Friday, August 31, 2007


Audition canceled because it is the friday before labor day. Receive call from Betsey this morning telling me of same. Attempt joke: It's too bad we didn't know about Labor Day until yesterday! Betsey's response: ... Me: Well, er, I guess... Betsey: I'll call you when I hear what the new schedule is. Betsey is apparently not of the opinion that it is absolutely necessary to say goodbye, or take care, or have a nice weekend before hanging up. Blush and am angry about blushing. Am at work and have on swimming trunks under clothes in what seemed before like good planning, but in light of new circumstances,see that rest of day is going to be spent wishing had just worn proper underwear.

Thursday, August 30, 2007


Over ginger tea (stomach not all it could be today) tell the Contessa about tomorrow's audition. The Contessa becomes red and says as though spitting out tacks that Betsey is a snake, a weasel, and a shrew and the Contessa wouldn't trust her as far as she could throw her which isn't far because Betsey has a big A. Heartily agree, but ask, Porquoi the sudden hostility? Why all the Zoo animals? The Contessa replies that she Betsey went out and at the end of the evening she let slip that she thought that the Contessa was to blame for the New Man's behavior. The Contessa was not actually interested in a serious relationship and so he strayed because he knew that she was going to wig out on him at some point anyway. Ask her if she threw her drink in Betsey's face. I did not, the Contessa says, I took it and I agreed with her and it wasn't until I woke up the next morning--after a horrible night's sleep--very bad dreams about a swamp, ugh--that I realized what she'd done. But congratulations on getting the audition and good luck, the Contessa adds magnanimously.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Acting Career

Revive forgotten plan to be movie star this morning when receive call from Betsey (feel that in previous postings referred to this person as Hilary, but can't be positive and am too lazy to check, so henceforth, she who is the casting director will be called Betsey). Betsey says that she has an ad she wants me to audition for. Ask her what it is--she says she can't say, but to bring swimming trunks to the audition on Friday. (!?)

Tuesday, August 28, 2007


This morning on train am seized by craving for chocolate chocolate chip muffin. (Specifically the gigantic kind from Costco, which several times a week after junior high school before was driven to orchestra practice--was, very very popular and cool child--pulled muffin out of freezer, popped into microwave and heated until chips started to melt a bit and then would gobble down with a tall glass of milk. Can only imagine now what eating of one of those muffins would do to spare tire. Do not care to dwell on memory of glass of milk.) At deli, see that there is only one chocolate chocolate chip muffin left and am under firm delusion that muffin is meant for me. Muffin is not, it turns out, meant for me, because am instead given vile marshmallow, chocolate chip, and yellow cake muffin, but do not discover this until go back to office, because Betsey--trying friend of the Contessa's--is buying a cup of coffee. She pretends to be happy to see me, and I her, and then ask in joking tone whether she has any roles coming up for me. Betsey looks me up and down and then up and down again with a ball bearing eye and says she'll Have to think about it. We kiss cheeks and say goodbye. Feel chilled by the experience and as mentioned above was not at all consoled by eventual meeting with muffin. Can't think why anybody would put marshmallows in a muffin.

Monday, August 27, 2007

New Kids

This morning, get on elevator in lobby with the Contessa (have snuck off for quick coffee and when it comes time to return to own office, feel severe and unrelenting allergy to idea of returning to own office, so quickly accept the Contessa's offer to Come visit the old homestead.) In elevator, we are joined by 4 young girls--first thought is that they are tweens--but then realize that they are 18 year olds. One girl who appears to be the ringleader has on a very short skirt, expensive large purse, lots of makeup, and her hair has been blown out, second girl is a bit mousy, hair untouched by product or hairdryer, third girl had dreads and is wearing track suit, fourth girl looks like ringleader except she is blond and far too thin. Feel that would save everyone some time if I told them that by the end of the week they will all have a completely new set of friends, but naturally, don't say anything. The ringleader turns to the Contessa and says, What dorm do you live in? The Contessa is breezy and says that she lives in the dorm on 13th St. The Are you a graduate student? the girl asks with visible horror. After we get off, the Contessa says that it was fun to be 18 before she was cruelly aged. She said it made her feel excited and sick--intimidated by the ringleader, wishing the ringleader ill, and feeling fatter, poorer, and yet quite a bit smarter. Ask her how that is different than what she feels like now. She replies that now she had a bit of perspective and can see that superficial things don't matter. There is a pause and then she asks me how the hell a girl that age could afford a purse like that. It isn't fair. Tell her sagely that life isn't fair. The Contessa returns that I would be singing a different tune if a group of 18-year-old boys with skateboards and baseball caps had gotten on the elevator instead. Tell her that I have no idea what she means. (Inwardly feel very uneasy, though even to self can't say why.)

Friday, August 24, 2007

Bad Dog

Am very shocked and disturbed this morning by Jenny's murderous behavior in park which results in one dead squirrel. Feel that squirrel must have been on it's last legs anyway, because Jenny on best of days not especially fleet of foot. She is, however always hopeful, and today she takes off after squirrel like all other days. Instead of the squirrel blithely running up nearby tree, squirrel keels over, allowing Jenny to pounce. Jenny brings the squirrel to me and drops it at my feet. The murder victim stares up at me with beady eye, little claws folded back against it's chest, but is bloodless--think--must be in shock, She would make a good bird dog--has a soft mouth. Jenny barks and wags her tail, looking up at me. Wonder--not for the first time--what could be going through her head. What is going through my head is, What am I going to do with this thing? Thankfully (?) have plastic bags in pocket, meant to be used for poop removal. One bag instead becomes body bag. Jenny holds head high on walk home and when door to apartment is opened, she races in to kitchen, where Dave scoops her up. and before can say anything, she is licking him all over his face. Feel that am closing the barn door after the horse has left when brush Jenny's mouth and teeth with baking soda (she is very upset by the process.) But Dave approves heartily after tell him where her mouth has been.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Magical Realism

A large blue parrot on a man's shoulder on the subway platform becomes an unfurled golf umbrella; in the new Grey Dog cafe, an otherwise normal looking young man bends down over his muffin as though praying. His nose touches the muffin and then he kisses it. When get to office, immediately call the Contessa to tell her about what seems to be (though can't say why) depraved behavior. Can hear the Contessa shudder on other end of line--Ugh, I've probably dated him, she says.

Monday, August 20, 2007


Receive solar shade ordered for kitchen window on Friday and tell Dave, We can put this up tomorrow! He is not nearly as excited about the shade as I am, which find disappointing. Day begins with early morning making of coffee in kitchen during which tell self that Soon there will be a shade to block that sun! Jenny and I go on walk. In park, see Serena and somehow refrain from telling her about shade. (Question: why is it that at any point during the day that Jenny and I go to the park, we almost always find Serena there too? Is she having trouble at home? Train of thought proceeds quickly, saddling poor Serena and her partner with--variously--physical and or mental abuse, drug addiction, homelessness, severe restless leg syndrome which makes it impossible for her to comfortably sit in one place. Do not care to think about restless leg syndrome or even have phrase uttered or read as it inevitably causes own legs to crawl up spine to neck.) Serena, despite worrisome behavior appears in excellent health. When get home, have brief but hot struggle retrieving drill and toolbox from hall closet and then set about installing shade. Feel self to be some sort of engineering savant--shade goes up without a hitch in 10 minutes flat. Trouble only comes when tear strip of paper around roll off and pull on chain to bring shade down. Even fully extended, shade is a good 13 inches short of sill. Am very angry at online shade manufacturer. (Shades naturally not made online.) Look at confirmation email from company which hope will prove that a mistake has been made. Discover that a mistake has been made, and that the mistake is mine as apparently typed in 36 inches instead of 66. Finding blame with others much more satisfying than finding blame with self, but engage in out of long term habit.

Friday, August 17, 2007


Do not know if anybody else has had a chance to check out the Real Estalker yet(after this last note promise never to mention site again and to keep brand new obsession in private box with all of others), yesterday Your Mama said that she'd be on VH1. Sit through 20 minutes of insipid show about extremely large and expensive houses (i.e. house modeled on Versaille, with (naturally) a Hall of Mirrors--actually a theme among the tackiest of the large houses--do these people not know what happened to the former owners of the real Versailles? Am sure that tempt fate in many ways, but would not like to have the specter of the guillotine at play too.) When the Real Estalker is finally revealed, see that she is a Man. Am shocked. Dave turns to me and says, You couldn't tell from the writing that she was a big queen? To my ear his voice is dripping with scorn, which do not care for at all. Tell him I feel betrayed and confused--I had a clear picture of a woman in my head. He says, You make things up on your blog all the time. I ask, Like what? Dave replies, Like your name. I don't even feel that this is a real answer. Of course I don't use my own name. Ask, What else have I made up? He lists several examples. Reply frostily that it is all emotionally truthful, and walk out of room feeling dignified, artistic, and hurt at Dave's tone with me. Jenny and I rendezvous in the kitchen where we both have secret treats--me 3 chocolate chocolate chip cookies from the stash brought from grandmother's house, and Jenny, 2 Newman's Own Organic Dog treats (cheese flavor--do not recommend taking even a small nibble Just to See what they taste like, even if extremely tempted--will leave it at that). When go back into living room, it dawns on me that Dave is unaware that Jenny and I have been eating fun things without him and that he isn't mad at me at all. I have made up the whole trouble just because my feelings got hurt. (Note: try to remember this for future--will save lots of wear and tear.)

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Turning Point

Can't say why or how, but feel that today is a Turning Point. (A good turning point wish to hastily add.) Hair for once looks neither dull nor greasy, pants are correct length, and am perfectly comfortable with shoes that have on. Have new sunglasses which make me feel both unsquinty and rich. Train comes right away, Oliver and Susan both smile at me when I come in, and Oliver even says, Have you been working out? I think you've lost a lot of weight this summer. Know that it is difficult for Oliver to dish out anything like a compliment so do not even get mad about prase Lot of Weight. (Had not previously know that needed to lose A Lot--a few pounds off of tummy, sure, but not A Lot...worrisome train of thought that recrudesces later in the afternoon.) In middle of day call Dave and tell him about feeling of Turning the corner/point. He says that is called A Good Mood.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

The Real Estalker

Would like to draw your attention to blog which the leg model in LA originally pointed out to me in June, but which didn't take until just now. The Lady who writes the blog is funny and just mean enough. Check out the blog roll to the right.


Attend meeting this morning with people from all around the school and am very pleasantly shocked that the Contessa is there too. We sit next to each other. Tables are set up in big square around which we sit. But before we sit, we are invited by the President's secretary to serve ourselves breakfast. Thankfully, have already eaten delicious breakfast of greek yogurt, golden raisins, walnuts, and peach, and thus am not even remotely tempted by evil looking tray of pastries. Do pour myself a cup of coffee from the industrial sized spigot. Coffee somehow both very weak and very nasty, but as have already poured the stuff into a plastic cup, feel that should punish self for wasting resources and adding to plastic pollution by drinking whole cup. The Contessa has loaded a cheese Danish, a small bunch of grapes, 2 slices of cantolupe, and a bran muffin on her plate, which she grimly plows through, though know from personjal experience that the fruit is musty and that the carbohydrates taste like they've been sitting out for several decades. Ask her if something is the matter. She replies that life is completely unbearable today. The meeting is started and she are welcomed back for the beginning of another school year--do not think that speech is meant cynically, but the Contessa's ennui is infectious. Feel very angry with her and blame her for the world's ills. Meeting over, we walk outside, back to our respective buildings. It is breezy and sunny. The Contessa says, Do you want take a drawing class with me in the fall? I DO and tell her so. Am so excited that the world is fixed.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Trimphant Return

Wish to apologize for long absence, only partially explained by trip to the west coast. In San Francisco, Elizabeth delightful, Sigrid difficult but loving, and Sigrid's husband in dire need of Lexapro. After visit to San Francisco, take flight up to Seattle to see grandmother, accompanied by Sigrid and Elizabeth, when find out that husband is not go to with us, hear self say in lying tone, Can't he just get off work? It won't be any fun without him! Sigrid naturally sees right through this and we have a brief by nasty fight about why I don't like her husband. Thankfully, nobody but Elizabeth witnesses spat--fight ends when Sigrid says that I don't want her to be happy and then attempts to leave room and slam door, but instead slips on tile in kitchen and falls on face. Thankfully, she laughs first and hardest, and we have a very pleasant time together for rest of vacation. Dave and Jenny join us in Seattle. Jenny very traumatized by her flight, and spends all of first afternoon under grandmother's bed and night in grandmother's bed with grandmother. The next day Jenny ventures down to the beach with me and Dave. She immediately runs briskly across the pebbly beach, stops at water's edge, and barks her head off. Sigrid, joining us a half hour later--a half hour of which is mostly filled by Jenny's barks, says that she must be reliving her traumatic time in New Orleans. She MUST be remembering the flood. For the sake of family peace, let this idiotic comment pass. Rest of afternoon is spent at beach (drizzly and we are all wearing light rain coats) digging for clams with Elizabeth and Jenny. At end of afternoon, Sigrid dares me to jump in the water. Tell her that I will if she will, and begin to psyche self up for inevitable dip. Sigrid say we should all go in--we can take Elizabeth back up to the house. David looks horrified at the suggestion and hurriedly interjects that there is no need to invite him, he will watch Elizabeth. Water is cold, but invigorating, and skin stops being blue after hot shower. The weather turns better and have a good stretch of days of tanning, swimming, kayaking, shoving cookies and pies in mouth throughout day and when the clock strikes five, guzzling wine and trying not to scream at Sigrid when she is irritating during the Scrabble game. Leave Whidbey Island tanned, chunky, and feeling tearful--Elizabeth wails when we leave (later find out that she was crying because we got to take cookies with us and she couldn't have a cookie). Flight massively delayed and feel extremely worried about Jenny's state. Finally board plane and selfishly begin to worry less about Jenny and more about self as we sit on runway for 2 hours. Couple and small children behind us speak in crystal clear voices about how irritated they are in snively, sarcastic voices, which makes me feel righteously un-irritated and patient except with them because they are the devil, the devil's wife, and their child. The child, who is about two-and-a-half, actually is the most sensible of the three. She precociously notes that She probably can't have any ginger ale because she doesn't see the cart. Her mother replies, That's true, we have to wait until we get up in the air, but do you want some Mommy Milk instead? Yes, please! answers the small person. Feel ill for the rest of the flight. Jenny is also ill during flight (presumably for other reasons) and when pick her up at odd sized baggage window, find that travel crate is besmeared with dog vomit. (Apparently Jenny has a secret taste for cherries as find 3 pits stuck in puke.) Dave thankfully takes over while I take Jenny out to curb so that we can both breath Fresh Air. When get home, Jenny immediately retreats under the bed and feel like beast to have dragged her across country twice in steerage. But the next day she is good at new at the park, very likely having forgotten her trip completely. Have said before and will say again now that the memory of a dog is often something to be admired.