Category: Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Golightly

Dreamers.  There were an awful lot of wonderful dreams as well as declarations of contentment proffered in my little contest.  Thank you to everyone who entered.  I found it inspiring to read your comments, and even if I don’t respond to each one right away, know that I’m cheering for you to reach your dreams.  I had Neal pick three random winners as I started to feel that to do it any other way would mean 38 skeins of yarn would need to go in the mail.  So.  Meg, Kathy B, and Frarochivia are the winners.  I’ll e-mail you in a bit to get mailing info.

My dreams?  In addition to publishing my novella-short story collection and my novel?

• Teach English in Ghana
• Ride my bike across the country
• Run a writing conference
• Raise money for pediatric AIDS research
• Learn to weave
• Turn a fleece into a sweater
• Spend a year living in another country
• Work at the Globe Theater
• Be a really good person
• Learn Latin

As I made strawberry pancakes for breakfast this morning, I commented to Neal that I could live to be 100 and never have enough time to do everything I want to do.  I guess the trick is to keep at it, to always be on the lookout for opportunities and chances to make my dreams come true.

Isn’t life good?

Cherries.

I discovered I like them just last year.  I’m that way with food.  I say I don’t like something, but it’s usually because I’ve never tried it.  The whole pit thing was the turn off for cherries.  Tomatoes were also on my no-eats list, but the first time I tried a sun-ripened tomato, I kicked myself.  My dad used to eat them off the vine like apples, and now I understand why.

I’ve decided to delay the contest one more day.  I bet you can imagine what I’m going to say "D" is for.

B could be for Beverly, my name.

B could be for beaver, my totem animal.

B could be for blizzard, the weather conditions at my birth.

B could be for blue heron, my totem bird.

But today, B is for bikini wax.  Boys, why don’t you stop reading now and move on to something else?  This ain’t going to be sexy.

Once upon a time, I lost a bet to my boyfriend.  His Boston Red Sox won a little series against my New York Yankees.  He wanted me to go Brazilian, but as a waxing virgin, I was not ready to go all the way just yet. 

What’s a girl to do in the face of hot wax on her, shall we say, delicate parts?  Call a more experienced friend to get a blow by blow of what’s going to happen.  I called Mary.  After explaining to me what I could expect, she surprised me.

"I have a girl crush on my waxer."

"Seriously?"  Did Mary like pain?

"Seriously. I mean, she’s so nice.  I can’t explain it.  You’ll see."

I went to my salon for my pre-Thanksgiving mani-pedi.  I was going to meet Neal’s family for the first time, and I was his class reunion date. What the hell, thought I.  Why not fulfill my bet today.  I told the young woman doing my nails that I wanted a bikini wax, too.  She looked a little scared.  Crap. She went to talk to the swank older woman who ran the place.

"This will be her first time," said the swank older woman.  "I’ll show her."

"It’s my first time, too," I said.  The two women giggled, led me into the wax room.  After I changed, the older woman instructed the younger woman to hold my hand.

"Squeeze her hand if it hurts," she said.  The swank older woman was fast.  Rip, rip, rip, rip.  Done.  The younger woman held my hand and smiled at me while all that ripping was going on.  I knew what Mary meant.

When I moved to Albuquerque, I was at a loss.  I’d been faithful to my salon for years.  Where would I get my hair cut?  Who would wax me with kindness?  I made friends with another writer a year ahead of me.  She had the nicest eyebrows I’ve ever seen on a non-model.  I didn’t know if it would be pushy to ask for her waxer’s name, but I did, and she was thrilled.  See, it’s a huge compliment to be told your eyebrows are divine.  All too often, they’re not.  She loved her waxer; huge girl crush.  After my first appointment with Denise at Chez D’or, I fell in love, too. I had great eyebrows, and the bikini waxes? Practically painless.

Aren’t you just dying to know what I’ll come up with for "C"? 

I loved Cassi at Bella Dia’s idea for August and thought I’d join the fun. 

My first entry is A is for Army, which is my maiden name.  I’ve heard every joke you can imagine from "that’s enough food to feed an Army" to "As in Navy?" and, by the way, my dad was in the Air Force with a man whose last name was Navy!  Also, my sister just up from me (I’m the youngest of five kids–I’m the tie breaker) is named Maureen, which if you say it just so, sounds like Marine.  None of us kids have been in the service, though. 

When I got married at 21, I took my husband’s last name, but felt strange.  It finally struck me: I missed my Army.  I started to use both names (not hyphenated, though) and felt much better.  Last October, after being divorced for two years, I changed my name back again.  Since my recent marriage, I’ve been living in a no-name land.  Some things are in my first married name, some are just Army, and some are in my new two-not-hyphenated names.  Slowly they’ll all get to the new name.

Tomorrow…B is for?  In the meantime, I want to remind you to leave a comment on the previous post.  I’ll select winners tomorrow morning and post pictures of the pretty stash they’ll be getting.  I’ll also talk about my own private UFO August.  It worked so well for me last year that I’m doing it again!