Day 54

Day 54, self quarantine 

I’ve never been so happy to see a Friday in my life.  Work wise, I had a really miserable week...nothing earth shattering, just some stupid mistakes I made which “may” have slightly upset my boss, which in turn upset and embarrassed me because I’m such a delicate flower. 😎

Have I ever mentioned my boss is born the same day as Julie?  In case you couldn’t tell, my higher power has a wicked sense of humor.

So now I’m doing that whole questioning my existence thing usually reserved for someone younger because during quarantine I’m remembering how much I love writing essays and fiction more than anything in the world and I wonder why the hell I’m not just doing it full time.

Oh yeah, because I tried it twice before, and, erm, that pesky money thing.  It turned out worrying about paying the bills had a chilling effect on my creativity.

Though I came close to making it once.  A Hollywood producer named Spielberg contacted me about my book, Three Days in New York City. He wanted to make it into a movie and and when he realized it was a trilogy, excitedly decided to pitch it as a series to HBO.  In an epic disaster that could only happen to me...welp, you can read all about it here in a wonderful publication called, I kid you not, Drunk Monkeys. 

https://www.drunkmonkeys.us/film/2015/10/4/welcome-to-hollywood-by-robin-slick

But now money isn’t an issue. If I retire in August, I still get a monthly check for the rest of my life, regardless.

Hmmm.

Light bulb moment.

Back in 2000, before social media, I was part of an online writer’s group, Zoetrope Studios, founded by Francis Ford Coppola.  Technically I’m still a member but I’ve been inactive because blech Facebook, Twitter and work. We were all fledgling writers, some of us more hell bent on a writing career than others...some certainly more talented than others...but we shared a mutual love of words.

While active, I wrote four books in five years and had short stories and essays published everywhere.  

I could do some serious name dropping about some of my superstar Zoetrope friends. Many are internationally acclaimed.  One is an author and ex-wife of Elon Musk —she once sent me a note “I love your writing, Robin Slick!” while she was still married to Elon and I had no fucking clue who Elon was.

So that’s pretty cool.

What also got me thinking about my Zoetrope years are all the bookshelf pics popping up on social media.

I have crammed bookshelves and books literally all over this house but I thought I’d post a pic of a shelf reserved for my favorite books written by my favorite friends.

Naturally, it’s my favorite shelf in the house.

Pretty much most of these books contain personal notes and autographs.  I’m kinda blushing to say I also appear in many acknowledgements.

Though Nick Hornby friended me on Facebook after realizing I was Eric Slick’s mother. 

Apparently he’s a fan.

Same thing for Luis Urrea though he’s a fan of both Julie and Eric.

I already told you about Neil Gaiman and me.

You really can’t go wrong with anyone on this shelf but I want to give special shoutouts to Ellen Meister and Susan Henderson, two wonderful, magical writers and friends of mine for almost twenty years.

I used to have an interesting life, huh.

Hey, maybe I will again.

Who the hell knows anything anymore?

Not me.

But I do know one thing.  It’s Friday and that means pizza.

Hell, yeah.

Have fun, everyone.

 

Day 53

Day 53, self quarantine:

So apparently yesterday was my non Hallmark version of Mother’s Day which was really cool because it was completely unexpected.

Gary had to run to Aldi and they had all kinds of fresh cut flowers there so he thought it would be cool to fill the house with them, something we haven’t done much since quarantine.

Wait, I have to interrupt this post for something I just heard on the news - a podcast series called quarantine dating confessions.

“Does she like me enough to meet me outside?”

“I started making out with my dog so I won’t forget how.”

Oy vey, I am so glad I’m old.

Anyway, so yeah, my house is now filled with flowers, and because this is me and I’ve already let you know how nuts I am, as soon as Gary walked out of the room I hit Google to see if those beautiful bouquets could be deadly coronavirus carriers.

Nah, but what I did find  instead was an article, “Where have all the flowers gone?” about how the pandemic has affected florists, which are considered a non-essential business.

https://nymag.com/intelligencer/amp/2020/04/how-do-you-buy-flowers-during-the-coronavirus.html

Think about that.  We’re now living in a world where flowers aren’t essential.

I  find that heartbreaking and pretty much psychologically devastating.

The article goes on to remark that it’s terrible enough there are no funerals, you can’t even send a bereavement gift.

Though we Jews have it covered, we mourn exactly as we celebrate.  With lots and lots of food.

Anyhow, as I was working upstairs, I heard Jake go ballistic downstairs.  That usually meant the mailman but then I heard the front door open and close and Gary yelled, “Rob, there’s something here for you!”

Let me stop and tell you something right now.  When you’ve been quarantined for eight weeks, there are few sweeter words.

I almost killed my self flying down the stairs.

Ooh a big brown box.  

After wiping it down for ten minutes, I put on my mask and gloves to open it while Gary laughed his ass off.

Omg.   Mothers Day chocolate from daughter Julie.  From a legendary chocolatier near Woodstock.

There’s kind of a funny story behind it.  Julie and Gary were at their yearly, weekly music camp in Woodstock during my birthday last year.  I thought I was being pretty mature to “allow” that but since they were coming home the next day, it really wasn’t that magnanimous of a gesture.  Since I am the woman who has everything, I googled chocolatiers near Woodstock, found an awesome place, and gave Julie and Gary instructions.

I don’t know what the hell really happened but when Gary got home, he handed me a bag with six caramels and said Happy Birthday!

Looking back on my reaction to that comment now, during quarantine, with life and death in the balance, is pretty much humiliating.  It was definitely not one of my finer moments.

And I was angry at both of them for weeks.

Could there be any more wasted energy?

But the fact that Julie, quarantined in Seattle for months now, thought to send candy from the shop I researched for my birthday kinda blew me away.

I mean, it was not only thoughtful, it was hilarious.

And the chocolate...oh my God.

It’s actually so good I won’t be able to eat the whole box in my usual modus operandi of one sitting.  In fact, I’ve only had three pieces so far.

This is savoring chocolate, people.  Look at the pic.  

Eric, if you’re reading this, no pressure.  You just bought a house, dude. 😎

Okay, now that Mother’s Day is over, back to the real world.  Gary will be working out back today (yes!) and I will be working on the Mediation Memo I promised my boss last Tuesday.

Oh well.  Shit happens.  I’ll get it done.

Sigh.

Have an awesome Tuesday.