I awoke this morning, like many mornings, fully clothed shoes and all laying on my back with my arms crossed like Dracula which incidentally is the way I thought you died as a child except your tongue would stick staight out of you mouth like a rigid slug. I also assumed when you died x's would magically appear over you eyelids.
Hold on, my bartender wants me to come out of my hole and watch the bar so he can smoke, "wah wah wah, I'm a little puss.". I need to start thrashing and whipping these people.
Ok where was I. Oh ya' waking up. I, lately, have been addicted to renting movies from the library. This round was full of old movies and 2 modern crap films. So I started out this morning grabbing my left over smokes from last night and a pot of coffee, I do mean the full pot sitting on the floor next to my couch with my mug standing like a good soilder nearby, and Easy Rider. My VCR ate that one so I moved on to the Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?. You know, I've seen this movie a million times in my life but for the first time today something dawned on me. I don't know if it's because I'm older, or if it's because I grew my hair out, or if it's because my hair is now a bleach blonde... but I realized I am kind of like Jane Hudson. I'm a complete loon. I could totally see myself, convinced I was right, serving parokeets and rats on silver platters to loved ones. Or dressing like an overgrown seven year old, prancing around my living room like I got a goddamned audience, listening to Connie Francis or some other old bit of nostalgic music from my past. I always fuck up my relationships, just like Jane, cause' I'm doing something wrong or goofy in my house and become afraid to answer the door. Then I started laughing at the poor sister in the wheel chair rolling in circles gut moanin' into the air while Jane laughed like a pirate in heat in her lush bedroom AHAHAHAHAHAH. Crazy! Strangly I physically resemble the crazy old bat as well... big bulgy crazy eyes, wild long blonde hair, grunting and moaning all over the place desperately grabbing at empty bottles of booze so I have something to drink while I cry over a pile of old photos and scrapbooks. Weeping rivers of mascara on the floors, the walls, the bottom of the fridge, Lou the cat.
I finally came to the conclusion that my aging process is not going to be pretty or graceful. It will be more that of a sand sculpture crumbling over time, or a piece of forgotten fruit, a wax lady. People will whisper when I walk by "Whatever happened to baby Winky?".
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8 comments:
ooh, that's right, Winky. Do 'em all like you done this one. I think that's why that movie continues to be popular--we are all simultaneously repulsed and fascinated by those characters, especially women, I think. Plus, who doesn't want to act like a crazy bitch in a sweet, creepy Victorian pad, drinking tons of liquor, while your insides rot? I can think of worse ways to die...
Hell I'm doing it now in a run down nook and cranny cottage, rotting away. Tell me the truth do you not see the similarities between Jane and me? It's just two scenes...
1. When she digging through the empty booze cabinet freaking out.
2. When she's crying and dancing around singing the song about the letters to daddy. With heaping gobs of make-up on, like some painted up whore, smearing down her face.
Although when I do these things I call it "practice", for what I'm practicing I do not know.
that was a good movie. It was the serving of rat to the invalid (in val ed) sister that really got me, but i was young, today i'm more jaded and i would probably not shriek like a girl when the rat came out.
i'm sorry to sound you're troubled. I told you that you were working too much. i hate to say I told you so, but...I kinda did. remember?
I think you should treat yourself to a massage, and maybe a walk around the strange streets. that always peps me up. well, not always.
You will be glad to hear Ho that my slaving days are coming to an end. I think they may have finally after three months found someone to fill my position. This means I can go back to just mindless bartending a couple nights a week, and the days will be all mine.
I can spend my days taking long walks and playing with puppies. Oh the future of Winky is here.
You must be tremendously wealthy to afford such a lavish lifestyle. But it's not about money I remind myself. It's about joy. Like The Dude. Was he rich? Was he happy? Could he pay Bunny for a blow job?
The lessons that I have learned from this story are: always wear waterproof mascara, make sure that I'm never left grasping at empty booze bottles and that I want to be just like Winky when I grow up.
It's good to have role models.
Wink, you look like Bette Davis, true. That is true.
But are you like Baby Jane..? No. Don't worry. And don't think about this too much.
Whenever I see Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.. I need spend some time undoing what it does to my state of mind either with music, or another movie. Just watching Fawlty Towers can do the trick, too.
I love the ending. What a truly horrible day at the beach. Really horrible. For both of them. Just thinking about it makes me want to go watch TV to make it go away. Yet I watch this movie over and over and over..
I love Bette. She rocks. Amazing.
And you, Miss Wink, are hillarious..
It's true...
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