Marrying George Clooney

it’s been a few days since i’ve written my blog.
i have to be really honest, i’m very addicted. and if there were a bloggers anonymous, i would be getting up and speaking and saying: hi my name is amy, i haven’t blogged in about 36 hours, and my greatest fear is that no one gives a shit.

but i know that’s not totally true.
not totally. i know a few folks missed me. they’ve called.

so, the good news is i have much to share since i’ve been gone.

two days ago i almost ran out of gas, and so, i pulled into a NO FRILLS GAS STATION.
thus began my journey.

i fired my agent. it was scary & hard & yet at the same time i was living in such fear for so long that i actually felt as if i was (maybe) a battered writer. i am going to live in a safe house with other authors & writers who have experienced the same awful self-doubt, self-hatred, & horrific emotional & creative block. that should be a fun few weeks.

ken & i drove into nyc yesterday. we had our yearly medical check-up TOGETHER – as in literally “TOGETHER.” i mean, together, in the same examination room. i mean, our doctor was running a bit late, so he asked if we would BOTH go upstairs, to the same room, so he can examine us simultaneously. this was not planned, and i wanna say for the record, seeing my husband in a short blue paper gown with white piping was not exciting or sexy. nor was he excited seeing me hooked up to an EKG. and… we can no longer lie about how much we each weigh, and i know more about my husband’s prostate than i ever cared to know, and on the flip-side, ken knows a bit more about my breast fibroid(s) and newly discovered (as of yesterday) mental illness. although truth be told, our internist (who we both deeply enjoy independently!) seemed to think this was a huge fun experience, and a real kick. we both got pharmaceutical samples. ken got cialis, i got lexapro. the doctor said one of the side effects of lexapro is that i will maybe possibly have no sex drive. i looked at him. i looked at the cialis packages he had just given ken and i said: “what’s up with that joke?”

and then there was some problem with another patient, who was screaming and carrying on, and all kinds of shit was happening, and i told ken, “you know what, i’m gonna go get the car at the parking garage.” leaving him to pay, both literally & figuratively.

and then we drove around new york city for oh, about an hour and a half because traffic was unbearable. UN FUCKING BEARABLE. ken wanted to score some marijuana so he could relax, i wanted to buy a gun so i could go on a killing spree.

and then we met up with most of my cousins for dinner. the only surprise – other than seeing my cousin richard who i didn’t expect to see – which was so lovely & delightful – was that no one – not one cousin – seems to age at all. all gorgeous amazing people. truly. whew.

and then on our drive home, the engine light went on, and then the thermostat needle went sky high right through the H is for HEAT roof, and then … a semi-pleasant (with an occasional fuck you, no fuck you) 90 minute drive turned into a 3.5 hour hell-storm of fear and worry and pulling over to the shoulder and calling triple AAA and pulling over to the shoulder, and holy shit holy shit holy shit… and pulling into one gas station where the gas station attendant gave us bogus info, and yes, yes, we TIPPED HIM, thank you very much, and then we drove a bit more, and ken was utterly convinced that we were gonna blow sky high, and i was chanting & praying both out loud and to myself, and he yelled at me to PRAY & CHANT LOUDER and i said FUCK YOU, and he said LOUDER FASTER you have to pray & chant FOR BOTH OF US… and i was like, excuse me, i am praying & chanting for both of us, and then we pulled into another gas station and the attendant seemed a bit more knowledgeable about ‘engine’ issues, opened the hood, and voila, seems one of the things we needed was water, so two quarts of water later, and we TIPPED THAT GUY, and pulled out of the gas station, and then i turned to ken and said, looks like ‘our’ prayer was answered and we laughed & calmed down for oh, about a minute, and then the thermostat went sky high again, and ken told me to “PRAY & CHANT STRONGER AND LOUDER AND FASTER.” i told him to pray & chant for his own life, and then i stared out the window, thinking, a sign, i just need a sign… please, please, please… a sign…

and then i remembered with great clarity:

when we were leaving the doctors office, the screaming and carrying on was coming from an old – very old – fragile, sweet & weary woman with dementia — and she was SCREAMING at the top of her lungs:

GOD TOLD ME I’M GONNA GO CRAZY TODAY.
GOD TOLD ME I’M GONNA GO CRAZY TODAY.

and so…
i turned to ken who was going nuts as he gripped the steering wheel. I grabbed his white knuckled hand, and said:
you remember that woman in the doctors office, the woman screaming, and he nodded yes, yes, yes and i said, “today is her day, let’s give it to her, let her have the whole crazy day to herself.”

with that, the thermostat needle went right smack between H & C for about five minutes, giving us enough emotional stamina to get the fuck home. and today we found out that we indeed had blown the ‘head’ gasket.

and i just wanna say for the record, the term ‘sex drive’ has a completely new meaning to me now.