If You Belonged Here

Bookgirl Wears Girl Armor

Everything was fine. It turned out to be nothing. But a few years ago I had to go for a series of tests because my doctor found a lump in my breast.

The first thing I did when i left the office was to call my sister, because she's the most level-headed person I know. I told her, "This is me not freaking out. So I need you to not freak out with me."

The next call was to Polly, because that's what I do in these situations. I call one of my family members, and then I call Polly.

And Polly told me that I shouldn't overreact.

But if I did want to overreact, then I had every right to. Because if you couldn't overreact over something like that, what could you overreact over?

And that was it. Panic over. Because hey, now I had an "Overreact if you want to" card in my pocket. And once you have one of those, you don't need to overreact. Half of the reason you overreact is because you're trying so hard not to. Once you don't have to try not to, then hey! You're halfway there.

(If that paragraph made sense to you, then congratulations! You can follow Bookgirl logic.)

The first step was to cut out all the caffeine from my diet for a month. The conversation went something like this:

Doctor: No caffeine.
Bookgirl: So when you say no caffeine, you mean, like, none?
Doctor: No coffee. No tea. No soda. No chocolate. No licorice. Not even decaf, because there are trace amounts.
Bookgirl: So, like, I can have a little bit?
Doctor: No.

When the time came to see the first specialist, there was serious primping to do.

I wore tights and and a pretty pink skirt and heels, and on the subway down to the office, I put on some lipstick. Because if I was going to potentially have breast cancer, I damn well was going to look cute when I got tested.

Now, I'm lazy about nail polish, blowdry my hair literally once a year, and wear makeup to work on a pure hit or miss basis. But if I'm facing a situation that intimidates me, you better believe I'm going to be done to the hilt.

Girl armor.

There's just something about knowing you look your best that makes you square your shoulders and face problems a little stronger.

I was dating someone once, and he came over late at night when I was already ready for bed. We were fighting, and he was launching into the "do we just walk away now?" conversation.

All I could say was, "We CANNOT have this conversation when I'm not wearing make-up." He looked at me like I had lost my mind, but another woman would have understood perfectly.

Girl armor.

The night before the above-mentioned test, a handful of my girlfriends met me out for dinner. Two of them planned it, and they called it a girls' night, and we never once mentioned the test, but I knew exactly why they suggested the dinner. And it made me love them even more. After all, aren't our friends the very best form of girl armor there is?

Polly and I have an understanding. There's a short list of happenings that necessitate the other instantly dropping everything, getting on a plane, and flying cross-country, no questions asked.

When Dol was feeling low on mojo, the girl council all flew to San Diego for a good old-fashioned sleepover.

It's what we do. We bring food. Bring liquor. Laugh together. Cry together. Pitch in when we need one another.

Girl armor.

Aren't we lucky to have it?

 

Bookgirl Begs the TV Question

I had a coworker once who used to tell me I should have my own sitcom. Now I don't think I'm nearly as funny as she did, but I loved the idea of my own tv show. All eyes on me? Yes, please.

And the best part? I would get a theme song. And that opening sequence. Which would just be me being cute. Oh, how I want my own opening credits.

So if you had a television show, starring you, all about you, what would it be?

As you can imagine, I've given this one some thought.

Mine would be a sitcom. A group of 30-somethings in New York. Basically this blog in tv form, if you would all come to your senses and move here:

• Living, dating, working, navigating the city.
• Sexual tension (Thank you, Chance)
• Witty dialogue
• Me being fabulous

And the opening credits would be a modern-day That Girl. Picture me frolicking around in the city in a little dress and peep-toe heels, carrying a giant red umbrella, spinning and dancing and gracefully avoiding puddles to the tune of Make Your Own Kind of Music by Mama Cass.

Mister casting director, if you're reading this, I'm ready for my close-up.

Bookgirl Wants Billy Joel Lyrics

The thing about having had the same two best friends since junior high is that they know me, inside and out. I can't hide things from them, and they are NOT going to cosign my bullshit.

The thing about having Polly Poppins as one of those friends is that every so often, she'll say something that's so utterly true and succint, and sums up so perfectly what's going on with me, that years later I'm still describing myself by quoting her.

My approach to dating is one of those things. Polly once told me, "You don't do vulnerability well. If vulnerability were a class in school, you never would have graduated."

I wish I could tell you she was exaggerating.

She wasn't.

When we were teenagers, Polly and I worked up this whole fantasy. We were going to live in New England, have houses next door to one another, raise a bunch of spawn, and share a lifetime of backyard barbecues and babysitting each other's kids.

Then in college, I realized that while the whole dating thing was messy and unpredictable, a career was not. My dream shifted. I wanted to be Sharon Stone in Sliver. Except without the stalker.

A fabulous apartment in New York City? A glamorous publishing career? Yes, please. If you asked me at any time in my 20s, I would have told you that maybe I would consider getting married, but the odds of my ever wanting kids were none point none. I thought women who needed a man were pathetic. I dated unavailable men and made out with strangers. And I'm not going to lie, I had a whole boatload of fun.

But then I hit my thirties. I found myself gazing longingly at little girl babies.  I lost interest in random hookups. (Yeah, I didn't see that one coming either...) I realized that my career was really bad at cuddling. And I started to admit to myself that maybe, just maybe, I wanted a family of my own.

So now here I am. I'm 35. I've got my dream job, an apartment I love that I can finally afford to live in alone. And for the first time in my adult life I can say, honestly and without the urge to throw up in my mouth a little, that I'm ready to be in love.

I've been thinking a lot about what I want in a relationship, and it comes down to this:

I want Billy Joel lyrics.

Have you ever listened to the words of a Billy Joel song? She's Got a Way, Shameless, All About Soul.

They can all be summed up like this: I've got this woman. She's the most amazing thing in the world. I kind of can't believe how lucky I am that she's mine.

I just listen to those lyrics and I melt like a puddle.

And I know it's possible. Because my friends have it.

Polly and Ramblin' Jack? Billy Joel lyrics.

Diosa and Blackstone? Billy Joel lyrics.

I know exactly what I want. I want it all.  I want the marriage and the baby and the career. I want to fall in love with someone who adores me.

I'm putting it out there for all the interwebs to see. Vulnerability might not come naturally to me. But I'm working on it.