In fact, the guy was so into the place that he didn’t want me to write about it because he was afraid that, like most decent places in New York, it would be ruined by publicity.
  I started imagining all sorts of things: Beautiful young hardbody couples. Shy touching. Girls with long, wavy blond hair wearing wreaths made of grape leaves. Boys with perfect white teeth wearing loincloths. made of grape leaves. Me, wearing a super-short, over-one-shoulder, grape-leaf dress. We would walk in with our clothes on and walk out enlightened.
  The club’s answering machine brought me back to reality with a thump.
  “At Le Trapeze, there are no strangers, only friends you haven’t met.” Said a voice of indeterminate gender, which added that there was “a juice bar and a hot and cold buffet.”---things I rarely associate with sex or nudity, in celebration of thanksgiving, “Oriental Night” would be held on November 19. that sounded interesting, except it turned out that Oriental Night meant oriental food, not oriental people.
  I should have dropped the whole idea right then, I shouldn’t have listened to the scarily horny Sallie Tisdale, who in her yuppie-porn book, Talk Dirty to Me, enthuses about public, group sex: “this is a taboo in the truest sense of the word…If sex clubs do what they aim to do, then a falling away will happen. Yes. As is feared, a crumbling of boundaries…the center will not hold.” I should have asked myself, what’s fun about that?
  But,as we all knew, I had to see for myself, and so, on a recent Wednesday night, my calendar listed two events: 9:00 pm. Dinner for the fashion designer Karl Lagerfeld, Bowery Bar; 11:30pm, Le Trapeze sex club, East 27th Street.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-22 08:30:30
  故事的起因往往都很简单,我坐在家里拿饼干和沙丁鱼简单地解决午餐的时候,接到了一个熟人的电话,他的一个朋友刚刚去了Le Trapeze(一家性爱俱乐部),见到面前一丝不挂地疯狂做爱的人群,他朋友完全被吓到了,惊愕的几乎合不拢嘴。这里不是S&M那样干打雷不下雨的鬼地方,这里真实热烈的气氛令人不禁咋舌。那家伙的女朋友被吓得一愣一愣——虽然当一个全身赤条条的女人靠近她,帖在她身上蹭来蹭去的时候,他还是看出她脸上浮着些许满足的神情。
  事实上,对于Le Trapeze,他万分着迷。以至于不愿意让我在媒体上公布这家俱乐部的名字,担心它会像纽约城内一些其他不错的去处一样,毁于济济盛名。
  “在Le Trapeze,没有陌生人,只有素未谋面的朋友。”答录机里传出一个分不清楚性别的声音:“我们还设有果汁吧台和自助餐供应。”----果汁吧台?自助餐???都是些没办法让人联想到性爱和裸体的东西。为了庆祝感恩节,11月19号人们在这里举行了以“东方之夜”为名的聚会,听起来有意思,最终却因为缺乏“保守”的东方人的加入,这个所谓的东方之夜变成了一个驴头不对马嘴的“东方饮食之夜。”
  当时我就应该彻底放弃这个念头,而不是听从那个极端性饥渴的Sallie Tisdale在她那本现世宝作品《talk dirty to me》里对激情四射的群交活动的阐述:“言语无不有禁忌。。。一旦性爱俱乐部完成了它们为之存在的使命,失落就必将接踵而来,没错,就像我们一直担心的那样,边缘一旦粉碎,中心就不复存在。”我当时应该自问:这一切有什么趣味可言?
  但是,你我都知道耳听为虚,眼见为实,于是乎,近期某个周三夜晚的日程上有两项安排:晚上9点整,与流行设计师Karl Lagerfeld在Bowery吧共进晚餐,11点半,东27大街上,Le Trapeze性爱俱乐部里见!
作者:塔斯马尼亚 时间:2006-11-24 14:47:28
  确实很多都和电视不一样,我只看了前面两三集电视,电视主题比较明确,情节也比较连贯一点:),不过确实有很多比较OPEN的画面, 不好意思看下去.但又觉得知道多一点成人的秘密比较好.
作者:塔斯马尼亚 时间:2006-11-24 14:48:43
作者:亦瑶燕伶 时间:2006-11-24 16:53:00
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-24 23:26:01
作者:好赖一棵树 时间:2006-11-25 00:05:00
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 14:09:16
   作者:好赖一棵树 回复日期:2006-11-25 0:05:00 
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 14:11:32
  Everyone, it seems, like to talk about sex, and the Karl Lagerfeld dinner, packed with glam-models and expense-accounted fashion editors, was no exception. In fact, it got our end of the table worked up into a near frenzy, one stunning young woman, with dark curly hair and the sort of Seen-It-All attitude that only twenty year olds can pull off claimed she liked to spend her time going to topless bars, but only “seedy ones like Billy’s Topless” because the girl were “ real”.
  Then everyone agreed that small breasts were better than fake breasts. And a survey was taken: who, among the men at the table, had actually been with a woman who has silicone implants? While no one admitted it, one man, and artist in his mid-thirties, didn’t deny it strongly enough. “you’ve been there,” accused another man, a cherub-faced and very successful hotelier, “and the worst thing is…you…liked…it.”
  “no, I didn’t.” the artist protested.” But I didn’t mind it.”
  Luckily, the first course arrived, and everyone filled up their wineglasses.
  Next round: are messy women better in bed? The hotelier had a theory. “if you walk into a woman’s apartment and nothing’s out of place, you know she is not going to want to stay in bed all day and order in Chinese food and eat it in bed. She’s going to make you get up and eat toast at the kitchen table.”
  I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, because I am literally the messiest person in the world. And I probably have some old containers of General Tso’s Special Chicken lying under my bed at this moment. Unfortunately, all of it was eaten alone. So much for that theory.
  Steaks were served. “the thing that really drives me crazy,” said the artist, “is when I see a woman wearing one of those tartan skirts and high knee socks, I can’t work all day.”
  No,” countered the hotelier, “the worst thing is when you sort of follow a woman down the street and she turns around and she’s as beautiful as you thought she was going to be.. it represents everything you’ll never have in your life.”
  The artist leaned forward. “I once stopped working for five years because of a woman.” He said.
  Silence, No one could top that.
  The chocolate mousse arrived, and so did my date for Le Trapeze. Since Le Trapeze admits couples only---meaning a man and a woman---I had asked my most recent ex-date, Sam, an investment banker, to accompany me. Sam was a good choice because, number one, he was the only man I could get to go with me; number two, he’d already had experience with this kind of thing: a million years ago he had gone to Plato’s Retreat. A strange woman has come up to him and pulled out his unmentionable, His girlfriend, whose idea it had been to go there, ran screaming from the club.
  The talk turned to the inevitable: what kind of people go to a sex club? I seemed to be the only one who didn’t have a clue. Although no one had been to a sex club, everyone at dinner firmly asserted that the clubgoers would generally be “losers from New Jersey.” Someone pointed out that going to a sex club is not the kind of thing you can just do, without a pretty good excuse, e.g., it’s part of your job. This talk wasn’t making me feel any better. I asked the waiter to bring me a shot of tequila.
  Sam and I stood up to go. A writer who covers popular culture gave us a last piece of advice. “it’s going to be pretty awful,” he warned, though he had never been there to such a place himself. “unless you take control, You’ve got to take control of the place. You’ve got to make it happen.”
作者:Harry1028 时间:2006-11-25 15:17:51
  AA, 这小说念着咋觉得味道不大对捏,闷闷的,少点儿什么似滴……
作者:xl679 时间:2006-11-25 15:45:01
作者:xl679 时间:2006-11-25 15:46:00
  i need your help, haw-haw!
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 16:35:01
  AA, 这小说念着咋觉得味道不大对捏,闷闷的,少点儿什么似滴……
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 16:36:40
  作者:xl679 回复日期:2006-11-25 15:45:01 
作者:小秀才 时间:2006-11-25 16:37:59
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-11-25 16:42:39
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-11-25 16:43:56
  作者:xl679 回复日期:2006-11-25 15:45:01 
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 16:54:28
  作者:难也不难 回复日期:2006-11-25 16:42:39 
  我也是先看了N遍电视剧后才看的书,我承认我看原著的第一遍也是耐着性子看下来的,书完全和电视是两码事,但是再看第二遍第三遍,就越觉出原著作者的睿智。 她笔下的世界比电视剧里所表现的要残酷的多,没有一个人可以得到像电视剧里四个女主角那样有结局的爱情。如果电视剧这样结尾,可能编剧会被人砸吧。
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-25 16:58:22
作者:蝴蝶不跳舞 时间:2006-11-25 21:23:52
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 02:09:20
  似乎,每个人都喜欢议论“性”这一话题,在Karl Lagerfeld的晚宴上,光彩照人的名模们和时尚界数一数二的设计师济济一堂,谈话所围绕的仍无一例外的以性事为主题。一个长着黑色卷发的漂亮的年轻女人,脸上写着“看透世事”的沧桑,声称自己喜欢在半裸酒吧里打发时光,而且她看得上眼的只有像“Billy’s Topless”那样下流的地方,因为她拥有“货真价实”没有经过整形手术刀加工过的美丽胴体。当我们谈到这一事实时,整个晚餐的气氛进入了一个近乎狂热的状态。
  接着,每个人都坦言,比起假胸,平胸让人感觉更舒服些。我们做了一项调查:在座的所有男士中,有哪一位曾经和胸部植入硅胶的女性约会过。 然而没有人承认,只有一个三十多岁的画家不曾对此彻底否认。“哈,你和那种女人上过床。”一个长了娃娃脸的事业有成的酒店老板指控道:“最要命的是,你喜欢假胸。”
  下一轮:是不是邋遢女人在床上的表现更精彩? 对此,酒店老板发表了高论:“当你走进一个女人的房间,发现房间里的一切摆设的井井有条且一尘不染,你就可以推断出这个女人不可能愿意正天赖在床上,叫来外卖的中国菜在床上解决三餐,相反,她会想方设法把你从床上弄起来,把你扔到厨房餐桌上去吃土司。”
  侍应生把巧克力慕斯送上来的时候,我和Le Trapeze性爱俱乐部的约会时刻也到了。由于Le Trapeze只允许“夫妻挡”出入——只要是一男一女就没问题——所以我约了前一个男友,投资银行家Sam给我搭伴。Sam是个不错的选择,因为:第一,他是唯一一个我能叫来的男人;第二,他已经拥有了类似的经历。那是许多许多年前,当他步入Plato’s Retreat的那一瞬,一个陌生女人走上前来,二话没说掏出了他的“老二”,而他的女友,也就是主张进入这家俱乐部的那个人,则尖叫着夺门而出。
  Sam和我站起身告辞,要去转战Le Trapeze的时候,一个致力于流行文化创作的作家给了我最后一条建议“后果没准儿会很严重!”他警告我,尽管他一再坚持说自己没有去过那种俱乐部,“除非你自己管好你自己, 在那种地方,你必须主宰一切,记住了吧?一定要把持住你自个儿!”(TNND,真不愧是个作家,这人废话真不是一般的多!唐僧级别的罗嗦)
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 16:36:52
  Le Trapeze was located in a white stone building covered with graffiti. The entrance was discreet, with a rounded metal railing, a downmarket version of the entrance to the Royalton Hotel. A couple was coming out as we were going in, and when the woman saw us, she covered her face with the collar of her coat.
  “Is it fun?” I asked.
  She looked at me in horror and ran into a taxi.
  Inside, a dark-haired young man, wearing a striped rugby shirt, was sitting in a small booth. He looked like he was about eighteen, He didn’t look up.
  “Do we pay you?”
  “it’s eighty-five dollars a couple.”
  “Do you take credit cards?”
  “Cash only.”
  “Can I have a receipt?”
  We had to sign cards saying that we’d abide by the rule of safe sex. We got temporary membership cards, which reminded us that no prostitution, no cameras, and no recording devices were allowed inside.
  While I was expecting steamy sex, the first thing we saw were steaming table---i.e. the aforementioned hot and cold buffet, Nobody was eating, and there was a sign above the buffet table that said, YOU MUST HAVE YOUR LOWER TORSO COVERED TO EAT. Then we saw the manager, Bob, a burly, bearded man in a plain shirt and jeans who looked like he should have been managing a pets ‘R’ Us store in Vermont. Bob told us the club had survived for fifteen years, because of it’s “discretion.” “Also,” he said, “here, no means no.” He told us not to be worried about being voyeurs, that most people start off that way.
  What did we see? Well, there was a big room with a huge air mattress, upon which a few blobby couples gamely went at it; there was a “sex chair” (unoccupied) that looked like a spider; there was chubby woman in a robe, sitting next to a Jacuzzi, smoking; there were couples with glazed eyes ( Night of the living Sex Zombies, I thought); and there were many men who appeared to be having trouble keeping up their end of the bargain. But mostly, there were those damn steaming buffet tables(containing what---mini---hot dogs?), and unfortunately, that’s pretty much all you need to know.
  Le Trapeze was , as the French say, Le Rip-Off.
  By one A.M., people were going home. A woman in a robe informed us she was from Nassau County and said we should come back Saturday night. “Saturday night,” the woman said, “is a smorgasbord.” I didn’t ask if she was talking about the clientele---I was afraid she meant the buffet.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 16:39:11
  Le Trapeze位于一栋雕刻了壁画的白石建筑之内,圆形铁栅栏围住的入口并不引人注目,和Royalton旅馆里那个专门为乡巴佬开设的入口差不多,当我们走进门去的时候,正迎上走出来的一男一女,那女的看见我们,就立刻把脸藏在衣领里。
  当我正期待着狂热的性交时,映入眼帘的确实热气腾腾的餐桌——就是前文所提到的凉菜热菜都具备的自助餐,然而没人有吃东西的兴致,因为餐桌上的标语牌提示道:“务必遮住下体再用餐。”接着我们见到了这里的经理,Bob,一个留胡子的魁梧男人,身穿无条纹衬衫和仔裤。看起来像是佛蒙特州那些Pets ‘R’ Us店的老板。Bob对我们讲,由于谨慎的经营理念,这家俱乐部已经在风风雨雨里存活了15年之久。“还有一条,”他说。“在这里,你说一,就没人敢说二。”大家都怕遇上变态狂,但是他告诉我们,在这个俱乐部里,根本不用担心会有变态佬来败你的兴。“
  我们到底看到了什么?哦,房间宽敞,中间摆着那张巨大的气垫床上,有几对如痴如醉的男女正旁若无人地“爽歪歪”;一张形似蜘蛛的sex chair孤零零地立在当地;一个裹着浴袍胖女人,坐在“极可意”浴缸旁抽烟;一双双目光呆滞如僵尸的眼睛(我想,这就是“与僵尸一起过夜”的意义所在);显然,有许多人正挣扎在道德与伦理的底线;然而房间内最扎眼的,却是那些该死的冒着热气的自助餐桌(似乎餐桌上还摆有那个什么——迷你——热狗?)遗憾的是,对于这个俱乐部,你所能了解的也就只有这些了。
  Le Trapeze这个名字,在法语里,是小偷窃贼诈骗犯的意思。
作者:布蛋蛋 时间:2006-11-26 16:58:10
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 17:04:32
   作者:布蛋蛋 回复日期:2006-11-26 16:58:10 
  小夏热泪盈眶的说:“this is our baby"的时候
作者:ljken1 时间:2006-11-26 19:45:44
  作者:难也不难 回复日期:2006-11-25 16:43:56 
作者:xl679 时间:2006-11-26 19:46:05
  it's a good job!
作者:吃腻了德芙 时间:2006-11-26 19:52:37
  有一集看得我差一点点哭了,就是那个Miranda第一次遇到一个酒保的追求,她根本不信他是真心的,女主角和Mr.Big刚复合,他们之间的恋情在Miranda看来根本没谱,所以她对自己的感情也没信心,可是关键时刻Big作了让大家都感动的一件事,女主角感动不说,Miranda马上冲身出酒吧在雨中去追被她拒绝的酒保,说"maybe I can believe".那时的配乐太棒了,我眼泪汪汪啊......
作者:ljken1 时间:2006-11-26 20:08:15
  作者:ljken1 回复日期:2006-11-26 19:45:44 
    作者:难也不难 回复日期:2006-11-25 16:43:56 
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 20:49:58
  作者:吃腻了德芙 回复日期:2006-11-26 19:52:37 
    有一集看得我差一点点哭了,就是那个Miranda第一次遇到一个酒保的追求,她根本不信他是真心的,女主角和Mr.Big刚复合,他们之间的恋情在Miranda看来根本没谱,所以她对自己的感情也没信心,可是关键时刻Big作了让大家都感动的一件事,女主角感动不说,Miranda马上冲身出酒吧在雨中去追被她拒绝的酒保,说"maybe I can believe".那时的配乐太棒了,我眼泪汪汪啊......
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-26 20:50:59
  作者:xl679 回复日期:2006-11-26 19:46:05 
    it's a good job!
作者:朋友自远方来 时间:2006-11-29 14:24:49
  good,pls continue。
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-30 12:54:41
  作者:朋友自远方来 回复日期:2006-11-29 14:24:49 
    good,pls continue。
作者:sharonht 时间:2006-11-30 16:02:30
    作者:难也不难 回复日期:2006-11-25 16:42:39 
作者:布蛋蛋 时间:2006-11-30 20:22:33
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-30 21:31:25
  今天买到了Candace Bushnell的另外两本小说<four blondes>和<lipstick jungle>,正乐呢。老公笑说:“你就继续读她的书,继续学她的坏点子吧!”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-11-30 21:33:06
  A couple of days later I was at a ladies’ lunch at Mortimers. Once again, the talk turned to sex and my experiences at the sex club.
  “Didn’t you love it?” asked Charlotte, the English journalist. “I’d love to go to a place like that, didn’t it turn you on, watching all those people having sex?”
  “Nope,” I said, stuffing my mouth with a corn fritter topped with salmon eggs.
  “Why not?”
  “You couldn’t really see anything.” I explained.
  “and the men?”
  “That was the worst part.” I said. “ half of them looked like shrinks. I’ll never be able to go to therapy again with out imagining a bearded fat man lying naked and glassy-eyed on a mat on the floor, getting an hour-long blow job. And still not being able to come.”
  Yes, I told Charlotte, we did take our clothes off---but we wore towels, No, we didn’t have sex. No, we didn’t get turned on, even when a tall, attractive, dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties entered the rumpus room and caused a stir. She exposed her bottom like a monkey, and within minutes, she was lost in a tangle of arms and legs. It should have been sexy, but all I could think about were those National Geographic nature films of mating baboons.
  The truth is, exhibitionism and voyeurism are not mainstream events. And neither, for that matter, is S&M, despite what you may have recently read elsewhere. The problem, in the clubs, anyway, always comes down to the people. They’re the actresses who can never find work; the failed opera singers, painters, and writers; the lower-management men who will never get to the middle. People who, should they corner you in a bar, will keep you hostage with tales of their ex-spouses and their digestive troubles. They ‘re the people who can’t negotiate the system. They’re on the fringes, sexually and in life. They’re not necessarily the people with whom you want to share your intimate fantasies.
  Well, the people at Le Trapeze weren’t all pale, pudgy sex zombies: Before we left the club, San and I ran into the attention-grabbing tall woman and her date in the locker room. The man had a clean-cut, all American face and was talkative: He was from Manhattan, he said, and had recently started his own business. He and the woman had been colleagues, he said. As the woman slipped into a yellow business suit, the man smiled and said, “she ful-filled her fantasy tonight.” The woman glared at him and stalked out of the locker room.
  A few days later, Sam called and I screamed at him. Then he asked, hadn’t the whole thing been my idea?
  Then he asked, hadn’t I learned anything?
  And I said yes, I had, I told him I had learnt that when it comes to sex, there’s no place like home.
  But then you knew that, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Sam?
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-01 14:37:23
  是的,我告诉Charlotte, 我们的确脱光了衣服——却把毛巾裹在身上; 不,我们没有做爱,甚至没有任何做爱的欲望, 当一个身材窈窕,引人注目的三十几岁的黑发女郎走进大厅的时候,人群里出现了一阵骚动,她像个猴子一样光着下身,几分钟之后,就小时在乱七八糟的胳膊和大腿的丛林里。这样的场面,在想像中,应该是性感无比的,但是我当时脑子里闪现的全都是国家地理杂志上狒狒交配的图景。
  哦,Le Trapeze俱乐部里的人并非全都是矮胖而苍白的僵尸:离开前,Sam和我在更衣室里再次碰到了那个引人注目的窈窕女郎,以及她的男伴——一个长着轮廓分明的美式脸庞的美男,对我们侃侃而谈:他说他来自Manhattan, 最近刚刚创立了自己的事业。那窈窕女郎则与他共事多年,正当女郎往自己身上套上一件黄色职业正装的时候,那男人笑了,对我们讲:“她今晚可是实现了她所有的性幻想啊。”
作者:燕七 时间:2006-12-01 14:38:40
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-01 14:44:31
  作者:燕七 回复日期:2006-12-1 14:38:40 
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-01 15:31:29
   We Loved a Serial Dater
  On a recent afternoon, seven women gathered in Manhattan, over wine, cheese, and cigarettes, to animatedly discuss the one thing they had in common: a man. Specifically, an Eligible Man of Manhattan, a man we’ll call “Tom Peri.”
  Tom Peri is forty-three years old, five feet, ten inches tall, with straight brown hair. There is nothing remarkable about his appearance, save for a penchant, a few years ago, for dressing in black Armani suits paired with wacky suspenders. He comes from a wealthy manufacturing family and grew up on Fifth Avenue and in Bedford, New York. He lives in a modern high-rise on Fifth Avenue.
  Over the last fifteen years, Peri, who is almost always referred to by his last name only, has become something of a legend in New York. He’s not exactly a womanizer, because he’s always trying to get married. Peri is, rather, one of the city’s most accomplished serial daters, engaging in up to twelve “relationships” a year, But after two days or two months, the inevitable happens, something goes wrong, and, he says, “I get dumped.”
  For a certain type of woman---thirtyish, ambitious, well placed socially---dating Peri, or avoiding his attentions, has become nothing less than a rite of passage, sort of like your first limo ride and your first robbery, combined.
  Even among the city’s other notorious ladies’ men, Peri stands out, for one thing, he appears to be holding far fewer cards. He has neither the well-bred good looks of Count Erik Wachtmeister nor the free-flowing cash of Mort Zuckerman.
  I want to know, what’s Peri got?
  Each of the women I contacted had been involved with Peri---either intimately or as an object of his ardent affections---and each said she had dumped him. None refused my request to get together for a session of talking about Peri. Each woman, perhaps, had something…unresolved about Peri. Maybe they wanted him back. Maybe they wanted him dead.
作者:rogeripw 时间:2006-12-01 15:48:52
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-01 16:30:15
   We Loved a Serial Dater
  不久前的一个下午,几位女士聚集在曼哈顿,在喝酒,抽烟,吃芝士的同时,热热闹闹地议论着她们曾共有的:一个男人,说具体一些,是曼哈顿的一个钻石王老五,我们在这里称呼他为“Tom Peri.”
  Tom Peri,45岁,身高五尺十寸,长着棕色直发。外表毫无吸引人之处。且在穿衣打扮方面有一个怪癖,很多年前曾因为穿了一件黑色Armani正装配一条古怪的吊带裤而为人讥笑许久。他生在一个富有的家庭,长在第五大道和Bedford,现今,他在第五大道上一座摩登大厦里安家。
  一类三十几岁,野心勃勃,拥有相当不错的社会地位的女性,把和 Peri约会,或者想尽办法地避免吸引他的注意这样的事情视作人生头等大事。是一种第一次豪华轿车上兜风的喜悦和第一次实施抢劫的紧张相叠加的复杂感受。
  就算和城里其他那些嗜色如命的花花公子混在一起,Peri还是拔尖儿的那个,虽然他的所谓优势远比别人小的多,他既不是Count Erik Wachtmeister那样的美男。也没有Mort Zuckerman手上那么多的可供自由支配的现金。
  每一个个我所接触的和Peri交往过的女人——无论是Peri的亲密恋人或是他一时迷恋的对象——都说是她甩掉了Peri. 每个人都接受了我的邀请,聚在一起开展有关Peri的讨论。 也许,这里的每个女人都抱有对Peri的一丝幻想,也许她们想和他破镜重圆,也许想要他死得难看。
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 00:01:15
  We met at the home of Sarah, a filmmaker who used to be a model, “until I got sick of the bullshit and gained twenty pounds.” She wore a dark pinstripe suit. “when you look over the list of guys you’ve dated, Peri is the one guy that doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “ you think, what was that about?”
  But before we could even get to the juicy bits, we made a disturbing discovery. Although none of the women had heard from Peri for months, that morning he had called four of them.
  “I don’t think he knows anything, I think it was just coincidence,” said Magda. Magda has been friends with Peri for years---in fact, most of her girlfriends are former dates of Peri’s, who she met through him.
  “he knows everything about us,” one woman said. “he’s like Daryl Van Horne in The Witches of Eastwick.”
  “Van Horney is more like it.” Said another. We opened the wine.
  “the thing with Peri is this,” said Sarah. “the reason he’s so charming is, when you first meet him, he’s articulate, he is funny---and, he is available at all times, because he doesn’t work. What’s more fun than a guy who says, ‘Meet me for lunch,’then you got back to work, then he says ‘Meet me for cocktails at six’? when was the last time you went out with a guy who actually wanted to see you three times a day?”
  “‘ cocktails’ is such a loaded word,” said Magda. “it’s like Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant.”
  Jackie, a magazine editor, said, “ when I met him, we started seeing each other instantly---five nights a week. He won’t leave you alone.”
  “he’s smart, because the thing that he does is, he loves the phone.” Said Sarah.” Which to a woman, you think, he must really be into me, because he calls you ten times a day. And then you start to disregard the fact that he’s like a funny-looking little thing.”
  “then you start to look at his suspenders, and you think, My God,” said Maeve, a poet who is half Irish.
  “then you begin to realize he’s not funny,” said Sarah, “he has a good stack of jokes, but once you’ve heard them a million times, they get really annoying. It’s like a loop, he’s looping himself.”
  “he told me that I was the only girl he ever went out with who got his jokes.” Said Maeve, “and I didn’t think they are funny.”
  “and then you see his apartment. Those twenty-five doormen---what’s that about?”
  “you wonder why he doesn’t just throw out all his furniture and go to the Door Store instead.”
  “once he showed me these napkin holders he had gotten. They were in the shape of handcuffs. Like this was how he was going to seduce a girl, with napkin holders.”
作者:mirror_mask 时间:2006-12-02 00:22:05
  so great!
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 01:29:39
  “他对我们了如执掌。”一个女人说。“他就像电影《紫屋魔恋》里的Daryl Van Horne。”
  “说他是Van Horney会更贴切些。”另一个女人说着,我们打开了酒瓶盖儿。
  “和Peri在一起的感觉就是这样,”Sarah说,“他如此吸引人的原因是,你第一次遇见他,他是那么健谈和风趣——而且,他随时都有空,因为他不工作。他对你说‘和我共进午餐好么?’, 完了当你回去工作的时候,他又提议‘六点整和我一起喝鸡尾酒怎样?还有什么比这样的男人更有意思呢?回想一下,上次你和一个与你‘一朝不见,如三秋兮’的男人约会是什么时候的事情了?”
  “‘鸡尾酒’这个词演变至今已经具有了一个特殊的意义。”Magda说。“就像Katharine Hepburn和Cary Grant一样,已经不仅仅是名字,简直成了某种标语。”
  Jackie, 一个杂志社编辑,说:“我们刚一认识就马上约会—— 一周有五个晚上都腻在一起,他从不让你一个人呆着。”
  “而后你在不经意间看到他那可笑的吊裤带。 ‘我的老天爷啊!’你会吓一大跳。”Maeve,一个拥有一半爱尔兰血统的女诗人说。
  “你会纳闷他为什么不扔掉房子里所有难看的家具,然后住到Door Store(家具公司的名字)去。”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 15:10:46
  So how does it all start?
  Jackie’s story was typical. “ I was waiting for a table at Blue Ribbon,” she said. “he walked up to me and started talking. He was instantly funny. I thought, Omigod, we’re really clicking. But I will probably never hear from him again.” Everyone nodded. After all, hadn’t we all been there?
  “He called at something like eight the next morning,” Jackie said.
  “’want to go out to lunch?” he asked. He asks you to lunch at 44 the next day.”
  Sapphire, a blond divorced mom, laughed. “he didn’t take me to 44 until the next day.”
  “while you think he’s still funny and clever, he asks you to go away with him for the weekend,” said Jackie.
  “he asked me to marry him on something like the tenth day,” said Sarah. “that was pretty quick, even for him.”
  “he took me to dinner at his parents’ house on like the third date.” Said Britta, a tall, rangy brunette who works as a photo rep and is now happily married. “it was just me and his parents and the butler. The next day, I remember I was sitting on his bed, and he was showing me home movies of him as a kid. He was begging me to marry him. He was saying, “see, I can be a serious guy.” And then he ordered some cheesy Chinese food. I thought, marry you? What, are you smoking something?”
  Ramona sighed. “on the other hand, I had just broken up with someone, and I was pretty upset. He was always there.”
  A pattern emerged. The women who had dated Peri had all just left their husbands or long-term boyfriends when Peri found them. Or, was it they who found him?
  “he’s rebound man,” Sarah said, definitively. “it’s like, ‘excuse me, are you broken? Let’s get intimate.’”
  “he’s the emotional Mayflower,” said Maeve. “he gets women from point A to point B. you arrive at Plymouth Rock feeling enormously better.”
  His ability to empathize was a strong point. The phrase “he’s just like a girl” came up over and over again. “he reads more fashion magazine than most women,” said Sapphire, “and he’s much more willing to fight you battles than he is his own.”
  “he’s extremely confident,” Meave continued. “I think it’s a mistake when men present themselves as helpless idiots who can’t even find their socks, Peri says, ‘I’m totally secure. Lean on me.’ And you think, what a relief! Really, it’s all that women want. Most men don’t understand that. At least Peri is clever enough to affect that.”
  And then there’s the sex. “he’s awesome in bed.” Said Sarah.
  “he’s unbelievably great at making out,” said Sapphire.
  “ you thought he was awesome?” Jackie asked. “ I thought he was awful. Can we please talk about his feet?”
  Nevertheless, so far, Peri seemed to be the embodiment of the two things women always say they want most---a guy who can talk and be understanding like a woman, but who also knows hot to be a man in the sack. So what went wrong?
  “It’s like this,” said Maeve. “as long as you are neurotic and crazy, he’s great. But once he solves all your problems, he becomes the problem.”
  “he get incredibly mean,” said one woman. The others nodded.
  “once,” said Jackie, “ when I said I was size eight, Peri said, ‘there’s no way you are a size eight. You are a size ten, at least. I know what a size eight looks like, and believe me, you are no size eight.’”
  “he was always telling me to lose fifteen pounds,” said Sarah, “and when I went out with him, that was the thinnest I’d been in years.”
  “I think when men tell women to lose weight, it’s a diversion from their own lack of size in certain areas.” One of the women added dryly.
  Meave remembered a ski trip to Sun Valley. “ Peri did everything right. He bought the tickets he booked the condo. It was going to be great.” But they started fighting in the limo to the airport---they wanted to sit on the same side. By the time they got to the plane, the stewardess had to separate them (“by that time, we were arguing about who got to breath more air.” Meave said.) they fought on the slopes. On the second day, Meave began packing her begs. “ he said, ‘ha ha ha, there’s a blizzard outside, you can’t leave,’” Meave recalled. “I said, ‘ha ha ha, I am going to take a bus.”
  A month later, Meave went back to her husband. Her situation was not unusual---many of the women ended up dumping Peri, only to go back to the men they had broken up with.
  But that didn’t mean that Peri went away. “there were faxes, letters, and hundreds of phone calls, “ said Sapphire. “ it was sort of awful, he does have a huge heart, and he’s going to be a great guy someday.”
  “I kept all his letters,” Sarah said. “they were so touching. You could practically see the streaks of his tears on the pages.” She left the room and returned seconds later holding a letter. She read aloud: “ ‘You don’t owe me your love, but I hope you’ll have the courage to step forward and embrace mine. I don’t send you flowers because I don’t want to share or demean your love with objects not of my creation.’” Sarah smiled.
  Post-Peri, the women claimed they had uniformly done well. Jackie said she was dating her personal trainer; Magda had published her first novel; Ramona was married and pregnant; Meave had opened a café; Sapphire had rediscovered an old love; Sarah said she was happy to be pursuing a twenty-seven-year-old boy-toy.
  As for Peri, he recently moved abroad, in search of fresh marriage prospects. One of the women had heard he got dumped by an English woman who had really wanted to marry a duke. “he always dates the wrong women,” Sapphire said.
  Six months ago, Peri came back for a visit and took Sarah out to dinner. “he took my hand in his,” she said, “and he was saying to his friend, ‘she’s the only woman I ever loved.’ For Old times’ sake, I went back to his apartment for a drink, and he asked me to marry him so seriously, I couldn’t believe it. I thought he was lying, so I decided to torture him.
  “he told me, ‘I don’t want you to see any other men. And I won’t see any other women.”
  “I said, ‘okay,’ thinking, how’s that going to work? He lives in Europe and I live in New York. But the next morning , he called me up and said, ‘you realize you are my girlfriend now.’
  “I said, ‘okay, Peri, that’s cool.’”
  He went back to Europe , and, Sarah said, she forgot about the whole thing. One morning, she was in bed with her new boyfriend when the phone rang. It was Peri. While Sarah was talking to him, her boyfriend said, “ do you want some coffee?” Peri went nuts.
  “who’s there?” he said.
  “a friend,” Sarah said.
  “at ten in the morning? You are sleeping with another guy? We are getting married and you are sleeping with another guy?” he hung up, but a week later he called back.
  “are you ready?” he asked
  “for what?” Sarah said.
  “We are getting married, aren’t we? You are not still seeing someone, are you?”
  “listen, Peri, I don’t see a ring on my finger,” Sarah said. “why don’t you send a messenger over to Harry Winston to pick something up, and then we’ll talk.”
  Peri never called Harry Winston, and he didn’t call Sarah again for months. She said she sort of missed him. “I adore him,” she said, “ I feel compassion for him because he’s totally fucked up.”
  It was getting dark outside, but nobody wanted to leave. They all wanted to stay, transfixed by the idea of a man who like Tom Peri, but not Tom Peri.
作者:sand_storm 时间:2006-12-02 15:13:12
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 18:24:29
  Jackie的故事很典型。“我在Blue Ribbon等着别人给我腾位子的时候。”她说。“他向我走过来和我搭讪。他这个人看起来很意思,我想,老天啊,我们两个简直是天生一对。但是我完全有可能以后再也见不到他了。” 在座的每个人都点头表示认可。毕竟,我们都曾经遇到过相同的境况。
  Sapphire, 一个长了金色头发的单身妈妈,笑着说:“他可没那么着急上火地请我到44餐厅去吃饭。”
  “认识到差不多第十天,他就迫不及待地向我求婚。” Sarah说。“这一切来的太快太突然了,即使对他来说亦是如此。”
  “第三次约会时,他就带我到他父母的家里去吃晚餐。”已经觅得佳婿的Britta说:“除了我,他父母,和男管家之外,没有别人在场。第二天,我记得我坐在他的床上,看他给我播放他孩提时代拍下的家庭录影。他求我嫁给他。他说:‘看着吧,我会是一个靠得住的男人。’ 说完,他转身去打电话预定中国菜,我当时心想。嫁给你?别开玩笑了,你的脑袋是不是让驴踢了?”
  他在女性心理方面的本事让人惊异不已,在我们的交谈中,“他就像个女人”这句对Peri的描述反复出现。 “他比大多数女人更爱阅读时尚杂志。”Sapphire说,“他时刻准备为你而战,而不是为他自己。”
  “他极度自信,”Meave继续说,“我认为,当一个男人白痴到连找一双袜子都要依靠女人的时候,就表示这男人烂到没救了。 但Peri却说,‘我绝对可靠,下半辈子你完全不用发愁,只用依靠我就行了。’于是你揣摩,‘这简直太窝心了’!的确,没有哪个女人不想找个可以终身依靠的伴侣。但大多数的男人却弄不明白这一点。Peri却能使出这聪明的一招攻破女人的心里防线。”
  六个月前,Peri回过一次纽约,还约了 Sarah一起出去吃饭。“他拉住我的手,对他的朋友说:‘这是我唯一爱过的女人’”Sarah说:“看在过去的份上,我跟他去他的公寓喝杯小酒,他却郑重其事地向我求婚了。当时我怀疑他的诚意,以为他不过是说谎而已,于是决定了要折磨他一下。”
  他回到欧洲, Sarah随即把这一回事抛到了爪洼国。一天早上,她正和新男友躺在床上,电话响了,是Peri打来的。Sarah同他通电话的时候,她的男朋友问:“你想喝点咖啡么?” Peri立即发火了。
  “听着,Peri,我手指上可没带什么戒指。”Sarah说,“你干吗不打个电话到Harry Winston去给我买只戒指来,然后我们再说结婚的事。”
  Peri没有打电话给Harry Winston,接下来的几个月中也没有联系Sarah. 她说自己有些想念他:“我很喜欢他,”她说,“我很同情他的遭遇,这一阵子他过得实在太不如意了。”
  外面,夜幕已经降临。但是没有人想要离开。大家都呆呆地立在那里,回味这个男子的留在她们记忆中的形象,与 Tom Peri有几分相似,但决不是Tom Peri。
作者:punkxxx 时间:2006-12-02 19:18:14

作者:kyeng 时间:2006-12-02 19:20:43
  “But how do you get attached when you decide you want to?”
     Honey, you leave town.
  我觉得就是回答上句的而已阿。 honey..if u wish to get attached when u decide u want to, just leave town--namely nyc.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 19:31:57
  作者:kyeng 回复日期:2006-12-2 19:20:43 
    “But how do you get attached when you decide you want to?”
       Honey, you leave town.
    我觉得就是回答上句的而已阿。 honey..if u wish to get attached when u decide u want to, just leave town--namely nyc.
  哇 ,多谢指点。
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-02 21:36:31
  请与我联系,QQ 33419123,我目前能找到的,符合这个要求的有几集,101,102,106,107,401。
  Saturday Night) Cuts of the girls, all getting ready to go out. Ext. walking on a NY street (evening).
  Kristy MacColl: "In These Shoes" (From the CD "Tropical Brainstorm") playing on the background.
  Carrie (V.O.): If you are single, there's one thing you should always take with you when you go out on a Saturday night?your friends.
  Carrie: Why are we walking so fast?
  Samantha: Really, are we in that big of a hurry to get to an engagement party?
  Charlotte: What on earth you guys want to go?
  Miranda: I did until I saw this invitation.
  Carrie: Here, let me see that again, two souls one thought? Wow! that is sappy!, that is totally not like Danny.
  Miranda: Must have been her idea. Two souls one pushy fiance?
  Charlotte: Oh come on it's beautiful, it's a big romantic gesture to express how they feel about each other.
  Carrie: If two people have only one thought between them something is very wrong. Whoop cab.
  Samantha: I remember when Danny had more than one thought, and they all involved going up my ass.
  Charlotte: You had sex with Danny?
  Samantha: Yeah he's cute, straight, we've known him for ten years. Haven't we all had sex with Danny?
  Carrie: Oh, yeah that one weekend that I was bored.
  Charlotte: Just a new year's eve kiss.
  Miranda: I showed him a boob in a coat-check room.
  Carrie: Just one?
  Miranda: I sensed he couldn't commit. We're over here.
  Danny's engagement party. background music playing From the CD "The DJ Rodriguez Football Club": "My Magic Carpet"
  Miranda: Baby lamb chops, this is quite a spread!
  Carrie: Two souls, one big budget.
  Carrie (V.O.) There he was, the fiance du jour.
  Danny: Hey look who's here!
  Carrie and Miranda: Congratulations!
  Danny: Thanks! This is my other half, Hailey.
  Carrie and Miranda: Congratulations!
  Danny: Hailey, this is Carrie and Charlotte.
  Carrie and Miranda: Miranda!
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-02 21:40:15
    请与我联系,QQ 33419123,我目前能找到的,符合这个要求的有几集,101,102,106,107,401。
    Saturday Night) Cuts of the girls, all getting ready to go out. Ext. walking on a NY street (evening).
    Kristy MacColl: "In These Shoes" (From the CD "Tropical Brainstorm") playing on the background.
    Carrie (V.O.): If you are single, there's one thing you should always take with you when you go out on a Saturday night?your friends.
    Carrie: Why are we walking so fast?
    Samantha: Really, are we in that big of a hurry to get to an engagement party?
    Charlotte: What on earth you guys want to go?
    Miranda: I did until I saw this invitation.
    Carrie: Here, let me see that again, two souls one thought? Wow! that is sappy!, that is totally not like Danny.
    Miranda: Must have been her idea. Two souls one pushy fiance?
    Charlotte: Oh come on it's beautiful, it's a big romantic gesture to express how they feel about each other.
    Carrie: If two people have only one thought between them something is very wrong. Whoop cab.
    Samantha: I remember when Danny had more than one thought, and they all involved going up my ass.
    Charlotte: You had sex with Danny?
    Samantha: Yeah he's cute, straight, we've known him for ten years. Haven't we all had sex with Danny?
    Carrie: Oh, yeah that one weekend that I was bored.
    Charlotte: Just a new year's eve kiss.
    Miranda: I showed him a boob in a coat-check room.
    Carrie: Just one?
    Miranda: I sensed he couldn't commit. We're over here.
    Danny's engagement party. background music playing From the CD "The DJ Rodriguez Football Club": "My Magic Carpet"
    Miranda: Baby lamb chops, this is quite a spread!
    Carrie: Two souls, one big budget.
    Carrie (V.O.) There he was, the fiance du jour.
    Danny: Hey look who's here!
    Carrie and Miranda: Congratulations!
    Danny: Thanks! This is my other half, Hailey.
    Carrie and Miranda: Congratulations!
    Danny: Hailey, this is Carrie and Charlotte.
    Carrie and Miranda: Miranda!
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 22:29:06
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-02 22:50:22
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-02 22:59:46
  作者:难也不难 回复日期:2006-12-2 22:50:22 
作者:花开的时节 时间:2006-12-03 10:44:39
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-03 15:47:06
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-03 16:09:29
  to 花开的时节: 欢迎啊~~:)
  to 难也不难: 可能我的耐受力不强吧,让我看剧本,我可觉得是个苦差事。看不下去的。。。sex and the city的全剧本要是在伊甸园论坛找不到的话,我估计在别的地方也很难找到了。
作者:老踹归来 时间:2006-12-03 16:22:26
  “Relationships in New York are about detachment,” she said. “But how do you get attached when you decide you want to?”
     Honey, you leave town.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-03 16:42:54
  作者:老踹归来 回复日期:2006-12-3 16:22:26 
    “Relationships in New York are about detachment,” she said. “But how do you get attached when you decide you want to?”
       Honey, you leave town.
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-03 17:03:28
作者:guying521 时间:2006-12-03 17:23:07
作者:sadover 时间:2006-12-06 12:23:00
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-06 15:05:57
   Manhattan Wedlock:
   Never-Married Women,
   Toxic Bachelors
  Lunch the other day. Vicious gossip with a man I’d just meet. We were discussing mutual friends, a couple. He knew the husband, I know the wife. I’d never met the husband, and I hadn’t seen the wife in years( except to run into her occasionally on the street), but as usual, I knew everything about the situation.
  “it’s going to end badly,” I said. “he was na&iuml;ve, a country mouse. He came in from Boston and he didn’t know anything about her and she jumped at the opportunity, she’d already gone through so many guys in New York and she had a reputation. No guy in New York would have married her.”
  I attacked my fried chicken, warming up to the subject. “women in New York know, they know when they have to get married, and that’s when they do it. Maybe they’ve slept with too many guys, or they know nothing’s ever going to really happen with their career, or maybe they really do want kid. Until then, they put it off for as long as they can. Then they have that moment, and if they don’t take it…” I shrugged. “that’s it, chances are, they will never get married.”
  The other guy at the table, corporate, doting-dad typing who lives in Westchester, was looking at us in horror. “but what about love?” he asked.
  I looked at him pityingly, “I don’t think so.”
  When it comes to finding a marriage partner, New York has its own particularly cruel mating rituals, as complicated and sophisticated as those in an Edith Wharton novel. Everyone knows the rules---but no one wants to talk about them, the result is that New York has bred a particular type of single woman---smart, attractive, successful, and…never married. She is in her late thirties or early forties, and, if empirical knowledge is good for anything, she probably never will get married.
  This is not about statistics. Or exceptions, we all know about the successful playwright who married the beautiful fashion designer a couple of years older than he is. But when you are beautiful and successful and rich and “know everyone,” the normal rules don’t apply.
  What is, on the other hand, you are forty and pretty and you are a television producer or have your own PR company, but you still live in a studio and sleep on a foldout couch---the nineties equivalent of Mary Tyler Moore? Except, unlike Mary Tyler Moore, you’ve actually gone to bed with all those guys instead of demurely kicking them out at 12:02am? What happens to those women?
  There are thousands, maybe tens of thousands of women like this in the city. We all know lots of them, and we all agree they are great. They travel, they pay taxes, they will spend four hundred dollars on a pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals.
  “there is nothing wrong with these women,” said Jerry, thirty-nine, a corporate lawyer who happened to marry one of these smart women, three years older than he is. “they are not crazy or neurotic, they are not Fatal Attraction.” Jerry paused. “why do I know so many great woman who aren’t married. And no great guys? Let’s face is, the unmarried guys in New York suck.”
   THE M&M
  “here’s the deal,” Jerry said. “there’s a window of opportunity for women to get married in New York, somewhere between the age of twenty-six and thirty-five. Or maybe thirty-six.” We agreed that if a woman’s been married once, she can always get married again; there’s something about knowing how much to close the deal.
  “but all of a sudden. When women get to be thirty-seven or thirty-eight, there’s all this…stuff,” he said. “Baggage, they’ve been around too long, their history works against them. If I were single and I found out that a woman had gone out with Mort Zuckerman or ‘Marvin’(a publisher)---the M&Ms---forget it. Who wants to be twentieth on that line? And then if they pull any of those other stunts, like children out of wedlock or rehab stays---there’s a problem.”
  Jerry told a story: Last summer, he was at a small dinner in Hamptons. The guests were in TV and movies, he and his wife were trying to fix up a forty-year-old former model with a guy who had just gotten divorced. The two were talking, and suddenly something came up about Mort Zuckerman, and then Marvin, and suddenly Jerry and his wife were watching the guy turn off.
  “there’s a list of toxic bachelors in New York,” said Jerry, “and they are deadly.”
  Later in the day, I relay the story to Anna, who is thirty-six, and who has habit of disagreeing with everything men say. All guys want to sleep with her, and she’s constantly chewing them out for being shallow. She’s sated the M&Ms and she knows Jerry. When I tell her the story, she screams, “Jerry is just jealous, he’d like to be like those guys, except he doesn’t have the money or the power to pull it off. Scratch the surface and every guy in New York wants to be Mort Zuckerman.”
  George, thirty-seven, an investment banker, is another guy who sees the toxic bachelors as a problem, “these guys---the plastic surgeon, that Times editor, the crazy guy who owns those fertility clinics---they all take out the same pool of women and it never goes anywhere,” he said, “yeah, if I met a woman who had gone out with all those guys, I wouldn’t like it.”
  “if you are Diane Sawyer, you will always be able to get married.” Said George. “but even women who are A’s and A-‘S can miss out, the problem is, in New York, people self-select down to smaller and smaller groups. You are dealing with a crowd of people who are enormously privileged, and their standards are incredibly high.
  “And then there are all your friend. Look at you,” George said. “there’s nothing wrong with any of the guys you’ve gone out with. But we always give you shit about them.”
  That was true. All of my boyfriends have been wonderful in their own way, but my friends have found fault with every one of them, mercilessly chewing me out of putting up with any of their perceived, but in my mind excusable, flaws. Now, I was finally alone, and all my friends were happy.
  Two days later, I ran into George at a party. “it’s all about having children,” he said. “if you want to get married, it’s to have kids, and you don’t want to do it with someone older than thirty-five, because then you have to have kids immediately, and then that’s all it about.”
  I decided to check with Peter, forty-two, a writer, with whom I’ve had two dates. He agreed with George. “it’s all about age and biology,” he said. “you just can’t understand how immense the initial attraction is to a woman of childbearing years. For a woman who’s older, forty maybe, it’s going to be harder because you are not going to feel that strong, initial attraction. You will have to see them a lot before you want to sleep with them, and then it’s about something else.”
  Sex lingerie, perhaps?
  “I think the issue of unmarried, older women is conceivably the biggest problem in New York City.” Peter snapped, then thoughtfully added, “it provides torment for so many women, and a lot of them are in denial.”
  Peter told a story. He has a woman friend, forty-one. She’d always gone out with extremely sexy guys and just had a good time, then she went out with a guy who was twenty and was mercilessly mocked. Then she went out with another sexy guy her age, and he left her, and suddenly she couldn’t get anymore dates. She had a complete physical breakdown and couldn’t keep her job and had to move back to Iowa to live with her mother. This is beyond every women’s worst nightmare, and it’s not a story that makes men feel bad.
  Roger was sitting in a restaurant on the Upper East Side, feeling good and drinking red wine. He’s thirty-nine, and he runs his own fund and lives on Park Avenue in a classic-six apartment. He was thinking about that I will call the mid-thirty power flip.
  “when you are a young guy in your twenties and early thirties, women are controlling the relationships,” Roger explained. “By the time you get to be an eligible man in your late thirties, you feel like you are being devoured by women.” In other words, suddenly the guy has all the power. It can happen overnight.
  Roger said he had gone to a cocktail party earlier in the evening , and, when he walked in, there were several single women in their mid-to late thirties, all Upper East Side blond, wearing black cocktail dresses, and one wittier than the next. “you know that there’s nothing you can say that’s wrong,” Roger said. “for women, it’s desperation combined with reaching their sexual peak. It’s a very volatile combination, you see that look in their eyes---possession at any cost mixed with a healthy respect for cash flow---and you feel like they are going to Lexis and Nexis you as soon as you leave the room. The worst thing is, most of these women are really interesting because they didn’t just go and get married. But when a man sees that look in their eyes---how can you feel passionate?”
  Back to Peter, who was working himself into a frenzy over Alec Baldwin. “the problemis expectations. Older women don’t want to settle for what’s still available. They can’t find guys who are cool and vital, so they say screw it---I’d rather be alone. No, I don’t feel sorry for anyone who has expectations they can’t meet. I feel sorry for the loser guys who these women won’t look at. What they really want is Alec Baldwin. There isn’t one woman in New York who hasn’t turned down ten wonderful, loving guys because they were too fat or they weren’t powerful enough or they weren’t rich enough or indifferent enough. But those really sexy guys the women are holding out for are interested in guys in their mid-twenties.”
  By now, Peter was practically screaming. “why don’t those women marry a fat guy? Why don’t they marry a big, fat tub of lard?”
  I asked that very question to Charlotte, the English journalist. “I will tell you why,” she said. “I’ve gone out with some of these guys---the ones who are short, fat and ugly---and it doesn’t make any difference. They are just as unappreciative and self-centered as the good-looking ones.”
  “by the time you get to your mid-thirties and you are not married, you think, why should I settle?” Charlotte said. She said she’d just turned down a date with a beautiful eligible, recently divorced forty-one-year-old banker because his unmentionable was too small. “Index finger,” she said.
  Then Sarah beeped in. she’d just gotten money to make her first independent film, and she was ecstatic. “this idea of women not being able to get married? It’s so small-minded, I can’t even deal with it. If you want to get these guys, you have to shut up. You have to sit there and shut up and agree with everything they say.”
  Luckily, my friend Amalita called and explained it all to me. Explained why terrific women are often alone, and not happy about it, but not exactly desperate about it, either. “oh honey” she cooed into the phone. She was in a good mood because she’d had sex the night before, with a twenty-four-year-old law student. “everyone knows that men in New York make great friends and lousy husbands. In South America, where I came from, we have an expression: better alone than badly accompanied.”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-06 15:07:34
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-06 16:20:05
作者:难也不难 时间:2006-12-06 16:21:22
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-06 17:19:49
作者:蝴蝶不跳舞 时间:2006-12-06 18:02:09
作者:huangjerry 时间:2006-12-06 20:13:53
   谢谢你帮我的翻译 所以帮你顶下~!~哈哈
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-07 17:18:49
   Manhattan Wedlock:
   Never-Married Women,
   Toxic Bachelors
  邻座一个家住westchester, “模范爹地”模样的男人用惊恐的眼神望着我们:“可爱情呢?”他插嘴问道。
  说到寻找终身伴侣这档子事儿,纽约城自有它特有而残酷的配对法则。像Edith Wharton小说里描述的那样复杂而世故。每个人都知晓这套法则——但没有人愿意把它说三道四,结果导致了纽约城里出现了特殊的一批单身女性——机智聪颖,富有魅力,事业有成,却。。。从不曾步入围城。她们的年龄介于三十好几与四十出头之间。而且,如果说久经考验的这套配对法则普遍适用的话,她们将永远不可能拥有踏上红地毯的那一天。
  从另一方面来说,如果你年届四十,相貌出众,稳坐电视制作人的职位,或者拥有自己的公关公司,却仍然住工作间睡折叠床。——九十年代的Mary Tyler Moore秀? 或许,与Mary Tyler Moore不同,你事实上和那些男人上了床,而不是在深夜12点02分的时候把他们毫不留情地从你家里一脚踢出来。这样的一些女性,她们的未来将会是什么样子?
  纽约城里有成千上万这样的女性。我们都认识她们其中的一些,也承认她们个个都是人中翘楚,她们自助履行,自主纳税,毫不吝惜地把四百块大洋花在一双Manolo Blahnik家的凉鞋上。
   THE M&M
  “就像是一项交易,” Jerry说,“在纽约,26至35,或者36岁的女人,是有机会结婚的。” 我们都说,一旦一个女人曾结过一次婚,就永不愁再嫁。关键是你了解如何完成这笔交易。
  “但是突然之间,一个女人到了37,38的年纪,就变的有点。。。” 他说。“恶心的老三八,她们在外边放浪了太久,她们的过去开始跟她们作对,如果一个单身男人遇到一个曾经和Mort Zuckerman以及‘Marvin’——我们且在这里称他们为‘双M’——上过床的女人,你说,他还能对她产生什么兴趣么?没人愿意在自己女人的约会名单上排到二十几位。要是她们再跟你耍什么花招,领个私生子什么的出来,或是吸毒成瘾要进戒毒所——那就够你受的了。”
  “在纽约,有一大堆这样的毒瘤王老五”Jerry说。 “对想结婚的女人来说,和他们有什么瓜葛,无疑是对未来婚姻致命的打击。”
  晚些时候,我把Jerry的说辞转述给Anna, Anna36岁,习惯对男人所说的话持怀疑否定的态度。男人都想跟她风流,她却懂得在男人们将她整个吞掉之前,把他们先清理出去。她约会过“双M”。 同时也认识Jerry. 在我讲述完Jerry故事的那一刻,她嚷嚷起来:“Jerry不过是嫉妒罢了。事实上,他希望自己能像 ‘双M’那样。可是他一没钱,二没权,真要探究真相的话,纽约的男人都希望自己是Mort Zuckerman。”
  George, 37岁,投资银行家,和Jerry一样,他也视那些毒瘤王老五为大麻烦。“这些家伙们——这些外科整形师,时报编辑,还有开着诊所赚大钱的疯子们——要的都是同一窝女人。”他说,“没错儿,如果我遇到和这些毒瘤们约会过的女人,我保证连看都不会看她一眼,扭头就走。”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-07 17:25:32
作者:花开的时节 时间:2006-12-08 05:33:34
  我在看SEC AND CITY时,不看字幕简直不行啊
作者:lucindalucinda 时间:2006-12-08 09:48:47
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-09 16:02:52
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-09 16:04:10
  “如果你是Diane Sawyer,那么结婚这种大难事对你来说就不过是小菜一碟。”George说, “但是就算再机灵的女人也有阴沟翻船的时候。问题是,在纽约,人以群分,大家的交际圈都越来越小,你在和一大群超级幸运的人打交道,而他们的处世标准以及对旁人的要求也高的吓人。”
  我联系到Peter, 想听听他的看法,Peter,42岁,作家,曾和我约会过两次,他与George所执一词。“是年龄和生理上的原因。” 他说。“你永远无法明白对于一个育龄女性来说,折中原始的吸引力有多强大。至于年龄大一点的女性,比方说40岁,面对她们,这种吸引力就大大被削弱了,你不会那么迫不及待得要与她们上床。除非有另外一些辅助物的驱动”
  Roger坐在上东区一家餐厅里,舒舒服服地品一杯红酒。他年值39岁,打理自己的基金,住在Park Avenue的classic-six公寓里。他持有一种我们暂时称为“30岁中期势能大翻转”的理论。
  说回到Peter,他现今正对Alec Baldwin抱有极端的愤慨,“过高的期望才是问题所在,大龄女都是不见棺材不掉泪的那种人,她们找不到既沉静又活力四射的男人,于是她们说,‘去他妈的,我宁愿独身一人过日子。’ 不,我疑点都不觉得这些女人很可怜,她们的期望太高,结果摔的越重,真正让人同情的是这些女人们所不屑一顾的男人。女人们心里想要的是Alec Baldwin,在纽约城里,没有哪个女人不曾拒绝过最少10个重情重义的好男人,仅仅因为他们身材太肥,或是没钱没权?但是这些女人们所推崇的帅哥们感兴趣的却是20几岁的年轻女孩。”
作者:sadover 时间:2006-12-12 16:43:36
  Welcome to the Age of Un-Innocence..........
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-12 21:01:50
   Meet the Guys
   Who Bed Models~
  There was just the slightest stir as “Gregory Roque,” the conspiracy filmmaker, slipped into the Bowery Bar on a recent Friday night. The auteur of such controversial films as G.R.F.(Gerald Rudolph Ford) and The Monkees, Mr. Roque was wearing a tatty tweed jacket and keeping his head down. Surrounding him was a swarm of six young women, new models with a well-known modeling agency. All of the girls were under twenty-one(two were as young as sixteen), and most of them had never seen Mr. Roque’s films and, frankly, couldn’t have cared less.
  Functioning like two small tugboats in keeping the swarm moving and intact were the modelizers, Jack and Ben---two self-employed investors in their early thirties---men of nondescript features, save for the buckteeth of one and the stylish spiky haircut of the other.
  At first glance, it looked like a merry group. The girls were smiling. Mr. Roque sat in a banquette, flanked by his beauties. While the two young men set in the aisle chairs as if to ward off any unwelcome intruders who might try to talk to Mr. Roque or, even worse, steal one of the girls.
  Mr. Roque would lean toward one or another girl, engaging in snippets of conversation. The young men were lively. But it wasn’t quite as charming as it appeared. For one thing, if you looked closely at the girls, you could see the boredom pulling down their features like old age. They had nothing to say to Mr. Roque and even less to say to each other. But everyone at the table has a job to do, and they were doing it. So the group sat and sat, looking glamorous, and after a while, they got in Mr. Roque’s limousine and went to the Tunnel, where Mr. Roque danced dispiritedly with one of the girls and then realized he was bored up to his eyeteeth and went home alone. The girls stayed for a while and took drugs, and then Jack, who had the spiky haircut, grabbed one of the girls and said, “You stupid slut.” And she went home with him. He gave her more drugs and she gave him a blow job.
  That sort of scenario is acted out just about every night in New York, in restaurants and clubs. There, one invariably finds the beautiful young models who flock to New York like birds, and their attendants, men like Jack and Ben, who practically make a profession of wining and dining them and , with varing degrees of success, seducing them, Meet the modelizers.
  Modelizers are particular breed. They are a step beyond womanizers, who will sleep with just about anything in a skirt. Modelizers are obsessed not with women but with models. They love them for their beauty and hate them for everything else. “their stupidity, their flakiness, their lack of values, their baggage,” says Jack, Modelizers inhabit a sort of parallel universe, with its own planets(Nobu, Bowery Bar, Tabac, Flowers, Tunnel, Expo, Metropolis) and satellites(the various apartments, many near Union Square, the big modeling agencies rent for the models) and goddesses(Linda, Naomi, Christy, Elle, Bridget.)
  Welcome to their world. It’s not pretty.
  Not any man can be a modelizer. “To get models, you have to be rich, really good-looking, and/or in the arts,” says Barkley, he’s an up-and-coming artist, and he has a face like a Botticelli angel, framed by a blond pageboy haircut. He’s sitting in his junior loft in SoHo, which is paid for by his parents, as are all the rest of his expenses, his father being a coat-hanger magnate in Minneapolis, that’s good for Barkley, because being a modelizer isn’t cheap---there are drinks at clubs, dinners, cab expenses from one club to another, and drugs---mostly marijuana, but occasionally heroin and cocaine. It also takes time---lots of time. Barkley’s parents think he’s painting, but he’s too busy spending his days organizing his nights with models.
  “Frankly, I’m kind of confused about this whole model thing,” Barkley says. He’s pacing around his loft in leather jeans, shirtless. His hair is just-washed and his chest has something like three hairs on it. Models love him. They think he’s hot and nice. “you’ve got to treat them just like regular girls,” he says. Then he lights up a cigarette and says. “you’ve got to be able to roll into a place and go right up to the hottest girl there---otherwise, you are finished. It’s like being around dogs, you’ve got to show no fear.”
  The phone rings. Hannah. She’s doing a shoot in Amsterdam. Barkley puts her on the speaker. She’s lonely and she’s stoned. “I miss you , baby” she moans. Her voice is like a serpent trying to crawl out of its skin. “if you were here right now I’d have you ding-dong down my throat. Aaaaahhh. I love that so much, baby.”
  “See?” Barkley says. He talks to her, raking his fingers though his hair. He lights up a joint. “I’m smoking with you now, baby.”
  “there are two kinds of modelizers---those who are closing the deal, and those who aren’t.” says Coerte Felske, author of Shallow Man, a novel about a man who chases models.
  Leading the pack are the supermodelizers---men who are seen with the likes of Elle Macpherson, Bridget Hall, Naomi Campbell. “there are guys like this any place models congregate---Paris, Milan, and Rome,” says Mr. Felske. “these guys have status in the world of modeling. They can pick off models like clay pigeons, they burn’em and churn’em.”
  But not all the modelizers are high profile. In Manhattan, a necessary stopping-off point for young new models, just being rich can be enough. Take George and his partner, Charlie. On any given night of the week, George and Charlie are taking a group of models, sometimes up to twelve, out to dinner.
  George and Charlie could be Middle European or even Middle Eastern, but in truth they are from New Jersey. They are in the import-export business, and though neither is thirty yet, they are each worth a few million.
  “Charlie never gets laid,” says George, laughing, spinning around in his leather swivel chair behind a large mahogany desk in his office. There are oriental carpets on the floor and real art on the walls. George says he doesn’t care about getting laid. “it’s a sport,” he says.
  “For these guys, the girls are trophy extension,” confirms Mr. Felske. “maybe they feel unattractive or are blindly ambitious.”
  Last year, George got a nineteen-year-old model pregnant. He knew her for five weeks. Now they’ve got a nine-month-old son. He never sees her anymore. Here’s what she wants: $4,500 a month in child support, a $500,000 life insurance policy, a $50,00 college fund. “I think that’s a little excessive, don’t you?” George asks. When he smiles, the top of his teeth are gray.
  So how does a guy get into George’s position? “the girls travel in packs, “ explains Barkley. “it’s a very closed group. The models hang out in posses and live in groups in model apartments. They don’t feel safe unless they go out together. It’s intimidating to a guy.”
  “on the flip side, it works to your advantage, because if there are twenty models in a place, the one you want is going to be the most beautiful. You have more of a chance. If there’s just one, she’s the most beautiful, and she can work it. When you go up to one in a group of four of five, it makes that girl feel like she’s better than the other girls.”
  The trick is meeting one girl. The best way is through a mutual friend. “once a guy has access, once you get validated by one of the girls,” says Mr. Felske, “ then the guy gets beyond being an ordinary Joe.”
  Three years ago, George was at a club where he ran into a girl he knew from high school who was with a booker with an agency. He met some models. He has drugs, eventually, they all went back to the models’ apartment. He had enough to keep them going until seven in the moring. He fooled around with one of them. The next day, she agreed to see him again, but only if all the other girls could come, too. He took them all out to dinner. He kept going. “that was the beginning of the obsession,” he says.
  George knows all the model apartments now---the places where, for five hundred dollars a month, a new model gets to sleep in a bunk bed in a cramped two-or three-bedroom apartment with five other girls. But he’s got to keep up, because the girls come and go all the time, and yo have to stay close to at least one girl in the apartment.
  Still, there’s a free-flowing supply. “it’s easy,” George says. He picks up the phone and dials a number.
  “Hello, is Susan there?” he asks.
  “Susan’s in Paris.”
  “Oooooh, he says, sound disappointed. “I’m an old friend of hers(in truth, he’s known her for two months), and I just got back into town myself. Damn. Who’s this?”
  “Hey, Sabrina, I’m George.” They chat for about ten minutes. “we are thinking about going to Bowery Bar tonight. Getting a group together, Do you want to come?”
  “Ummmm. Sure, why not.” Sabrina says. You can practically hear her thumb pop out of her mouth.
  “and who else is there with you?” George asks. “do you think they might want to come too?”
  George hangs up the phone. “it’s actually better if there are more guys than girls when you go out.” He says. “if there are more girls, they get competitive with each other. They get quiet. If a girl is seeing a guy and she lets the other girls know, it can be a mistake. She thinks the girls she’s living with are her friends, but they are not. They are girls she just met who happen to be in the same situation, girls try to steal guys all the time.”
  “there are a lot of bambis out there,” says Mr. Felske.
  George says he has s system. “there’s a hierarchy of sexual availability in the model apartments.” He says. “Wilhelmina girls are the easiest. Willi tends to get girls who grew up in a mobile homes or the East End of London. lite---they have two apartments---one uptown, on 86th street, and one downtown, on 16th. They keep the nice girls in the uptown apartment, the girls in the downtown apartment are ‘friendlier.’ Girls who live with Eileen Ford are untouchable. One reason is that Eileen’s maid hangs up if you call.
  “a lot of these girls live between 28th street and Union Square. There’s Zeckendorf Tower on 15th. And a place on 22nd and Park Avenue South. The older models who work a lot tend to live on the East Side.”
楼主andrea_arriola 时间:2006-12-13 04:58:42
   Meet the Guys
   Who Bed Models~
  Gregory Roque在前不久的周五夜晚步入Bowery Bar的时候,只引起了一阵小得不能再小的骚动,作为一个电影制作人,Roque先生导演了G.R.F.(Gerald Rudolph Ford) 以及The Monkees这样备受争议的电影,此时,Roque先生身穿一件邋邋遢遢的花呢夹克,低着头,身边围着六个年轻小姐,都是某知名经济人旗下的新晋模特。她们的年龄普遍低于21岁,其中两个甚至只有16岁,她们六人之中没有几个曾看过Roque先生的电影,老实说,她们根本不在乎他拍的都是什么玩意儿。
  把这群人撮合在一起的是两个恋模特成癖的男人——Jack和Ben, 两个30出头的自雇投资人,一个长龅牙,另一个留着时髦的钉子发型,除了这两条,他们的外貌上几乎没有任何可辨认的特点。
  Roque先生朝女孩们斜过身子,同他们有一搭没一搭的交谈着。两个年轻人很是健谈。但实际情况却不如表面上看起来的那么引人入胜。首先,如果你仔细观察那些女孩子,你会发现,她们正被此刻的无聊与厌倦侵蚀。她们同Roque先生无话可谈,彼此间更是沉默寂寂。但是席间的每个人都似乎有事可做,并乐于此道,于是这群人就这么极具魅惑地干坐着,过了一阵子,他们一同坐上Roque先生的豪华轿车前往Tunnel, Roque先生无精打采地和其中一个女孩跳了一会儿舞,而后感觉到自己实在是烦的要命了,才独自一人打道回府。女孩子们多呆了一会儿,嗑了药,然后留着钉子发型的Jack把一个女孩揽在怀里,取笑道:“你这个没头脑的小贱货!” 之后,她随他回家,他给了她一些“药”,她则帮他吹箫。
  “模特狂”是一个特殊群体,他们与那些耽于女色,只要是女人就上的族群仅隔一步之遥。“模特狂”追逐的猎物不是女性,而是模特。他们迷恋她们的美貌,除相貌之外,她们身上的任何特点都是为他们所嫉恨的。“她们愚笨,浅薄,缺乏价值观,都是淫荡的妓女。”Jack说。“模特狂”们生存在一个与我们的世界并行的宇宙里,拥有自己的行星(Nobu, Bowery Bar, Tabac, Flowers, Tunnel, Expo, Metropolis),自己的卫星(各式各样Union Square附近的,知名经纪人为模特们租下的公寓),以及自己的女神(Linda, Naomi, Christy, Elle, Bridget这些模特们)
  电话响了,是Hannah, 她正在阿姆斯特丹进行拍摄。Barkley按下了电话的扬声器,她此刻正独自一人呆着,似乎嗑药之后迷迷糊糊:“我想你,宝贝。”她呻吟着,声音听起来像是一条蛇正努力从皮里钻出来。“如果我现在在你身边,我会把你的叮咚(命根子)吞到我的喉咙里去,啊啊啊啊啊啊。。。我爱死这口儿了。。宝贝儿”
  “世上有两种模特狂——一种是在完成交易,另一种则恰恰相反。”Coerte Felske,《贱男人》一书的作者,曾这么写道。
  这行的领袖人物是迷恋超级名模的那一群——那些同Elle Macpherson, Bridget Hall, 以及Naomi Campbell出双入对的男人。“在任何一个模特聚集的地方都有这样的家伙们,像在巴黎,米兰,还有罗马。”Felske先生说。“这些男人在世界模特行业里都是有地位的人物,他们可以对模特们攻无不克,挑起她们的欲望,把她们搅的要死不活。”
  George 和Charlie似是来自于东欧甚至中东。但事实上,他们来自于新泽西州,经营进出口业务,尽管两人都不满三十岁,却已经身价数百万。
  如何于女孩相知是需要讲求技巧的,而其中最简捷的方法便是通过两人共同的朋友。“一旦寻到了切入点,一旦你和模特中的一个混熟” Felske说,“那你就将前途不可限量了。”
  “嘿,Sabrina,我叫George.” 他们的交谈大约持续了十分钟。 “我们正计划今晚去Bowery酒吧,找一群伙伴一起,你愿意来么?”
  George挂掉电话,“聚会时如果男人的数量比女人多,事情就好办的多。” 他说,“如果女孩的人数比较多,那么她们就开始相互竞争。相互瞒着彼此。 如果女孩正和男人交往,而她也告诉了其他的女孩,那么这就可能铸成大错,她所认为的闺密并不是真正的朋友。她们不过是处在相同境地的同类而已,随时准备把你的男人抢到自己手里。”
  George说他熟悉这一切。“在模特公寓里,阶级制度提供了不少便利。”他说。“Wilhelmina公司的模特们最容易上手。Willi喜欢挑选那些在房车里或是伦敦东区长大的女孩。Elite——他们有两套公寓——一套在上城86大街,另一套在下城16大街。他们把有教养的那些模特放在上城公寓里,而那些比较容易上手的女孩丢在下城。与Eileen Ford同住的女孩们是你触摸不到的,原因之一是因为Eileen的女佣人总是挂掉男人打来的电话。”
  “很多女孩住在28街与Union广场中间,15街上是Zeckendorf塔,在22街和Park Avenue South之间又有一处模特聚居的地方。而年龄稍长,工作量大的模特们,则大都乐意居住在东区。”
作者:燕七 时间:2006-12-13 08:37:11
作者:混混公主 时间:2006-12-13 13:33:17
  刚来 记号
作者:2008潜水的鱼 时间:2006-12-13 17:51:41
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