Richie Rich

Being rich is exhausting.

I guess I wouldn't really know, because by most American standards I wouldn't be considered rich.  I'm actually in negative money since Rex and I still owe a bunch on his student loans.  I was faking it this weekend, though, and it really wore me out.

My grandma's sister-in-law (so my great-aunt-in-law?) was donating a new art piece to Siena Heights University this weekend.  She has approximately 1 bajillion dollars, so she's always doing things like donating expensive art pieces.  I think this one cost five million dollars.  Not joking.  This lady has more money than I could ever imagine.  I kind of want to be like, "Hey, could you kick me a few thou to get rid of these pesky student loans?  I know you wouldn't miss it, and it would make an awfully big difference to me..."  But apparently that's really rude.  Five million dollars is much better spent on abstract art.  Probably.

Anyway, this past Saturday was the installation of the new art piece.  Because my family and I are related to Mary, the lady who donated it, we all got invited to view the dedication.  I don't care too much about abstract art, but I care a LOT about my British grandmother, and she was going to be there so I decided I was definitely going to go.  I hardly ever get to see my Nana.  Have you ever seen The Princess Diaries?  My Nana IS the grandma in that movie.  She's awesome and also kind of intimidating...but mostly awesome.  My parents, Cara, Rex, and I piled into the car and headed across the state to hang out with the rich folks and dedicate the art piece.

I knew things were going to be different than normal when we first arrived at the university.  The parking attendant asked for our name, and when she looked at the list on her clipboard she said, "Oh!  Welcome!  Please drive right up front - we have spaces reserved for you."  We got to drive right up to the VIP parking section, and when we got out of the car a lady in a golf cart drove up and offered to give us a ride to the building.  I looked up and saw the building - it was maybe a hundred yards away.  I certainly did not need a RIDE to the building, but I accepted anyway because, well, why not?  Rex leaned over and said, "Being rich makes people fat."  

Once inside the building, we had lunch in the school cafeteria to get an idea of what "real life" at the college is really like.  Except in real college, you don't sit in your own private back room and have waiters come and wait on you.  At this college we did.  When the waitress lady came and nervously asked if she could take my plates, I wanted to whisper, "Don't worry - I'm not actually a millionaire.  I'm normal just like you.  I can take my own plates to the conveyor belt.  I actually used to work washing dishes..."  But I didn't do that because I felt like I had to pretend I was rich so I would fit in with everyone else there.  The artist who made the sculpture sat at our table, so that was a whole other level of intimidating.  I politely asked about some of his work, and he said that just a few weeks ago he finished another sculpture that was installed right outside of the Guggenheim.  I about choked on my food.  Like, THE Guggenheim?!  Yep.  This guy's legit.  He told us about his main studio (which is in Spain) and offered to let Cara stay with him at his estate in Paris to meet his son (yes please).  He has to be in Shanghai next week, but he always loves visiting the United States.  He grew up in Manhattan, you know.  (No, I did not know).  He was wearing a purple scarf and looked very artsy.  I would show you a picture, but I can't because whenever someone took a picture of him he asked them not put it online.  I hope one day I'm so cool that people want to take pictures of me and I have to ask them not to put them online.

Rex was pretty quiet throughout the lunch.  People were discussing fine art and how beautiful Paris is in the fall and how international travel is becoming so drab these days, dah-ling.  I looked over at Rex, and I almost laughed out loud at how bored/uncomfortable he looked.  He was wearing a tie, for goodness sake.  I think the last time he wore a tie was at our wedding.  I leaned over and whispered to him, "Remember the scene in Titanic where Jack comes up from the third class cabin and has to eat dinner in the first class cabin, and he has no freaking clue what he's doing?"  Rex nodded, clearly not seeing where I was going with this.  "You're Jack," I concluded.  Rex laughed out loud, which made the artist and other assorted sophisticated people look at us, and I had to pretend that my salad was cracking me up.  Oops.

We had a very fancy lunch, then we adjourned and went outside for the dedication.  Rich people don't "leave" a place.  They "adjourn."  We all sat near the sculpture and listened to people talk about how it's so genius and how it "speaks" to them and how we should all "come into its presence" to "experience it." It kind of felt like a church service to worship art, to tell you the truth.  Rex leaned over and whispered "it kind of looks like silver Jenga..."  Yes, leave it to my husband to take this deeply metaphorical piece and compare it to a game that costs $9.99 plus tax.  See why he's totally Jack from Titanic?  But Jack's sexy, so whatever.

After the dedication, we headed inside for a reception.  They had all sorts of fancy desserts, many of which I took pictures of because they looked like art.  I think I was actually more impressed by the desserts than I was of the sculpture.  It's a lot easier for me to properly experience art when I can eat it.  See that triangle thing on my plate?  There was a guy with a blow-torch torching the mini-marshmallow on top of it!  It was basically a rich people s'more.  It tasted delicious.  Also, that cup of mousse is made out of chocolate.  So you eat the mousse AND the cup.  Yum...

Then there were the milk shots.  These were the tiniest glasses ever (please see the quarter I placed next to it as a reference), and they had cute little cookies placed on top.  I'm not sure if I was supposed to eat the cookie first or drink the milk, so I hid in a corner to eat it in case I did it wrong.

They put chocolate signs in the chocolate mousse in case we forgot where we were.  Earlier that day the artist had asked us to remind him which country he was in, (!!!) so apparently the struggle is real.

Here's the sculpture - the cause for the hullabaloo.  It's pretty, to be sure...but it also does sort of look like Jenga.

Once the reception was over, we adjourned again - this time back to our rooms to "freshen  up" before dinner.  I'd eaten three of those chocolate cups and two cookie shots, so I wasn't really that hungry.  It seems like we'd been eating all day.  Dinner was at the president's house, though, so it's not like you really turn down the president of the university.  We had a fantastic meal of gourmet foods that probably cost more than my mortgage payment, but it was delicious.  I forgot to take pictures of that food, but rest assured that it was cool.  I once again had to remember the proper placement of my utensils and be sure to butter my roll correctly.  It's sort of like having tea with the Queen of England, but worse because the queen would probably just let it slide if I did something wrong.  She'd chalk it up to my "quirky American charm."  In these types of situations, I know I'm going to hear about it if I do something wrong.  It makes me so nervous that I almost can't enjoy the food.

But only almost.  The food was REALLY good.

After dinner, we all got cool yellow umbrellas as party favors (there was a "Spring into Spring" theme for the dinner decorations) and headed home.  Once I got back to my hotel, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.  I kicked off my shoes and spent some time with family without panicking about offending the billionaires.

Lesson of the weekend: with great wealth comes a lot of rules and also multiple golf cart rides.  I think I'll slink back into my own tax bracket where I can eat pizza without a fork and no one cares about how I butter my roll.  I like it here.