Month: September 2007

7.5 Months Later

Say. You there. Do you hear that? The sound of revelry in the distance? True, it is faint, but ever growing. There are hundreds, perhaps thousands of people carousing in the streets. They are banging on trashcans, blowing their car horns, startling women with exuberant and unexpected kisses on the mouth. It’s because they know about today. Today is the day when…

I zipped up my pre-pregnancy jeans.

Though I have been exercising, though I have been eating as though I am a candidate for sainthood, I tried these jeans knowing I would not be able to pull them past my kneecaps. But up they crept. Surely, I thought, these jeans cannot cover my bum. But there they are! Clearly I will never be able to button and zip them again in this lifetime. And then? Snap! Zooop!

I. Am. Wearingmyprepregnancyjeans!

Of course, it’s not possible for me to breathe in them, but that didn’t stop me from tearing into the living room to do an elaborate burlesque for Bryan.

“How do you like that, baby? Uh! You remember these jeans? Oh yeah you do. These jeans have missed you, baby. Can you hear this zipper screaming for mercy? That’s niiiiiiiice. You like this muffin top? It’s all yours. Uh! Awwwwwwww yeaaaaaaah.”

And though I am currently standing as I type this because it is impossible to sit down without inviting a medical emergency, I think we can safely say that I look hot.

Wiccan Potlucks, Literary Basketball

At 826 Valencia’s Creative Non-Fiction writing seminar, Beth Lisick talked about her decision to write her new book Helping Me Help Myself, which is a humorous take on trying to live by various self-help books. Of San Francisco, she said:

“You go to the park and there’s like two Wiccan potlucks — the alternative world. So the mainstream world did seem sort of exotic and interesting to me.”

Stephen Elliot introduced Po Bronson by noting that he meets other writers in a clandestine location for an occasional “big literary basketball game.”

Because most writers I know began writing in part to assuage the pain of always being picked last at kickball, my immediate mental image of “literary basketball” is a tangle of flailing arms and pasty middle-age guys yelling, “I’m open! Dude, Beckett! I’m OPEN!”

Endorsment

Go see Sweeney Todd at the ACT. If you live in the Bay Area, or have plans to visit, you must go. Buy your tickets now please. Spoilers ahead:

Sweeney Todd, of course, is a musical about a serial killer. In this production, the cast doubles as the orchestra. Do you hear me? They found people who could act and sing and play instruments.

You will come away feeling gravely untalented, but you will also want to kiss John Doyle on the mouth. (Is that cool, Mr. Doyle? Do you mind if San Francisco kisses you on the mouth? We like you as more than a friend.)

Anyway, see it! You must see it.

Overheard: Tattoo

Scenario: Girl in her mid-twenties talks to a friend on the street corner.

Girl: …and on my calf I want a heart and a cloud with a rainbow. Then coming out of the cloud, I want like little hearts and stars and lightening bolts. Friend: (Dubious look.) Girl: Like, not hell of um, but a few.

Attention to Detail

The September 2007 issue of Domino has an article about how fashion designer Valentino likes to entertain. He mentions an interesting point of etiquette I’d never thought about before:

“I follow the rule of dividing my time evenly throughout the meal–first course to my right, second course to my left. Far too many young ladies in America get caught up in the media and forget to pay attention to their manners. When seats are assigned, it is for a reason. I expect my guests to show hospitality to their host and table companions throughout the meal.”

Dinner parties aren’t particularly common in our social circle, but I love the idea of hosting a smaller gathering with the intent of introducing people who will enjoy each others’ company.