Perhaps, at this point, you are assuming that The Year of Enough means “enough with the blog posts!”, because I have been so silent the past 2 weeks, when I usually post twice a week or so. However, I’ve just been so busy living my life that I have no time to write or reflect on it. So, what the heck have I been doing? A lot of rehearsing for various performances, for one. We had our final rehearsal for Listen To Your Mother San Francisco, and it was so affirming that this show is an amazing storytelling adventure. If you have ever had a mother, been a mother, or known a mother, you will like this show. I’m so very excited about it.
I’ve also been in rehearsals for a super-secret flash mob, that we set off without a hitch (okay, a couple people had injuries, since it was such a tight space, but no ambulances were called) at the SF MOMA Modern Ball Wednesday night! It was incredibly exciting to be super stealth, set into the crowd like uncut jewels in a sea of A-listers wearing blood diamonds on their designer dresses and Botoxed skin. The star sightings were all very Bay Area, but fun nonetheless — Congresswoman Nancy Pelosi, former Mayor Willie Brown, SF Chronicle writer Leah Garchick, and gazillionaire Ann Getty. As the time for the big reveal approached, I found myself wondering if these people would really appreciate this or not. Their faces were not only frozen from cosmetic surgery, they were lifeless from years of getting everything they want, and being catered to. They had also paid $125-500 to be there that night, and expected to be entertained. Once the flash mob started, with our wonderful teachers in the center, shaking it to a belly dance routine, and then my classmates joined in little by little, dancing to a James Brown number, the crowd around me did react.
“It’s a flash mob,” one tuxedoed man explained to his date. “Are they just doing this spontaneously?!” she asked. “No, they practiced!” he looked at me knowingly. I shared in his wonder that all this was happening right there in the lobby of the museum. And then I leapt into the fray, spinning my way into the mass of dancers as the music changed from James to the Black Eyed Peas. It was a blast, it was close quarters, some people got stepped on, some members of the audience totally got it and danced along with us, others recorded it on their phones, and, sadly, still others gave us a “golf clap” and went back to their elixirs and sure-to-be-riveting conversations about Muffy and Biff’s divorce. If I sound a touch jaded, it’s because this is the crowd that I usually find myself protesting against, rather than trying to delight. However, I wasn’t doing it for them. I was dancing simply for the joy of dancing, and because I am so in love with the actual building of the SF MoMA that any reason to be there gives my heart a bump, and now I have a wonderful memory of a covert dance operation, every time I go there (usually on the free days) to check out the art.
See if you can find me in the video below: I’m wearing a teal dress and I enter on the top left. I couldn’t extend my arms all the way, in fear of knocking out my fellow dancers, but it was still fabulously thrilling.
So, what else have I been up to? A lot of reading, as all of a sudden all of my reserved books at the library came in at once. My favorite, however, has been one I pre-ordered on my NOOK Color, knowing I couldn’t wait the requisite 6 weeks for the library copy to free up. Jenny Lawson’s memoir, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, is so hilarious and mildly offensive, that you should perhaps save it for a week that you know is going to be a total shitshow, like the week you do your taxes while your least favorite relative takes over your bed and you sleep on the floor where you have nightmares of rats eating your baby. But you may be wondering, is it for me? Well, see if you fit into any of these categories:
People who will enjoy Jenny Lawson aka The Bloggess‘s new book:
1. Taxidermy Enthusiasts
2. City Dwellers who want to feel affirmed in their choice to never, ever live in the country.
3. Psychotherapists or other folks interested in how people with mental health issues battle their disease with a hefty dose of humor (and a lot of drugs).
4. Skanky Unicorn Fetishers.
5. The large quantity of my Facebook friends who for some reason think that Jesus was a zombie. (Zombies are created from a flesh-eating bacteria/virus infected monkey biting a human, which turns said human into the cannibalistic undead. Jesus resurrected, and didn’t try to eat anyone. THAT WE KNOW OF. But somehow I think if the zombie apocalypse happened way back then, the world would look very different these days)
6. Folks who enjoy laughing at others’ misfortune, but, you know, in a good way.
7. Anyone who ever wondered exactly HOW Ms. Lawson got so fabulously bizarre. The context makes reading her blog so much more satisfying.
8. Parents who have ever been concerned about what to do with their children while they are protecting their dead dog’s carcass from a pack of wild vultures.
So, most people, really. Finally, I’ve been doing my requisite amount of running after Olive, and questioning my life choices. Joel and I went out for a drink and dessert on the night of his birthday, while friends of ours watched Mystic Pizza at our place with Olive snoozing in the next room. Over delicious drinks and terrible foodie ice cream (sometimes they just overthink it way too much and it comes out tasting like yoghurt with gum sauce), I told Joel how much I was struggling with the toddler years. Olive is a kid that requires an intense connection and engagement, something I totally love about her and is completely killing me at the same time. So, here I am, really struggling with being with her 24/7, and here she is, REALLY REALLY HAPPY. It’s hilarious, actually. Olive is undeniably happier every day with me than she was when she was with her nanny 3 days a week. I am not making any kind of statement about anyone else’s childcare situation. God forbid I get involved in something as ridiculous (and totally media-driven) as the “Mommy Wars”. But sitting there, Joel and I both agreed that it is a really good deal. I may be in physical pain, losing my mind on a daily basis, but the results are incredible. Our kid is insanely happy, and I get to witness her growth, changing second by second, wildly spinning into the person she was meant to be.