I had to scramble to turn on my computer, because I just discovered that I’m sitting behind royalty—or at least, a queen of enormous proportions. Apparently, a stylist for some huge agency is sitting behind me, holding court before two college kids. The girl he’s talking to is enormously fascinated, so he spends the evening regaling her in a high-pitched drone with tales of...
“Oh, she is like, so spoiled! I mean, she has, like, more freckles than you can ever believe. They once bought out the entire salon for three hours—I mean, we take in, like, $90,000 a day, and there is no WAY they paid anything close to what they should have paid for the money we lost! And her entourage—her mother, her best friend, her publicist, came in HOURS before she did, just to scope everything else. I think she was in for, maybe half an hour, at most.”
“She is SO short! SO short! She's just SOOOOOO short! And I was like, because you can tell I’m, like, a big mouth, so I was like, like, like “Jessica, are you packed?” And she said, “Well, I just did the Today show,” and I was like, “But honey, it is six o’clock in the morning!"
Who’s Shayna Steele? “She’s like, a best friend of mine. A big Broadway horse.” Did they do a Broadway musical version of National Velvet?
More Paris Hilton
“She can’t sing. I’m sorry, she just can’t! And I had to listen to her song, when she bought out my salon, which, did I mention, takes in $90,000 a day? But have you heard Nicole Ritchie song?” No, and I haven't seen her eat, either...at this point, I’m starting to think that someone in this train has a bit of an obsession with Paris Hilton...
“The Girls next Door”
I want to be best friends with the girls next door. Aren’t the just fabulous? I'd love to get them in my $90,000 a day salon. I like, so want to be Bridget’s girlfriend, you know? Isn’t she the BEST? Isn’t she?” Oh, I tell you, that girl is just FAB-ulous!”
Some nameless tramp (we'll call her Ramalita)
She's not famous, but of note, my designer parrot opted to spend the final half of the train ride squawking about some former friend of his that apparently the girl he was talking to also knew, too. “You know, she borrowed $500 from me and never paid me back? Oh yeah, it was when she got hooked on drugs, and was kicked out of her house by her parents. Then, of course, she got knocked up and had her wedding at a white trash chapel. She’ll probably kill the baby with all that alcohol and cocaine. But you know, I guess I’d be nice if I saw her again. I’d say, “Hey! Sorry you got knocked up, sweetie!”
After the first half an hour, I found myself missing the Russians, very badly, with their stories of psychiatrists and killer rats. Actually, it might be fun to see my mysterious faceless, yet very shrill stylist encounter a pack of killer rats on the streets of Moscow...talk about makeovers...
I am feeling strangely downcast, today. I still get this incredible feeling that I am not operating to my fullest potential And I hate this feeling, simply hate it. What should I be doing differently? These past few weeks I’ve established a sense of financial control that I’ve never had before. Career-wise, I’m being asked to take on increasingly high-profile assignments. Writing-wise, I move forward every day. It may not be as quickly as I’d like, but it is forward progress.
I think I know what the one factor is that’s really weighing me down, and I have to make an effort to keep it under control.
But in a way, do I envy the Queen? It’s a scary thing to break out of a box, only to discover that you’re boxed in, only, you’re now stuck in another box. And in many ways, I’m living in two boxes, now, and it does do a number on the brain. All of this wrestling does a number on my focus, because there are so many things to focus on. Quite frankly, it’s almost a miracle that I’m able to accomplish as much as I am.
Received a rejection letter, yesterday. That probably has something to do with my feeling of sadness. I do have another query lined up, and spent some time today working on the fine details.