Dont Mince Words

I’ve become one of them….one of those pansy-ass denizens of LA that has a mental meltdown when the near perfect weather changes. Monday night I remembered nothing is perfect and I was born with blonde hair.

I was tired, cold and hungry and decided to gas up during high winds while sheets of rain poured in on me while thinking better now than in a.m. rush hour. I pulled out of the 76 and made it a block before my car died in four inches of water. Now I was really pissed. I should have been home where it was dry planning my next sunny day activities.

Instead, I sat in my car and waited for roadside assistance. An hour later, with the windows fogged up, Juan pulled up behind me. I popped the hood and he listened to the engine grind. He walked up to my window and asked, “Did you just fill up at that gas station?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I bet you put diesel in your tank. I’ve picked up at least 40 people at this very location in my career,” he added.

OK. Terrific. So, I’m an idiot, but not the only fucking idiot in LA.

I found little comfort the next day when Shawn, the Honda Service Scheister, called me. I knew my tank and fuel line needed to be douched. But old Shawn said I also needed brakes and an oil change. When I showed up to retrieve my got-that-fresh-clean-feeling Honda, Shawn gladly swiped my credit card. “Don’t feel bad. It is a common mistake. Hey, at least you get miles on this travel visa,” he said.

After experiencing $1,063 worth of immediate financial carnage, I pulled out and drove west on Washington Boulevard into the sunset with the window down and tunes cranked. I’m OK. The car is OK. LA is back to perfect.

I’m probably the only woman who doesn’t lie about her age. Well, I do like telling 20-something boys I’m 29 just to see if they believe me. However, in the days before and after my birthday this year, I have to say, I’m ready to lie.

“Wow, you are 38? I can’t believe you aren’t married. You are such a catch,” said one random man.

“Men should be laying down in the road to get your attention. Why aren’t you married?” said another.

If it is OK to be 29 and single, then I think that’s the age I’m sticking with.

I received an email out of the blue this morning from a friend from high school. We’ve probably chatted a dozen times since 1983. Today he sent an email in response to my holiday card.

“Marna – In 11th grade psychology class all you talked about was the Jefferson Airplane, Moby Grape, and the never-ending trip that is the West Coast. So now decades later, you have fulfilled your dream of being in California, being Grace Slick and having 1000’s of wasted men chanting F-U-C-K at/with you. Congrats. Dave”

I was so touched Dave had such a vivid memory of me and my goals. Sometimes it takes distant friends like Dave to remind me that I have taken some interesting paths in my life. I also realized I have come full circle and returned to my one core strength – writing. My friends, for years, have begged me to write more. I’m finally at a place in my life where I feel the writing is good and, hopefully, profitable.

I need to listen to my friends more often. Mary, a dear friend from college, has saved every scrap of my writing. She’s convinced I’m going to be famous and she’s going to get rich quick selling my old stuff on Ebay.

Matt, another friend from college, said the following, “You probably get this from married guys all the time but as I read through your writings this morning it really hit home for me…you are pretty special! Besides the fact that I have known you for an unbelievable 15+ years you are without question one of the most articulate interesting friends that I have!”

Kim, a fellow Richmond refugee, followed with “LA seems to agree with you, or at least it’s unleashed the writing beast within.”

My brother’s old roommate added, “Wow – think you need to switch over to journalism & dump marketing once & for all. Freelance writing maybe?? Or a column in a good alternative weekly out there?”

A former coworker wrote this in the new year, “I can’t tell you the amount of enjoyment I get from reading your Blog site. Take care and keep the blog rolling.”

A friend stationed in Saudia said, “I love your blog – I share it with the guys that I work with and I am about to share it with some selected Saudi women, though I am concerned that you might foment a revolution. Your writing is always so creative and funny!!”

So, my friends, as I close in on my 38th birthday, I want to thank you for believing in me. I have arrived, I’m kicking ass, and I’m still yelling FUCK. I will never change.