I had never seen a real football game before. I mean a real, real football game. And there I was, sports cap, beer, Buckeyes necklace, story. "I didn't go to Ohio State, but my family's from Akron, my granddad played quarterback for Akron U years ago, and I went to Northwestern. You know, Big 10. Go Bucks."

The game was exciting. I've never paid such close attention to a scoreboard before in my life. He had money riding on the game, and the bookies had called it extremely close. 56 under. That's what happens when you bet on the under. I clapped hands with everyone every time the Domers fucked up. I nodded at the commentary that Regis would sure have a lot to say. I went to the airport wearing a gigantic red Ohio State sweatshirt with a little Tostitos Fiesta Bowl emblem on the top. And here's what I found. The world has never so lovingly embraced Mandy Stadtmiller. I have a place. They get it. I am the tall girl who is good at or into sports. I kind of liked it. "Your team did all right yesterday," the black woman nodded to me. "They did." I grinned. I walked away proudly. A white old man with creased brown hair smiled at me. "I like your sweatshirt," he said. "Bet you're not looking forward to getting back to the cold." "Well, no," I said. "You're going to party when you get back?" "I live in New York," I said. Then feebly, "My granddad, he played quarterback for Akron U." The conversation was over.

On the plane, I started writing. I wrote for three hours. I wanted to catch up with my brain. The plane landed. I was listening to "Two Guitars" by Graham Smith.

I'm much happier than I seem to be
Life is laugh-out-loud hilarious
24 hours a day
And I have stuck to that belief vehemently
And that’s no doubt the primary cause
Of my uneven grief and malaise
So I'm still whispering
In case you haven’t noticed
I've gone halfway down to dumb
And heaven only knows what's best
And you are still not listening
You're losing your focus
The noise develops and envelops
You until you're deaf
But it's all too easy
Another unproductive day
I ask you if you'll ever need me
You say, no, no
So I can't say you never told me so
You're breaking the rules
You're laying the groundwork for rebellion
You're playing with fire
You're making a liar out of me
And you are playing the fool
Enabling the ouster of all your skeletons
Take a minute and let it settle in
Are you proud to be
A runaway amongst a throng of strangers
A threat if only to yourself
Quench your thirst with some new anger
But it's never ever quite enough
And the evidence is piling up
And the slender ties that bind are stuck
I'm out of time and I am FUCKED
This absolutely wasn't supposed to happen
It was supposed to be a walk in the park
But these storm clouds descended
And our sojourn ended
And now we're making art in the dark
And I told them not to say a single word to you
This is the last thing I intended to put you through
What could I have expected her to do
And by some twist of fate the last thing she heard was
Two guitars, one manic and one angry
That faded like to streaks of light
But they sounded like a happy family
As they kissed her sunken cheeks goodnight
To float away on down the river
And never come upstream again
Oh I promise that I won't deliver
So bury me in Tennessee
Far away from Venice Beach
And all the enemies I've made here
We had such good chemistry
I never needed you to censor me
Or treat me tenderly
But then that plenipotential energy
Poured down like rain and rendered me
Utterly, unendingly speechless
So now by God I hope you see
You could have been a better friend to me
I'm sure you'll whistle as the threnody plays
But as they drop my body
Into the brusque, indignant earth
I know that you'll feel sorry
For whatever it is worth
Unfortunately, that's precious little
And a few precious uncaptured moments too late
It's over, baby, it's official
So tell me, was it worth the wait?

I was weeping.

I went and bought expensive Italian water and green tea. I was choking on my tears. I could barely talk. It felt good. I called M. One of the things that I had written was something that always makes me cry. It's making me cry right now. A card. Gold, I think. I tossed it when I was lightening my load to move to New York. It was from M.  "To Mandy," it said, "who gave me a life." I reached him. "Where are you?" he said. "O'Hare," I said. "Happy New Year," he said.

I was silent, bobbing, bobbing, bobbing, bobbing my green tea and crying. "Are you there?" he said. "Yes," I said. I couldn't speak. My voice came out thick, broken. "Are you okay?" he said. "Yeah," I said, "Just you know how sometimes you think about everything and it's a lot?"

"Yeah," he said. I looked at the people walking past the Wolfgang Puck's Express where I sat. "Do you want to know something funny?" I said. "Yeah," he said. "I'm sitting here in this gigantic fucking clownish Ohio State sweatshirt," I said. "Sobbing."

I laughed.

"And it doesn't make any sense.

"Because, like, my team. They played a really good game yesterday."

He laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "That is funny."