Inspiration: Phyllis Diller

One of the greats died yesterday, at a time when women desperately need pioneers*.  She was an awkward, loud, garish beacon of light for awkward, funny and loud girls everywhere; breaking into a field that's dominated by men to this day.

Diller made it in comedy at a time when, as her protegee, Joan Rivers, said, "you had to look funny to be funny" and that's true. Diller failed to live up to the expectations set for women and that provided her with ample material to poke fun at. But she also had to make fun of herself because society has several choice words for women who dare to make fun of anything else.

I was at an open mic last night where I saw a wide spectrum of bravery and cowardice: comics who lashed out and were mean just for the sake of being mean and comics who were unflinchingly honest and brave, if only for a 5 minute set.  I hate to categorize people, but the mean comics, who said cruel things about people who were different from themselves, were all white, frat-boy handsome men. They made fun of others because they were never taught to question or devalue themselves. The honest comics were the ones who were outside that median in some way: they were gay, or a minority or female. Being on the outside often inspires people to erect** a comedic wall of defense: a desire to make fun of ourselves before someone else does it for us.

And maybe that's all making fun of oneself is: a defense mechanism. But I still think it's brave and hard to do well. And Diller did it well for over 50 years.

How to Dress Like Phyllis Diller:

Wear whatever the fuck you want. 

*Blerg.
** This word makes me giggle.

Weekend Recap

So, on Friday night I had dinner with a friend and then went out for drinks with a few other friends in Brooklyn, where they live. I obviously had to be smuggled across the border after this incident but I managed to remain undetected for the rest of the evening.

We drank beer, we laughed, and we watched some bearded men build an enormous castle out of empty beer cups.

All in all, good clean fun. Until last call, when I went to buy a round. And I realized I had no wallet. And, somewhere, in the back of my mind, I had a dim vision of a terrible stereotype. But I ignored it as I searched for my wallet, to no avail. Until...suddenly, I had a sense of deja vu.

I realized that about a year ago I also lost my wallet. In the same borough. In the same bar.



With the same friend. 

Why does anyone let me out of my bed let alone my house in the morning?

As it turned out that unlike last time when the wallet was merely misplaced, this time it was properly stolen, which was a surprising comfort to my ego. And my friend kindly regaled me with stories of losing her wallet in various foreign countries and gave me money to get home and I comforted myself with this idea:

I'm not just the stupid bitch that comes from Connecticut to Brooklyn and loses her wallet.

I'm the stupid bitch that does it twice. 
I'm like a new, superbreed of stereotype.

So, all weekend I worked on canceling my credit cards, replacing my IDs and rebuilding my sense of pride. This ring, which is the epitome of taste and class helped some.

Then, Sunday night I decided to bring in the big guns. 

That's right, bitches. 7-11. Their nachos are a culinary delight and their Slushies are engineering marvels. And, as I threw on my helmet and leather jacket and headed out to the scooter, I said, "I am just so much more awesome than anyone else."


It wasn't true, but it sure felt good to say it. To my cat.

Social Hierarchy of A Zumba Class

Hello, my name is Sarah Hartshorne... and I Zumba. I read somewhere that memorizing a choreographed physical routine is 10x better for preventing Alzheimer's than crossword puzzles, so I started taking Zumba classes. For a while I think I pulled off doing so ironically, until this week.

Somehow... I crossed a line. I'm not sure how it happened but all of a sudden at my last class I noticed people looking to me to figure out the routine. And when the instructor asked how we were all doing....

I whooed. 

That's right. As in the "whooo!" one does at a concert or a sporting event or somewhere equally cool. I made that sound, along with a bunch of other people in tight, elastic-y clothing, at a Zumba class. I expect to receive a letter in the mail any day announcing that I will not be allowed in Brooklyn until I complete 10 Enthusiasm Management Classes and an Irony Apprecation Workshop.

In the meantime, however, I've learned that there is a clearly divided social hierarchy in Zumba classes and these are the divisions my research has revealed:

Gay Guys

They are the top of the pyramid and everyone knows it. 

They move the best, the have the most fun and everyone 

follows them when they can't see the instructors. But the 

truly best thing about them is how uncomfortable the Unfunny 

Straight Guys look as they realize whose lead they have to follow. 

Zumba Sluts

There are actually 2 types of Zumba Sluts but they're all

tan, have an entire wardrobe of cute workout clothes (as

opposed to a 3XL Morris Dancing Feast T-shirt and men's

running shorts) and wear makeup to class.These are the subcategories:

1) Young Zumba sluts: their expertise comes from 

dancing at the club and they want everyone to know it.

They bust into their own slutty little dances between

numbers lest anyone think their talents were limited to

Zumba. No one knows who they are trying to impress.

2) Middle-aged Zumba sluts: these women wear special

Zumba brand clothing, are ridiculously fit, and say things 

like, "why go to a club when you can Zumba?!" I am

tempted to suggest they ask their younger counterparts,

but that would draw attention to the fact that someone in 

in the world is younger than them and they really hate that. 

I once mentioned that I wasn't born when their favorite 

song came out and they almost ate me.

General Populace/Funny Straight Guys

This, I believe, is where I fall in the pyramid.

The funny straight guys don't mind taking

cues from the gay guys, acknowledge their lack of

rhythym and try to have a good time anyway. I think

the instructor's impeccable ass helps. A lot.

Neurotic Nancies/Unfunny Straight Guys

These are the guys who thought they'd be able

to pick up chicks and realize that that won't be 

happening, and the girls who are, "like, known for

 their dancing" and thought they'd be awesome at this

until they caught sight of themselves in the mirror. 

In short, anyone who takes themselves seriously is 

instantly relegated to the bottom of the pile.

And outside the pyramid, floating around in the periphery are 

The Ancients

Women who are all approximately 120 years old and spend the entire class just walking in place and waving their arms. The really ambitious ones alter their arm waves to vaguely resemble the instructor's movements. In my class we have the added bonus of having a crazy ancient who, in between numbers, shouts things like, "we all have wings of the Taco!" which is pretty great.

Weekend Recap

It was the Boy's birthday last week, so this weekend I planned a Delightful Surprise Outing which turned out even better than I'd expected.

We hiked, while Rue guarded the house.

Then we had high tea at an adorable cafe.

The cafe had an adjacent store that made me fantasize about my someday grownup house which will have an office like this one I saw in a penthouse apartment on 5th Ave. The apartment belonged to some friends of my grandfather who were hosting his book party. It was full of real grownups, so I put my hair in a french twist, painted my nails and tried not to quote Kanye too much.

That said, I can't help it if my reaction to hearing a heartwarming story about rescuing a cat presents an excellent opportunity to pun on the Kanye classic 'Ni**as in Paris'.


Powerful attorney/real grownup: he was a rescue cat-
Me: that shit stray.
PA/RG: I'm sorry?
Me: oh, it's from Kanye and Jay Z's 'Watch the Throne'
PA/RG: I..I'm not familiar.
Me: that shit cray.

So that was that. 

In No Particular Order

A list of women that helped shape and influence me.

1) Patti Smith*

Her book, her songs, her cover of Smells Like Teen Spirit, her self.

2) Carol Burnett

She is the reason I am the way I am. She is the funniest woman on the planet.

3) Tina Fey

Because she is awesome. To see her being awesome, click here.

4) Marilyn Monroe

Recently I've shied away from her because of the sad girls of my generation following in her unsteady footsteps. But she was more than a tragic figure: she was funny, curvy and a brilliant actress.

5) Marlene Dietrich

She was a grandmother when this was taken.
Androgynous sexpot extraordinaire. World's sexiest grandmother.

7) Amelia Earhart

I got an antique piece of luggage from the Amelia Earhart collection, which led to a lengthy Wikipedia binge. The suitcase may need to go through several voodoo anti-jinxing rituals before I'll bring it on a plane, but I'm awfully glad I got to learn so much about this extraordinary woman.

8) Rosa Parks

Did you know she wasn't just pivotal in the Civil Rights movement but also in bringing rapists to justice? Check it out.

9) Holly Golightly

Diamonds, aging, friends. This character inspired the hell out of me from the screen and the page.

10) Eugenie Clark, the Shark Lady

She helped me remember that smart girls are cool in the face of bullies.


Thank you.

*Did I already say that? I'm getting blogger's deja vu.