But Call Me Betsy

Oh, God, if you ever want an exercise in hilarity or, I don't know, sadness or self-reflection, try reading your old journals if you have any. I've been keeping some sort of diary since I was ten and paged through one today from when I was twelve going on thirteen. You wouldn't believe the things I wrote--well, yes, you would--they are so...Twelve year old-ish, but at the same time, they were part of who I would become or who I am. Lots of lists of things; lists of what music I liked, of movies I'd seen over the summer, of boys I had crushes on and there's also this fear of sounding too corny while at the same time sounding corny. A sarcastic self-emerging at the age of 12. And boys. It's always and forever about boys. I had a three year crush on a kid in my church choir, Steve Crossett. He was a year older than me and had red hair and freckles and was in all of the honors classes which I thought was so cool. He wore gray corduroys and Izod shirts (collar unpop...

That's what I'm doing right now. Startling the animals in my house because I have decided to become a rock star and have been practicing my singing/dance routine in the living room. It's best to do this in your socks if you have faux wooden floor such as I do because it allows you to slide around much easier and it increases your repertoire of dance moves by at least 12%. Also, best to wear a tank top and blue jeans. Or a leotard if you're planning a lot of elaborate jumps. I guess I'm being kind of loud and probably not quite on-key (can't tell with my i-pod on) because my cats have their ears back like they do when they hear fighting outside or a sudden whistle or the lyrics of "It's the End of the World as We Know It" belted out with the necessary jumping up and down to accompany that particular piece. How about a less energetic one; how do you feel about The Postal Service's "Such Great Heights?" Nope, they don't much care for...

I've been remiss the last two weeks with a report on The Bachelor, and I do solemnly apologize, to Julie and possibly Jess and maybe Hasana, the only people (besides me) who might enjoy these posts. That said, we are down to the final three gals...Shoshanna, Amanda, and that other girl. We know that he's going to end up with Amanda, so why must we go through with this charade? According to Julie, last week was an awesome freak show with the home visit, including Shoshanna's mom who has so much plastic surgery that she's unrecognizable as a human being. Lorenzo Llama told Matt that his daughter is really on the show for the TV coverage. On her date, Amanda fooled Matt by hiring actors to play her parents, something I'm sure that she didn't think of on her own; I'm sure that NBC or CBS or whatever stations sponsors this show came up with to be clever. Noelle was let go, but we don't really care, though we will miss her crater-like dimples. Tonight, he gets...

I still don't like Mondays, because they remind me of that feeling of facing a week of things you're supposed to do, i.e. the beginning of the school or work week and how far away the days are where you get to pick what you want to do. I suppose now would be the perfect time to attempt to change my perception by shaping Monday into anything I want it to be. Monday is cupcake day! Monday is library day! Monday is likely "buy one/get one free" at least one Philadelphia thrift store. I could make Monday the day where I do something indulgent for myself like having my knees waxed (?). But it would be a fight to shake that feeling of drudgery that accompanies the start of the week. I dreamt the other night that I was scheduled to do a one hour stand-up routine at this used bookstore in State College. I was with two other comedians and I had to go first. I realized five minutes before the show began that I didn't have any material. I was like, Oh, shit, I guess I can wi...

I know they have to hold the member drive and raise money for "Car Talk," etc., but I am still not even a little bit motivated to send a pledge to NPR. I keep waiting for even the slight tingling of the tipping point where I'll start to feel a little convinced, like, "Wait, what kind of tote bag are they giving away? A subscription to which magazine?" So far, I haven't even felt the littlest bit like calling in and hearing my gift make a pling noise on the other end. Maybe if I were more flush. Play writing class today and I have nothing to bring in and I decided I don't care about that either. In other news, my bike has finally made it out of the basement to sit next to the radiator for the next couple of months. No, I am going to try to actually ride it soon...Still need to take it to the bike shop and get the tires filled and find the key for the lock and buy a helmet and so I'm certain that by August, I will have ridden at least up the block a...

I don't know what's happening or why my posts have all suddenly huddled together on April 19, but the last post is from today. Was there some kind of weeklights savings time that no one told me about? Just wanted to clarify.

These are the people in my neighborhood. You can click on each photo to get a larger view. How would you caption the photo to the left? "What's for dinner? Please don't tell me it's African deer pot pie again." Or this next photo. Hm m...Do you think a woman has been in this house for the last ten to twenty years? If so, what is she like? I particularly love the unlit Bud Light sign in the middle pane. The other window photo is difficult to see. I tried to take the picture from several different angles, but they all turned out wonky because of the way the light was falling. In any case, you can see that the family loves Winne the Pooh (far left), Tigger, Pikachu, and these sort of Buddhist looking figures or maybe they're Asian wisemen.Finally, meet Barbara, the exotic parrot who hangs out in front of thi s house on 8th Street (my friend Mary Beth told me her name. Apparently, the bird is a well known fixture in South Philly). You can't see it, but to the...

The truth is, I haven't yet decided who I'm voting for tomorrow. Well, obviously not John McCain, but I'm on the fence about H and O. My friend Ben has been trying to get me to send an email to the Hillary peeps saying she should drop out and though he can be persuasive in many, many ways (he's an attorney and so cannot stop arguing and saying things like, "Permission to redirect, your honor"), I have not caved. Philadelphia seems to love Obama ...there's a million and one of those blue and red drawings of him and not even one caricature of Hillary to be found in the whole city.Walked to Rittenhouse today to do some writing and was given a flyer by a random Democrat running for court jester who luckily didn't try to talk to me further, but I did get to see a few disgruntled teens with skateboards drinking huge cans of beer and attempting to catch pigeons with their bare hands. I'm ambivalent about both candidates. I want to vote for Hillary b/c I...

I could not be a reporter. I can't imagine trying to fill airtime with b.s. and guesses and sounds of people shouting and making pronouncements based on little information from various even less informed sources. According to NPR, it appears that Hillary will win PA and this gives me a stomach ache. Not that I hate her or anything, but I just really don't think that the American public will elect her for president. Probably not Obama either, but I was (am) rooting for him. So does this mean that we will have another f-ing Republican president? I will have to defect. I'll move to Montreal to become the nanny of Hasana and Will's pending baby. For real. I can learn French or at the very least, can do an excellent French accent and just tell people who are speaking to me in French that I am trying to practice my English, please, if you do not mind to speak avec moi only in English, Frere Jaqcues, et parlez vous Pig Latin, if you si vous plait? Heard today that President Bu...

I somehow accidentally voted for George Bush today. What the hell is going on? The weekend before last, Liz and Luke were up visiting from Park Slope and I told them this story about an email I got wherein the guy used (and misspelled) the word "masterbation" three times in two sentences. I can't remember who said the phrase first, but after I told that story, someone referred to the act of "sadly masturbating." We could not stop laughing. I almost choked on my eggs from hysteria (this is how we are all emotionally about 10 years old). There has also been some debate about what poem I'm going to read at their wedding in July. Liz wants "i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)," a lovely e.e. cummings poem, but it's been in a couple of movies so recently so now we're possibly looking for a different poem. I suggested a couple of others and then wrote one for them that referred to our conversation about sadly masturbating. Here it...

For some reason, John Malkovich came up last night at Royal. Can't remember why...Maybe it had something to do with horoscopes? But why would that be? Or maybe because I recently heard an excerpt from the seduction scene with Uma Thurman in Dangerous Liaisons . That's probably what it was; Uma was being interviewed by our friend, Terry Gross, the woman who sometimes asks interesting questions and sometimes asks really dumb ones like, "What's your favorite color and why? Growing up, what was your favorite lunch or did you brown bag it?" Oh, dear, I just googled an image of Terry Gross and now I have to rethink my entire impression of her. Just look. See, I had an entirely different picture in my mind; sort of this buxomy lady in a power suit with shoulder-length hair that flips up on the ends and here she really is, looking like the female version of Bill Gates. I like her better now. Isn't it weird how voices can be deceptive? I guess I think my voice matches ...

Had a conversation tonight with my new bff, Iona (sp?) this cutest girl in the world with big brown eyes and pretty black hair pulled back into a kind of Jackie O meets Dita von Teese thing. We were trying to figure out how it is exactly that guys think about relationships. She's slightly interested in this awkward, shy guy who wears Converse sneakers and says cryptically relationship sounding things like, I'm old-fashioned. I like to take things slow. And yet, he does not seem to be even a little bit ready to kiss her. They've hung out about 25 times and talk on the phone for hours at a time, and he still just shows up and laughs at her jokes and then yawns and goes home without trying any funny business. What does this mean? On what plane is he operating? Was he born in the wrong decade and is he waiting to meet her parents over tea so that he can request a carriage ride through Center City wherein he will offer her a handkerchief to cover her delicate face and perhaps le...

We went over my first date scene in class today and it was okay, except that it seems that the guy character isn't as developed as the female. Or they're too similar or something. Too clever and glib. What I need to do is sit my ass down and write the whole thing instead of these dribble and drabble of scenes that may or may not be adding up to a coherent piece. We read another scene by a guy who has very little playwriting experience. It was called "Leave Behind." Excerpt: Son: Mom, I am a grown man, but I understand that in your eyes, I will always be your baby and that is something you can not (sic) leave behind. Mom: Its like how you can't leave the Jersey Shore behind, I can't and will not leave being your mother behind. (Side note: I wish, I wish, I wish there had been a typo so it had read: "I will not leave being your mother's behind behind.") Son: You will always be my mom, mom. Mom: I better be! The guy and I reading the two parts out l...

No Bachelor post for Monday as I was indisposed (i.e. out and about picking up strange men in local bars). Julie told me that the black girl was kicked off, along with psycho Robin. She also sent me the link to nbc to watch the show, but I haven't had time to do that, because I am so busy, people.  Right now, I'm sitting in Mary's living room has wonderfully big windows and overlooks an important river whose name I'm too lazy to look up on the map. As soon as Renee fixes her glasses, we will be jumping on the #7 subway line to Grand Central and then getting another subway to Canal Street and Chinatown and then Soho and Tribecca. I love New York--we've had about five conversations with strangers so far today and I petted 3 dogs and one very old cat in the pharmacy store (Charlie, an orange Tom who is twenty and likely to die within the next twenty minutes). Yesterday, we walked around near Times Square and then out to dinner at Vnyl with Mary and her two co-workers. ...

I dreamt last night that I fell asleep for three years. The first thing I saw when I woke up was J-Lo, looking much worse for the wear; many wrinkles and come-back movies. What does this mean? On ER last night, Abby half-quoted one of my favorite e.e. cummings poems. "I Carry Your Heart with Me." Here it is, in it's entirety: i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without (anywhere i go you go, i go, my dear; and whatever is done by my only me is your doing, my darling) i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want no world (for you beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. i carry your heart with me ...

It occurred to me today that I currently happen to know lots of really good men. I've always had good girl friends; women who are giving and thoughtful and willing to listen to me go on and on about cats and SVU and Flight of the Conchords and library books and the other things that disproportionally occupy my thoughts. And I still have lots of those girls around. But just noticed that I also happen to have a high number of good boys in my day-to-day life. There's Dave who will read my scenes and forgive me my trespasses. Padhraig who lets me steal back books I just gave him and makes CDs for my ipod. HH who said to me on the phone the other day, I wish I could hear you better on your cell phone. Your phone cuts out and I feel like I'm missing some of your Aimee-ness. The boy from Circle Thrift who offered to let me use the new restroom they've put in and who looks exactly like Bret from Flight of the Conchords (I swear to God).G. from my philosophy class who gave my te...

In class tonight, the question was raised: what TV show most shaped you as a child? I had to think for a moment. Others were saying The Addams Family, My So-Called Life, Sabado Gigante, Leave it to Beaver...Mine was Little House on the Prairie. I started reading books when I was about seven or so and I remember that my grandma would give me a Little House book every birthday. So, I was reading the books and watching the TV show at the same time, a double whammy of calico. I loved Laura Ingalls so much because she was dorky and sweet and had great braids. My hair was boy short, and so I would sometimes walk around with red tights placed on top of my head, believing that I was fooling others into thinking they were my real hair. People probably thought, Oh, that poor little girl with leukemia! I loved her freckles and wished for crooked teeth like hers (that wish came true. Among all that I made, why was that the one that was answered?). I felt for Laura because of her dorkiness and beca...

Missed the first fifteen minutes, but apparently, it' more of the same. Robin is hated by everyone and Shayne is giving her the what-for and telling her not to keep interrupting the other girls during their one-on-one time. Crazy Robin: I'm not here to play fair. I haven't had a lot of close girlfriends. Shayne: When you don't want words to be said about you behind your back, then you have to respect us. Crazy Robin: I don't want people not to like me or like me or not to like Matt though! Shayne: Huh? Now, Robin is crying and laughing at the same time and pretending that she cares that she's hurt people. She won't stop laughing and crying in her faux Gucci sunglasses. Matt's dressed in bright tennis whites--both the shirt and shorts are bright white. Maybe that's why they're all wearing sunglasses. He's giving the rose to Chelsea and I can't figure out who the hell she is. All I know is she is wearing a terrible sweatband around her head...

I promised I would never write about anyone in my life in terms that might be disparaging to him or her. I plan on keeping that promise, except in this case. I just found out via a newsletter from a bar that my ex-boyfriend recently proposed to the girl he dated after me, Miss Burlingcoatfactory . This is the girl who, while we were dating, would just happen to show up at the same bars we were at and would come to our Halloween parties dressed in creative costumes such as a baby and I forget what the other one was...Possibly a cat or a pirate or something else that requires little intelligence. The same girl who told him while we were dating and living together that she was really into him and would love to blow him in the bathroom of Locust Bar after she finished her cigarette. She's fine, there's nothing really wrong with her...I can't blame a girl for crushing on an available guy; not like I haven't done that. But...I wonder if she knows that he and I went to lunch a...

You know what, forget it. I am not raising the cat population in Philadelphia. I give up. The kittens have gone on vacation again, perhaps to the Jersey shore for a brief respite from the free food and water and shelter provided by yours truly. I suppose the mom will return with them in another two days, and I will be relieved and then worried that they'll go away and on and on until the cats are old enough to reproduce and give and take away their offspring with the same illogical frequency.

Went to a happy hour girl party at Celia's last night. She had a punch bowl full of sangria which I resisted. Heard tales of what it's like to be in love with your roomate and how one might try to deal with this from a purely cerebral approach. Then went home and made chocolate chip cookies with oatmeal for my class on Sat. and watched Sex in the City, a show I typically resist. However, this particular episode featured SJP saying goodbye to Mr. Big, who was moving to CA and may or may not have called her before he left. I kind of hated Mr. Big and SJP b/c she kept tilting her head to one side like a terrier. But then Mr. Big put on a record, "Moon River" sung by Henri Mancici and from the soundtrack of Breakast at Tiffany's, and I had to grudingly admit that it was slightly romantic. He held his hand out to her. She took it. They danced in his empty apartment. And I thought, Does this ever happen in real life? How many cinametic moments have I experienced? Not ma...

And in some weird life convergence, I have been reading about five different books and finding that they all seem to share similar ideas. Or maybe it's that I am looking for a particular thing and recognizing the pattern because I want to. For my philosophy class, we're reading this series of pretty surfacey books about philosophy and pop culture. Despite the fact that the writers seem to be targeting their essays to undergraduates (making off-color jokes, relying heavily on oft-quoted lines from TV and movies), a little real philosophy leaks in every once in awhile; brief explanations of Plato's idea of the forms, the different categories of love (eros and philia), and the three stages in development (aesthetic, ethical, and religious? I believe I am stuck permanently in the aesthetic phase; that's the "Kramer" ideology according to Philosophy and Seinfeld; a person who basically just seeks pleasure and distraction). Then I'm also reading this library bo...

I just finished writing on the last page of the journal Jodie gave me for Christmas and so was flipping through to see if there was anything brilliant which I should type up before retiring the journal to my bookshelf. Typically, once the journal has ended, I have a difficult time ever opening it again b/c there is something slightly depressing about looking back in time, knowing in some ways how it will turn out and feeling bad for my former self for not realizing the finale. At the same time, I often write fiction or story ideas and then, if I don't put them down somewhere else, they can evaporate into the nothingness that is my memory. Anyway, I stumbled on a list I made on January 14 of this year; a list of 100 things I want in my ideal partner. I believe when I decided to make this list, I'd read some stupid article in Oprah or one of those magazines proclaiming that you can't always get what you want UNLESS you know exactly what it is you're looking for. This ide...

I've been meaning to write about being invited to a book club recently. A friend from Temple suggested Wonderful Girl to her club and they said yes. And so on Sunday, we took the train to New Jersey and I was greeted by about eight women who really wanted to hear what I had to say about writing the stories. It was a different experience from doing a reading. At a reading, not everyone has read the book (probably most haven't) and they ask general questions about writing. At the book club, the women had specific questions and a lot to say about the stories. One lady said that she found them funny and vivid and really sad. I told her about my aunt reading the book and then immediately calling my mom because she was worried about me. I tried to explain about how writing the stories is cathartic and that I realize that I have a dark streak and do mean things to the characters. They wanted to know if everything I wrote about had happened to me. I said something about how no, not rea...