Meg Cabot: Every Boy's Got One

Besides which, I happen to like smart men.

Right. Like Malcolm.

Oh, that’s low, even for you. I will have you know that Malcolm can do a 360-degree spin in midair and not lose his board.

You have got to stop dating snowboarders and musicians, Jane. You’re 30 years old now. You’ve got to start thinking about the future, and date people who will actually stick around for a change, instead of going off to their next X-Game or gig.

Maybe I don’t WANT a boyfriend who sticks around. Have you ever thought about that?

Then why did you cry so much those first couple weeks after Malcolm moved out?

I just felt bad for The Dude. You know they’d bonded.

Yeah, well, there’s that, too. The Dude needs some stability in his life. He might not bite people as much if he had a positive male role model in his life. The same could be said of you. Plus, financially, you’d be much better off with a partner who actually has steady employment. As a freelancer, you are paying a premium for health insurance. If you married a guy who had his own insurance— through, say, the paper—that’d be a big chunk of change saved. Plus you’d have security. And a 401K.

This is pretty funny coming from a woman who once spent an entire month’s rent money on a pair of purple leather pants.

Hello. Can we talk about things that happened in this millennium, please?

Fine. You know what? It’s very unfair of you to throw all that stuff about 401Ks and all of that into my face, when you know perfectly well that I HAD all that when I was dating DAVE, and you saw how THAT turned out.

OK, well, I’ll admit walking in on your boyfriend in bed with your HR rep can be psychologically scarring. Especially considering it was Amy Jenkins. But you’ll recall that I ALWAYS told you it was never a good idea to date a foreigner. You can never tell when they’re lying.

Hello. Dave was BRITISH.

Yes, but that accent had us fooled. If he’d been from this country, we’d have known right away he was an HR rep—who re monger. But really, Janie, just because things didn’t work out with Dave is no reason to start dating unemployed losers half his age—

Need I remind you that Malcolm is not unemployed? You know he got that big Winter Cal Games contract. That’s the only reason he left. I mean, he had to move up to Canada. For the snow.

And the fact that he was a chronic wake and baker had nothing to do with you ENCOURAGING him to move.

Well, at least he isn’t an anal-retentive control freak like SOME people who happen to be sitting next to me, HOGGING THE ARMREST.

Jane, your bedroom still smells like the inside of a bong.

It is so typical of you to bring this up at a sensitive time like this. After all, YOU’RE the bride. I’m only the bridesmaid. Or witness. Or whatever.

Well, other than the “smart” thing, what do you think of Cal? Do you like him?

I get fan mail from Wondercat readers in SRI LANKA, Holly. SRI LANKANS have heard of Wondercat. But not Mark’s friend Cal.

So? Have you ever read any of his articles on land-mines?

At least I know what a land mine is!!!!!!!!!

Just try to get along with him, will you? Because otherwise it’s going to be a really long trip.

No problem. Now stop writing to me, please, my food is here.

___________________________________________

Benvenuti in

(Welcome to)

Alitalia Inflight Menu

Durante il volo da New York a Roma verra servita la cena e, prima dell’ arrivo, la colazione. I piatta che gusterete sono stati preparati per voi. Buon appetito.

(During the flight from New York to Rome we will be serving dinner and then, prior to arrival, breakfast. The dishes on today’s menu have been specially prepared for you. Enjoy your meal.)

~~Cena~~

Farfalle al pomodoro pachino e foglie di basilico Rolle di tacchinella e broccoletti accompagnata da caponata de melanzane e patate

(Farfalle pasta shapes in a fresh pachino tomato and basil sauce Turkey roll with broccoli stuffing served with aubergine stew and potatoes)

Oppure

(Or)

Filetti de pescatrice con potage de zucchine e insalata Catalana

(Monk fish fillet with green zucchini potage and Catalan style salad)

Assortimento dei fromaggi, accompagnali da composte di frutta e cruditees Caffe “Espresso” e cioccolatini

(Cheese assortment accompanied by crudites and fresh fruit compote Italian “Espresso” coffee and chocolates)

___________________________________________

Travel Diary of Holly Caputo and Mark Levine

Jane Harris

Oh my God. The Italian food on the plane is better than the Italian takeout around the corner from my apartment. And I thought their insalata caprese was to die for.

The movie is starting. It’s the new Hugh Jackman! OH MY GOD, I HAVE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN! I AM GOING TO EUROPE WITH MY BEST FRIEND AND THEY ARE SHOWING A HUGH JACKMAN MOVIE ON THE PLANE.

If only the Armrest Nazi would MOVE HIS ELBOW.

PDA of Cal Langdon

As usual, the food on this flight is barely edible. And what passes for entertainment in this country these days is truly depressing. The in-flight movie appears to be yet another romantic comedy about a harried young career woman who finds love in a completely unexpected place. My traveling companion is watching it with rapt attention, as she swills from her many, many bottles of water. She is clearly envisioning herself in the role of the harried young career woman.

I think I can say with a certain amount of confidence that she is NOT picturing me in the role of the handsome young leading man. In fact, her marked lack of enthusiasm for me borders almost on the comical. She is taking great pains never to allow her elbow to touch mine on our mutual armrest, as if she fears she might contract some sort of deadly virus from doing so.

And all this, because I happened to remark on her rather remarkable penchant for bottled water.

Oh, and the Crazy Cat thing. Or Wondercat. How was I to know Wondercatis a comic strip, and that she is its creator? I haven’t read a comic since Mark and I were kids, and used to shell out 35 cents a week for the latest edition of Spider-Manat the Big Red Food Mart. I certainly have never made a habit of reading comic strips in the newspaper—not since I turned ten. The newspapers I choose to read don’t have comic strips in them.

Although I don’t suppose it would be politic to admit that, seeing as how the tome we all work for features two pages of comics daily—not to mention horoscopes and Dear Abby. In fact, now that I’ll be living in one place for an extended period of time, I suppose I’ll have to start subscribing. So I have that to look forward to. In addition to so many other joys I’ve missed while I’ve been living out of a bag, such as apartment hunting, buying various electronic devices like a toaster and stereo equipment, and waiting all day for the cable guy who promised to come between ten and two, and then didn’t show.

Ah! Domesticity! How I haven’t missed you!

But I suppose domesticity can have its benefits. Mark is happier than I’ve ever seen him. He seems almost to welcome the noose that awaits his neck at the end of this journey. Although I suppose when the noose looks like Holly…

And she does, I’ll admit, seem to think about topics outside of her nails and yoga and Must See TV, unlike most of the American women I’ve encountered lately. I even had an intelligent conversation with her last week about Gore Vidal.