One of the treasures I found in my basement during our recent purge was this [ahem] book I wrote for a friend of mine. An old boyfriend, actually, but the terrific kind you end up wanting to keep as a pal forever and who gets along famously with your husband. I'm guessing it's been a decade at least since I composed this piece of chummy chutzpah. I base so much of my time reckoning on my dog—Was that the pre-Izzy period? Or did it happen after he came to live with us?—and in this case, I can't quite recall if we were with or without our pet. At any rate, Dave (that's the friend who was the lucky object of my concern) was living in Las Vegas, and we were in frequent contact by telephone and computer. Dave was living the life of a swingin' but lonesome bachelor, and seemed both eager and reluctant to settle down. After a long string of melancholy communications from him, I decided it was time to lay the lecture on the line.
But I couldn't do it in the usual way. Regular old rude finger-waggling just ain't my style. So, armed with way too many magazines, a pair of scissors, some bond paper, a glue stick, and tongue in cheek, I commenced with my sage advice.
Luckily, I made myself a photocopy of my masterpiece of motivation, and sent him the technicolor original. It's fun to relive this little moment of our lives.
By the way, not too long after my ransom note-style discourse, Dave pulled on his trunks, dove into the gene pool, and surfaced with the woman of his dreams. They were married in Boston, and I'm assuming they lived happily ever after, but I can't say for sure; it's been a while since we've heard from them. Time to do a people search.
Enjoy. (Don't forget to click on the images for a larger view if you aren't able to read some of the microscopic details.)
P.S. The parenthetical statements are supposed to be Dave's muttering responses to my sermon, more or less. Just an FYI. Also, the "calcium-enriched"/medical page references a sobering sort of health scare Dave passed through (and eventually vice versa) during that time, which, shall we say, served to get his attention as touching all issues manly and procreative. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
Thankful for:
•"Mom's Stuff" made by lovely Lee (see celebrity endorsements)
•going outside with a trash bag at midnight and getting to see the big fat yellow half moon set
•grabbing my coat and chasing the moon down the street until it was finally out of sight
•knowing I'll wake up to more order than usual
•not thinking of it as losing sleep but as enjoying quiet, productive time
•the incredible tree heart my cousin sent me (this is something I must post about)
•dropping off another carload of weeded out stuff at D.I.
•ceviche
•a new blow dryer (finally)
•full warranties
•Bumble & bumble
•Comet
•getting to see M. and S. together tonight as a newly engaged and very happy couple
•being told by S., "We owe it all to you!" (a matchmaker's vain dream come true)
•visiting with out-of-town family
•my young niece knitting her first stitches—Hurrah! Another convert!
•kissing my baby namesake
•jicama + hummus
•compassionate Rob
•Kathryn Kennington's BFA final show: "Treasures of a Child"
•getting all the bananas frozen before Sunday
•a surprise soul-filling good-enough-to-cry-about email from my darling Billy
•working to classical music
•Phoebe's CDs (that's fun to say)
•blog friends who make it like comment Christmas (you are my elf heroes)
And I don't mean your stomach. I mean your closet . . . your basement . . . under your bed . . . every dusty, forgotten corner of your life that needs to be swept clean. That's what we're doing this week. All week. Rob and I. We're in our underground hellhole, sifting through the rubble of life, making space, thinking yard sale thoughts, reclaiming what is rightfully ours—peace. It's an intimidating task, this basement blitz, but it's got to be done. We need to finish our house. We need to find room for life and expansion. All week we'll be down here. Hopefully the basement monsters won't win the war and take us prisoner.
Here's a secret that you probably know already: Awful tasks need a motivating soundtrack. How lucky am I that this month David Byrne's got a great playlist on tap? You really ought to check it out, directly through iTunes (look under "Radio" and then "Eclectic") or online here. This'll keep me going for . . . days, I hope. A spoonful of sugar and all that.
Hey! Good news! I set up two friends just over a year ago, and last night they called me on their way home from a trip to Canyonlands to tell me they got engaged beneath Delicate Arch! I'm so excited! And also now I am completely convinced of my supernatural matchmaking abilities. Yes, folks, I'm hanging out my shingle. Step right up. Grand opening specials!
