what would jessica wakefield do?

Somehow Katie and I ended up discussing Sweet Valley High over the hummus basket at Thinking Man on Friday night, and the Wakefield sisters have been haunting me ever since.

Today I decided to Google the twins and see what they've been up to all these years. Wouldn't you know, they're going to re-release the series all over again. Now, the SVH books have had a coat of paint slapped on them a time or two, they've changed up the covers with a new photo or font, but it seems that since 1983, the world has changed radically enough that although the premise of SVH remains timeless - we all want to be twins, backstabbing gets you everwhere, there's nothing like a good catfight, new outfit, case of mistaken identity, beauty pageant, coma, substance abuse issue, etc. etc. - the subtler details, such as technology and fashion can get in the way of a good story. So the publishers have gone in and tweaked things a bit. The car the twins share has been changed from a Fiat Spider to a Jeep. Granted, I had no idea what the fuck a Fiat was when I was 10 years old anyways, I think I had to look it up. I'm sure the kids have cell phones and text instead of passing notes (do they pass notes these days?). Oh, right, and rememberhow Jessica and Elizabeth were a "perfect size six"? Well, now they are a "perfect size four". I realize sizes have changed, I realize the size 14 Marylin Monroe supposedly wore and the one made today aren't the same thing. However, why not, if we're modernizing things, just remove the reference altogether? Save our girls some purging and self loathing, shall we?

Regardless, I did not realize until today how much latent Sweet Valley trivia and storylines I have been carrying around in my brain all of these years. For example, I remembered that Elizabeth's boyfriend was Todd and her best friend's name is Enid (um, yeah, thanks Mom and Dad), who used to have a drinking problem. Jessica numerous boyfriends (i.e., she was kind a loose woman for her age), but mainly chased after the dashing yet dangerous Bruce Patterson, who sometimes had a moustache and sometimes did not. The basic plot device was that there was the "good" twin (usually Elizbeth) and the "bad" twin (usually Jessica). Jessica usually did something impulsive and got herself in over her head, and Elizabeth had to bail her out of some pickle or another. The girls were foils to one another, one twin poised and methodical to a fault, the other spontaneous, but the kind of girl who jumps without thinking about where she's going to land.

I was a voracious consumer of these books as a kid. Some of the sexual undertones of a few of the books were a little beyond me, and there was one book in particular called Playing with Fire where Bruce totally went to second base with Jessica that totally was more action than I had ever read, seen, or would experience for a good five years. But I had my collection lined up on my pink wooden bookshelf in my bedroom. I have this mental picture of my bedroom when I was eleven, beige pile carpet, and the lavender paint I picked out to match my peach and purple bedspread. I had the same bedspread as Kelly Kapowski on Saved by the Bell and I was very proud of that. No one was getting to second base on that bedspread.

Every time we went to the bookstore I went straight for the young adult section to see if there was a new volume of Sweet Valley High (or Sweet Valley Twins, or The Baby Sitters Club, whatever, I had to get my fix, y'all). I must have had at least a hundred, maybe more. Amanda stopped me today from ordering about ten of my favorites from Amazon. "Three," she said, "you're allowed to buy three at a time." I appreciate her stopping me from excessively purchasing books from my childhood.

Katie asked me today if I thought I was more of an Elizabeth or a Jessica. She thinks she is a mixture of both. I would agree. I think I am probably more of an Elizabeth, a planner, methodical, you know how I like to color code things on my calendar. I think I could stand to be a little more impulsive, a little less look, a little more leap. Perhaps I could learn some lessons from Sweet Valley.

Read The Dairi Burger, a blog by someone who knows way more about Sweet Valley than me.

overheard at the roller derby

"You're going to want to wear something under that so you don't get fish net burn."

I truly overheard this, and many other fascinating asides, at the opening "free skate " for the recruiting season for the Atlanta Rollergirls. I went to my first bout two weeks ago, and even though I clearly do not have the requisite number of visible tattoos for this sport, I'm going to give it a go. I had secretly been stalking the try out dates on their website, so when my friend Laura, who has been doing derby for four years, nudged me a little bit in the direction of the free skate, I was there.

When Laura and I arrived at the Stone Mountain skating rink at 9:00 am on a Saturday morning, the only people who were there were a bunch of little kids learning to jam skate, which is like dancing to R&B music on skates. (P.S. This looks amazing when they do it, sort of like moon walking, but I have no idea how it is humanly possible.) Mariah Carey's sweet vocals were lingering in the air, and Laura started unpacking her gear. Helmets, elbow pads, wrist guards, knee pads. The one thing we did not have to use that day was a mouth guard. I laced up my skates and filled out my waiver and sent one up to JC. "Hey, there, God, I know you have better things to do, but could you protect my legs, skull, and ankles, and maybe could ya let me not be the worst skater out there so I don't look like an asshole? Thanks. Love you!"

What I learned first was that derby girls refer to one another by their derby names almost exclusively. Laura's derby name is Machu Beatchu, and I was introduced to some other lovely ladies that day - Sissy Splayseck, Hot Legs, Slam Adams, Demi Gore, Wheelin' Jennings, Spazz Attaque, Pretty Vicious, etc., etc. I am fascinated by these derby names. I have to say, there are a lot of things that excite me about the derby - the athletecism, the theatrics, the competition, the tongue-in-cheek humor of it all, the costumes (of course, hello?!? you get to skate in a skirt), but the names, and maybe this is the writer in me, particularly intrigue me. Admittedly, I have since been reading the international roster of all registered rollergirls. I have been brainstorming my own names. No, I will not share them openly. Yes, some of them are terrible. And some of them are quite clever.

I did not end up being the biggest asshole on the rink. There was, sadly, one girl who was clearly the biggest asshole on the rink, but all the girls were very sweet to her and helped her out the whole time. I am pleased to report that I didn't break any bones. I realize it had been probably fifteen years since I laced up skates. We played Duck Duck Goose and Limbo, I only fell once or twice, and I wasn't embarrassed to admit that I couldn't make myself stop. I was relieved that there was no slamming, blocking, pushing, or forced falling on this first encounter, although I am sort of looking forward to all of that. What I love about all of this is that derby seems to me to be a place where girls can be girls, but also be pretty bad ass at the same time.

poised like a soldier, calling for more

When I first moved to Atlanta, I met my friend Diana at a party that was mainly attended by French dudes. It was weird, but being as I was raised in the South, Diana was basically the first Sicilian girl I had ever met outside of my family. I told her as much, and she looked at me like I just told her I had never eaten pizza or learned to ride a bike. D is an Italian from New York City, so this was a totally foreign concept to her. She has cousins whose last name is actually "Guido".

Diana introduced me to Eddie's Attic and the free Sunday night concerts at the Park Tavern, where I started listening to Kitty Snyder. Her songs became the soundtrack to my first few years on my own in Atlanta. I wore out "Trips to the Oddities", and I was devastated when she announced that she wasn't going to play shows any more, that she was taking a break indefinetly to write a novel. I told Kitty once at my birthday party at a tiki bar, after I had a very large, very potent drink called a Scorpion Bowl, that she was my girl crush. She gracefully laughed it off.

A few weeks ago, I saw Kitty play again, and I bought her CD again for like the 4th time. I wore one out, and the other two I gave away. This one is mine. It hasn't left my car. This blog title is lovingly lifted from her lyrics.

I am a glutton for punishment. I consistently seek out men who cannot or will not be available or present in my life, and then I want them even more. I have no idea why I do this. It is so deeply painful, the cyclical rejection, coming to that place again where your head tells you it is completely because he isn't what you need, but your heart tells you that you aren't what anyone wants. My mom tells me I have daddy issues. It's such a cliche. I reject that concept. But maybe I do. I love my father, he is, deep down, a good man, he doesn't mean harm. But he is incredibly narcissistic, self-centered, and has let me down when I needed him most. Maybe I seek out men who subconsciously I know will do the same thing. Maybe its all I know how to handle.

"Poised like a soldier...calling for more..."

I do want more.

I wanted more from him. He promised me that he wouldn't be like everyone else, that he would protect my fragile heart. I guess it was too much. I thought maybe he needed space, that I was crowding him, that I pushed to hard too fast, too soon, that I asked too much. I backed up, he stepped forward, then back, then forward, reached out, it was almost a dance again. Now I don't believe he hears the music, that its just me.

So, dear one, I think you have missed something. "I know I could be good for you. And I know I'm afraid of escaping you..."

I have erased my means of reaching out to you, I will not try to reach out. And so ends my dance. I don't know how to stop wanting.

spring cleaning and why i'm a monica

I have had a mad urge to clean things around the house. I think it might be because I have so many things in my life right now that I can't control, and cleaning and organizing gives me an instant feeling of accomplishment. There is also that feeling of getting rid of things, like washing that man, or whomever, whatever, out of your hair. And it makes things prettier, too. This weekend I don't know what came over me. Usually when I clean, I do one thing, like dust and vacuum, and then I sit around. But I was like a machine, no rest for the weary. I hung pictures in the living room and cleaned, I scrubbed the deck and the front porch, I planted flowers, I cleaned my bedroom and bathroom, I did laundry, and I painted our gardening stand. I feel very accomplished, but a little...like Monica from friends? Will I start labeling our kitchen shelves? I will admit, I sort of wanted to. Currently, my bathroom is in a state of disarray due to the unfortate collapse of my ceiling last week after my upstairs neighbors cleaned their porch. This resulted in the buckets of water they used coming in through my ceiling, which was very exciting. We've had lots of water excitement in our house, from pipes bursting under the kitchen sink, to water streaming down the walls above the laundry closet, and now the bathroom. Our maintenance man ripped down my ceiling and is replacing it now. My next project will be painting the kitchen cabinets white, and painting the bathroom after he's done replacing the ceiling, but I haven't decided what colors. I kinds of like these pictures...

watch out, you might get what you're after

"Here's your ticket pack your bag
Time for jumpin overboard
The transportation is here
Close enough but not too far
Maybe you know where you are
Fightin fire with fire

All wet
Hey you might need a raincoat
Shake down
Dreams walking in broad daylight
Three hun-dred six-ty five de-grees

Burning down the house"

-Talking Heads

oh i do not understand you

Really, truly...I don't understand you. You know who you are. Yes, I realize you do not read this blog.

101 things you should know about me

1. Wonder Woman is my hero. Has been since I was 3.
2. I don't believe in soul mates.
3. I do believe in ghosts.
4. I've always driven a Honda.
5. I have the entire 1988 season of Pee-Wee's Playhouse on VHS.
6. If I could be anyone other than myself, it would be Mary J. Blige.
7. I hate everything in my closet at most any given moment.
8. I think I am physically addicted to Diet Coke.
9. My last name is not Japanese.
10. I lack the ability to interpret lesbian subtext. I always think they're just really friendly.
11. Britney Spears is misunderstood.
12. Angelina Jolie gives me the creeps.
13. I'm pretty sure I can't stop biting my nails.
14. I grew up in a town of 7,000 people.
15. I think the Chi hair iron is one of God's greatest gifts to humankind.
16. I like really, really bad TV.
17. I wear a lot of really pointy-toed shoes.
18. As a decendant of recent immigrants, I am ethnically obligated to cook in mass quantities.
19. I have a fear of wolves.
20. I truly believe I am destined for great things.
21. I really enjoy lip gloss.
22. I am a former middle-school drama teacher.
23. I thought Nick and Jessica would last.
24. I was born on February 15, 1979.
25. If I were a boy, I would have been named Joseph Onofrio Noto (Joe Ono for short).
26. I prefer the log cabin method of campfire building.
27. I generally misunderstand song lyrics.
28. I once had a turtle named Pippipotamus.
29. I get a whole lot of nothing out of my current job.
30. I'm a vodka soda girl.
31. I obsessively pluck my eyebrows.
32. I think a good haircut is great therapy.
33. I used to scare my little brother by playing dead.
34. Jesus is my homeboy.
35. I have horrible eyesight. If there were no corrective lenses, I'd be the village idiot.
36. I only have one sibling.
37. I feel sorry for only children.
38. I've been told I make funny faces when I dance.
39. I'm still not sure what I want to be when I grow up.
40. I love going to movies alone.
41. I am an Aquarius.
42. I love office supplies.
43. I can quote all of Steel Magnolias and most of the first season of the Real World. I'm not really bragging about either of these facts.
44. I like boys in hats.
45. I usually don't want to drive.
46. I have a lot of junk in my trunk. Literally. Figuratively.
47. I'm not very competetive.
48. I have never been in a phsyical fight. I did slap a girl once, in elementary school, but she didn't fight back, and that was that.
49. I love to go to the gym, but I'm not very buff.
50. I am a firm believer in the seasonal rules of fashion. White, linen, open toed shoes, tweed . . . they've all got their appropriate time and place.
51. Musicians, artists, and unavailable men are magnets to me.
52. I don't mind bugs.
53. DJ's and no alcohol don't make for a good party.
54. I usually want to shake it.
55. I used to fantasize as a child that the B-52's would take me on tour.
56. I sing well, but rarely in front of people anymore.
57. I'm a theater nerd, but it took me a long time to come to terms with that.
58. All my childhood boyfriends were gay. I should have known when Mark, my boyfriend from drama camp, knew all the choreography to Vogue.
59. I worked part time in food service from age 15 to 26. That's more than ten years. Scary.
60. I secretly wish to be a photographer.
61. I'm a pretty good painter.
62. I wanted to be Angela Chase in high school.
63. I get sick pleasure out of color coding things on my calendar.
64. I love summer camp.
65. I think you should always ask yourself, "What would Little Kim do?"
66. I cannot stand house or techno music. I won't dance to anything that requires a glow stick.
67. I used to want to be a minister.
68. I love to read girly magazines.
69. I know just enough Spanish to ask questions I can't understand the answers to.
70. I make a lot of lists.
71. I rarely cook for myself, but I love to cook for other people.
72. I used to wish I had a job where I had to wear a suit every day. Now I wish I had a job where I could relax and be myself every day.
73. I am a believer in the zen of Target.
74. I have a fear of being alone. I have a fear of being too attached to people.
75. Grilled cheese is a nearly perfect food.
76. I probably shouldn't be allowed to take shots.
77. I think everyone gets it wrong from time to time.
78. I believe in forgiveness.
79. I used to be afraid that Jaws was in the deep end of the pool.
80. I tan very easily.
81. I dye my own hair and my hair stylist gets very upset about that.
82. I believe in the power of a comeback.
83. I feel guilty that I do not like raw tomatos because they are such an aesthetically pleasing fruit.
84. I have chewed an entire pack of Big Red gum all at once and it was exhilerating.
85. I am kind of Jewish. I kind of wish I were more Jewish.
86. I'm not opposed to freezing an egg.
87. I really love to harmonize.
88. I am a member of the fictitious band Surprised by Harmony, formerly known as Extreme Harmony Makeover. I play the triangle. Our debut show was all-nude.
89. Some days I just want to cry a lot.
90. I hate it when people get married and lose their minds.
91. I was baptized three times.
92. I test well.
93. If you don't get sarcasm, then we just shouldn't hang.
94. I believe brunch to be the best meal of the day.
95. I love everything about cruises.
96. I think I might be a misplaced New Yorker. I think a real New Yorker might scoff at that suggestion.
97. I do not believe in absolute anything.
98. I'd take funny over hot any day of the week.
99. I consider turquoise to be a neutral color.
100. I really just want to be fabulous.
101. I doubt that I can be accurately described in 100 brief statements.

i dreamed of you

I had a dream about you last night. It was the kind of dream where you are convinced it is real for hours until something in reality brings everything into focus. You called me and said, "Good morning, baby. I love you." And you didn't realize that you said it, it just came out of your mouth. I didn't want to mention it, because I was afraid you would take it back. And then we talked about something else entirely. It was laundry, or birds chirping, or turkey bacon frying this morning that made me realize it never happened.

the lost art of the mix tape

My friend Leah and I were discussing today how kids these days do not appreciate their newfangled music technology. Back in my day, we used to have to fast forward through a tape to get to the next song, or just listen to the whole album. I remember actually having to go to a music store to buy music.

My first casette tape was Def Leopard "Hysteria". I went in on it halvsies with my friend Marissa, because we couldn't afford the $7.99 or so that it cost on our own. Her brother convinced us that we were going to go to jail for copywright infrigement for making a copy of the tape. I loved to go to the music store and scan through stacks of cassette tapes, using my allowance to buy new cassette singles. A single was around a dollar, and I frequently bought two at the same time. Once I purchased Guns N Roses "November Rain" and R.E.M. "Shiny Happy People". Another combination was both the theme song to Robin Hood, Prince of Theives by Bryan Adams ("Everything I Do, I Do It For You") and "I Touch Myself" by The Divinyls. I think I was probably in the sixth grade and I had no idea what touching myself was at all. It was a good song, though.

But what has been lost is the art of the mix tape. A mix tape used to take hours to create, choosing the songs, stopping and starting the tapes, and you had to have a "jam box" that had the double cassette holders. Creating a mix tape for someone was a sign of true affection. There were no playlists, no dragging and dropping song titles. It was a labor of love. Still, a CD created for someone these days is a very personal expression.

I made a playlist for Cute Tony for Valentine's Day and couldn't bring myself to give it to him, it just felt too exposing. The chocolates had to suffice. A song is a personal thing, even if you didn't write it.

sophia loren

I think I might want to do a portrait of Sophia Loren...

more house stuff

I'm kind of overwhelmed by the fact that my living room is yellow now, but I'm still glad I did it. The room is much more open and warm and bright. It was a total cave before. And now I need to commit to hanging some artwork, and I'm ready to move on to other projects around the house. The kitchen is totally next on my list.
The living room is yellow and white with touches of turquoise. I like the cleanness of the turquoise above.

The kitchen, like I said is next. And I'm thinking of green, but not too green. I kind of like this pistachio color. And that table is the Ikea table I've been eyeing forever, although I'm kind of hesitant to get rid of my table that sits six. Not that I've had dinner for six there. Everyone always eats in the living room around the coffee table.

I've pondered turning the "dining room" table, which is in the entryway, into a desk like this. It's rarely used as an eating table. Maybe it would be more useful this way?

I like these paintings, maybe for behind my loveseat....I could recreate them....

cinco de mayo

It is Cinco de Mayo and I had my obligatory margarita at lunch...and then wanted to sleep at my desk the rest of the day. Maybe because I was a little bit drunk.

gail foster

I went to Serenbe this weekend to visit with my new friend Gail Foster and her husband Tom Swanston. Gail is amazing, her art is amazing. I had such a nice afternoon at the May Day celebration. Serenbe is a planned eco-community south of Atlanta. Who knew there was something like that so close to our dirty commuter city? It was like being in another world.

tank is on "e"

It is Friday, and although I hate using the term TGIF, seriously....TGIF. It has not been my favorite week of all time and I am so glad to have a couple of days away from my office. And I am promising myself that next week will be a better week at work. How I am going to accomplish that, I am not yet sure. But I will do my best. I think I might need some time to meditate on that one.

I have a lot planned for the weekend, which both excites me and makes me a little nervous. I tend to plan too much sometimes, and then don't want to do any of it. The first thing on my list, the thing that I absolutely have to accomplish, is painting my living room. I have about half of the trim painted and it looks like a construction zone right now. So that is tonight's project, and I actually am really looking forward to it. Tomorrow hopefully I will get a chance to spend some time with the girl that I am mentoring at church, and then at night I'm going to see my friends play a show at Eddie's Attic, despite the fact that I'm not loving Eddie's Attic right now. The new food sucks and the drinks and tickets are overpriced. But I love my friends and the music they play, so I will be there and will be happy to be there. Sunday is church, then a May Day festival at an arts community south of the city. And then, if I have the energy, an early Cinco de May party in Midtown. It all sounds like fun, so I hope I can do it all and be happy doing it. I'm really running on empty these days.

miss pat

I met Liz Mikel in New Orleans after she performed the monologue "Hey, Miss Pat" at V to the 10th. The monologue was originally for Oprah, but Oprah got sick, so Liz had to take it. Clearly, it was meant for her. I met a lot of people that night, but she was so engaging and clearly someone with such inner strength.

I met her after the performance, late at night, in the lobby of the W hotel in New Orleans, and I got a chance to talk to her outside on the patio. We talked about not knowing how we got somewhere, how we couldn't believe that life had brought us there, to that moment. We talked about there being "no accidents". She was telling me how she was having some success in her carreer, but still struggling so hard, and having this amazing moment all in the midst of that. I don't know Liz at all, other than watching her peform, and having a few moments with her late that night, but she has a huge voice inside of her, a huge talent. There is no doubt that she will be heard. She's amazing.


And Miss Pat...she is the woman who inspired the monologue. "Hey, Miss Pat, whatcha got cookin'?" She is cooking shrimp and grits, love and revolution.

You can watch Liz's performance here:
http://v10.vday.org/anniversary-events/video/heymisspat