A Year Straight (23 page)

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Listen, I have to run home and pack. Good luck with
the helmet,” I said, leaning in for a hug. “And don't scratch my DVDs while I'm gone.”

“Whatever,” TJ said, squeezing me too tightly. “You know you're not coming back.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Of course I am.”

 

 

THEO PLANNED TO meet me at the airport, and as my plane made the initial descent into Charles de Gaulle, I panicked.
What if there's no more spark? What if we don't make each other laugh? What if he's wearing the hat I hate?
As my plane pulled into the gate, my heart pounded in my chest. I tried not to worry and to focus instead on the thought of fresh croissants. With my Italian passport, I breezed through customs. I crossed through the automatic doors to the passenger arrival area. Theo wasn't there yet, which gave me time to get worked up again. Breathe, Elena. I sat down on the cool marble floor and leaned back against the wall, trying to look cool myself.

After an eternity (five minutes), I spied Theo jogging toward me in a jean jacket and the hat I hate. But it didn't matter what he was wearing. My heart did a cartwheel at the sight of him. I jumped up, smiled big, waved, grabbed my bag, and ran toward him, arms out in anticipation of the big embrace. Then I slipped on the slick marble floor in my new UGG boots. My feet flew out from under me. I yelped, flailed, and fell flat on my ass. And we laughed. We laughed and laughed, until Theo, doubled over in hysterics, gathered
himself just enough to hobble over and scoop me up into his arms. We clung to each other, hugging and kissing and laughing some more. And then we made our way to the train, Theo carrying my bag on one arm, his other around my shoulder, and me savoring the not one but two croissants he'd brought for me. As we followed the signs for the RER, he walked me through the meal he'd be preparing back at his house, stopping every now and then to kiss the top of my head.

“Goat cheese omelets with bacon and chives.”
Smooch.
“Oven-roasted tomatoes.”
Smooch
. “French fries, of course. Fromage, charcuterie.”
Smooch.
“Pain au chocolat...” I wondered how much it might cost to change my return ticket.

In the end, it's not about gender. The question is: Can they cook? (And are they ready to love you?)

D
eepest imaginable gratitude for my family, for endless encouragement and unconditional love. I endless encouragement and unconditional love. I wouldn't be me without you. Mom, thank you for being my biggest fan, for incredibly helpful editing assistance, and for always answering the phone, no matter what time I call. Dad, thank you for instilling in me your hardworking spirit and for having nothing but the utmost faith in me, no matter how many gray hairs I have given you. To my brother, David, thanks for always challenging me to be true to myself, for church laughter, and for hating all my bad boyfriends. To Nonny, thank you for passing on the writer-ly genes and for helping me edit this book. I hope to be as hip as you at age ninety! To Pia and Mau, for immense Italian love and infinite generosity. Thank you for feeding me! Per Sissa, per essere
così come sei, creativa, singolare, e unica al mondo. And to Daniela, chi porta gioia ovunque vada.

This book exists because of my agent, Jane Dystel, whose enthusiasm never waned. Thank you for believing in this book, and in me, and for answering all my emails immediately. I don't know how you do it. Thank you also to Miriam Goderich.

To my editor, Krista Lyons, who “got it” right from the start. Thank you for your keen insight and for keeping me on track. And to Brooke Warner, and the rest of the staff of Seal Press, a truly groundbreaking publishing house. The world needs you.

A big “Brilliant!” to my writing teacher, Andrew Craft, without whom creating a book proposal would have seemed like an insurmountable task. To my New York writing buddy, Valerie Reiss, thank you for sharing the vulnerability of the writing process, and more important for the cookies. And to my writing buddy Parisienne, Aurélie Valat. Thank you for having a laugh even louder than mine, so that people glared at you instead. Without you, Paris would be a much colder place.

Enormous thanks to David and Lizzie for a boxful of books, a boatload of encouragement, and for letting me clog your toilet, too.

To my teacher Alex Deschamps, who first encouraged me to write. And to Judy Grahn, Dianne Jenett, Vicki Noble, Kris Brandenburger, and D'vorah Grenn for teaching me to embrace the paradox.

To my friends who read the first drafts: Jane Riley, thank you for supersmart feedback and for seventeen years of friendship. I won't tell anyone you watch
The OC.
To Mary Rohlich, for contagious enthusiasm and die-hard optimism. Nike Clausing, thank you for always begging for more chapters and for being one of the most creative, inspirational women I know. To TG Albert, for years of banter and for talking sense into me now and then. I hate to say it, but sometimes you're right. Deepest thanks and love to Aimee Norwich for years of encouragement and for being brave enough to be an artist. Because of people like you, I find the courage to do it, too.

Thank you to my extended families: La Famiglia Minora and the Eddy-Quintana Clan.

To Sarah Starpoli, my soul. To Ange DiBenedetto, who knows me better than anyone. To Paige Panzner, the funniest Virgo I know. To Gigi Nicolas for “getting” me. To Casey Edwards for demanding that I put more of “me” into my story. To my A.M. ladies: Ricki Grater, Val Andrewlevich, Meghan Dempsey, Rachel Hass, Karen Holmes, Kara Kramer, and Candace Reid. Thank you for being. To Kira Smith for “seeing” me. To Helene and Nikom Los Banos (the wise surf instructor) for your big, big hearts. To Alex Taylor, Wenonah Madison, and the rest of the Aquinnah crew. You're crazy and I love you. To my Right Media and AppNexus peers for years of camaraderie. And to the staff at Spring Restaurant, merci pour les repas à l'oeil et pour le vin à volonté.

Thank you to Nicolas Piégay and the staff at Kooka Boora Café, a little touch of Brooklyn in the Ninth Arrondissement. And to Olivier Galfione at Trini Yoga (not to be confused with The Yoga Teacher). To Jessica Bond and Michelle Snyder : Having good hair helps. To Nick Gwyer for the Joan Collins makeovers. To Alicia Eddy-Quintana for the five-degree photo shoot. To Erica Beckman, photographer extraordinaire of the “I Heart Brooklyn Girls” calendar. To Murray Hill, the hardest-working middle-aged man in show business. And to Bliss Warrior, a trailblazer.

To my fabulous friends who cheered me on: Janice Cummings, Denise Kelly-Simpson, Margie Rothermich, Tina Hernaiz, Baby Juna, Hillary Smith, Natalie Agee, Delano McFarlane, Joanna Lindenbaum, Tif Wolf, Melisse Gelula, Francisco Romero, Meghan Ficca, Patty Jang, Lauren Gutter-man, Diana Reilly, Lisa Muñoz, Teresa Soroka, Steve Gia-comelli, Theresa Vu, Josh Cohen, Antonella Desini, Cate Newsom, Melody Drummond Hansen, Nat Hansen, Keith DiLauro, Melissa Diamond, Becca Wolff, Lisa Stern, Scrappy, and the Kikibeaks.

And to “Theo.” Thank you for following your dream so that I was inspired to quit my high-paying job to follow mine, too (and for supporting me in every possible way while I did so). Thank you for believing in me, for loving me so tenderly, and for always scooping me up when I scoot over to you at night, even though I steal the covers.

E
lena Azzoni has performed her written and comedic stage work at various venues throughout New York City and the Bay Area. In November 2007, her one-woman show,
This Is the Way I Pray: Confessions of a Yearning Heart on a Sugar High,
received standing ovations each night of its sold-out run at the BAX Theater in Brooklyn. She has also appeared on the Logo channel and in the debut issue of the “I Heart Brooklyn Girls” calendar. Elena received an MFA from New College of California and a BA in women, gender, and sexuality studies from UMASS Amherst. She currently lives in Paris, France. This is her first book.

For more than thirty years, Seal Press has published groundbreaking books. By women. For women.

 

Just Don't Call Me Ma'am: How I Ditched the South for the Big City, Forgot My Manners, and Managed to Survive My Twenties with (Most of) My Dignity Still Intact,
by Anna Mitchael. $15.95, 978-1-58005-316-7. In this disarmingly funny tale about the choices that add up to be her twentysomething life, Anna Mitchael offers young women comic relief—with the reality check that there's no possible way to hit all of their desired benchmarks on the way to thirty.

 

Wanderlust: A Love Affair with Five Continents,
by Elisabeth Eaves. $16.95, 978-1-58005-311-2. A love letter from the author to the places she's visited—and to the spirit of travel itself—that documents her insatiable hunger for the rush of the unfamiliar and the experience of encountering new people and cultures.

 

Dear John, I Love Jane: Women Write About Leaving Men for Women,
edited by Candance Walsh and Laura André. $16.95, 978-1-58005-339-6. A timely collection of stories that are sometimes funny and sometimes painful—but always achingly honest—accounts of leaving a man for a woman, and the consequences of making such a choice.

 

Kissing Outside the Lines: A True Story of Love and Race and Happily Ever After,
by Diane Farr. $24.95, 978-1-58005-390-7. Actress and columnist Diane Farr's unapologetic, and often hilarious, look at the complexities of interracial/ethnic/ religious/what-have-you love.

 

Outdated: Why Dating Is Ruining Your Love Life,
by Samhita Mukhopad-hyay. $17.00, 978-1-58005-332-7. An intelligent analysis of how and why young people today are rejecting traditional dating and mating pressures—and why they're better off for doing so.

 

Valencia
, by Michelle Tea. $14.95, 978-1-58005-238-2. A fast-paced account of one girl's search for love and high times in the dyke world of San Francisco. By turns poetic and frantic, Valencia is a visceral ride through the queer girl underground of the Mission.

 

 

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A YEAR STRAIGHT

Copyright © 2011 by Elena Azzoni

 

Published by

Seal Press

A Member of the Perseus Books Group
1700 Fourth Street
Berkeley, California

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Azzoni, Elena, 1975-

A year straight : confessions of a boy-crazy lesbian beauty queen / Elena Azzoni.

p. cm.

eISBN : 978-1-580-05427-0

1. Azzoni, Elena, 1975- 2. Lesbians—United States—Biography. 3. Lesbians—Relations with heterosexuals. 4. Man-woman relationships. I. Title.

HQ75.4.A99A3 2011

306.76'63092—dc23

[B]

2011019604

987654321