Denny, my Keats

Dear Denny,

“Bright Star” is about romance, and not the kind of romance I had with the California surfer-cum-documentary filmmaker le weekend passé. It is about the truest love that existed in 19th century England or probably ever ): the love between John Keats and his sassy, seamstress girl Fanny. I have never tried to kill myself because a boyfriend didn’t correspond with me because he was away on his summer rental with his bff, nor have I made my brother and sister fill the room with butterflies (dead or alive) to remind myself of my love. I am therefore convinced that I have never experience love at all and I will not settle until I find my own androgynous and tortured writer. It actually may not be that hard. Anyone who has seen this movie and not wept about it for hours, even days, I am totally convinced doesn’t have a feelings or even a soul. It makes me want to write poetry about my love for you, Den, but I know John Keats would say that women can’t write and I would probably agree.

Love,
Your Bright Star
Megan Marion

Precious Part II

Claire my precious is the new writer and, as per your request ML, I will formally introduce her (to you).

Like the real Precious, Claire grew up in NYC. In fact, not so far from Precious’ home in Harlem, Claire spent her formative years in the Upper West Side. Unlike the real Precious, Claire is skinny and without her father's children.

At 18, Claire moved to Middletown, CT to study at Wesleyan University, “majoring in boys.” Perhaps you remember, Denny, when Claire was convinced that you were in love with her? Well, I remember meeting Claire. She wanted to stab me in my face. Now we are neighbors and both love TV.

Cheryl Lee Terry, my heart and soul!

Perhaps we should all consider the advice of Thomas Crum: “Instead of seeing the rug being pulled from under us, we can learn to dance on a shifting carpet.”

Dearest Denny Wenny,

Since I am now obsessed with the blogosphere, I thought I would share with you someone else out there who inhabits the cyberspace as well as my heartspace. Her name is Cheryl Lee Terry and you may have heard me talk about her every Monday of every week. She included the complicated and wondrous quote above in this weeks reading. She likes Leonard Cohen (so do I!), she tells me what days are just NOT going to be MY days, she inspires me with heartfelt lines from an array of influential individuals, sometimes Mr. Cohen himself, other times, poetic women such as Maya Angelou. And if you're feeling particularly in the mood for a challenge, she may even throw in a Zen koan to get your mind buzzing.

And Denny, let me just say that when you are truly in the dumps, when the rolling credits of FNL or HIMYM come up, when you text every person in your phone and they ALL ignore you, when you take that last bite of brownie and know that you just want more but can't have any more, just turn on your computer, search the site for your weekly Leo reading, and Cheryl Lee will guide you to the light.

Oh and did I forget that her motto is "Be the Change."??? I'm currently trying to decide the appropriate place to tattoo those words of wisdom onto my body. Perhaps on my heart?

Sin"cheryl-lee,"

your bestie

Just One of the Gang!

Dear Denny,

This first post goes out to you, babe! Last night, after a crazy black out night after two glasses of red wine with my dad and brother in "Soho," I rushed home and lit a candle, tucked myself into bed, put the US Weekly next to my pillow, and turned on my favorite night time companion: HIMYM!

Let's just put it this way: I laughed, I cried, I texted you, you didn't respond, I laughed some more, I texted you again, I smiled with my eyes....you get the point. Now, some may think that having a date with the gang from How I Met Your Mother on a Thursday night is somewhat oh-i-don't-know pathetic. Others may be reminded that the last time I dedicated this kind of time and love to a friendly gang on screen was when I was depressed and hiding a bar here and a bar there of my favorite kind of chocolate next to my bed. Ah Felicity and Ben Covington, you guys really got me through a hard time and forever I will be reminded of you when I wake up with chocolate on my pillow and a bellyache!!

Anyway, back on track. Denny, last night when Barney and Ted were being best pals and really supporting each other by drinking, high-fiving, sitting in their booth, and flirting with dumb skanks, I was reminded of our friendship. Remember just the other night on Halloween, when we tried to flirt with the guy in the white t-shirt? We asked him innocently "what are you supposed to be"? Only to have him and his friend look at us and laugh hysterically and then turn their backs? Remember that Den? Well good thing we have each other! Dennis "legendary" Jones and Claire "says I love you on the first date" Typaldos!

Oh man, it's nice to be part of the gang!

Fondly,

Saint Clarice!

Even the poster gets me

Dear Den,

Today is a very big day for large black women and those of us that celebrate them. Second ONLY to the Maryl Streep/ Alec Baldwin romcom coming out in December, Precious is my most anticipated movie of the fall.

“Life is hard. Life is short. Life is painful. Life is rich. Life is....Precious.” Precious is an overweigh teen from Harlem. I normally am not totally into fat people, but when they are overcoming huge emotional and societal obstacles I can’t help but sympathize.

In another world- Texas, I think- “a poor, oversized and under-educated teenager” is taken in by Sandra Bullock’s family. I have seen the preview three times, and I still cry when I see how the poor, oversized and under-educated teenager tells Sandra Bullock that he has never had a bed before. Since “The Proposal” I have decided that SB is the best actress maybe ever and I am certain this movie is going to earn her a well deserved nomination.

Denny, I cannot wait!

mm

Spooky pudding for LUCAS the genius

Mon Cherie,

Quel ete, non? Since I last wrote, I’ve become a temporary employee at some of New York’s finest financial institutions and media groups/a babysitter/a freelance writer (okay, heavy on the middle title). Though my written correspondence has been tenuous, I’ll remind you that I have been in good touch over the phone and just saw you a few weeks ago. You came to New York and we raised a glass for the future Kelley Kelly and then drank un peu trop and ate un peu plus trop and what happened at the end of the night shall stay buried in the most secretest of secret treasure boxes, forever and ever to be sealed. JKJK! DENI, remember that we had a totally private Mexican fiesta of fish tacos and I pocket dialed my dad's cell phone and he was privy to 20 minute of pretty darn private conversation and then just you and I listened to podcasts till 3AM and then had a slumber party!! It was so spesh!!

I have to make this super brief because I am temping today and I keep trying to write this and then keep almost getting busted. WORST. TEMP. EVER. Which is weird, because I have so much experience temping in like 4 different cities. Okay, so really quickly-- I totally understand that girls dress sluttily for Halloween and I've done it one million times and my more mature younger sister just admitted to me that she was "slutty cotton candy" a few years back so obviously every girl does it, blah blah blah. What I don't understand is how girls can wear these costumes to work. We are having an office wide Halloween party in 30 minutes and all these girls are gathering around and there are a bunch of slutty police women, a slutty fire woman and like so much more and it just looks totally weird in the office, no?? And, there are not cute boys around to even impress so I just don't get it.
Oh, Denny, I can't wait to see you this weekend!!

Perdu sans toi,
Julia Andrus Kelly

PS- I am in charge of the telepone switch board and I really wanna grow out my nails longer because its so fun to type in someone's phone extension and then hit TRANSFER if you have big clunky nails!! This temp is going all the way, yo.

CLAIRE, THANK YOU

Its a trilamb party!

Mon cheri,

Holy vache! I've just heard the most spectacular news! We're having a slumber party tomorrow night?! Thank goodness I found out at this early hour, as there are considerable preparations to be made. TO DO:

MEGAN:
Get materials for friendship bracelets
Buy the game Girl Talk
Figure out how we can make s'mores in our apartment and procure the makings

ME:
Rent Jacob's ladder
Compile mixed CD with Regina and Rent and that song "I don't want, anybody else, when I think about you, etc, etc."

Oh, Den, I went through this magic phase in Morocco, in which I really wanted to be proficient in the craft or art or whatever it is, or at least learn a few party tricks. Well, on this Thursday, the eve of your coming, I feel re-inspired to perform, bewilder and dazzle the senses of my awe-struck audience (Meggie and Denny, that's you). So, be prepared, young children, for an evening of intrigue, marshmallows and singing our hearts out. It shall be!


Waiting with baited breath,
TUTU Fantasia, enchantress extraordinaire

Social butterflies

Dear Den,

I’m so sorry to hear of your troubles en Allemagne and please let me know if I can do anything to lift your spirits. Commiserate with your pain, I can do. When I was in the 7th grade, I too, was socially ostracized and my mother was forced to sing my sobbing-self to sleep every night for a year. J'exagere pas. Fortunately, I became homecoming queen a few years later – the peak of my popularity thus far – and now, I suppose I fall somewhere just below average in terms of the social spectrum. Some might say I “peaked” in high school and I’d morosely agree. Anyway, chin up, you…If you follow my trajectory, in a few years you just might be riding around in a horse drawn carriage surrounded by scores of praising minions at the Yale-Harvard homecoming match. Game. Whatever the football one is.

Speaking of social behavior, this summer has been an interesting experiment in mixing social circles. I’ve been introduced to Megan’s Wesleyan crowd and she’s taken a dip into the Trinity pool. Just last week, she willingly made the rounds at the ultimate Trinity bar, which shall remain unnamed but rhymes with Bart and Eddies. She was a real hit (preppy dudes are totally bewildered my Mimi and her “alternative” style - who IS this girl with SHORT and BROWN hair they wonder).

A few days later, Megs mentioned that her friends were making a music video down the block from our apartment and needed a few extra girls to participate. Well, I thought, I love attention and I love dance parties, so why the heck not. Call time was 7am, Denny, and I showed up to location – a public park - bright eyed and bushy tailed. Whistling to myself, I entered into a tent full of naked girls who were in the process of being smothered with bright pink body paint. My whistling ceased and I tried my best to backtrack slooooowly out of the tent without anyone noticing but was immediately caught by Megan’s friend, who was a body painter for the day. “Julia! I can’t believe you came! Thank you,” she exclaimed.

“Wow, I can’t believe I came either…So, this is what’s happening?” I inquired, hoping that perhaps my role in the video was of a different, more clothed and less ho-ish nature, then the flock of girls around me. No such luck. I proceeded to strip buck naked, allow two girls to slop pink paint all over my body (yes, I mean all over), put on a fur bikini and feathered head piece and carry around a cage of hipster boys singing electro-pop for 6 hours. I left feeling very sunburned and itchy (body paint is so scratchy, Denny!) but with a slight feeling of accomplishment that I had left my comfort zone and perhaps became popular among a new group. Well, truth be told, none of the girls really liked me, but hey, c’est la vie, mon cherie.

What doesn’t kill you…

TUTU

The Up and Up

Having begun my career as a temp yesterday, I am really convinced my life is taking a turn for the better. I was certain going in that the Free Masons were a secret society/ cult, and was sorely disappointed when I found no evidence of this. My mission tomorrow is to figure out exactly what it is they do, but this is what I did today:
Drank a cup of coffee
Drank a Diet Coke
Chewed half a pack of gum
Wrote an extensive to do list
Crossed off the things that I had already done
Read four newspapers
Wrote down highlights of each one
listened to Rose tell me about her last ten cats (all of them strays that just showed up at her door!), including names and characteristics. One was named Psycho.
Played who would I date in the office. Decided on the guy who changed the water cooler around four.
Wore heels.
Listened to Rose's commute. It is really long and complicated and about to get worse when her 2nd train changes from express to local.
Did four crossword puzzles. Completed zero crossword puzzles.
Ate in the park. Tanned. Nobody in the office noticed I was more bronzed in the PM than in the AM.
Picked a random person off of the phone list. Sent all calls that I didn't know what to do with to him.
Greg- who goes by the name Grand Master to everyone in the office- told me the scientific reason why girls are always cold and men are not. Until menopause, which his wife is currently suffering from BIG TIME.
Listened to Rose gossip about everyone in the office. Everyone in the office is over 60. I tried to play if each person were a character on Gossip Girl but I got sleepy.
Made note to follow Antonio Cromartie on Twitter to witness first hand his interchange of the letter "c" with the letter "k." Came home and twittered him. Crossed it off my to do list.