Stephanie Lessing

Jenny who?

I was flipping through the channels when “Dan in Real Life” came on.  Just when Steve Carell gets caught in the bowling alley kissing the girl his brother broke up with two hours earlier. That was embarrassing.  But so is bowling.   Everything about bowling is humiliating.  Just the fact that everyone’s looking at your ass the whole time is enough.  And then, if you get a strike, you can’t really express the depths of your joy, especially if everyone else sucks. So you have to act overly fake happy as though you’re pretending to be happy.  And then if you put the ball in the gutter, you have to make it like you practically did it on purpose, for laughs.  They shouldn't even call it Bowling.  They should call it “Lying.”

Anyway. . .

On a much brighter note, I’m on a pizza and brownie only diet! These are my two favorite foods so I’ve been celebrating for days.  .  .with pizza and brownies.  There’s pizza everywhere.  In my hair, on my pants, all over the dog! It’s a glorious time in my life. I found these 210 calorie pizzas and 80 calorie sugar- free brownies in this new health food store that just opened up.   I know. I can’t believe it either. Do you have any idea how long I’ve prayed for something like this to happen to me? I don't even care about Valerie Bertanelli anymore.  For a while I felt a little guilty about deserting her.  I mean she's been on Jenny for like ten years.  But the truth is she still looks a little fat, so why should we both suffer?

More importantly,  next week they’re getting in these tiny little apple pies!!

Back in Business

Okay, so the three men I was telling you about.  Here they are:

Husband Number One:  Early, early thirties.  So cute you'll pass out, and so smart I don't even talk to him.  Works in NJ (same office as my husband) but lives in NYC.  Was at my book party and every girl liked him. Tall and thin with straight brown hair and perfect face,hair and clothes. Great personality.  Relaxed, super cool.  Charming as hell. Could be gone by the time I post this, so act quickly.

Husband Number Two:  Same age as husband one, but not as slick. Very, very cute though, and  much more casual. Lives in NYC. Loves to ride his bike. It's a cool bike, too.  No training wheels or anything. Really funny guy. And not like, ha ha witty funny, more like I'm actually laughing funny.  Used to work in same office as husband number one and my husband,  but switched jobs.  I'm not sure what he does, but these guys are so smart, it does not matter.  Trust me. 

Husband Number Three:  Forties.  Divorced.  So obviously not brand new like one and two, BUT still very handsome.  Great dad. Loves hockey.  Used to be a sports agent.  Now owns very cool sporting goods store in NJ.  Lives in NJ.  Heart of Gold.  Was already a husband, so we know he's good at it. I know his sister very well, and I even went to high school with his ex-wife.  I really liked her, but whatever.  The marriage didn't work, so lucky you!
You should totally marry this one.

Yes Mumbai! Every country has an underbelly.

  I agree with you completely.   I, myself have an underbelly.  But that has nothing to do with why I asked my readers to remind me not to live in India.  I ask people to remind me not to live in places all the time.  And that is because I don’t like to travel. Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of traveling.  And I love hotels.   I mean I really love hotels.  As soon as somebody mentions a place, any place at all, I immediately think to myself, “I need to go there right away, and stay in a hotel with amazing bedding.”   You see what I'm saying?   It has nothing to do with the reasons other people travel.  The truth is I don’t really want to go anywhere.  I don’t want to meet interesting people or eat foods that aren’t on Jenny. The only place I really enjoy being is my house.  My house with my toothbrush and spoons, my computer and all my millions of hanky pankies.  These are the things I love.  Not distant lands.  I love my driveway and my canned Le Seur peas.  I love the pink pillow with tiny white buttons on my bed and my polka dotted coffee mugs.  I love my shampoo and my printer.  And so I use things like unpleasantness in movies to convince me not to go places.  That’s all.  There’s no reason to think I suddenly don’t like India because of a movie.  Honestly, please don’t think that.I feel terrible.

God Bless Aretha

I’m just proud to be an American.  That’s all there is to say.  No funny little anecdotes, nothing.  Because, let’s face it, today was a miraculous day.  There was nothing funny about it.  No siree.

Okay, fine.  The hat killed me too. 

Slumdog Millionaire

Remind me to cancel my plans to live in India.

There are not enough awards for this movie.  Even  Freida Pinto‘s teeth should win something. 

New Husbands Coming Soon!

Dolly’s Husband Store is a huge success!  Obviously, I can’t share any details, (that’s part of my store policy) but suffice to say, we’re all sold out.  Fortunately, I have three new husbands for sale.  I haven’t checked with any of them yet to see if it’s okay to sell them, but since time is always a factor when it comes to marriage, I wanted to let you know they’re coming, just to get the ball rolling. The truth is I don’t really care if they’re ready. It’s not really up to them.  It’s up to us. But I feel I should at least mention it to them.

 God, I love my store. 

And the Award Goes to. . .wait. . .ick

My God, how badly did Mickey Rourke need a barrette. I think that's the first time I felt bad for someone while they were winning an award.  Are those his real teeth?  What happened? See, this is why I don't drink or wrestle.

Dolly's Husband Store

There are two parts I must play before I die.  The first one is granny from “The Beverly Hillbillies” and the other one is Dolly Levi.  I know you don’t know who Dolly Levi is. I had to look it up too, but only because I watched “Hello Dolly” when I was so young, I’d completely forgotten that the main character’s name was actually Dolly.  All I remember is walking around the house when I was about nine, saying, “Well hello there Mr. Vandergelder,” to my sister and parents.

The reason I need to play Granny is because I’m so good at it, I need the whole world to see it.  It just springs right out of me.  Like Jesse could be sitting in a chair and I’ll just run over to him with a frying pan in my hand and start in on him. He doesn’t like when I call him Jethro, but he understands. Now that Dan is back in New York for two weeks, I’m going to devote all of my free time to my costume and makeup and put together a little show.  As soon as I post it on YouTube, I’ll let you know.

The reason I must play Dolly runs much deeper. It’s because I feel I am an excellent matchmaker.  I haven’t actually made any real matches, but I know, deep down, it’s my calling.  As soon as I talk to an unmarried person, the whole time I’m thinking, “Who could I get for this guy?”  Even if it’s just a person asking me for directions, I’m already hard at work.  So here’s what I’ve decided to do. If you’re single, I’m going to find you someone.  A lot of you write to me about your careers and how you want to be writers and all of that.  And that’s fine.  I will continue to do whatever I can to help in that area, but I’d much rather get involved in finding my readers suitable husbands.  Of course I would only sell you a husband that I would marry myself, so rest assured you’re in very good hands.

I haven’t really thought this through, but I’m thinking of starting a whole other website called:

Dolly’s Husband Store.

Right now I have two husbands for sale.   One is a handsome doctor who lives in Westchester in a very cool apartment with a beautiful view of the Hudson River.  He’s very athletic (wind-surfing, soccer, skiing), and funny, and he likes to cook.  He’s in his late forties.  He’s very cute this one.  I promise.

The other husband is perhaps a little too wealthy, and he might have a drug problem, but he was quite famous for a while on Wall Street and he now lives in Florida, right near me. He’s not really a friend of mine, but I’m very friendly with his sister and she’s amazing.  The only thing I really know about his looks is that his hair is very black.  Strikingly so. Oh, and he’s Jewish. So is the doctor, by the way.

So. . . there you go.  I realize two husbands aren’t really enough to open a whole husband store, but it’s a start and I’m currently taking applications from husbands all over America and France. All of my husbands are free, of course. I’m just calling it a store because it involves shopping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

Serendipity?

Dan recently got in touch with his roommate from Boston University, who is now a professor at Bucknell.  Can you believe that?  A professor.  How in the hell does someone become a freakin’ professor?   I remember him doing his homework , but I never dreamed. . .anyway,  if it’s not eerie enough that Dan and I discovered we’re related to a smart person, listen to this:

In my new book, my main male character is a celebrity child psychologist/best-selling author.  Although he is not religious himself, one of the underlying themes in the book is the role of religion in our children’s lives (remember my babysitter, Helen Todd?) as well as the way teenagers see themselves, particularly their bodies, in relation to that of their peers.  Of course I didn’t actually spell any of this out in the book per se.  God and my insatiable appetite were just some of the bees that were buzzing around in my bonnet as I was typing away.  I’ve never actually deliberately included a theme in any of my books.   

Anyway, here’s the thing: Dr. Chris (the roommate) is a child psychologist/celebrity author -it’s true whether he admits it or not-- who has written and spoken all over the country about the role of religion and self image (particularly body image) in the lives of teenagers.  You see what I’m saying?  I created a character who actually exists, and we know him!

If that’s not enough of an ass kicker, last night I ordered in deli, and since I have something of a little eating disorder myself, I’m forced to go without carbs when things get out of control, so I ate about a pound of corned beef. 

When I went to sleep, I dreamed that I was back in college, except instead of Dan, Chris, Howie, Lynn and Harv walking around the dorm, it was all Kim’s friends.  I was looking everywhere for her because someone was organizing a big ski trip and I wanted her to sign up.  So I’m wandering around the halls of Myles Standish, searching and panicking because I can’t find her, when all of a sudden I run into a friend of Kim’s from high school.

“Where’s Kim?” I ask her.

“She’s in her room, but oh my God!”

“Oh my God, what?” I ask.

“You have something on your nose.”

I touch my nose, but I can’t feel anything so I run to the bathroom.  I look in the mirror and, sure enough, there’s a tiny black spot. I touch it, and it feels sort of funny, so I keep rubbing it, and the next thing I know I’m pulling a huge piece of corned beef out of my nose.  It was horrible. 

Just then some other kid I don’t know comes running into the bathroom and asks me why I’m screaming. (I’m assuming this kid was Dr. Chris in disguise).

“I just pulled a piece of corned beef out of my nose,” I say.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says.

 

And then I woke up. 

 

I was going to embellish the dialogue to prove my point about coincidences, but I really feel as though meeting a character I thought I’d made up, who has devoted his entire life to understanding God and body image, and pulling a piece of corned beef out of my nose, the very same night, speaks for itself.

To: Ratammy of Kitty Blog Fame

 

I usually don't do this sort of thing, but I realize that I never answer people's comments unless they email me.  The reason I don't answer is because I don't know how to respond to my own blog.

Until I figure it out,  I'm just going to blog my answers.  So, Marie. . .How are you?  I loved your travel diary and read it religiously!! And no, I am not in Florida permanently.  I am here temporarily because my son begged me to move down here. He thinks Florida is the single greatest place on the planet and wants to finish high school here.

I realize that most people don't just up and move on a whim, but they would if they had a Jesse.  You see, he's only going to be a teenager for a very short period in his life and I want him to be happy.  And also because he wore me down.  And that is why I live in Boca.