But Call Me Betsy

Deeyawna must now have sex with all three of the guys to see if really wants to marry one or none of them. On this episode, she will have the chance to go on overnight dates in exotic locales like Grand Beach Island in Missouri. Date one: Jeremy, the Robot. Hugs, hugs, all about the hugs and the picking up of each other. They share dead mom’s and that’s a bond that will last for at least three more dates until she finds out that he actually killed his mom. First, a power boat. Next, jet skis. Hi, don’t kiss each other while on separate jet skis, that’s rule number one. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Whoops. I accidentally fell asleep watching them wiggle their toes in the sand. They just found a hermit crab!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please tell me they aren’t going to drag this show out for two whole hours. Dinner time. Deeyawana wears a large green robe. She’s trying to get him to loosen up, but he can’t. He raises one eyebrow, that’s as much whimsy as he has. He just did it again. STOP. Now he’s confess...

I realized after getting off at the Ellsworth/Federal stop tonight, on my way somewhere else in the rain that I would make a bad POW. Had just been in Center City to celebrate Irina's release from Temple, and so had maybe like three drinks and then realized halfway to the train station that I really should've used the restroom before I left. You know it's bad when you have to ask yourself if it would be horrible if you peed in a side alley in near twilight. Or if you contemplate asking those people smoking on their front step if it would be okay if you used their bathroom. And plus it was hot and I was wearing flip flops that splashed mud and rain up on my back legs. That's when I decided that I would make a horrible prisoner. I would cave at the first sign of discomfort and give up all of the state secrets, sell my mother out, prostrate myself on the ground, perform high kicks if asked, anything, anything, anything, to feel okay again. In other news, I have been asked...

My friend Irina just emailed to let me know that my book is listed in one of the front page articles of the magazine section of today's Philadelphia Inquirer : " The Philly Books, Popping Out in L.A." It's just like a brief, brief blurb but that's still kind of cool.

Sorry to say that I missed The Bachelorette viewing on Monday, at least for the most part. It keeps starting too early. Most nights at 8 o'clock, I've just finished listening to Terry Gross for an hour and have to go lie down to get the sound of her wispy voice out of my ear. And I also wasn't at home and didn't bring my computer with me. But listen, the show was two hours long again. Anyway, I caught the last maybe 30-40 minutes of it. It focused solely on the four hometown dates with Deeyawna visiting the men's family. I briefly saw the Jason date and later heard from Jess and Julie how he's a wonderful dad and how much he loves his son and how they both cried (Jess and Julie, not Jason) when he had to leave the toddler to go back to Hollywood. I didn't see the hometown dates with the other two. I imagine that Jesse's (that's the guy with dippy long bowl cut) family all sat cross-legged on surf boards to pass a joint and then ate cherry pie withou...

Stumbled on this funny video called Hipster Olympics on You Tube. Worth a watch, especially if you've just been to a party in Fishtown the night before swarming with hipsters in all shapes and sizes. Well, no, really only in hipster sizes--thin men in tight girl jeans, thin girls with zig-zag bangs and see-through blouses with beads. Several headbands in sight, including one guy who wore a yellow athletic headband as though he had just stepped off the tennis court circa Wimbledon 1978. Talked for awhile to a tiny girl from India who looked as though she were channeling a Native American--black hair in two thick braids, a shiny shirt/dress, and yes, another headband, though this one was made out of scarves and feathers and things. Met another tall, skinny guy wearing a wristband from a show the night before. He was cute and fey and of indiscriminate sexual preference. I think I offended him by saying I thought this particular artist was exploitive (me parroting Lisa Marie). Actuall...

Having a little trouble getting out of the house this morning though it appears to be a nice day and I have all of these new/old songs on my i-pod so can anticipate a long walk to the same places I always go--Circle Thrift, Rittenhouse Square, the Whole Foods where I expect to be banned at any moment, since I show up to graze the free food at least twice a week (I always buy something, but it's usually inexpensive like an all-natural, non tortured muffin). I could also stay home and clean because my house is a mess. I mean, it's picked up, but it's not clean. So much cat hair blowing around like tumbleweeds plus star-shaped splashes of spilled coffee on the linoleum and various decorative items wearing a layer of dust. If I suddenly inherited a ton of money, I would hire a house cleaner. That would be my dream; someone else who would come in and get this place in ship shape. And also a cook, just a slightly talented chef who could prepare the occasional meal that doesn'...

Here's something a person could do if she worked in West Philly and didn't yet have that many friends to go to lunch with: walk across the street in search of food and company at 30th Street Station. However, be forewarned that you will face a minimum of three homeless people scattered about, mumbling to themselves with nearly dead cigarettes smoldering at their fingertips. That's what I did today for lunch. At the same time, the train station is a beautiful building and if you squint and try not to notice the myriad destitute people sleeping toothless on the wooden benches, you can sort of enjoy it. It's the same building where they filmed Witness, one of my favorite movies, if only because of the scene where Harrison Ford dances in the barn with a Quaker woman played by Kelly McGillis to one of the best songs in the world, "Don't Know Much About History" (or whatever the title is). After work, decided to walk to my next destination, just to see what that...

Many dogs in my life today. On my way to the train, I ran into my favorite dog; this German Shepherd mix who is sometimes tied up outside of his house in the morning. He's sort of spastic and whines, but he lets me pet him and pull tufts of his fur off to release into the breeze. Then met Carrie at Chapterhouse after work to hear about her trip to Paris and there were two more dogs inside; one is a spotted friendly mutt named Jessica who lives there. I surreptitiously fed her bits of my raisin scone while the owner wasn't looking. Then to the bike shop next door to pick up Carrie's ten-speed which needed a new tire and tape for the handlebars. Another dog hangs out there, Fido, the saddest dog in the world, skinny, old, never wags his tail no matter how much you pet him. The bike shop boys are gangly 25 year olds with dark hair hanging in their eyes, blue tattoos up and down their legs and arms; guys with big hands long fingers adept at adjusting things. Back to Carrie'...

Because of the level of professionalism in my office, I find myself often clattering in heels these days like a real grown up. I makes me taller and I'm fine as long as I don't try to walk anywhere. I mostly wheel around the office in my rolling chair. Busy, busy, busy today in a way that I like--time flies when you're writing letters, constructing press releases, editing articles, searching for photographs, and trying to come up with a theme for a new campaign. We like dragons. I may have to soon purchase some dragon paraphernalia, perhaps get a huge Japanese dragon on my back. Went briefly to Borders after work to search for some of the books I discovered in at the writing retreat; books I can't yet afford to buy, but no one can stop me from opening up a new book and smelling its pages, something I seem to be compelled to do. Still lots and lots of chick lit out there. Here's one example: A girl has a great, wonderful, and boring husband. She still pines for Leo, ...

What is this? A new BCS (or whatever channel this is) episode of The Bachelorette Tells Us All Stuff We Already Know! Luckily, I didn’t get home until late (such an industrious worker) and so missed the first half hour. I can’t say that I’ll write much about this particular episode because it’s just stupid recaps and hearing what Deeyawna has to say about the guys and why she sent the robot home and the Chi-town guy and the sweaty dude with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel, etc. Weird to think that last week at this time, I was at Rosemont, watching this with a few of my new bffs. And here I am, back in my life. Had trouble falling asleep last night in part b/c this girl next door kept yelling, then I woke up at 5:30 am. because I was afraid I’d oversleep. We’re getting an illustration of the lives of the six remaining guys. Jesse’s first. He’s a complete idiot. Please, please, please cut your hair and maybe put some powder on your nose and possibly stop wearing those circus tennis s...

D. Enzmann's dad was strange. He had fuzzy, crazy black and white eyebrows like caterpillars above his glasses. D was a late baby and so Mr. Enzmann always seemed more like a grandpa then a dad. He was odd--walked around in his boxer shorts and was absent-minded in a kind of goofy way. Wallis' dad had a moustache. He was a divorced dad, only showed up once a month to take Wallis out and Wallis often didn't want to go with him and so brought me. He took us horseback riding and paid for both of us, out of guilt for remarrying the woman he had an affair with while married to Wallis' mother. He didn't talk much. I never met Diana's dad. She didn't talk about him. She had a weird stepdad who was too friendly to all of us. Nothing happened, at least not to me. Lynn's dad was dead by the time I met; he had a heart attack. They had so much stuff in their house, these women and girls, that it seemed like he had been gone for a long time. My friends Jess and Jodie...

More later...

Am back from the week long writing workshop extravaganza and just now tried to take a short nap, but have grown so accustomed to the twin bed with the thin mattress I slept on at Rosemont, that I was unable to fall asleep without the accompanying sound of the crinkling mattress or the truncated space. What did we learn this week? We learned that writing is still hard, but that you have to go at it again and again, that you have to make it a habit, part of your daily life, or your work will escape you, go into hibernation, causing it to be that much harder to face a blank page (or screen) when you finally do sit yourself down. Met lots of great people; got to work with Elise Juska, who is an excellent writer and critic. She gave us writing and reading exercises every day, pieces that worked in tandem with one another and I realized that you can come at a story from different directions or in what might seem like artificial ways, such as free writing a scene from a story to see if you ca...

I am writing this from a workshop at beautiful Rosemont College. This will be pretty discombobulated because I am only half paying attention and half trying to socialize. First one on one date: Jesse the snowboarder is serenading Deeyawnah by singing a terrible song/poem that rhymes. Do not rhyme. Especially not Deeyawnah with “Pee on Ya” (that line is courtesy of Courtney, one of the workshoppers here. And she’s not even a poetry person!). We missed the first 22 minutes, so who knows what’s going on. Likely not much. Okay, now they’re at dinner. He’s saying he’s not the kind of guy who cheats. He’s eating like he’s never been out to dinner before, with the knife upside down. I’m not that kind of guy who opens up. I want you to know that I’m into you. It’s real. She’ smiles fakely. He says, it’s real for me. She admits that she’s not typically attracted to, uh, people like him (uh, douchebags?). He could at least wash his hair before the date. I can’t understand anything he’s saying be...

I actually ironed a shirt this morning. It's one of my recent H&M purchases, a white button-up with wide cuffs. I am certain that in typical H&M style, it will last approximately 3.5 washings before disintegrating into thin air. but who cares, I needed a white shirt after suddenly realizing that the other white button up I've been wearing makes me look like I'm auditioning for the role of secretary in a Mamet play--too tight and inappropriate for work and looking as though a button might pop off and get you in the eye at any second. After many, many, many episodes of What Not to Wear, I'm finally getting the message that I need to buy clothes that fit, rather than those that make me look like pin-up girl and not in a good way. So, ironing this morning made me remember how my mom used to let me iron my stepdad's handkerchiefs and their pillowcases when I was in elementary/middle school (by the time high school rolled around, I was like, Yeah, no thanks). We...

Hey, this job as a writer requires quite a lot of writing! It makes it difficult to feel motivated to update my blog, and to finish the article I need to write for Maven magazine. Nonetheless, I was thinking the other day about weird moments or characters on TV that freaked me out at an early age. These would be all from shows I saw between the ages of 3-6. I hope this post will never be used by some undergrad under duress searching for an argument against kids watching TV for a rhetorical paper due the next morning at a.m. Anyway: 1. Cookie Monster. I was always scared of the Cookie Monster, in part because he was so out of control (my cousin Charlie was terrified of the Count. You could make him cry by just saying, "V-one, Two, Tree!"). I remember a dream I had when I was really little where the Cookie Monster actually gobbled me up. I remember being swallowed down his black throat. It didn't hurt, and was, in fact, mildly pleasant. Still, I didn't like his goog...

Why is this starting at 8 p.m.? Why are the shows still two hours long? Twelve men left and Chris Harrison continues to looks like he's got an up-coming audition for a made-for-TV version of Kafka's The Hunger Artist. I remain amazed that Graham or whatever his name is can maintain this not quite shaved look. I guess what's happening is that the guys who used to live in the house with Deeyawna have to move out and three new ones get to come in and look at her in her bikini. Wait, maybe not. I missed last week, so I don't get it. She's making them perform like dolphins, throwing them balls that they must jump and try to catch in mid-air on their noses. The other dudes are hanging out at the dude ranch. It's so weird to see guys try to pretend that they like her. The restaurant dude is explaining to the other guys what's happening. "She's in her bikini, right? And she's totally hanging out of it, you see? And she's rubbing lotion on their nose...