Dear Asshole at the Red Line entrance this evening,

That's right. You're a complete asshole. What kind of person watches someone slip down a flight of stairs (yes, readers, Grace has no grace. Apparently Grace also refers to herself in the third person, but that's a separate issue) and instead of saying "oh my god are you ok?" shakes their head disapprovingly and says, "Why do you wear those?" referring to my shoes? I'll tell you what kind of person does that: A TOTAL FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!

Seriously. Who the fuck do you think you are? You are fucking lucky you didn't end up with the heel to "those" smashed into your spinal column.

I mean, it's not like I popped up all fine and dandy and brushed myself off. No. I was down for the count. There were tears. There may or may not have been a yelp followed by a moment of whimpering. You fucking stepped around a crying, hurt woman to make your snide little comment. I hope you feel good about yourself.

Fucking prick. Jerk. Jackass. I hope your dick falls off.

PS. You are ridiculously unattractive.

PPS. If anyone cares, I'm fine.

PPPS. It's not like I was wearing stripper shoes in the snow. It was clear and dry, and clearly the heel isn't insanely high. Right? Of course I'm right. Asshole.

Grace Meets Grace

Today, I went to my mother's house for Thanksgiving dinner. My sister brought along her new puppy.

Her new puppy. Who she named GRACE. Yes. My big sister named her dog Grace. And not Grace, as in my pseudonym for this blog. I mean, my REAL name.

Here's what the night sounded like:

"Grace, congrats on getting sworn in as a lawyer!"

"Ooops! Grace made a poopie on the kitchen floor!"

"Grace, how's your new condo?"

"Grace is eating the cat's food again!"

"Grace! NO! NO!"

"Look at how cute Grace is!"

"Grace! NO BEGGING! NO!"

"Grace... did you just make a skinky?"

Suffice it to say the night was very confusing.


What the fuck? What kind of person gives her puppy the same name as her sister?

Don't even get me started on how much I dislike Bichons. Sorry if you own one.


They just look evil.

PS. That's not a picture of Grace. But it's what she looks like.

Ready. Set. Fuck You, Holidays

Happy Thanksgiving.

Sometimes I Just Need a Man to Toss My Salad

And Alejandro is just that man.

I'm cheating on my salad bar. With Alejandro.

I love my salad bar, because I love the idea of getting exactly what I want. And that's what a salad bar is all about. Choices. Well, you know sometimes I don't want to make choices. I want them made for me.

So today, I walked into my salad bar. I picked up my plastic to go container. I walked over to the selection of toppings. And froze. It was all just too much. I felt overwhelmed. Too many choices. I couldn't do it. So I walked out.

I walked around the block looking for something to eat. Nothing seemed to grab my attention. Corner Bakery sucks. Au Bon Pain sucks more. Panera sucks the most. (Sorry Lilly).

Inexplicably, I wandered into a restaurant I never noticed before. I never caught the name of it, but I'm sure I'll know it soon enough.

I walked to the back of the restaurant and read the sign "Create your own salad! 3 toppings w/ a protein- $5.99!"

Alejandro's eyes met mine. "What do you want?" he said. I pointed to the sign.

"Ok," he said evenly. "Mixed greens or romaine?"

I shrug. It's not that I am indifferent. I just don't know what I want. He doesn't wait long for an answer.

"OK, then. You get romaine." I smiled gratefully. He knew. He's seen it before. And he was prepared.

"It's not a BBQ chicken day, is it? Grilled chicken, right?"

I nodded again. I might have gotten a little teary. Alejandro knew me. He GOT me.

"OK, Lady. Now you pick three toppings. Wait... let's just do one at a time. Can you pick one topping?"

"Mushrooms," I said.

Alejandro smiled. "Nice. Very nice. Mushrooms are good. Can you pick another one?"

Feeling more confident, I burst out with "cucumbers!!"

"Oh, yeah, honey. Cucumbers are so good. Good girl. Now one more."

I was spent. "I don't know," I confessed.

Alejandro knew. Fuck yeah, he knew. "OK, then I give you broccoli." I could have kissed him.

I was done. I'd made it to the other side. Almost. Alejandro needed more from me.

"What dressing do you want?"

We stood there staring into each other's eyes, challenging each other, each waiting for the other to answer first.

Finally, I couldn't handle it anymore and blurted out "FAT FREE RANCH!"

He exhaled, and gently shook his head, like I had been a very bad girl.

"You're getting ginger-soy, Lady."

I blushed and nodded my head. Ginger soy it was.

And as Alejandro fervently drizzled the ginger soy all over my salad, I knew it would be a lunch I wouldn't soon forget.

Gracias, Alejandro.

Dear My Dead Junkie,

I'm sorry to refer to you like that in the title of a post. It sounds like I'm almost trying to make a joke. I'm not. I just can't call you by your name, and I can't call you by a fake name, because that seems like something you'd hate.

You died a year ago today. You were found face down on a bed. Of a heroin overdose. with some other junkie dude.

No one will ever ever ever replace you in my heart. My life will never be the same.

Your mom sent an email, trying to remind those who love you to remember you for your strength, your humor, your kindness and your love. I am trying. But I can't help but sense what the world is missing without your presence in it.

We'd known each other for such a long time, yet kind of a short time. And I remember a long time ago, this one moment. i don't know what you said, or what was going on, but I felt like doing or saying something cynical. Because that's who I am... A cynical bitch. But then. I looked at you and I stopped myself. And I promised myself that I would never ever be cynical with you. I would start believing in happy endings. And, with you. I never was cynical again. Until then...

Ironic. Because as it turns out, people like you are the very reason cynicism exists.

But nonetheless, today I just cry for you. and i feel sorry for the whole world. that they don't get to have you anymore. but, selfishly, I'm saddest for me.


I miss you. So much.

Love Eternally,

Grace

Sunny Side Up- A play

Cast of Characters:

• Grace- A woman with a hypothesis, some friends, and a nice pair of legs, and of course a resting B.A.C. of slightly above the legal limit. Works for a talent agency, although she's been applying to law schools in the Midwest.
  

• Esmerelda- A stunningly beautiful actress, with a middle eastern look, but I forgot exactly where her family is from. She's very well educated, has an inquisitive mind, and a belly dancers body. Grace and Esmerelda have been known to.. enjoy the vino on occasion.

• Coleman- Grace's friend from High School, and Esmerelda's friend from her undergrad years. Coleman is a big black dude with adorable freckles, and dreadlocks, and he is a ridiculously talented musician. He also likes to smoke the pot.

• BJ- Grace's roommate. A stand-up comic who enjoys working bits of Grace's personal life into his stand up routines. His fiancee broke up with him. She's a porn star now. For real.

---------------------------

• The Time: Scene I is in the present, the rest of the play occurs one winter night in 2003.
  

• The Place: Grace's house in Los Angeles.

----------------------------

*Note from playwright- the events in this play occur in reverse order. Sort of like Harold Pinter's "Betrayal" or Stephen Sondheim's "Merrily We Roll Along" if that helps.

-----------------------

Scene I- The present

Grace and Esmerelda on the phone

Esmerelda: Remember that night a couple of years ago?

Grace: Of course I do. We were REALLY drunk.

Esmerelda: People think we're gross.

Grace: Who cares what people think? It's normal to be curious.

Esmerelda: That's true. Everyone experiments, right?

Grace: RIGHT! You're right though. People haven't responded how I thought they would. I didn't think people would be so... disturbed. I'm not ashamed though. I had fun.

Esmerelda: Me too!

---------------------

Scene II- 2003

BJ: Whose frying pan did you use?

Grace: Um.... whose is the small one?

BJ: MINE

Grace: Then we used yours.

BJ: Fuck you Grace! You are buying me a new frying pan.

-------------------

Scene III-

Grace: Wow! I was right. I KNEW IT!!!!

Esmerelda: That's really cool.

Coleman: Wow. I'm amazed no one's ever tried this before. Who's gonna eat it now?

Grace: No fucking way.

Esmerelda: No fucking way.

BJ enters looking suspicious

BJ: Hey Guys. What the fuck are you doing?

--------------

Scene IV-

Esmerelda: Are we just supposed to sit here and wait?

Grace: I guess. I don't want to watch him, do you?

Esmerelda: No, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't want us watching him.

Coleman: Ok bitches, get in here!

Esmerelda: That was fast.

Grace: Yeah, REALLY fast! (yelling to Coleman) Is the frying pan hot?

Coleman: Yes. Get in here.

Grace: Did you add margarine or olive oil?

Coleman: Of course. Hurry up!

Grace and Esmerelda run to the kitchen.

------------

Scene V-

Coleman: It should go in a bowl first. Not directly into a hot frying pan. I don't want to drunkenly explain this to the ER at Cedars Sinai.

Esmerelda: No. You're right. Your wife will kill you. And us.

Grace: I'm going to go find a suitable frying pan. Who wants more wine?

Esmerelda: Just bring out the whole bottle. And I think we should use a small frying pan. no offense Coleman.

Coleman: None taken, Es.

--------------

Scene VI-

Esmerelda: You'd really do this for us, Coleman?

Coleman: Sure! Why not.

Grace: Are you sure you're going to be able to? Aren't you a little too drunk?

Coleman: I'm never too drunk to masturbate into a hot frying pan for you two ladies.

Grace and Esmerelda (in unison): Awwwwwwwwww!!!!

---------------

Scene VII-

Esmerelda: I hear it's good for your hair.

Coleman: It's a great source of protein.

Grace: I wonder if Atkins endorses blow jobs?

Coleman: They should.

Grace: You know what else I wonder. The whites of a raw egg are very similar in consistency. The whites of an egg are also very high in protein.

Esmerelda: Yes. Very true. Go on...

Grace: Do you think the same thing would happen to jizz if we fried it?

Esmerelda: I don't know. But we HAVE to find out.

All eyes are on Coleman.

Coleman: I'll do it.

--------------

Scene VIII-

Grace: Should I open another bottle?

Esmerelda: Absolutely

Coleman: Go for it.

---------------

The end. Or... the beginning.

Epilogue

Grace: it DOES fry the same.