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When Jenny Met Bossy

A long time ago, in the year 2007 or maybe 2008, I discovered a very funny blogger by the name of BOSSY.  (Her real name is also the name of a state that rhymes with Whore-gia, but she prefers to be called Bossy.)  Upon reading Bossy’s blog, I found out two things A) Bossy is very good with Photoshop and 2) (See what I did there? Genius.) Bossy IS HILARIOUS.

So I began not only reading Bossy’s blog but also commenting on it!  Crazy, RIGHT? I mean who comments on BLOGS anymore?  But wait, this was back in aught-eight, you know.  Times were different then!  

One day, a MAGICAL thing happened.  I wrote a post about my infallible lady parts and BOSSY COMMENTED ON IT!! See??

OH MAH GAHHHHHH!!!!  Bossy knew I existed!  And she knew that my vajayjay was PERFECT!  Could life get any better??

Well, life DID.  Because a few months later, I wrote about how my crazy two-year-old was twisting knots in her hair, and Bossy commented AGAIN!

I mean, it’s like – WHOA.  Looking back on it, I might should’ve just quit blogging then and there.  I know I’ll never be able to top a Bossy-double.

Four months after Bossy’s second comment, I was still riding high on Bossy’s love for me when I encountered Bossy IN THE FLESH in an elevator in Chicago at BlogHer ’09.  Now, as you know, I am terrified of elevators.  Apparently,  I am also terrified of being near Bossy, because I could not say a WORD.  I tried not to gawk, but you guys?  Bossy is larger-than-life on the internetz AND in elevators.  She is soooooo tall, and beautiful and did I mention, hilarious??  I was tongue-tied.  I am not exactly known for my shyness, but I didn’t utter a word.

Later,wallowing in my failure to connect with Bossy, I decided maybe it was HER fault. Maybe BOSSY should’ve recognized ME.  I mean, I was a faithful reader and she’d commented on my blog.  Why wasn’t she all, “OH MAH GAAAAH it’s JENNY RAPSON from MOMMIN’ IT UP!!!??”

I mean, come on. I’m kind of  a big deal.

Shortly thereafter, Bossy embarked on a tour where she drove a Saturn all over the country and stayed with bloggers and slept on their couches.  It was AWESOME. I waited for the email where she would ask to sleep on my couch, but it didn’t come. (Bossy: I would’ve bought a brand-new FUTON just for you!)

Heartbroken, I vowed never to read Bossy again.

Ok, that’s not true, it’s just that I got um, busy? Or something,  and Bossy got a JOB (lame) and she didn’t blog as much and I got really LAME about never leaving comments, and well…Bossy and I just drifted apart.

Fast forward three long years to this May, at Mom 2.0.  Emily and I were trying to look stunning minding our own beeswax when Tara came over and started talking to us because she is SO NICE. (And also? SO TALL! We felt like midgets!)  We had met Tara many moons ago at BlissDom and it was fun to catch up.  At some point in the conversation, Tara casually looks over her shoulder and says, “Yeah,  my roommate Bossy…”  at which point I grabbed her arm and screamed:

“Your ROOMMATE BOSSY??????”  way, way, too loudly.  Especially for someone who had not a drop of alcohol.

And then, with a glamorous shimmer, Bossy appeared.

And three years after my first brush with Bossy, I LOST MY FILTER.

“OH MY GOSH BOSSY!  I WAS IN AN ELEVATOR WITH YOU AT BLOGHER THREE YEARS AGO AND I WAS AFRAID TO TALK TO YOU AND YOU ARE SO FUNNY AND WOW! I GUESS I’M NOT AFRAID ANY MORE!”

{Emily was so anxious to get away from me this point, she almost dove into the swimming pool wearing a white dress.}

For some reason, Bossy did not run away from me.  She was very gracious, and the four of us had a great and funny talk. (Although it occurs to me that Bossy *may* have a different version of this story that she tells at parties. Hmm.)

The next day we even SAT TOGETHER in sessions!  I started to feel comfortable enough with Bossy to even like, joke that I was stalking her when I showed up at her table again and again and again… *ahem*.   Bossy and Tara and Emily and I had a really nice, normal, non-“Single White Female” time together.

On Saturday night at the Versace Mansion party, Bossy even let me get a picture with her!  I stood on my tippy-toes and grinned like a serial killer while she slouched a little for me.  The result was perhaps the most un-flattering photo of me ever snapped, and yet I shall cherish it forever:

Unlike Bossy I am not good at Photoshop. I can barely use PicMonkey.

Bossy, I’m sorry it took me so long to say it, but I hope you know: you’re a funny, classy lady, and I REALLY appreciate you tolerating me! I hope I get to bask in your presence again soon!

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Happy Independence Day!

We are taking a break from Pin for the Wednesdays this week in honor of July 4th. And our general laziness.  However I will still put a linky here in case YOU weren’t lazy and want to link up.  Man, I’m thoughtful!  And to prove it, here’s another gift for you:  a precious video of my older two children, giving you a lesson on what July 4th is all about.

My brilliant children, ladies and gentlemen!

As you can imagine, I’m very proud!
Happy Independence Day!

And Happy Pin for the Wednesday if you’re not lazy on holidays! 🙂

 

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Reading to Remember

For the past three springs and summers, I have read books about World War II.  I’m not sure why exactly.  I know it is partly because I love history, and it is partly because I want to identify with my grandfathers, both of whom fought in World War II in the Pacific, one in the army, on the ground in the Philippines, and one in the Navy, on a ship in the Pacific.  The War fascinates me because it was so vast.  I think it’s hard for us today, especially people as removed from it as my generation is, to grasp how far the war reached.  It spanned Africa, North America, Asia, and Europe.  Australia, New Guinea, tons of tiny Pacific atolls and wakes and islands.  It’s just incredible really.

And the atrocities.  Staggering and unbelievable Japanese brutality towards POWs.  The bombing of London.  And the sickest of all, the Holocaust.

Last year I read a book that really changed me.  It broke my heart and put a permanent marker on it.  A memorial if you will, engraved there.  I will never think of the War without thinking of it.

It is the best book I have ever read, hands down. When I say “it changed me” I’m not being dramatic.  I will never be the same person I was before I read it.  It wasn’t the easiest read, it wasn’t a feel-good read, but oh – I think it is a must-read.  It is called, simply, The Lost.  The subtitle is: A Search for Six of Six Million.

In this book, the author, Daniel Mendelsohn, a secular, non-observant Jew born and raised in the United States, goes on a quest to find out what happened to his great-uncle, his beloved grandfather’s brother, along with his wife and four daughters.  They were killed by the Nazis in Ukrainian Poland – a part of Poland that sort of bounced back and forth between being part of Poland and being the Ukraine  – but that’s all any of his family knew.  Just that they were killed. Not when, or how, or by whom exactly.  They didn’t know if they were together or separated.  They didn’t know.  They just knew they had been killed.  And so a generation later, Daniel set out to find out what his older relatives whispered and wondered about in hushed tones during his childhood.

He didn’t even know all of his great-uncles’ daughters’ names when he started looking.  His joy, in the book, when he finds out the last name that he had been missing – to put a name to that life- it’s tremendously touching.

Mendelsohn’s years of dogged research and thousands of miles traveled paid off, and the resulting memoir is heart-breaking, eye-opening, and hopefully life-changing to all who read it.  I know I’ll never forget this incredible story.  I think I am going to close out my summer by reading the book again.  There’s so much about it I already don’t remember, and I never want to forget.

What books have you read that you’ll always remember?

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