I realized last night that I’m almost always the one moving away and never the one moved away one and, frankly, there’s a way in which being moved away on really sucks.
So, Brittney’s moving. To San Francisco. And turning thirty.
It’s fun to watch her pout and piss and moan about turning thirty, just because she obviously doesn’t know. I mean, shoot, the Butcher and I were watching some show yesterday that was all about how “You’ll never be healthier or feel better than you do in your 20s” so I know the cultural narrative is that you peek (peak… pique… shoot, you guys have me all paranoid now that I know I don’t know one peek from another) in your 20s and after that, the boobs head south, the chin sprouts hair, and your life is basically over.
But, clearly, those shows are not written by people who have actually been women in their thirties, because, dear Brittney, let me just warn you, you are about to hit it. I don’t know if there’s a name for it but now’s the time (well, you know, after you get to San Francisco. No need in buying this stuff just to pack it) to load up on the KY, the condoms, the sex toys, and the BenGay to keep the boyfriend limber.
It doesn’t happen right away, but sometime very soon in your early thirties, you’re going to learn what it was like for boys to be in high school. Everyone seems plausibly fuckable and you’ll spend a great deal of time distracted by wondering how soon it will be until you can get laid again. You’ll wonder if it would be rude to go into the bathroom at work and masturbate. You’ll start looking around the grocery store like vegetarian isn’t just a food preference.
Everyone I’ve had the balls to ask about it agrees that it happens (I hear rumors that you get another go-round at feeling like a total out of control sex fiend closer to menopause, too. I look forward to that.), but it’s not something anyone tells you about ahead of time.
But I’m telling you.
As for the moving, well, I don’t like it. But I know it’s the right thing and I’m excited to hear all about it.
I just wanted to say publicly thanks for everything. When you asked me to be the first weekend blogger at NiT, I was so excited I called everyone I knew and bragged about how I was going to be writing on a real live TV station’s website. And I do think that writing on NiT gave me a level of respectibility and plausibility as a liberal voice that would have taken me a lot of time to develop otherwise, if at all.
The other thing I love about you, and it must have sucked, but I really appreciate your willingness to be human online–to be snarky when called for, to get pissed, to make mistakes, and to be willing to acknowledge them and live with the consequences. There’s a really ferocious bravery in that, especially as a woman, especially as a person others were constantly gunning for, and I find it truly inspiring.
I will miss you, but I’m so proud and honored that I know you and that I’ll get to see you do this thing and the next and the next.