Did a post for BIO ; it was a last minute, I know what I’m saying but not sure if what I meant to say came through.

And I just read that Wendy Wasserstein died. She spoke for a certain type of woman from my generation better than anybody. I began life in training to be that woman and along the way turned into me, who speaks for no generation. Some of her plays were among the finest that I have ever seen. If it weren’t almost one in the morning I would call my sister. But no calls after nine!Isn’t it romantic was my personal favorite Wendy Wasserstein play. Saw it with my parents and sister. After it was over we all just looked at each other and began laughing. It was my life story. I’m going to be putting in the entire New York Times article, but first two great quotes:

In 1998, seeking to help instill her love for theater in a new generation of New Yorkers, she personally instigated a program to bring smart, underprivileged students from New York’s public high schools to the theater. In an essay about the program for The New York Times, she wrote: “As far as I’m concerned, every New Yorker is born with the inalienable right to ride the D train, shout ‘Hey, lady!’ with indignation and grow up going regularly to the theater. After all, if a city is fortunate enough to house an entire theater district, shouldn’t access to the stage life within it be what makes coming of age in New York different from any other American city?”

That sums up what New York should be about: The next quote is a line from Isn’t it Romantic

“No matter how lonely you get or how many birth announcements you receive, the trick is not to get frightened. There’s nothing wrong with being alone.”

I was trying to break up with Zachary when we saw that play, and well, read it. Don’t know if her plays will stand the test of time; do know that her life and death means much to me.

Wendy Wasserstein was a child of privilege. Unlike me she wasn’t an academic misfit but Ivy educated; and in the same Yale grad program that included Meryl Streep, Kevin Kline, and many many other brilliant actors.

Unlike me she wasn’t still questioning her place in the world all these years later. Maybe that does keep me young. I had problems with The Sisters Rosenweig because they felt so middle aged and worldly; well, I can get into the worldly part. Though it raised many interesting questions, it left me cold. It was the only one of her plays that felt superficial to me; probably because it didn’t capture me, me, me!!!!!!!!!! Read more…

Love the post below this one that is on Oprah and Frey; if you haven’t read it, please do,or don’t. Oh yes, I was more than a bit obsessed; it’s the fourth or fifth version! It’s Sunday night and I changed it once more.

If I were going to have a contest for best blogs, and tie it in with a a bloggers conference on a beautiful tropical island, I would want it to end with a bloggers banquet and ball.

The entire event would be populated with bloggers that I know from all over the world, bloggers that I have yet to meet; spouses, children and friends of bloggers who are popular characters in their blogs.

Hopefully I would be very rich and could afford to pay for the entire tropical island, rooms, food, drink and all extras; plus of course airfare for everybody to come.

But since that is a “hopeful” not a reality; I think that it would be wonderful if a corporation decided to sponsor it. They could also sponsor a blog “competition” with stated rules;explanations of what blog fits into what category, and make it into a true competition, not a free-for-all, or who the heck knows what’s happening?

I’m not a competitive person though I have tried my hardest to become one. One of my biggest managerial strengths was to make each person who worked for me, responsible for something real and outside of their regular job. This helped us foster a team spirit; and I made sure that they were paid extra.

What I love about blogging, besides the ability to write about whatever I want to whenever I want to is meeting other bloggers. Have written a lot about blogging as a community; and blogging as the first true meritocracy in publishing.

When I redo my categories and put pages in that link to the subjects, it will be much easier to find these posts, the Zachary ones and many others. Find it amazing that people put up with my many interests. Thank you.

There will even be a page for all the great things people have said about Courting. Since I have attracted many negative comments in the past, I might put them in also.

Anna of Pixel Forte and BIO made many much needed changes that will let Courting become my dream blog. Yes okay I have a dream blog. When I began Courting I knew nothing about blogs, zilch, less than zero. I knew about Wonkette, and little more.

Now I know much more, and know how to use Courting so that she reflects my interests, and people who have recently begun reading Courting will be able to make sense out of the posts. Almost feel like not writing anything new until I finish that, and will be happy to take bets from people…sorta like the Pia Savage superbowl of permanent half time.

Feel so blessed to have met so many wonderful people. Too lazy to name them all now, and petrified that I might forget some. In Feburary I’m going to become a virtual auntie; who would have thought that?

Last March we began BIO;small liberal blogs weren’t supposed to be welcome on the blogging circuit. We were more than welcomed. The new BIO is my other dream blog;it’s fun besides being serious.

If I only didn’t have to make money, I could spend all my time blogging. But alas, life does call.

Just can’t wait until the first annual Bloggers Banquet and Ball.

Changed the title as it seems to sum it up all up!  This is my fourth  sixth version of this post.  Not sure that it’s better, but I keep on thinking about the subject.

Have very mixed feelings about Oprah. I had wanted her to apologize not to change how memoirs should be written. Loved her original definition: something about a persons truth at that time as perceived by the author.

Totally agree that big incidents should be fact checked? But how do you fact check a life?

Remember when Oprah first became known; her story was remarkable.  Of course, she’s a remarkable person.  But no person should have so much overt power.

Can she substantiate her claims that she was abused? Would it have been easier to substantiate when she was younger, more people were alive and memories were fresher?

Is she saying that she should be trusted because she’s famous and is Oprah, but different rules apply to the rest of us?

Realized that the only thing I could write a totally substantiated memoir on is the saga of my teeth–there would still be still be room for argument. And who would want to read it?  The torrid tale of a teeth bulimic: Actually the title sounds better than the story.

Who is Oprah to pronounce a moral judgement on another person? James Frey’s crimes were against the publishing world, other writers, not criminal. Oprah’s crimes are much larger as her words carry so much weight; way too much weight. Maybe it’s time Oprah relinquish her title as Queen of America.

 This is not to say that I agree with Frey in anyway.  Please; “several hours” is very different than “87 days” in jail! 

Finding out that wasn’t true made everything he said suspect.  But how the girl killed herself isn’t relevant.  She killed herself, that’s what is important.  But did she exist?  That too is important.  Read more…

The ever magnificent Cooper began a diary at BIO, where I just went to get the link, and read Jet’s insightful great post where our wonderful Cooper commented, brilliantly, twice. Oh right, I wrote a post for BIO that’s pretty good also–that’s why I didn’t write for Courting

Was going to give Cooper an accolade a day; just because, but I forgot and then I stopped posting, for a few hours. It’s very late but I don’t really want to leave my teeth saga front and center for another day. Thank you all; it’s always been as pleasant an experience as going to the dentist can be, but hey, no pain, no gain.

When I was a kid my favorite song, after my death song stage, was 96 teardrops by Question? & the Mysterians. I found out everything there is to know about them today, too tired to tell it, but couldn’t find the lyrics. It’s driving me crazy; especially since I can’t get “Wild Thing, I think I love you…”out of my head; that’s by the Troggs, a group often associated with Question?.

Read somewhere that Question? was the first punk group, but I rather doubt that I would have liked that. I liked the Rolling Stones and other British groups. Of course I liked The Beatles, but my heart belonged to the Stones. I also liked folk music; but I was very choosy.

I remember going to the Cafe Wha, on Bleeker Street in the Village which catered to fourteen year olds, and seeing them. My friend and I thought you could get high off Coca Cola and Excedrin, and tried to. Didn’t work. But we found Question? very hot

A couple of years ago he played downtown often for awhile. Was going to go, but wasn’t sure that I wanted my memory changed. Somethings are best viewed through the eyes and ears of a fourteen year old, and I suspect that 96 teardrops would never feel the same to me

“Hammer please.”

sickle, suture, scalpel I was trying to think of every word that began with “S” when the dentist began hammering my mouth. It hurt.

I was no longer sure that my commitment to make a better me from the inside out was a good commitment, Or it was one that would both hurt me and begin me on the route to destitution. For at least two days after each two hour dentist appointment all I seem to be capable of doing is blogging and walking. Lost a great rant for Bring it on!

Really really need to focus on things that can make me money; not things that bring great intrinsic pleasure but no money. I would like to ensure my future so that I’m not the bag lady with the great teeth.

At this moment I’m either exhausted or not motivated. I truly hope it’s the former as my motivation is my greatest asset.

When I began the implant process I knew that it would be long and tedious. I didn’t know what tedious was then; I didn’t know what patience meant. I know now. Read more…

Friday was an amazing day; to be anywhere but out was to miss the single best day of the year, and in many prior months. I walked through Central Park to get to my dentist’s appointment on Fifth and 61st. Usually I walk the long way, down to Central Park South where I do take the time to look at the ducks in the duck pond, because I’m allergic to many of the trees and grasses in the park.

Winter is my favorite time there which is good because I find going to Riverside Park too windy. I like living near two half year parks; it makes me feel that my summer home is virtually across the street from the Hudson, and my winter home is near my childhood spiritual home, the rocks in Central Park, and my actual home for those pivotal, I don’t have kids so I can do whatever I want at night, years.

Not that they’ve ended; but almost everybody I know has kids at home. Rafe doesn’t but his daughter is 25 and half way finished with law school. Rafe is an incredible person, and I shouldn’t have pointed out all his “bad” quirks.

When my father died, Rafe would come over every night. When my mother died, Rafe took me to and from the funeral; my mother’s friends were all very impressed. My mother had been astounded by our friendship years earlier.

I reminded her that she had some very close straight male friends. My mother was too classy to counter with the “but I’m married” argument. True she only occasionally met them alone for lunch. But I could tell from the things she said which person in the couple she preferred. True they didn’t come over and stay until two AM without their spouses. My mother might have had a point…but she came to appreciate and like Rafe.

On Friday, hungover as hell, I forced myself to walk. The dentist appointment was only five minutes and I was too hungover to do anything but walk home. Rafe’s hair salon is a mere four blocks, one Avenue from the dentist building as my sister and I call the building at 61st and Fifth. The office pavillion seems to only house dentists, some of whom we know personally. Always pray that I won’t run into any of them after a long appointment because I look like hell if hell were haggard with glass shards sticking into feet.

But on Friday the oral surgeon just took out stitches. When I walked back I realized that I had memorized much of Central Park years earlier when I lived on 63rd, and the zoo was my backyard. While I had the clock with birds that chime the time memorized; I also didn’t take Central Park for granted, for the first time, forever.

Actually when I lived on 63rd I went to Europe often, but when I would walk into the exterior of the park in spring when the trees were beginning to be in full glory, the cherry blossoms were out, I would look at all the splendor and wonder why I was going to Europe when I could find so much wonder in Manhattan.

When I looked for my coop realtors didn’t understand why I didn’t want to live on Central Park West; I had already lived near Central Park, I wanted the other one that people consider less desirable. They don’t know what it’s like when the river breezes flow in on a sultry humid night and it feels like the ocean; I pretend that the traffic on the West Side Highway is the sound of the ocean–it’s very muffled.

Somedays I never make it down to Broadwy; Riverside Park has everything that I need. The upper park has a great promenade; the lower park has a river walk, the boat basin, an incredible cafe and some medicore ones–only opened from Memorial Day, though. The pier on 70th Street is always open, and sometimes I forget that I live in a crowded city.

Not that I would ever tell people how to read my posts, but if you haven’t read the one below, it’s good. Really trying to wean myself of the daily blogging thing. Not because I don’t love it, but because I love it too much. And when I love….Will read blogs tomorrow, and try to keep some sort of blogging schedule.
Just don’t want to wake up some morning and realize that I spent my life blogging, because I would be very poor and very very boring

I am not now, and never have been a Jewish whore to the best of my recollection. Just want to clarify that as it was a Google search term used to find Courting. Didn’t look it up because I could have used Jewish and whore in the same post. Hate it when people don’t use quotes; just a personal quirk.

Did look up “Gary Null gossip” because I know I have never talked about him. Met him at one of the few singles things I have ever attended; brunch with Gary Null. He’s boring, arrogant, pompous, and I could go on but why? Had I been interested in talking to anybody I couldn’t because Null never shut up.

Every time I pass his picture at GNC or one of those places, I remember going to a museum opening with my parents who were friends with the curator’s parents. Talked to a really nice girl who was sick of meeting artists and asked if I wanted to go to the Null brunch with her.

As Zachary was no longer following me everywhere, I was beginning to desire something more than a one night stand. Yes I did them and liked them. Tough I had heard of AIDS and was sure that Patrick had it, people were just learning how it was transmitted. Nobody thought straight non drug users could get it, or nobody wanted to think that.

Patrick wasn’t diagnosed until the summer of 1984 when I would be engaged to brilliant lawyer/PHD in AI/musician. Read more…

for some reason you’re new to Courting, don’t even try to understand. Think of it as the neighborhood restaurant that Zagats gave a 28 to food, and you never know what you will be served but it will great. We’re, me, my computer Savannah and our imaginary dog Toto, great company except when we’re not, and we don’t serve pigs feet. Not Kosher but actually don’t like most meat; do love seafood. Will work for comments; we might want a comment whore award someday.

Would like to thank everybody who went through our recent metaphysical breakdown with us. It was caused by a convergence of events: a full moon, January itself when we have to look at the 1099′s and very professionally throw them into a manila envelope where they usually wait until sometime in late March when we tally all the figures and send them to the accountant with a plea to be kind. This year we would like to do it in late February just to say that we can. And of course Oprah not apologizing for condoning James Frey’s lies. His lies almost sent us off the edge as he sent himself to the bank with much more money. Oh right the worst case Aspergers lawyer on Boston Legal; we still love James Spader. We’re better now; we need more downtime though not sure about best friend time

Do your best friends call, separately to announce that they will be over in twenty minutes? Mine do; almost every Thursday night. Rafe calls almost every Tuesday night to announce that he just found parking on the next block; and Lucia usually comes Friday night. I should have this down to a science and actually buy food and stuff. But why? Food, almost any food is just a phone call and twenty to forty minutes away. As I have a cute but non-operational kitchen this works out well. Read more…

The following is very dark, not fun except for a little detour to the Ritz, a club no longer in New York. Debating closing comments since I’m just in writing mode, not commenting until next week. Stay with me a bit longer; promise I will be fun again.

First today is the 38th anniversary of the day Ron Kovic lost his limbs in Viet Nam. The Bastard posted a wonderful article by Kovic’s in BIO Please read it; it might help save somebody you love.

When I read something like Kovic’s essay I feel so awed and that I have no right to complain about anything.

My only war has been with myself; with the people who couldn’t accept me the way I was; with the people who could accept me the way I was.
That is the saddest part because so many people embraced me, and offered me friendship, love, jobs, almost everything. When somebody would say:

“Really would love to work with you. Call me.”

I would think about the tone of his voice. He was joking wasn’t he?

People have always called me overly analytical. No, damn it, I wasn’t. I know now that I couldn’t catch all the nuances. But I didn’t know that then. Read more…

Hadn’t meant to post this which is why it ends in the middle of a sentence

No! No! No! Really off blogging until Monday but the more I think about the attorney on Boston Legal as compared to me, and as much as I adore David E Kelley and the cast of the show, I think that they did people like me a big disservice.

I’m not looking for empathy or accolades. Need to tell this story but damned if I know how to. Read more…