My good friend Albee’s younger sister Maria was in a terrible car accident last week in Montana. Terrible terrible. Like things I can’t even type because I’ll get upset at my desk terrible.
Albee is one of my favorite people, and was a wonderful roommate, so I feel sort of sisterly towards her. Maria stayed with us for awhile before getting settled in school in Long Island, so I feel little-sisterly towards her. I absolutely adore Maria. Just being in the same room with her is constant entertainment. She’s one of my very favorite friends’ younger siblings, and if you know me, you know how much I like friends’ siblings.
Any way I could try to describe Maria Dalbotten would sound cliche, but she truly is a ball of energy, a force of nature, vivacious and a whirlwind—all of those ways they describe characters in books, only this girl is the real deal. Anyone who’s met her can vouch for me here. She is a beautiful, kind, wickedly funny and big-hearted girl, and the thought of her in the ICU and unable to talk chokes me up whenever I think about it—I’m sure in part because I’ve been in that worried big sister situation myself too many times before.
But I know from those past situations with my brother that the human body is an amazingly resilient thing, and that having your loved ones rally around you and give you hope is the most important thing you can have. So, if you’re the sort of person to think good thoughts or say prayers, please think or say one for Maria Dalbotten.
Her family has set up a blog to keep people updated about her condition, if you’re interested.
I took one for the team
Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.” Do not go see “The Illusionist.”
Do not go see “The Illusionist.”
New Dork City
They’ve definitely got our number, because my first thought was how excited I was to be mentioned in the same article as Kaiju Big Battel.
I recently spent a day shopping with Maggie Mason. Friends, you have not shopped until you have shopped with Maggie Mason. There is a reason Forbes named Mighty Goods the number one shopping site to ever exist in the universe: the eye on that girl is exact, like a blade. A laser. Possibly a whip. Can one have an eye like a whip? Let’s say yes.
The night before the shopping trip, Heather told me, “She is going to suggest a lot of things that will look good on you, and you should trust her. Wholly and completely. She will not lead you astray from all that is lovely.”
I am so glad I followed this advice.
I’m not the biggest shopper myself; I’m actually much better at shopping for other people. I can pick out a great outfit or perfect makeup for a friend, but I personally always end up in a black shirt, jeans, and ponytail. I am basically the Kristy Thomas of fashion. But Maggie surpassed my own personal shopper abilities in leaps and bounds, as someone with a superhero moniker rightly should.
We went to the flagship H&M early, had it all to ourselves, and little pregnant Maggie Mason walked that entire store picking out clothes for me, clothes I would have never picked up myself. She would glance at me and say, “You have good shoulders, you have good legs,” and then grab clothing and pronounce, “This would look GREAT on you!” and I would remember Heather’s advice and say, “Oh! Do you think?” and try not to make a worried face because I do not at this moment have anything turquoise in my closet.
Then she came right into the dressing room with me and helped me try everything on, and man, sister was dead on. Who knew I could pull off bright orange? Maggie Mason, apparently! I also ended up with this awesome sheer kimono-like thing, and another top that shows way more decolletage than I would have ever thought acceptable. AND THEY ALL LOOK GOOD. After twenty nine years, my wardrobe might be finally edging in to some Claudia Kishi/Stacey McGill territory! Only with more cleavage.
(Boys, are you even still reading this? If you are and you got those literary references, email me. I am looking to be someone’s hag.)
Been tryin' to meet you
Every morning when I switch from the Q to the 6 train at Canal Street, I pass a guy in on the stairs who I am 99% sure is the same guy who used to pick up back-up tapes every day at my old ad agency in Tulsa. And every morning, I look him in the eye and try to think of some way to relay this to him in the two seconds we pass each other. Short of yelling “Hey!” or carrying a sign that says HELLO SIR I AM ALSO FROM TULSA, I have no idea. I mostly want to high-five him for escaping to New York as well, but also I’m realizing with each passing morning that he’s kind of cute, so there’s that. I mean, if we ended up together, it would make the holidays so much more convenient, so I’m willing to build on that. Any bright and realistic ideas, internet?
In other news, I got a new camera, some tan lines, and I’m headed to the shore. More next week.
Cringe on Nightline x3
Word is we’re on for sure, tonight, 11:35 pm.
Three generations of my family are watching together in Texas. I am so glad I did not drink before the show this time.
UPDATE: Here's the segment on the ABC Nightline site.
Text messages saved in my cell phone, vol. 4
Sorry I didn’t call last night. I got into a fight with some punkass in a bear costume.
Did you get my email re: Steveland Hardaway Judkins Morris?
Whoa. Are you like skeksi lord chamberlain now or something?
We all drink our blood one vial at a time.
That is fuckin awesome with a FUCKIN A
16 is legal in Oklahoma Sarah.
John Mailer just asked me out for a beer! And I turned him down!
Like riding the hawkman rocket-cycle at the end of “Flash Gordon”
Dude who the fuck are you
If I kept track of everytime I got bit, I’d need shots.
Fucking A, Sarah Brown. I’m a total asshole?
My new thing: poppers and joles. For hours.
John Candy tour de force. His medallion? Genius.
Her name is Tiffany and she used to have a penis.
To touch a unicorn is forbidden, Lily!
Im going to sock u with a tangerine when u get home.
Do you think any of us will suddenly find Jesus and totally change?
Like Sammy, only faker. Got it.
I am at a party with the hot dog eating champion! And the black widow and spider legs! The biggest names in eating contests really.
Midget sex and GHB. You?
Very interesting. I like to call it the “high road.”
I love drunk scientists! I’m in Tulsa!
Girls into black guys here but not w/me
You want to be knocked around later or should I go to bed?
I’d like to be worth a damn.
Jesus christmas I’ve done a lot of bragging on your part in the last 4 hours
Fishnets. Duct tape. Prospect Park.
Oh, it’s on. Invite all the hesher dudes you know.
Found out at 11:15 that Cringe got bumped til Friday for Joe Lieberman news. Who'd have thought, what with it being such a dead news season lately. So I guess we’re resetting our VCR for Friday night. Yes, we still have a VCR.
If you check the first video on the Nightline website, though, there’s three minutes of bonus Cringe footage.
Cringe on Tuesday Nightline
The Cringe segment is scheduled to air on tomorrow’s (Tuesday) Nightline, 11:35 pm EST, ABC, unless there’s some breaking news that is somehow more pressing than secret gossip from 1992. They’ll run a teaser for it at the end of tonight’s show.
I’m excited to see how they edited the entire evening down to three minutes without profanity, but also increasingly nervous that within those three minutes, they’ll use the bit where I mentioned losing my virginity, thus wrecking my parents’ chances of ever getting a decent offer for my dowry.
"I love Christmas caroling." [Carolyn looks]
Sir and Lady Awesome of Awesomefordshire have got your number, MySpace ads.
Totally awesome. Thanks to everyone who read, and to everyone who came out and packed the place and didn’t die from heat stroke. I was really glad they interviewed me at the beginning of the evening, before my face had melted all the way off. When we left the bar at midnight, I ran through a water fountain in the park across the street, completely clothed. Anyway. The Nightline segment should air sometime next week, not this Friday as originally thought. I’ll post here as soon as the producer lets me know the exact date. This is good, since my mother needs some time to let everyone in the state of Oklahoma know about this change of plans. Seriously, my seventh grade Spanish teacher left me a voicemail the other day. She said, “Hey Sarah, I ran into your parents this weekend, and your mom told me all about Cringe on TV!” Ms. Peña, you rule, and thanks for giving me that Doors poster in 1990.
Bride of Cringe
Tonight is Cringe. ABC Nightline. Heavy stuff. I predict some awesome.
It’s 110 degrees outside. My mother keeps asking me what I’m going to wear “to be on TV,” and I keep saying, “Sweat, probably.”
Tonight she kicked it up a notch and asked, “Is it all ironed?”
I said, “Yeah. Well, what I’ve done in preparation is get it all soaking wet, wad it up into a ball, sprinkle it with flour, put it in a plastic baggie, and put that baggie in the dryer. But I didn’t turn the dryer on.”
Without missing a beat, she said, “I don’t want to hear that Okie ‘yeah’ on camera!”