Marrying George Clooney

okay so yesterday was one of those strange odd perfect days. i’ll leave it at that.
so i will share. it’s friday, one MUST share on friday.
in the late morning, i get a phone call inviting me this fabulous amazing dinner, trust me: fabulous & amazing dinner. an oh my god are you seriously inviting me to this dinner, and i say oh my god, yes yes yes yes… and i know I KNOW that the person who called me actually meant to call ANOTHER AMY who is probably a few down (last names) on her cell phone list and hit send on my name instead of this other amy, a very famous amy, well… maybe not that famous, but a bit more known, a bit more popular – an amy who would be invited to this dinner, but, get this…. i say yes yes… i’m available, yes. yes. i would LOVE TO ATTEND, can i bring a guest? what balls huh? i can tell it’s getting just a hint uncomfortable, and before she can say, well, no… actually… i say oh god my husband would love to be my date. so, yes, yes… I’M COMING TO THIS DINNER WITH MY HUSBAND THANK YOU SO MUCH.
it’s in june and i have the perfect dress to wear.
first ‘sorta’ retrograde thing.
second:
i’m in the car and bonny, my beautiful gorgeous healer slash intuit slash brilliant therapist bonny calls me and says: are you coming here? and i ask, uh, what? and she says, yeah, i e-mailed you and said that 5 PM was good, and i’m thinking… huh… what e-mail? and it’s now 5:45 and she’s thinking that i’m gonna be at her place at 5 PM, and that was weird, and as i write this: not at all funny. not a funny story, who gives a shit, right? who cares about this phone call story? this isn’t a funny story.
but the next one even had me in stitches.
now i have to say/add that between my leaving PA to come into the city, and my arrivng in the city, i had my hair cut. and i would like to say with absolute conviction: one should never, capitol N, should never get a haircut before doing any kind of event. especially when you have very short hair to begin with.
in truth, although i never ever say this, in truth after my haircut, my hair looked completely butch. completely. for whatever reason, the haircut seemed a bit kd lang pre 1987. you know, flat top, very straight cut. very… flat top. and i felt so so so so unattractive. honest.
okay, back to my story and i promise, almost done. almost.
so, i’m doing a book event at the JCC Manhattan, the original event was cancelled because not too many folks had signed up and a bit back and forth, you know, hemming & hawing, or hemming & whoring as my friend would say, and steffi the wonderful fabulous steffi from the JCC asks: could ya would ya, and i say sure.
so, i’m heading into nyc and i’ve asked barbara grufferman (the best of everything after 50) if she could join me, and without blinking she says yes yes, we’ll throw something together and have a great evening. barbara is the woman who can make a gorgeous fabulous dinner for twenty with one sardine, she is a good friend and she shows up anywhere and every where for anyone, and has a huge heart.
okay i digress.
so… the JCC. while we’re sitting at a bar right next to the JCC –we hear, from barbara’s friend, peggy, who showed up to have a drink with us pre: event — that the event has been cancelled. uh oh.
i rush to the CC, my bag of books on my shoulder, and i ask:
“excuse me where is the women’s event?”
i’m told: it’s on the roof top.
wow, i think the roof top? wow. the roof top. very west side story-ish.
and since i’ve been told that it’s been cancelled, i’m thinking as i ride the elevator, hmmm, the rooftop? big space. BIG EMPTY SPACE.
and then the elevator doors open and there are no exaggeration, 140 woman on that rooftop, and i am ecstatic. i am so amazingly over the rooftop ecstatic, and i walk up to the gorgeous woman at the sign sheet (YES, A SIGN IN SHEET, HOLY SHIT… I’VE NEVER HAD A SIGN UP SHEET, MY OWN SIGN UP SHEET!!!!) and i say:
YOU’RE ALL HERE FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!
and she looks at me with her dewy complexion and gorgeous face, and says: WELL, YES… I GUESS … WE ARE.
and i only have ten books with me and i think to myself, okay give ’em out randomly, and then i say, I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE IT, i was just told just five minutes ago that this event was cancelled… and she looks at me, and i look at her, and then i notice that the women on the rooftop are laughing and having a grand time and not one — NOT ONE — is even looking at me, THE STAR OF THE EVENING with the dare i say, a real butch haircut ….and i say:
i have a few books, should i hand them out?
and she says: well, if you want… that’s nice.
hmmm. nice?
and then the moment, the big gigantic RETROGRADE MOMENT.
the, “excuse me, what event is this?”
THIS? THIS IS THE GLBT JEWISH WOMEN’S EVENING.
oh. ohhhhhhhhh. oh.
so, this is not the amy ferris marrying george clooney confessions from a midlife crisis evening?
and then the perfect perfect perfect line, the perfect answer. the perfect ending to a completely retrograde kinda day:
she says:
WOW. CLOONEY. HE GIVES GOOD TITLE.