"And this year's winner for Best Actress in an overwrought autobiographical drama..."
Me?!! Are you kidding? Me?!! But where's the red carpet? Where are all the photographers? The media? I just have to accept this honor all by myself in my very own living room?
Yes, Trish, you do. Take another pain pill and stop complaining.
Okay, I am not complaining. My surgery went well. Today I am feeling the pain of stitches in my belly. But I do feel that the infection is gone and when I finish the antibiotics I think I am going to feel like a new woman. Oh God do I want to feel like a new woman. Or maybe just ANOTHER woman. Someone else. Like...oh, I don't know, Julia Roberts maybe. She seems awfully happy. Last night post surgery I watched La Vie En Rose. The Edith Piaf movie. (The actress is amazing.) But Edith had just an awfully rough life and I'm watching her age and she's all bent over and taking pills and I stood up to go to the bathroom and I was all bent over and about to take a handful of pain pills and I realized that La Vie En Rose is a great movie to watch when you're feeling sorry for yourself. You think your life is bad? Oh no. Check out Edith's life.
Or Judy Garland's. Talented, tragic women. And they seemed to end up with the same eyebrows. None. Pencil brows. I guess the lesson is that if you find yourself drawing in your eyebrows with a pencil then you know it's curtains. You are dead meat.
But here's the thing. I think I'm on the road to recovery...Again. Feel a little shitty today but it's already almost two o'clock and in Antarctica I would already be asleep so I'm thinking that tomorrow will be much better. And who knows about the day after that.
There is a movie out now called "Teeth". It's about a young woman who has teeth on her vagina. Don't we all?
Vagina. Why is that word so hard to say? Aren't you embarrassed just reading that word. Penis is not so bad. Vagina is hard. Penis is easy. Didn't Laurence Olivier say that? Or was he talking about comedy? And can you tell I'm on pain pills? One, actually. I am not one of those writers who can write stoned or drunk or on anything except vitamins so this is a first. And why am I talking about vagina? Maybe I took a viagra by mistake.
Change the subject, Trish.
Right. Have you seen the poster for that Terminator TV show? It's a girl with only the top half of her body. Wires are coming out where her...bottom half would be and her top half is naked and her breasts are covered with her long hair. Sickly erotic, I suppose. And it's on BIG posters. Golly gosh in my day young men would sneak a Playboy and check out the breasts but the girls had bottoms, although demurely covered. Now they don't even have bottoms. Just wires. Who needs a bottom anyway, I guess.
Oh my goodness, I seem to be on the same subject, sort of. I wonder what he removed during surgery? True story, they did wheel me into the wrong operating room at first and I almost spent the rest of my life without a kidney.
Aha, well I see I do not become a Faulkner when I write while I'm a bit high. Or a Fitzgerald. I just become stupid. Maybe tomorrow I'll mix my pain pills with a little scotch. Or is that a guy thing? Maybe I should cut my hair off and wear frumpy skirts like Gertrude Stein. Now she had a bottom.
Sorry. I will come back tomorrow when my mind is out of the gutter. La Vie En Rose is La Vie En Rose is La Vie En Rose....................