And just when I feel like I'm just simply not in the mood to
update whirlygirl, a little piece of inspiration finds its way into my mailbox, encased
in a priority mail cardboard box.
The return address had me smiling... and wondering... and hoping that I would
open the package and reveal the exact thing it turned out to be.
Another funky DJ mix from Scott. Randomly perfect. Such an incredible
treat with the following inscription:
"Happy Birthday and thanks for two wonderful years
of whirlygirl."
The CD was labeled "Lettuce in a Briefcase" which I didn't even get
until I read it aloud to Brandon over the telephone, after which I burst out into the
kind of uncontrollably loud laughter that I've warned him about repeatedly.
And once I calmed down, I took the time to explain two miscellaneous March days from
a few years ago spent roaming the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn with Scott.
Drinks in Chelsea. A walk along Varick Street. A late night subway to the Upper West Side.
Breakfast at the Strand Diner on 96th Street. Liz Phair on my cousin's stereo on a
sunny morning. A search through the West Village for the Royal Canadian Pancake House.
Writing poetry on packets of sugar. Browsing the Strand Bookstore. But most of all,
our quest to find the guy who sold spinach out of his briefcase. How could I possibly
forget?
I was touched. Infinitely. Touched nearly to the point of tears. Not being able to
wait to put it in my stereo. Scanning the labeled case to find the gems digitally encoded
within. Archers of Loaf. Nina Simone. Ben Harpers' amazing rendition of "Sexual
Healing". A classic Yaz tune. Smiling to myself while thinking of how well Scott
knows my musical tastes... and how well he pushes them in new directions.
But it was track number one, labeled oh-so-subtly as "Theme" that caused
those near tears to spring from my eyes. It was the opening theme for The West Wing.
Whirlygirl has afforded me such an amazing opportunity to reach out to people with the
baubles and trinkets and tiny and large adventurous moments that wallpaper my life. Some are
close friends that I talk and laugh with every day while others are complete strangers who
surprisingly appear in my inbox and make a connection.
But the majority fall somewhere in-between. People like Scott: halfway across the country,
connected by a smattering of crystalline memories, a few random emails, and an occasional
new adventure to breathe in deeply.
On my first whirlygirl entry two years ago I tried to explain what whirlygirl, the web site, was all about:
"Because at some point I ceased to be the kind of girl
who makes the effort to contact those people that drift in and out of her mind too frequently
to count. A place to put all the finely-tuned sentences and random memories and unleashed
verbiage that litter my life. The words have always been there, but now they have a
home."
And now I have a new collection of songs, the sweetest birthday gift, to remind me that
sometimes whirlygirl manages to accomplish exactly what it was created to do. And the
perfect soundtrack to accompany all those drifting memories and questions about all
those people just around the bend.
Thanks, Scott. Biggest kiss.
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