Well, I finished up being dead. As it happened, I was dead for a total of three days...draw your own conclusions.
The last day of the dead was out in Brooklyn, in the old Williamsburg Bank Building, which is absolutely gorgeous. All columns and marble floors and this incredible ceiling with blue and gold signs of the Zodiac.
I must say that the scriptwriter on this has what I sincerely hope is a damned odd take on the afterlife. First of all, I really hope I'm not being transported there via PATH train under New Jersey. Hell, we didn't even get to see the light at the end of the tunnel...although in this case, it most certainly WOULD have been an oncoming train. And while Croton Park Point was lovely, there were all those bees...being stung by a bee never figured heavily in my notion of the afterlife either. And now (if things go according to this script) it turns out that in order to get to the actual afterlife, you have to fill in forms and stand in line. Doesn't that seem awfully bureaucratic? And what if your forms aren't right? Do you have to be alive again? Personally, I've always pictured Heaven (well, all right...I know I'm presuming here) as a gorgeous very English library, with a roaring fire and big comfortable leather chairs, and bookshelves that are constantly refilled with brand new books by my favorite (dead) authors. Oh, yeah...and a small kitchen area with a beer filled refrigerator and all my favorite snacks. Doesn't that sound cozy?
Meanwhile, life has been dull. Nobody else seems to want me to be in a movie, so I'm going to give Nancy, who is my overworked friend at that nutty law firm, a few days off...Thursday and Friday of next week and the whole following week. This may be that bourne from which no traveller returns...I'm deeply afraid that seven days of Andrew the lawyer may kill me, because while he's an awfully nice guy, he is the world's most maddening person to work for. However, it is money coming in, which is always useful.
And just to show you what me and Sarah get up to (we tend to text each other when we get bored), here's a verbatim exchange straight from my telephone. S is Sarah and W is Wendy...just so you know.
W: I got a hat.
S: I...What?
W: I got a hat. I told you I wanted one.
S: Oh. Yeah. But it just seemed totally random. You could have said "I got the hat I was looking for." What came out was closer to "wanna ride bikes?"*
W: Wait until you see it. I didn't think the purple veil was going to work with the pink roses, but the rhinestone clip really beings it together.
S: I'm going to barf on your head.
W: Black felt fedora. Found it at H&M. Perfect.
S: I'll buy it when I see it.
As you can tell, we have a good deal of fun together. And the asterisk on the "Wanna ride bikes?" That refers to a silly joke Sarah told me years ago which has sort of become a catch phrase with us. How many people with ADD does it take to change a light bulb? And the answer is, Wanna ride bikes?
I will now go and do nothing in particular for a while, then I will go smoke my final cigarette of the day, and then I will climb into bed so the cats can gnaw my toes. A full, rich life...
Love, Wendy
Friday, September 30, 2011
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2 comments:
Insightful (well, okay, how do we know insightful? imaginative and possibly perceptive) AND funny! What if all those things really were involved in being dead? When you -- not SAG-dead -- are dead, do you still get paid for being dead? And if you do, what do you spend the money on, being dead and all?
My favorite idea is Heaven being a library full of books by dead (of course dead!)authors. But what about the heathens in Darkest Africa who don't know how to read, or where the libraries are, hence cannot find their way to England and Rudyard Kipling (already dead), and thus most likely cannot go to Heaven? I sense the need for some sort of bureaucratic organization here. Is that how you want to spend the afterlife? Supervising a bureaucracy -- which is SUCH a hard word to kebyraord -- when you could be texting bicycles to your daughter, or perhaps checking out H&M's new fashionthrift choices?
Think about it. That's all I'm saying.
Great to hear from you... love ADD joke!
Texas Beth
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