It's all right, cuz I'm Saved By the Bell: Part 1

I was in the perfect demographic for the television show Saved By the Bell. Good Morning, Miss Bliss, its predecessor, debuted in 1988, when I was turning 10 years old. And Saved By the Bell aired between 1989 and 1993, the midst of my tween years. I was completely in love with Zack Morris, played by Mark-Paul Gosselaar, to the point where I was directly responding to him whenever he broke the fourth wall.

When we took a family vacation to California in the summer of 1992, I was thirteen years old and in the peak of Saved By The Bell fandom. For one of the days during our trip, my mother and father had planned a day of sightseeing in Hollywood. We had just reached Grauman’s Chinese Theater when a man with a clipboard approached us. “Would you and your family be interested in attending a taping of Saved By the Bell,” he asked. My mouth dropped open and I looked at my parents with wide eyes, willing them with all my might to say yes. My mother asked the man, “I looked into this and I thought that my six- and eight-year old were too young.” The man casually responded, “Just tell the guy at the studio that they’re both eight. But, the bus is leaving, so let me know now.”

I can imagine that my face and pleading eyes were really hard to ignore. My parents were skeptical, as we had a lot planned for the day, but they had to give in when they saw me drop to my knees and grovel. (Note: I’m not sure if I actually did that, but that would have been my next step if they had said no.)

The five of us got on this bus that was meant to be sandy colored, but was more like the color of barf, with a big sphinx head on top. It was loud and smelly, and filled with loud and smelly people. My parents looked at each other with uncertainty, but decided to just go with it. After an hour and a half of driving around, as the driver was hopelessly lost and kept radioing for help yet misunderstanding the directions, we finally arrived at the studio for the taping. We and the loud, smelly people unloaded from the bus and stood in a line. A guy with a headset started moving down the line. He reached a few people ahead of us, said something to them, and they turned and went back on the bus. Then, he came to my family.

“Those girls are too young,” he said pointing at my sisters. “The bus will bring you back to the Chinese theater in a few minutes.” Now, for those of you who don’t know my parents, when they don’t like how something is being handled, they speak up. I can’t say that I blame them for getting upset about this one. We had cancelled our other plans and just spent an hour and a half of our day on a pukey Sphinx bus, only to be told to spend another hour and a half on the pukey Sphinx bus. I started to cry because I saw my chances of getting Mark-Paul Gosselaar to fall madly and hopelessly in love with me slowly fading away. I’m sure that my tears also fueled the Mom and Dad fire. They began to protest. My mother said, “Now, wait a minute. We specifically asked back in Hollywood if the girls’ ages would be a problem, and the man said no.” Headset Guy didn’t seem very sympathetic and said “sorry” with a not-very-sorry shrug. My parents began to protest in louder voices; then they demanded to see the producer or whoever was in charge. Headset Guy replied, “Look, why can’t you be like that other family and just get back on the bus?” Wrong thing to say, Headset Guy.

When my father gets really mad at people, the whites of his eyes blaze like Judge Doom’s after his fake eyeballs pop out in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Dad’s very kind and pretty mild-mannered typically (My mother’s the pitbull of the duo.) But, my father was white-eyed Judge Doom mad at Headset Guy. I don’t remember the actual words that were said. I just know that my mother and father tag-teamed and lit into this guy for a solid five-ten minutes, until he agreed that he would get one of the producers to come out and talk to us.

Tune in next time to find out if we made it!

The End of Dates

There's an episode of Friends in which the girls give Chandler a hard time because he ends his dates with "I'll give you a call". In their opinion, if he said something like that, the woman would expect that he'd actually call. (Surprise!) I remember thinking to myself when I saw the episode, "Exactly! Just say 'thanks, I had a nice time' and let that be the end of it."

But, last night, I realized that I have my own "I'll give you a call" line. I went out to dinner with someone that I met on match.com. It was a nice dinner and we had good conversation, but I wasn't sure if the chemistry was there. At the end of the date, instead of just saying, "Thanks for dinner", I awkwardly added a "We should hang out." as we parted ways. Why would I do that?? I was golden, walking away, making my escape, and for some odd reason, I felt that something needed to be said about future plans.  Luckily, he must have been feeling the same way because he threw back a "Yeah, we'll talk". (Side note: How weird is your reaction when someone that you're not interested in is uninterested back? All of the sudden, I was inexplicably insulted. "You know what, Spanky? I was not interested in you first.")

Back to the "We should hang out." Why would I say that if I didn't mean it, especially when I was out of the woods and walking away? I don't know if I've casually thrown that sentence out there in the past, and have just never noticed before. When I think about it, I do remember that on dates that have gone well, I've said something like, "I had a great time. When are we doing it again?" or "You should call me". But, if I've been throwing out the "We should hang out" line, is that fair? Am I being Chandler?

On the other hand, maybe Chandler was handling it just fine. If the other person were really interested, they would say something like, "So, what's up for your weekend?" and set up a second date. Or they would be more specific about the call, "I'll give you a call later." or "I'll give you a call tomorrow." Brutal honesty is a good idea for someone with whom you have a close relationship. But, what about someone that you're never going to see again? Does it matter? For someone that you're on a "small talk" level with, like a first date, it seems that it's ok to say something noncommittal and expect that the other person will pick up the social cue.

On the other other hand, I'm not going to rule out the possibility that Chandler and I are both just plain cowards.

An Open Letter to Tim Burton

Dear Mr. Burton,

Big fan! Seriously...Nightmare Before Christmas? Beetlejuice? Both classics. I'm writing because I have a great idea for the production of a movie. The problem is...I have no talent or money. You, however, have a lot of talent and money. Plus, I think this is your kind of thing. Now, that you've broken into the musical business (which, let's face it, is hip right now), I think that it would behoove you to direct and produce a remake of Jesus Christ Superstar. You don't really have to do much, except, you know, finance it and direct it. I've casted it for you:

Jesus Christ- Chris Cornell. This man was born to play Jesus Christ. Have you seen him? Look at this:

And have you HEARD him?? He would be amazing in this role. Listen to any album of his, and I'm sure you'll agree. (I recommend Songbook).

Judas Iscariot-Adam Pascal. Again, amazing voice. Born to play this role in a movie that I'm involved in, so that I can creepily follow him around the set and ask him to sing me lullabyes.

Mary Magdalene- Unknown. I have a couple of people in mind for this. I like Thandie Newton's look. I'm not sure if she can sing. We'll have to test her out. I'd like to get Beyonce in, but I think she actually sings too well. I mean, it's not like Mary Magdalene's songs are the vocal equivalent of rocket science.


Pontius Pilate- Adam Levine (tentatively). As you probably know, Adam Levine will be appearing on this season of American Horror Story. We know he has a great voice, and it would be kind of cool to have Pontius Pilate do some falsetto stuff to make it a little different than the original. I may change my mind after I watch him act, however.

King Herod-Johnny Depp. This is a perfect role for your boy. Tim, it's very clear that Johnny is the Portia to your Ellen, and you're in love with the guy. And he likes roles where he can be goofy and weird. So, everyone's a winner here.

Anyway, give me a call and we can set up some meetings and do lunch. Tell Helena that I said hi and that she has great hair.

Very truly yours,

Melly

I'm bad at juggling.

Having rolled over on my kindle in my sleep and having purchased a book accidentally that I didn't want, I found myself online at 2:30 am on Friday night. I decided while I was up, to check my e-mail and found that I had a message on okcupid, so I logged in to read it.

Have you ever really listened to the lyrics of "Closing Time" by Semisonic? It's a song that's simply about what happens when you're out at a bar and the lights come on and it's closing time at the end of the night. Typically, this commences a mad scramble to find someone to hook up with before you have to leave. Okcupid at 2:30 am is the online version of closing time.

As soon as I logged in, I was immediately bombarded with "hi how are u" messages. I was half-asleep, but still had the wherewithal to cut and paste a standard answer of "I'm good! Listen, I'm not on here to hook up. Just wanted to let you know up front, so you don't feel like you've wasted your time." Most of the guys stopped talking to me after that. But, two guys answered with "That's ok" and continued the conversation. They were both very different. One was 35, had a lot in common with me, in that he loved the Red Sox, new restaurants, and Broadway musicals (in fact, he's in the midst of writing one.) The other, not so much in common. He was 27, rode a pedicab for a living, and a closer look at his profile the next morning revealed that he's obsessed with sex. But, he was also really, REALLY hot.

With Mr. Thirty-Five, I was thinking that I wanted to date him and see what happens. So, I gave him my number to text or call sometime (and also let him know that I was going to the Middle East the next night, if he wanted to meet up). With Mr. Twenty-Seven, I was thinking that he might come in handy at some point, so I gave him my number as well. Then, I logged off and went back to bed.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I got a text from a strange number. And alas, herein lies the problem. I had absolutely no idea which guy it was. I had an entire conversation with this guy, and really enjoyed it. But, here it is on Monday, and I still have no clue if I'm talking to Mr. Thirty-Five or Mr. Twenty-Seven. I was hoping that Mr. Thirty-Five would contact me about the Middle East, and then I would know. If it was a different number, then I would have been texting with Mr. Twenty-Seven. But, he didn't make it to the show. And although, I was talking to the texter throughout the night, I couldn't think of a non-socially awkward way to bring it up.

I have made tentative plans with the texter for this week. If those plans finalize, I'm going to treat it like a game show. "Melly J., who will walk through that door?? You could win a fabulous dinner for two, a possible second date, and a night of ZERO EMBARRASSMENT. But, make the wrong choice, and you will sadly go home with the consolation prize: loneliness."

I guess the conclusion that we can all come to is that whether I win or lose, the outcome will be based on pure luck, because clearly, I suck at this game.

Wine Wedding Part 3: Congrats Sally and Tom and Greg and Emma!

So, bed bugs and bad bartenders notwithstanding, we arrived at the wedding on Sunday evening. It was held at the Ocean Edge Resort in Brewster. The wedding ceremony itself was right on the beach. Patrick had the honor of being an usher. He decided to channel his inner-Usher by inexplicably singing Ne-Yo songs to the wedding guests as he pointed the way.

I cried when Sally came down the steps to the beach. She's a natural beauty, doesn't wear make up really, never dresses up. So, when she walked down the aisle, to see her in her dress with these beautiful blonde curls around her shoulders, she was just so stunning. And the look on Tom's face said it all.

After a beautiful ceremony, we headed down to the reception, where I got to meet up with Andrea and her husband, Erik. I've come to expect oysters whenever Andrea's around, even if she's not the one planning the menu. The Ocean Edge people are just lucky that they delivered me some. After cocktail hour on the patio, we headed inside. Pat and I were lucky to be sitting at the hot guy table...with all of their wives and girlfriends. Sally had told Pat and me that there were 12 Tufts people, and only 10 per table, so she had sat us at what she thought would be the most fun and the most drunk at the wedding. If Pat and I had been sitting at a table for two, we probably would have been the most fun and the most drunk table. But, Sally was right. We did have a great time at our table!

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned before that the reason that Sally and Pat and I became so close is that we all danced with Tufts Dance Collective when we were in college. As a result, Sally's wedding was fortunate enough to experience the easiest and fastest transition between Bride and Groom's first dance and getting people onto the dance floor ever. We were up before the band even got out their first "La".

During a dance break, bridesmaid Tara and I decided to take a walk around the grounds. After talking to some waiters, we heard that there was a gigantic wedding happening in the building next door. So, Tara and I did what anyone would do. We crashed it. Luckily, there was a photobooth set up there. We left "Greg and Emma" a keepsake in their wedding photo album that hopefully they will cherish forever. Their copy doesn't have any pizza sauce on it.

In all seriousness, I couldn't be happier for Sally and Tom. I must admit that it took me a while to get to know Tom, but I fell in love with him that weekend because it's so clear how right he is for Sally. As Pat accurately described, Sally and Tom were on the "verge of tears of joy" for most of the day, which led us to be on the verge of tears of joy for them. We were all really touched by the bride and groom. And then, we were literally touched by the bride and groom. We all received complimentary lap dances on the shuttle ride home.

The whole wedding weekend was so much fun...as evidenced by these before and after pictures...



Before



After



Wine Wedding Part 2: Wreaking havoc on Orleans

I got quite a bit of flak yesterday for my picture book of a post, but I like that because it keeps me motivated to write more. You're all true friends. So, we left off three bottles of wine in and about to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.

The dinner was held at Tom (the groom)'s parents' house. They have a lovely house in Harwich with their own private beach. It was truly a special event that I'm lucky that I got to attend. But, what I really want to talk about is the dinner itself. The food--incredible. It was a backyard barbecue complete with chicken, pulled pork, and some of the best macaroni and cheese that I've ever had in my entire life. The actual people that catered it--new to catering.

I walked up to this conversation between the groom and the bartender:

Tom: Could I have a Long Trail please?
Bartender: Sorry?
Tom: A Long Trail
Bartender (pointing to rum): This?
Tom: No, the beer.
Bartender: (Looks blank)
Tom (pointing to the bottle of beer on the table): A Long Trail
Bartender (picking up the beer and looking at it with confusion): Oh. Sorry.

The groom's father had to provide a lesson to the bartender on how not to skimp on the alcohol. I think that this is all partly because the bartender was 18 years old and maybe not as schooled in wine and beer as the rest of us.

But, perhaps my favorite part of the night was what was on Pescatarian Julia's plate. See, for an appetizer, we had this delicious smoked fish. Sally had mentioned to Julia that she ordered scallops for Julia's meal (even though Julia was perfectly happy with the mac and cheese). When we get to the grill...there are no scallops. The barbecuer, who was dressed in a sailor's outfit with a captain's hat, looked at us like his crew had just sent him out to sea on a raft. He said that he didn't have scallops, but he did have some fish, if we would just give him a few minutes to get it ready. A few minutes later, Julia returns to the table with a piece of the smoked fish appetizer warmed up on the barbecue grill. Got to hand it to the captain though. He's an improviser!

After the dinner was over, we headed back to Orleans to the Lost Dog Pub. Coincidentally, Sally had planned a night at the Lost Dog on the wedding itinerary without knowing that Julia's friend's brother's band was playing there that night. The result...we brought about a crowd of 25-30 people, in addition to the ones that were already there. It may be true that Orleans had never seen this many people in one place.  I passed a lot of time amusedly watching people walk through the entrance, see the crowd, roll their eyes, and walk back out again. The rest of the time, I passed watching Patrick. A lot of Sally's wedding guests decided that this would be a good weekend to try a dirty martini. Most of them didn't like it. Most of it ended up in Patrick's glass. The upside is that he had 8 or 9 dirty martinis and didn't spend a dime. The downside is that he had 8 or 9 dirty martinis. By the end of the night, he was "I love you. You're my best friend." drunk.

On his way home, he and Becky, decided to lie in a field on the side of the road and exclaim (quite loudly) how beautiful the stars were. How do I know that they exclaimed loudly when I wasn't there, you ask? Because according to Pat, after about ten minutes of star-gazing exclamations, a nearby neighbor yelled out of his window, "END THIS NOW!!!" So, they did. On their way home, for some reason that I've yet to understand, Becky went one way and Patrick went the other. While Becky was walking, a police officer pulled over to her and asked, "Have you seen two drunks wandering around?" Of course, to which Becky convincingly replied, "Noooo". Let this be a lesson to you. Always split up after someone yells to you from a neighboring window when you're lying in a field looking at stars. The cops can't be far behind. 

Meanwhile, I was having my own adventure. After saying goodbye to Patrick (Me: I'll see you back at the house. P: Ok, I love you. You are one of my best friends. I love you so much. Me: I love you too. I'll see you in a bit. P: I'm totally serious. I love you. I think I'm going to cry I love you so much. Me: Don't cry.), I went back to the Cove House and got ready for bed.

As I mentioned before, I have issues. All I could smell was camp. All I could think of was that the bed was too soft. All I could hear was a drip drip drip coming from somewhere and it sounded like it was getting closer. But, I said to myself, "Mel, you can do this. Just close your eyes. Go to sleep. You'll be fine in the morning." I don't like to indulge myself in my crazies. Just as I was about to close my eyes, a beetle flew around my head and landed right next to my face on the pillow. I freaked out like someone had told me to put the lotion in the basket. I murdered the beetle. Then, after a half hour of lying there and not being able to sleep. I packed up, texted Pat what had happened, and drove 50 minutes to my mom's house to sleep there.

Just to tell you how perfect my friends are: the next day when I returned, Sally and the bridesmaids had left to get ready for the big day. Pat was still at the Cove House. Pat told me, "Sally heard what happened and left you a present on your bed." I said, "Oh! That is really sweet!" You know that saying, "A good friend helps you up when you fall. A best friend laughs at you and says, 'Walk much, dumbass'"?  Here's my present from Sally:

Next up, the WEDDING DAY!

Wine Wedding Part 1: The Prologue

Some of you may remember that earlier this summer, I attended the bachelorette party of a good friend of mine from college, Sally. This past Labor Day weekend, we attended the wedding in Brewster, MA. Now, being a "local" for pretty much my entire life, I was wary of going down to Cape Cod for Labor Day weekend, which is a trafficky, touristy nightmare for someone who grew up in the area. I had visions of a one-eyed, long-haired, bearded, old man warning me "Stay away from the Cape, my girl. Stay away from the CAPE." But, Sally is one of my oldest and dearest friends, and there was no way I was missing her wedding.

As an "honorary member of the wedding party", I got to stay at the Captain Heman Smith House in Orleans, which is affectionately termed "the compound". I'm not being a Kennedy Wannabe. That's really what it's called. My friends, Patrick, Julia, Becky, and new friend, Tara (who became my fellow wedding crasher in a story that's yet to be told) were staying in the Cove House. This was the amazing view from our living room:

This was where I was sleeping:

That's a twin bed, and as one of the groomsmen exclaimed when he was being given a tour of the house, it smelled like "camp" in there. [Note: It's time to get real...I have major issues. One of them: I have trouble sleeping when I'm not in my own bed. As a result, I did not spend my first night in the Cove House. But, more about that later.]

Pat, Julia and I all drove down together. We arrived at the Cape at 10:30, where Becky was there to greet us. The four of us went to an unexciting breakfast and headed back to the house. If you'll remember from the bachelorette party, we went to this amazing winery called Croteaux. Sally had a bottle of Croteaux wine waiting for each of us in the fridge of the house! This is what they looked like by two p.m.

(We weren't inconsiderate enough to actually drink Tara's wine before she got there, but we wanted her to be part of the group.) Yes, we were off to a good start! Tune in next time to hear about the rehearsal dinner, our night in Orleans, the story of how Melly J. did not sleep at the Cove House and Becky and Pat's "run in with the cops".