Okay, sometimes, something comes along that's just too remarkably inappropriate NOT to share.
Like this IM, for example.
Backstory: Somehow or another, my favorite co-workers launched into a debate some time ago about which would be better/worse -- a guy with a limp, or a guy with a lisp. It's important work we do here, people.
So, lo and behold, into our trap of an office today walks an unsuspecting lisper.
The following ensued. Names have been omitted, because... well, obviously, because.
[2:16PM] Red: are you sure this poor guy doesn't make you want to rethink the whole lisp vs. limp thing?
[2:17PM] Blue: ok, a little- if i had to choose between a HOT guy with a limp vs. a HOT guy with a lisp- i would still go lisp- i didn't even consider the utter geek factor
[2:17PM] Blue: is it to be assumed that but limpy and lispy are ugly geeks?
[2:17PM] Red: but a HOT guy with a liMp you could just make up a really cool story -- like he used to be a gansta or something
[2:17PM] Red: hot guy with a liSp there's no good story for
[2:18PM] Red: just lazy mouth
[2:18PM] Blue: but a hot guy with a lisp would be sentive and not full of himself
[2:18PM] Blue: i like to be slightly better than the person i'm dating
[2:18PM] Blue: just enough
[2:18PM] Red: you'd have to keep your tongue in his mouth all the time
[2:18PM] Blue: fine with me
[2:18PM] Red: how does --- feel about that?!
[2:18PM] Red: the better than part, not the tongue in mouth part
[2:18PM] Blue: great question
[2:19PM] Blue: he thinks he is really unattractive
[2:19PM] Blue: which he clearly is not
[2:19PM] Red: best if he stays in the dark
[2:19PM] Blue: exactly!
[2:19PM] Red: you have more control that way
[2:19PM] Red: in fact you might want to start making subtle comments
[2:19PM] Blue: now, if he developed a lisp, i would have to leave him
[2:20PM] Red: WHAT? you're swapping sides
[2:20PM] Blue: limp - questionable
[2:20PM] Blue: fair weather fan
[2:20PM] Blue: indeed
[2:20PM] Red: if --- all of a sudden developed a limp, you'd still think he was cute. if he all of a sudden developed a lisp, i'm sorry, i don't care what you say, you'd think he was gay
[2:21PM] Blue: ha
[2:21PM] Blue: would the limp affect his performance in bed?
[2:21PM] Red: in bed, no. in other places, it's a definite possibility.
[2:22PM] Blue: hmm- what about the lisp in bed? that might be more of a problem
[2:22PM] Blue: no talking
[2:22PM] Blue: allowed
[2:22PM] Red: exactly. if you laugh too hard when you're having sex it falls out
[2:22PM] Red: i'm serious
[2:22PM] Red: it pushes
[2:22PM] Blue: and scene
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Bottoms Up
The guy across from me on the train this morning was drinking a beer.
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should point out that I'm not usually coming in to work before the sun is up, or even with that over-eager/-dressed crowd of Financial District folk. But, generally speaking, I do aim for getting to the office before lunch, and, by default, well before any acceptable happy hour.
He wasn't homeless (appearing, anyway), and he wasn't drunk (acting, anyway). There really wasn't anything particularly interesting about him at all, except for the beer.
He clearly wasn't ashamed, as said beer was right on his lap for any straggling commuter to see - not even a paper bag for discretion's sake.
Obviously, for him, a pre-ten-a.m. beer was just how he needed to start the day. Like a good stretch. Or a gulp of orange juice, with a kick and a bit of an aftertaste.
It made me sad.
You're probably waiting for the joke, since I am a sarcastic, kind of mean-spirited person.
But, sincerely, it made me feel sad.
This wasn't a celebratory beer. Last Saturday was the St. Patricks Day festival in Hoboken, and there was a LOT of
mid-morning beer being consumed. That was a little immature, but it wasn't sad. By the end of the night it was grossly immature, but still -- not sad. Annoying, for us of a certain age. Not sad.
Is life so hard right now that the only way to even get moving is to get numb?
It's Tuesday. It's March. That means the toughest day of the week is done for a few more days, and the toughest part of the year is as well.
I thought maybe it was because of the economy... a recession beer. (Because isn't the economy a perfectly convenient scapegoat for every bad attitude and behavior these days.) But then I thought, well that's just silly. Beer is really expensive around here. And this wasn't a Pabst or anything. It wasn't even a can. This was good, bottled stuff. So it's tough to justify by means of financial depression.
I don't know why I'm trying to justify it anyway. He didn't make me drink it. He didn't spill any of it on me. I just tend to be overly concerned with things that aren't any of my business.
Come to think of it, there's not even a point -- or a conclusion, really -- to this story.
I just wish I knew his story. Or, I wish I knew his story was a happy one.
Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should point out that I'm not usually coming in to work before the sun is up, or even with that over-eager/-dressed crowd of Financial District folk. But, generally speaking, I do aim for getting to the office before lunch, and, by default, well before any acceptable happy hour.
He wasn't homeless (appearing, anyway), and he wasn't drunk (acting, anyway). There really wasn't anything particularly interesting about him at all, except for the beer.
He clearly wasn't ashamed, as said beer was right on his lap for any straggling commuter to see - not even a paper bag for discretion's sake.
Obviously, for him, a pre-ten-a.m. beer was just how he needed to start the day. Like a good stretch. Or a gulp of orange juice, with a kick and a bit of an aftertaste.
It made me sad.
You're probably waiting for the joke, since I am a sarcastic, kind of mean-spirited person.
But, sincerely, it made me feel sad.
This wasn't a celebratory beer. Last Saturday was the St. Patricks Day festival in Hoboken, and there was a LOT of
mid-morning beer being consumed. That was a little immature, but it wasn't sad. By the end of the night it was grossly immature, but still -- not sad. Annoying, for us of a certain age. Not sad.
Is life so hard right now that the only way to even get moving is to get numb?
It's Tuesday. It's March. That means the toughest day of the week is done for a few more days, and the toughest part of the year is as well.
I thought maybe it was because of the economy... a recession beer. (Because isn't the economy a perfectly convenient scapegoat for every bad attitude and behavior these days.) But then I thought, well that's just silly. Beer is really expensive around here. And this wasn't a Pabst or anything. It wasn't even a can. This was good, bottled stuff. So it's tough to justify by means of financial depression.
I don't know why I'm trying to justify it anyway. He didn't make me drink it. He didn't spill any of it on me. I just tend to be overly concerned with things that aren't any of my business.
Come to think of it, there's not even a point -- or a conclusion, really -- to this story.
I just wish I knew his story. Or, I wish I knew his story was a happy one.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
He's Just Not That Into Any of Me
Okay. It's very late. For a school night, anyway. The past few nights I've fallen asleep blissfully doped up on Nyquil, but I have a tiny little addiction problem, so I'm not letting myself take any tonight, and it's not going well so far. Plus I drank it all last night, so... there you go.
Went to see He's Just Not That Into You tonight. I actually loved it. (Actually. Who am I kidding here, actually. Is there actually anyone out there who didn't think this shit was written for a girl like me?) I am completely - and I'm not kidding here, people, completely - PMSing. So it wasn't pretty. The only thing that might get me to sleep tonight is the promise of seeing Bradley Cooper again very soon, and very naked. But that's not really the point here.
I don't know what the point is here. I keep typing and deleting, typing and deleting. So maybe I'm not quite ready to delve into all this.
I keep wanting to share my funny, sad stories from this whole new world of online dating with you, but then I feel bad about it when it really comes time to share. Or maybe I feel vulnerable, because really these guys are just trying to do the same thing I am, so it makes me wonder what that says about me. Or I'm worried about killing any shred of dating karma I might have left if I sacrifice them up as entertainment. (Don't get me wrong. It would probably be worth it. This is some crazy stuff... remind me some other time to tell you about Chester. I'd even post his picture - just to make sure you got the full effect - only I'm pretty sure that's illegal. And, you know, immoral. And kind of mean. Anyway.)
And I don't know what my story is yet. Which makes it hard to tell.
I think I'm all those girls, in some way or another. The one who holds on too long. The one who tries too hard. The one who looks the other way. The one who doesn't want what she's got.
That's a lot of girls all wrapped up in this one. And he's not into any of me, hot mess that I am. So what do I do? Someday I'll let go. And stop trying. And see him for what he is. And want what's right in front of me.
Won't I?
Or, more likely, I'll reread this, realize I sound like a crazed Carrie Bradshaw without the staff of great writers or the killer shoes, switch to Robitussin because it's all that's left in the medicine cabinet, and not keep Bradley waiting any longer.
Went to see He's Just Not That Into You tonight. I actually loved it. (Actually. Who am I kidding here, actually. Is there actually anyone out there who didn't think this shit was written for a girl like me?) I am completely - and I'm not kidding here, people, completely - PMSing. So it wasn't pretty. The only thing that might get me to sleep tonight is the promise of seeing Bradley Cooper again very soon, and very naked. But that's not really the point here.
I don't know what the point is here. I keep typing and deleting, typing and deleting. So maybe I'm not quite ready to delve into all this.
I keep wanting to share my funny, sad stories from this whole new world of online dating with you, but then I feel bad about it when it really comes time to share. Or maybe I feel vulnerable, because really these guys are just trying to do the same thing I am, so it makes me wonder what that says about me. Or I'm worried about killing any shred of dating karma I might have left if I sacrifice them up as entertainment. (Don't get me wrong. It would probably be worth it. This is some crazy stuff... remind me some other time to tell you about Chester. I'd even post his picture - just to make sure you got the full effect - only I'm pretty sure that's illegal. And, you know, immoral. And kind of mean. Anyway.)
And I don't know what my story is yet. Which makes it hard to tell.
I think I'm all those girls, in some way or another. The one who holds on too long. The one who tries too hard. The one who looks the other way. The one who doesn't want what she's got.
That's a lot of girls all wrapped up in this one. And he's not into any of me, hot mess that I am. So what do I do? Someday I'll let go. And stop trying. And see him for what he is. And want what's right in front of me.
Won't I?
Or, more likely, I'll reread this, realize I sound like a crazed Carrie Bradshaw without the staff of great writers or the killer shoes, switch to Robitussin because it's all that's left in the medicine cabinet, and not keep Bradley waiting any longer.
Friday, February 6, 2009
26-50.
Because who's only got 25 random things to say about themselves, really?
Plus this is three blog entries in a row for me, and that, my friends, is record-setting.
26. I still wish for him on every eyelash.
27. I procrastinate.
28. My name is Jessica Elizabeth. I have a sister named Jessica, and a sister named Elizabeth. (And a brother named Josh, but that's not really thematic. Except that his girlfriend's name is Liz.)
29. I have never used my passport.
30. I have an unhealthy body image.
31. I've been to Wyoming twice, for unrelated weddings.
32. Most of my possessions are split between two basements - my dad's in Ohio and my ex-boyfriend's best friend's in New York.
33. I'm wondering if it'll seem egotistical that I'm writing list number two.
34. I like going to movies by myself.
35. My boss calls me snarky.
36. When I was little I told everyone my favorite movie was "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas."
37. I drink a lot of wine, but never red, even though I know it would be better for me.
38. I've seen two babies be born.
39. I hope I don't live in New Jersey forever, but I have no idea where to go next.
40. I've internet dated. Unsuccessfully, so far, anyway.
41. Sometimes I recite the words to movies along with the actors, even though I know it's annoying.
42. I wish I was more sophisticated.
43. I take a lot of notes.
44. I don't miss acting as much as I thought I would.
45. I miss my family more.
46. I worry that my life looks like this right now because of karma. I laugh at a lot of people.
47. I hate being naked.
48. My grandmothers are the two most amazing, frustrating, awe-inspiring women I know.
49. I'm terrified of getting old.
50. I'm realizing a second list was probably pretty much overkill.
Plus this is three blog entries in a row for me, and that, my friends, is record-setting.
26. I still wish for him on every eyelash.
27. I procrastinate.
28. My name is Jessica Elizabeth. I have a sister named Jessica, and a sister named Elizabeth. (And a brother named Josh, but that's not really thematic. Except that his girlfriend's name is Liz.)
29. I have never used my passport.
30. I have an unhealthy body image.
31. I've been to Wyoming twice, for unrelated weddings.
32. Most of my possessions are split between two basements - my dad's in Ohio and my ex-boyfriend's best friend's in New York.
33. I'm wondering if it'll seem egotistical that I'm writing list number two.
34. I like going to movies by myself.
35. My boss calls me snarky.
36. When I was little I told everyone my favorite movie was "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas."
37. I drink a lot of wine, but never red, even though I know it would be better for me.
38. I've seen two babies be born.
39. I hope I don't live in New Jersey forever, but I have no idea where to go next.
40. I've internet dated. Unsuccessfully, so far, anyway.
41. Sometimes I recite the words to movies along with the actors, even though I know it's annoying.
42. I wish I was more sophisticated.
43. I take a lot of notes.
44. I don't miss acting as much as I thought I would.
45. I miss my family more.
46. I worry that my life looks like this right now because of karma. I laugh at a lot of people.
47. I hate being naked.
48. My grandmothers are the two most amazing, frustrating, awe-inspiring women I know.
49. I'm terrified of getting old.
50. I'm realizing a second list was probably pretty much overkill.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
I Am the Most Popular Girl On This Blog
So yesterday's post invoked a flurry of activity and outrage from those fan(s) of mine who either aren't cool enough to be on Facebook, or just aren't cool enough to be my friend on Facebook.
After much* demand, here is MY previously posted list of 25 Random Things.
*much is a relative term.
25. I have a cat named Bunker, who currently lives with his grandparents and kitty cousin.
24. I say 'literally' way more often than is actually appropriate. Or true.
23. I don't take criticism very well, because I'm too sensitive and I take everything really personally.
22. I love to read. Anything. Almost.
21. After eight years in New York City, I love it. But I'm worn out. It will always be a part of me, but I don't think it will ever be home.
20. I have no willpower.
19. I rode a motorcycle once at well over 100 miles an hour, without a helmet. It still makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.
18. If I have daughters I already know what I will name them.
17. I sometimes worry that I haven't made very good use of my life so far.
16. I'm hardly ever attracted to people -- very picky, thanks to some amazing, wonderful exes -- but when I fall in love it's hard and fast.
15. My favorite place in the world (aside from home) is a tiny island off the coast of the Outer Banks.
14. I'm technically an only child, but I have 3 younger siblings. They are all very different. I adore them. I miss them more and more as they become these amazing young adults with families of their own.
13. I wonder if I'll ever make (another) movie, write a book, or marry well (again).
12. I wonder what I'll have for dinner.
11. I've been skydiving.
10. I am a Buckeye, a Yankee, and a wannabe southern belle.
9. I am an unapologetic Parrot Head.
8. I once spent New Years Eve in Times Square… handing out Listerine Pocket Packs.
7. I never cook.
6. I think I'm getting smarter, finally. Or at least more… aware.
5. I try really hard to make people laugh. Sometimes I try too hard and suck, but sometimes I can do it.
4. I am blessed with the most amazing, influential, capable, drop-dead gorgeous, motivating, supportive, hysterically funny, no-bullshit, inspiring group of best girlfriends you could even imagine. Literally.
3. I should be working right now.
2. This has taken me a really ridiculously long time.
1. I will always be daddy's girl.
After much* demand, here is MY previously posted list of 25 Random Things.
*much is a relative term.
25. I have a cat named Bunker, who currently lives with his grandparents and kitty cousin.
24. I say 'literally' way more often than is actually appropriate. Or true.
23. I don't take criticism very well, because I'm too sensitive and I take everything really personally.
22. I love to read. Anything. Almost.
21. After eight years in New York City, I love it. But I'm worn out. It will always be a part of me, but I don't think it will ever be home.
20. I have no willpower.
19. I rode a motorcycle once at well over 100 miles an hour, without a helmet. It still makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.
18. If I have daughters I already know what I will name them.
17. I sometimes worry that I haven't made very good use of my life so far.
16. I'm hardly ever attracted to people -- very picky, thanks to some amazing, wonderful exes -- but when I fall in love it's hard and fast.
15. My favorite place in the world (aside from home) is a tiny island off the coast of the Outer Banks.
14. I'm technically an only child, but I have 3 younger siblings. They are all very different. I adore them. I miss them more and more as they become these amazing young adults with families of their own.
13. I wonder if I'll ever make (another) movie, write a book, or marry well (again).
12. I wonder what I'll have for dinner.
11. I've been skydiving.
10. I am a Buckeye, a Yankee, and a wannabe southern belle.
9. I am an unapologetic Parrot Head.
8. I once spent New Years Eve in Times Square… handing out Listerine Pocket Packs.
7. I never cook.
6. I think I'm getting smarter, finally. Or at least more… aware.
5. I try really hard to make people laugh. Sometimes I try too hard and suck, but sometimes I can do it.
4. I am blessed with the most amazing, influential, capable, drop-dead gorgeous, motivating, supportive, hysterically funny, no-bullshit, inspiring group of best girlfriends you could even imagine. Literally.
3. I should be working right now.
2. This has taken me a really ridiculously long time.
1. I will always be daddy's girl.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
25 Random Things About Other People
So, as you Facebook friendly folks know, there is a craze just sweeping the site: a tagged note of "25 Random Things" that has proven, for me at least, to be a completely wonderful, entertaining insight into the friends I know really well, and the ones I don't. (Even the Times is getting in on the story.)
I talk a lot about my amazing friends, and how they've sustained me over the years. See for yourself -- 25 poignant little hysterically heartbreaking insights into the people in my life...
12. I love interesting people. Hence, my BFF Libby. She is insane about cleaning. She once came to visit and reorganized my entire closet. I was so thankful to have such a friend! She also informed me that I had 16 pairs of jeans.
10. My husband is laughing at me right now... shouting out ideas for this stupid list.
21. When I was in high school, my family planted a tree in a park in remembrance of my grandfather. In 2002, my now husband took me to a park named after his grandmother. It was the same park.
3. I am STILL hopelessly terrified of the band KISS, the Incredible Hulk and making my parents mad.
3. Being pregnant has made me appreciate my mother more.
17. i don't like taking out the garbage or filling the ice cube tray so i don't do either.
21. I'm really good at getting the job. I'm really bad at keeping it.
20. I stay in touch with all my ex girlfriends... except for one. I adore all of them... except for one.
23. My secret dream in life is to be a writer. My secret fear is that no one would be interested in what I would write.
10. I'm a card-carrying Feminist, but I've always wanted a fairy-tale wedding.
3. I rarely write a FB status because I would rather just read Jessica Stone's.
24. My husband is my best friend and favorite person in the world, but I still couldn't tell you his favorite snack or what he would order at a restaurant.
2. I believe in love at first sight.
19. I like living in Los Angeles, but I'm madly in love with New York City.
6. Twenty FIVE random things? I'm getting a little tired of working on this.
17. i killed my hamster snowball when i was 7. it was an accident. i wanted a dog. my parents wouldn't get me one. so i took snowball for a walk. i tied the rope around his neck a little too tight, and well-- that was it for snowball. terrible. i am still scarred.
10. not an hour goes by that i don't think of my mom.
21. I once attended a “Felicity” series finale viewing party. That’s still the gayest thing I’ve ever done.
24) I spend $2 a week on Lotto.
6) I wish my family lived closer to me, but not that I lived closer to my family. If that makes sense.
11. My husband says that I have a secret boyfriend. He lives in my freezer and he calls him GG. (grey goose) but he's no good to me without olives.
10. I am COMPLETELY different than I was in high school. Thank God.
11) I ran my parents around the world three times over in my childhood, but I think it was good for them.
17. I wonder nearly every day if living where I do is worth all the things I'm sacrificing to be here.
10. I'm strong enough to be alone, I'm just not very good at it.
I talk a lot about my amazing friends, and how they've sustained me over the years. See for yourself -- 25 poignant little hysterically heartbreaking insights into the people in my life...
12. I love interesting people. Hence, my BFF Libby. She is insane about cleaning. She once came to visit and reorganized my entire closet. I was so thankful to have such a friend! She also informed me that I had 16 pairs of jeans.
10. My husband is laughing at me right now... shouting out ideas for this stupid list.
21. When I was in high school, my family planted a tree in a park in remembrance of my grandfather. In 2002, my now husband took me to a park named after his grandmother. It was the same park.
3. I am STILL hopelessly terrified of the band KISS, the Incredible Hulk and making my parents mad.
3. Being pregnant has made me appreciate my mother more.
17. i don't like taking out the garbage or filling the ice cube tray so i don't do either.
21. I'm really good at getting the job. I'm really bad at keeping it.
20. I stay in touch with all my ex girlfriends... except for one. I adore all of them... except for one.
23. My secret dream in life is to be a writer. My secret fear is that no one would be interested in what I would write.
10. I'm a card-carrying Feminist, but I've always wanted a fairy-tale wedding.
3. I rarely write a FB status because I would rather just read Jessica Stone's.
24. My husband is my best friend and favorite person in the world, but I still couldn't tell you his favorite snack or what he would order at a restaurant.
2. I believe in love at first sight.
19. I like living in Los Angeles, but I'm madly in love with New York City.
6. Twenty FIVE random things? I'm getting a little tired of working on this.
17. i killed my hamster snowball when i was 7. it was an accident. i wanted a dog. my parents wouldn't get me one. so i took snowball for a walk. i tied the rope around his neck a little too tight, and well-- that was it for snowball. terrible. i am still scarred.
10. not an hour goes by that i don't think of my mom.
21. I once attended a “Felicity” series finale viewing party. That’s still the gayest thing I’ve ever done.
24) I spend $2 a week on Lotto.
6) I wish my family lived closer to me, but not that I lived closer to my family. If that makes sense.
11. My husband says that I have a secret boyfriend. He lives in my freezer and he calls him GG. (grey goose) but he's no good to me without olives.
10. I am COMPLETELY different than I was in high school. Thank God.
11) I ran my parents around the world three times over in my childhood, but I think it was good for them.
17. I wonder nearly every day if living where I do is worth all the things I'm sacrificing to be here.
10. I'm strong enough to be alone, I'm just not very good at it.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Big Day, Tiny Heart
Hey y'all. I have no idea why I decided to go the Southern route there - it's just in my blood and bones and sometimes when I'm tired it comes out. So there ya go.
It's been a hell of a day.
I was about to head off to bed, but figured I would be disappointed with myself if I didn't in some way document this day.
We have a new president. But we have so much more than that - we have a whole new outlook. As a lot of you know, I was a fish headed upstream in that I didn't hate George Bush. Pitied, perhaps, in days of late, but I still see a good man there. In the last few months and years I've lost sight, the way I think a lot of America did, in how he got to the top position in the world in the first place, but he got there, nonetheless, same as the 42 men before him. But that's not really what today was about.
You don't hear me say it often, but... every once in awhile I slip, and every once in awhile I fall in love, head over heels, with New York City.
Today, I love New York. I got to experience this day in a way that no one, outside of our capital, got to. I got to stand in a crowded bar in Manhattan, surrounded by strangers, and watch the world change. For the better, no less. I got to feel the common thread that is the tying bind of a city like this. It's a loving city. Oh, I know, you're skeptical. But it is. It's an embracing, inviting, encouraging city. It welcomes change, and uncertainty, and enthusiasm.
So many moments in history have been captured by the iconic image of Americans crowded around a television screen. In bars and restaurants, in homes, around electronics stores on the streets. And so often, we're watching images, crying collectively, because something has happened. It's rarely something good. JFK. Elvis. Reagan. The Challenger. And, it's hard to even type, September 11th, 2001. None of those were good tears. Those are images that people froze to, clung to one another through, and survived to tell the next generation where they were at that moment.
I will tell my kids about watching the Challenger explode in my fourth grade classroom.
And I will tell my kids about the day I truly became a New Yorker. I didn't watch that day on television.
But today... today was different.
It almost looked the same. Crowds huddled in the freezing cold around sets and computers and even PDAs. (That might be a little different than years past...) There were tears. People clung to each other.
And they cheered.
Oh, wow, how they cheered and cried and let their faces fill with hope.
We chattered about an amazing performance, an amazing speech, an amazing moment in fashion. (Way to go, Wu.)
We watched a man do something unprecedented, who didn't forget to say, before the world, before he said anything else, "How gorgeous is my wife?" Done. Won. Love always wins.
It was nothing short of amazing. It was another monumental moment in New York City. And I fell in love, all over again.
It's been a tough week for love. It's been a tough few days of reminding myself that love can win. I had my own plans for dancing to Etta, my own version of "At Last," and I had to let it go. Reluctantly. Unwillingly. Ungracefully and humiliatingly and pridelessly. So, clearly, I don't feel much like a winner in love this week. I feel like a broken hearted, very lonely, very sad girl. I lost this week. Losing is awful, when the stakes are this high. A lot of tears in the past couple of days, and not happy "yes we can" tears. But what can you do.
So today was a good reminder that the world is bigger than I am. There are more important things than my little heart. My little tiny broken heart.
Like a president who just told the band to kick it.
More important stuff, indeed.
It's been a hell of a day.
I was about to head off to bed, but figured I would be disappointed with myself if I didn't in some way document this day.
We have a new president. But we have so much more than that - we have a whole new outlook. As a lot of you know, I was a fish headed upstream in that I didn't hate George Bush. Pitied, perhaps, in days of late, but I still see a good man there. In the last few months and years I've lost sight, the way I think a lot of America did, in how he got to the top position in the world in the first place, but he got there, nonetheless, same as the 42 men before him. But that's not really what today was about.
You don't hear me say it often, but... every once in awhile I slip, and every once in awhile I fall in love, head over heels, with New York City.
Today, I love New York. I got to experience this day in a way that no one, outside of our capital, got to. I got to stand in a crowded bar in Manhattan, surrounded by strangers, and watch the world change. For the better, no less. I got to feel the common thread that is the tying bind of a city like this. It's a loving city. Oh, I know, you're skeptical. But it is. It's an embracing, inviting, encouraging city. It welcomes change, and uncertainty, and enthusiasm.
So many moments in history have been captured by the iconic image of Americans crowded around a television screen. In bars and restaurants, in homes, around electronics stores on the streets. And so often, we're watching images, crying collectively, because something has happened. It's rarely something good. JFK. Elvis. Reagan. The Challenger. And, it's hard to even type, September 11th, 2001. None of those were good tears. Those are images that people froze to, clung to one another through, and survived to tell the next generation where they were at that moment.
I will tell my kids about watching the Challenger explode in my fourth grade classroom.
And I will tell my kids about the day I truly became a New Yorker. I didn't watch that day on television.
But today... today was different.
It almost looked the same. Crowds huddled in the freezing cold around sets and computers and even PDAs. (That might be a little different than years past...) There were tears. People clung to each other.
And they cheered.
Oh, wow, how they cheered and cried and let their faces fill with hope.
We chattered about an amazing performance, an amazing speech, an amazing moment in fashion. (Way to go, Wu.)
We watched a man do something unprecedented, who didn't forget to say, before the world, before he said anything else, "How gorgeous is my wife?" Done. Won. Love always wins.
It was nothing short of amazing. It was another monumental moment in New York City. And I fell in love, all over again.
It's been a tough week for love. It's been a tough few days of reminding myself that love can win. I had my own plans for dancing to Etta, my own version of "At Last," and I had to let it go. Reluctantly. Unwillingly. Ungracefully and humiliatingly and pridelessly. So, clearly, I don't feel much like a winner in love this week. I feel like a broken hearted, very lonely, very sad girl. I lost this week. Losing is awful, when the stakes are this high. A lot of tears in the past couple of days, and not happy "yes we can" tears. But what can you do.
So today was a good reminder that the world is bigger than I am. There are more important things than my little heart. My little tiny broken heart.
Like a president who just told the band to kick it.
More important stuff, indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
