Sunday, June 26, 2011

Dear George...

Dear George,

I am terribly sorry to hear about your break up with Elisabetta. She seemed like a lovely girl. Rumor has it that her interest in getting married is what got in the way of your relationship, a problem I think I have the perfect remedy for:

I am already married.

Really, it is beautiful. Marc won’t have a problem with this arrangement as you are number 1 on my “Celebrity Hall Pass” list and have already been pre-approved. If by chance his feathers do get ruffled, we can introduce him to Scarlett Johanssen and all will be well. You’ll like him, by the way- I can totally see you two playing basketball and being best buds. No “Indecent Propsal”- like jealously here!

I offer the following qualifications for this role:

-I eat Italian fluently
-I think I look good on a Harley, not that I’ve been on one before
-I am from New Jersey and therefore have mad driving skills for avoiding paparazzi
-I think your dad might actually be more handsome than you are
-I totally support your Sudan work and I would be a delightful First Lady of Save Darfur
-I loved Ocean’s Twelve and will not let anyone talk me out of it

One thing we should discuss is children. I already have two little beauties, but I firmly believe that your refusal to have children is simply unacceptable. Your genes are spectacular. To not pass them along would be a travesty. At a minimum I hope you are donating anonymously to sperm banks around the globe, but I would also be happy to have one or two little Georges and raise them all by myself. I’ll even give them mini-Caesar haircuts like back when you were Dr. Doug on ER. Can you imagine anything cuter? Didn’t think so.

I don’t need a whole lotta money, just use of the Lake Como pad from time to time and like $300,000 a year. I don’t need to go to the Oscars and parties and whatnot, we can sit at home and watch your Batman movie where your costume has the molded man-nipples and eat pizza. I have no interest in talking to Us Weekly. Our relationship will strictly be between you, me, and the eight people who read my blog.

Also, I am a tall brunette, which seems to be your particular cup of tea, so I have that going for me. And I love Kentucky. And your Aunt Rosemary was the coolest.
Should you have any questions regarding my additional qualifications for this role, please email me.
Much Love,

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

I Would Like to Return My Big-Girl Panties, please?

Man does being a grown-up suck. When you're little being older is so glamorous- "you can't drive until you're 17! You can't be a senator until you're 35! social security is for grown-ups!", and then you get to be in your thirties, and if you're lucky you've got a good job, some family and friends and a place to live.

But no one tells you this- your friends will get sick. You will know women who cannot conceive, and in some instances you will know of babies and children who die. You will have friends, close friends, who will go through divorce. Parents become older and fragile, and suddenly you are forced to acknowledge that they will not be here forever.

The unfairness of life will unveil itself in all of its depressing glory.

I have two close friends with significant health problems- one is living with MS, the other with 10% kidney function. A family member recently lost a perfectly healthy three day old baby for seemingly no reason. One of my husband's best friends, a groomsman at our wedding, has separated from his wife after she told him she felt she was a better person alone. My dad has had a series of small strokes over the last year that I am grateful have not been more serious, but still force me to think about matters that I am simply not ready for.

I don't always know what to do in these situations. I've offered help in ways big and small, promised my kidney should it be needed, cried for a mother and newborn child so cruelly taken from her. My husband helped his friend move out, I've visited and talked with parents a lot about courses of treatment and what the next phase of their life together will look like. But I still feel pretty helpless in each of these situations. So I try to make myself useful in other areas like donating to the local infant and maternity home in hopes that the karma will come back around to those closest to me.

Now might be a good time to mention that I live somewhere on the border of atheism and agnosticism. We don't need to get into the dirty details but I know that this is where most people would say that prayer would not only help my friends but would make me feel better too. I was raised Catholic, so I understand the viewpoint, but i think it would have been a whole lot easier if God had just not visited these problems upon my loved ones in the first place, no? And then no one would have to pray, beg, borrow or steal to be made whole again. I don't get why we would ask God to fix something he broke. It's like asking the mob boss who ordered you to be knee-capped for help paying your hospital bills.

The funny thing is though that my friend's MS has helped her find her voice, and her calling as a writer. My friend with kidney disease still lives extremely well with limited issues but an emphasis on taking care of herself instead of working 100 hours a week as an attorney. Our separated friend has a new girlfriend and seems to be coping well. My dad is great. Still a little weird, but great.

The mother who lost her child- well, I know she has taken time for herself to heal. I cannot imagine what just getting out of bed each day must be like for her. There's no bonus to her situation. But I know she has a heart the size of Montana, and a family who loves her, and I can only hope she is able to heal in a way that allows her to move forward with hope.

Yeah, being a grown-up can suck. But at least I can drink wine now to cope.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Nice is Different Than Good

I'm not a terribly nice person. I am kind and friendly, but not nice. I have an inherent mistrust of people who are infallibly nice- something has to be wrong with them. I think that's part of why I don't trust Mormons. No one can be that nice all the time, especially without coffee. But nice is overrated: there's a song in the musical Into the Woods with the line "nice is different than good". Amen.

When I think of "nice" I think of someone who wants to be liked. Always. But for everyone to like you all the time you are at their mercy and not able to be yourself. That must be a sucky existence. Imagine pretending you actually like stinky cheeses, "The Happening" and the Shake Weights your friend got you for Christmas. Horrifying, no?

I'm a strong personality- sarcastic, opinionated, with no poker face to hide my disdain. I am not everyone's cup of tea, and that is fine-I'm not running for prom queen. I will always tell you the truth, so don't ask for my opinion if you don't want to hear it. I am judgmental but I've been working on that, I just get a very clear reaction to people when I first meet them and it is difficult for me to change that, whether positive or negative.

People love golden retrievers and labradors for their friendly, low-maintenance demeanor and loyalty. I think I'm more of a doberman: kinda intimidating, a little too smart, but deeply, fiercely loyal. If I love you and someone hurts you, I will rip their throat out. Well, not literally, but you get the point.

Girls are brought up to be sugar and spice and everything nice. But nice doesn't mean keeping your opinions or feelings to yourself, or sacrificing your individuality for the above-referenced prom queen title. I'm far enough in my career that I know how to professionally disagree and argue my point, but i wish in my early days that had been more assertive and less worried about being liked. There's a reason you don't write about how popular you are on your resume. I highly recommend a book called "Nice Girls Don't Get The Corner Office". It is eye-opening and extremely helpful for women on any career path.

I shall leave you with the below line, uttered by the witch in Into the Woods, as food for thought:

I'm not good; I'm not nice; I'm just right.

Judgmentally Yours,


Monday, June 20, 2011


So I established this blog but had put off actually doing anything with it because I wanted to come up with some fantastic manifesto of who/what/how I am and I just kept getting hung up on it. Instead, I've decided to be lazy and just do a Joycean stream of consciousness thing that I do hope you'll enjoy and will give you some interesting factoids about me.

Also, if you are reading this you probably already know me. If you don't know me, congratulations on your ability to search the minutiae of the interwebs in order to land here.

I am a 34 year old married mother of 2 living the DC area. I have a very good job that I truly enjoy. I like wine. I like terrible TV, but am a snob about it- (Real Housewives- yes. Jersey Shore- no way). I also like very good TV, like Mad Men, but my heart will always belong to Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I love my girls, but I love my job. I will not apologize for that. I would be incomplete without either, and I am constantly working to achieve some kind of balance. I am not a helicopter mom, but I love my daughters fiercely. I am politically and socially liberal, but I am endlessly pragmatic. A grounded dreamer if you will.

I have great friends, an awesome family, and a wicked sense of humor. Or so I am told. I have a healthy appreciation for irony but not ironing. I am a natural debater and enjoy good intellectual banter. I do not care for hypocrisy or pretension, but I can be quite forgiving of both because I suspect we are all trying to be someone we have not quite become as of yet.

And with that, Allons-y!