Another Odd Little Morning

I’m having another weird morning. I guess maybe I’m still grieving and trying to pretend that I’m not.

Every morning this week, it seems the moment I’m awake, I’m already in the headspace of — I don’t know what to call it — damage control? Trying not to crumble to pieces?

In the downstairs bathroom, before I fed the cats, I turned on the bathroom light to see how my hair-growth serum was working (it is, gang!), I was appalled by how my face looked. I looked like I’d been crying all night. As far as I know, I was sleeping all night.

And I was in a great frame of mind when I fell asleep. I’d been texting with Peitor about the “Lita” script we’d worked on during the day. And I was looking forward to the work I was going to do today on the play.

Anyway. For whatever reason, I guess my soul is just crying, for now.

However, I am really excited about today, all other things aside, because I can really feel that whole new segment of Tell My Bones shifting into place.  It’s probably still going to take me a couple of days to get it onto paper the way I envision it, but I can just feel it all inside of me. It’s ready to come out.

I was reading over some pages of the play yesterday and happened to read one small chunk of dialogue that the character named “A White Minister” recites, as he’s having a sort of blasphemous meltdown on the pulpit.  And it read so smoothly and it was so direct and straightforward, even though he’s nuts. And I remembered how long I labored over that one chunk of dialogue. I mean, for over a week. I had such a difficult time with that. And now, all these months later, there it is, just part of the overall play. A handful of sentences. Nothing to indicate that I had lost my mind over it — and I think there was some sort of heatwave going on at the time, too.

It’s just funny.  No one would ever know. But at the same time, those kinds of things (multiplied by years of encountering those sorts of stumbling blocks while I’m working — usually on a novel), have just shown me that eventually the words you need do come and they end up surprising you, in a good way. So now, when something takes a while to hit the page, I know that when the right words arrive it is going to be worth the wait.

(I was just now interrupted by Facebook alerting me that a wonderful old friend from my NYC days has a birthday today. So I popped over to FB to wish him a happy birthday, and I noticed that one of my extremely-intense-mob-guy, super-short-lived-fiance’s from the Bronx is having a birthday soon. But guess what? He’s suddenly 10 years younger than me! He used to be one year younger than me. But he looks good — in a sort of intense, scary kind of way.) (I’m on his shit-list now, in a really big way. He has quite an impressive grasp on four-letter-and-more-letter words, gang (including but not limited to a recent phone call: “You fucking cunt, you come to fucking New York and you can’t even fucking call me? What is your fucking problem, you are such a fucking lying cunt” followed closely by “come on, Marilyn, come back to New York, let’s get married. I fucking love you, even though you are so full of shit, why do you have to be such a cunt?”). I didn’t have a ready answer for all that, but anyway, I doubt I will be wishing him a happy birthday on Facebook this year. Although I’m sure he would welcome a reason to pick up the phone and yell at me again. )

Yes, I digress.

Anyway. This morning, at the breakfast table — it was still dark out. I happened to look toward the sink and saw this:

L to R: Huckleberry, Lucy and Weenie, at about 6:30am.

It was so unexpected. I thought I was alone in the kitchen, since they were all done eating. I was so happy I had my phone on the table. I don’t usually have it anywhere near me at that early hour.

You’ll notice that the spot for the dishwasher is a gaping hole… Two years ago, when I bought the house, at the top of my list was: Buy a new dishwasher. I’m not really clear on what happened to that idea.

Well, I submitted the piece from Blessed By Light yesterday for the Literary Arts Fair (see a post below somewhere).  They have a strict word-limit of 1200 words. So I had to remove 428 words from “The Guitar Hero Goes Home” — and, no, it wasn’t 428 uses of the word “fuck.” So I edited it down and made it “family friendly” as requested, and sent it off to them. But if they end up approving the piece itself, I would still have to sort of audition it, if I’m understanding them correctly. You know, read it in front of the Board members to make sure I’m not some droning lunatic, or something. Actually, I don’t really understand it, but I did submit the piece. So we’ll see.

And on that note, I will close by saying that quite a few more photos and little videos from Nick Cave’s Conversation in Essen, Germany, kept coming through on Instagram well into the night, and all of them were really just amazing. So different from the other two shows in Germany this past week. It seemed like it, anyway. Tonight he is in Bremen, Germany. I always just love seeing what all these various theaters look like, you know? They are each just so different.

All righty, I have decided to leave you with this, today. It was the first thing in my head when I awoke at 5:02am. This is another one of those songs that I adored in my girlhood. I was 7, almost 8, when this was a massive hit on AM radio. I had a little transistor radio, it looked like this:

It had one of those tiny ear pieces, and I would lie in my bed at night in the dark, with that ear piece in my ear, and I’d listen to the radio, and whenever this song came on, I was just in heaven, gang. Man, I loved this song!! And my little 7-year-old pelvic area would rock in time to the — what is this, a samba rhythm? A cha-cha? I don’t really know.

Anyway, I leave you with “Somethin’ Stupid” by Frank & Nancy Sinatra.  Have a great Saturday wherever you are in the world! I’m gonna go wash my yucky hair and then get down to work here on Tell My Bones. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Somethin’ Stupid”

I know I stand in line until you think you have the time
To spend an evening with me
And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there’s a chance
You won’t be leaving with me
And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like “I love you”

I can see it in your eyes
That you despise the same old lies you heard the night before
And though it’s just a line to you, for me it’s true
And never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say
To make the meaning come through
But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you
The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night’s so blue
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like “I love you”

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red and, oh, the night’s so blue
And then I go and spoil it all by sayin’ something stupid like “I love you”

I love you
I love you
I love you

I love you

c – 1966 C. Carson Parks

6 thoughts on “Another Odd Little Morning”

  1. I also had one of those transistor sets back in the day — had it under my pillow all night, listening to the very weak station Radio Luxembourg: only all-night station you could get here at that time.

    1. My mom told me I wasn’t allowed to take my radio to school but I did anyway and then accidentally spilled fruit punch all over it during lunch and it never played again and my mom wouldn’t buy me another radio because I’d taken it to school when I wasn’t supposed to! 😂😳

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