After Elizabeth Gilbert’s Cleveland appearance this winter as part of the Cuyahoga County Library Writer’s Center Stage series, I had pages of notes demanding full-on essay treatment.
That was November.
In the little notebook I carry in my purse, there are four scrawled pages crammed between cabinet measurements for our kitchen renovation and notes from an early morning school levy campaign meeting. No essay. No grand reflections. A few stolen moments documented from a folding chair.
I open with the best kissing scene in all of John Hughes history. Better than Sixteen Candles [snooze]. Better than the passionless pecks in The Breakfast Club. Better than any Brat Pack liplock involving Andrew McCarthy. Is it the soundtrack? The juxtaposition of sex and oil pans? Is it the badassery of Mary Stuart Masterson as Watts? No matter. It’s a cocktail of PG-sexy awesomeness.
Behold…the Kissing Lesson from Some Kind of Wonderful.
A few weeks ago, I read an article by Nadia Bolz-Weber, ‘The Spiritual Practice of Saying No.’ The title invites an immediate shift in how we view our commitments, boundaries and pleasing impulses. Do we say yes because we are afraid to say no? Afraid of disappointing the asking party? Afraid of not doing our part?
When Gloria Steinem walked onto the Severance Hall stage in Cleveland Tuesday night, I screamed like the fan girl that I am.
There are cookies in the pantry…and the voices begin.
“Ooo, I so want this. This will taste so good. This—THIS!—this will make me feel better.”
“Do you know how bad that is for you? You’ll get fat. You get grumpy. You’ll just shove more in your face in a minute. Goddammit. You constantly do things that are bad for you. You make bad choices. Let’s be clear. YOU.CANNOT.HAVE.THAT.”
“Oh-ho-ho, really? Watch me.” *om nom nom*
Puttering is my dominant activity of late. Not in the curious, playful way your dad used to putter in the garage on Saturdays. I putter with purpose. That purpose is avoidance.
When I updated my Facebook profile with ‘work’ [aw, that’s cute, love], it was absolutely no accident that I identified myself as Writer/Procrastinator.