be a glutton

I want thanksgiving leftovers.
I want a new outfit to wear to a party, where all I eat is fantastic hors d’vours.
I want a picnic in the park with tea sandwiches and white unfiltered wine.
I want to be able to run.
I want thicker nails, better legs, and a smaller ass.
I want a royal packer, a live in hair stylist, and a wardrobe consultant.
I want a mounted plasma television in my living room.
I want stairs.
I want everything from the vivre catalogue.
I want to go fishing, listen to good music, and get drunk on the boat.  Then I want to cook and eat my fish.
I want to fall asleep with someone other than Linus.

I want more earrings, a personalized bespoke ebury bag, a wide angle lens, to eat dinner at Megu, to go to Oprah’s Favorite Things taping, much more space to keep everything I want.

Linus knows what he wants; he wants to roll in rabbit terds.  He wants treats and mommy’s lap.  He wants to keep shedding, to avoid a bath, to keep his cleats (he refuses to let me trim his nails).  He wants to sleep under the covers, lick up my nose until it hurts, catch a bird.

Want seems frightening.  I remember a friend telling me she had to teach her daughter not to care if other kids played with her favorite things.  We’re taught not to be selfish, not to want for ourselves.  And when we do admit to want, we’re expected to do something about, and that means action.  Risking.  Which might mean failure, which is scarier than wanting.  But not wanting due to fear of failure is sadder than gluttony.  It’s giving up before trying.  I don’t want to live like that.

I want to be a well-known, well-respected writer.  To love what I write, see it there on my computer screen and lick it.  To support myself through writing alone.

To make more money, so I can marry whomever I want without having to worry if he’ll support me.  To have a loving family of my own.  To have babies and a husband I’ll always adore and explore passion with.

I want a bath, because it’s soothing and slow and reminds me of being a child, listening with my ears underwater, staring at the ceiling, watching water pool in my bellybutton.

I want to be motivated to cook again.  I want a microwave again.  So I can make rice krispie treats and reheat.  I really want speghetti with fresh basil.

I want to take a vacation to somewhere beautiful and warm where I can take warm photographs.  I want beautiful photographs of beautiful memories to keep me warm all winter.

I want a grilled cheese sandwich.  I want French Onion soup.  Now I want a Pina Colada.

I want to have another girls dinner at 212.

I want to grill fish kebobs and eat more things with my fingers.

I want a terrace.

I want to make more mixed drinks with my kickass and taking names Waring blender.

I want Linus to never die.

I want.  And that ain’t bad.



  1. Wanting is the most hopeful and most beautiful thing you can do. People who don't want, who don't aspire, have given up on life. Thanks for writing this.

  2. I want a kiddie pool in my living room. Nah, my friends would pee in it. I want new friends.

  3. Dammit. Now I want an Anya Hindmarch bag with a cute picture on it. I want you to go with me when I make that insane purchase. Want is a wonderful thing. Wonderful post!

  4. Total agreement with Daniella: those without wants have forfeited their lives, since a life without wants is the shadow that I lived when I was ten.

    The thing is, how in touch are you with your wants?

    Despite how you may judge me to be a psycho from my last "am I off your radar?" email, I really am the stable gentleman guy that women claim to want. Maybe my eccentricities (work from home, stable income, odd set of outdoor pursuits) throws them off, or my blunt manner.

    Most people have the simple wants that Linus has: a good life with happy parts, tasty parts, a fleeting goal to chase. Maybe that's the issue: we need an unattainable goal.

    Some of us are happy without goals, some are happy describing one goal but seeking another, but many of us simply want something to chase and chase until our hearts want to burst from our panting doggie chests.

    But I'm not speaking rocket-science. We all know this.

  5. Mae — warn your friends that if you think they peed in your pool, you'll taint everyone's coffee or drinks at your place. Keep applejuice in a urine-sample container where everyone sees it in the fridge. Later, during the night, make sure that the bottle is obviously empty by the sink. Your real friends won't be concerned about a urine sample in your fridge. Those are the ones to hang onto.

    Friends will help you move
    True friends will help you move a body.
    True friends will donate urine for your spot-checks at work. It's not a kidney, but it speaks volumes.

  6. I want a chanel bag, a car in the city, to not work and instead read, write and go to the gym everyday, a puppy, and the obvious. .

  7. "To make more money, so I can marry whomever I want without having to worry if he’ll support me."

    That's so sad. It's always wise to have yoru own money but to fear taht he won't support you is very sad indeed.

  8. Wow, I am your new biggest fan!! Such passionate writing. I can't bear the idea of things not working out for you since I, and millions of other know so much about you. I just read about you in the last Sunday Times piece. Also, thanks for showing me that cool vivra catelogue. I want a Pina Colada too, and for my Vizsla Whiskey to never die..but he is old and sleepy and cranky. Don't worry, your soulmate will find you – that much passion is impossible to resist or hide from!

  9. That's right, be a glutton. I want more (MORE!!!!), too, but I know I have a lot too.

    My version of your Linus is my cat Hobbs. He tapdances all over me at 6am to see if he can rouse me enough that I'll give him dry food. So I have to grunt "sleeping!" and sometimes sweep him off the bed with my arm to punctuate it. Some days I tearily wish he would never die. Other days, I think it's either me or him. (I'm joking, of course)

    Right now, I want chocolate. Colombian or Venezuelan. Or maybe Black & Gold with currants and nuts. Or French chocolate with pralines. No milk chocolate schlock from a candy machine. No, no, no. Something dark with some bite to it. With enough caffeine in it to make me dizzy and make my eyes burn. Creamy, smooth, and very, very strong. Just a few pieces to stoke me up for an hour or so.

  10. Maybe its not really the wanting that matters? Because nobody likes to want. Theres the worst kind of want, when you come home dreaming of ritz crackers and tuna salad and you open the cupboard to reveal milk bones and comet cleaner. Theres the whimsical want of bags and houses and fairy tales endings… maybe what "wanting" really is, is longing to like what we have. To love what we have. To stop wanting isnt to stop improving or living, its not settling, its simply admiring the right now. Experiencing the fruits of our labor, however unsatifactory they may be by comparison. Opening the cupboard and feeding your dog and taking a bath in a really clean tub, and being genuinely happy about it. I dunno. I dunno much. Ha.

    Love your blog you're are an amazing writer. Your stories are better than Disney movie soundtracks. By Alan friggin Menken. Sorry if that means nothing to you. To me, it means you're great.

    From Stephanie: Thank you so much for your sweet note. Happy New Year… may you get all you want in the coming year.

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