A decade of talking about feelings

Ten years ago, today, I was already up to my chin in what would be an absolutely life changing summer. I am known to throw around the hyperbole pretty loosey-goosey over here, but as I look back on my development into human-hood, the summer of 2004 stands out as a 1-UP-mushroom game changer for life.

It comes down to having the opportunity to invent myself. I had never really had the chance to be new anywhere where people cared. The person I was in high school was just a slightly taller version of the neurotic, precocious asshole third grader I had been, despite the fact that I now had boobs and a quickly developing dry wit. No one cared if I had become a better human, they all knew me and had written me off (except for my friends. You four are the best).

In New York, I had time to perfect the version of myself that I had been cultivating. But I was also busy cultivating keeping our electricity on and learning how to be a functioning roommate instead of a slobby asshole. The summer of 2004 was where all the practice of being a person paid off. I was not the best version but I was finally, a version of me that I liked more than any of the other previous iterations.  It was nice.

Also, let's be real, it was a summer of hedonism. Booze, pasta, lack of pants.  I subsisted off of alcohol and whatever other people would feed me, with the occasional peanut butter sandwich. I lived in a room with a girl who I delighted in despising. She was a fine person, but it was more fun to hate her and make drama (though, with that in mind, we got along great for two people who shared a 10'x4' cell that was only ever 100 degrees F). And it was a summer of shitty things too. Some not-nice things happened. There were so many tears, and not-nice words. But even those moments are tucked away with, "I am happy these happened, they made me a better version of me."

I learned that life should be lived, if for nothing else, "just for the story." Most of my favorite, best, oft-retold stories are from those brief and shining months free from responsibility and left to make choices that felt right in the moment. So I almost drove a car into a house, and made my friend do a shot of cooking oil, and poured hot wax on another friend's chest by accident.

I lived with people that, somehow, to this very day are in my top 10 of favorite people. I also lived with people who I have never seen since, and that is just as awesome. They came into my life for this one shining moment, with their kittens and their Mormonism and their ginger boyfriends.

It would have been totally different if I went to actual college, if I had four years of what I got all in one summer. I probably would not hold this summer up on quite such a large and sparkley pedestal, but I feel like I almost prefer it that way (which is good because our time machine is in the shop).

Since the end of May, I have been thinking about this post, and these memories. I have been reliving it with some of the cast of characters but mostly alone, enjoying reflecting on a time that feels so far away, and yet, not that long ago. I also am grateful/wistful/thoughtful that this all happened before facebook was even a twinkle in our eye. So the only picture I could find online of it is this one.

Which is pretty perfect (despite the fact that my shirt looks really weird). I am fairly sure I had no idea how that camera worked. It is only because of this turd nugget of a magnificent human being this even happened. Stupid Mikey Pits putting ideas in my head and instigating dumb shit like this.

While it is only in retrospect, I am always and forever (ie- never), tryna hang out.

the wonder friends

Today has kind of been the BIGGEST day for many, many reasons.

This blog is only going to talk about two of them.

Specifically these two.

They aren't friends anymore. But in honor of the fact that they are both 30! YEARS! OLD! on this Monday, they get a joint post. Sorry ladies, its Monday night, and I am drunk on red wine and tuna melts, I only have one blog post in me.

Once upon a time, I was 19 and I had no idea what was going on. I grew up in a small town where everyone knew who I had been since the age of 6. I couldn't shake off 3rd grade memories no matter how hard I tried to redefine myself. And then I moved to New York, where I could have redefined myself if anyone had given a shit. Which, surprise, surprise, no one really did.

And then! I got to move to a small little cesspool of insanity (known as summer stock theater) where no one knew my business, and I got to be whichever version of myself I wanted to be. I managed to spin the wheel and land on a version of myself that seemed to attract some really great people.

And thus began, 8 years ago, the silliest summer of my life. I try not to dwell too long on the past, but the summer of 2004 will always be ingrained as the best, worst summer of all time. As I reminisced about it today:

"...we made some really astoundingly bad choices. And we only ever had enough money for booze. And we kissed boys who made us cry. And we had the literal definition of dead-end jobs. And we ate week-old crabs. And yet we were still the happiest of girls..."

And these two amazing women, who have pretty much knocked life out of the ball park in the past 8 years in their own ways, were the two people who bought my new personality, hook, line and sinker and wanted to keep me around - even after the dream summer ended, and I went back to my real life, 15 pounds heavier and so much more aware of the kind of person I wanted to be as a twenty-something.

These girls taught me that its acceptable to do things just for the story. To write it all down. To get your heart temporarily broken for a night of fun. To play the "let me tell you about yourself" game. They taught me that people will love you even when you pour candle wax on their chests. And almost drive their cars into a clothes line. That its okay to be made fun of when you deserve it. And its okay to cry when it all gets to be too much.

When I first met these two girls, they were fresh-faced college graduates and I idolized them. I could not believe that these two people who seemed so much cooler and more grown-up than me wanted to be my friend. And even though I have never had an iota of true self-confidence, they made me feel like I was an awesome, hilarious person. They are both also awesome and hilarious.

So thank you. Thank you for 8 amazing years of self-discovery and debauchery.  Happy 30th Birthday!

Book 1 - One Day

So this is kind of cheating, because I started this book in 2010, but its kind of like when you had the chin-up tests in elementary school gym class and you would jump a little bit to give yourself momentum so you could at least do one.  I am just giving myself some momentum.

I read this book on recommendation from McKim.  I enjoyed it.  It is a quite perfect lazy reading book.  It is probably meant for beach reading, but it was also nice for the airport and early winter mornings with tea and a blanket and some leftover pie for breakfast.

By far the most enjoyable part of the book was that it was written in British dialect.  It was like reading a language that you are almost fluent in, but do not quite grasp the idioms.  There were words or phrases that gave me pause - but overall, I loved being able to read the book in my head with a British accent and use phrases like "rolltop jumper" and "half five."

Without giving too much away - I felt that the end of the book was kind of a cop-out on the writer's part.  As if he did not quite know where to take the story and so took the very, very easy (for a writer) way out.  It makes you realize why When Harry Met Sally ends where it does.

Apparently they are making a movie of this book.  While for a moment I thought I would go see it in a theater, the fact that Anne Hathaway is in it, makes me think I'll probably wait until I can get it at the Red Box.  There is nothing wrong with Anne Hathaway - I am sure she is lovely girl, but she is 1-NOT BRITISH.

McKim and I already recast the movie with Emily Blunt and Ed Westwick.  Sadly, I just read that they have already wrapped on filming and so my wishes will probably not come true. 

On to book 2.

every year it gets a little harder

Three years in a row, baby.

This year looked bleak until about uhh, 3 hours ago when I finished. Seriously I do not know how I got this done. It's pretty fantastical considering I work at least 60 hours a week between two jobs, have rehearsal, classes and what might be considered an active social life.

But I did it. I got it done. Just barely at like 7:30 I finished all my words. I decided to go to one of the nanowrimo social events which was a first for me. And it was actually kind of awesome. When I finished my 50,000 everyone applauded for me. That's all I want, is some one who knows what's like to be like, "yeah, you're awesome" and I got 15 people to do it. It made it just that much more worth it.

This years thanks go out to:
Tierra and New Orleans. I've never hung out with a group of strangers who were more interested in hearing about this. Plus, for some reason in New Orleans I was able to wake up every morning at 9 AM and start writing, even if I had been drinking until 3.

My new papason chair. It might be the best writing chair in the world.

My roommates, for being there.

And as always, McKim, even though she dropped out, she was still there supporting me all the way when I needed it. Its you and me in '08, C.

Listen, every time I write a novel I get a little more awesome. Time for Christmas!!