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"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
Hail Hail from just east of Hell- North of next to nowhere and deep within the confines of all the shit I have to do in the next few weeks!
I have to be this ever decreasing in size-wize ass whose done with her book by yesterday- pictures and rewrites abound.
Boohoo poor moi in Toronto doing my show and keeping apace with my sprint of a schedule (pronounced the British way!) Smoking my e-cigarettes in the Canadian sunshine as I put pen to paper to thank all of you for noticing my Emmy nomination nod.
I’ve asked my daughter to call me “nommy” until the ceremonies. I don’t think she minds whether I win or not the fact that I’m being considered for anything in the same category as Lady GaGa is win enough for her.
I would like to close with a poem I wrote at 19- the age (my daughter) Billie turned the day before yesterday-
“Though life is far from a bed of roses
Thru which one lethargically loiters
It nevertheless is more savory
Than a bed comprised of goiters….”
And remember what I always like to say when I remember to say something “there’s no room for demons when you’re self possessed.”
Thank you again for all your web support (webort) Happy Birthday to Billie!
And more later from the ever decreasing Carnack Von Fishstein- (whose tits are officially almost ONE FOOT smaller since Thanksgiving) A foot of female flesh- where did it go? Thanks JC. If you find it- send it to P.O. Box- what the fuck deep in the heart of former hippos.
Debbie Reynolds in "Tammy"
Own a piece of history!!!
If you don’t go u will regret it all my mothers life…..now if you can live with a burden like that after everything she’s done for you & your parents & grandparents…….
Well, I have no clue how you learn how to deal with your guilt & her pain—–both arthritic & the searing flashes of rickets that arrived exactly at the same time that she faced her dream of her museum was lost forever.
Come see the clothes, hang with the posters, warm my mothers heart. Wear Chaplins hat, buy Harpo’s & blow me in the nicest possible way.
My favorite word is “ball-sack.” I like it so much,
and not because they’re pretty or smooth to the touch,
though maybe you can find some that actually are.
My guess is that most look sad and bizarre-
There is also a dude who writes famous shit,
he’s got a great white way with words,
not some dope illiterate
His stuff gets an “A” on the test of time,
homey’s the real deal, line for line!
His shit’s unadulterated & incroyable.
Like that scribe that scribbled “Les Miserable”
Honore de Balzac that’s this dog’s name,
& that bad-ass tag’s not his only claim to fame.
But- it’s the literate shit that keeps me alert-
like a bee or not to bee sting or pubic hair shirt…
ball-sacks are so funny while they slap against your thigh,
It’s the main reason for being a guy!
They swing to the left, they swing to the right,
while the dick makes merry, the scrotum hangs tight!
Balls wait like a tiny entourage- they’re the cock’s guest house, or Sad Jim’s garage!
Those big man jigglies, the dick’s unsalted nuts,
slappin’ gainst thighs, bumpin on butts!
You can stay up top with spooge shining in your hair,
While balls hang out all loyal- them baby’s don’t care-
If you gotta ball sack, you gotta treat it right.
Your dick can go limp, your anus shut tight.
If I had a ball sack,- that would be the real shit-
better one sad sack, than two saggy ass tits!
So grab your testes & repeat after me,
“Look what I found when I pulled off my jeans!”
You can flick ‘em,
get friends to lick ‘em,
cup ‘em in your palm for all to see-
leave your jockstraps home!
free ballin’s the way to be!
When I was just a young kid like 8 or 9,
this kid in my school asked me one time-
“Do the balls go in or just wait outside?”
Fuck if I knew— my sex egg was unfried.
Honore de Balzac Oh mon dieu!
He’s got the back of you cock, monsieur!
ps. this is my rap song for the day of rapture-
pss. Happy post Rapture
Or as Proust might say, (now that Rapture’s past)
Care for your Protuberances, so the thing will last!
I wasn’t kidding.
Jenny Craig is the grooviest diet-
(grooviest = effective)
on the whatever -market (but not food market) today.
But don’t take my word for it- its been announced on people’s T.V sets & rolled out in print all over this great nation of ours.
Go figure- but a good figure ( a lot better any weigh)
@carrieffisher @JennyCraig @peoplemag
Guess who lost some more pounds!… Go on- guess I’ll weight here. Okay sorry about the verbal slap shtick. Normally I’m not so verbally clumsy- its only because I’m thinner and everyone knows- the thinner you are- the more diminished your vocabulary, the looser your clothes!! The good news is no one gives a shiz about how well you say what you say, they’re so just trying to figure out if they can believe their eyes- could this possibly be the chick that only just last month looked like a Beverly Hills Bungalow but now-can it be??! Looks like one day- maybe not too far in the distant future- she could look less like a bungalow and more like- dare I say it??? A clothes pin?!
You may not believe this but those folks at Jenny Craig took more than one whole inch off my shall we say breasts? Or funbags? You pick. Either way, my chest- there’s less treasure in it!?! Not that I consider what I carry around between my arms treasureable. I would do- maybe not anything- but a hellava lot to make less of the more- I can barely find a bra big enough to harness that what fiendish horror that lurks beneath my chin. With the Craig meister- one day soon I might be able to fall on my face! No- not the fat face that I’m hiding behind now- No! The face I’m going to have someday soon- the one with two cheekbones and one chin, (no weighting) I have this friend staying with me- she’s here from England- last night we had dinner together & she had the J.C. meatloaf & still doesn’t believe that it wasn’t jammed packed with calories. I swear. We should’ve filmed it. Instead of filming people that know they’re promoting something you film them inadvertently being amazed at how fatteningly good something unfattening can taste. How about that as a billboard?
“You’ll be amazed at how fatteningly good something this nonfattening can taste!” Jenny Craig!
It turns your empty mouth into a discothèque (or however you spell it). How about… Jenny Craig- two cheekbones, one chin- no weighting.
Two hundred calories walk into a mouth- the first hundred say to the second hundred- “last ones to the thighs- wins in the Jenny Craig campaign to loosing weight”- okay, they can’t all be gems. In fact, very few could be gems. Think of episodes like that as a low diet of wit- in this case, less is not more- less is less- less up to a point.
Kathy came over on Monday & I stood on the sale & she stood next to me & the little dark numbers flashed beneath our eyes. Both of us screamed & clutched each other jumping up & down like teenagers. I had lost 25pounds! Let the ticker tape parade prepare to begin.( Just make sure that the tape is a measuring tape that firsts measures my gradually diminishing headlights- which are anything but light) A thin body waits somewhere for me in the future- lithe & long-ish One day that low fat lady will be me.
There will be less of me to love- people (judgmental people) will look at me & think “what’s not to like?!”
Okay, I just left the FREEZING planet of Chicago & am headed to San Diego with my co-Oprah interviewee Debbie Reynolds & our respective & respectable minders, Garret(me) & Jenny (mom)
You’d think being as over weight as I am would’ve protected me more from below zero weather, but sadly that turned out to be untrue. You’d also think having this much flesh would be good for something, but noooooo.
It’s bad for everything- health, appearance, fitting into stylish clothes- I’m sure if I gave it more thought I could give you bout 70 thousand more reasons for me to be on Jenny Craig-my very own J.C savior in my fight against FAT. When I last looked I’d lost up to 17lbs, which is great, but I still have a WEIGHS to go!
WE filmed the Oprah show the other day- which I’ve never done & I SANG with my mom- which I’ve never done either! Tragically though, singing in public is not aerobic. So- low cal is what I also talked about on Oprah- how I’m doing on my Jenny Journey.
And the news is- I’m doing pretty good! I haven’t been able to weigh myself- (facing the dreaded numbers on the scale) because the scale in my hotel room was broken- either that, or I broke it- & it’ll be fine for the next, slimmer hotel guest.
But I kept hunger at bay by eating my favorite food- the popcorn & cookies- where would I be without Jenny Craig?!! Also, the frosted Oh’s make for a great breakfast, that with some fresh papaya. Even though they have a great variety of delicious Jenny food, I’m kind of a creature of habit (formerly a creature of BAD habit) I’m still in to the tuna & chicken salads for lunch and I also love having fruit and vegetables as a snack -Check out the “Free Foods” list. Especially the papaya!
I love that s&%t!!!
I also love broccoli- which is one of the many vegetables I use to volumize my meals (that’s what they call it right?? Volumizing??)
Even though the meals aren’t huge, I still feel like I’m eating more than enough. Portion control!!!
Go to your fat battle stations!!! Fattle Stations!
I’ve also been really consistent with maintaining regular exercise. I pretty much use the elliptical every day- except for one free floating lazy day- I like to read while I exercise on the elliptical – cause you still get an aerobic work out without bouncing around jogging style. So I stay on the machine anywhere from 45minutes to 52 ( I have a thing about numbers-everything has to add up to 3,7 or 9- don’t ask.(oh yeah, you didn’t)
I’m gonna look into yoga & Pilates when I get home. Not to do both- I know I like Pilates- you get to lay down a lot!! I’ve avoided yoga cause I thought it was too new agey (age-y) ohmmmmm- Hare Krishna like- but now I figure what the hell. So many people are getting great results from it. Who knows? Maybe it’ll have a calming effect too- I’ve always doubted it- being manic at least half the time. Whatever, I’ll let you know how it goes.
When I get back I’m having dinner with my pal Penny. She’s on Jenny too- because of me!! We could have an online Jenny supper club, everyone having their favorite meal & trading tips on trimming. Alright, I feel like a real dork now- not a total dork- just a real one. But at least I’m a thinning real dork.
I hadn’t realized just how many (thousands of) pounds I’d actually packed on, so 17 pounds- while a miraculous amount- is still not even half way to my ultimate goal, but close. And I don’t really feel like I’m struggling at all. And if I do I can always call or text Kathy, my Jenny Craig consultant & she’ll cheer me on. It’s difficult to do this alone- Jenny Craig is great because it offers the assistance to those that join. I don’t wanna call it dieting because really what I’m doing is changing how I eat. So, when I make this change, she’s my source of support. Like when I saw my giant fat face on the Oprah show…. So I called Kathy after the show and she talked me down from my freaking out about looking that fat in front of millions of humans while sitting near pictures of me in a metal bikini! Could anything be more discouraging?!! But now I’m more determined than ever. So I’m hoping to have my metal bikini body back by summer.
MBBBS or MB4s!
Not that I’ll wear the asinine thing. I’ll just be able to. It’ll be an option, instead of completely out of the question! I’m not sure if my daughter would ever speak to me again- she has what was my great body, by the way. I think she snuck xtra sugar into my food so I would be this middle-aged frump & she could be slave Leia without the slaving.
How humiliating is it that I’ve used all these Star Wars references. Oh well. I figure (fat figure) some of you like it & the rest of you can just judge me. But hey- judge me all you want- just join me & have a very Jenny Just Say No way to over weight day!
You know what would be great? I lose so many things from being absent minded- glasses, keys, cell phones, credit cards- why can’t I lose weight the same way?!!?
Oh my God- look at me!
Where’s that 30 pounds I’m always lugging around??? I must’ve misplaced it somehow! What could I possibly have done with it- where could it conceivably have gone!??! Would you do me a favor? PLEASE!!?!!
For God’s sake I’m begging you DON”T help me find it, okay? Give me a chance- I know I can learn to live with out it!
If only it were possible to lose weight by being absent minded instead of actually having to use discipline and self-control. If bad memory was all it took to lose weight I’d be the thinnest creature on three continents, but nooooooo- it takes commitment & a good battle plan. And along with a good battle plan you need a reliable co general and for that I use General Jenny Craig.
I know, I know- I sound like a geek- but the good news is I’m starting to look less & less like one. Well… less & less fat anyway. I’ve lost close to 4lbs since we last spoke/wrote/yodeled-which brings my total loss so far to close to 12 pounds. Which is almost 2 pounds more than George Arlene Lucas asked me to lose to fit into a quasi virginal flowing white dress a lifetime ago in a galaxy far, far away. He did have a point though. I weighed a whopping 105 pounds at the time.
My consultant Kathy tells me that I’ve had what is referred to as my “magic moment” but I don’t think that I’m necessarily “a magic moment” type- I’m more along the lines of a break through gal- I mean, when it comes to my otherwise enemy SCALE! What I’ve ultimately decided is that by knowing my weight gives me the power and/or awareness to actually do something about it. As opposed to dreading the whole thing & wishing I had a side arm handy. So, instead of having to have Kathy turn on the scale & leading me to step up on it with my eyes squeezed shut like a chubby coward, I can now proudly (practically) step right up to my dream scale & do my version of hopping on. (not that I’m much of a hopper- Dennis or otherwise)
The thing that (my consultant) Kathy actually shared with me though is that the number on the scale doesn’t make me good or bad- its just data that we can use to evaluate what and how we’re doing so we can make adjustments accordingly to ultimately get the results that we desire… See?!!
Now you’re picking up what I’m putting down, no?
Here’s the other thing- I’ve also been wearing my Metabolic Max Armband (M2A)- & I have to say that I really don’t mind it at all!
I mean, as armbands go- well… I wouldn’t even begin to know how to finish that sentence in a way that could inspire you.
But I can tell you one thing- a lot of my friends have noticed I’ve lost weight. Seriously I mean, unless they’re lying as per usual-which I don’t think is true because even I have noticed the difference. And I am (officially) my own worst enemy. The thing I’ve found that’s different with this program is that its not so much a diet as a life style change- the difference being one is finite & the other is an on going change of habit.
So the other day I’m finishing dinner & I have to say I’m extremely pleased with myself as far as the portion of food I ate goes. That was when I laid my eyes what for me had always been the bane of my_____ or one of the many high caloric banes anyway- I saw the most scrumptious chocolate soufflés imaginable heading my way. To express to you just how much this particular desert means to me- one of the first things I learned to cook when I took cooking lessons was- yup- that’s it- chocolate soufflé! And as if that wasn’t enough- I moved onto cheese soufflé- & then, the oh so complicated pumpkin soufflé- where ingredients have their very own receipts & ingredients. Now if that doesn’t demonstrate/ illustrate my commitment to this food group- I don’t know what does.
This chocolate soufflé & I had a kind of visual stand off for a moment or two- but I’m proud to report that I was the one who won out in the end. This stand off included me having one memorable bite & then savoring it for the remainder of the evening. Because see ultimately its not about deprivation- it’s about a kind of balance. I mean the things that Jenny Craig actually gives you some really amazingly great tasting desserts to eat on their program. Including the toffee cookies- which are my absolute favorite & their chocolate walnut brownies which- well, there are no words- & not only that- there are even fewer calories!
So all that having been said- here I am over 15 pounds lighter & I swear it was just a month ago when I thought losing 10 pounds would be an absolute miracle- well, as it turns out, miracles happen. So then if 10 pounds is a miracle- what do I think 30 pounds will be?!! Well… lets wait & see. There are 2 kinds of weight- one that leads to the other & the other that will (hopefully) continue to pour off me.
Yet, another example of less being more & more being the most weight you could imagine losing without ending up looking like a clothes-pin.
Here we are again- coming to you from lifestyles of the occasionally rich & oh so tragically flab-ulous.
I feel like I’m being followed by flesh- encased in the flub of my fore fathers (or mothers)
Many of you have seen me cinematically wield some serious firepower over the course of my of so colorful so called. I mean, whether it was a laser gun in space, or in a tunnel with a shotgun trying to take out two brothers “On a mission from God”, or a little more recently taking pot shots in a kitchen on Sorority Row. Regardless, you know I’m more than capable with a firearm, and I have to say that despite this apparent display of courage &/or fearlessness off screen in my home, doctors office or spa- scales terrified me.
I avoid them as much as possible- as if they were radioactive
Because scales held within them the secret to my deepest shame- they alone knew were capable of knowing the high number, which my weight had ascended to. But with JC’s assistance today I managed to step on the scale- initially, of course with my eyes closed.
Then- taking a deep breath I gradually opened my eyes & faced the mountainous music but the news was better than I’d dare to hope! I was 3.2 lbs down!*
Kathy, my consultant, was as proud as a supportive consultant could be. I got off that scale and I walked out of that room feeling… even more than potentially thin.
Some of my other favorite foods I’ve found on Jenny’s Menu are her Cheese Curls and the Toffee Cookies. You’ve got to try those. And how amazing is that? I get to eat dessert! I was starting to believe that the word “dessert itself” was inherently evil. It’s not. These treats are as much a part of my program as anything else. So- I’ve started using Jenny Craig’s Personalized Menu each week to get all my favorites and I’m also using their new Bodymedia Fit Armband so I can actually track my total activity throughout the day. How trippy is that It totally takes the guesswork out of my planning or whatever and helps me set my goals so I can burn more calories.
Though sometimes I do feel a little like Martha Stewart. It tracks me & my flab & with Martha- well- you get the (tragic) picture.
So anyway I’m going to this party tonight and Kathy wanted me to visualize what outfit I’d be wearing- when I finally reach my party attending goal weight. & I told her that I cant “weight” to get back into one of my little black dresses with a nice heel! I’m also really looking forward to shopping for clothes again without being so f-ing concerned about how fat I look. I’m going to hit all the stores on Madison Ave & it’s going to be AMAZING!
Speaking of New York, I’m there this week on business so; I’ve already been able to plan ahead & have my Jenny food sent to my hotel.
Hell, I figure if I can make it here with Jenny Craig, I can make it anywhere.
Later, stocked refrigerator!
I Googled myself recently (without a lubricant) and I came across a posting that someone made about me, and it said:
“Whatever happened to Carrie Fisher? She used to be so hot. Now she looks like Elton John”
You know, you can age gracefully. It is possible(not easy maybe- but possible), but its incredibly difficult to age gracefully if you’re fat. Fat just isn’t a graceful state. So I guess that’s what I’m trying to do here with Jenny Craig, I’m trying to get into a state of grace.
It’s like beauty’s only skin deep, but you don’t want your skin to be SO deep that people will feel disinclined to dig down to the bottom of your skin to where your weightless inner beauty lies.. Seriously, what does someone first see? They don’t see your personality. Well- depending on how you feel, a bad mood can show up from miles away. The funny thing is, I actually try to get them to overlook my looks: “Don’t look at me, – listen! PLEASE don’t look, just listen.”
See, I wasn’t lucky enough to have been born anorexic or bulimic. That would have been so great… But tragically I’m a failed anorexic.
No, obviously not, but the truth is I don’t want to be someone who looks like they should call Jenny anymore. I want to look like I called her, like a month ago. Better still- MANY months ago hell, I want Val Bertinelli’s ass. I mean I want mine to look like hers. Not literally you know – That’d be a whole new chapter in my already complicated life.
Anyway finally I did call Jenny Craig and today I’m happy to share with you that I survived my first entire week. It actually wasn’t so bad. I mean – the food is amazing- particularly, considering its not fattening. Who the hell would’ve thought that you could eat and not feel bad about it? – Certainly not me.
So it’s my one week check up with my consultant and I was really nervous to weigh in because for whatever the reason – I didn’t feel any thinner. You know, because I wasn’t depriving myself and starving. It’s like I’ve said before – I’m not into the whole masochism thing, or at least not in this case. What I’m trying to say is – I felt full and that has never meant losing weight for me. So I stepped on the scale as usual with my eyes closed with eyes closed and then my beloved consultant Kathy, God love her, gave me the balls- chutzpah- whatever you want to call it to look down…
It was actually a lot less dramatic that I feared it would be. Plus, it was also pretty good news: I’m 4.8 lbs down!!!*
I can’t even explain to all of you how good that moment felt. It was like a giant weight was taken off of me maybe not GIANT- but at least a 5 pound weight.( or thereabouts). So I had a pretty successful first week and you want to know what made it truly amazing for me? Not only did I lose the weight, I actually did it over the holiday weekend!* That my friend, is the miracle of all miracles. There’s walking on water- & then there’s loosing weight over the holidays.
Honestly, I can’t wait to Google myself again in a few months and see if people think I look like a thinner rock star yet obviously not Lady Gaga but maybe- oh, I don’t know- how about Bruce Springsteen. I mean, God forbid I look like a female rock star- that might take as much as 5 or 6 months!
Have a great week.
So let’s just get this out of the way – Fine yes-, you’ve seen me in space with what we used to call my hairy earphones or my hair don’t. (I could’ve called my hair style “Mr. Grodin” but chose not to) people still picture me in that white dress, standing next to that cute little robot, wondering around in that iconic film.
I wish I still had the body I had when I was attached to that giant slug wearing that metal bikini. The thing about that bikini is that it was made out of plastic- or some other hard substance totally unlike cloth- so it stood away from my body when I was laying down- you know… instead of adhering to it like cloth does.
So when we shot the scene where I was laying down in front of Jabba and Bobba Fett was standing over his slug non shoulder- the Fett-ster would look down the swoop of my abdomen & see all the way to Florida. And no one would know that that’s where he was looking cause he had that fucking metal mask on. Maybe even that weird pink eyed gent got a good look too. Or maybe- just maybe- no one cared.
Just me- all these years later & all these pounds later caring as only Carrie can.
You know, I swear when I was shooting those films I never realized I was signing an invisible contract to stay looking the exact same way for the rest of my existence… Must have been in the small print. So anyway, this is where my friends, at Jenny Craig come into the picture. The truth is I’ve been unhappy with my weight for a long time now, & so when the world takes a snapshot of you like that and you get locked forever into it, it doesn’t make it any easier.
See, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten more and more comfortable in my own skin. I just wish now that there wasn’t so much of it. Cause these days when I have conversations I feel like I have to bring up how I look saying “Yes, I’m fat,” and “Yes, I know I’m fat,” so now we both know, and we can get on with things. I think anybody who is overweight has to deal with this constantly in their interactions, perhaps hopefully not always audibly, but definitely in their minds.
The thing is that now people are seeing me as this fat woman. This is the big headline, literally. Not the only headline- but the main one they’re seeing me as someone who’s overweight. Not as someone who’s written books or who did this show and got through(partly cause I do) all these crazy obstacles I’ve gotten thru. “Yeah, sure, she’s funny,” but, I mean, come on- A fat girl has to be funny, doesn’t she?
You know, you can’t judge a book by its cover, but unfortunately most people do and- I’ve been less than thrilled the last few years with my ever expanding cover too. That said, I’m ready now to take on the challenge of losing the extra pounds I’ve gained for both my health and my well-being- for super fiscal reasons & serious ones.
So here I am, looking in the mirror at my tits, which mind you were once somewhat covered by the metal bikini, yet now are going on the size of a couple of planets. Seriously, they had to extend the alphabet to establish my bra size. Obviously, it was more than evident that I needed to lose weight – though I wasn’t exactly sure what I even weighed. I didn’t want to know.
When I go to the doctor’s office, if I can’t talk them into not weighing me, I ask if I can face away, that way I’ve managed to not be confronted with how much weight I’ve gained. I obviously had a rough idea, but when I stepped on the scale and looked .
Ok, so the bottom line of this whole thing was actually even more than I was afraid it was me squared. More is I need help. And overtime I’ve tried all the diets and none have worked for me. Diet has the word “die” in it, and most of them are so strict you feel deprived all the time. And see, I’m not that into self-deprivation. In fact you might say having read about me overtime in some of those fun tabloids, that my life has been an exercise in experiencing pretty much everything under the sun…
So I figured that I needed more than just a diet, I needed to change the way I interacted with food as a whole. Which is something that I’d need some real support doing.
I need a consultant- but please God don’t give me a thin consultant, because that would just be like rubbing my nose in it but obviously not a fat one either because that would be silly, so I’m thinking maybe a semi-thin consultant.
That said, here I am. I’m more resolved than I’ve ever been before to get started and I hope you’ll join me on this new fabulous freedom from fat journey I’ve started with Jenny Craig.
Lastly, No- I’m not making any promises to get into a bikini metal or otherwise. Been there. Done that. I’d just like to look, feel and genuinely be healthier –No big deal, right? For my daughter Billie and the rest of my family, for my friends, and yes, for me.
So wish me some low calorie luck, or fat free force or whatever you wish someone call it.
Somewhere on this God foreskinned or saken planet where laws & what other people think doesn’t matt..- oh wait, that’s not just Canberra- Canberra’s just the place where the politician’s & porn stars of Australia come to die and/or diet.
The thing they seem to like about me is that I- as they so quaintly like to put it- I take the mickey out of myself- And I don’t even seem to have to do it surgically either. Taking the mickey means- as most of you know (but don’t care)- I don’t take myself seriously- I make fun of my fuck ups, etc etc etc. I then pointed out that I not only take the Mickey out of myself- I take the Minnie, the Pluto, the Donald Duck- in fact, any Disney character that has somehow or other had questionable judgment to lose themselves in that vast wilderness otherwise known as my internal organs- I yank them right out of there without a second thought. (I was once on second thought- I mainlined the stuff- but that’s all behind me now- joining the parade of shit that treads behind me- never mind)
Lastly, there are no less than FOUR companies selling pre-need funerals- meaning of course, that you can- and SHOULD- buy your funeral now so you don’t burden your family later on- you know- when you’re a corpse- everything will be around!! And you & your golliwogs & kangaroo scrotum’s will be buried behind the Hyatt historic landmark with all the porn stars & politicians who have also been organized & thoughtful enough to pay for their 6,000 dollar funeral in advance. No worries, mate! She’ll be right!
Some people like to take the mickey, but me? Rebel that I am, I like to give it- I pass out mickeys these days- where as in the old days I used to just pass out.
Okay you guys- here’s what I told whoever the hell it was down here down under regarding cocaine & the ice planet Hoth.
While filming Empire, four thousand seventy eight years ago, one of my co-stars-(by co-stars I don’t mean Harrison or Mark, but someone slightly lower on the costar pole)- approached me saying “you know the girl that’s your stand in, Liz Coke? Well, she’s not called Liz Coke for nothing!
Seeing as how we were on a planet resembling the substance on offer, this information struck a truant chord with me. So I admit it- yes- I availed myself of Liz’s stash. I did not make a habit of this- & it’s not something I recommend or am proud of. It was available, I was incorrigible & an aspect of it might have been somehow inevitable.
So, a long time ago, in a nostril far far away, I ventured outside the perimeters of the appropriate by inhaling a substance that would render me less than professional by abusing the privilege of playing the powerful space princess that I had been given.
The gag is that I truly loathed cocaine- not that that stopped me from using it when nothing else was available to alter me- & certainly don’t recommend or take pride in its use.
In closing, I suggest you stay away from ingesting this anxious making powder & if you run into Mister Lucas, Please tell him how sorry I am that this ever happened, that I’ve admitted to its occurring & I promise not to do it again should he decide to do another sequel starring a geriatric Mr & Mrs. Han Solo, on the shopping planet- having pedicures & trying on nightgowns from deep space.
Yeah, but see, here’s the thing………….I mean, besides a resounding, “May the 4th be with you, to all you people with a lisp out there………..the thing is……….one of several……….is….even though my performance——my incredibly layered performance——–of “Carrie Fisher” in the show, “Wishful Drinking” was overlooked by the Tony Commission of the United States of Live Action Theater in Manhattan……..I find myself almost effortlessly able to maintain a brave front (on top of my redonkulously large 34 LL boozum)……..
Of course, yes, I spent years——-if not DECADES———working on what I like to think of as my delicately layered portrait of CARRIE FISHER——–that tragic, dual celebrity offspring/issue——-who went from intergalactic off center fold to drug addicted cinematic side kick to bi polar one time bride of bite sized brilliant song writer to not so semi autobiographical novel scribbling mother of that beautiful child, fathered by that oops did I forget to mention I was bisexual and ever increasingly influential agent to everyone who is anyone in the Industry, to scream writing script doctor friend of that guy who turned out to be dead when I woke up next to him the morning after my ex’s star studded Oscar party……. to that nut house hopping, weight gaining bon mot mumbling one woman show running round the US, eventually winding up on that great white way for in excess of four months, a performance for which I was NOT nominated for the Antoinette Perry “Tony” Award today———-of all days——-May the forth——–which, for many lisping intergalactic devotees will always or never be remembered as the May the Forth—–yes………may the forth be with you—— and you and you and…………even you…….way out over there………that’s right…….YOU………
Couldn’t they see what a stretch it was for me to play, “Carrie Fisher”? Every nite and two times on Wednesday and Saturday, I had to get out of my way——–all the way out and then slowly, slowly, cell by cell by syringe by syllable…….ever so surreptitiously and unsympathetically into…….whatever that was……… character?………a process so……..so…………well, as you can no doubt intuit…….among other things ……a process……requiring—– well………not only concentration, but …….something a little like………..COURAGE! I mean, how many people can portray a……….a version of themselves without seeming to be other than who you were when your sense of identity was more intact…….You MIGHT say that on some level you were doing something that you were unaware you were engaged in conveying……….Oh sure……..you might say………how hard could that be? Pretending to NOT be pretending to be yourself? Ha! You might say——–where is the artistry in acting natural? Come on! Isn’t everyone essentially acting like themselves everyday? (But without an intermission) Who do I think I am when I’m pretending to be real? If I’m apparently ‘down to earth’, where am I coming down to earth FROM? What would it mean, to award someone for acting like themselves? Wouldn’t we then have to award everyone for their daily portrayal of themselves in the role of, “ME”…………”THEM”…………”I”?
It was a stretch……….I admit………..sometimes I didn’t identify with the character of “Carrie Fisher”…………who is she? Is she who she was? Who she seems? What am I pretending not to know when I’m ‘acting naturally’? Isn’t that an oxymoron? Aren’t I? Am I who I say I am? Or am I someone else pretending to be me? Each night I presented myself AS myself. Someone you could relate to, if that’s something you were interested in doing, on top of relating to yourself and to others, whoever we all might be.
SO………..ANYWAY, and aside from any and all of that…………..
I suppose the message here is that I wasn’t really convincing as, “Carrie Fisher”. I wasn’t believable as myself. This only confirms what I used to feel when I was on hallucinogens. Back when I could actually spell that word, as well. Next time I won’t take on a roll that I have so little in common with. There’s a big difference between being brave and being over ambitious. The problem is, a lot of times, I don’t really know what the difference is…….
If anyone has any advice on how I might’ve made the role more believable, I would really appreciate it. You know……..some insight on how best to make a character like Miss Fisher more……….relatable……….accessible………….REAL.
Until then……….may the fifth…….forth………..whatever the fuck……..be with whoever you’re hoping everyone believes you to be…………
Actually, this one time a friend of mine, Mike G, took me to a Grateful Dead concert in Manhattan. This is, like, three or four million years ago. Anyway…….we go to this concert, (on mushrooms, of course. Normally we took acid, hallucinogenic wise, but for whatever reason this nite we opted for the mushroom route)…….ANYWAY, Mike takes me backstage, cause he is not only friends with Jerry Garcia, he gets our LSD from Owlsley——-whose like the LSD guru and apparently in Jerry’s super exalted circle as well——-
Mike and I are in Jerry’s dressing room talking to Jerry about this and that (doesn’t everyone?) and somehow the conversation drifts over to heroin——-don’t ask———and, somehow I had overlooked trying smack at that point, so, mustering my newbi nerve I ask Jerry, “What’s it like?” and I’ll never forget this………he makes a motion like scissors with his forefinger and middle finger, you know what I mean, right? cutting this big square in the air around his face and as he’s doing this he says, “It cuts away care..”
Truer words, right?
I wish I could’ve found something I loved more than I hated feeling…….well, we could just start with that——-feeling. Why couldn’t I love something or someone in life more than I worshiped feeling close to or altogether numb?
I KNOW love my daughter that much. But other than her, I just could never seem to make any more of these more noble feelings last forever. Like every day forever. Instead of eventually wanting to stop the world revolving me around til I was at my misfits end……..and heading resolutely down oblivion road, head hanging in shame, eyes half mast in ingestion…….
Now, I’m not a COMPLETE idiot………I KNOW you can’t like EVERYTHING you do. I understand that right down to my bright shiny bones…….so why couldn’t I apply that in an unending way……….How bout life’s too short to shorten it more by smoking and snorting and slipping pills in my face for sustenance. Life is too short when these sorts of feelings bubble up long…….Keep more stuff in mind that you manage to slip in your mouth……..Crooked priorities……What I’m like in life is sometimes more than a little too real………Couldn’t I want to make my family and friends happy more that I wanted to do these tricky little inroads heading straight for NOT UN-happy? Couldn’t I do my best and someone better’s best too?
When I take myself away from the me I don’t want to be, I take me away from them too…….And every nite I waited from my ultimate comeuppance. I wanted to push it too far…….Finally all those infractions I ingested would add up, eventually subtracting me right out of this math of being me……an equation keeping me in a world that finally didn’t add up………..
Lost the thought found the feelings…….on drugs, off kilter……….more, better, different, less
TO BE CONTINUED….
I had dental surgery this week. My daughter was thrilled (in a mellow, knowing way), because`I was not given pain medicine—–despite the severity of the procedure. The theory behind this perhaps unique form of post operative pain control was that one is only allotted a certain amount of opiates in a lifetime and I had used my coupon. Come to think of it, I may have used a few other people’s coupons as well. And if you think that you may have been one of those people whose coupon I have——–however inadvertently usurped—–Please accept my heartfelt apology.
The funny thing is that I discovered thru this experience that things like Advil actually work. I’m just saying………
Here’s the other thing I was going to tell you. Someone wrote me —– a bipolar someone—- wondering how I managed to move thru this wide, wild world of ours and actually manage to accomplish things. Accomplish, and, at intervals, even thrive. So I thought about it. (I also thought about this other girl posting that she found me annoying. And I concluded that I also found myself annoying at times as well………Empathy anyone?)
Anyhow, this bipolar person was curious how I managed to function given that I was still symptomatic enough mentally ill-wise to require and/or benefit from ECT. One thing that may have assisted in this endeavor is that when I started lurking around 12 step meetings and attending every sort of intensive known to man about …….lets say……….27 or 8 years ago………(not that I’ve been sober for that length of time, by something very like a long shot)…….I found myself resenting the fact that I HAD to go to some of these meetings if I was interested at all in ensuring a semi chaos free existence———-
Didn’t they know that I had better things to do with my time??!!!!!? Better people to hang out with, FAR better places to hang out with them in compared to human ish churches!!!!!………
Didn’t they know who I WAS?????
Didn’t they know who I wanted them to think I was?
Yes, fine, I admit I had sunk quite low in anyone and everyone’s estimation………but that STILL didn’t stop me from thinking that this sort of solution was FAR beneath me.
I may have shared my feelings of displeasure to someone——-I must have———because only a statement such as that would have provoked this person to say, “You don’t have to like these meetings, you just have to go.”
Wait. Not…….cause see, I thought I had to like everything I did, right? I mean, life was too short for me to accept feelings of upset or———
What a fucking concept.! You mean I DIDN’T have to like what I did all the time?
(making me the ultimate candidate for drug addiction. Having a hard time? Upset? Lonely or lost in the crowd? Can’t seem to feel like everyone else seems????======…….bottom line is——-get loaded!!!! Someone says, “I could care less.!” and you think, “Shit, I COULD care less. I could care less all the goddam time, in fact. I couldn’t care less that the more that I do!)
Well, it turns out that I’m kind of a moron. I forgot that if you say something on twitter there’s every chance that that dumb twit will go—–if not around the world, then in too many places for comfort.
I tweeted about my father’s health the other day. I mentioned that he was having episodes that could be classified as delusional. Sadly, this is true. But it’s only true some of the time. Especially at night, when there’s less blood in the brain. The whole laying down process is not conducive to creating the sharpest of wits. I believe there’s a condition called Sundown Syndrome, where seniors become more confused as the moon gets higher in the sky.
My dad at 81might not be the most active of the elder set, but he absolutely knows me and we have coherent conversations. (which is a huge deal, when you factor in both of our substance abuse histories) It may be more accurate to say that we have OUR VERSION of coherent conversations. And let’s face it, a lot of the time, coherence is HIGHLY over rated, and something both my father and myself spent an inordinate amount of time avoiding.
My father is no longer ambulatory, but he’s making the best of a challenging situation. I know a number of people in their 80’s that are living very active, vital lives. Unfortunately my dad is not one of these sorts of seniors.
Recently I was regaling my dad with tales of my recent travels. He interrupted me saying, “I wish I had your life!” I told him, “You did! That’s why you’re in bed now!”
My father loves watching the news and ADORES President Obama. So his sense of good government has not been impaired. His post sundown confusion includes the feeling that he has been locked in a bakery and needs to get out, so he can continuing planning a fundraiser with/for Obama. I would say that he’s putting the fun in fun-draiser…….My dad has had a VERY full life. Over flowing full. And now he’s taking a much needed rest. He lives in a lovely, little house in Berkeley with a view of the bay that we found for him and has some very capable care givers. He’s lucky he can afford the kind of care he’s receiving…..
As far as the bakery goes……..I can think of worse places to imagine being locked in. I mean, if you have to have the occasional delusion, Obama, fresh bread and cookies.
I had ECT yesterday, & the main thing that I remember about it is (other than hardly anything at all) that when they dragged me on my little gurney to its resting place beside Dr. Kramer and his machine that will electrocute me to adorable wellness……….
Dr. Kramer gazed down at me and said, “Let’s see how much glitter you have on today!” But after studying me briefly, he noticed that I was virtually glitter free. “Am I to assume that this is a sign that you’re depressed? Should we shorten the time between treatments?”
The bottom line is that to ascertain whether or not I’m depressed these days, you no longer have to scrutinize my bummed out or beatific expression———just check and see how much glitter I’m sporting on my eye lids and such…………..
I still haven’t un packed my bags and bags of glitter……….the glitter I used or didn’t use in New York———because I can’t imagine where I can keep it. So there it is, in bags and boxes, in my bathroom, waiting for me to make up my newly electrocuted mind.
Have been on a cooking bender of late. In my belated, and perhaps misguided attempt to resemble a “mother”………a traditional mother, that is. One quite unlike my own mumbly peg mom…….Not that there’s anything WRONG with my mother’s rendition of parenting. Far from it. She was both mother and father to my brother and I. Not only that, but an amazing role model for not only overcoming all obstacles, but thriving and excelling once said overcoming——after miles of doing—– done. ———-at least til the next time. Had my mother bothered to assemble a motto or six, one of them could have been, “If at first you do succeed, then by God, there’s a good chance you could succeed again. And even another time after that——–Only this time your success might (have to?) come from an unexpected direction. Unexpected perhaps, but not wholly unfamiliar.”
As mottos go, this one is, admittedly, more than a bit unwieldy……..But I”ve never been accused of being succinct. Bloated, yes. Endless, absolutely. But succinct & myself is ANYTHING but a match.
I was discussing my recent sojourn in my kitchen. Slaving over stoves and suchlike. I find it so restful at times, you know? Stop me if I’ve told you this before, but giving yourself over to the dictates of recipes is……….a relief, you might say. (If I hadn’t already) Deciding on what recipe you’ll be working from—-once that’s over, your deciding is done. For this while anyway. Until the next recipe, or the one after that. The recipe suggests that you get a cup of milk. No big deal. When you’ve done that you could get a teaspoon of vanilla…….or even baking soda. And on and on you go——–assembling all that the recipe asks of you——-until it’s time for the oven or the stove! And after all this——–I”m sorry if I sound ridiculous———but after all this, there’s this thing that you made! A thing you can give to other people to put in their bodies———-a practical, tangible sort of caring. You feed them! They put your food into a slot in their heads! It’s pretty intimate, if you think about it from an unnecessarily weird angle. —-Which I don’t encourage you to do. That way madness lies. With me, spread out beside it.
All this to say………I’ve cooked things that I’ve cooked before. I’m a creature of habit. In the kitchen and elsewhere…….But then……..THEN……my daughter suggested that I venture out of my safe assortment of dishes and move on into the realm of THINGS I HAND MADE BEFORE. So I did. I made fettuccine alfredo! Raspberry muffins! Christmas morning muffins! Non hash brownies! Cheese Souffle with bacon!!!! Rice pudding! (three times———bad results…….would appreciate suggestions……)
Since “Wishful Drinking” closed, this is the most creative thing I’ve done. Oh, I’ve written. But I’ve cooked more.
Maybe I’m cooking to avoid writing. I used to clean the house———-throwing out a no longer welcome accumulation of ‘cargo’, and thrusting it out into the world. Re arranging rooms and reading books. Even RE reading them! All in an effort to not put things into words. I deliberately keep things OUT of words——-instead stuffing the un words into stoves and mouths and storage boxes and a sprinkling of expectant, outstretched hands. But I’m afraid I can indulge in these caprices any longer…(didn’t I just sound British there? This movie, “Darwin” is on in the background, and the accents in it have infected me with it’s affectation)
That’s all for the immediate now. The movie just ended and I guess I did too. For now, anyway. For the immediate and on going now, Charles Darwin and I bid you adieu.
Talk to you soon…………
Sorry about silence! Have become something of a shut in since I returned and MUST get a new laptop! An assortment of letters are sticking—–many of them useful!
I was hoping to go on a vacation after the past 2 and a half years of performing around this great land of ours…….but alas and alec (baldwin), it appears that those plans will not be taking effect any time soon…….home appears to be where my heart is, as I am zuzzing around with my daughter and re establishing my connection with my erstwhile roots here in sunny and very unlike my recent eastcoast sojourn…….
My house has been waiting expectantly all this time and I have no wish to let it down for this twinkle of a bit…….
So, though I am multi saddened that I am not someone currently scanning the globe——-checking it for holes and hiding places…….. finding my way around the landscapes of Billie Lourd and all her treasured terrains is all the trek I need
Perhaps I can nip off somewhere and sample the tastes of some culture or other that isn’t as faraway as Asia…….but meanwhile, my proposed schlep to Harbin, China and its alluring month long Ice and Snow fest will have to be shelved til next February……I hhhhhhhhhope (the “h” sticks the most!) that things would change, allowing me to waltz around and wander thru wonders, asian, amazing and other…….oh well……..
In the cosy interim, I’ve been reading a lot and exercising with my beloved Dion again (who I have worked out with ever since my first and most profound visit to the mental hospital 12 years ago———–) So perhaps I’ll be able to rid myself of the additional flesh I’ve been amassing for the last several years while performing and grazing the good old U S of A for food items that have contributed to my currently unrecognizable and tragic flesh bag———-the bag that houses my bigger than life personality
Haven’t written as much as I should lately……maybe this is a sign that that will soon change
My father has melted much more and thinks that he’s been locked in a bakery and needs to get out to go to a fundraiser that he and Obama and a famous base ball player are giving. So I’ll have to go visit him in Berkeley soon to spring him from between the hot rolls and the cheese cake…….
That’s all for now……..but hopefully this will herald a much more regular and predictable communication and put an end to my recent quiet time……..
You know those people you can’t imagine ever saying, “you know—–you may be right!” or, “Huh, I never thought of it that way…..that’s a good point!” Certainty freaks…..Their version of things is THE version. Nothing in them is teachable….
I could go thru a bunch of stories, wagging my tail, eager to please, all in a sometimes desperate attempt to get you to like me. Actually, I don’t want you to like me so much as be the greatest person you ever met. I want to explode in the night sky of your approval. So rather than going thru all that effort of charming you….. Pushing you to a state of grinning til your face hurts—– what are we pretending not to know here? Instead of frantically trying to coax your good opinion out of you like a crazed suitor, & in the name of saving a lot of energy on both sides I want to propose an understanding——- you loan me your good opinion & I’ll use it as down payment on a little place where I can go to when my bad weather threatens on the horizon—– where I can wait out the storm of uncertainty—-
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