Bigs & Littles

My mom told me today she bets I would've eaten up greek life had I gone to a school that had it.  "Come on," she said, "you would have been running for vice president of your sorority, and been obsessed with the whole scene."

BC didn't have greek life, and actually I have never even been to a frat party or in to a frat or sorority house, but I think she's probably right that I would have gotten swept up into the culture.  If only because I'm a sucker for having sisterfriends.

We have a cousin who's just got one brother in Texas, and she just got into A&M and into a sorority down there, and her parents are uber proud cause it must be one of the good ones, but I'm excited for her cause now she'll get to experience having big and little sisters.

And truly there is nothing better in the world. 

I dropped both my bambina sorella and my sorellina off at PC and BC respectively in the past week, and I love love love getting to live vicariously through the endless adventures they're having and I love knowing that they'll be like sisters to some of the friends they make on their campuses regardless of the fact that there's not greek life on either of them.  Friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and if you're lucky you just add on cause you're of the more the merrier mentality.

Sister Sense

The Artist's Way encourages you to look for synchronicity in your life... signs, omens, coincidences, examples of fate, providence, highly attuned intuition and answered prayers...

I have always sort of done that anyway, but I'm highly sensitive to the appearance of these things in my life now so since I woke up missing my sisters Wednesday morning I was not the least bit surprised when my sorellina called to break the news of my bambina sorella's breakup from her prince of a high school sweetheart that night...  We've all known it was coming, it was a caveat from the beginning of their relationship that they wouldn't stay together when their freshman year of college came around, but it was sad none the less.

So I don't want to harp on that, I'd rather share a silly anecdote from last weekend. Perhaps the little one will stumble upon this post and at least have a chuckle at her eldest sister's nutty-ness.

I got pulled over on the interstate Saturday night on my way back to Westchester from a BBQ, and when the cop leaned into the window to ask for my license and registration he said "it reaks of booze in this car" (but I have a feeling what he actually smelled was the gasoline I had actually spilled on myself at the Mobil station I stopped by to fill up at before getting on the road because I over paid in cash ahead of pumping not realizing the clicking would mean the tank was full) and anyway, I was like "I went to a bbq where there was drinking hours ago, at like 2... but if I was speeding it's because I was singing along to this soundtrack of Batboy the musical" (and then I turned the volume up so he could hear).  To which he replied, "you were singing?" and I just nodded.  And he said, "well do you always drive with no headlights on on the high way?" and I said, "oh gosh, nope, oh my gosh, sorry, this is the car of the family I'm house sitting for, I didn't realize the lights didn't go on automatically!"

Found the lever, twisted the lights to On and drove off after he told me to "just be safe."

It's a semi-charmed kind of life. 

Book Notes

I'm a little more than a quarter of the way through my fourth draft of The Book largely thanks to the effects of the 11 weeks I've done so far of The Artist's Way.

And I have in the past week come upon two gems...

The first is the recently departed and great David Rakoff's encouraging if pessimistic piece on how writing gets harder



The second are Colson Whitehead's Rules For Writing.

The most clutch of which, I think, is "Rule No. 7: Writer’s block is a tool — use it."

And now that I'm the wiser I will.  Perhaps in future months but for the time being to explain to friends & family members why, after 5.5 years working on "The Book" it's still not finished.

Fortunately I'm feeling unblocked and ready to wrap this draft up in time for my best friend's wedding this October.  I just like to know I have tools.  And I'm in good company when it feels hard.  Nobody said it was easy.

The Peanut Gallery

When I want a quick news fix in the middle of my work day as an Agent I go to msn.com.  I should probably make my default the NY Times, and I've tried to in the past, but something about the interface of msn.com, my familiarity with it, the way it flashes 7 slides with 3 stories each when you open to it makes it my go-to.

Usually it links to NBC news stories or MSNBC news stories or msn business, relationship, or fitness articles that I find interesting enough and pretty well written.

But in the past two weeks, during the Olympics hub-bub it habitually linked to Fox News reports recapping stories coming out across the pond.  And almost everyone I read was repulsively written, with a snarky, conservative stand point leaking between every line.  I finished every article thinking to myself, "who are the assholes they have writing these pieces??"

24 hours after Gabby Douglass won the all around gold, she googled herself and amidst a million articles calling her America's Sweetheart, a handful of comments about her hair not being done well for the competition caught her eye.  The McKayla Maroney is not impressed meme went viral over night, and my bff posted a beautifully written piece to his fb wall which he usually gets no deeper or personal on than in reference to his favorite childhood film or flavored mocha latte and it received over 1300 likes and some few hundred comments...

From the peanut gallery.

Most were positive, but a handful were rude, unintelligent, and most annoyingly, unnecessarily negative.

To which I ask, why???  Why the negativity?  What does it add to the world to make a peanut gallery contribution that's negative?  McKayla Maroney had that smirk on her face in one moment, but she had tears in her eyes for far more as she stood on the gold medal platform smack dab in the middle of the Fab Five, her teammates & friends.  Gabby Douglass defied gravity over and over again with a breathtaking exuberance smiling for miles. 

I mention the Fox news articles I kept coming upon on line last week, because, for the first time ever I was actually tempted to post a comment criticizing what I was reading - but I didn't because the thought would occur to me: what's there to gain? 

Remember that lesson from Bambi?  If you don't have something nice to say don't say it at all.

It's right on.

Once in a blue moon

My aunt posted this little nugget of an astrological fun fact to FB today.  I don't have any crystals to put out for recharging, but I am pretty excited to see what this blue moon has in store for me.

Tonight, my sorellina and I saw Anything Goes at the theatre where we were in The Wedding Singer two Summers ago.  We hugged & congratulated my "show crush" from that Wedding Singer Summer, a stellar tap dancer as it turns out and such a solid guy, who's been happily married now for a year I think and I walked away with two main conclusions from the viewing.

1st.  I don't know if anyone it means a hill of beans to will ever read this assessment/recommendation, but Dori Bryan-Ployer is, I swear, the best choreographer in Boston.  She shapes up a cast into a crisp troupe of dancers with a method I haven't seen since I was first directed and choreographed by one of the greats originally from CA twelve or thirteen years ago.  Feck, I'm old.  (I also cantered at an Irish Wedding this afternoon - amazing - more on that another time, but hence my feeling like saying "feck").  Anyway - Dori - she's so freaking good.  The Lyric or Speakeasy or the Huntington had better scoop her up sooner than later.  And when they do, I'll start coming to Boston to see shows at all three again.

2nd.  Here's the once in a blue moon tie in... The premise of Anything Goes is a guy & girl meet one night at a swinging 1920s or 30s party and fall madly in love driving around Central Park in the back of a taxi cab for 9 hours, but the girl's betrothed to a Brit, and the two lovers don't run into each other again until they happen to both be on the deck of a London bound Ocean Liner 3 months later...  many musical theatre antics unfold and ::SPOILER ALERT:: the guy gets the girl back (with the help of some offensively written scenework and the singin' and dancin' of his public enemy and nightclub crooner friends... it's one of the best).  And it's a riot to think that back when life spans weren't spilling into the 80 and 90 years on the reg, sometimes all it took was ONE NIGHT - one magic moment at a party to seal the deal.  Stick a fork in these two, they were done for, head over heals and ready to take the plunge...

There was no song and dance of an on again off again courtship.  No trial period spent testing out living together in a 2 bedroom apartment before the ring was bought.  It was bing bang boom.  A little moonlight, a little spin around the park, and (likely) a couple kisses combined with what one imagines could at most only have been a little heavy petting, and it was cause for the breaking of an engagement.

Once in a blue moon, I bet love still works like this: "at first sight," in reaction to a gut feeling, and because for all intents and purposes after all, anything goes.

But I haven't seen it do so to date in real life, so for the time being, even though I've been in it twice and seen two of my siblings perform it in middle school and high school productions, even though I've got pretty much every spoken line and no joke every song lyric memorized, I'll keep seeing this show time and time again, whenever I've got the opportunity to.  Because it's not just delovely, it's heavenly.

Cue self indulgent embedding:





Okay enough of that. Take me back to Manhattan ;)

How I used A**hole as a pickup line

This weekend was one of the best weekends of my life. 

We brought my Dr Roomie to the Cape for the weekend and threw her bachelorette party of epic proportions... More on that later perhaps,  but first here's the text message conversation I had with a boy we met while out at the British Beer Company in Falmouth.

And by "a boy we met" I mean, a boy that had some sort of altercation with one of my other single roommates earlier in the night, looked like an a**hole and then answered when I called out to him from across the bar, "hey A**hole."  For whatever reason, even though the roomie and the gaggle of girls we were with AND I all agreed he was clearly of the a**hole persuasion, I also felt that he'd be fun to go makeout with on the cute little capehouse lined street around the corner from the bar.

1:02am Bridesmaid Naugs: Oh you are funny.  Are u on the beach?

1:04am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Haha nah... Wat a tease u are

1:15am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Wat u doin now?

1:17am Bridesmaid Naugs: Ha, heading back to great Harbor.  You coming, Colby? 

****his name was Colby.  a douche bag name if ever there's been one

1:18am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Absolutely not...it would be fun but too much energy

1:20am Bridesmaid Naugs: Total tease btw, I'll own it.  Haha 'absolutely not.'  Yup, funny / so cute

1:22am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Not gonna lie that was hilarious when those kids came by and w r on a rando lawn haha

1:23am Bridesmaid Naugs: Hahaha yesss yup I mean sometimes you just gotta make out on that lawn

1:30am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Wish u coulda came back here with me

1:40am Bridesmaid Naugs: Cab here and we can hook up in the outdoor shower - ha

1:41am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): There is an outdoor shower...haha...come on u treat me like I'm 7...u suck.  i was gonna walk u back here haha but u weren't down

1:42am Bridesmaid Naugs: Awwww sad.  Wait how old are you again?  Seriously I am sorry for asking and if I weren't bacheloretting I might have walked back w you

1:43am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Im 22...and haha it's ok idc... i'm sure u will have a good night anyways.. I just thought it would have been a great story

***idc is early twentysomething for I don't care

1:45am Bridesmaid Naugs: Aww yes, would've been an excellent story... another time :)

1:46am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Prob not...im never down here but whatever...I had fun.  u have the best personality.  i loved it

1:47am Bridesmaid Naugs: -ha- prob not - you're right.  Night boy-o

1:48am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): G'nite have fun...still upset lol

1:50am Bridesmaid Naugs: Get over it / into a cab.  Night cutie

1:52am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Haha u suck...gnite

1:53am Bridesmaid Naugs:  Hahaha

1:54am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Not funny

1:55am Bridesmaid Naugs: Yeah I am (funny).  Call my friend Pziok ankfok

***this is when i was more or less falling asleep while trying to text (we girls had played a LOT of flip cup and had three flavors of jello shots earlier on in the evening)

  

2:00am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): Wait that made no sense.  

2:01am Cute Cape Cod Boy (aka A**hole): U gotta hook me up with ur sister.

***my sorellina's 20, I had told him about her earlier, 'cause, well, they'd actually be kinda cute together.

Scribble scribble / goody goody

I'm reading this love letter to the LUWS (lower upper west side, essentially the deservingly glorified basement of the UUWS) written a while ago by Nora Ephron on Lena Dunham's recommendation.  It's likely anyone who's caught more than a handful of episodes of GIRLS now considers themselves on first name basis with Lena or at least in kindred company with her character Hannah, and I'm no different...  But I skimmed Lena's piece on Nora earlier this morning and thought I'd read the phrase Goody Goody where actually it said "Scribble Scribble" the title of a collection of articles Nora Ephron had written on the media in the 70s.

And anyway... that got me thinking about my first love and subsequent heartbreak... the night when Nick B. came to tell me in Day Middle School's atrium that Mike didn't want to "go with me" anymore... the tears my friends and I shed for the remaining two hours of the dance we were at as we mourned the door to our childhoods' closing and the fact that none of us had yet been asked to slowdance with any of the boys we liked...the pink fitted sweatpants and DARE t-shirt I moped around in the next two days and the more socially acceptable green leggings and Limited Too sweatshirt I changed into before going to face my new reality at school Monday morning on my mother's insistence...

It would appear that I had been dumped due to the fact that my elementary school love had peaked the fancy of kissing-Gen, who would become one of my best friends and fellow nookgirls as the years went on, and that - as he told so and so who told so and so who told so and so - he'd had Nick B. break up with me at that dance because of what a "goody goody" I was.

GOODY GOODY?!

It still somehow cuts to my core.  Ha.

Luckily though, the pain recedes, and I have the advice Nora Ephron gave Lena Dunham: "You can’t meet someone until you’ve become what you’re becoming."

How on earth could I have known what I was becoming at 10 if I still don't at 27?