Dear Tina,
I'm certain in some other life, we met and probably at some
over-priced coffee shop in a cave with tattered iKea furniture. But since we're
in this life and I've just finished Bossypants from a roof-top in Jerusalem
(truth), I wanted to reach out and say, "Thank you. Thank you for making
nerdy-white midwest American girls with glasses...cool."
The writing was terribly witty and entertaining, so much so,
I often caught myself in a hearty laugh sitting in a crowded bus or at a cafe
in the morning when the rest of the room wasn't awake -- staring in my
direction with a lop-sided stink eye to let me know morning laughter was not
welcome until coffee had been consumed. And I've caught the constructor workers
on the roof below catching glimpse and looking at me funny, alone, reading a
book. What could EVER be so funny?
Your awkwardness, approach to life and often raw attitude to
the daily grind of growing up, working, motherhood and wifery gives hope to the
younger not so 'yellow-haired' bee out there.
While there were many great quotes and one liners to add to
a FB status, Twitter, or a sticky note on the mirror, one of my favorites and
becoming oh so popular was, "Now every girl is expected to have: caucasian
blue eyes, full Spanish lips, a classic button nose, hairless Asian skin with a
California tan, a Jamaican dance hall ass, long Swedish legs, small Japanese
feet, the abs of a lesbian gym owner, the hips of a nine-year old boy, the arms
of Michelle Obama and doll tits. The person closes to actually achieving this
look is Kim Kardashian, who, as we know, was made by Russian scientists to
sabotage our athletes. Everyone else is struggling."
 |
Not my photo, Not for sale
Found on Pinterest, ok?
In place of another photo I don't have |
I'm reminded of that time when I was 14 and I was going back
to public school after a year of being homeschooled (which is another story for
another lifetime) and 3 weeks into the Freshman year, my mother sets up a
meeting with the guidance counselor to help select my classes. Why I started
the 9th grade nearly a month into the school year, I have never figured out,
but nonetheless, the day turned out to be one of the most embarrassing moments
(and I say one because for me High School proved to have many, then again,
who's HS experience wasn't awkward?). The morning began just two days after my
female 'flowering,' you know the part where mothers beam about their daughters
becoming women and embarrass us all? The cramps were a crime and my mother was
determined to make me prissy and pretty, so ensued the fighting and yelling and
pulling on my hair as she fluffed in dreadful curls and a feathered bangs
(something left over from the 80s she never got over). I was forced into her
straight skirt with pastel flowers on a beige background with a white blouse.
And when I say blouse, I mean the puffy sleeves, round-lacy collar and fake
pearl buttons that made me look like I was 5 (and being short with a young
face, I probably looked 3). To top it off, I wore big round mid-90s glasses and
had a mouth full of metal topped with wax which never successfully kept the
inside of my lips from being cut open and sore. I was the definition of geekdom
and walking into my high school for the first time was the worst it could get
especially in between classes when all the blond cheerleading monsters came out
to point and laugh (they probably never even looked my way, but when you're 14,
the world is out to get you).
Needless to say, my trauma is oh so laughable now, 16 years
later as I look out onto the Mount of Olives trying to come up with story angle
that will bring in greenbacks from a news network and perhaps a contract to
keep doing this journalist thing I've been doing for nearly a decade.
And well, as you put it, (or was that Lorne Michels),
"[The Show] goes on because it's 11:30." Great advice for across the
board, I say.
Enough!
The point is - your book is 'a solid.' The unsolicited
advice and grada-A descriptions of your SNL Days and the start of 30 Rock made
it a read for the ages...or at least for all the women out there who know being
Beyonce is impossible but feeling like they can, just once, during a photo
shoot for a day because it's awesome. It takes a lot of hard work to be a
rock-star, contrary to popular belief (and trust me, Nickelback's song is of NO
help whatsoever). Frankly, you're a true rock-star in my book, if I had a book,
which I don't.
Again, thank you for being just who you are - and recently
doing an interview with Inside the Actor's Studio. Ms. Palin should keep a
closer eye on you.
I definitely recommend all my ladies out there BUY the book
because it's a worthwhile investment - for reading and eventually a great
coffee cup coaster.
Perhaps one day, we'll have the opportunity to meet in
person, share a cup of over-priced delicious latte in an underground rickety
cafe in a strange neighborhood near the subway in New York.
Until then, from a rooftop in Old City, Jerusalem - Cheers.
Yours Truly,
Jerusalem: filled with relics of old, stone walls and
ancient stories in which monotheistic faith has been derived. As the great
walls stand tall and the holy places are revered by those who live here; so the
tourists flock as if tomorrow is the end and their pilgrimage here is the will
be adorned in the afterlife.
After I walked through the loosely monitored security gate
of the Western Wall yesterday, I saw exactly this: hundreds of people, at any
given time moving as one embodiment to and from the Wall with prayers on their
lips and awe in their eyes. 
