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Monica Bielanko
A chronicle since 2005 of my marriage & move to Brooklyn in my twenties; becoming a mother in my thirties; moving to Pennsylvania and learning to amicably coparent after divorce in my forties while living 3 doors down from my ex-husband in a small country town.
That's What She Said
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Tuesday
Mar022010

A Lesson In Digression

Every year someone, usually my mom, talks about how much they hate January and February and I kind of roll my eyes because, like, they're months of the year, people! We have to deal with them. But this year... oh my God but I hated January and February. It was a real personal kind of hatred too. Like they slipped me a roofie at some dive bar and I woke up as February tagged in with a high-five to finish the gang rape that January had begun. January was filled with The Longest Move Ever and February was wet and dreary and filled with coughing, hacking, sick people. Also? Have I told you about my car? Let me tell you about my car.

Around September or so the electric motor in the driver's window died a slow, agonizing death. I saw it coming and warned Serge not to monkey with the window or else we'd be stuck paying a bucket of cash to the dealer to put in a new motor for the damned thing. Either that or we'd be stuck with an open window throughout winter. Maybe, I threatened, we'd be forced to be the kind of people who drive around town with plastic duct taped to their window and I could write another You Might Be White Trash If...

Serge managed to jimmy the thing nearly closed before the motor screeched its last screech. Nearly, I said nearly closed. As in, still open. As in, I drive home from work every night at 10:30 with the goddamned frigid-ass Rocky Mountain winter wind interfering with my ability to hear Dr. Drew dispense advice on Love Lines. And did I mention it's cold? But, more importantly, I can't hear Doctor Drew tell the guy with the chronic masturbating problem what to do! And what about the girl whose boyfriend likes her to pee on him during sex? What about that?

Incidentally, the good doctor was on Conan O'Brien when Serge's band Marah performed. I was standing next to him and was THIS close to running a hand over his bulging bicep. What I'm trying to say is that Doctor Drew works out, y'all. Smart AND sexy. This was also the night Ice Cube was a guest on the show and when he walked by us Serge said "S'up Ice" with a subtle nod of the head. Have you ever heard someone from Philadelphia say the word ice? I am physically and emotionally unable to refrain from repeating it every time Serge says it. Oyce. That's how he says it. Oyce. Go on, say it out loud, you know you want to.

So we're checking out the set of Saturday Night Live which is just upstairs from Conan's old Late Night set at 30 Rockefeller in New York. Which, by the way, the Saturday Night Live set is crazy small with, like, folding chairs for the audience and stuff. Like a school play! But anyway, we're walking down the hall and here comes Ice Cube and an entourage of at lest ten people. And Serge greets Ice Cube like they were roommates in college:

"S'up Ice." (Oyce)

Ice Cube nods back and says "S'up."

"Oh my God, I can't believe you did that", I said to Serge.
"What?"
"S'up, Ice."
"What did you want me to say? Hello Mister Cube?"
"I dunno. Maybe."

Serge did the same thing when we saw Slash at the Sundance Film Festival this year. "S'up Slash." And Slash, this tiny man with curly hair and tight pants said "S'up."

Maybe it's a musician thing?

But now I've gone off on, hell, I don't know what. What was I even talking about? I actually had to go back and read this post to see where I was headed with this one. Good God, now THAT'S a digression. From a broken car window to Slash at the Sundance Film Festival. Wow. So yeah, my car window. It's stuck about an inch from closing. Which can be kind of a huge pain in the ass in the winter. Which means February has been for shit around these parts and I've never been so excited to welcome March in all my damn life. Even if March does its March thing and comes in like a lion, all loud and blustery like, bringing with it my thirty-third birthday. Fuck that. I don't look a day over thirty-two, dammit.

Reader Comments (15)

Great post! I totally said "oyce" out loud before I read the sentence suggesting we say it out loud! So funny. And really, Slash is little? I always pictured him as a bigger kind of guy. I agree with you, YAY March! Even though it means that next month, my sweet baby girl will turn the big #1:(
For what it's worth, I never thought we were the same age! I always assumed you were younger by your pictures:)

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJen

I will fix your window for you or atleast get it closed. You let me know. Jon L

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterjon

I have the BEST mechanic in Bountiful - I know it's a bit of a haul for you, but he's honest and pricing is really fair. Richard Rowe on Porter Ln. Here's his #(801)295-7772 . I had the same problem with the motor in my sunroof on my old Saturn and he got it closed (and it miraculously started working again) for free! Car problems are the worst!

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterCindi

Monica,
Fabulous post, you are so raw.
Yes I said it, before I read your tease.
If this is what moving brings us, could you please stay put for awhile.
Serge is famous enough to s'up Slash, and Dr. Drew.
He's The Girl Who's Husband!

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLisa

what a digression! I've just imagined you, Serge and Mister Cube :) good one! oh take care, there is one month to spring, I think everyone has already looked forward, and I'd say what a pity it's kind of far, right, but I think I could help with that broken driver's window too :)

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered Commenteranajo

'Winner' is just miserable in Jersey this year. Just for fun, ask Serge to say ".Phone Home.". If I had a 'dawwer' for every time I just HAD to repeat my Philiboy saying 'phaown haowm' after he says it... I'd send it to you to get your 'winduh' fixed.

As for the crack, I think I'd hafta go with the duct tape. Stay warm! Hunker down.

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterGina

I sawl oyce cube ouwver dere, hun.

God I love hearing people from Philly (and Northern Delaware and Maryland) talk.

March 2, 2010 | Unregistered Commentereric

Hey Monica, I had a brainstorm!! What if we called Slash & Oyce & told them we'd pay them big bucks & fly them to Utah first class to come over & fix the car window!!!! Yes, a little expensive, and yup it might ruin your newly found financial breathing room, BUT oh what a blog post it would be!!! Shit, I'll put myself into financial peril just to see Slash ask Oyce to, "Hand me that phillips head will you Oyce?" Oyce responding, "Aiiiight". Then we could all go inside to slurp down a hearty bowl of your butternut squash soup. I get to hold Ms. V!!!! Awesome day!!
Yeah, my life sucks a big boring bone. Sorry Monica.

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered Commentergiac

Question: My hubby is from a total po'dunk town in South Central PA (that's right ya'll, SOUTH. CENTRAL.) and I can't stand how they interchange left, let and leave. Does Serge do this? Is this a Pennsylvania thing (it is a weird state I am learning), or is just a po'dunk Pennsylvania thing?

Exhibit A...."I left the dog outside" when in fact, you meant to say "I LET the dog outside"...right now, action verb. Or, my personal favorite, "Just leave it go"...when it should be "Just let it go".

Although, maybe I have been saying it wrong all along?!? Am I alone here?

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterLauren Crider

So you HAVE been gangraped before! I had a feeling that was the case. Is that where the abortion came from? Oh no, thats right- you already shat out the gangrape baby. And you know famous people!! you are so special. Was it Ice Cube and his crew that busted into that shit like the KoolAid Pitcher? It doesn't look like a mud race baby in the photos.

Your writing is neither edgy nor hip. It is sad to see that you have no talent for story arc, syntax, diction, or proper and effective use of denouement. Your style is pedantic, and your stories are so greatly hampered by your ego and desire to come off as some sort of arbiter of cool that it all ends up as second rate Pahlanuik- and that is a compliment. Give it up before you hurt yourself.
Fuckitty Bye Now!! (Big Julie Andrews smile included with exeunt)

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered Commentertaxicabcarle

taxicabcarle - do you generally lurk around blogs you dislike just to hurl insults at them?

your post makes you sounds like a total asshole. you should know that your pretentious choice of words (clearly so you seem more important than your post would suggest) doesn't impress anyone around here. why don't you leave so those of us that ENJOY reading Monica's writing don't have to be subjected to your insults and pseudo-articulate nature?

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterSara

OMG my husband is from Northern New York and he does the oyce thing too. Add $5 is fidallahs

March 3, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterBecca

I used to work the nightshift in a newsroom, too, and was absolutely addicted to Love Line. What I learned: If he says it slipped in your butt by accident, he's lying.

March 4, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterKate

I like your blog, so I'm not just hanging around to insult. But (although I wouldn't have put it the way the commenter above does) I'd really like it if you could not use rape as a jokey metaphor.

March 4, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterJane

Jane, are you huge? Something tells me you're huge.

March 4, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterSanto

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