medi/to the/ocre

Wordplay par excellence

My fave play on convention this week comes courtesy of Mos Def.

In “Pistola,” One of the songs on his new album, he asks:

“If you’re gonna fall in love, where should you stand to begin with?”

It goes on:

“And when the fall is done, how bad should you plan to get injured?

And if you land on your feet, do it count as a fall or a jump?

And do it feel like a fall when the hands that pushed you were holding you up?”

I wish everyone knew language was so elastic.

Who just left work crying?

carlyj:

Yeah, sometimes I’m “THAT” girl.

I hate that when I’m really, really pissed off I don’t have a different coping mechanism. I always end up crying and it is never cute.

Good thing there are margaritas and chicken nachos with my best friends in my near future.

This is also how I cope with anger. I haven’t bawled in the newsroom ever, but there are times when it’s /thisclose/.

Why don’t dudes cry? They throw stuff instead, which is also childish, methinks. Maybe we’re all just 5-year-olds masquerading as adults.

For my sister and brother-in-law on their first anniversary

A year ago today, my twin sister stood under a chuppah in a Vermont clearing and pledged for better or worse to her new husband.

I know today is Father’s Day, but for me the summer solstice will always be Sharon & Zack’s day. A few weeks ago she asked for a copy of the speech I gave at their reception. I think I tweaked it some on the fly, and I know I didn’t cry after all, but her friends told me my words moved them to tears. Here’s (approximately) what I said that day:

When Sharon asked me to speak today, I was worried because I knew I’d cry. Anyone who knows us well knows the Cohan sisters are champion criers. I’ll try to keep it together, though, to honor Sharon and Zack.

As a twin, Sharon has known partnership from the day she was born, five minutes after me. We learned unconditional love from each other — always having a partner in crime, even if the crime was nothing worse than skipping school to shop for prom dresses. We never had to say we were sorry, because no matter how much we yelled at each other, the shouts would become laughs a few minutes later.

When Sharon and I talk about our childhood, our memories are couched in “we”, not “I.” We turned the nest under the crab apple tree into our secret hiding place. We stumbled over a hornets nest the day before second grade and went to school covered in welts. We got caught coming in way after curfew, with a few friends in tow, after a party junior year. We took the lecture together, mortified.

Sharon now uses “we” in a different context. She and Zack have made a life together that’s built on partnership through triumphs and tragedies. They’ve moved across the country and back together, survived the loss of loved ones together, and supported each other as their careers have blossomed. And they’ve shared a studio apartment in Manhattan, which has to test their devotion.

When Zack told me he’d proposed to Sharon, I told him how thrilled I was to welcome him into the family as my brother. I didn’t tell him then, but it seems appropriate now, to say — from one “we” to another — that I trust him to love Sharon unconditionally, to make her his partner in crime, and to follow each fight with a laugh or an embrace.

So, before I start sobbing, let’s raise a glass to Sharon and Zack — to their partnership, to their love, and to their life together.

Happy anniversary, guys. I love you.

Not feelin' it