Monthly Archives: September 2009

A fairytale fit for a baby

Posted by Elizabeth in Addiction to, Good Stuff, Rejoicing

Dear Future Ward of the State,

Don’t get all judgy right away, kid, your mom told me to call you that – (“please refer to my unborn child as I do, as “Future Ward of the State”) – see? Anyway, I’d like to tell you a little story.

Once upon a time, there were two lovely girls named . . . Margaret and Erin. And they were the best of friends who did most everything together, things like smoking cigarettes (which they so don’t do anymore) and drinking PBR top shelf beer, and writing papers together until the wee hours of the morning. They would talk and talk, and plan their political futures together and occasionally they would sober up and show up to class. One day Erin became very important and she was in charge of Margaret’s living quarters. And she tried  very hard to make sure that Margaret followed all the rules, except she couldn’t. And Margaret broke her ankle on her 21st birthday, and Erin laughed and didn’t call the cops. They were best friends.

One day Margaret called Erin with the most exciting news: “I’m engaged!” she said. “I’m marrying this wonderful boy and I want you to be in my wedding.” Erin cried with excitement and anticipation as she imagined what beautiful dresses she would wear and what charming parties she would attend. When Margaret got married, Erin gave her a silver charm bracelet that had everything from crutches to flip flops to a picture of her grandparents’ wedding day on it. She melted. (Literally and figuratively: it was hot as blue blazes that day.)

Margaret lived happily ever after until the day she learned that Erin, too, had found her Prince Charming. (This is the part about your parents, so try not to barf just yet.) Margaret was so beside herself with glee that she packed her bags and flew down to New Orleans to watch them pledge their undying – if somewhat injured – love to each other. There were twinkly lights and lace dresses and blue slings and flowers and lots of love. It was a magical night. Margaret knew right then that Erin was destined for a life of happiness (with your dad) and that only good things would come to her.

One cool, September afternoon, Margaret got the most exciting news: Erin was going to have a baby! She and Prince Charming had finally settled down in a small town, with a cute (if somewhat ’70s-looking but that’s just because the kitchen is mustard yellow) house and presumably a yard. Erin was working as a law clerk for some judges there and Prince was . . . well, he’s very important and does lots of secret missions that you shouldn’t know anything about. Erin always knew that one day she and Prince would have a baby, but the question of what to name it, well, that was a question for the record books. Would it be Zeus? Would it be Aphrodite? Would it be Vixen? Erin didn’t know.

So Margaret took to the Interwebs and wrote the new baby a story in hopes that one day it would understand why Erin and Margaret were such good friends. Margaret hoped beyond hope that the new baby would love her as much as she already loves it (I don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl yet, kid, AGAIN WITH THE JUDGY). Margaret crossed her fingers that she would have enough vacation days to come down and see the new baby, so she could tell it to call her Al. (That stands for Aunt Lizzie. Not for Paul Simon.)

And Margaret and Erin and Prince Charming dreamed lots of dreams about the new baby, whether it would grow up to be a judge or a doctor, a politician or a scientist. And they knew that no matter what the new baby did, he or she would make all of their dreams come true.

THE END.

Now, run off and tell your mama to call me. We’ve got a college reunion to plan.

Spoiler Alert!

Posted by Elizabeth in Daily, Listing, The Almighty TV

My Top 10 TV predictions for this year, or this fall, or however long it is before my favorite new shows get canceled:

1. The two Harlem Globetrotters will come in second to the gay brothers on The Amazing Race. Cute Blond Athletic Cali-Couple will fight for first, but the Globetrotters have longer legs and the gay bros will pull out the win. They’re pretty, they get along well, and they know when to flirt (at least, tonight they do.)

2. Mr. Schue’s wife will steal Quinn’s baby on Glee and pass it off as her own, until it grows up to be an asshole like the mohawk football dude. Also, the black girl and the kid with the wheelchair will make sweet music and beautiful babies together.

3. Cougar Town’s Cousin Courtney (Have I ever told that story? If not, I need to get on that.) will hook up with the judgy neighbor across the street, but not before her son gets a cougar of his own, which will leads to lots of hilarity and physical comedy for which Cousin Courtney is so famous. And by the way, I’m not sure how I feel about her name on the show (Jules). She is MONICA. ABC needs to recognize.

4. On Modern Family, Julie Bowen will slowly drive herself insane with trying to keep her promiscuous 15 year-old from hooking up with the broody senior, which will lead to lots of drinking. I predict glassfuls of Crystal Light lemonade spiked with gin. Also, that Colombian chick will get naked. At her son’s soccer game.

5. Meredith and Derek (Grey’s Anatomy) will get married for real, after they discover the need to file jointly to avoid high taxes in the State of Washington. Yang will choke Army dude in his sleep, Izzie’s cancer will mysteriously disappear and Little Grey will get knocked up by McSteamy. Or maybe Callie will get knocked up by Arizona. I can’t decide. Stranger things have happened.

6. Tom DeLay will make it ALL THE WAY on Dancing with the Stars, besting Kelly Osbourne, who will – six episodes in – lose her shit and require an ambulance ride.

7. Rachel Zoe dies. For real. She chokes on – are you ready? – BUH-nanas. (I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been waiting to use that for, like, months. Months where I totally died every time Rachel died. And then, when she lived after the stomach bug, I died all over again.)

8. Mad Men’s Don Draper cracks a smile and tells his children he loves them. Rachel Zoe dies again.

9. The Real Housewives of New Jersey come back, but all those babies that were born conveniently after they stopped taping are now magically – just like the soaps! – teenagers in the new season. Leads to lots of hilarity and comparisons to Victoria Gotti’s kids. Oh wait, does she still have kids? Or have they . . . “disappeared?” Either way, one of the Housewives moves into a bigger house because a) Danielle won’t stop stalking her, and b) her house was gross after she hosted a benefit and the public came over.

10. Zach Braff, Sarah Chalke, Donald Faison and John C. McGinley come together for a Scrubs reunion and it’s so good that ABC decides to bring it back as a mid-season replacement for Desperate Housewives.

Hey. A girl can dream.

Because next year there might not be as many

Posted by Elizabeth in Daily, Family, Good Stuff, Muse, The Weather, Totally normal

I guilted myself into going to the family reunion today – and it was ALL FOR YOU, LawyerMom! Well, not really. It was also for my great-aunt Ernestine, who turned 90 over Labor Day weekend.

Aunt Ernestine and Elizabeth

And it was for Daddy and his sister:

Portia and Dad

And it was for Cathy and Burt and Frank and Mack and Marie and Michael and all the Mollies and all the Cindys. (There are more than you might think.)

Elizabeth and Cathy

And even though the crowd was smaller, and even though the food wasn’t as homemade as last year (we’re all too old and exhausted to cook anymore), and even though not all my favorites showed up, I did not have to suppress the urge to tell an old wrinkled person to fuck off, NOT ONE TIME. Incidentally, I noticed at the park this afternoon that the leaves are starting to turn. I also noticed last night that it’s dark at 7:30 now.

You know what this means? This means that the universe has given me reprieve! This means that the air is changing! The heat – DEAR GOD THE HEAT THAT TRIES TO KILL ME EVERY SINGLE DAY – is dissipating! I would marry the fall season if I could. I would even buy it a ring and plan a big fussy wedding with a ball gown and a 30-piece orchestra. And I am so not exaggerating.

This is my RSVP for tomorrow: I can’t come. Sorry.

Posted by Elizabeth in Family

Tomorrow, when I am not under the influence of leftover chile corn dip and far, far, far, far, far, far too much tempranillo, I will tell you all about this past week. I will try very hard not to make it morose and depressing, but instead insightful and uplifting. Heads up: I will fail.

Anyway, the annual family reunion is tomorrow around about noon, and I swear to Ancestry.com, I just don’t think I can do it. I just don’t think I can say, “What UP! You are SO not fatter than last year, and SHUT YOUR MOUTH those deviled eggs are to die for!” I can’t do it. Nor can I answer for the 3,508,233rd time why I don’t have children yet, because probably my answer would be something along the lines of, “Fuck off, you old wrinkled person.”

And I don’t mean that, because in all actuality, I like the old wrinkled people. They’re nice to me. They sent me money when I got married. So my apologies, family, I hope you have fun. Maybe next year I’ll show up and will have more to report that’s exciting and wonderful.

This year, not so much.

Trapped; except, not so much really

Posted by Elizabeth in Addiction to, Anxiety, Daily, Good Stuff, Muse

Dear Exponentially Awesome Friend of Mine,

Last night you kind of saved me. In one of those mutual I-was-thinking-about-you moments, you sought me out and you kind of saved me. There’s something to be said for friendships, beyond what we think of when we think of girlfriends. There’s something to be said about women in your life that provide something more – something like a life preserver when you’re drowning, a bowl of homemade chicken soup when you’re sick, a giant, never-ending glass of wine when it’s a Monday.

You, dear good friend, are that for me. You’re the kind of girl that can look at me, in my obvious state of mental fucked-up-ness, and say, I had no idea, but there are ways to get past this. Sure I could cry on your shoulder if I needed to, but what I needed more is for you to tell me that actually I’m stronger than the beast that tries to beat me, and that you will help me fight if you have to.

At one point during our conversation you said that I was trapped. And I am. But when I am surrounded by people that will willingly and unequivocally tell me to take back the reigns and get some control, I know that I don’t have to be trapped for long. So thank you, first for the wine and your mother-in-law’s pimento cheese and the gluten-free crackers because SHUT UP it’s my favorite, but most of all, thank you for being there for me. When the universe finds you a little gift, all wrapped up in the form of a wonderful friend, it makes life a little bit easier.

Thanks for making it easier.