A Total Waste of Makeup (22 page)

I came up with a few more bits of advice for my journal during those few days:

Chase your dreams daily. I’m not just talking about the big dreams, obviously if you want to be a great baseball player, or ballerina, or artist you must work at it every day. I mean, chase the little dreams. If you dream of having an ice cream cone one day, go out and get one. If you dream of going to the beach another day, jump into your car and go.

Spend a night listening to the bartender’s problems.

There is nothing more painful in life than to be invisible. Try never to make anyone in your life feel that way.

Embrace all cultures.

If the Coffee Bean/Tea Leaf still exists in 2100 and whatever—go get an ice blended mocha. They are ambrosia—the gods drank these on Mount Olympus.

Get your hands on the DVD (or whatever technology is the 22nd-century equivalent) of a TV show from the 1970s called
The Mary Tyler Moore Show.
It describes not only how single girls felt during the 1970s, but also how we felt in the 2000s.

Buy real estate. They’re not making any more land.

No one likes to be judged. If you’re going to advise someone, do it without judgment.

All mothers should read that one.

Never scold someone. Making someone feel bad about themselves shouldn’t make you feel better about yourself.

All heads of security on game-show sets, not to mention self-important assistant producers on soap operas, should read that one.

Don’t do something just because everyone else is doing it.

I started to write,
If everyone else jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge
…but then I stopped myself, because it’s not the same. If everyone else was carrying their stuff in a Kate Spade bag, I’d have one in a second. As a matter of fact, I do.

But it’s usually good advice.

I spent the evenings checking my e-mail and seeing if Jordan was online, but he never was.

That Thursday evening, while I was online, my sister forwarded me an e-mail honoring Erma Bombeck, who wrote a list called “If I Had to Live My Life Over” after she found out she had terminal cancer.

Don’t worry about who doesn’t like you, who has more, or who’s doing what.—Erma Bombeck

It struck me for some reason, so I decided to pass it on.

I was just about to get offline when I got an IM:

Jordan1313: Charlie? So what are you doing home alone on a Thursday night?

He called! Well, sort of.

AngelCharlie: Who said I’m alone? I’m kidding. It’s so good to hear from you. I’ve missed you this week.

Which is true.

Jordan1313: Yeah, me too. Debating basketball hasn’t been nearly as much fun without you.
What have you been doing with your days?

AngelCharlie: Well, today I worked out with five different trainers at five different gyms.

Jordan1313: Wow! I knew you had to work out to get a body like that, but I didn’t know it was that excruciating.

A body like that? Is he kidding?! He’s flirting. That’s not my imagination—he’s flirting.

AngelCharlie: Speaking of Wow’s—Wow, that’s quite a line. You don’t get a body like this through exercise. You get it through indiscriminate eating. Anyway, I was just interviewing personal trainers for Drew. I didn’t manage to do the whole five hours.

Jordan1313: How many did you do?

AngelCharlie: I did most of the first session, and most of the second session. When the third session’s trainer saw me come in with an In-N-Out burger in one hand, and a chocolate shake in the other, the guy knew this was a desk interview.

Jordan1313: LOL. I didn’t see you the rest of Monday. Did you have a good birthday?

AngelCharlie: It was wonderful.

You don’t always have to lie through your teeth. Sometimes, you can lie with your fingers tap, tap, tapping away. If I said it was fine, instead of wonderful, it might look like I’m being negative or pessimistic. If I mentioned my crazy family, it might scare him away (God knows there are days when they scare me away). So I decide to keep my responses upbeat, positive, and light.

Not that I’m overthinking this—I’m not.

AngelCharlie: I love your present. I put the picture up on my mantle. You have amazing talent.

He doesn’t write for a while. I can’t tell if he’s checking other e-mail or Web sites, or if I somehow wrote the wrong thing. I look at what I wrote. I don’t think I said anything bad.

Jordan1313: Thank you.

He finally writes,

Jordan1313: So, since we wrapped today, do you have to work tomorrow?

AngelCharlie: No, Drew gave me the day off.

Jordan1313: Cool. Do you want to go to the beach with me before the party?

Shit, shit, shit. Now I take a while to write.

AngelCharlie: I’m afraid I can’t. Drew got me this spa day for my birthday, and it’s tomorrow. I’m really sorry. Can I take a rain check?

Jordan1313: Spa day, huh? My mom loves those.

Great. Now I’m reminding him of his mother.

Jordan1313: It was just a couple of crew guys hanging at the beach before the big wrap party. No big deal. But, of course, the scenery would be more beautiful with you in a bathing suit.

That is definitely flirting.

Jordan1313: I’m gonna go grab a beer. Can you hold on?

And
that
is definitely flirting.

AngelCharlie: Of course. I could use a glass of wine myself.

Jordan1313: Now, no getting cut off.

AngelCharlie: If I do, wait for me.

I run downstairs, open a bottle of Clos du Bois Merlot, pour myself a glass, and happily take the glass and the bottle back upstairs with me.

When I get back Jordan is writing:

Jordan1313: Doo, dee, doo, doo, dee, doo…such a girl…you make me wait for you…

AngelCharlie: What was I gone for? A minute?

Jordan1313: Hey, if you thought that was only a minute, you’d think I was a genius in bed.

Oh. My. God.

AngelCharlie: I would, huh?

Jordan1313: I’m sorry. I’m getting flirty, aren’t I? You can just ignore me.

AngelCharlie: I can’t imagine being able to ignore you. So what are you wearing?

Jordan1313: Tonight, I’ve moved on to a bridesmaid’s dress and flip-flops.

AngelCharlie: I hate you.

Jordan1313: Why?

AngelCharlie: Well, for one thing, you’ve killed any chances I’ve had of flirting. And, for another thing, you’ve just reminded me of being a maid of honor at a wedding in two weeks.

Jordan1313: Wow. Maid of honor. I was a maid of honor once.

I wait a moment before I type.

AngelCharlie: I have no response to that. You’ve rendered me speechless.

Jordan1313: Proving again that you would think I’m great in bed—it being so easy to render you speechless. No, I was a male maid of honor for my sister’s wedding. I got to wear a tuxedo.

AngelCharlie: Well, then you managed to avoid the worst part of being a bridesmaid—the outfit.

Jordan1313: God, for me the worst part was how crazed my sister got. Has your friend called you in hysterics and made you come over to see how one bridesmaid’s dyed-to-match shoes are half a shade lighter than the other bridemaid’s dyed-to-match shoes?

AngelCharlie: SOL (Smiled out loud.) I know you’re telling the truth about being a maid of honor. You’ve just used the words “dyed-to-match shoes” in a sentence.

Jordan1313: Wait—this’ll really impress you. Teal. Puce. Fuchsia.

AngelCharlie: SOL. But you’re a photographer. You could have know those colors anyway.

Jordan1313: Hmmm…

I wait. I assume he’s typing something. After about thirty seconds this pops up…

Jordan1313: Registry (a word that goes with the sentence, “What the hell was she thinking? Moss-colored plates?”) Seating chart (which goes with, “You can’t put those two anywhere near each other. They had a fight in 1952.”) Response card (which goes well with, “Oh my God, they’re bringing their children. The kids aren’t on the invitation.” and “He’s bringing a date. The invitation specifically didn’t say ‘plus one’.”)

AngelCharlie: LOL. You really were a maid of honor. I’m gonna guess your mother made the plates comment.

Jordan1313: Yeah. My sister and mom don’t have the best relationship. It’s not bad, they just always seem to be picking at each other.

AngelCharlie: What a shock. You’ve just described every woman and her mother I’ve ever met. It’s my sister’s wedding, too. A little over two weeks from now, so I would say the craziness has started, but it started when she announced her engagement six weeks ago.

Jordan1313: Well, at least you get it over with in two months. Mine took over a year. And, I got to tell you, the brother has to remain calm no matter what. So, what are you wearing?

Hmmmm…

AngelCharlie: A red velvet teddy and high-heeled pumps.

Jordan1313: I meant to the wedding. But…Ouch.

AngelCharlie: Why ouch? What’s wrong with it?

Jordan1313: No, no—ouch. It’s a guy expression. It means I’ve got a visual that will sustain me until tomorrow night’s party. How about…Damn!

I can’t think of anything to write. I just stare at the screen. Finally I decide:

You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.—Wayne Gretzky

AngelCharlie: I’m tired of typing. Do you want to just pick up the phone, and call me?