While Pia is playing

I give myself the first ever I love Frank Rich for his mind and want his mind award. Being a Times Select customer I feel it important to share his mind.
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If you’re new to Courting we were a cover story last spring. A good blogging friend says that it does a great job of explaining me. Do I really need to explain myself? 🙂 Rather, does it take a newspaper article?

We might never have met G if not for this article, so it has served one great tangible purpose already, and many many intangible ones

I put in a fiction page. It amazes me that I spent my entire life afraid of writing fiction when it’s so much fun. This is probably due to the “D” content “F” grammar I received on a 20 page short story I wrote in Fourth Grade about a woman mopping her kitchen floor as she imagined the things she and her husband would do when he came home from a war. It wasn’t sexual. Even I knew enough to not write about sex while in Fourth Grade

My parents were on vacation. It was the first week during a school year they had been away, but my family needs its vacations and I guess tax season had just ended. In the years before computers and extensions, everything had to be done by April 15th. Computers and extensions made my father and thus our family very happy.

Not that he ever learned how to use a computer. He was scared that he would get lost in the netherland of computers and never be seen again. My father could spot trends. I’m even better, but lacked the confidence probably because my parents weren’t home some week in 1960 to tell me that my subject matter was inappropriate. Though I don’t think they would have but just proofed the damn story. They probably would have thought it cute, told every friend and family member and embarrassed me to death. I died often as a child.

This is frigging amazing. I can blame every problem I have ever had in life on my parents not being home when I had the biggest assignment in school to date, in fourth grade.

I don’t believe in assigning blame. I don’t believe in blaming parents. It’s okay for a teenager but unseemly after the teens. My parents had nothing to do with me not writing fiction, and the fourth grade assignment affected it minimally.

I feared fiction. Brilliant people write good fiction. Most fiction is mediocre because the authors are. Good plots are essential but without great characters meaningless. I mistakenly put Stephen King down for years until I read his memoir/writing book, and realized how important character was to his stories.

Fiction that grabs me has great characters. I have been writing great characters for years, even if they were admission summaries in the nursing home. In grad school my professors eagerly awaited my papers, especially the ones that were character sketches or had character sketches woven through them. I have always told myself stories for my own amusement. I might as well write them.

I think in my continuing need to be construed as Parker Posey I can be the Parker Posey of fiction. Now that she’s been on Boston Legal, my admiration for her, of course, has grown.

I’m not putting everything in. Nor am I going into a big explanation. A friend told me about something really funny she had read in a newspaper blog that sounded like me. They were my lines and I neither was linked nor acknowledged, but I posted it first so….I don’t have the creative commons license up as when I read it, it said nothing more than I can say. My work belongs to me. If you use it acknowledge me through a link or my name, Pia Savage, and my blog name and url, courtingdestiny.com â„¢

I do have faith that nobody will or can accuse me of imitating styles. If they do, this blog, and my prior published writing in MSM work proves….Steal my lines and you will suffer, maybe not now, but someday, somehow. Remember I have a newfound love for Stephen King, and some of his characters…
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I can’t really explain it yet but I think two years some months of blogging has helped me understand, not only my own self better, but other people. More importantly, what people I would want to read my work relates to, because so many of you do.

I can’t thank you all enough for believing even when I sometimes don’t. The past few months have been too action packed in my own mind, and bloggers helped me get through it. I have been privileged to know amazing unselfish bloggers. It makes me believe in the goodness of people and all that.
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I’m about to embark on an adventure. Not the vacation as much as not bringing a laptop with me. It’s mind boggling. Just being in an airport and not having to take the laptop out and put it back in is exciting.

I have enough other toys with me and will bring a few notebooks for different projects and a journal to take on the beach. I’m going to see if writing by hand really helps as many people claim it to.

I’m taking some books and magazines that I haven’t had time to read.

I just want to walk on the beach and relax on my terrace that overlooks the Caribbean.

Then I’m going to come home and write something fierce. Or somethings fierce.
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Oh I put an Allied Interstate page in because it is a company without a moral center and much power. It’s Courting’s biggest search, and continues to get rants and people who help other people. I just provide the place and the initial post. That’s blogging at its finest to me and I am very proud.
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My blog can be read reverse chrono, through categories and countless other ways.

I will have the second half of the girl meets detectives story. The detectives in this story have nothing in common with my one and only true affair. I do forsee trends and therefore had an affair with a winning senate candidates bodyguard who was a recently retired city detective, eighteen years older than me, I was 26, it was 1976, and I have the it was the 70’s excuse.

This was several years before Patricia Hearst married her bodyguard and long before body guards and rock divas became fashionable. It was a good trend. I had fun, but refused to ever have an affair again on the he’s another woman’s husband principle.

Sometimes it isn’t fun being so principled, but I don’t think my best friend, Rafe, would be my best friend if we had ever…Once we started to kiss and laughed so much we couldn’t go any further. It would have been incest something he claims, still, to love.

This is a classic Pia post because it’s Saturday night, and just feel like being loose. I have been so pseudo/philosophical that after I had a perfect pedicure, I began to equate life as I want it to be to a pedicure. Walk in with messy feet, and walk out with beautiful feet. So simple, so impossible to replicate in real life.

If you live in Manhattan, it’s The Trevi near the AMC/Loews. It puts Pinkys, our large a cut above chain, to shame. I used to get my manicures and pedicures from Joan who now does Bergdorf blondes, and have been floundering from place to place for much of the last decade. Finally finally found a good place. Lucia never heard me talk nicely about one before. Let alone talk as if I had found my lost love.

Jonathon and his wife are in the process of adopting a child or children. Wish them luck.
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Lucia and I saw The Good Shepard. It’s excellent. I can’t understand why Matt Damon basically has one expression yet is both a great actor and weirdly hot. So different from Ben Affleck, it’s hard to believe that they were and/or great friends. But that’s what people say about me and Lucia when they don’t say we’re the Bobbsey twins.

I want to see it again but not for awhile. There were somethings that I just didn’t get. It’s a two view movie. There were somethings that I think they got wrong, but they cleverly covered the incidents.

My first vacation without a laptop in four years. I was a reporter and there was always a reason that I needed it. Not now. While I’m extravagant in many ways I’m cheap in others and believe that cells were invented so that people wouldn’t use hotel phones.

This does go back to childhood as we stayed in many hotels and the one sin was using a room phone, unless calling another room.

I told everybody that I wouldn’t call because I want one non-connected week. Though of course I have my cell.

I’m beginning to hit the French Roast big time.. I didn’t watch The Golden Globes. Award shows, even them and they’re the best I think turn me off more and more each year

When I come back from Cancun I will probably see a movie every other day because there are so many theatres so close to my apartment, and it’s the way I relax best.

I forgot that Mexico is a foreign country, and that I can’t print out my ticket here. Mexico was always the foreign of countries to me as I spent a summer in Oaxaca, and the next summer traveling through it in high school. My father thought I should know what the country next door was like before venturing further afield. He really wanted me to explore and understand the third world.

I bought a guidebook to the Yucatan which had harsh things to say about Cancun. I have never been there. I stayed in Isla de Mujeres and Merida which was unlike any city I had been in Mexico. It was very Spanish colonial, not that I knew Spain then.

I want to take a nap more than anything. I can’t sleep much on planes though I love plane rides and airports. Still, with all the security and changes. I have a thread of emails arranging a room to be ready at noon or so instead of three PM and while I was at managed to upgrade to a junior oceanfront suite. I know how to upgrade, and I know how to write flowery emails.

I shouldn’t have said that I was going to Cancun but an exotic Mexican locale or something. The thing is I am a New Yorker and feel most at home around though not necessarily in crowds.

I feel very self-indulgent and keep on telling myself that I don’t have kids to send to college, and need this time to regroup, and chill. I must check the weather in Cancun for the first time in thirteen hours.
Just checked it and they had showers every day, but the chance of precipitation was 20 to 30% usually. I can live with those odds

Can I stream my consciousness anymore than this?
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I’m working on my memoir more than ever. But since I began the novel, the memoir flows easily. It’s even kinda linear.

My sister, bless her, is scared that somebody will steal the title Electric Haired Chick:but uh…