It's your day

Happy Birthday, Lilly!

Here is a poem for you:

* * *
today you are a woman
tomorrow you are a lady
forever you are my big sister

i will always snuggle you
and rub your soft arm like a creep
i will annoy you by eating your food and drinking your diet coke
you will get angry and get road rage and punch me
especially when i change songs without your permission

but i will always think that things that are yours are also mine
aren't they?
i think that way because you're just so kind and generous
like natalie merchant says

when you call me a little photo of your face shows up
i can't make that happen for anyone else!
so everyday when you call, i see you
and i like that
because you're pretty and stylish

move to my coast so we can be close
i will buy you a puppy
* * *

Not sure where I'd be without you, Lils. Yous my rock.

See you in a month.

xo Fuzzy

Stolen

I stayed at work late on Wednesday. I spent my overtime (not paid) browsing TMZ/USA Today for juicy news that would prepare me for Quiz Night at Crocodile Lounge so I could impress my old coworkers with my trivia skills. Then I made a stop at Forever 21 and stood in a line of 20+ NYU students so I could try on a pair of skinny bright blue jeans.

The moment I stepped into the fitting room and pulled back the curtain, my phone started vibrating. It was Kayla.

“HAVE YOU BEEN HOME YET?”

“No, why?"

“I THINK WE GOT ROBBED.”

The moment she said robbed, she hung up. I dropped everything I was holding and stared at myself in the mirror.

I have experienced a feeling similar to this very few times. It’s like everything tingles and then you’re numb. It feels like you have no control of your body and can’t form words or think or feel or live.

I called Kayla back.

“We did get robbed. This is not an April Fools joke, Mary Clare. I think you need to come home. Right now.”

I immediately called my Mother and the melt down began. I pushed though crowds of people – shaking and talking a million miles a minute. I finally collapsed on the steps in Union Square – in between protesters and skateboarders – and started sobbing.

I don’t remember getting home, but I’m pretty sure the whole train was staring at my clenched fists and swollen eyes.

Breakdown two happened when I realized they broke in through my locked bedroom window, knocking down all of my books and crushing a picture of Evelyn as a baby that I had in a white frame. They ransacked through our bedrooms - pulling apart our desks and drawers and moving furniture – leaving with our computers, cameras, jewelry, iPods, speakers and video camera.

Kayla and I go back and forth between anger/sad breakdowns to just being thankful we're safe.

I just want this mess to be over. I hate the quietness of the apartment and having to surf the Internet on my BlackBerry. I hate that all my photos and writing and music is gone. I hate that I was going to convert all the high8 video tapes from Vegas/the cabin/Chicago/Green Bay into DVDs for all my friends, and now I can't. I hate having to sleep with Kayla because I'm scared and I hate watching her hide the last of her precious possessions in the closet when we leave the apartment. I hate how we're all paranoid.

And with all the hates, there's a nice balance of love. We have renters insurance and I have the most wonderful and supportive family and friends in the world.

Not sure what I'd do without all the loves in my life - they keep me floating.

Google Stalking Danielle Steel

This weekend I walked past Danielle Steel's house. It's this massive property at the top of a huge hill in Pacific Heights that takes up half the block. Since most of it is surrounded by a giant hedge, I couldn't resist checking out the bird's eye view. The grass is looking a little sparse. Shouldn't she have some Fabio-like gardeners out there working their magic? And look at the huge greenhouse! Or is that a pool? Hmm. Ok, now I feel like a stalker.

I actually knew very little about Ms. Steel before wikipediaing her just now. She's had quite a dramatic life, and who knew she had so many children?

Also, this is fun for about 5 minutes. I got these titles:

Enjoying His Russian Impression
Exposing His Eternal Hatred
Mixing Up the Justice
Stuck At Her Midsummer's Body
Digging Up the Smooth Being
Living With The Blonde Thoughts
Nick's Familiar Sword
Forgetting Her Uncontrollable Mustache

My new get-rich-quick scheme: become a trashy romance novelist. "Living With the Blonde Thoughts" will be my debut novel. It can't be that hard...but could I live with myself? In a house like hers? I think so.

Is Somebody Being Patriotic Over Here...?

It was St Patrick's Day. This made Kevin want to take his shirt off, which somehow attracted a novelty hat-wearing conspiracy theorist. It also made me discover the video mode on my digital camera (that I've had for over a year now)

Oh, and Kevin somehow got the big guy to take his shirt off too. Fortunately, that moment was not captured on film.

We're all here

I spent my afternoon with Wendy and Kitty. Wendy is rehearsing with her new band mates, The Bad Plus. Kitty is here for Spring Break. We spent the day eating cheap and buying cheap. How lovely it is to have family-like folks in town.

And the loveliness is not ending soon. Momma Rita and Auntie Madge get into town on Wednesday.

Plans include Blue Note, MoMA, 3 hour boat tour of the city, wandering through all of Brooklyn in hopes of finding Hannah and me a neighborhood to live in come September, eating and some quality mother/daughter time. I can't wait to have this woman living on my futon for the week/end:

I like these boys.

Vampire Weekend lives up to the hype. I can't stop listening. Fuzz, go make friends with them so we can all hang out when I come to visit.

BFF Birthdays

These are three of my best friends that live in Minneapolis. It's their birthdays - they're all (almost) 24.

They're the bestest friends a girl could ask for, and it would take a lot more than a blog post to say why. So instead, I will tell a fun story about each of them.

Happy belated Birthday, Linnea!


One Saturday night at Brother's, we found ourselves in the middle of a dance-off. Usually we have these in the bag - but this group was tough. Just when I thought we were going to have to forfeit to breath and get a glass of water, Linnea entered the circle. She looked around, smiled and squatted down low to get momentum for an enormous jump. Linnea didn't land the jump on her feet - she landed in the splits. The competitors left the dance floor.

Happy almost real birthday, Kristine!


One evening during finals week our freshman year, Kristine decided to go to the club (either The Bird or Cancun, I forget which). On her way home (at 2:30 AM), she thought she'd stop at Domino's for a pie. The door was open, but nobody was home! So Kristine decided to make her own meal - she sauced/cheesed/pepperonied up a pizza and threw it in the oven. While waiting for it to bake, she answered drunk phone calls from frats wanting food and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she turned off the oven and the lights, and walked home with her homemade pizza.

Happy early Birthday, Claire!


On the way to Rockford for our high school's homecoming football game (1999), the cheerleaders stopped for lunch at a sit down diner. I sat across from Claire and next to Kiley. Claire is notorious for having the best and most descriptive stories (i.e. the story about when her car got shot 3 times, the story about the week-o-tickets when she got a parking ticket, went to fight the ticket and got a parking ticket while doing so, then got a speeding ticket, then almost got a ticket for "rolling a stop sign" then...). So Claire's telling a funny one and I start choking on my pickle. I can't breath or stop laughing. I finally cough it up and it hits Claire in the neck. Kiley pukes. Claire pukes. Then we go cheer our boys on!

---
When I think about how much these three mean to me, my heart fills up to the brim and then spills over with happiness.

Sadly I'm unable to make it to the big birthday celebration this Saturday. So I'm spending the week in mourning, reminiscing alone with my iPhoto...














I love you, girls. I hope you have the happiest year yet.

XO