BBP: Days 12 & 13: Less Wackness to My Thinking?

I've definitely noticed a subtle change in my thinking that is producing a marked change in my behavior: When I have a situation that I don't like dealing with, particularly one with an imposing/frightening institution or situation that I would prefer to avoid or delay, now I am far more likely to simply do it. Example: Writing an email to Maggie's friend Jay, a famously intimidating NYC mega-landlord, to mention that I'd love to become one of his tenants. Usually I'd put that off, because I hate asking favors, bothering busy people, and the requisite coating of flattery and bullshit you have to wrap that request in. But on Monday, I just did it. Also I called a company to whom I had paid a debt, and got on their asses about sending me proof of payment, so I can go to the credit bureaus with that proof.

In addition, I have spoken with my friend Andy (he who promised to read my script), and we are tentatively talking about lunch--he's being more cagey than usual, though. Does he somehow know that I'm finally going to take him up on that script offer? The film he wrote won a woman a Best-Actress Oscar, so you know a LOT of people have asked favors in the last few years. . .but he did offer to read it, twice. And I didn't show it to him because I didn't want to be a pain in the ass, and, let's face it, because I was scared.

I have also decided to go look at apartments in Inwood, just to see if I can tolerate living there. It might be very nice--there seem to be parks and nicely maintained old buildings! Who knows? I had a friend who lived up on 192nd Street, and her place was in a dodgy building--but what shocked me most was the linoleum floors throughout the place. She'd covered them with rugs, of course, but still felt a deep deep shame and repulsion. . .as did I. I have done many drunken shameful things in my time (there are a few house parties in England that I wish I'd blacked out), but I have never, never, yet allowed linoleum out of the kitchen.

OK. My brave things for the end of the week involve:

-Going to see these Apartments in Inwood. Not letting time go by without researching it.

-Editing this piece that I'm sending to the "Self Expressions" column at Self Magazine.

-Sending the pitch and essay in.

-Sending Pitch to Marie Claire about Jackie, the only woman currently under treatment for breast cancer who will be doing the Tour de Pink next month. If MC no longer has their "First Person" column, try to angle it to Women's Health. Or Health magazine--or think about Self for that one, too. (Self pays well and has a larger subscription base than Marie Claire.)

-Go to library and read back copies of these magazines.

In the last two days have seen two films: Swing Vote, with Kevin Costner: I didn't really want to see it at all, but it was for a free SAG screening at the DGA on 57th Street, so I trundled along with my glamorous friend Kendall, she of the Jennifer Aniston hair. It actually was an amusing, diverting comedy--particularly when you got past the slapstick moments. There is a brutally funny commercial in which the Democratic candidate (played by Dennis Hopper, who is one facelift away from being bollock-chinned) reverses his stand on abortion: As he walks through a playground talking about children and lollipops and America, the children suddenly disappear in puffs of smoke, leaving us with a child-free land.

Pretty brutal, pretty funny--of course, no mention of the fact that if abortion were to be made illegal, that wealthy people would simply go/send their kids to Europe for the operation, while poor people would have to simply have the kids, thereby deepening the already terrifying rich/poor gap in this country and providing more soldiers for the next generation of war. But the film was good, and actually smart. Also saw The Wackness at Lincoln Plaza last night--absolutely wonderful film, dark and funny and a fucking brilliant performance by Ben Kingsley (whose American accent is better than most, but not dead on). However, he character is so funny and contradictory and sad; a crappy shrink who occasionally says something quite relevant--a film about the desperation of men and the anger of women, and how honesty and a little bravery can bring you up above it. Really wonderful.