Yesterday: work before a holiday weekend. No one is around, so I’m printing out photos of my sister and me on the Y&R color printers. I’m going to draw from them this weekend. Then I am ready to leave for the day, to do Vik Muniz at a Gallery with Chris. But Steve, my office singing partner in crime, tells me there are photographs of me posted on the 15th floor of the Young & Rubicam offices. Before I had a chance to grab my prints, someone copied them and taped them to the walls of the 15th floor. Um, thankfully, they are headshots, not nudes. Before I leave for the weekend, I remove the photos of Lea and me off the walls. Then Chris and I make it to see Vik.
Then we ate. And how. ‘Ino. Sandwiches, wine, truffle egg toast. Then it befell us: the intense need to rekindle our youth. We decided we’re on a hunt for an ‘Old Fashioned Grilled Cheese Maker.’ So Chris phones the authorities… his mother… for the official name of the Italian Sandwich Maker. When I was the fat girl, I came home from school, buttered bread, spread peanut butter, and sprinkled chocolate chips and mini marshmallows into the sandwich maker. Sweet gooey lovliness oozed. I needed dessert.
411 is dialed, and we’re on our way to Magnolia Bakery for Banana Pudding. Oh yes we are. We sit in our charming neighborhood, pretending we have lived there all our lives. We sit on our brownstone steps and eat our cookies and puddings. This is ours. At least for the night. But people are waiting on us. So we leave our home and head north, where we meet Monique and Jenny to see Saved! But it’s sold out. A door closes, a free movie pass opens. PROOF sneak preview pass is handed to me. Then the crew heads south to Times Square. Hello Sailor. Fleet Week. How fab.
The lines to see Saved! in Times Square are egregious. We sign up for the 11:50 show. I have to convince Monique it’s not too late. I cajole them into ESPN Zone. My shirt is too low cut for Air Hockey against Chris, but we play anyway. Then we leave, sweaty and eager. Saved!
I cried, duh. I always cry. I loved this part: a guy says, “I don’t want to be the guy who needs the girl. I want to be the guy who wants the girl.” Welcome to my world. Lately, I’m not needing the boy. I’m wanting the boy. It’s a good thing… maybe I’m saved. Ya know, maybe being wanted is just as good as wanting…
Cause for too long, it has been wanting to be wanted always over wanting… why do you think I diet? Thin and wanted tastes better than McDonalds. Maybe I should eat the McDonalds and take what I want… and worry less about what everyone else wants. What he wants, what he wants, what he wants. Now, it’s not about men… it’s about me, and about finding want. I don’t care if this doesn’t make sense. It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m drunk. Nice.
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