“I’m too old for this bullshit”
At least that’s what I say
While muttering under my breath
Judging the other old broad
Who is simply clinging to dreams
Long since shattered by genes
and other people’s opinions…
“I am too old for this bullshit”
I keep telling myself these lies
While I, too, am just as insecure
Aging not as fast as the other bird
But clinging fast to a pipedream
Fostered by hard work
and expensive fucking fillers…
“We are both frauds, you and I”
I will say I’m almost 50
while I pop my heart meds
and stare at my smooth face
in the mirror
made deceptively young
while my insides rot away
like everybody else’s…
“We are both frauds, you and I”
Hiding your real birthday
popping your pills
photoshopping your wrinkles
made deceptively young
while your soul rots away
with your own delusions…
But the biggest truth this old bitch can spew:
I am still glad I am nothing quite like you
That, too, is fraudulent,
we’re both the same
The only difference
Lies in our pain.
I pay $2000 USD PER MONTH, OUT OF MY OWN POCKET for health care insurance. I pay more for this ‘premium’ healthcare than I do for my house mortgage. Even with this exorbitant rate, it still doesn’t cover everything. I still have out of pocket deductibles to meet, etc.
On top of this, I pay a concierge fee to my primary care physician, as her office is sick of dealing with the insurance companies and their regulations- so add a few hundred bucks per month to that-
It is a scary, ridiculous, and sad reality in America.
Still, I’d expect decent care from my doctors with the money I am shelling out. Unfortunately, this hasn’t always been the case, in my experience.
I’ve had to fight tooth and nail- with the doctors, the insurance companies- to advocate for myself. I am so glad that I did, in retrospect.
I know a lot of Americans equate ‘socialized medicine’ and ‘free healthcare to all’ with the Cold War and Red Scare- believing that if they received affordable care, our country would plunge into a communist society reminiscent of the Hunger Games movies.
As a person who has lived abroad half of her adult life in countries with socialized medicine I can absolutely tell you that this isn’t the case.
It is FUCKING HEINOUS that we all have to go bankrupt for the US insurance companies.
I don’t understand why Americans think it is acceptable to pay more than their mortgages for the most rudimentary of health care insurance.
Our middle class is eroding. People are dying because they are scared to go to the doctor and/or can’t afford to.
They added the new “French Kiss” movie site on Facebook.
As an aside, they sadly and hilariously misspelled the co-author’s name. Her name is Christine-Marie Liwag Dixon- and it was changed to “Ludwig” a number of times, even after we pointed this out.
The saddest part was when Christine tried to participate in our group chats with these people, they’d ignore her comments completely, as if she were invisible.
It’s been corrected now on the page, but it reminds me of this meme from “Parks and Recreation”:
I thought about things, about winding this feud up and getting back to real life, because it’s like arguing with aliens.
What these people seem to not comprehend, because they don’t seem to display typical human emotion, was that the proper thing to would have been:
1. NOT HAVE A PERSON CALL AND THREATEN MY HOUSEHOLD IN THE FIRST PLACE
2. APOLOGIZED FOR THESE THINGS and addressed the part where a small child had been caught in their crosshairs AND TRAUMATIZED.
I don’t know what some folks are taught, but there has to be some sort of moral high ground.
They only seem to understand narcissism and fake victimization. It’s all for the glory for them, apparently. Nothing else and nobody else matters.
That is a sad state of affairs for them, in my opinion.
Suddenly, I find my blog seems to be quite popular in the Netherlands and Belgium, where they live on the Antwerp/Kapellen/Putte border area.
People have actually been quite decent about this and I am touched by some of the messages received from you. I thank you all so much for your support.
Dank je wel et Merci Beaucoup, jamais en altijd.
I have always loved the Dutch and Flemish people.
I only had ONE semi-nasty message from her camp- it was a fellow from Instagram.
I can absolutely see how this person could manipulate others into feeling sorry for them, to do her bidding. I was ONE OF THESE PEOPLE originally. I totally get it.
I will post below:
UPDATE: HER ‘GAP LAWYER’ WAS A STOCK PHOTO- NICE TRY. SHE USED A ROYALTY FREE STOCK PHOTO TO THREATEN ME THIS TIME.
Saw an UNKNOWN call come in on the phone. It was the actress.
We recorded it all.
Basically, the summary:
I had to tell her that it was less about credits & more about the actual THREATS:
ONE SIMPLY DOES NOT HAVE strangers call and threaten to fly to Amereeeeeca and attack someone/their family.
She simpered “Why did you write that?”
Me: “We NEVER have strangers call others & threaten to attack them in their homes”
S: “WHY DID YOU WRITE THIS, WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?”
Me: “Please re-read manuscript”
LATER, I receive THIS email:
She is now having sales ladies from the Gap attack & serve me with legalese.
Things must be mighty bad in the movie industry if her legal representation works in retail.
Since I saved and screenshot-ted everything she wrote- and video’d all the calls, with witnesses in the room, go ahead. Send you legal reps from Dollar Tree next.
Also, though I am not one to talk, Tilly ought to use spellcheck.
So… I wrote a screenplay as a favor to a former admirer’s 50 yr old actress wife. I find out later that she was supposed to actually write it herself for Cannes, but she was too busy with her 27 yr old Dutch trailer park lover and his drugs/baby mama probs to write it.
Oh, and I was instructed to not let anyone know she’d been born in 1968, instead of 1970, as her IMBD indicates. Growing old is a blessing, but I digress…
By “admirer”, y’all know what I mean. He had been a good friend, as well. I must’ve had an impact on him, he named his children the names I chose 20 yrs ago-I had no idea he’d been saddled with such a scary problem until much, much later…
She’d been talking to me off and on for a few years, I had no idea she even knew who I was. We followed each other on IG. I was simply friendly and interested in keeping with the niceties. Well, one day she discloses that she knows WHO I am and basically pukes out all her marital and personal problems to me.
I feel SO SORRY for the poor thing and she asks me to write a script for the 2018 Cannes Film Festival because ‘she can’t deal’ with the drama in her life and convinces me that her husband has heinously abused her/never loved her, which is the reason why he allows her to philander.
She tells me ‘they are basically separated, but the hubs is her only source of income’- plus, he CANNOT KNOW I wrote this for her (did I mention it was just days before the Film Festival? MADNESS) and gushes about this director who will be filming it- at the same time, dissing him for lack of as many padded IMDB credits as she has.
Oh, so the ‘actress’ suggests the topic of this screenplay- it is largely a vanity piece. She plays the victim of a cruel husband (which I believed at first) in a loveless marriage- and says the only stipulation she has is that I write a great f*ck scene for her with a sweet, young thang (male)- and it be under 10 pages #shortfilm
She gushes that I am a GREAT writer, she is a super brown noser- but, lemme tell ya, this AIN’T my best writing. It’s what you get in 3 days before Cannes… but I try to deliver, because I have two things I later discover she doesn’t have: #integrity and #workethic
As I write this screenplay, I started out feeling very sad and sympathetic towards her, but as I get to talk to her more, I realize “Damn, this chick is wacky”. The real picture becomes glaringly clear when she tells me that she f*cked her young lover in her marital bed one day and that her hubs discovered a used condom- she then accused the hubs of planting the condom.
I knew her hubs, he is NOT nasty like that. She’s admitted to drug use and to her lover being a junkie. She is smoking cigs, she says, for the first time in her 50 yrs- a pack a day- who DOES THIS?! IDK anyone who suddenly acquires a nicotine addiction at HER age. EVERY story she tells me in the wee hours, typed out in FB msgr, keeps getting weirder and weirder…
I enlist the help of another professional writer to do the love scene. I had a basic idea of how I wanted her to be ‘handled’, but the idea of having this crazy lady nekkid in my mind’s eye after the cray stuff she spewed turned my stomach- the writer did a fantastic job blocking and creating the sex scene-
So, other writer and I happily work on this fluff, gratis, btw- for an IMBD writing credit and because it sounded like a light, fun thing to do- and the phone calls and bizarre msgs from this actress continue to arrive in my inbox.
She sends me photos of some 20-something bikini clad baby mama of her boyfriend’s – she is scattered and won’t work on the writing with me- and all she talks about is her very messed up extracurricular love life.
They also set up the casting call BEFORE WE EVEN FINISHED WRITING THE SCRIPT.
Cannes day arrives and she shows up, after giving up a yachting party, to the filming, per eye witnesses ‘strung out of her mind and wasted’- plus A GOOD 10-15 YRS OLDER than her IG and other pics, due to her recent sudden weight loss. She seriously reminded one of a “Faces of Meth” article- so much so, that I was immediately informed by those doing the shoot- who were also in shock.
Apparently, she didn’t look like that the year prior at Cannes-
I hear from her and the director that they had tentatively cast the roles with working actors- but after arriving in Canne she suddenly decides TO WALK THE STREETS LOOKING TO REPLACE THEM WITH NEW CO STARS, because she didn’t like who the director originally had suggested. WTF?! Everything was based on who she found, drunkenly, sexually attractive- per her disjointed texts to me.
Fast forward to the end, it is shot in a record 7 HOURS, at which point she bombards IG and FB with excerpts from this ‘incredible epic film’… and she spends the rest of the film festival complaining to me on fb messenger, when I’d check in to see if she was still alive- that her husband didn’t give her more than 250 euros for the trip, she had only 60 euros left, and couldn’t afford to eat- but was living off the free champagne and begging male friends (including the co stars ‘discovered’ on the streets) for lodgings.
At this point, things get blurry. The filmmaker (who doesn’t speak French) asks me to translate what the French husband was saying in the opening scene on the telephone- the dude was speaking gibberish, nothing salvageable for the film… he wanted to salvage it by either a voiceover (I felt like doing this would turn out like a bad 1960’s Godzilla dub) or a musical score to ‘set the tone’, since the male ‘actors’ were not actually professional actors at all.
The actress continues with her weirdness once she is back home in Belgium. She sends me msgs from ‘friends’ of hers who are accusing her of stealing their work. She is obviously strung out and not all there. She gets super paranoid. Once she finds out that I was assisting the filmmaker with post-production, she lost her MIND.
She keeps offering “if we don’t like it” to remove us from the writing credits, even though I told her again and again that we want our credits no matter how it turned out. We send the script, as is, to the lawyers for copyright and published the Kindle version immediately. She was not pleased.
She twisted everything with the director, telling him WE WANTED to wrest control of this silly thing from them. She whined and gaslighted and manipulated. She would flatter, then cajole, then threaten me. That type of thing might work with other people, but Mama doesn’t play that.
Emotional terrorism is not cool.
I am currently going through a cancer health scare- and my sister currently has cancer as well.
A family member in CA was in a catastrophic motorcycle accident in December- I had been caring for them all winter in San Diego and am only back home in the midwest for my own health issues.
This writing project was supposed to simply be a nice little distraction, a way to create something positive and fun.
I did it for FREE. I DON’T need the money.
She had the nerve to infer that I was using my health issues as a way to take the spotlight from her and gain sympathy. I was shocked.
When I wrote today, in a group chat, that I forgave her for her transgressions and that an apology would be nice, or even that she should just come out and say what bugged her instead of twisting and turning people against each other, she flipped out.
She FINALLY OUTDID HERSELF TODAY:
S: “What’s your phone number?”
A screaming and slurring drunken French- speaking woman calls, not even the actress. She threatens me. I turn on the speaker phone so that the people in the room with me can hear as well.
CRAZY FRENCH CHICK (I believe her name is Marie- and she spoke in French accented English: “I am REEECH AND ‘AVE MONEEEY AND I WILL COME TO AMEREECA AND BEEEAT YOU UPPP, leave S alone”
Me (calmly and in French): “ Parle en français, madame- il y a un enfant ici et tu parles comme TRAILER TRASH”
(Translation:Speak English, madame, there is a child here and you sound like trailer trash)- I had a three year old in the room and these harpies couldn’t even do more than screech and hang up- it wasn’t even the actress, she used her friend to attack.
I tell the group chat with director and other writer what just transpired, and THEY CALL AGAIN, this time, I am able to video witnesses to this.
I tell the woman in French again to speak in French and they hang up when I do speak her language.
WHAT KIND OF CRAZY DOES THIS SH*T?!
I tell the group again what transpired, the actress leaves the chat in a huff and blocks me.
Later, I discovered that a long time friend of hers also received the same shabby treatment. She had, apparently, a reputation for promising film credits for her little vanity films and would steal the material for herself.
No, what we wanted is fair treatment. You don’t steal from those who are there to help you. Karma is a b*tch. Play nice, especially to your writers. Don’t be a grabby, greedy, thirsty passive-aggressive little c*nt. THIS is why you have no real friends. This is why ugly from the soul is showing on your face.
If people didn’t do as she asked (or implied), she’d play a victim.
If you push back, she attacks.
I feel badly for her husband and kids and the other innocents she’s hurt.
I don’t feel badly for writing this.
Someone has to stand up to this anti-feminist, disempowered, passive-aggressive, drug addled pseudo-bully.
I told her once: “You are the polar opposite of Me”– and I am ok with that.
She must hurt a lot in her skin to hurt others like this.
I say this because I have been blessed with ways of dealing with MY aggressions.
I am a healthier person in my ‘old age’
Also, my non-white self is NOT SCARED OF YOU or your little friends, who can’t be THAT rich if they can’t even lend you money for a hotel in Cannes.
I can’t even imagine a world where I’d have to beg or have sex written into a scene in order to get a man to want to do me. That alone left me gobsmacked.
Btw, here is the actual kindle link to the screenplay- I would not buy it, personally. Not our best work.
A little peek into our day, before trick or treat- it was 35F here in SW Michigan- absolutely freeeeeezing (1-2C for the rest of you).
We rushed to get candy for the manny in the house to dole out while we took the girl into the cold.
I had exactly 35 minutes to decide what to dress up as- and accidentally turned into a Zombie Kardashian- or a Game of Thrones greyscale Kardashian– still not sure which.
Maisie dressed as a brown haired Elsa… she was over the moon. Below is a pic with her brother- who is dressed as a sort of emo Waldo who doesn’t wish to be found- but will still take your candy-
I did, however, successfully stay keto and stayed out of the sweets today- so hurray for me!
**this week has been MONUMENTALLY BAD for us. I am almost ashamed that I’ve ranted so much on this blog, but what the hell… only real place I can do it**
Pet Peeve #101 can be found HERE
I have actually known about this for a few weeks, but didn’t know the SPECIFICS until a few days ago when we spoke to another family member of his.
R is the 2nd child (and youngest) in his family. His only sister had her son (his family’s first grandchild) 2 months before Maisie was born. His family pretty much treats him like a non-entity. They live 3 blocks away from us and never come to see him/Maisie. They bought two houses next door to each other so that they could move his sister and her hubs in next to them while she was pregnant. They’d previously lived DIRECTLY ACROSS THE ALLEY from the 2 houses. His sister is 13 yrs older than he. They (R’s mom/sister/nephew) take walks daily, but never walk by our house nor stop by. We ALWAYS have to come to THEM. I’ve never once asked (nor have I needed) them to babysit my daughter. They help raise little baby Milton because R’s sister is a veterinarian and works- as does her hubby.
They once told me that we could not look baby Milton in the eyes for the first 30 minutes we were there, lest it upset him. R’s father is always told (when he picks up Maisie) by his mother/sister “Put her down, you’re making Milton jealous”. He generally drops her after they say this… except for a month ago during R’s birthday dinner and the father got glares from his wife/daughter as a result of his ‘not obeying’.
Fucking give me a break- this boy is only a year old! This is even unhealthier in other ways than MY dysfunctional family.
Also, there is the racist thing. They’re not happy that I am half-Asian and that Maisie looks Asian. R tried to shrug it off as “Dad was in Vietnam” (give me a fucking break- he never left Stateside)- or “My grandpop was in the Pacific Theater” (OMFG, SO WAS MINE).
Here’s the perfect RACIST example:
We had previous issues with his parents in the past. This is from a post to my Facebook in 2011 when I had a miscarriage and his father INSISTED he drive us to the hospital for the d&c:
What happened when we drove to Kalamazoo for the procedure, or, Am I being too sensitive here?
On Monday when we had to go to Kalamazoo for the D&C, R’s dad offered to drive (which was fortunate because R was hit with another stomach ailment and had a bucket in his lap the entire way).
I was nervous about the procedure and cramping slightly because of the dose of misoprostal/cytotec they had me take the night before.
I sat in the back seat while R sat in the front passenger’s seat, hugging his puke bucket.
Suddenly, R’s dad starts talking, prefacing his speech with “I don’t want to offend you, but… ” then goes on to inform me that I am high risk at my age being pregnant.
I acknowledge this fact and try to keep the tone pleasant… I mean, that’s the whole reason I was going all the way to Kalamazoo to see an obstetrician.
Somehow, his discourse changed to “Asians age overnight- you can go to bed with someone who looks 16 and wake up with something that looks 60”. He also implied something that made me reassure HIM that I wasn’t trying to make ‘retarded babies’.
He went on and on about the Asians and their aging overnight for about 10 minutes, as if to drive the point home for me somehow.
I didn’t let him have it then because I was a) in shock that he’d SAY something like this to me, ESPECIALLY at this time as he was driving us to surgery for the miscarriage and b) I was terrified about the procedure itself and c) it was 4 am and I was so tired.
Anyway, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this over and over since then and am floored at the ill-timed racial slurs (to be honest, he’s mentioned this 4 or 5 times before, but usually when he’s drunk) and insensitivity. I also am really angry about it.
We were supposed to go to R’s parent’s for Xmas Eve and I am not comfortable going at all. Because I know that Ray would never say a peep to his parents about this, I texted his mom tonight and told her I wouldn’t be going and why I wasn’t going. I am depressed enough right now and the thought of that drive there/what that man had the balls to say to me really pisses me off.
I put up with stupid, insensitive things from my parents. I do NOT have to put up with them from HIS parents. I am sick of being treated like some foreigner. His father’s asked me before how long I’d been in this country– hello, I was born in St. Joseph, MI. He’s mentioned the overnight aging thing before. Hell, I think he doesn’t mention the black genetics because I happened to find black ancestors in HIS genealogy (which seemed to shut down his genealogical endeavors immediately, lemme tell ya).
I may be a little sensitive right now, but I don’t think it’s wrong of me to feel uncomfortable considering the circumstances– or angry. I had to type this out because I have been so upset over this (and y’all know, if I am so upset that I keep my mouth shut for 2 or 3 days mulling things over before spewing them here, it must REALLY bother me).
Needless to say, I did not speak to these people for a few years after that. I calmed down a lot after Maisie was born because in my mind it was only the right and fair thing that she know her grandparents on his side. He has NO OTHER relatives here in Michigan except for his folks and sister’s family. The rest live in Philly and he barely knows them.
Anyway, on his nephew’s birthday on the 4th of July, his parents INSISTED and MADE SURE we’d be there for his 1st birthday party. Of course, I had no problems with this- I come from a large family (however effed it it may be at times) and want Maisie to know her only cousin on his side. His mother helped cook for the party, it was all very nice. I took the photos of the children together and thought nothing of it until a few weeks ago when I casually mentioned to R’s mom that we’d be having a small ‘family only’ cake party for Maisie’s 1st birthday on the 10th of September. We planned on having a bigger party on the 19th when R has a day off.
R’s Mother: “We can’t come on the 10th, we fly out to Vegas that morning- we’ll have to do something on the 9th”
I told her (nicely, because I was still kinda gobsmacked- they’ve been to Vegas 3x in the last couple of months for FUN- it’s not like they’re poor and have to save all year for these vacays- this is a COMMON THING) that we were busy on the 9th.
I was so shocked- but kept a cool facade- that I couldn’t even respond to that.
I learned later on (a couple of days ago) that they planned the trip so they could take BABY MILTON back to Vegas (not his first trip) and that it was the only day they could because his daddy had that weekend off… Gimme a BREAK. They KNEW when her birthday was. They were AT THE HOSPITAL WHEN SHE ARRIVED. She is their only other grandkid.
The mother is passive-aggressive as hell. She even likes to talk about how much ‘Milton loves Vegas’, as if it hurts us.
She says things with a pleasant look on her face, like: “I would have had an abortion with R, but his dad likes babies, so I had to keep him” OR (when I was pregnant with the one I miscarried): “Just so you know, I don’t touch or pick up other people’s babies before they’re a year old”.
What HURTS is how they treat R and my baby. No amount of money can replace kind words or even a loving interest that R craves from them.
Early on in our relationship, we were having problems. Being the mother of three sons, I suggested he call him mom and talk it out with her- that’s what I would expect MY kids to do.
He called her and chatted for an hour. He felt so good after… until a few days later, when we saw her face-to-face and she said:
“Oh, you know the day you called and talked and cried on the phone? I put the phone down and did laundry”
R’s father is also a doozy- as long as I’ve known them, he’s told R (as if by ROTE):
“You know son, the reason why we can’t have a close relationship is because ‘a daughter’s a daughter all her life, but a son’s a son til he takes a wife’- and that’s why I am closer to your sister”
This man LITERALLY says this nearly every time he sees R. It’s ridiculous. They do it with these bizarre-ass smiles on their faces, too- never raising voices, nada. Like they’re saying “Oh, the sky is blue” or “Isn’t that a pretty flower?”
So, after SIX LONG YEARS of never seeing R even address this, he finally broke down and cried a bit over it today.
Yeah, they throw money and cars at him… and I always ask WHY he accepts them.
His answer, through his sadness: “Don’t you think I KNOW that’s all I will ever get? I take it because that’s all they ever do for me”.
He accepts these crumbs because he knows he can never possibly win their love. Not with this baby. Not by himself.
I can’t really relate, these are wealthy, spoiled people problems in my book. I just get more pissed off the longer I witness it.
If he tells his dad that he’s done something, the father will say:
“OH, I’VE DONE THAT *FIRST*- YOU ONLY DID IT BECAUSE *YOU ARE MY SON*”
Watching him try to bend over to please them for years has broken my heart and this finally did us all in.
I told him, under NO circumstances, will he be carting her off to them during the holidays or to show her off.
R said, much to my surprise: “You’re right- if they want to see her, they can come over like EVERYONE ELSE DOES”
I have never seen him stand up for himself or Maisie before today- even though he didn’t say it to their faces (they never do that in his family), it was startling and HUGE for him to do this.
MY PARENTS are much older than his, in poor health, and yet they still come 14 miles nearly every day to visit with Maisie.
His are 3 BLOCKS away and won’t even come to her birthday.
In my opinion, because this was so spur of the moment and she didn’t even bother to tell us until asked to Maisie’s birthday- this was a calculated move on their parts, just like everything else.
R, for the first time in his life, tears streaming down his face, agreed.
This was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
My folks and so many other say “Oh, they’re missing out- don’t get worked up over it”, but I needed to write this out- to vent this- to shout this- because IT’S BEEN EATING AT ME ALL FREAKING MONTH.
Tomorrow is her birthday. I wish them a bon voyage to Vegas.
I am NOT GOING TO FEAR stupid fucktards with fetishes. Period.
I cannot control what people do. If I posted photos of feet/toes/q-tips/MY FACE/smoking cigarettes, I can GUARANTEE you that SOMEONE will have a fetish for it.
You cannot live your lives in fear. I am not scared of this- so you anxious people out there, chill… or at least chill when it comes to ME, because I have my own beliefs.