Wonder Underwear

This often happens to mortals as well....not me of course I'm speaking of other mortal types who have memory lapses.

 

Mad Mad Mystery

While the TomKat divorce spins itself into butter this week I finally found a blip about the demise of a marriage that baffles me!

Elisabeth Moss married Fred Armisen, a kookie match for sure but then Christina Hendricks married Geoffrey Arend...must be something in the water cooler at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce.

When news broke of Elisabeth and Fred splitting I was shocked but more awed about how there wasn't any information as to why?? Not even a sighting of irreconcilable differences.  Just over, kaput annnnnndddd scene. So my heart leapt at this mention in La Daily Musto.

In other celebs-clocking-each-other news, Mad Men's Elisabeth Moss has finally spoken out about her ex, Fred Armisen:

She tells People:

"One of the greatest things I heard someone say about him is, 'He's so great doing impersonations. But the greatest impersonation he does is that of a normal person.'

"To me, that sums it up ...I've never told anyone that. And I don't want to waste any more of my life talking about it."

Case closed.

BUT WAIT I'M STILL CONFUSED!! WAH HAPPENED?? 

How weird did it get?? Was he bringing Portlandia home with him at night? Were there bee costumes?? Bubble wrapped guinea pigs in the freezer? I mean don't make me go all Jessica Fletcher on your ass. Give it up!!

Even in her passing.....

Nora Ephron keeps giving me insight into the mess that is my life even two days after her death. Via a lovely article in The New Yorker written by the hot, new "it" girl star, director, & writer of HBO's GIRLS. SEEING NORA EVERYWHERE by Lena Dunham

1) "You can't meet someone until you've become what you're becoming."

No wonder I've been alone for 25years. I'm still caccooned in the fear of being. Don't get me wrong I have peeled back layer upon layer to get down to the me I want to be. The me I know I am, but in its equally haunting refrain I hear my own mother telling me, "No one will love you until you love yourself." Yup, both are true obviously, only I didn't think they would be the remedy to each other. How do YOU love yourself? Answer: By becoming who you are, not by hiding or pretending to be a stage manager or an executive assistant who could give a flying fig about fundraising. Geez one session with Nora could have saved my thousands in therapy.

2) "You cannot wait around for someone to give you permission to tell your stories."

Crap. 

I was hoping that's how it worked. Someone would read one of my stories, blogs or think one of my jokes was particularly funny and then boom! You are granted permission into the writing room of your choice where there are snacks in the communal kitchen and you can bring your dog to work. A freshly scrubbed hipster face pops in every 20 minutes to ask if YOU need anything while you create the "second" greatest story ever told.

If I don't tell the stories that are marinating within me then I am not my truest self and therefore I'll never become the person I'm supposed to be to attract the person who's supposed to love me. Instead I'll die alone a bitter, frustrated writer at the bottom of a whiskey bottle who's true talent and voice were wasted because she was too afraid to be judged. Well I don't like that one bit. 

I ranted on Facebook yesterday after reading there is ANOTHER play being produced with a 5:1 male to female ratio. This makes me want to vomit in my hat. Only I don't have a leg to stand on because I'm a "bag of cats" over anyone reading/judging my plays, who am I kidding they wouldn't get produced anyway because none of the women die, get raped or have an abortion.

So with Mixed Fruit, my web series I'm co-writing with a friend I am taking baby steps toward myself. The writer. Let's hope the rest works itself out.

A tiny bit of both.

I've stumbled across the perfect picture that blends what my childhood memories consist of... a mix of old and new. Familiar friends from the hundred acre wood and a galaxy far, far away.....silly old lightsaber. Hahaha love it!

Really? It is a Circle.

When you bury your parents in your twenties parts of you die. You leave them in the ground or at sea. In the beginning, you barely notice the pieces are missing because the pain has you shattered. Then as the years roll by you change, your subconscious lets go of those dreams you used to have of moments that will never be. You let them go and in their place you harden. You think, "I’m fine, I can do this, I’m just growing up and moving on." Only you’re blindly stuck in the concrete of loss.

Then suddenly a baby is in your life and you throw open those vaults you thought you’d never visit again. The joy comes flooding back sweeping you out of the doldrums and life appears new and bright, albeit covered in baby spew. I’m never going to be someone’s mother I’ve always known I am much too selfish for that, but I will be someone’s Aunt Slappy. I can still build forts, believe that fairies are real and know the way to Narnia. Adventure lies ahead and lucky for Lily I’ve still got my toys.