“Notes from my journal” is a series in which contributors share excerpts from their private journals, diaries and notebooks.
Lists! They seem to force themselves on me. Lists. Like my day will be more concrete if I write on my notes app on my iPhone or — better yet! — an actual notebook: a small notebook, 3-inch by 3-inch I bought at a quaint Williamsburg bookstore because I have thoughts. Not just thoughts, but creative thoughts! Ones I must write in lists:
Stand up comedy
Like my world will change when I email Mark and ask him advice about the future and conduct my own private Brooklyn coffee shop career fair where I note other people have jobs I want if I only get a new ear piercing! Because that will change everything! Right? Right! I already have one cartilage on my left ear from when Kate broke up with her boyfriend so I must get one because I broke up with mine. And I must get it at the most hipster piercing salon in Noho so when unnamed tattoo man counts to three and pierces a rose gold hoop into my ear on two I can group text my mom and sister on my iPhone and proclaim I have made the move from teenager to classy. I mean, rose gold! My mom replies, “Delicate!” My sister says, “Looks good!” So much has changed since I pierced my first hole on the top of my right ear in high school to the aghast text messages from my mother that I received while at a Palo Alto house party. But don’t worry! I took extra shots of deliciously cheap vodka in case I would need to pull it out before I went home.
But never mind looks — I don’t even wear makeup anymore! I am much past looks. Stand-up comedy! That has been on my mind ever since I saw Obvious Child and thought, “That’s me!” even more than when I saw Boyhood and thought, “That’s me!” Even though he is a boy, we both have a Canon 7D camera with a 50 mm lens, and we both think technology sucks, and we both sometimes delete our Facebooks! And we both went to Harry Potter premieres, although I wore shorter skirts in middle school than he did.
But stand up — that’s me. I could get up on stage and talk about silly things my vagina does and why poop is a big part of my life, too! And then I could cry to my mom about boys not wanting to eat sarcasm with their breakfast like I do! And then I could fall in love with a Midwestern boy who is funny, too! But I wrote his jokes in the screenplay of my life so for the next 60 years we will both know as we fall over in our robotic lawn chairs that every tear of laughter we cry is because of me!
My fly has been unzipped this whole time up until now when I brought my notepad into the bathroom to pee/write, because I live alone! And by that I mean I have two roommates, but soon enough I will have 120, and that’s 118 more than my bathroom is used to.
Anyway, is there anything wrong with drinking beer while lying down? Because now I’m drinking beer while lying down, and the only real adult who is watching me is Anthony Bourdain on the cover of Kitchen Confidential. I’m pretty sure he has a Samurai sword around his waist, and after reading 70 pages of his book and watching his show religiously for years (and seeing him on the street in Paris — the only time I was legitimately starstruck), I assume he is okay with me drinking Trader Joe’s cheapest IPA on my stomach as long as I don’t eat fish at a restaurant in Manhattan on Monday. Because it could be four or five days old! And I had pizza with lox on it today, and today is Monday, but that’s smoked salmon, so I think I’m safe. Also Tony — can I call him Tony? — is wearing a watch, so he is probably punctual, and I’m not wearing a watch so out of the two of us let’s trust him.
The cover of his book says, “Unique … mesmerizing — Newsweek.” And I’m wondering if my life was reviewed by Newsweek what they would say. And if I did get Tony-Bourdain-Lucky with a “unique … mesmerizing” would I wonder about the dot dot dots and what they would mean? “Unique is one word to describe this manically hopeless seemingly 12-year-old girl. The only thing mesmerizing about her is how bad she smells! Mesmerizing.”
But who am I kidding, Newsweek is for losers. I am a list-maker! And I will be reviewed by the New Yorker and the New Yorker only. In comic form. I will be simplified down into outline and delicate shading. I will be writing a list, and the caption will say “Remember to write a list,” because. Because.
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Contact Anya Schultz at [email protected]