The last day and a half since my my “lonely girl” post have brought more crying and coughing. Sometimes hearts get heavier and heaviest, and there’s nothing to do but strain under the weight. These friends are helping to gently lighten the load:
*Steve with jokes and checking ins
*Rebecca with with kisses all over my snotty, teary face
*Heather, James and Travis with their very distinctive comments on my last entry
*Mikey with an invite to be his TV buddy
*Allison (my dear Internet friend) with a long, loving email
*Another Internet friend writing a small, sweet email
*My classmates and colleagues insisting that I go home and get well, and being really understanding about the whole “crying a lot” thing (On Thursday I cried in class. Twice.)
*A package in the mail from my elderly NY friend Eddie containing a wolf shirt and a pink NYC baseball cap
It’s very rare that I get hit so hard. Thank you friends, for reminding me that I have friends. I think (hope?) I’ll be normal again soon.

I am sick. Again. Sicker than last time. It’s depressing. I’ve gone in late or left early from school every day this week, which makes me feel like the flakiest lady ever. And I’ve been on this horrible crying jag for the last 24 hours or so. It started last night when I was at Steve’s and he told me that my spirit animal was played out. Today the following things made me cry:
*The First Grade team decided to go on a field trip to a farm tomorrow. The thought of standing around outside all day and trying to stop kids from picking up newts got me going. Plus I’m supposed to meet with another teacher for an assignment tomorrow, so going on a field trip would force us to meet at school on Sunday to reschedule. I do not want to go to school on Sunday! Luckily my very kind and generous mentor teacher excused me from the field trip (and told me to to go home today and sleep). Her niceness then made me cry.
*As I was leaving school I stopped by the library, where the nice librarian gave me suggestions on how to rid myself of this cold. She asked if I had anyone at home to take care of me. I don’t, so I cried. (The family I live with just left for a 2 week vacation.)
*Driving home I just cried for no reason.
*At noon I had to meet two of my classmates for a project downtown, and as soon as I saw them I cried. They gave me hugs and tried to make me go home and sleep, but I just can’t let sickness make me fall behind in school, so I stuck it out. We had lunch together and I cried a little more.
It had been about an hour since my last cry. I have a three hour class to get through before I can go home and lie down, and I am very seriously hoping that there are no more tears in me. I think the combination of sickness and lots of school busyness has run me down. But on a deeper level I have been feeling really disconnected from my friends lately. My most irritating (to me and others) character flaw is my need for a lot of love and reassurance. I wish that I was better at tapping an inner reservoir or whatever, but I’m not. I need a lot of feedback from my friends and family that they love me and want me in their lives, and when I don’t feel it, I become the lonliest girl alive. Okay, that’s an overstatement, but it does make me sad. I try to give out a lot of love and reassurance to the people I care about in order to maintain some sort of balance. And of course when things are going smoothly I need it all less. I am conscious of this flaw, and I am actively working on patching it up. But damn. I sure feel awful now. I miss my friends.

The next morning we had a very hungover Bridesmaid Brunch at Liz’s. Heather cooked eggs, and by god, it was the first time in my life that I ever enjoyed eating them! I’m not vegan, but I think eggs are weird and generally avoid them. Heather did something magical with a whisk, and next thing you know I’m eating light, fluffy goodness. I’m a new woman, folks. A new egg-eating woman.
Fast forward through lots of preparations and taking of taxis to the rehearsal dinner at 826 NYC, aka the Brooklyn Superhero Supply Store:

We ate much delicious food, and many good friends from Denver showed up, which made me pee-my-pants happy. Now. A few years ago Liz made it know that if she ever got married she wanted a choreographed dance at her reception, like in a teen movie. Ever since her engagement was announced, Heather and I have been planning for this. We watched many dance movies as “research’: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Dirty Dancing, Flashdance, Fame, Footloose, 13 Going on 30, etc., and had many great ideas. Unfortunately, our Denver friends stole our thunder by creating just such a dance for our friend Andy’s wedding just a couple of months ago. Grr! We were forced to regroup. Footloose was out, so what could take it’s place? After much consideration, we decided on a Medieval Court Dance. A Knight’s Tale is J’s favorite movie (J is the groom, btw), so we knew it would go over well. Only how would we teach it to many guests without the bride and groom copping on? We decided to tell a lie. Or rather, I lied.
I told Liz that I had prepared a song/choral reading (the most obnoxious, flaky thing I could think of, ie Classic Willow), and that she and J needed to leave the Rehearsal Dinner for an hour so I could teach it to the guests. Yes, I made the bride and groom leave their own party. I thought Liz would be pissed in a “why does Willow always make things complicated and dumb?” way, but she actually agreed without a fuss. As soon as they were out the door, Heather and our friend Alana got busy teaching us the routine they’d created:

Note if you will, the bow and curtsy. Oh yeah, we were court dancing. 45 minutes later 12 couples had learned the routine, and we were busy cleaning when Liz and J returned to the party.
Heather and I stayed with Liz in the Bridal Suite that night, all three of us lined up in the lovely king sized bed. The next day was Wedding Day. We all got manicures and pedicures, and the persistent Korean ladies even convinced me to get my legs waxed (I haven’t shaved in six years)! Liz went to get her hair done, and the rest of us started hair and makeup at the hotel. I have been experiencing a 2 month break-out on my forehead, and Kelly scared the shit out of my by insisting that I need to see a dermatologist and go on crazy meds to clear it up. Yikes!!! She also did me the great service or applying my makeup in such a way that said acne was rendered unnoticeable. Thanks, Kel!
Here’s Kelly making up Liz (whose skin was flawless):

Pretty soon we were whisked into a gigantic SUV limousine, where we drank champagne and made many jokes about running away to Vegas instead. Lots of “it’s not worth it, Liz! You’re throwing your life away!” Funny. Once at Prospect Park we did photos and then piled back into the limo while the guests arrived. Liz was not nervous at all, which made us all glad.
Finally the Wedding Captain knocked on the window and told us it was time. Everything after that is a beautiful blur. The ceremony was intimate and very reflective of Liz and J. The officiant (who is a representative of the Brooklyn Ethical Society) read some words that Liz and J had written about each other, and J’s statement made me cry. He described the funny way she shops for groceries and how she is so generous, and such a smart lady, and it was so clear that he “gets” her in the way that you hope your best friend will be gotten someday. I read a poem, Krista and her sisters sang a song, and J kissed the bride. Boom! They were married!
Here is the reception in bullet points:
* I quickly became tipsy (which is maybe why I only remember the reception in bullet points!)
* Many toasts were made, and they were all wonderful and unique, but fit together in a cool way. Mine was a little bit rambling, but no one seemed to mind. Heather talked about when she and Liz were little girls, Kelly about their adventures in college and then as roommates in New York, Krista wrote a hilarious and touching rhyming poem, and Jenny wrapped it all up with a comment on the notion of soul-mates, and how Liz and J gave her hope.
* My old swing dance partner Mitch was there, and we did a lot of fancy dancing when there was no one else on the dance floor. Mild to moderately embarrassing. Whatever.
* Abby made the wedding cake, which was comprised of 200 AMAZING cupcakes. Were they the best cupcakes I have ever eaten? Yes they were. In fact, over the next 24 hours, I ate at least ten. They were that good.
* Liz and J danced to this really sweet song called “You You You You You” by a Magnetic Fields side project, then they danced with their parents to “Dream Operator” by the Talking Heads.
Eventually I took the microphone and said something like this, “Liz, J, this is such a special night. And, I know I made a toast already, but there is so much more I need to say! Can you come up here, please? Thanks. Yeah, so I want to tell you how I feel, but I just don’t have the words… I need some help… I need some friends… I need some music…” The DJ started the song, the dancers gathered on the floor, I lay down the mic, found my partner, and we all bowed and curtseyed. And then we did a court dance. And it was awesome. Liz and J were thrilled, and other guests were bewildered or amused. As soon as I get photos I’ll post them. Friends, I tell you, it was a complete success.
So things wound down, Liz and J went off to the hotel, and a handful of us wound up at a bar a few blocks away. I drank more, started to fall asleep (read: pass out) on my barstool, and we headed back to Kelly’s apartment where I crashed on her bed while dudes partied all around me for another few hours. It was wonderful.

Okay, let me tell you a little bit about my weekend in New York. I arrived at JFK VERY early on Thursday morning. While waiting for the Air Train, I befriended a Tibetan Buddhist Monk who was touring with the Dali Lama. He said that he gets searched at nearly every airport and he tells the security people, “I am not a terrorist! I believe in peace and loving kindness!” They search him anyway. We sat together on the subway and talked about the nature of forgiveness, about teaching, about war. He asked me if I had hope, and I said sometimes I do. After an hour and half on the train together, we parted ways. We exchanged phone numbers and “good lucks,” and he gave me a photo of the Dali Lama to frame. When I arrived at Liz’s house I was exhausted and dirty. Heather was there (yay!), and Liz’s mom, who started listing the things we needed to get done before the wedding as soon as I walked in. Heather stood behind her mouthing the words “don’t worry!” I took a nap and a shower, and then Heather and I went into Manhattan to run errands. The first stop was the Chelsea Flower Market. Heather is a florist, and her shop was doing the flowers for the wedding. (In case I forget to mention this later: The flowers turned out SO well. Honestly. They were beautiful.) After tracking down the right vases and beads, we took a taxi to the Irish Pub where I used to work.
Part of me wanted to avoid the place. I worked there for a year and a half, and I was pretty depressed at the time. Waitressing and bartending 50 hours a week sucked all of my creative energy, and I worried about money constantly. There were a few girls I worked with that became close friends, and one customer that became a surrogate grandfather. These were the people I wanted to see, so I swallowed my inhibitions and made the visit. Amanda and Suzanne were working- my favorite ladies. The owner was there as well, and he gave me a warm greeting. Heather and I sat at the bar and ate veggie burgers while the girls caught me up on a year’s worth of gossip. It was pretty awesome. Also sitting at the bar was this English guy I used to make out with sometimes. He’s captain of the soccer team our bar sponsored, and though generally a nice guy he’s prone to bouts of sullenness, which used to drive me crazy. Anyway. It was a funny coincidence that he was there, and I acted sort of bratty to him, which I now regret. I was disappointed that Eddie wasn’t there, but I saw him on the street as we were leaving, which made me so happy I got a little teary. Eddie is a 70-something year old man who is an elevator operator in the apartment building next door to my Pub. He comes in for happy Hour every day after work, and he is just the sweetest man ever. Here are some facts about Eddie:
*He grew up in Hell’s Kitchen, and has MANY connections to the Irish Mafia there (though he himself was never a member)
*He was an Iron Worker for many years, and helped to build skyscrapers. He and his buddies would use the crane to deliver beer to themselves after work, 50 stories in the air
*He is a perfect gentleman
*His hands are enormous and soft
*He always tipped me at least $10, and occasionally as much as $50.
Eddie and I felt very protective of each other, and would always greet each other “My friend!” We spent a Thanksgiving together, and he is one of the people I miss most when I think of New York. When I saw him on the street he was delighted. Amanda says he asks about me nearly every day. He had bought me a t-shirt with a wolf on it, and was worried that he didn’t have it with him to give to me. I reassured him that I would visit again soon. He told me that I was a “real special lady,” and I told him that he was my friend. I get really scared that Eddie will die before I see him again. He drinks a lot.
Okay, that was quite a digression. Sorry. After the Pub we went to the Dirty Store to buy more junk for the Bachelorette party, and then to H&M for a whirlwind shopping spree. That store is so good. We were in a hurry, so I was only able to find two shirts that fit right, but damn, they’re nice. And so cheap! Completely laden with bags we hopped on the N train back to Brooklyn for the Hen Night. Here are some pics:



There are more awesome photos on my Flickr page. They’re pretty tame, if you can believe it. I have plenty more on my iphoto that are Not To Be Shared! We had one of those Pure Romance parties where the lady comes and passes around a bunch of sexy products and then you can order what you want in the privacy of your living room. Sorta like a Tupperware Party, only dirtier. Afterwards we went to the East Village to sing karaoke, and drink cocktails. I realized how Portlandized I’ve become when I found myself exclaiming over the $6 I had to fork out for a bottle of Corona. New York will suck you dry, man! After we had sung our hearts out (I scandalized Liz’s lesbian cousin with my super-raunchy performance of “Secret Agent Man”) we went over to my favorite NYC bar, Niagara. Heather’s brother Caleb works there, and he bought us drinks and put up with our “woo hoos” for a while. Finally, exhausted and drunk, we took a taxi back to Brooklyn.
Thus ends part one of the Wedding Story. I’ll finish up tomorrow with more stories and pictures.
PART TWO SPOILER: I did not make out with any boys at the wedding.
See you tomorrow.

Let me just say, This Wedding Was Perfect. Bachelorette party: Perfect. Rehearsal dinner: Perfect. Weirdly large limousine that brought us to the wedding: Perfect (great mix of marble and neon!) Wedding ceremony: Perfect. Toasts, choreographed dance, wedding cupcake tier, fine wine and champagne: Perfect.
I have photos to share and stories to tell, but I am still without available internet at my home, and my coffee shop closes at 7. Sigh. Tomorrow I’ll have some time after class to take advantage of college wireless, and I’ll post some details then. Volume III will probably come on Friday. In the meantime, here are the hens at the hen party:

I am posting from Portland International Airport, thanks to Free Wireless. Woo hoo! It is very exciting. I am pretending to be not at all nervous about the news story I saw just before leaving my house. A JeBlue aircraft caught on fire today as it was landing, but everyone was okay, but still. I’m flying JetBlue. I don’t want my plane to catch on fire, honestly. (And yes, I am flying JetBlue.) I don’t normally get nervous, but man! I really don’t want to miss Liz’s wedding! Here is a link to my thoughts about flying.
Liz doesn’t have Internets at her apartment, so the next time I post it will probably be a biggie with photos, sappiness, and tales of debauchery.
In the meantime, here are some brief updates:
*My crush list is done. There are no more names on it. What the hell? I always have a crush on SOMEONE, but suddenly I got nothing! Well, not in the “active crush” column, anyway. I got a couple dormant crushes on people who live in other states and stuff. But no one to flirt with or go on dates with. This may be a first for me.
*I am no longer sick. I like kids again.
*A have decided to go braless to the wedding. I could not find a bra that worked with my bridesmaid dress. Cross your fingers that I don’t post next week with a “my boob fell out of my dress when I was giving a touching toast, and it was captured on film, and Liz’s grandma fainted” story.
*I have a lot of homework that is not gonna get done this weekend. I am at peace with this.
*I went back to the concertina store, and my little squeezebox is gone. I’m sort of relieved, it was eating me alive! (Also I got a good lead on an $84 instrument on the WWW.)
*The plane is boarding, goodbye!

I’m going through one of my periodic “I miss all of my friends, even the ones I see all the time, and I am so sad that every single person I love doesn’t live right on my street and eat dinner at my house every night” phases. Being in school makes me sorta lonely. I imagine all of my friends having constant parties that are really fun, and rapidly forgetting about me while I work through mounds of homework.
I know I’ve said this before, but I wish that Time was more malleable. I wish I could stretch out this afternoon to fit in another four hours, so I could finish all of my readings and go out on the town tonight with a clear conscience. I also wish I could move backward and forward on my own personal timeline, os that when I get stressed out and overwhelmed I could simply take a quick trip back to the summer of ’99 when I was a camp counselor and was briefly and completely content with my world. And when I miss old friends I could return to happy times together, and just look at them. I would still want to live my life here in the present, and I wouldn’t want to know my future, I would just occasionally dip into my past.
I don’t know if I would want to observe moments or relive them. It would be great to experience those first kisses with Martin on New Years Eve again, or spend a couple hours watching a movie with my head resting on Liz’s knees. But the logistics of that would get sticky, I think. Because would I be experiencing it as if it were the first time, or knowing that I was a Future Willow coming back for seconds? And if so, would that heighten or ruin the magic of the moment? That’s something that would have to be worked out.
I would love to return to awesome parties or clubs that have since closed down. I’d love to have a real 3-D look at Stephen before he had dread locks, or Sam when her hair was still mauve. I’d love to see my younger self and touch her face and love her, and give her the sympathy and forgiveness that she couldn’t give herself. (I’d love my future self to give me that gift now…) I’d love to pet my dead kitties and hug my dead grandparents. I wouldn’t try and meddle with my life or anyone elses. I would be so gentle.
Instead I will try to finish my homework early enough in the day tomorrow that I can call some old friends on the phone and remind them of funny things that happened to us together, and tell them that I love them. And I will try to remember that in less than a year I will have my MAT and my friends will still be my friends and we will have plenty of parties and good times.
If anyone is working on a time travel machine though, do you think you could speed it up a little? Thanks.

I have a cold. Remember when I mentioned that I was getting a cold? Well, now it is here. Full throttle. It’s not that bad-just sniffles and sore throat, really. But still. I bet if I was working in a sterile lab I would not have a stupid cold. No sir. I would instead have a HotNerd scientist boyfriend/lab partner and we would be working on a cure for something or something. Instead I’ve got germy 6 year olds touching me all day with their germy hands and now I’m a big snotty germ. Gross.
In non-germ news, Liz’s wedding is Coming Right Up. In addition to the great honor of being a bridesmaid, I also have the following honors to look forward to:
*Reading a effing rad poem during the ceremony (I campaigned for a recitation of the words to “In Your Eyes” by Eric Clapton or whoever, but Liz incredibly declined. I know. I was like, “what?”)
*Sharing a fancy hotel room with Liz the night before the wedding. Just the two of us. This will allow me the opportunity to a) talk her out of it, b)convince her to marry me instead, and c)promote the idea of kibbutz living. Or maybe we will just watch movies and talk about the old days.
*Two other honors that involve bachelorette party plans and other secret plans that I cannot post on the Internet at this time. I will (maybe) reveal the execution of these plans in a future post.
I’m so excited. I know it seems from this entry that I intend to sabotauge this wedding, but nothing could be further from the truth. Heh, heh. Hmm.
(It is possible that I am feverish/delusional at this moment. Please excuse me.)

Yesterday I met my Internet friend, Allison at the Belmont Street Fair. Her band, Best Friends Forever performed in a light drizzle to wild acclaim by the fans and random street fair perusers. I gotta tell you, Best Friends Forever is my new favorite band. They have songs about ghosts and President Lincoln, and crushes on boys you’ve never talked to. Their showmanship is fantastic, stage banter divine, and they are the nicest girls you ever met. For my Denver friends, you MUST go see them on 9/16 at the High Dive. I swear to you, BFF will make you pee your pants with joy. Well, I don’t SWEAR, but I’m pretty sure. Anyway, go see them and you will know what I mean. Here they are:

They played at 1pm, which was a change from their original gig at Foxes. Steve saved my hide again by keeping me up on the venue swap, and he became my date for the day. We hung out for about twelve hours yesterday, and it was wicked fun. Can I take this moment to remind everyone that I. Love. Steve. Schroeder? Well I do.
After the set I met Allison face to face for the first time. We were both super nervous and hugged for a long time, but then didn’t really have a chance to talk until hours later at a sponanious house show/dance party. (Before the party we went to lunch at the Paradox, where I had an AMAZING spice sweet potato soup. Mmm…) At the 4pm party, Allison taught us how to Step. You know, like R Kelly is always singing about? Steppers? Well, Allison has honed her stepping skills in all the Chicago sweet spots and she gave us a lesson. It was so fun but deceptively hard. Shayla and I managed to figure out one move, which is simple but looks really cool, and we felt pretty good. Here is a photo Steve took (that’s Allison leading the pack):

Anyway, Allison and I got to talking, and Steve and I decided to kidnap her for the rest of the afternoon. We took her to Tiny’s coffee shop, and learned about her synchronized swimming skills, her push-up skills, her vegan cooking skills, and lots of other awesome skills. She’s amazing. She’s a great conversationalist, really interesting, and just super fun to be around. I love Internet friends! After coffee we:
*Tried to go to a fabric store so Allison could buy snaps for the fabulous BFF armbands she makes and sells on tour. They were sadly closed.
*Went to see Grizzly Man, this crazy documentary which I highly reccommend. It will remind you that:
1. Bears are cute but also ferocious and scary,
2. Foxes are your favorite animals,
3. Timothy Treadwell is an insane man,
4. Voice over can be awesome.
*Picked up Rebecca and had dinner at Dots.
*Went to Portland’s annual Time Based Art festival and enjoyed Adam Forkner’s orb of warm vibes music/video installation.
*Said goodbye to Allison with more hugs and good feelings and promises of mix tapes to arrive in the mail.
*Said goodbye to Steve in a way that involved me climbing /being pulled by Steve and Jona up a six foot balcony and hugging over a railing. Lots of “jokes” about dropping/pushing me off the balcony before Steve graciously lowered me back down. Wow.
So yeah, it was a great day. Today, however, I feel sorta sick. Ugh. Only a week into teaching and I’m already filled with nasty kid germs. Also the weather has suddenly become awfully autumn-y, and I always get sick when the seasons change. I slept for the bulk of the afternoon and I’m packing in the vitamin C and fluids. I’m hoping this will be a mild and short cold… sigh.
Oh by the way, on Friday a parent brought us an ENTIRE pecan pie. Apparently he owns a fancy restaurant or something and does the fancy baking himself, and will be bringing us fancy desserts every Friday for the rest of the year. In the words of Kool-Aid Man, “Oh Yeah!”

One nice thing about my fancy-schmancy private school is that they feed me. All the time. One parent brought me 1/3 of a chocolate cake yesterday. Fancy-schmancy chocolate cake. At our faculty meeting yesterday they fed us quiche and strawberry shortcake. In the morning there were bagels. There is always fine coffee and tea available for teachers to consume. For lunch yesterday I bought a really tasty veggie sandwich from the cafeteria. It was $1.25. I’m starting to see how private schools lure teachers away from public ones. Last year working in Portland Public we got Maxwell House with powdered creamer. And sometimes leftover birthday cupcakes. Oh, public schools! How can you compete? It’s all about the snacks…
First graders make me laugh. All day. On the inside. Their self-portraits? Wonderfully amusing. Their pet stories? Hilarious. The way they squirm and wiggle because they really have to go to the bathroom but don’t want to stop playing? Solid gold. I’m committed to being a teacher because I believe that education is the most fundamental tool for creating social justice. But I’d do it anyway because the kids are so damn cute.
This weekend I will meet my newest Internet friend, Allison. She left some nice comments on Perfect Heart, and we’ve sent a couple of emails. Her band is touring through Portland, so if you don’t have plans on Saturday night come see Friends Forever play at Foxes in SE. I can’t wait to meet her!
Thanks to Josh who emailed me a nice photo from New Years and also gave me the idea of mining flickr to piece together my library. Good idea!
Sorry these last few entries have been sorta boring (i.e. no boy gossip.) I did go on a couple of dates recently, but I’m not ready to blog about them. Soon, though, I promise!