Aleigh used to write these great blog posts on things her friends said via email (I think that's what it was called). I'm stealing the idea, except with texts. I didn't even ask if I could. The two of us and another friend, who I will call "Erin" (because that's her name), have had a years-long group text exchange. I can't remember when it started...sometime in the year after I moved to Austin...but I know it will probably last forever. I hope it will. They make me laugh like no-one else can.
Two notes: 1) none of these texts are work-related and 2) many of the phrases are mine, but I'm not saying which ones; nor am I identifying the others.
You know you're getting older when you spend more money on makeup and food than booze.
Age defy all the things!
Dear god asparagus. Why? WHY? You know that scene in The Exorcist where the priest's mom goes "why Dimi why you do dis to meee?" That's what I feel like saying to asparagus after I pee.
Not that I have ever noticed. Maybe I just can't smell it!
My mother is taking pictures of her TV screen and texting them to me.
I need a million dollars, stat.
Quick get Satan and make a pact.
I used to have him in my contacts but the last time I texted him he was all like "new phone who dis."
Satan is an asshole. I texted that I needed to remove four years from my life that I wasted on shitheads and all I got was LOL GRRRRRL.
You definitely need a lady's maid.
I rang a fucking bell for some cottage cheese and blueberries like an hour ago and bitch still hasn't shown up. I HAVE TO WALK TO MY KITCHEN.
Please save me.
I think if I cried more often I'd be a better person.
Okya I’m drrunka.
Feel free to smack me the very next time you see me if I have become annoying.
Me when it was time to leave work for the holidays:
I love these group text exchanges. I live for them. There's an awful lot of talk about bodily functions, things that shall never be repeated, even if attributed anonymously. I have announced that I was renaming Thanksgiving "Bakesgiving." Once there was a three-day long exchange about malevolent vaginas. And it was funny as hell. But there was also a day-long exchange about the relevance of historic landmarks and whitewashing history (we have these sometimes so we remember that we're smart).
We live states apart, but laugh and cry together as much as we ever did when we lived in the same city. No matter what happens in my life here, these two are always in my pocket. I'm not very good at telling people how much they mean to me, but I have no trouble telling these two lifelines how much I love them. I hope everyone is so lucky.
I always feel like I have to check in with friends from time to time to make sure they still love me. I have tests...sort of like the GMAT, except really annoying and not that hard. Like the "will you drink my spit" test from If Lucy Fell, I like to see how far the limits of a friendship will go.
I can't count how many times I've asked certain close friends, "would you still be my friend if I?" questions. Like "would you still be my friend if I TALKED LIKE THIS?" (imagine cartoony high-pitched voice...or a thick Minnesota accent). Or "would you still be my friend if I weighed 400 lbs.?" (and the ensuing Part B, "would we still go to restaurants together?"). Variations follow, such as "What if I [insert really annoying habit here]?" and "Would you tell me if...?" ("would you tell me if my hair looked like 1999?" and "would you tell me if I was as self absorbed as [THIS PERSON]?").
I know I do it because I'm insecure, because I have trust issues, because I need the occasionally declaration of "this is why I love you." And if I think about it too much, I'm not even sure I'd want to be friends with me.
Lucy: Would you drink my spit? Joe: Can you take your weird survey somewhere else? Lucy: Answer. Joe: I´ll answer your question...but this is the last time I´ll talk about it. Lucy: The last time. Joe: You swear? Lucy: Mother Theresa and the missionaries drink the lepers spit. I wondered if you´d drink mine. Joe: I wouldn´t be interested. Lucy: Really? You don´t love me enough? Joe: Of course I love you. I just don´t want to drink your spit.
...is what I did for my birthday this year. And I love the results. I had a wonderful birthday weekend: four hours sitting for my new tattoo, sleeping late, shopping, my new Kindle arrived, having brunch, shopping, afternoon Family Guy marathon that went on into evening, pizza delivery (I haven't eaten pizza in almost six months), being lazy, doing a little holiday decorating. My new tattoo is my new favorite thing.
The art was done by Nate at A Million Tattoos based on a loose description (vintage lace...1920s) and some photos. I love it; it's feminine and girly, but it's still a tattoo (and it goes ALL the way around my arm, so just imagine how it felt underneath...Nate said I "sat like a champ" - which means I'm a tough girly-girl). It took almost four hours and the pain was totally worth it.
I'd need a lot more time and several thousand words to explain what it means to me. Suffice it to say that I've overcome (so many) obstacles in the past couple of years. I've lost and found and lost myself again. I don't know very many things about the me that I am, but one thing I do know is that she is not ordinary. Life is short. It should also be extraordinary. It's such a relief to discover that the me I've been trying to find is one I like so very much.
I no longer care about the destination...the journey is what takes my breath away.
Inspired by creative and talented writer friends Angie Mizzell and Janet Lee - because their work and words have given me reason to hitch up my creative britches and get to writing more than they know - I'm sharing my own writing space(s).
My "home office" (and the desktop where my iTunes library still lives):
Even though I do most of my writing on my laptop - and occasionally handwriting in a notebook - so I'm often here:
Or on my back deck, here:
It's the words, the inspiration, the motivation that comes from knowing someone else is struggling to make those words matter, just like you are (or should be). Once those words are out there, we tend to forget how they came together. I want to remember and live for right now, not upon publication, not when the check comes, not later, now. I want to enjoy the view.
Way back in 2003, my best friend Mary Kathryn gave me this scroll with a"true meaning of life" quote by H.H. The 14th Dalai Lama.
It says: "We are visitors on this planet. We are here for one hundred years at the very most. During that period we must try to do something good, something useful, with our lives. if you contribute to other people's happiness, you will find the true meaning of life."
It currently hangs on the wall in my kitchen where I can see it every morning when I brew my coffee and every evening when I take my vitamins. I read it at least once a day, and it gives me perspective on how I spend my time.
I've experienced setbacks in the journey to find my own meaning and the right place for me. I've had great joy and inspiration, but also have had to deal with having tiny little bubbles of hope burst unexpectedly. And not only does it sting, but it also makes me question my own judgment. One of the ways I try NOT to deal with that is to be hard on myself, but like most people, I seek blame internally. I find myself asking what I did wrong, what I didn't do right, how could I have screwed up so badly, and worse: whats wrong with me. Spend enough time inside your head being so critical, and that voice just gets louder.
Separating yourself from that internal criticism, reaching out to someone else who needs a boost more than you do, contributing to the happiness of others, and putting the brakes on wondering what's wrong can give you a different outlook on what's right. I'm not always great at doing it, but having little reminders like this one helps. And having it because it was given to me by a dear friend who understands me well enough to know that I need that reminder? Priceless.
Listening to iTunes yesterday on random mode, this song came up more than once in the shuffle. I think we all have strong sense memories associated with music, and this particular album (Beth Hart's "Singing for my Supper") reminded me of a road trip with a friend to visit another friend more than 10 years ago. The memory was so vivid...I could picture the CD I burned (it was pre-iPod), that my hair was platinum blonde, my vintage pink suitcase, the misty rain on the windshield, and singing along to the album at the top of our lungs. And I had one of those "what ever happened to?" moments.
I don't know where this person is or what she's doing now, because we're no longer friends, for a variety of reasons, most of which I cannot remember. It wasn't sudden; it happened over a long period of time of change in my life during which I decided I could no longer devote so much energy spending time around people who emotionally drained me. I remember several conversations and the difficulty I had confronting this person, her anger, her refusal to accept my wanting out of the friendship, and finally falling away gradually. As far as the friend we were going to visit, we had a very different falling out that lasted many years and only recently reconnected as acquaintances, which I think we're both more comfortable with, particularly since our falling out centered around boundaries.
A few years ago, I read a book called The Friend Who Got Away, a collection of stories about the end of friendships. There was one story in particular (I can't remember the author's name offhand) about "breaking up" with a friend. It made me wish I had the book a few years earlier. I knew I had toxic relationships in my life; I was just very bad at ending them. I let some go on much longer than they should have, until it was so bad I started avoiding phone calls or just blew up. It would have been a lot easier to sit down face-to-face and have the "it's not you, it's me" conversation and be honest about it. I have since learned that this conflict isn't a bad thing, but have also gotten a lot better about choosing the friends I do have. In my 20s, I picked friends who were as self-absorbed as I was. When I began to grow out of it, I couldn't maintain those friendships.
I've also been on the other side. In hindsight, I was the toxic one. In hindsight, the friendship was one sided, the effort to maintain it was all mine, and the friend was too kind or too cowardly to sever our bond. They died their slow deaths and I'm a lot more careful now to pay attention to the signs and signals. And then there are the friendships I may have overestimated, but didn't realize it until I was no longer in a position to "do" for them, turned around, and they were gone.
There are so many different variations and levels of friendship. I am so grateful for the friends I have in my life and lucky that these friendships have survived ups and downs and distances. I'm grateful for the opposite of falling away.
Case 1: The best friend. I met my current best friend during our first year of college and we were inseparable. About six years into our friendship, we had an awful falling out, an argument that escalated via email (never do this), and didn't speak for four years. And after that four years, it was she that reached out to me. I was hesitant at first, still feeling the burn of what had been said - despite the fact that four years had passed - but she persisted. And I'm eternally grateful that she did. More than 10 years later, we are still as close as ever. Closer, in fact, and we both agree that our four-year "separation" made us so. I know she'll always be in my life, that she's the first person I call when I have a good day or a bad one, and has picked me up off of the floor more times than I can count over the past decade. I was the "best woman" in her wedding and it was the only time I had ever agreed to be a member of any wedding party, including my own sister's. She wears her heart on her sleeve and it's really big. I call this one "Mary Kathryn" and I love her.
Case 2: The instant connection. I met one of my dear friends when she walked into the newspaper where I worked and asked for an internship. In a very short period of time (and after bonding over margaritas and a game of "never have I ever"), I knew we'd always be friends. She's the kind of friend who is supportive, but also doesn't put up with my bullshit. She tells me the truth. She loves to shop as much as I do. We once went to New York together and treated the entire city like a giant mall. She squealed like a little girl when we stumbled upon a two-story TJ Maxx. I drove to Asheville for her wedding. She drove three hours to spend four days with me after surgery in early 2008, knowing that I probably wasn't going to be the easiest patient (because I CAN DO IT MYSELF and DON'T LIKE TO ASK FOR HELP). On the second day, high on Demerol, when I told her she could leave and I could take it from here, she told me to shut up and go back to sleep. I call this one "Aleigh" and I know no matter how many miles separate us, we'll always pick up right where we left off.
Case 3: The drive by. I met another dear friend when she moved to Charleston to work at the magazine I was managing. We actually became friends after her interview and before she'd officially moved. I helped her find an apartment, which was right around the corner from my house. She could see my back door from her back door. And while she only lived around the corner for two years before moving to New York for another job, we've stayed in touch and I miss her every day. She could make me laugh like no-one else. We had adventures. We could turn a shopping trip into a day of hilarity. And she's the most no-bullshit, honest, forthright person I've ever met. I'm amazed that we only spent two years in the same city and she still wants to be my friend. I call this one "Erin" and I look forward to her late night phone calls after she's had a few cocktails when we spend an hour and a half on the phone giggling our asses off. And like the "Aleigh," months can go by and we'll always pick up right where we left off.
Cases 4-25: The supportive sistergirlfriend, or the "Doretha"; the writer friend who always knows the right thing to say, or the "Angie"; the straight-talking charmer who has a pep talk for just about any occasion and who picked me up from a fetal position on the floor and gave me the kick in the pants that I needed at the time, also known as the "Charlie"; the mentor and woman whose strength I aspire to, or the "Linda"; and the rest who know who they are and what they mean to me.
We met Sarah and her furbaby, Foxy Lady, not too long after we moved to Austin in January. They look so much alike that sometimes people stop me on the street to ask me why I'm walking Sarah's dog and they call Lulu "Fox." I finally snapped a photo of the two of them together...Lulu adores Foxy and tries to run across the street - traffic or not - whenever she sees her. Can you tell which one is Lulu?
I got this surprise in the mail today from a good friend. It's amazing how your friends, even when they live hundreds of miles away, know exactly what you need and when you need it. Like a lucky charm to remind you that someone is thinking about you even if you can't see them in person as often as you'd like.
I put it on as soon as I opened it and already feel more creative. And now I will sit back and wait to be overwhelmed by prosperity.
I would brunch every weekend if I could. While in Charlotte on vacation this weekend, Aleigh and I met our friend Lindsey for brunch at a lovely restaurant called Lulu. The food was A. Maze. Ing.
This is me waiting for Aleigh to snap the photo so I can dig in to my Lulu Benedict. It had lobster and a fried green tomato and something spicy and hollandaise sauce and I think it was from heaven.
Lindsey and Aleigh are ready to dig in too. Yay, brunch! I hardly missed the bloody marys and bellinis.
I am having a mini-vacation (back to work on Wednesday). I'm in Charlotte right now and today there were several hours during which I did not a) check my email, b) look at my blackberry, or c) know what time it was. Aleigh and I were in the middle of Target and I realized that I didn't know if it was 3 o'clock, 5 o'clock, earlier, later. No idea. Fish tacos for lunch, some shopping, manis and pedis (they're very summery pink), a visit to my favorite store in Charlotte, Paper Skyscraper, hanging out with the dogs in the backyard, chopping a big platter of veggies while Al made Caprese salad (buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes, basil from the garden, olive oil), and now I'm sitting with my feet propped up on a big stack of books that I plan to read this weekend. After we watch the Passion of Ayn Rand (we're both Rand geeks).
Tomorrow: Brunch, shopping at the Southpark Mall (Sephora! Joseph Beth Booksellers!), lounging, reading, frittering away some time, watching videos on my new favorite iPod Nano toy, taking the dogs for a walk, and forgetting where my watch is.
Charlie sent this to me (and I'd forgotten about it) with the email subject line "Maybe it's Maybelline!" Hilarious. We'd stopped off at Walgreens before the wedding we went to on Saturday to get memory cards for our cameras and I posed in front of the cosmetic display on the way out. Because I'd had some Xanax (at least the equivalent of a martini or two). And we're hilarious. Charlie kept calling me "trannie" and "hot mess" and "fierce" interchangeably. I did have enough makeup on to qualify for drag queen status.
(really just one rowdy friend this weekend). My good friend Charlie came into town from Austin and we had a blast. Shopping, mani/pedi, Target, making silly videos, a wedding, more shopping, a lovely dinner, a lovely brunch, etc. Charlie has an amazing ability to make anyone feel like a VIP (very important Princess). And he did that for me, even though it was his vacation.
This pic is one I shot with my short arm (OK, they're both short) and you can't see that we're wearing fabulous cocktail attire. And that we're at Sewee Preserve for a reception.
Which is why I can't go into great detail about my most recent vacation. What I can tell you is that it involved four days in a gorgeous apartment off of Washington Square, lots of giggling, an extremely quick trip to Tybee (no offense to regular Tybee-goers, but y'all, it was yucky), shopping and some more shopping, walking, seafood eating, grilling steaks in our lovely courtyard, disco dancing at a CVS, and more shopping.
This is my favorite photo of my friends, taken at the beach on Tybee. As soon as I snapped the pic, we got the heck out of there as fast as we could (before someone tried to sell us weed and/or confederate flags).
I met a llama (and for those of you who have been reading my blog for some time, you know that the llama is my spirit animal and I am a llama whisperer).
There was much merriment. Erin gives her version here. And if you gather from her post that I was the uptight finger wagging one on the trip, you're sorely mistaken. I was just the only one not drinking. But Jemima knows I can be trouble (make sure you read through to the part about where I tell Ian's brother-in-law that I have a good divorce lawyer on speed dial...ON VIDEO).
The only thing that was missing from our weekend was that Aleigh couldn't stay with us too! Of course, there was the getting married thing and the husband-to-be and all. So I'm about to be really, disgustingly mushy right now. You might want to sit down for this one. Even though weddings (and marriage) aren't my thing, I am so happy to have been part of my Gal Pal Al's nuptials. It's rare to know two people who are so perfectly matched, and to share in the beginning of a long and happy union. Yes, I did cry at the wedding. Because I was happy. And if you don't believe me, Jem took a photo. Bizzatch.
My friend Michael and I often email each other back & forth about random things, such as what we are currently listening to, what we ate for lunch, and how many more days it is until Heroes comes back on. Usually, he's listening to some crappy Eurotrash pop (or Gwen Stefani) and I'm listening to some godawful heavy metal or obscure trip hop. I joke about his musical tastes; I've actually gotten some good music recommendations from him (Amy Winehouse! Corinne Bailey Rae!) and he's helped me have an open mind about The Eighties Music and The Disco Music. We both love the heck out of Cyndi Lauper, Jenny Lewis, any chanteuse with an album between 1940 and 1970, and New Order. He's mocked me in the past for my brief affair with James Blunt (lasted five minutes, I swear), Tori Amos, and of course, All Things Metal. I made fun of his disco mix of Dolly Parton-doing-Stairway to Heaven (but listened to it in secret).
Today I was randomly sampling from my iTunes playlist and still had "Sister Christian" stuck in my head from earlier in the afternoon when Michael emailed me a "now playing" email with the following: Saw you walking out on Sentimental Street What cha going out there Who ya trying to be I know what you're thinking Cause I've been there myself...
What are the chances that our sometimes disparate musical tastes would converge and we'd find ourselves both listening to Night Ranger on the same afternoon? Something like one in 750,000, I think. I figured I'd ride that brainwave and try to send him vibes to come over and bring me dinner later, but unfortunately my good friend is attending a Reunite REO Speedwagon rally this evening. Otherwise he would.
I finished it on Friday afternoon and sent it all to my editor. And then I did the following: 1. Cry (happy tears). 2. Giggle my ass off. 3. Schedule a 90-minute massage for early Saturday morning. 4. Go home, sleep, wake up for an hour, go back to sleep. 5. Get massage. Feel human and amazing enough to grocery shop at Whole Foods following massage. 6. Eat lovely roast beast sam from Whole Foods Deli for lunch. 7. Sleep, an excellent nap with no fits or guilt or jerking awake. 8. Wake up, call BFF, go shopping at mall. 9. Return home and wonder what to do with free time. Decide to watch Shortbus (loved it; incredible, riveting, shocking...but would not recommend to the even slightly prudish). 10. Feel inspired and write essay for May issue even though I promised to stay off computer for 24 hours. 11. Wake up early Sunday morning with the whole day stretching in front of me like a lovely giant yawn. Eat cereal in bed, go back to sleep until noon. 12. Spend balance of day washing clothes, cleaning house, going through weeks of mail, and calling much-neglected friends.
Now that I know I can do this book thing, I've got three or four more ideas rolling around that I might put to the test in the next few months. For now, I'm not jumping into anything else too quickly. I have a long overdue haircut scheduled for Tuesday and lots of parties to take my new party dresses to this weekend.
My book editor offered a (completely unsolicited) extra six days for me to work on finishing the second half of my manuscript. I'm a stickler about deadlines and would never have dreamed of asking for an extension, even if the last chapter killed me, but my book editor is awesome and must have ESP because she just made my week.
Michael brought over jambalaya for dinner that was so good it made me want to ask him to be my lawful wedded wife, but I refrained. We watched a documentary on Charles Busch (The Lady in Question) instead. "I hate this house! I hate these walls... I hate that sofa! The only part of this dump that doesn't make me puke is that door - because that's the way I'm gettin' out!" ~Angela Arden
I get to see my favorite Aleigh in Savannah this weekend. Since I promised not to talk her out of getting married (which wasn't hard, since her fiance is a gem and a catch and a charmer), I get to be her break from talkin' 'bout the wedding stuff. Al and I generate a lot of creative energy together and I always end up with pages of scribbled ideas from our visits.
I think I'll be ready for the roller derby in about a year if I keep roller skating once a week. Adult skate, Thursday evenings, 6:30 to 8:30, Hotwheels James Island. $3 for admission AND skate rental. I'm skipping this Thursday, but will be back on wheels April 5. Janet, Katie, Leigh and I had a lot of fun last week (YES all my friends have blogs) because it's so very 80s and such a great feeling to pretend you're 13 again for a couple of hours. I leave you with two words: Side ponytails!
Wanted: One heterosexual male friend for friendship and activities that may or may not include: video games, movies, attending weddings, salsa dancing, kickboxing, short-to-medium phone conversations, discussions about why men behave the way they do, boyfriend recommendations and/or referrals, a couch to sleep on when I am unable to drive home, and road trips to Lands o' Kitsch (aka Giant Balls of Twine, Enchanted Forests, Dollywood, and any museum featuring Jackie O memorabilia). Must be able to read at a college level. Must always think I'm pretty in a totally non-sexual way, even when I am not wearing makeup. Must always find me fascinating and reciprocate by being fascinating. The unattached (or attached to non-jealous female) are preferred. Ownership of tuxedo a plus. Serious inquiries only.
Dang, I miss the Friday Five. I used to participate, the questions got tedious, then they went away. Today I found the new Friday5 site (they've been running them since the middle of last year) and figured I'd give it a whirl. This won't be a regular thing, because I had to scroll back a few months to find interesting Qs.
Talkin' 'bout Tools Where is your hammer, and what did you last use it for?Under my bed; I can't remember actually using it. I keep it there in case I can't get to my gun if someone breaks into my house. What is your everyday cutlery like?My fancy and everyday are the same: Oneida stainless with a "non-pattern" called Bergen. I like plain. What are you using for a toothbrush?The ones my dentist gives me when I have my six-month cleanings. How particular are you when it comes to writing implements? I go through phases. Right now I'm using Flair pens because my book editor had one when she visited for a meeting. I use regular #2 pencils a lot at work. What is the most use-specific tool you own?A weird little hex key that opens the a/c vent so I can change the filter that I have to special order because they no longer make that size.
Meme if you like! That's it for today. My favorite Aleigh is coming up from Savannah to visit this weekend and I must mentally prepare (kidding...I haven't seen Al since June when we were in NYC and I've very much looking forward to some Aleigh-time).
