By Jen Pastiloff.
Confession: I miss my blog. I love that I have been able to turn this site into an online magazine. I really do. But I’m gonna sneak my stuff in now and again. This started as my blog but when I realized I had a big “following” << That sounds so douchey, sorry, but when I realized I had a big following I decided I wanted to create a space for other writers. But I’ll be damned, I never write shit down. I don’t take notes or keep a journal (add that to the fact that I can’t type and I am truly not your “typical” writer.) Because of these failings of mine, as it were, I realize that I forget a lot and the way I sort of half-assedly remember is by blogging. I miss it. So hi. Here I am. (Also- is douchey an adjective?) It makes me feel like I think I am Moses when I speak of “my following.” But, you know what I mean. Social media and such.
Wait- hang on while I go part the red sea.
So, this is just a quick update. So much has been happening and if you follow me on social media, you know I don’t hold back. I post like every five minutes so you don’t miss much. But in case you did. This is for you.
I have to make this quick because I am almost done my proposal for my new book for teens, Girl Power: You Are Enough. Eeeeek! (But wait, don’t we all need this book? This reminder? I am enough. You are enough. I am enough. You are enough.) It’s like: tattoo that shit on your brain. How often do I forget this? Every time I can’t hear because of my hearing loss and I feel lost and stupid I slip into not feeling enough. My not feeling enoughness ate up years of my life. It really did.
I am so excited by this project that I haven’t been sleeping. Have you felt excited by something like that before? It’s been a while for me, I must confess. It feels good. It feels, I don’t know, like I am alive. Some days I feel like a walking dead person. So to feel alive feels real good. Real good. I met this girl, Amymarie Gaertner, and we immediately decided we are sisters. Albeit she is my much younger sister. She has MILLIONS (yes, you read right) millions of followers on Vine (what the fuck is Vine I ask?) and Youtube and Instagram. Anyway, she is an ambassador for my GirlPower. She is self-taught. She taught herself how to dance in her mom’s basement. She created this crazy life and is living her dreams because she wanted to dance. And she did.
Here she is again:
So that was amazing.
She is spontaneous as anything. Like me. We started walking down Sunset Blvd in West Hollywood and she goes, “Look! Yhat would be cool to dance right there in that stairwell.” We set up my little tripod and, with people all around, and one dude on a ladder painting a ceiling, we danced and laughed. One take. The song: One More Time by Daft Punk. I had to do a voiceover on Facebook because they kept deleting my video for copyright infringement. You can see it on my (or her) instagram though. Damn you, Facebook. Damn you!
Last week I went to a beautiful luncheon for my friend Christy Turlington Burns’s non-profit Every Mother Counts. I met some incredible people and got some sweet goodie bags (hello, Coach scarf.) Dooce was there. She has this incredible blog and I could’t hear and because it was loud and I kept thinking she was saying Dudes. She inspires the hell out of me. And she’s a supermodel giant. Also, her name isn’t Dooce. It’s Heather. Heather Armstrong.
I met a beautiful singer at the lunch named Jade. Jade performed a couple of songs with her mom and dad and it was so so moving. She used to be in the band Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros for years and years.
So we hung out the other day. Jade and I.
And we met the coolest man.
Earl. Earl was sitting on the bench next to us in Venice. I noticed him when he knocked over his coffee. I offered to buy him a new one but he said he’d had too much. He told us he was 92 years old. He started to sing for us. Jade thought he was a saint.
I’m pretty sure he was.
He had big ass hearing aids on. Mine are tiny. But it’s like: we’re in the club.
I asked him what made you happy today?
Today? I’m still breathing.
Well, that should be all of our answers, right?
I posted him on my Facebook that night and one of my followers (there I go again sounding douchey) said, “Earl!!!”
She knew Earl because her husband had played music with him for years. She hadn’t heard from him or seen him in ages and wasn’t sure what happened to him. She said my post brought tears to her eyes.
How’s that for beauty hunting?
God, I loved Earl. He gave us his card. He is looking for people to play music with him. Anyone play the electric harp? I think that is what he was looking for? I can hook you up with his number if you do.
Last tidbit before I go back to my proposal and pour a whiskey. Did I tell you that I can’t drink wine anymore since the cleanse I did with my sister? Cray. I get rosacea all over my face and chest. Good times.
Someone found me because of this video:
Her daughter has a rare eye disease and once, after a surgery came out saying, “Girls are tough!”
She found me because I made Justine (in the video above) an ambassador for Girl Power: You Are Enough. I am a little (read: a lot) obsessed with her 4 year old daughter Cailee.
So, to recap:
1) I now drink whiskey and not wine.
2) Girls are tough.
3) I pinky swear I will learn to type because my arms are falling off from my 2 finger method.
4) This blog has no literary value or point but it does say douchey a few times and that’s something!
5) Girls are tough.
6) I am, and always will be, a fierce beauty hunter.
7) Although I am sometimes a walking dead person I am now, at this moment in time, very much alive. So hi. Hi.
8) I did not part the red sea. I honestly never even had a Bat Mitzvah.
9) I just poured the whiskey so I should go. Bye.
10) Girls are tough.
ps- You can also think of douchey like Dou-Shay if that makes you feel fancier.
1. Having characteristics of or pertaining to a douche.
The Padres sure are douchey.
Dude, that was a douchey thing you just did.
by David July 22, 2003~ Urban Dictionary.