ReRun – Because sometimes you just have to

Some of the most wonderful teenagers I’ve ever taught are graduating from high school tonight.  In fact, some of the most wonderful teenagers I’ve never taught are graduating from high school tonight.   They had a rehearsal for the ceremony this morning, but they’re still lurking around the building;  as I write, they are playing games in a classroom, reluctant to leave to the building and all that the leaving represents, I reckon.

But they are ready.  They’ve been ready for a few months. Subtle changes  begin in the fall – fissures in friendships, shifting family relationships, and a sort of impatience with the status quo – but by now, there is no mistaking their need to get on with it, this business of living.

So,whirly girls, ready to head out on this great adventure, listen up for one more lecture. I know some stuff.

Get a job.  Even a small one.   Practice a hobby.  Play a sport.  Keep busy.  If you spend time sitting around, you’ll think too much, and thinking too much is a bad habit for young, smart women.  Trust me on this one.

You don’t have to know what you want to be when you grow up.  Go to college and figure out who you are and what you love.  The rest will work itself out.

Make friends with someone you never would have thought to make friends with in high school.  You come from a small town.  The world is big.  There is so much you don’t know.

Along those lines, sometimes the family you are born into isn’t the family that supports and sustains you through the rest of your life.  Sometimes you have to choose your own family.

I don’t know what the female equivalent of “Bros before Hos” is, but it ain’t that simple.  Your friends are important, and you shouldn’t chuck them for a love interest, especially if it’s not The One.  But ultimately, love is pretty damn important, not worth losing yourself, but worth some sacrifices.

You’ll know when it’s The One.  You should try to go through some Not The Ones first, though, just to be sure.

Life is too short to spend time with anyone who doesn’t make you feel good about yourself.  And nobody but you can make you happy.

Read.  Anything.  But Read.

Girls who don’t have other girls as friends are not to be trusted.

Don’t ever take a job just for the money.  You’ll be miserable.  And ultimately, spending 40+ hours a week doing something that makes you miserable is way worse than eating spaghetti four nights a week.

Stop feeling bad about your body.  You will look back at pictures of yourself at this age and be furious that you wasted a single moment being critical about your own appearance.

Nine times out of ten, your mother is right.

The tenth?  You’re not allowed to say, “I told you so.”  But you will anyway.

Even if it’s not fully developed, you have a picture in your head of what your life will be when you’re grown up.  It won’t be like that.  And that’s OK.  Because what it will be is better than fine.

When bad things happen, you have to grieve for whatever it is you lost.  If you don’t, it’ll come back and get you in weird ways.

Dress your age.

Teach yourself how to be comfortable alone.  Work up to being able to request a table for one in a restaurant.  True fact:  one of life’s great pleasures is going to a movie on your own.

If you wouldn’t want your mom to see it on the internet, don’t let anyone take a picture of it.

Laugh a lot.  Seek out the absurd.

The right decision is usually the hard choice.

And, like Abby Sunderland, there will be people cheering you on, proud of you, and ready to come and help the moment you ask.

love,

Mrs. Dunning

p.s.  Wherever I am, a drawer full of tampons and Tastykakes waits for you.

Tits Magee – Back in the Saddle

Oh Terry.

Not much I love more than a favorite writer writing about a favorite subject.

Unless it’s a favorite writer writing about a favorite subject and then throwing in a page mentioning ME.

She practically turns inside out in delight.

Terry Darlington has written a third book, Narrow Dog to Wigan Pier, to follow up Narrow Dog to Indian River and Narrow Dog to Carcassonne.  I almost flew to England this summer in response to this: 

Terry and Monica Darlington and Transworld Publishers have pleasure in inviting you to the launch party for their new book 

NARROW DOG TO WIGAN PIER

 At Aston Marina, on the A51 south of Stone, anytime between 4.00pm and 7.00pm on Saturday the 23rd June 2012.

 Buffet, bar, visit the Phyllis May 2, signed books, whippets.

 We have so much appreciated your kind interest in our wretched books and we hope we will see you at the lovely Aston Marina on Saturday the 23rd of June.

 Chaste manly regards, love and muddy paws all up your jumper

From Tits Magee (to whom fear is a stranger), Monica X, Jim and Jess.

Alas, the launch coincided with my first day of summer vacation, and, as it turned out, a bad turn of health for my friend Terry/Tits.  (Much recovered, thank you very much and pleased to report according to the website.)

The book arrived, with help from a friend in London, though, in good time, and there, on page 305, Mr. Darlington writes about his correspondence with The Well Read Hostess, when she tries to decide whether she likes his writing or not in his first book (she does, much).  But I get ahead of myself, because page 305 is hardly the point.

Narrow Dog to Wigan Pier is more memoir than travelogue, but with the same stream of consciousness as in the earlier two books, and with the same dog love, but this time a touch more wistfulness.  Not softer – definitely not, I still laughed out loud, and Darlington deftly weaves autobiography with modern day journey. It’s like a second act Bildungsroman.  I admit it.  I love the man.  No worries, Monica.  He’s all yours.  He’s exhausting.  I think I want to be one of your dogs in my next life.  Maybe not the one who ends up hurt all the time.

Segue.

We have a plan.

It involves a boat.  And I think about it all the time, even though it is a long way off. It is one of those gut-check plans.  A double-dog dare kind of plan.  Which brings me back to Terry Darlington.  And his two dogs and his boat.  Nobody was every sorry for going for it, in love, in family, in friendship, in business, on land, on the water, in life. Right?

 

 

Meant To Be

Down around the farm we’ve been watching a new program on the whatchamacallit.  House of Lies on Showtime.  Don Cheadle.  Naughty naughty.  Very funny.  Occasionally thought provoking. Occasionally moving.  Mostly naughty and funny.  Featuring, as well as the mightily versatile Mr. Cheadle, the clever and sassy Kristen Bell, who I knew I liked, but I didn’t realize was my new best friend until I saw this:

 

because anybody who can muster this level of wackadoo is a girl after my own heart. True love.