NPR: national public romanticism

npr has a series, "this i believe". here's my contribution...

Soul mates and white knights don’t resonate with me. I’m not a woman who enjoys movies like “The Notebook” or “You’ve Got Mail.” However, I believe that human beings should be by love possessed.

It took a quiet divorce and some October “spring cleaning” for me to figure this out. Recently, I emptied the storage box that housed our mementos. In the dust of an attic, I filled trash bags with the greeting cards and photographs of my married life. I felt a little nervous, but it didn’t feel wrong. At age thirty, when you break up, you clean out. You move on, and you make space for what comes next.

While tossing these last tangible pieces of my marriage, I found an eleven year old envelope: one that I had scribbled a poem on while sitting in my ‘82 Chevy Blazer. I had gotten lost in the Forest Hill Cemetery looking for a grave site and couldn’t think of anything else to do. So I wrote; and yes, the poem sucked. But inside the envelope that the poem was written on were three reminders of my belief that people should be by love possessed.

The first was a eulogy I had written in a bout of gothic romanticism. You know, what would I do or say if my lover died? I read it sitting on the attic stairs, laughed, and tossed it near the trash bag.

Looking again through the envelope, I pulled out a Vonnegut short story, “Long Walk to Forever.” The eulogy boy had given it to me. It’s a short fiction piece about a soldier who goes A.W.O.L to see a girl he loves before she marries someone else. The soldier gets the girl. I smiled at Vonnegut’s romanticism and again tossed the contents of this envelope toward the trash.

The last thing I pulled out of the envelope was a poem by this same eulogy/short story boy. On a July afternoon, he drove an hour to my Knoxville condo to climb my second story balcony. While I napped on a pink couch, he snuck in and put this poem that he had written on the armrest beside me. I had dumped him, and he was forgiving me. Eleven years later, sweating my balls off in an attic, I read his words, “There is no Check Point Charlie, no Maginot line.”

Now, I hadn’t yet cried over my divorce and wouldn’t much, but this sentiment from a boy I loved in college made me lose my shit. Somewhere in my twenties, I had forgotten that someone had loved me enough to love me ferociously, to write it down, to make it real. At that moment, I understood that the choice to leave my husband was the right one.

I am a pragmatic and a realist (although some say cynic and pessimist). However, I will not again take my logical look on life into a relationship. I know now that balancing a checkbook does not a good marriage make. And that not fighting is not good. Most couples can choose a washer/dryer and agree on which house to buy. But not everyone can cross my Maginot line.

The papers in that envelope are the first prisoners of my personal war to find a place in another human heart. My armory in this battle is the poetry of T.S. Elliott, the smell of gardenias, the creak of wicker porch furniture, and the lull of Interstate 75 on the way to the Mc Callie School. These pasts lead me to the memory that I have been by love possessed. And the belief that I should be, again.

inside of me

random thoughts for the day:

1. i could open a nap bar. i am not kidding. i would have paid upwards of $50 to take a nap somewhere between 4:25 and 5:45 this afternoon. not enough time to drive home and snooze, and with a heat index of 98, i am not napping out in the jeep. i guess they have hotels by the hour, but i already have fleas...

2. picture this: one empty toilet paper roll on the bathroom floor. one empty toilet paper roll on the spool. one 3 sheets left toilet paper roll on the bathroom counter. no anal retentives here.

3. i am much better at tennis when i am trying to fondle the pro. too bad for my game.

ben folds is a candy bar

so this morning i got hazed by a fourteen year old boy for liking ben folds.
maybe he's right.

but the same thing i like about ben folds is the same thing i like about candy.
simple sugar. little substance beyond pep.

really- what's wrong with bobbing your head to the tunes of a developmentally arrested piano player who still shoots in 35 mm black and white (which is hot. hot. hot).

unoriginal commentary

just finished going to church... aka running 7 miles through belmont.
i think that the city of nashville needs to pay me a consultant's fee.
every tourist in nash stops me in the middle of my run to ask...

where is the belmont mansion?
where is union station?
where is the battle of franklin?
where is the arc of the covenant?

come on people.
learn how to read your yahoo map.
and the BIG BROWN road signs.

on a different note inspired by vh1 sunday movies.
what the hell happened to john hughes?
and the 13-25 demographic of cinematography for that matter.

check out hughes' resume before 1990.

1. Christmas Vacation (1989) (written by)
   ... aka National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (UK: complete title) (USA: complete title)
   ... aka National Lampoon's Winter Holiday (UK)
2. Uncle Buck (1989) (written by)
3. The Great Outdoors (1988) (written by)
4. She's Having a Baby (1988)
5. Planes, Trains & Automobiles (1987) (written by)
6. Some Kind of Wonderful (1987) (written by)
7. Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
8. Pretty in Pink (1986) (written by)
9. Weird Science (1985)
10. European Vacation (1985) (also story)
    ... aka National Lampoon's European Vacation (UK: video box title)
11. The Breakfast Club (1985) (written by)
12. Sixteen Candles (1984)
13. Nate and Hayes (1983)
    ... aka Savage Islands (UK)
14. Vacation (1983) (screenplay)
    ... aka National Lampoon's Vacation (UK) (USA: complete title)
    ... aka American Vacation (Europe: English title: video title)
15. Mr. Mom (1983)
    ... aka Mr. Mum
16. Class Reunion (1982)
    ... aka National Lampoon's Class Reunion

are these not some of the best f-ing movies EVER???
you know where you were the first time you saw 16 candles.
and you know you wanted your first kiss to be tinged by the smell of your hair burning in your birthday cake... maybe you wanted it to be judd nelson instead of the porsche guy- but you wanted it.

now the 1990's were not so good for mr. hughes.
this is what happens when you start making money... you want to make more, so you think a little blond screecher who is left alone for the holidays will help pay for your house in brentwood, california. or maybe you just bought your kids a freakshow saint bernard. and what the hell is flubber?

check out hughes' resume between 1990 and 2000.

1. Reach the Rock (1998) (written by)
2. Home Alone 3 (1997) (written by)
3. Flubber (1997) (screenplay)
   ... aka Disney's Flubber: The Absent Minded Professor (promotional title)
4. 101 Dalmatians (1996) (screenplay)
5. Miracle on 34th Street (1994) (screenplay)
6. Baby's Day Out (1994) (written by)
7. Beethoven's 2nd (1993) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
8. Dennis the Menace (1993) (written by)
   ... aka Dennis (UK)
9. Home Alone 2: Lost in New York (1992) (characters) (written by)
   ... aka Home Alone II (USA: short title)
10. Beethoven (1992) (written by) (as Edmond Dantès)
11. Curly Sue (1991) (written by)
12. Dutch (1991) (written by)
    ... aka Driving Me Crazy
13. Career Opportunities (1991) (written by)
    ... aka One Wild Night
14. Home Alone (1990) (written by)

so, for his success in the nineties, he obviously sold his soul to one of the devil's sidekicks- cause beelzebub wouldn't take a meeting with him...yet.

check out hughes' resume after 2000.
we were warned that the apocalypse was a possibility in the new millennium.

1. Beethoven's 5th (2003) (V) (characters)
   ... aka Beethoven's 5th: Big Paw (USA)
2. Maid in Manhattan (2002) (story) (as Edmond Dantès)
   ... aka Made in New York (USA: poster title)
3. Home Alone 4 (2002) (TV) (characters)
   ... aka Home Alone: Taking Back the House (USA: DVD title)
4. Beethoven's 4th (2001) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
5. Just Visiting (2001) (screenplay)
   ... aka Visiteurs en Amérique, Les (France)
6. Beethoven's 3rd (2000) (V) (characters) (as Edmond Dantès)
7. American Adventure (2000) (TV) (characters)
   ... aka National Lampoon's American Adventure (USA: complete title)

i am convinced that in order to impress the prince of darkness, j.h. gave us a 5th dog movie, a 4th screamer movie, and what is this people? oh yeah, maid in manhattan.

how do you go from ally sheedy to j-lo?

and, ralph fiennes, how do you go from the english patient to m.i.m and then back to the constant gardener?

somebody call the pope.

no man is an island

but damn i love being alone sometimes. this weekend my roomie went home for father's day. so it was me, my itunes, 6 new yorker magazines, and my bed. if i had gotten laid, it would have been perfect.

right now my coffe's running through me like a kenyon, and i'm listening to the pixies b-sides. i love life and am obsessed with my colon. obviously. i think i've got a new item for my vernacular, "b-sides". how can we incorporate this into our lingo? let's see. b-sides are the songs the the commercial pricks don't think will fly, but they are still valid enough creations to get out there jerry. do we consider them a little more risky or artisitc? does this mean the hot guy who works at grimey's records is a b-side and the sexy liberal attorney is an a-side? or is b-side just round 2 or more authentic. like is a second date a b-side? it's not as shiny and interviewy as the first, but it is a continuation of the first concept.

like, when i call and ask the dishwasher out again ( i want to hear nothing about the "rules." i am a woman and not afraid to roar), do i say, "hey-let's make a b-side to last thursday's cocktail hour."

or do i say, "that guy is so b-side. look at his van shoes."

hmmm.... will think about this as i run belmont blvd this morning. got to go. getting late.

get a cloth strip; she's waxing

it's amazing the things that make me appreciate who i am... and the ways that i have to learn these things.

sometimes i break promises.
sometimes i give up.
and sometimes i sit at the condo pool next to divorcee cats hitting on tubby chicks who whine about the fact that the cue sticks in the clubhouse need to be fixed.
really bitch?
do people play pool anymore?


anyway- the saving grace to my so called life is that my ipod comes this week.
i bought that instead of a TV for my space that i will move into later this summer. the question becomes how do i get high speed internet without giving comcast or bellsouth my money.
no cable.
no phone.
no internet?
seriously?

my life kicks ass. fo' sure.

the life less than aquatic

so little and so much.

first my job at the local southern ivy league has been dealable. i just have to keep focusing on the paycheck. thanks mom and dad for kicking me in the face when i acted like a social retard.

as for social events, last weekend i went to the racetrack across the kentucky border to lay some cash on the belmont stakes. too bad there were no REAL horses to bet on. just tv screens, betting booths, and about 786 grey haired people with oxygen tanks and salem ultra lights. i lost $9. to top it off, i was the DD for the trip; consequently, everyone else was having much more fun than i. after getting back to nash, we headed to south street where i played vodka catch up and ate grilled grouper and broccoli. unimpressive. then the kitchen manager came out and MADE ME eat some cheesy enchiladas made especially for our table. still unimpressive. then he MADE ME eat the homemade nutty buddy dessert. okay- i tried to get help with this one by asking each person to take a bite (really quietly, under my breath, possibly when they were looking at someone else). i tore that whore up. she couldn't walk for days. no more wondering how i keep my physique folks- this bitch eats. a bunch.

as for romantic exploits, i am tempering my comments about the flavor of the month. aka the dishwasher. if you don't write it down, then you can't get called out for it (like the time i wanted to marry my 11th grade boyfriend and wrote it in my journal or some such ridiculous place). all i can say is this guy solidifies all of the decisions i have made concerning men lately. this chap is my match as far as binge drinking, caustic commentary, and random obsessions are concerned. we shall see. we shall see.

Reality TV is the 5th Horseman of the Apocalypse

This is the quote from a 17 year old boy in my summer writing program. Can you believe it? I love America's youth. We are in good shape peeps. More to come later.

Seinfeld gots nothin on this be-atch

okay- i've been officially single for 2 months and realistically single for 8 months. i have been abstinent for 10 months. we are in a dry spell people. like saltines dry. so to remedy this condition, i have been dating or what can be loosely defined as dating.

“now, how do you meet men?”

this is the Q de jour. damn embarrassing when you have to explain to your mother that you get drunk in bars and not indiscriminately, but quasi-indiscriminately pass that shit (aka phone #) out like candy. the good kind of candy though, the halloween chocolate that you won’t share with your scary-ass big brother, but you will give to the girl with the unicorn pen. i have laughed in the faces of some who would desire me, but I have also shown up at radnor lake for a walking date and coveted the position of the road kill on otter road.

the fuzzy cat in the 40 yr old virgin said it best...(misquote to follow) i think its an evolutionary thing. the more seed you sow the more you grow.

he's got a point, but the quality of my crop is diminishing. so let's review the situations and ramifications of passing out your phone # in the music city.

we are working with february to June here... 4 months of cultivation and not a damn thing.

#1- hsv2... get out your physician's desk reference here peeps.
the highlight of the exchanges here included a chinese buffet that tore me up for 2 days and the quickening heart rate that accompanied the glance into his medicine cabinet. lessons learned- always snoop the medicine cabinet. it isn't sneaky; it's survival of the fittest.

fevies aside, i got rid of this cat because HE ATE TOO FAST AND WITH TOO MUCH VIGOR. like he hadn't seen a wanton in a decade. he also talked fast and ALOT. boys should be mute and mysterious. i could not get a word in during phone convos. there are things i can't say in impolite company. also... d-h-ing should cease in high school. if you are going to d-h, you might as well w-h.

the quote of the relationship: poet laureate says, "i'm not 15 years old; i'm 30. i'm not afraid to look at it OR touch it. i just don't want to... look- you beat off; i'm gonna go make coffee."

#2- colgate
my high school professional resume was more impressive than his present day one. he also could not bring himself to brush his teeth before our date AT 4 IN THE AFTERNOON. seriously. saving grace- phenomenally beautiful eyes. lesson learned- do not focus on one aspect of a person's character (or physical make-up). think whole package.

#3- shriaaamp(think bubba gump)
this cat was so short that i TOOK MY SHOES OF IN A BAR to be of equal stature. he called a lot. (think 7 times in one day) he as also affiliated with some gentlemen who made a name for themselves in college with strippers and domesticated animals. dairy products were involved here, too. lesson learned- if you wouldn't have hung out with his group in college, go west young woman.

#4- the 12 year old
hot. smart. 5 years old. his contact with me consists of text messages at 10pm on friday nights. he wants me to meet him out. for what i wonder? he didn't call me the next day, as i suggested, to invite me to an outing that i could tell my mother about. i am too damn old to be anyone's booty call. i call the booty, damn it.

#5- cat with small paws
there aren't enough words. all i can say is... myspace.
you know how your 5 year old niece wants to sit in your lap and play with your hair. well, so does this cat. it's about as sexy. so for his tentative touch and early references to marriage and children- we give him the diss. his hands were also the same size as mine. that's not right for a cat who is over 6 feet tall.

quote of the relationship: poet laureate says, "i think my dick is bigger than yours. either that or your pussy is bigger than mine. i'm done with you."

lesson learned: when someone posts a picture of himself and his cat on myspace, it's never good. or straight.

#6- i'm too sexy
we will just say that this is a friend. a nice boy, but not my boy.
lesson learned: don't drink too much at the local brewhouse and start looking at FRIENDS in a new light. if you didn't want to fondle him in the last 10 YEARS THAT YOU'VE KNOWN HIM then you don't really want to fondle. now i am getting stared at and asked about too much. too much.

#7- i see 47 year olds (think sixth sense)
because i am gettting more astute at avoiding sketchy situations, there isn't much to say. i clocked out when he told me that he had lived with a 47 year old yogi for 3 years. i am sure that she was super hot, but i ain't taking sloppy seconds from a grandmaw. no ma'am. when he calls to go to din din, i will screen baby, screen.

#8- the dishwasher
here lies the great white hope.
he does not wash dishes, but we must not utter his name, as is bad karma.
what if one of his friends was sitting next to us at a bar as we are waxing philo-sex-o-sophical? this is something that would definitely happen to me, so we are weary of discussing, "he who must not be named."

we shall see. we shall see.

speechless

i thought that it couldn't get worse than meg ryan and tom hanks, but thye've done it. "the notebook" is officially the worst movie ever. hands down, bar none. i would have killed them at the end if they hadn't died.

from an angel to the crack

the units came through town yesterday/today for their semi-annual visit to the black sheep’s’ town on their pilgrimage to harrisburg, pa… home of the relatives. as per usual, they fed the sheep and her roommate. the tin angel was the fare (btw. good eats, alton. good eats), and freudian analysis was the modus operandi. i, apparently, “think too much.” i liked the way he held my hand and looked into my eyes meaningfully (thanks daddy). it was romantic. no wait. twas gross and oddly uncomfortable. we don't do emotion in these parts mister. no sir. not this little missy. i guess the meal was worth the free therapy; i highly recommend the sun dried tomato dressing.

of course, i met them for breakfast at the crack(er barrel) out by opry mills. can we discuss opry mills? the only rival for disconcerting place in nashville is cool springs. can't decide which one gives me the heebie-jeebies worse. are rednecks scarier than the neuvo-riche? can i get a line call on this? you're right. it is definitely cooler to be a redneck at the cooter convention and be proud of it. you are who you are. did i mention the guy whose mullet made me choke back my turkey sausage and think, "babies in a blender... babies in a blender" to keep from laughing? my dad said that he looked like neil young. i should have kicked my dad's ass for that. poor neil would never wear the "cooter" emblazoned t-shirt to the crack. maybe to the grammy's.

and as we were sitting around clogging the arterials, my mom wonders aloud what i can do in the summer to earn like, hmmm, 20 or 30 grand (she wasn't kidding)- so that i can stay a teacher and not have to find a new job. my only suggestion was call girl (i was kidding). i figured that i could easily make a grand an hour. her grits disappeared quicker than my ideological philosophies after parent-teacher night. poor mommy.

they drove toward bristol. i slept the day away. life goes on. to be repeated in 3 weeks on their way back through town. maybe for breakfast, we’ll hit bob evans on music city drive this time. it’s so sweet when your parents travel 5th wheel style. so very sweet.

riverdale's man

All About Music TV & Film Event – 7:00 pm
Greg Johnson, Jackson Waters, Falling Up, Nevertheless, Sly, and Hawk Nelson

the boyfriend of our favorite hollywood actress is at 3rd and lindsley on 6/14. can't wait.

seriously

okay. myspace sucks and i miss my out-of-town amies. (speaking of myspace have you read the article in the new yorker about facebook? must be nice to be a 21 year old millionaire)

so we will see.

here are the rules
1. no capital letters but for Coney Island
2. no names

okay- my life is a hot mess. literally. i am sitting shirtless in my abode- not because i am an internet perv, but because the air-conditioning broke THREE DAYS AGO (breaking the rules already). three days. there are laws against this; how did quentin compson ever deal with this crap and have to listen to that fruitcake?

as of now... recovering from the trauma of last night. i love it when you can't offer your morning guests anything for breakfast because you don't grocery shop with anyone but yourself in mind (canned tuna fish, soy nuts, and natural peanut butter do not an impressive breakfast make. wait there is some yogurt that is only 3 weeks past date. hot.)

opie- do you have another nursery for me?? i need a mommy.

it's too hot to go out into the world, and my system is for a down today.
fyi- sulfites are my nemesis.
arch, baby.

so let's do an order of operations for last night...

heat(pinot grigio + hotdogs2) - (sharing a bed + birds at 4:30 am) + egg sandwiches in the a.m. = headache and sweats

this mathematical equation is heightened by the terror of a muscular system that has been trashed by ridiculous runs through pwp and the tennis pro's unique form of torture. (bend your knees when you serve bee-atch. arch that back. quit wiggling)

i am off to deposit my 4 cups of morning coffee and start on some gatorade. holy headache.

just realized that the lawn guys can see in my window. i wondered why it was taking them so long to weed whack. adding a shirt to my list of things to do today.