I am saddened by the passing of Wendy Wasserstein. Not only is she my mother's favorite playwright, but the first thing I ever directed was a scene from "The Heidi Chronicles." And to this day, I still say "For real, not Farina," and wistfully wish someone would rescue me from a boring party or awkward situation by pretending to be on a boat. You get what I'm talking about if you read the play.
My mom interviewed Wendy when I was a kid and there was a photo of my mother and Wendy on our fridge for my entire life in that house. My friends all assumed she was my aunt, or at least a close friend of my mom's. Spiritually, I think my mom felt like she and Wendy were really good friends.
I only met Wendy one time -- I was walking on the upper west side with my friend, Brooke, and we ran into Wendy and her friend. Wendy was lovely and sweet, and even though I'd outgrown my fondness for her plays (at this point, I thought her woe-is-me overprivileged characters were just pathetic; i was a starving artist and didn't really have time for that shit), I was so honored and excited to meet her. Now that I'm older and not so starving, it might be time to revisit Wendy's works.
We'll miss you, Wendy Wasserstein.