… Come Sit By Us June 15, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Being Southern, Cooking, Friends, Men, Random Musings on Life, Women.11 comments
Just back from one of those great post-work-week dinners with my girlfriends that are a perfect end to any week. Beers on an outside patio that most patrons eschewed because of the heat that’s gone from ridiculous to downright oppressive this week. Our fellow diners, it seemed, forgot that the sky had been threatening to open up with rain for most of the day and this, coupled with a slight breeze, made it borderline pleasant outside – in the shade, of course. Not that we minded having the patio almost to ourselves.
Together Southern Belle, Church Group Girl and I are a fury of stories punctuated with jerky hand motions and long, winding tangents, each one more hilarious than the last. Somehow talk of cooking leads to talk of lasagna, leads to talk of The Sopranos Finale, and seriously, how livid was I after spending an hour and a half in my hotter than hell kitchen making lasagna from scratch – Scratch! – only to have the whole thing cut to black while Journey played? And, did I tell you that I used The Barefoot Contessa’s tip and soaked my noodles in hot hot tap water instead of boiling them and they were delish. And, yes, all of her recipes start with two sticks of butter, which is okay because Paula Deen’s all start with four sticks. And lately I haven’t want to cook anyway, because can we go back to the soul-draining heat that leaves you sweaty walking from office to parking spot and zaps your will to do anything but collapse partially disrobed on your bed underneath your ceiling fan and stay very still, so to not exert any energy?
Ahem.
Not surprisingly, we gossiped about men. Because if these dinners had an agenda, “Men” would be a standing item.
“I met this nice guy last night. Friend of [The Banker’s friend]. We talked for awhile and I thought we had a nice time. He’s a Wine Distributor, so you know I just wanted to marry him right then and there. But of course he didn’t ask for my number,” I grumbled.
I did not tell them about mentally preparing myself to give him my business card, but chickening out at the last minute. I’d already shared that gem with Married Friend and The Banker over a morning coffee-and-e-mail session. (At least I’m imagining that they were drinking coffee, because it WAS 8 a.m., but I wasn’t actually there to witness the coffee firsthand.) And, well, I figure that disclosing such a fact to one group of girlfriends negates the requirement to tell another group – this is in subsection four of the “Sins of Omission: Honesty is Not Always the Best Policy” part of the Girl Bylaws, right before the “Sins of Commission: Seriously, You Kissed Him?” part.
“You and the boys who flirt but don’t ask for your number!” Church Group Girl exclaimed, with no other point than that.
Later, same topic, she dropped this gem: “I don’t want a boyfriend. I just want to eat,” noting that its time to pull herself back to working out and not eating whatever it is that she wants to eat.
“God bless the empire waist,” said Southern Belle, who weighs maybe a buck ten soaking wet and has no belly to hide. Although, yes, I do agree at times.
From men to tragic girlfriends who dress poorly, they were telling me about a woman they know who, at age forty, wears tiny T-shirts boasting rhinestoned slogans like, “Spoiled.” Which, of course, I could not believe, until they told me that she also had one that said “You Can’t Afford Me.” This nearly sent me into a fit of disbelief, which was topped only when Southern Belle described one of the woman’s unfortunate cocktail party shoe choices – Red Patent Pleather Knee-High Boots.
“They didn’t even have a pointed toe!” Southern Belle exclaimed.
“I love that the squared toe is what offended you most about that really terrible-sounding outfit,” I said.
“Well, pointed-toe shoes DO elongate your legs,” she said.
Closer to Finally Being the Last Unmarried Woman I Know June 12, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Advice People Give Me, Dating, Friends, Random Musings on Life, Single Girl Cliches, Tales of Online Dating, Weddings.27 comments
It feels somewhat meaningful now that I was reflecting on my First Roommate Ever just a few days ago. Her strong personality and independent streak. Her silver Volvo, which carried us to many high school activities, both officially sanctioned and otherwise. How she kept our Southern Comfort under her bed when we were in high school and doing tequila shots in her bedroom before we left for prom. That bathroom also was the first place I ever dyed my hair bright red. So many fond memories, full of the little life lessons I learned from her – because, really I’m not friends with people who can’t teach me things and bring me some sort of happiness.
So, yes, it seems almost fateful that after my evening of memories on Sunday, today she told me she is engaged to her boyfriend and planning a small wedding in the California wine country very, very soon. Because there’s nothing better than really missing someone and then finding out that you have a fantastic (albeit expensive) chance to see them soon and wear a pretty dress and toast to their happiness and eat yummy cake and tell stories about Back In The Day when She was just a rebel with an untucked uniform blouse and penchant for skipping gym to go see the “Guidance Counselor.” (Actual visits to said office? Zero. Successfully pretending to be an emotional teenager to get out of archery and softball is just one of the many perks of oversensitive teachers at an all-girls high school.)
She joked that she was hopping on the Wedding Bandwagon like everyone else. And some mild self-deprecation for my sake and an offer to hook me up with a Friend of the Groom at the vineyard wedding, since it seems like something’s in the water – just not in the water I’ve been drinking, apparently.
Best Friend Ever. First College Roommate. Little Brother. All getting hitched, with Southern Belle (owns house with boyfriend, has looked at rings) and College Roommate (lives with boyfriend, has discussed marriage and rings) following close behind.
College Roommate sent me kind words to soothe my heart – pointing out that I was her best friend and she didn’t make friends “with just anyone.” And Best Friend Ever called to tell me that another of her good friends has found success with eHarmony – “We’ve got to get you on that site!” she announced, excitedly to me.
“You have to fill out a 40-question survey and then it is all seems very much like it is all about looking only for a husband and not just a date,” I said.
“I know. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“I tried Match.com and we all know how that ended,” I said. “Plus, all of these weddings! I can’t keep making financial investments in my dating life because all of you keep getting married!”
The good news with all of these permanent pairings, of course, is that if I ever find myself without a job, I am qualified to be a professional Wedding Guest. I am familiar with the proper etiquette, am proficient at the Chicken Dance and can navigate a registry with ease.
Also, I can be counted on to not accidentally catch the bouquet you’re trying to toss directly to your unmarried best friend so that her noncommittal boyfriend will finally get the picture and pop the question. Because trust me when I say that after I am forcefully separated from my drink and taken to the dance floor – I’ve once had my name called out on the microphone by a bride because I was hiding from her Flying Flowers of Future Marriage — for this slightly humiliating ritual, I will dive so far, far away from that ribbon-tied bundle of pale-colored tea roses that I might take out a groomsman or your grandma.
There are songs about all of them, Part 4 June 10, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Backstory, Friends, Random Musings on Life, There are songs about all of them.22 comments
Note: I like writing these, so I’m going to try to do it more often. You can find them all here, in their own little category.
I am in a silver Volvo with windows open, careening down the street like I’m in a hurry. We have so many places to go, because we are 17 18 and if there is anything anyone wants to do at 17 18, it is get where they are going faster, sooner, yesterday. It is 1998.
My good friend, First Roommate Ever, is driving. She is beautiful, one of the most naturally beautiful people I’ve ever met, with a mess of God-given spiral curls that she hated, tan skin and a slender frame. She is excitable, loud and independent. The only person I’ve ever met who had to get an ID card before she was eligible for her learner’s permit at 15, because she needed an ID because she had her own checking account, which she balanced in Quicken. She dated older men, she kept her own schedule. While my parents were obsessing over things like curfews and trying to explain why I wasn’t allowed to just leave for school on Friday and not come home until Sunday, she came and went as she pleased and kept herself organized with a meticulous color-coded day planner of her class assignments, club meetings, part-time job and doctor’s appointments. On the outside, she was the most organized person you’d ever meet. When you looked past her high lighters and post-it notes, she was the freest person I’ve ever known.
I was too concerned with not breaking the rules, because the rules were there for a reason and other people, who were wiser than I was, made those rules to protect me. First Roommate Ever taught me that it was okay to decide for yourself, to question why, pray tell, rules were so important. To play by their rules, to wear your skirt a certain length and to use a certain kind of notebook, while acknowledging how silly such little rules were.
And on that afternoon in 1998, which could be any afternoon on 1998, really, as we flew away from school in our white oxfords and plaid shorts (or skirts if we had Mass that day), we would listen to “Closer to Fine” by the Indigo Girls and curse about the things that really bother high school seniors with charmed lives – getting detention for being late to History class, how that one girl in that one class should really get her highlights less blonde, because they look ridiculous about how it was stupid that we had so many rules and requirements.
Because at 17 18, after spending almost four years prostrate to the Higher Mind, who happened to be a nun, we were about to get our papers and be free, from uniforms and nuns and snotty girls in the cafeteria and parents and all of the really bad things that we thought were so oppressive.
Each time I hear that song, a little piece of me slips back into that Volvo, which we called The Tank, because we said that if First Roommate Ever was in a wreck, she would win since that model of Volvo was practically indestructible. I wanted to catch some of what I saw as her overabundant confidence – it was really her desire to skip right to being 25. She didn’t know it yet, but she was just a few years from caging herself and her carefree nature in the name of being an adult. And to her credit, she snapped out of wanting to be too grown up just in time and now she lives a lovely life full of travel out in California. And this isn’t because she never tripped along the way, but because she knows how to get up and dust herself off. She simply isn’t afraid to fall. Or if she is, she never lets on.
We don’t see each other as much as we should, though we do exchange sarcastic e-mails about how, as bridesmaids in Best Friend Ever’s wedding, we’ve already given a run down on the length of hem, the color of shoe, the tone of nail polish and the cost of our updone hair.
But sitting here, right now, with my latte and my iPod, listening to the Indigo Girls, I realize that I never gave her a proper thank you for showing me that it is only a life. After all.
Professionalism is the key to attracting decent suitors June 7, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Advice People Give Me, Dating, E-mail goodness, Friends, Men, Single Girl Cliches.53 comments
The other day I was trading e-mails with College Roommate, she who has a lovely relationship with her wonderful boyfriend and is parlaying this into a job as one of my main counselors on issues of the opposite sex. As always, she was trying to convince me to be bold and pick up the phone myself and I was whining, which is one of my favorite things to do, really, next to sleeping and drinking wine.
She was persistent.
“It’s like going on a job interview,” she wrote. “Once it is over, you need to follow up and thank him for his time and tell him how much you enjoyed meeting with him.”
And you know, because I am me, my only option was to write a sample of such a note.
Dear Sir –
Thank you for your time several Saturdays ago. I enjoyed speaking with you about your life and how my skills and experience would fit with your unmet relationship needs. Your bold vision for the future, coupled with your very cute smile and height, makes you exactly the kind of man to whom I’d like to offer my services.
I am sure that I would exceed your expectations if given the chance to assume the position of Girlfriend. I understand that there is a trial period that will range from several dates to many months, depending on a combination of said skills and the other candidates for the position. During this period, I will be acting as a freelancer, keeping my options open to explore Boyfriend alternatives to ensure that you provide me with the greatest balance of comfort versus excitement. Once this training period is over and we have mutually determined our compatibility, I expect full benefits and an investment on your part in my future happiness.
Should you have any further questions about my qualifications or need references about my vast talents in Girlfriend-related areas, including, but not limited to, cooking, kissing, being supportive, making you feel like a Man when you’re really acting like a Two Year Old Boy, back-rubbing, laughing at your lame jokes, listening and displaying an above-average knowledge of beer and a basic knowledge of many sports terms, such as “getting to home base” and “scoring,” feel free to contact me by e-mail, cell, text message, Blackberry, instant message, Morse Code, messenger pigeon, weather balloon or smoke signal.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Many thanks,
[Charming]
My friends, they just love giving me advice.
A Bit of Babble with Meg Cabot June 5, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Blog, Contests! Contests! Contests!, Publicists Send Me Things.4 comments
Last week Charming, but Single readers posted questions for Meg Cabot, whose writing creddits include “Queen of Babble” and “The Princess Diaries.” As an added bonus, one reader was selected to receive a copy of “Queen of Babble” for her question. Our winner is Laura, who asked the first question below and will be getting an e-mail from me to make arrangements for her book. (And can I say that I cracked up laughing when I read Meg’s answer? Because I did.)
I wanted to say thanks to Meg Cabot for taking some time out of her busy fabulous author life to answer a few questions. You can read Meg’s blog here and purchase “Queen of Babble” here.
I also wanted to thank Neil from Citizen of the Month who helped pick the winner even though he is having a really rough go at things right now. Neil’s a great guy and a very community-focused blogger and I’d love it if you’d send some prayers and kind thoughts to him and Sophia.
Meg’s answers are below. Thanks to everyone who participated in the first Charming, but Single contest. I’m hoping it won’t be the last. Cheers!
Many times writers base some of their characters on people they know in real life. Do you find yourself doing that and has anyone ever recognized themselves in your writing and gotten upset over their portrayal?
I do sometimes model my characters on people I know or have known, but I practice the “small penis rule” — giving the character one trait that is so undesirable no one in their right mind would ever be willing to take me to court and say to a judge, “Your honor, that character, the one described as having the face like a pug/hideous bad breath/insufferable egocentricism, … that’s me.” It seems to have worked so far!
Do people ever ask you when you’re going to start writing “serious” literature? If so, what’s your answer? (I’m looking for tips on how to respond to my pretentious literary friends, one of whom once said to me: “Oh! I didn’t know you wrote *those* kinds of stories”!).
I’ve noticed there’s been a lot less of this since I’ve had two movies and a television series made based on my work — which is actually kind of sad. But it still happens occasionally, so when it does, I just toss off tidbits about my print runs. Like, I’ll guess what the literary author’s print run is (usually 5,000), and go, “Yeah, I mentioned to my editor that I was going to do a literary novel about a male ballerina set during the Spanish civil war, but she told me the standard print run for that kind of thing is only five thousand books –can you imagine? — and I’m currently at two hundred thousand, so I thought I’d just stick to what I’m doing. It seems to be working.”
I’ve been in this business a long time.
What is your writing process? Where do you write, what times of day do you prefer, do you have a ritual you go through, do you have a goal each day-a certain number of words, perhaps? Once you have your idea firmly in mind, how do you physically get it down?
Well, I usually don’t start writing something until I’ve mulled it over in my head for about a year (obviously while I’m doing this I’m writing other things. I back burner the other stories I’m planning). Occasionally I’ll jot down a detail or two, but I’m paranoid about the outlining process — writing down anything before the actual novel itself — notecards, etc — doesn’t work for me. Once I feel like I’ve got a solid idea for the opening scene, a firm ending, and a semi-planned out path for how I’m going to get there, I’ll grab my laptop and work on it from about 10 to 5 every day-if possible — until it’s done. I used to work in bed, but cat allergies have driven me out of doors to the back porch. Some day I work on one of those chair floats in the pool with an AlphaSmart … I love those, because you can’t edit as you go along. That’s usually when I get the bulk of my first draft done.
So, you’ve written a book with Princess in the title, and now with Queen in another title- are you trying to tell us something about how we should see ourselves? If so, what is it, please?
Ha! Yeah, I’m all about self-empowerment. I have a witch book for teens coming out this summer, too –JINX - that explores this theme as well. Especially when so many so-called celebrity female role-models are saying they aren’t feminists and the idea of feminism seems to be confusing to so many women, I think it’s crucial that women have strong positive role models to look to who aren’t what they may consider the stereotypical feminist prototype - you know, hairy legs, no makeup, etc — but who very much ARE feminists. My princesses and queens - and my witch -are just that.
Many young adult ‘chick lit’ tales chronicle a heroine’s crazy antics - often flirting with minor disasters of the social/dating variety. Do you think that this is meant to give young women readers a hope that their lives, no matter how scattered, might ‘all work out’ like their fictional counterparts? Is this a means of placating hypersensitive teens, and might that demographic be better served by tales of young women having more focus, setting more definite goals, and achieving them through conscious will, rather than ‘plucky luck’?
Well, I can only speak for myself and the kind of books I write – and choose to read. There are certainly lots of books featuring heroines like the ones you describe, and they sell very well. I don’t choose to write about those kind of heroines because I can’t relate to them. That’s not the kind of life I led, and not the kind of life I would choose to read about, because that kind of life bores me. Choosing the road less traveled is what’s given me so much material to write about!
That said, judging from my mail, I think what you describe — focused girls setting definite goals — is the kind of life the vast majority of my readers lead, and probably why they like reading my books - because my heroines’ lives are so different than theirs, and they can “safely” experience that kind of life through my books. Which sucks, because lot of them really NEED to let themselves have more disasters in their lives! Because there’s lots of awesome stuff out in the real world … but to find it, you have to let yourself have some disasters!
