The last twenty four hours have been something else. Yesterday my phone started ringing again, yipee! I got a telegram and didn't think it was a big deal if I left the house looking a little bit of mess. My winter coat was tattered. While white is a terrible choice for NYC I liked the color and design when I got it. I'm a woman. There is a part of me that strives to be as smart as Sandra Day O'Connor and Hillary Clinton but I have the vanity of Marilyn Monroe and Mae West. What I am trying to say is that when I see something pretty that's all I see and the common sense turns off.
I got to the London Hotel and was directed to the Hyde Room. When I walked up the stairs I saw a gaggle of girls. Apparently One Direction was in town and they were all camped out. As I am climbing the stairs and see these teeny-boppers one who was quite pretty asks, "Are you the puppet girl from My Strange Addiction?" I told her yes and shook my head gently. She mentioned she had watched my entire episode on youtube. Then again this generation is all about the YT. Anyway she's like, "You acted like you knew me." Well you have seen my episode, met my puppet children, and technically met my mother and sister so you know me. Why not?
We kabbitzed for a bit and they asked if I had puppets. I pulled Sonny out, my puppet boyfriend. Cause they were young I kept it clean, well we did. Anyway they asked how the show had helped me. I don't bring Sonny on dates anymore. They asked how Sonny felt and he said relieved. They also said I deserved love because I am a beautiful woman.
Anyway they asked what I was doing and I told them the truth, a telegram. They thought that was awesome. But I did mention on my episode I delivered telegrams in order to support my little puppet children, or occasional ingrates as I refer to them. They also told me they met Beiber and he was mean to them. Then again, he had just had his heart broken. They asked me which member of One Direction I liked. I felt like a pedo even thinking of crushing on those barely legal boys. One of the girls mentioned her forty-four year old mother liked Harry and Harry likes MILFs.
I am not eighteen. However, am I MILF age yet? On the otherhand, Harry does have money.
The telegram was a success. I gave the girls my tweedily deet so they could KIT. Keep in touch, I am writing like I am signing a year book now. These youngins.....
I left the hotel and saw a girl who was also there to see One Direction. She said she was coming from the Rockaways. Where she lived they had no power and were improvising for heat. She shared that coming to Manhattan seemed like crawling out of the end of the world zone, the city of the mole people, and re-entering the modern world where there were things like lights, cars, and technology. I asked how she was dealing without electric. She said she was used to it at this point and didnt care whether or not she got it back. Still it was crazy. It made me grateful.
I got home and discovered I might have the oppertunity to have a part of my book published. I also might get a new writing job. More on those later.
So awesome I chirped on the phone to my Mama.
Then I got a nasty email from my bank that I had insufficient funds :( WTF!?!?! I had deposited checks, paypal, and then written my rent check. Granted, it said the transfer was going through and usually did. I checkd my paypal, the money didnt go through. They had usually been pretty good. Then it occurred to me, this was all the fault of Superstorm Sandy, that bitch. I had transferred the money the week a lot of people lost power and when a lot of the banks had computers that were down. Somewhere along the line the money did indeed get transferred, but because the technology had been screwed up because of Mother Nature I looked like a moron.
I called my bank and they confirmed me. The transfer had never gone through. They said they had quite a few people having this issue because of the damage from Sandy to the computers and such. They also said that I had most of the funds in my account and perhaps my landlord's bank had a different policy and may have cleared me. But just in case I was told by them and everyone around me to give my landlord the heads up. This wasn't my fault. Screw you Sandy, insert middle finger.
This morning I had a seven in the morn delivery. I looked like I had rolled out of bed. With my chicken suit on my back I walked down the street wondering when it got so cold. Then I realized it was November. While it seems surreal it had already snowed once, actually we had a blizzard. Mother Nature needs her Prozac. Then again with all the pollution in the world we have made her bi-polar.
That's today's adventure, as in later today. Either way, I didn't lose my power. I just have been put in a place of financial insecurity. I still have my property and my well being. It's just a taste of life after a natural disaster and a prick from a thorn. Still it was an unpleasant surprise.
I found myself walking along in my beat up white coat. My hair was messed up because I had just rolled out of bed. I could hear my friend Roger hissing from the after life, mad as hell in his Chanel with his Gucci, "Stop looking broke and poor when you see me. If you keep it up I will give you a cup so you can beg for change. As long as you are going to look it why not act it?"
I went to get my coffee and greeted my coffee man by the name Boss. It is a term of endearment for our coffeemen and deli people in NYC. He corrected me and said he preferred my friend. Then he proceeded to give me free coffee, a free donut, and free hand sanitizer. I didn't look that bad.
Or maybe I did and he was giving me free things.
I went to deliver the telegram and woke the girl up. When she saw a giant chicken I am sure she regretted every brownie she ever ate in college. Then she realized I was real and for a slit second probably wanted to kill her brother. But then she laughed. I didn't want to kill her brother, he gave me a forty dollar tip.
I wanted to kiss him. MWAH. Maybe he is the hot man and the good man I deserve. I just want someone who has a part time job, minimal track marks, and a GED. It's not a lot to ask for but these days it seems so. Sometimes you have to work around things. Like for example, if he believes he turns into a werewolf every full moon but is a generous provider, just pull the blinds down so he can't see the moon. Solves all your problems.
Walking home I felt good. Everything was going to be alright. The worst was over. I still had my crown; that wasn't broken. My hair was just a little messed. Maybe I need to start dressing hotter in case I am photographed. Maybe next time I pay rent I should write on my check, "PRINCESS DROPPED DOWN TO EARTH" on amount. No money, just a phrase. I am on TV, I have published a book, fans know me and my children. Why should I be subjected to trivial things like bills?
Then I remember even Obama pays taxes and that the US stressed in their Constitution that there should be no royalty.
Either way, I have already gotten to work and got paid and it ain't even ten.
Okay, the hair is messed up, the space ship has crashed, but bitches this tiara ain't cracked.
I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl
Come to my book signing
Thursday November 15 (tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
510 Washington St
See you there