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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
JUL
17

Del Mar Opening Day

Opening Day at the local horse racing track wouldn't have been an event I would have predicted enjoying all that much, but sometimes in life it's nice to be disproved.

It wasn't so much the big hat (ok, so it was mostly the big hat), but rather the horses themselves that had me completely captivated. They're so skinny and fit...not at all like the horses I'd see at summer camp as a teenager. Which is apparently where all the fat horses go. And most of the time when a horse has high odds of winning, he wins. It made it easy for me, a total rookie, to call the first race, as well as another two beyond that. These were $2 bets, so it's not like I walked away rich (or with even as much as I'd spent in bets), but still, there's something incredibly satisfying about watching a horse cross the finish line first when you've got some money on him. And it was all I could do not to go all "Come on, Dover! Move your bloomin' ass!" on everyone.

Granted, there were things I could have done without. Like the copious amounts of alcohol being consumed, the long lines to place bets, and the fact that the theme for opening day women's attire in Del Mar seemed to be "Slutty." I swear it must have said that on the website somewhere. Dress as slutty as you can. Like, seriously. (I went vintage, naturally.) But all in all, I loved the experience, and I sort of can't wait to go back. Now who would have seen that coming??

JUL
11

Typesetting with Cats (Again)

It's hard to do, I'll have you know. What with my cat running all over the pages; the pages she assumes have been set out just for her. But no matter. It doesn't make me like this part of the process any less. So yes, round one of typesetting options is in the books. And seeing my words laid out for the first time on actual bookish pages is always equal parts exciting and confusing. Like, how did this happen? How are these my words? They look so official. And also, am I ready for this? Is the world? (Are my ex-boyfriends???)

In any case, bring on round two. And it's clear what my cat's vote is.

JUL
01

The Lights are so Bright

Taylor Swift certainly got those lyrics right. And I was reminded of this while back in New York City last week on vacation. It's a city I pine for often, even in the very act of praising heaven over how much less stressful my life has been since I moved away. Less epic as well, perhaps, but that's the tradeoff, people.

In any case, I was happy to be back even for just a few days, and I found it amusing that my friends scolded me for wanting to go to my favorite spots rather than spend my limited NYC time exploring new ones. But to me it was a no-brainer. So, yes, my friend turned to me at one point and said, "I can't believe you're back in New York and of all the places we could go for dinner, you want to go to Harlem Shake," but old habits die hard. So get off my back.

Levain Bakery was in the mix as well, as was a stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park, and multiple Broadway shows, but that's my New York. That's the New York I love. It's the New York I've always loved. The stuff you can only find in New York. I don't see what's so shameful about that; about admitting your favorite things about a city are the very things all the tourists come to see.

One new experience I did have was marching in the Gay Pride Parade. I wasn't expecting to love it as much as I did, and since I'm straight, I wondered if my marching would appear phony to others for whom it means so much more personally, but the whole thing was just a giant puddle of love and celebration and acceptance. And who--gay or straight--wouldn't be on board with that? And so marching down Fifth Avenue, thousands upon thousands of people looking on and cheering, I felt part elated over the sheer positive energy wafting up from the streets and part sad that it can't be like this every day. Because everyone deserves that kind of pride in their sexuality, that kind of acceptance from others, and that kind of confidence to be authentically themselves.

So, see, I did manage to sneak in something new. Even if I ate falafel and pizza by the slice every day.

 

JUN
20

For Cleveland

The thing about Cleveland is it was only mine for seven years. That’s as long as I lived there. But it’s the first city that really felt like mine; the first city that saw me moving across the country, knowing no one, and beginning to build a life for myself. It’s also the first city I ever lived in that had an NBA team. So, in a way, the Cavaliers were probably destined to be mine, too.

I was surprised during these finals how many people didn’t think that the Cavs would win. Very nearly everyone predicted a Warriors repeat. I confess being down 3-1 was a bit foreboding. I myself was in Cleveland for game 4. Oakland is a lot closer, but I flew my Californian ass to Cleveland and cheered my heart out along with 20,561 others; 20,561 others who left Quicken Loans arena probably just as discouraged as I was. But the thing is, it wasn’t over. And just before getting on a plane and winging my way back west, I said to someone, “All we have to do is win three in a row.” And I was being sincere, in that, taken one game at a time, I didn’t see how it wasn’t possible. Even probable. Them boys were on a mission. To me it seemed so obvious that they wanted it more than Golden State. They wanted it for Cleveland.

I’ve run into some who can’t root for Cleveland because of the seeming fickleness of the fans. The fact that we loved LeBron, hated him, and then loved him again. As a person who lived in Cleveland for the best of the LeBron years, the years he played for Miami, and then was still living there when he made the decision to return, I can assure you that it was certainly a fascinating fandom flip-flop. But it’s really not that hard to understand. We were hurt, indescribably so. “The Decision” was a lousy way for a star athlete to make such an announcement. But if you read the essay LeBron wrote that accompanied his decision to return to Cleveland, he addresses the folly of “The Decision,” and explains why coming home and bringing a championship to Cleveland was, he’d realized, more important. Hurt as we were, you couldn’t read that essay without feeling not only that you were witnessing growth, but also sincerity. So is it any wonder that when I heard the news—while in the dressing room of the Anthropologie store on Chagrin Blvd.—I broke into a smile that wouldn’t go away? (Let me say, for the record, that I sometimes miss the low cost of living that allowed me to even shop at Anthropologie in the first place something fierce.)

I have wanted this for Cleveland for all of those seven years, and the two since I left as well. I realize that’s not nearly as long as many Cleveland fans; fans who have endured decades (or a lifetime) of their teams coming up short. But it’s long enough to feel a sense of satisfaction over last night’s win that goes beyond a mere victory or title. It’s long enough to have cried when that buzzer sounded. And it’s certainly long enough to be a Cleveland fan for always. Hats off to you, Believeland. You deserve it.

JUN
16

Viva Las Vegas

I'm not exactly sure how it is that I've managed to get to this point in my life without ever having been to Las Vegas. Except that I do know. In that I've simply never chosen to go there. My impression of the city has never been favorable, I'm not a gambler (except that company Christmas party that one year that I totally rocked even though the money was fake and no one believed it was any indication of how I would fare in an actual casino....pppssshhh). After so many years of assuming Vegas was a bit slutty, now having been there--for a work trip earlier this month--I can report that Vegas is, in fact, a bit slutty. At the risk of incriminating our society at large (not that it's any secret), this obviously resonates with people. This idea of boozy, scantily-clad evenings spent frittering away money in smoke-saturated hotel bottoms. Sign me up. Except don't. Because that sounds terrible.

I was in town for the JCK show (THE jewelry trade show), and it goes without saying that the place (the convention center...not Vegas, hells no) was a lot like how I imagine heaven. In that there were diamonds, gems, and jewelry pretty much everywhere. Diamonds. Freaking. Everywhere. I even got to try some on (it pays to know people), and when the makers of this Garrard tiara (they design the tiaras for the British Royal Family...in case you didn't hear me, I said the BRITISH ROYAL FAMILY) asked if I wanted to try on this Princess Di replica, I very nearly wet myself. Between that and the limousine that transported me to my next event immediately after, I haven't felt so fancy in all my life. So I suppose if you spend several days in a diamond-filled convention center, your nights in an upscale luxury resort, and get to expense all your meals and cap everything off with a day sitting poolside, maybe Vegas isn't so bad. I may even look forward to next year. But only because of the tiara.

latest tweets

TaliNayBooks Well, I guess now I don't have to be the only #SoCal girl rooting for the #indians in the #WorldSeries. #SilverLining #dodgerterritory
TaliNayBooks Because what's better than 3 days of art, food, ideas and music? Besides maybe stretchy pants. #LifeIsBeautifulFest https://t.co/6aviUYGA4Y
TaliNayBooks I'm sure they'll reach out for the "Authors You've Never Heard Of" edition. #authors #style #joandidion https://t.co/gQE9hPO7r3