Thursday, June 03, 2004
( 9:26 AM ) Rebecca
Yours truly has been in a bit of a funk since she turned the big 3-6.
Not that there is any reason to be in a funk, except of course, the usual - will die old, alone, childless, locked up in sister's attic, etc etc.
In fact, some things are happening in my mid-mid-thirties that are, in a word, thrilling. Yours truly should be tap-dancing around Seattle, head thrown back and laughing, instead of slumped at my desk with my door closed and blinds shut so no one can see that I'm crying.
Well, one little thing has happened. I've been offered a contract by a literary agent. Oui. At last! After eight years of toil; and before that, six years of post-college agony and insecurity where I could barely put pen to paper; and before that a childhood spent knowing that I would be a Famous Writer (that is, unless I chose to be a Famous Singer, Famous Photographer, or Famous Supermodel).
So yes, in the moments where I'm supercharged with caffeine, and the sun is shining and San Francisco Bay shimmers over the next hill (as it did this weekend), I celebrate and think yes. I've finally done it. Or part of it anyway. After all, I still have to sell - and finish - the d*mn book.
But in other moments, when the caffeine has worn off, and my hair has been flattened by that San Francisco wind,and I am doubly sure Sporty Architect Boy is not the One, and that, in fact, no one will ever be The One, because I obviously have some kind of fatal flaw despite being beautiful and kind and all-around wonderful,and that yes, maybe I will one day be a Famous and Glamorous Author (because I certainly won't be a well-respected literary one), but what will it all be worth because I will be alone, alone, alone!
Unless of course, Jake Gyllenhall stars in Breakup Babe, The Movie, and I get hang out on the set in funky glasses and my chic new periwnkle poncho (so chic you might think it unfashionable) and he leaves that ditzy Kirsten Dunst for me.
So, for now, I am like the Seattle spring weather. Sunny and gay one minute, torrential rain the next - alternating with gray dull flatness and seguing back to sun.
All I can say is thank God for the pharmaceuticals.
E-mail Breakup Babe