Monday, December 1, 2008


My girl crush on Tina Fey continues. I just read the Vanity Fair article on her and had to talk myself out of writing her fan mail. She has no idea that I think I'm her black alter-ego. I thought about that sense of kinship and then kind of talked myself out of it, and not just because I'm not Greek or German or any combination of the two (that I am aware of). I talked myself out of it because I thought of other women who I don't think are as funny or likable who would claim the same kinship and decided I didn't want to be associated with them. Yes, I'm petty even in abstract. Still, I admire her and wish her continued success and freedom to create.

Speaking of generating bad karma, I just put a piece of food on top of my dog's head. She looked at me with liquid brown eyes like, 'how will I get this delectable morsel from my head' and I thought, yep, I'll be stepping in some dog shit courtesy of that mean move. She incidentally bent her head down and used her paw to get the food within seconds so maybe I'll almost step in dog poop.

Though I have vowed not to speak of a current infatuation, I'll meet myself halfway and note only that it continues, capable of sustaining itself in a vacuum. While I haven't matured enough to stop nursing these pointless, awkward, childish, time-sucks, the reality of a woman in her mid-thirties who hasn't really figured out if she wants kids is that the decision will be made for me sooner rather than later. It reminds me of movies showing the pages of a calendar flipping away with increasing speed. It's forcing me to actually think beyond the melodramatic declarations of my 20's of what I would do if I found myself single past 29. I always thought I would have time. Time to meet him, time to be sure, time to enjoy the other's company without thinking about having to make a quick decision on whether there would be kids before my body closed up shop, or before we were both not interested in being old parents with young children. Time for all that stuff to just happen without concerted effort or thought. If I never have children, never get married, it won't be a tragedy or even unfortunate, it will just be. But I do feel the proverbial clock ticking--not as much the biological one as the one who will be deciding if it is time to start using 'age-defying' soap and deodorant (when did armpits become an area where I want to look forever 25?). I'm happy now to note a little suggestion of wear in my face as I'm just fascinated with how the body changes and can't believe already that it is showing history. If I lament anything from my 20's in the looks department, it's my awkward experimentation with eyebrow waxing (think drag queen thin), not wearing a good bra, and not capitalizing on what was a great figure.

But back to the crush. What I find the most amusing and maddening about them is the filter it puts on my thoughts and the weird teenage predilection to want to write him letters. I blame every single teen movie for that. Oh, and David Archuletta's new song, Crush (which yes, I totally downloaded-see what regressive behavior does to my taste in music?). Only in movies does a well-penned letter open the door to true love with a guy who is otherwise 'just a friend' or has only a marginal awareness of your existence. I have an adult friend who still succumbs to this indulgent adolescent behavior and the results are always the same-AWKWARD. It actually didn't work when were teenagers either. As both a sender and recipient of that type of letter, I think part of its ineffectiveness lies in what it is replacing, which is actual interaction with the object of your desire. Penning an op-ed hoping to convince a guy to return your affection simply because you harbor affection for him is silly. He's bound to be flattered but embarrassed both for you and him. Trying to spend time with a guy you like and hoping that something will spark--much smarter and sometimes even works. But for now, the ipod calls and I'm going to put Crush on repeat while I do laundry and try to learn all the words before I go to bed tonight.

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