So, we have a baby now. Before that I was pregnant. That’s the order these things usually go in, so I’d say we’re off to a good start. When I was pregnant I was really excited to have Logan and write about my experience as a mom every night after he went to bed. So he’s 9 months old now and this is my first post since he was born. Well, a lot has happened. There’s been a lot of laughter and tears (from all of us), a lot of puke and poop (also from all of us), some amazing times and some times that I’m not even sure happened because I was so tired. Everyone is sleeping better now and I feel like myself again. For a long time I wondered if I would. Having a baby is hard! Even when everything is going great and we’re all happy it is hard work. But it is work that I love and Ro loves it too and for that I know we are very lucky. I have managed to jot a few things down when and where I can- my phone, an empty Desitin box, a Target receipt. It’s mostly stuff like “Logan puked in my water bottle today and I didn’t realize it until after I drank from it. Several times.” Or “Logan has 3 teeth- 2 bottoms and a fang up top. The waitress at IHOP called it a can opener.” Or “Logan smacked himself in the chest with a remote today and stared me dead in the eye without flinching like a thug on a prison yard trying to intimidate me. It worked.” The usual stuff I guess. Then there’s a lot of “Logan is so beautiful I realized I was holding my breath while staring at him today.” And “Logan smells so good it makes me dizzy.” And “Ok today for sure I really can’t possibly ever love him more than I do right now.” I write that one a lot.
Starring Jordan Black as Donald Bigbelow
Written by Charlotte Dean
Directed by Charlotte Dean and Tracy Newman
Original film score by Tracy Newman
Filmed by Nathan Warburton
Every Wednesday night, my husband and I have friends over to our house for dinner. Sometimes we play games, sometimes we make art, but no matter what, every evening ends up in some pretty interesting conversation. We’ve grown close and since most of us are not from Seattle, we’ve become a home away from home for each other. We talk about our lives, what we did that week, and who’s been pissing us off. Sometimes our conversations take on recurring themes and though the evenings come to an end, the topics come right back to life the following Wednesday.
One such topic was sparked by a comment I made one night about not understanding why cannibalism was such a big deal. I get why murder is a big deal, but if the person is already dead, what’s the problem? I told my friends that if we were stranded somewhere together and one of them died, I would have no problem eating that person. They had A LOT of questions for me and this became a popular dinnertime conversation.
A while back, I was visiting my mom in L.A. and I told her about it. I wondered if she would think of me differently. I said “Mom, I’ve thought about this a lot and I feel pretty sure that I could eat a person if I had to. Even someone I knew. So if I die and you’re starving, I just want you to know, it’s totally fine with me if you eat me.”
My mom looked at me smiling and said, “Honey, I don’t need your permission.”
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I think you should know about this yogurt I ate last night. It was coconut soy delight and the texture was exactly like old, hard, jello. It didn’t taste like anything to me, but I’m sure you would have been able to taste the coconut because you hate it so much. I wish you could have tasted it. I tried to punch up the flavor by adding honey and cinnamon, but it was late and I wasn’t wearing my glasses. I ended up adding honey and black pepper. That did not improve the taste. However, as I said, it was late, I was hungry and I didn’t want to wake anyone by cooking something, so I decided to try and salvage it. Luckily, because of its gelatinous consistency, I was able to scoop off the very top where I had added the pepper and remove almost all of it. I rinsed off my spoon and added more honey and actual cinnamon this time. I grabbed my yogurt and quietly tiptoed out of the kitchen. Just as I was making my way back up the stairs, I knocked over a screwdriver that was on the banister and it fell onto the stairway, bouncing and making a loud bang with each step it hit on its way down to the hardwood floor, where it rolled around for what felt like ten minutes. I just stood there watching it, hoping no one else had heard it. I got back in bed and ate my yogurt quietly. It still tasted terrible to me and I can only imagine what it would have been like for you.
Great going taking down your Facebook page, fucker. I told everybody I was pregnant and you missed it. Well, surprise. I just found out two days ago. I think I’m like 5 or 6 months- it’s hard to tell. I heard you work at Best Buy now. Hook me up! I’m still pissed at you for not giving me that loan, but I’m trying to let it go so you can help me with this shit like a real friend. I feel like you’re always pregnant. Did you and Ramon really mean to have four kids? You always say yes, but anyways, question- What is your favorite drink for when you’re pregnant? Right now all I’m liking is vodka cranberries. Seriously- I drank half a mimosa the other day and then puked it. I don’t know what’s up with me. Oh I remember what I wanted to ask you- How long do you have to wait before the doctor can change the baby’s sex? My sister says mine’s a boy for sure and she’s pissed. She doesn’t want to be an uncle. I really hope you can help me out with being pregnant. I don’t have anyone else. I mean I have my family and I have Derrick, but I don’t want them. I want you to be here. I need groceries and a new blue ray. When can you come? Oh- and where do I get that wheelchair sticker for the car?
I already know my parents do it.
I was supposed to be home at eight last night, but I got back early because James’s mom was too tired to cook. She got us a bucket of crispy chicken instead and we ate it way faster than regular food. She dropped me off at like 7:30. Anyway, I said “hey” when I walked in the door, but nobody answered, so I went upstairs and that’s when I heard ‘em. I thought it would be cool to watch. It wasn’t.
The worst part is, my mom saw me. She didn’t say anything last night, but this morning after my dad got up from breakfast to go poop, mom said “hey Donny you know you can ask me anything right?”
And I was like “Aww, man.”
And she was like “I mean it Donny. Anything. Your dad too.”
And I was just thinking please stop talking, please stop talking, but she just had to keep talking. She said, “you know, like all your sex questions.”
Then dad shouted from the bathroom “hey what are you guys talking about?”
I yelled “nothing,” but then mom yelled, “Donny has questions about sex!”
Then it got quiet and dad said “Cheryl do we really have to do this now? I mean the boy’s only nine.”
So I said “I’m ten.”
And he said “okay so what do you want to know?” and then he flushed the toilet.
I said “nothing,” and then mom said, “honey, Donny was watching us make love last night.”
So anyway, that’s why I’m here. So I don’t get traumatized. The thing is, I don’t feel bad. I could barely see anything, that’s why I was at the door for so long. And I really don’t have any sex questions. I mean, not for them. What they were doing didn’t look anything like the porn I watch at James’s house. We figured out the code to unlock all the good channels. I have questions for some of those people.
There’s a lot of weird shit out there. You know?
I have lived in L.A. for most of my life and last week was the first time I had ever been to Venice Beach at night. It was delightful. Below is a list of things you might hear if you are listening from the second story window of a cheap hotel on Venice Beach at night:
- “It’s not my pee.”
- “You’re fuckin’ dead, man! Don’t forget your bag.”
- “Yesterday this year or yesterday last year?”
- “It has a blanket on it but it’s still my duffel bag.”
- “Not after nine. No. I don’t do ‘after nine’.”
- “This is my office.”
- “Shit. He’s in my sleeping bag again.”
- “You want all my money? No.”
- “I can’t eat a paper shredder!”
- “There is so much clean food in this trash can!”
- “Eew. A lingerie party for old people? When?”
- “I’m sick of sand.”
- “I hope I wake up tomorrow.”
Yeah. I hope I wake up tomorrow too.
At 9 o’clock this morning I woke up in a panic. Daniel was going to kill me. I had been unfaithful. Last night I had sex with Barack. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. I was trying to convince him that my boyfriend and I were really good artists and we just needed a little exposure. I thought a good word from Obama could help us. Spooning on top of his red silk sheets with gold fringe, I felt like he really understood me. But what if he hadn’t? What if it had all been for nothing? I wondered if Daniel would understand that I had done this for us — so that we could get ahead in the world. I doubted it.
As I rolled over and saw Daniel laying in bed next to me, my panic turned into confusion. I did not remember how I had gotten home. How had I managed to make it to my bed in Mexico City before morning? Had Barack given me a turbo speed lift on Air Force One and I had forgotten? I guessed that was entirely possible. Barack was after all a gentleman. My eyes, just beginning to see through their morning haze, landed on Daniel’s smiling face. I cautiously half smiled back at him, thinking his smile might be fake and he was waiting for a good moment to kill me. After a few minutes my fear dwindled. I decided that his pleasant mood was genuine. Daniel did not know and I, the adulteress, was overwhelmed by guilt. I could still smell Obama on my skin.
I was ready to tell Daniel everything when a little thought formed in my mind and began to nag at me. I couldn’t understand how Daniel had not noticed my being gone all night. Being that I work at home and we never go out at night unless we are together, he should have been really bothered by my absence. What a shitty boyfriend! What kind of a man doesn’t notice when his woman is gone all night? Maybe he doesn’t even care. I decided to tell him nothing. If he had wanted to know where I had been, he would have asked.
After spending all day being pissed at Daniel, I have decided to forgive him. I figure we are even. What happened between Barack and I will stay between us. It was a one time thing and I think we both feel that there is no need to make a big deal out of it. I have faith in Barack. I believe he will do everything in his power to help further my career as an artist. But just in case he fails, I have decided not to quit my job.