Saint Patrick's Poetic Erotica

Meryl Streep Visits Life by Chocolate: IWSG

 

Welcome to March of 2015's IWSG. As you know, it's thanks to the incomparable Alex J. Cavanaugh that scores of us gather to admit to insecurities and lend each other encouragement.  I strive for laughter. That's what we need most. Sure, we need love too, but laughter's free (it requires no investment) and easily accessible. So let's move onto mocking the rich and famous.   Key: Robyn's dialog / Meryl's actual quotes , fake quotes

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm ecstatic to present you with perhaps the most phenomenal, versatile, and exceptionally gifted actress of all time. Let's welcome, Meryl Streep! Jennifer Aniston pops up and takes pictures, cheerfully shouting, "Selfie! Selfie!" Meryl sports an aged, re-re-polished Oscar. Robyn greets Meryl with a high-five. She directs Meryl to sit in an Oscar de la Renta chair. Robyn plops onto a gray folding chair designed by and for Nobody Important (e.g., Macaulay Culkin). You're so amazing! My goodness! I remember so, so long ago when the Oscars meant The Meryl Streep Show. Robyn chuckles. And you're still so elegant even though you're a 65 year old senior. WOW! 65! How does it feel to take roles now as women in their fifties? Meryl's eyebrows shoot up. Frankly, the reason I chose the movies that I did was based on where they were being filmed.
Robyn nods. Makes sense. I mean, why belt out endless whiny versions of "Mamma Mia, here I go again" if you can't tour Greece? Tell me, with all your talent and glory and age, how do you stay grounded, Merls?

You can't get spoiled if you do your own ironing.
Interesting. That's why I'm not spoiled, Robyn jokes (but not really), I don't iron!

Furthermore, if everyone that had two cars had a Prius instead of an SUV, we wouldn’t be in the Middle East right now.
I'm beginning to realize why they sat you and J Lo together in the front row for the very --Robyn raises her index and third fingers to make quotation marks in the air--special guests.
I jest, Ms. Streep, but you're a wonderful actress and a strong family woman. You've raised four kids and have a long term marriage.

I once read that in any good marriage, one partner is the gardener and the other is the garden. We take it in turns to be either. Robyn nods slowly, perplexed. You mean one of you spreads seeds while the other hoes?
Meryl changes the topic. I love Chinese movies and don't get enough of them in the United States and that's why people hold film festivals to make others aware of films in other countries.
Yeah, Godzilla was pretty cool. Cheech 'n Chong's stuff is classic too. What's next for you, girlfriend? Have you, say, ever written a book? Meryl bites her lip. Well, uh -- she looks at her diamond encased Oscar de la Renta watch -- I'm afraid I must depart. Robyn fist-pumps the air, as a sign of victory. I take that as a "no." Jennifer Aniston scurries to get in a selfie with Robyn and Meryl. While posing for the photo, Robyn checks Oscar for anatomical correctness.*  The show ends.

Thank you for visiting.
We would like to thank our sponsors, the cast and crew of Birdman, for making it all possible.

*It has none.

First Love, Woman on the Verge of Paradise

Writing a book is like running a marathon in Death Valley. You keep seeing the finish line, only to realize it was a just a mirage. -self quote, said now.

I'm sorry to be a tease about my upcoming novel, Woman on the Verge of Paradise. It's been done for a while. I can't tell you when it's coming out. I'm trying - very selectively - for traditional publication first. I want to put it out yesterday. For now, though, here's a scene.

This takes you into my third grade classroom, during art time. I'd just competed against Joseph in hand ball. Flushed with puppy-crush energy, I quickly let him win and ran to the back of the line to await my next turn, hoping the bell would ring first.~~~

   “Robyn, dear, come on over here,” Mrs. Siegal said.

   Gulp. What’s going on? I walked to the back of the classroom, where my teacher sat holding a picture to her chest, her face gushing with exciting news. Joseph stood next to her and donned a  very proud smile.

   “Look what Joseph drew.” Mrs. Siegal flipped the paper over to display Joseph’s artwork.

   I studied the picture, a crayon drawing of me in the blue and green checkered dress I was wearing, with my yellow socks, brown buckle shoes, and spirals of curly brown hair. A big red u-shaped curve centered my face.  My nose, a black L. My eyes, cobalt blue, and my eyelashes, long and pretty. Above me, huge letters spelled out: “I Love Rodyn.”

   I stood frozen—scared, overwhelmed, unworthy.

   “I feel sick,” I told Mom the next morning. “I think I need to stay home from school today.”
   “Okay, honey.”

   Wait, how could it be so easy? You didn’t feel my forehead, shove a thermometer under my tongue, ask what’s wrong or spoil me with tapioca pudding? A bit disappointed and highly remorseful, I kept quiet while viewing a day’s worth of television.

   Upon returning to Room 8, the flame between me and Joseph extinguished. I eyed my shoes whenever he strolled by. As far as I can remember, we never talked again; I’m not sure if we’d ever spoken in the first place. Nobody else breathed a word about our short and sweet love.

   It’s as if it never happened. ~~~~ 

Be well, and have a great first week of March.!