Saturday, February 19, 2011

Wiener Hair

I had wiener hair night before last.

I was going to be interviewed for a short film to go on YouTube, advertising Freak, and had decided to go for a sort of Rita Hayworth-head-of-Gilda hair look.  So I scrubbed my skull, moussed and brushed, then began the long process of rolling minute amounts of hair into sponge rollers, which I would then sleep in.  When I was at long last finished, I started laughing at my reflection in the mirror.  I stood there in a dumpy robe, grey rollers all over my head like little Vienna sausages, no makeup and a couple days of poor sleep bagging under my eyes.  I stuck a pen in my mouth, let it droop like a soggy cigarette, struck a pose and said, "What's the mattah?" in my best Daisy Duck impersonation.  There was a hilarious Disney cartoon way back when, where Donald Duck marries the fetching Daisy only to witness her curler ed and chain-smoking morning after persona. At that moment, I was the embodiment of a cartoon duck, complete with fuzzy robe.  It was enchanting.

The interview seemed to go well although I was a bit self conscious.  I want so much for the book to do well, to get out there, to help as many as possible.  Today was amazing.  We had a server meeting at an ungodly hour this morning, where we all had to drag our night owl selves in at the crack of dawn to discuss and taste test the new menu.  One of my co-workers suggested I bring copies of Freak to the meeting and sell them to the other wait staff.  I thought that was a good idea, so packed a big satchel and hauled it in.  To my amazement, I sold every single copy I'd brought.  It was astonishing.  What great people I work with, to have such care of me that they'd want to buy my book.  I'm so damn lucky.  Remnants of my wiener hair still drifted in my shaggy ponytail, and several people touched it with a smile.  They all wanted signatures, and I drew comics in a few of them.  It as fun.  When I got home, my roomie said she'd had a deja vu moment the day before, seeing me sitting on the couch in the sunshine, being interviewed.  She said, "It's already begun.  It has.  It's already begun."  Wish me luck that I'll be able to go the whole way and do what needs to be done to make my memoir a success.  I feel almost a moral obligation to do that.  Thanks for reading my blog and caring enough about my rambles to keep me moving ahead.  It's true, too.  This has already begun.

Love, R

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