Daily Archives: December 17, 2007

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How to survive in a small town when you have big city ambitions

December 17, 2007 1:24 pm , 4 Comments ,

I live in a small town where I also happened to be born a baby. I love Charlottesville, Virginia, and so do many respectable magazines, but it is still a small town. When you are young and ambitious, the well of opportunity can sometimes seem to run dry. Especially when you are the type of person who sits around waiting for business proposals and dance parties to come to you. As my dreams get bigger and bigger (bestselling author, Salman Rushdie’s girlfriend, millionaire mother of fifteen, non-nailbiter. . .), I have thought a lot about the limits of small town living. So here is my survival guide for ambitious people who aren’t ready to leave their small town, but who want to be more than mayor of the local bar.

-First, decide why you are still here. Here are the wrong reasons:

a) You are neurotic about leaving your house.

b) You don’t believe you can make it in a big city.

c) You hate ethnic diversity.

d) Someone is guilting you into sticking around.

e) You are afraid of terrorist attacks.

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It’s Noelle’s birthday today

December 17, 2007 11:30 am , 1 Comment ,

I didn’t get her a present this year, because I’d have to send it to Barcelona and I am lazy. I also feel like I have a five-year grace period because of a priceless gift I gave her once. In 2003, when we were roommates in the capital city, I told her that I would clean her filthy bedroom for her birthday. I planned on doing a quick vacuum, a superficial scrub, and a light dusting, but she had other ideas. That December 17th morning she presented me with a three-page, typed agenda called the “Wistar Birthday Maid Cleaning List.” I saved the list as a permanent record of how wonderful I am and how high-maintenance Noelle is. When I look back on it now, I am glad that item #8 under the “Noelle’s Bedroom” heading – “Handwash undies and pirate top then hang dry” – is not crossed off. Here is the abbreviated cleaning list:

-Use the vacuum hose to get all the corners on the ceiling and in my bathroom to get any cobwebs, look thoroughly, use the hose to clean my yellow sofa taking off the pillows and getting in the cracks

-Dust everything with blue dusting cloths

-Fold and put away all clothing (Skirts get hung up, pants in bottom dresser drawer, long sleeve tops are hung up, short sleeve and tank are put in middle dresser drawer color coordinated, undies and bras in that soft hanging thing, coats and jackets in the closet)

-Get all mold off the shower

-Use bleach to clean the mold off the ceiling gently

-Clean toilet plunger and brush. Sanitize with bleach

-Vacuum the blue and orange sofa in the living room under the cushions to get out nastiness

-You’ll be responsible for sweeping living room and dining room after birthday party

-Clean out my toaster oven

-Responsible for mopping kitchen after party

I read the list, then I changed out of my sexy maid outfit and into my biohazard suit. I did my best to complete her tasks while she shouted further instructions to me while obsessively checking her MySpace account. I am the hero of this story, by the way.

I love you, Noelle, and I’m thrilled that you have a Spanish maid now so your friends don’t have to do your housework anymore. But you know I would still clean your pipes and your gutters anytime. Happy birthday, princesa!

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Self-absorbed party wrap-up

December 17, 2007 1:06 am , Leave a Comment ,

I try to be charming at parties, and yet I always end up dry humping someone by the bar or threatening to steal a girl’s baby. I lose people’s jackets, I feed hyper kids too many cookies, and if certain friends haven’t arrived by a certain hour, I make angry, drunken phone calls demanding their presence. But the important thing is that I have a good time. I always manage to have a good time. I am glad that the party ended when it did though, because otherwise I might have proposed mooning cars or playing the fainting game and I would have weirded out my last remaining friends. I didn’t go to many parties in high school and college was no disco, so I think I am still stuck in that middle school party place, where you want everyone to overeat popcorn and candy, gossip about celebrity haircuts, take forbidden drags of cigarettes, and make a public nuisance. And then it’s one in the morning and your guests are bloated, drunk, or pregnant, and they all want to go home. I, on the other hand, want to keep hanging out and play Truth or Dare or Ouija Board, but instead I put all my Pepsi and vodka-induced energy into washing the party dishes and sweeping the floor while the bbf passes out watching The Goonies, and then I kiss him on the cheek and I can pretend we’re playing house in the 1980s.

Thanks to everyone who came to our party! If you didn’t get an invitation I promise it was an oversight or I think you smell bad.

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