The Color Purple

I went to go see "The Color Purple" on Broadway last night with my friend Brian who was visiting from Chicago. He happens to work for Oprah, so our seats were FABULOUS. I realize I had a few martinis in me, but I cried my eyes out during the show. It was so good! The music is AMAZING! I, of course, bought the soundtrack and have been listening to it since I got home. My favorite song is "I'm Here." I get goose bumps when I listen to it. Some lyrics...

I'm gonna take a deep breath.
Gonna hold my head up.
Gonna put my shoulders back,
and look you straight in the eye.
I'm gonna flirt with somebody
when they walk by.
I'm gonna sing out... SING OUT!
I believe I have inside of me
everything that I need to live a bountiful life.
With all the love alive in me,
I'll stand as tall as the tallest tree.
And I'm thankful for every day that I'm given,
both the easy and hard ones I'm livin'.
But most of all
I'm thankful for
loving who I really am.
I'm beautiful.
Yes, I'm beautiful,
and I'm here.

Oh, how I love my FLAWED self! I hope you love your flawed selves, too.

Here's a picture of Brian and I back in the day... eight years ago.


PS - I had a CELEBRITY SIGHTING before the show... BIFF HENDERSON! (I'm such a dork... I don't usually bother celebrities, but I was like, "Hey Biff!" when I saw him, like he was an old friend or something. It was like a knee jerk reaction - I couldn't help myself. This was before the martinis, too. I think me feeling so comfortable around him has something to do with the fact that I watch David Letterman in my undies. Anyway, because the tone of my greeting was like we were old college buddies, Biff looked at me for a second like, "Do I know you?" Once he realized he didn't, he just said, "Uh... hey" back to me. By this time I realized what a moron I was (am?), so I kept walking.)

Love, Sex, & My Ex Contest Winner - Week 1

Okay, so pretend we're in a school auditorium. A drum roll begins... I just took the stage and the mic...

"Hello. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who sent me a story. I received about fifty of them, which is fabulous! Choosing just one was incredibly difficult because all the submissions were so different. Some were funny, some were sexy, some were heartfelt--some were all three. However, after enlisting the help of my sister and a couple of friends, I was able to narrow the entries down and eventually make a decision.

Before I announce the winner, I want to say that if I didn't pick your entry, it doesn't mean that you'll never get picked. I have a list of other stories that are definitely winning material, so check back every Friday to see if yours is one of them.

With that said (typed), I'd like to present this week's winner of the first ever Love, Sex, & My Ex contest."

A (White) Brief Encounter

by Manic Mommy

The year was 1987. I met a guy the summer after high school, and we ended up on the side of my friend's house, um... doing stuff. When we were done, um... doing stuff (NOT the deed, mind you), he asked if he could have my undies.

My undies? No boy had ever asked for my underwear! To be honest, I was kind of confused. They weren't sexy, or lacy, or even thongy, because in 1987 THERE WERE NO SUCH THINGS AS THONGS. THERE WERE NO THONG SONGS. The only thongs back then were the kind you wore on your feet.

The undies were, thankfully, brand new, and also, thankfully, virgin white, so after thinking about it, I decided to give them to him. Why the hell not?

We went out on a date or two that summer, but when he showed up at my door one night wearing white shorts revealing his own orange-colored underwear underneath, I knew it wouldn't work out. (Ewww, gross, white man shorts with orange underwear. Need I continue?)

So, fast-forward to three years later. I'm a junior in college. It's Saturday night and I'm at a bar with my girlfriends. I look over to my right and see a guy staring at me. I do a double-take and...

Oh. My. God...

It can't be...

There's no way in hell...

His eyes lock onto mine as he saunters over to me and says, "I think I have something that may belong to you."

I laughed and said, "Is it something white?"

Yep. Three years later, we end up at the same college, in the same bar. And yep, later that night, he became number nine!

How Times Have Changed

I'm out right now trying to find an internet connection so I can get an email that was sent to me. (See post below for details.) A few minutes ago, a little old lady came up to me and told me that my skirt was turned up in the back. It's a flowy skirt, so my butt wasn't hanging out or anything, but I of course thanked her and fixed it. She smiled when I did and said, "You should've let a man smooth it out for you." She was so sweet and it was so cute, but it made me realize how much times have changed because if a man did walk up to me and smooth out my skirt, I probably would've punched him.


Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Love, Sex, & My Ex Contest Winner Delayed

Hello everyone! I'm sending this from my BlackBerry. The cable internet service in my neighborhood is down. I'll post the winner as soon as it's up. The entries were SO funny! I couldn't stop laughing while reading them. A common theme? Men who drink too much. Ha ha... Go figure.

Okay, I'll post the winner as soon as cable's working again. I called Time Warner and they told me they're working on it. (I was like, "You gotta fix this immediately! You don't understand! I have blog readers who are waiting on the edge of their seats for a sex story!")


Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Free Book Fridays - Love, Sex, & My Ex Contest Rules

To celebrate the publishing of 20 Times a Lady, I'll be giving away 20 free books--one each Friday--beginning now through October 20th. In order to win a copy, you have to participate in my "Love, Sex, & My Ex" contest. Here are the deets:

Send me the funniest, most outrageous, or most embarrassing stories about...

your ex.
sex with your ex.
hook-ups with your ex's best friend.

Or tell me about...

the one guy you hooked up with on spring break.
that two-week fling you had with the stoner.
the dork you dated with the three-inch penis.

Basically, tell me ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.

Tell me a story you've told your family and friends a hundred times.
Tell me a story you've never told anyone.
Tell me, tell me, tell me.

Despite the name of the contest, your story doesn't have to only be about an ex or sex, but it does have to be about a person you dated and/or hooked up with. We all have bad date stories. We've all done stupid things.

SHARE.

Tell me about your girlfriend's overbearing mother.
Tell me about your boyfriend's touchy-feely father.
Tell me about that guy's brother who walked in on you having sex.

(Right, like I'm so sure it was a mistake.)

Each Friday I'll post the best story of the week on my blog and send whoever wrote it a free autographed copy of my new book. I'm looking for FUNNY here, not Penthouse forum material. Like remember in Save Karyn when I told you about the guy my mom set me up with who put his retainer in while we were having drinks? Send me stuff like that only BETTER. Also, length doesn't matter. (Well, at least in this case it doesn't. Ha ha. Corny joke.) Keep it short and sweet... or don't, if you can't.

JUST TELL ME A STORY.

A few more things...

• E-mail your story to me at mail [at] prettyinthecity.com. Please don't post it to my blog.
• I'll send the books worldwide, so Brits, Aussies, Europeans--DISH!
• Change names and details to protect the innocent. THIS INCLUDES YOU. Sign your story with a clever pen-name, something like "Hoochie Holly in Honolulu" or "Pristine Polly at Princeton."
• Realize that I may edit some of your story. If it's too long, I may shorten it. If it's too... um... graphic, I may clean it up. Think Cosmo or Glamour for tone.

And one final note...

• If you're worried about sending me an embarrassing story because I'll see your real email address and name, DON'T BE. I just wrote a book about a girl who slept with twenty men, a book I couldn't have written unless I related to the heroine in some way. (Mom, Dad, if you're reading this, I'm totally kidding.) I've seen and done some crazy things in my life--I harbor no judgment.

NOW START TYPING!

PS - Claire and Lara... my favorite worldwide travelers... don't let me down here. I know you girls have to have some stories in you.

A Final Mouse Update

In case anyone was wondering, I wasn't eaten by a mouse. No. In addition to having a mouse in my house, I had a worm in my computer and was unable to surf the internet (or post to Blogger) without it taking a hundred years. It was SO IRRITATING. However thanks to <--- that guy, my problem is all fixed. I hope. (BTW, do all I.T. guys look the same, or what?)

With that, I'll give everyone one final update on the mouse. The last I told (Is that a saying? Like, "the last I heard"?), the little bugger was stuck to a glue trap in my closet at 4:30 am. At 7:30 am, I called down to the butcher shop my landlord owns and asked him to come get it, and was told, "Someone would come right up."

8:30 am: No one had yet come right up, so I called again. The guy who answered the phone this time seemed to know nothing about a mouse. "It's stuck to a glue trap in my closet and has been since 4:30," I said. "I already called once." This guy told me someone would come right up, too.

10:00 am: No one had yet come right up AGAIN, so I called a third time. "IF SOMEONE DOESN'T COME TO MY APARTMENT RIGHT NOW TO GET THE MOUSE THAT'S FLAILING AROUND IN MY CLOSET, I'M CALLING 311!"

311 is the non-emergency NYC line where you can report things like SHITTY LANDLORDS. Needless to say, someone finally came right up.

Thankfully, it was a different BSC from the previous day; it was the BSC who has a crush on me. Because of this, after capturing the mouse in my closet he searched for the hole the little bugger came in through, and then patched it up.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

--Friedrich Nietzsche

I know it was just a mouse and a worm, but knowing that I survived both makes me feel invincible.

PREVIOUSLY: To Catch a Mouse, Zzzz... This is Your Brain on Drugs, Another Mouse Update, Mouse Update, I HAVE A MOUSE!!!!!

To Catch a Mouse

Okay... in case some of you don't know, I might've had a mouse in my closet two nights ago. (Scroll down to the bottom of this post for links to the beginning of the mouse saga.) Before I tell you if there was a mouse or if I caught a mouse, I want to tell you how my day went yesterday.

After waking up at 2pm (see this post for more details on that), I called my landlord and told him that I have a mouse. He owns a butcher shop, so he sent one of his butcher shop cronies up to my apartment to check it out. When the guy arrived, I told him the whole story and pointed to my closet, which had been sealed off with a periwinkle Martha Stewart towel. "He's in there," I said. "I know it." Butcher Shop Crony (BSC) opened the door and looked around, but he didn't see the mouse or any trace of the mouse inside. Seriously, there weren't droppings lying around or anything.

After looking for an explanation, BSC--get this--started pointing (because he doesn't speak English) to my vacuum cleaner (which I keep in this closet), insinuating it was that that was making the noise I heard. This seemed to be the only logical explanation to him because, you know, all vacuums make noise when they're unplugged, sitting in a closet. Moron. I told BSC that the noises I heard weren't coming from my vacuum cleaner magically moving around in the closet, nor were they a figment of my imagination--they were coming from a mouse--but he wouldn't listen. I heard chewing. I heard gnawing. THERE'S A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET, WHY WON'T YOU BELIEVE ME?!!?

On his way out, I asked BSC if he'd bring me a mousetrap, but he just shook his head. "Non."

After this, I called my family and friends and told them the story of the mouse. At first they were like, "Oh I believe you," but when they heard the "no droppings" part they changed their mind. One by one, they all tried to convince me that I was crazy, that there probably wasn't a mouse in my closet, that I must've overreacted. I told them no, that Elvis and Bev saw/heard the little rodent too, but apparently they don't count.

Fuckers. Everyone.

Anyway, around 5pm the money that I was waiting for magically appeared in my checking account (yes!), so I marched down to the corner store and bought myself a mousetrap. They didn't have "real" mousetraps there, the kind that maim and KILL the little rodents, just glue traps. The guy behind the register laughed while ringing me up.

When I got home, I put a glue trap down in the closet and closed the door. A few hours went by and nothing. A few more hours went by and still nothing. After a few more hours, I decided to put a second glue trap down with a piece of Beverly's dog food right in the middle of it. And then... about an hour later... I heard it. "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!" (sounds of the plastic being dragged around) "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!"

This happened less than an hour ago.

First of all, I feel justified. I HAD A MOUSE IN MY CLOSET--I KNEW IT! Second of all, I'm scared shitless to open the door. The squeaking and plastic dragging has stopped so maybe I should--oh wait. There it goes again. I spoke too soon. I think the mouse is trying to move around.

I momentarily feel sad.

The moment is over.

Ahhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is so freakin' disgusting.

The butcher shop opens at 7:30am. I hope BSC is there again so I can say, "Ha! I was right. There was a mouse in my closet. And I caught it."

Before I go, can we talk about the box the glue traps came in? I mean, what's going on there? First, the two mice they drew on the cover look like Tom Jerry, a mouse that I--and I think I speak for a large majority of the population here--grew up with and consider to be my friend. Second, what exactly are the mice on the glue trap doing? The one at the bottom looks like he's taking a nap after a hearty meal, and the one on the left looks like he's about to join him. Are they supposed to be dead/dying? It says "Non-Poisonous" right at the bottom so I doubt it. I bet the one on the bottom is thinking, "Seeing as though I'm stuck here until someone comes to get me I might as well get some rest." And I think the one on the left went blind or something and is like, "My eyes! My eyes!" On the other hand, maybe he just has allergies.

And oh yes, and in case you're wondering... I have been up all night--I'm not an early riser. This mouse is wreaking havoc on my life. (Okay fine, the extra-long Xanax-induced sleep yesterday didn't help either, but that was the mouse's fault, too.)

PREVIOUSLY: Zzzz... This is Your Brain on Drugs, Another Mouse Update, Mouse Update, I HAVE A MOUSE!!!!!

UPDATE: This post was linked on Gawker. Thanks!

Zzzz... This is Your Brain on Drugs

Okay... what's the downside to popping a Xanax at 3am? Waking up at 2pm the next day. The whole reason I took it is because I had a lot to do today and couldn't be kept awake all night thinking about a rodent in the closet. But here it is, 2pm, and I'm just getting up. I'm groggy, too, and need coffee. OMG--I'm turning into Elvis. (Not my cat Elvis, but the hip-gyrating fatty in the white jumpsuit Elvis.)

Another downside to popping a Xanax at 3am is that it's the middle of the afternoon and I still have a mouse in the closet.

Another Mouse Update

It's me again... I'm still blogging from my BlackBerry in bed. Elvis slept on the towel all night, so the lil mousie wasn't able to make a break for it. I got up and checked on him/them a couple of times, and when I did I heard him in there again, trying to get out. I momentarily felt bad, but only momentarily. Everytime he does it I bang the door to remind him who's boss (ME!) and yell, "Don't even think about it! You stay in there, where you belong!" I feel like one of those evil people who locks their children in the closet when I say this, but this rodent deserves it. Is his name on my lease? I don't think so.

The only good thing right about now is that the money I was waiting for should be in my checking account by now (direct deposit rocks), so I should have enough to buy a mousetrap.

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

Mouse Update

Okay... I'm sending this from my BlackBerry while I'm in bed. I took a Xanax... I've calmed down. I shoved a periwinkle Martha Stewart towel in the crack at the bottom of the door and along part of the side, so the little bugger is sealed in. Elvis is perched on top of the towel and is still keeping watch. Bev is posted at the bottom of the bed and can alert me if the prisoner somehow breaks free, gets past Elvis, and comes in my room to eat me.

I have a lot to do tomorrow, so hopefully the Xanax will help me sleep and I can deal with it in the morning. (OMG... I can't believe that I just said that I'd deal with it in the morning. Xanax rocks.)

Sent from my BlackBerry wireless handheld.

I HAVE A MOUSE!!!!!

<--- (I'm not dirty; my wood floors just need to be redone.)
OMG... I HAVE A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT AGAIN RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT! (2:38am EST) SO GET THIS... I'm sleeping tonight, all sleepy-sleep in my bed when all of the sudden Bev starts barking wildly and jumps off my bed. Sometimes she and Elvis play in the middle of the night so I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I realized... this was a different bark. I quickly sat up, looked out my bedroom door and into the living room (thank God I sleep with a night light--I do so for moments just like these) and saw both her and Elvis standing guard outside a closet, staring into it.

I stood up, walked over to them and neither of them moved from their spot. I looked inside the closet and didn't see anything, so I shut it. Bev went back to bed (outta sight, outta mind for her, I guess), but Elvis is still paroling the area, pacing back and forth outside the door, peering underneath. I hear something inside making noise, like a chewing, gnawing noise--it has to be a mouse! What else could it be?

OMG, OMG, OMG!!!! I don't have a roommate anymore--what am I supposed to do? I hate, hate, hate rodents. I can deal with a roach--I don't like them but I can deal with them--but a mouse I cannot. In my first book, that whole big mouse/baby rat fiasco (we're still not sure what it was), was pretty much the worst day of my life.

So, I don't have many choices on what to do here. I can lock the babies (Elvis and Bev) in the bathroom (because I don't want them to get it), then try to muster up the courage to open the closet door and shoo the bastard out with a broom.

Okay, who am I kidding--If I see it I'll close my eyes and scream bloody murder, then have no idea where he ran off to.

Okay, next option... I can plug up the bottom of the door with a t-shirt or something so he doesn't get away while I'm gone (the steel wool I have is in the very closet that little MF-er ran into), run to the corner store, buy a mouse trap and attempt to "toss" it in the closet when I get back. PROBLEM: I have $1.35 in my wallet and $7 in my checking account. How much are mousetraps? (I'm getting paid tomorrow. Life's really glamorous as a writer--isn't it?)

Whatever I decide, I'm popping a Xanax first. I'll keep you posted on what happens.

Tutelage

I'm watching Inside the Actors Studio with Tom Hanks right now (I don’t watch American Idol) and he just used the word "tutelage." Isn't that a fun word to say? Tutelage. He was talking about being under the tutelage of someone.

tu•te•lage (n.)

1. The capacity or activity of a guardian; guardianship.
2. The capacity or activity of a tutor; instruction or teaching.
3. The state of being under the direction of a guardian or tutor.

I'm going to use this word more. Just so I can say it.

To Blurb

I'm a blurber. Or a blurbologist. Jeffrey Yamaguchi, author of 52 Projects: Random Acts of Everyday Creativity, asked me to give his book a quote after I listed his website, 52 Projects, on savekaryn.com. After reading the book, I, of course, said yes because it's FABULOUS. So check it out! Not only does it make a great gift, but it's a great way to get in touch with your inner child. Yippie!

My First Real Person Review

Even though the book isn't out yet, I got my first "real person" review on Amazon.co.uk today. It's from a bookseller named Anastasia who got an advanced copy. She gave it FIVE STARS! Yay!

"This is a must read for all chick lit lovers! I really enjoyed reading it and thought it really stood out from the rest of the women's fiction I have read - and I work in a book shop so I have read a lot! It's a great read for the weekend or for when you just want to chill out!"

When Save Karyn came out, I remember writing on my website, "Good reviews are important, but having the people like it is where it's at," and I still believe that. So I hope others like it, too!

Real Album Covers Part II

And don't forget to check out his follow up... Someday I Will Die, Too



"Hey Julie... now that you're sixteen, there's something I need to tell you. I'm not your real father, your name isn't Julie, and well... you're not sixteen. Your real parents sold you to me in Tijuana twenty-eight years ago for 87 pesos and a gram of PCP. I'm sorry to break the news to you like this..."



Five people went into the woods and one came out. Can you guess which one?