So despite the fact that my desperate over sharing is perceived to be the summation of my life, believe it or not, there are things I don’t share with you guys. Here is one of the things going on in my life that I have been silent about. Until now.
As you all know by now, at the end of November I had a minor surgery. I had to rely on the kindness of strangers (AKA the nicest lady in the world) to put me AND BANJO! up in her gorgeous home, get up at the butt crack of dawn and drive me to the hospital, put up with my nasty disposition and monitor me for 24 hours afterwards. And by “stranger” mean one of y’all. I actually had a few offers but only one that would be the best choice for Banjo. Contrary to what you might have heard elsewhere, my family loves me. And I love them. It’s very difficult to board Banjo because he’s not as friendly as he looks and for a variety of reasons that I will not disclose, staying with a relative was not possible. So I was most fortunate to be offered another option. Bless her heart, it was not easy for her. I promise. And yet, she still speaks to me.
So being the hermit that I am, despite the MUCH nicer accommodations and the extreme kindness, I was ready to get the hell home to my um, “safe space.” My hostess was trying to get me to stick around if you can believe it.
So I was home for like a day, maybe two and some dude is knocking on my door. That is such a bad idea. I’ve put up signs on my door before that basically said, “FUCK OFF!” I am, um, so not a people person anymore. I was once, and it didn’t go well. So I use my security to see wko it is and it’s a really cute guy with long braids who is going to a sort of posh van. I think maybe it is a delivery so as he is walking away I open the door to get my package.
Only he is not delivering anything. He is a scouting agent for a movie who wants to film at the ghetto shack. As it turns out, I, Tonya, the movie about Tonya Harding filmed in my neighborhood for three days over the past two weeks.
At the time the scout arrived I was VERY much GET THE FUCK OFF MY LAWN, NO YOU ARE NOT FILMING ANYTHING AT MY GODDAMN HOUSE WHY ARE YOU HERE? Because, me. And because I just had surgery, lots of shit hurt and I had a drain in my belly that would stay there for two weeks, and a bunch of people who loved and worshiped me and filled my email box (and one that loved to hit my donate button) had somehow decided I was the devil in the two days I was offline.
I mean can y’all imagine? I had not even determined why exactly I was such a horrible person yet. I was on pain killers and some poor soul comes only to offer an opportunity and I was all Jed Clampett with a shotgun. And still, the poor guy said, “If you change your mind, I left my contact and information on the door.”
I did sort of apologize to the guy. But I was not interested and explained it was not a good time.
Then I spoke to my most trusted adviser who suggested that I rethink my position and TAKE THE MONEY. So over the holiday break I sent an email offering up “my ghetto house if you still need one.” And then I spent much of the holidays terrified they would take me up on it. In the end, they choose a house a lot like mine on a very nearby street. It’s just like my shithole except it has a porch full of shit and a backyard full of crap. Apologies to my neighbor. They may have staged it.
So for two weeks we had movie crews swarming the neighborhood. Because my street is a thoroughfare and the crew set up was in a parking lot on my street, vans have gone back and forth for weeks.
I was reminded to tell you this story because at one point, I was on a short car ride with Banjo and decided to drive by on the main filming day. As it turns out that was not possible. Apparently, they were having an outside filming. So the cops were stopping us before a four way stop. I figured I’d go to the stop sign and hang a left but that was not possible. The cops were frantic, and whispery. So when the cop got to the car (on foot) he leaned in to whisper basically “get the fuck out of here” Banjo went APE SHIT because he was in his mind threatening me. He tried to kill the cop from the backseat. I was sure he would bust out a window and get shot. I am also sure that if it was an outside scene they probably had to reshoot the whole thing.
A few days later, my carbon monoxide detector went off. As it turns out, after seven years, my model goes off to let you know to buy a new one. Um, perhaps there should be a special signal for that? The display said “FIND FRESH AIR!” So I grabbed the dog, my jewelry, the phone and a beer and stood outside to wait. I also warned a fireman (FIREMEN!!! I SHOULD HAVE CLEANED THE HOUSE AND PUT ON MAKEUP!) that Banjo was not always a friendly dog. So the one I told was visibly nervous around him. But Banjo was a good boy. Just don’t approach me if he doesn’t know you.
And that is how I lost 3K for filming. The house itself was only in the scenes for three days but the crew was in the hood for two weeks.
As Paul Harvey would say… And that is the rest of the story.
P.S. The reason I sort of reconsidered is that my mother WAS ON TONYA HARDING’S SIDE during the whole situation. Who the hell is a Tonya Harding fan???? My mother. That’s who. I mean I loved her a lot and miss her every day, but WTF? Clearly, I am truly an evil seed. 🙂 I have mentioned here in the past that my mother was quite upset I was not married and would send money and blame it on my father. My other thrice divorced sister got money too. Not a lot, just letters with some cash and a letter telling us that we needed to be married. After mother died, my dead (now) sister and I would often chat and discuss that our bank accounts were a bit more than we thought they should be. But the statements never showed any deposits we did not make. I know it sounds crazy, because IT IS CRAZY, but we would talk about having “mother money.” So when I thought about it, I was convinced that mother was sending me mother money. Sorry mom. I didn’t get it at the time. But I’m just fine. Financially at least.