Friday, October 04, 2002
calling all new york buddies -
the wang and the cruel little man and i have hatched a nefarious plan for fun. we'd like to figure out an inexpensive way to get out into the ocean on a boat for a few hours, possibly on columbus day (mon. oct. 14), for a jolly good time. of course, boat rentals are expensive here in the most expensive city in the world, but nonetheless, we are the magic makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams, so we're hatching a plan anyway.
we're thinking, maybe, 20 to 30 of us, getting together for a few hours around the harbor on a boat. no frills, no silly six course dinner yacht - just the ocean, the boat, some beers, and good company.
so! anyone who wants to join or anyone with any leads/ideas on how this stellar plan might come about should leave me a note in the nifty little comment box, newly updated and functional for such purposes.
think about it - wouldn't it be great?
dum dum dee dum ...
yes, sharp readers, that was the written sound of ... wedding bells. kieran culkin has finally asked me to be his blushing bride. we didn't want to make it public, you know .. the press and all the media hoopla ...
okay, fine, so i'm not marrying my hott new crush. but in more exciting [and certainly more realistic] news: my dearest little soul, raychul, and her beloved matt, have finally picked the joyous day to make some vows, break some plates, and have a grand old time. there will be dancing, there will be lots of indian food, there will be beaming parents and hyperactive children .. raych, matt, you sure you don't want to elope and save yourselves some money?
no? okay then. january eleventh, two thousand and three, my dearest raychul is getting married.
aahh, my ego ...
slowly, the littlest owl on the web is making a mark! recieved an email from an old sarah lawrence buddy, saying: "You are such a rock star. I used to read my horoscope online, now I read petithiboux and your archives!" isn't that the sugar on the cake? thanks, mayumi.
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Wednesday, October 02, 2002
open letter to stupid boys.
we hate it when a crush gets too complicated.
we hate it when boys think they can just switch hot/cold and girls won't notice the change.
we hate it when boys act all *shrug,whatever* when they're really thinking *yippee!*.
we hate it when you act all sweet just to rope us in and then act like we're yesterday's dessert.
we hate it when you tell us what stupid pop-star-du-jour you think is especially hottt.
we hate it when you avoid us and think we won't notice.
boys - none of this neandrathalic, childish behavior of fifth-grade-crushdom escapes our notice. we are radars, when will you understand this? whatever games you play, we will notice.
so just quit it. like us, or don't like us. pick a side of the fence and stay there. or the fence will be the only thing you're straddling on those cold nights.
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Tuesday, October 01, 2002
to the young go the ... closed doors.
well, that was brief. this morning, i got a phone call from a PR firm, wondering if anyone at our magazine would be interested in a ten-day, paid african safari - to canoe down the okavango river in botswana and bird watch on the tuli delta in namibia.
my heart leapt like the gazelle i'd now have the chance to see again. africa! where else do i constantly dream of returning? where else do i wistfully tell tales of, and read travel pieces of, and surf the national newspapers about? africa! the sun. the people. the stretches of unspoilt beauty. the feeling of bumping along in a twenty-year-old land rover with some smiling man named mwangi at the wheel. the feeling of red dirt between your toes. seeing hippos, and rhinos, the majestically awkward giraffes.
i went as calmly as i could to r.h., one of our editors, and someone who knows how eager i'd be to take on any assignment like this. i told him about it - i told him i'd be more than willing to test-run any photographic equipment under the sun, if i could test it in the valley of the okavango river. he thought about it.
for one solid hour, i thought, yes! why shouldn't this happen? it's during a lull point in our production schedule! it's free! i'm a good writer! i've been to africa! yes!
and yet, no. editor told me he didn't feel comfortable with me leaving for ten days [even though everyone but me has done so in the past three months, at least once]. he told me he wouldn't feel fair not offering it to one of our techie-oriented freelancers [even though it will cost the magazine roughly $1,500 to pay them for the article written, while sending me would not cost a dime]. he told me, in short, no.
and i nodded understandingly, and asked if he wanted me to forward the press release and contact info to all those freelancers, and chatted briefly about another assignment i was working on [one that keeps me here, at my desk, where i'm available to file papers, request art, and field irritating phone calls]. i was calm. i was cool. nonchalant, even. we laughed about something unrelated.
and then i went downstairs and had a cigarette and fumed. fumed that the opportunity was right below my nose, but that i'm considered too young, too junior, not worthy yet, to take it. fumed that all i ever dream about is going back to africa, the place i grew up, the canvas of my childhood memories, and i never have the money. fumed that the trip is there, it sits waiting for me, for free, and i cannot go.
hurry up, maturity. hurry up, respect. i know i'm young, but come on. do you have to flaunt something so obvious in front of me like this?
*sigh*. wait, africa. i'll return one day.
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Monday, September 30, 2002
a letter to my former self
hey, you. i know you're sixteen and you've just discovered email, so real letters seem a little old-fashioned and pedantic (look it up). but six years later, i find myself thinking about you. when you think about me, you probably have no idea what i look like, or what it feels like to be me. you imagine that i'm just as thin as you are (i wish!) just as much a star in the crowd, just as ambitious. i'm sure you look at twenty-two and think, wow. she's got it all.
i'm writing to explain some things to you about the differences between you and me. i know the things you think you want: you want to be as shining and fresh-penny-new as you are now. you want to see people around you admiring your courage, admiring your intelligence, admiring your presence. i understand. you feel like the acceptance of others - the encouragement of others - is the ultimate crown on your charming head.
from where i stand, i'm going to give you a piece of advice, something i should have realized when i was you. don't wait for other people to admire your courage, your intelligence, presence. instead, beat them to the punch and admire your own. when you do something you're proud of, tell yourself how wonderful that was. be the first to congratulate yourself on victory, and be the first to face your own fears and flaws. right now, you think you need other people's spotlights to make your star shine. you're wrong.
and another thing about spotlights - don't be so eager to bathe in people's adoration that you'll rest under just any light. i know you at sixteen - you are brave but you're also vain, and unaware of the desperate need you have for people to love you. not everyone has to love you, sweetie, and not everyone deserves to. a wise man (your father) told you once that if you leave this earth having made five true friends in your life, you are lucky. you don't believe him - someday, you will. until then - be cautious with your generous trust in people. especially fellow sixteen year olds.
and lastly - don't be afraid of failure. so far, you have never encountered more obstacles than you can handle. you've got it easy at sixteen. the next few years will be difficult, and they will bring failure, and you are unprepared to fortify your confidence against internal attack, so that your faith in yourself weathers this storm. you will doubt - you will forget to have faith in the amazing person you think you are now. you will forget how to look in the mirror and be proud of what you see. you will not listen to the loved ones who attempt to remind you of your uniqueness. but if you start now, forming an unshakeable faith in yourself, the next six years will be that much easier. believe in yourself - understand that burdens are never too great for you to bear.
and be nice to mom. she adores you. you being sixteen is as difficult for her as it feels for you. one day, you'll realize what a silly pain-in-the-ass you are. but i love you anyway.
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