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I should be blogging, but life & bleeding & Bourdain & grads & ballet get in the way…

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I should be blogging about my female issues, part 2, but at the moment my innards are weeping the bloodiest of tears. I’ve slept so much this week since the endometrial biopsy- and it jump started my period early. I had no idea that simple uterine biopsies could take so much out of a person. The pain is better, the fatigue is not.

My hysterectomy is scheduled for 12 July.

My endometrial biopsy (the first) should be back early this week, the oncologist says.

My son graduated from high school last weekend, I still need to add this to the blog. I am so proud of him.

Maisie has her 2nd ballet/tap recital of her life tomorrow. I will be herding cats/taking care of the tots back stage, like I did last year. Someone has to do it and I’m evolving into a stage mother at this point.

The other crazy things happening in the periphery are dying down, for now. I’ve had my say and will continue to work through this, as a reminder to myself and others- don’t let people walk all over you. There are some seriously chronically messed up opportunists out there- and yeah, while addiction can account for a lot, that still is not an excuse for what was done to us.

I think about Bourdain and his fragility- and the fragility of those around us. This world will eat you up and spit you out if you don’t stand up for yourself and for what is right. Tony Bourdain stood up against the tides, championed his girlfriend’s #metoo cause against Weinstein- and it still wasn’t enough.

I saw a chilling post Bourdain put up on his Twitter on 22 May. It called out some guy re being found hung (I’m paraphrasing) in a lavatory from auto-erotic asphyxiation. It kind of gave me chills. While I don’t know the circumstances surrounding his death any more than the rest of us (a bathrobe belt, found tied to a door)- suicide or accident- neither is preferable.

He had his child at 50. That alone would make it impossible for me to take my own life, but I don’t live in anyone’s skin but my own.

It’s sad, sad, sad in this mad world.

Death comes to all of us, sooner or later. I think about my own mortality a lot right now. I’d fight tooth and nail against it, just like I fight tooth and nail against any other injustice levied against others and myself.

But life goes on, children grow up and graduate and do their recitals and play with their toys. We grow older. We die.

Over and over, in different bodies and different lives, it is all the same. We all share this common thread- even though we believe we’re unique.

We’re not unique. That is the beauty of it. The sameness, the threads that bind us- that’s the wonderment.

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Vind wat je zoekt…

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Oké, nu naar beneden scrollt… it’s a few days back.

Useful links:

Part 1- How It All Began w/Writing a Screenplay for Cannes
Part 2- The Gap Sales Lady Lawyer
Part 3- My Child Traumatized By This (w/video)
Part 4- The Tale of Ludwig
Part 5- She Decides to Attack Maisie’s Dad- and he replies to her!

ALSO: Poetry, or ‘Em er some interesting reunions going on

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In Which the Actress Decides to Call Out My Daughter’s Father and He Responds…

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Maisie’s father is very soft-spoken and usually stays out of drama at all costs-

However, the actress took it a little too far on the movie page and decided to call him out.

We sent a video to the director and writer in the group chat of Maisie’s dad explaining what he just heard- after her friend called me to threaten us -back when we kind of ASSUMED we were dealing with other responsible, normal adults still and were trying to nip this baffling thing in the bud.

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This is a wonderful man who loves his daughter and his family. I have very rarely ever seen him get angry… And when he does, it’s always in a calm, rational way.

Here is the letter that he wrote and reply to Sabrina’s allegations that he “traumatized” our daughter –

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“You know what, I was going to stay mostly out of this because I thought the whole thing was asinine, and developmentally stunted: the plot, the movie, the fighting, everything and I wanted nothing to do with it.

When Jess told me she was asked to write a story, and the only guideline she had was to have a sex scene with some random hot younger guy and make the husband an a*shole, I asked why get involved in this kind of juvenile project at the last moment? She said it would be a good distraction from everything going on in our real lives, so I said okay, that’s a good reason.

We all sat around the table for a while talking about more and more outlandish ideas for the plot, some sci-fi, some paranormal, etc. until we settled that it should be realistic, a real story, about ‘real’ people with real problems. So the script was born. I disengaged because the more I learned about everything behind the scenes, the less I wanted to do with it. I have to be honest, I laughed so hard when I found out this was supposed to be written a year ago, and then I found out that the ending was changed to have a reconciliation with the husband.

What is that? It goes against the entire conception, life, and body of the story.  So, I’m confused how this happened.

When concerns were brought up about it, BOTH Sabrina and the director had the same answer, almost like it was copied and pasted from each other.

Basically saying, ‘well we can pull your credits if you want’.

I’m sorry-did anyone mention removing credits before?

No-one wanted their credits pulled and no-one said they wanted their credits pulled, but I saw at least 4 different messages offering to remove the writing credits.

If someone wants their credits removed, they will damn well tell you, what kind of rude person not only says it ONCE, but multiple times?


However, that’s not what pissed me off (or anyone else as far as I know) that was somewhat annoying, but no-one was ANGRY yet, just kept saying no and moving on.   

Sabrina’s friend called and threatened my family, THAT IS when I started to get pissed, and now you had to drag my daughter and me into it fully.

I traumatized my child? I didn’t realize I was screaming at my daughter during this, or ever for that matter.

As a matter of fact, I don’t recall ever screaming in front of my daughter, ever in her life.

Do you know me? Her? It’s strange that your post seems to insinuate that you do, and thoroughly at that.

The insinuation that I could ‘traumatize’ my daughter by yelling during this exchange is insulting.

She knows that her mom and dad would never do anything to hurt her, now strangers on the other hand are a totally different story.  

Who in their right mind thinks that yelling at a mother in front of her child is a smart thing to do, who does that?

When they are even offered an avenue to vent their frustrations in a manner that would not affect the child the coward decided to hang up instead.

Guess they just couldn’t handle an actual conversation or maybe she wanted to stay in English so that you could understand and record it, even though you “weren’t there”.  

Now, if you are trying to say that my child was traumatized because I was talking calmly but swearing in front of her then I want to know how YOU must raise YOUR kids.

Are they used to people calling YOUR HOUSE and threatening you, do you live in an environment where this is acceptable? Are YOUR kids USED TO these types of things, because, damn lady, that is unacceptable parenting on your part if this is true.

Granted, my daughter is a smart and mature little girl that knows what words are grownup words, but she has never in her life heard some stranger on the phone scream at one of us, and definitely never heard grown adults talk about flying to another country to beat one of us.

The notion that I somehow traumatized her a second time by talking to someone else on the phone is infuriating, and insulting.  


I have never heard someone try to apologize in this manner, but let me tell you it most definitely did not work.  

Here is a little lesson for you: when you are trying to say you are sorry for something you or someone else did, it’s a good idea not to start the apology off by seeing how pissed off you can make the person or people you are apologizing to.

If you have anymore problems, have your husband contact me directly. I hear from Jeff and my in-laws that Pete is a decent, normal guy. I pity him.”

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In Which I write a screenplay for the Cannes Film Festival and get shockingly attacked in the process… theft and dishonesty in “the movie biz”

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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?”

Me: “xxx-xxx-xxxx”

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.

END SCENE.

(Thank goodness)

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.

End rant.

Btw, here is the actual kindle link to the screenplay- I would not buy it, personally. Not our best work.