My First Five Husbands..And the Ones Who Got Away
By Rue Mcclanahan
YOU SIT ALL PUFFED UP WITH THAT STUPID SMILE ON YOUR FACE AS IF YOU OWNED THE WORLD, YOU SELFISH BITCH
Breathy blonde starlet. A gilded lily. Young wild and alive. Groomed to perfection for even the humblest outing.
Coke, cock and cocktails. In no particular...in that order.
L is for "lovely" and "loved".
The stomp of stilettos. She clattered in, air-kissed everyone in the room and plopped herself into a chair with a theatrical sigh. Cocky with drug-induced bravado.
"Manipulative, sexually predatory and devious....always with charm and a wicked sense of humor." Very typically, flushed, sparkling-eyed and positively fizzy with anticipation. Maneater, positively oozing sexual availability.
SUPREME EFFORT OF WILL
I survey my surroundings with a haughty stare, eyes flashing lust. Always primped, patted and painted to perfection. Beauty is a tortuous but worthwhile process of preperation. I never "walk". Flounce or saunter, sometimes in varying degrees of intoxication from drink or drugs. Arch my back playfully.
Hair: blonde fluffball, candy-floss confection
Loves Servuga caviar and niney percent proof Russian Vodka. (Otherwise it better be Patron)
Grittily modern, engagingly frank. A former vegan and card-carrying PETA member, I now enjoy steaks that are, much like I, very rare. Live and love in high heels. I like making my 5'5 into 5'9. I dislike people who are over-powering, nouvea-riche and/or pretentious.
I have delusions of greatness and aspire to instant recognition and constant applause. Accepting of adulation.
Mostly effusive acquaintainships that pass for friendships.
As for my most genuine and long term realationship, it was a classic case of a star is born for me and the end of a shelf-life for him. (Joan Collins's word; not mine)
Some nights I have to reach for the ambien. With a sigh of resignation, I swallow it, drain the cabarnet sauvignon and wait for oblivion.
A more wordly interpretation of the fiesty southern belle. Can out Scarlett Ms. O'hara herself. And, like Scarlett O'Hara, I find myself putting things aside to worry about tomorrow.
Physically, I imagine myself as glowering as the images still etched into my mind of my mother. Always deeply tanned with scarcely a wrinkle because she treated her face as rare porcelain. Everything about her gleamed. Sartorial perfection.
I saw you there in the flesh and I thought, "Earth had not anything to show more fair".
"What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't grieve over."
"whatever went on between the pink satin sheets of her bed satisfied her completely."
This is part of a feverish, fluid, low-substance sort of profile description I'm adding to what I already have on myspace. I've had that one for a while now. This was heavily inspired by the book I just finished by Joan Collins "Too Damn Famous". I've been reading much more substance, I promise and will tell but I spent the last night of house-sitting at Ran's mom's (Sat. night) wide awake in a very inspired and ready to be inspired state. She has all sorts of these. There's a Rue McLanahan auto-memoirgraphic (made that up myself) that I'm deep into. I finished the novel by JC all in one night and it wasn't half bad. I turn books into journals. Constantly underlining things I like or relate to, or words I want to add to my arsenal and noting off to the side my comments, etc. I have so much to give inspirationally as far as the nymphette demographic goes but I seem to be either OUT on the town or OUT of the Vicodin that helps along my writing and designing. I'll be around. There is so much to tell. This is just a tidbit to let you know I'm on the rise. SO MUCH to tell. Many things to allow you to live vicariously through me. Others that will touch you on a not so positive level. But all full of soul, sarcasm and my endless effervescence. By the time you read this, I'll probably have posted said memoirs but if not, "see" you soon.
Stay beautiful, kisses + kisses,