ALL POSTS - If read in order it's a story.

November 21, 2014

But now I am desperate.

Just as I am in day 500 and change of crying for the loss of marriage and LA and my life as I carefully shaped it for 17 years (when I moved from NYC to LA), I open my email. I am hoping there will be an email to make me feel better.

There could be an enthusiastic response to my request for supreme artistic dominance at work, or a response to my submission to write stories for phone games, or something impossible like a phrase that could be interpreted as caring in a legal letter from Leif, or an email from my vet tech friend telling me the drugs that are the last I have to try for Spikey's coughing before I put him down are in the mail. But there are none of these things. There's an email from my mom forwarding something. I actually got it several hours ago and didn't open it, but now I am desperate for something potentially heartwarming.

It's a series of pictures my aunt has forwarded my mother of my DC lawyer cousin's kids cuddling with President Obama in the Oval Office. My cousin and his wife and my aunt and uncle have gotten in the pictures too. The president is not cuddling them. In this shot the little girls are succumbing to his deep presidential charm.

The older one is the one who bit me at The Grove.
Woody Allen massaged my shoulders when I passed as 15 to extra in his yearly movie. It was supposed to be a featured scene (minus massage, which was between shots) and it wasn't included. So all I have is the skeevy memory and it isn't as good as the Oval Office. Not by a long shot. Not by the longest shot in the world. I wasn't even raped by Bill Cosby and that wouldn't be good enough.
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8 comments:

  1. AndreaNovember 24, 2014 at 8:42 AM

    This is a sad post, and feels so real. I wish I was there to give you a hug, Rebecca.
    (Or Spike's medicine. Or to swat Woody Allen's paws away from you.)
    xoxo from nm.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Petrea BurchardNovember 25, 2014 at 7:47 PM

    Meds for Spikey. Poor baby.

    But how do you make me laugh when you're unhappy? This is a sad post, yes, but funny at the same time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. beckynotDecember 2, 2014 at 2:16 AM

      Thank you?

      I remember sweet pictures of your old doggy.

      Delete
  3. Pasadena AdjacentDecember 1, 2014 at 10:14 PM

    Trust me on this, your skeevy Woody Allen story is far more entertaining then a photo op with the president (which they won't remember).

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    Replies
    1. beckynotDecember 2, 2014 at 2:15 AM

      Their parents will show them the pictures, and their future spouses the pictures. They will meet more presidents. This is the 3rd president my Aunt has met; they've all been Democratic presidents if that helps.

      Back in the day, didn't the average citizen have to save lives or do epic good to meet the president? But these are not average citizens.

      I have no work ethic. This is what happens...

      Delete
  4. AnonymousJanuary 3, 2015 at 6:10 AM

    Parasite

    ReplyDelete

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