In preparation for my next memoir Slackers, I’ve forced myself to spend time with a pathetic soul that I had once known on an intimate level. ME. The 23, 24, and 25 year old ME. It’s all about ME. Thankfully, the man I’d been then dating (The Crustacean) was, is, and always will be a hoarder. He graciously allowed me to borrow the letters I had sent him during our two year dating period. Initially, he had wanted swap letters, but his were “lost” (via scissors) soon after our last break-up…my attempt to remove, forget, and progress before a straight jacket fitting became necessary.

Last weekend, they arrived in water resistant packaging.

Three inches! Pretty Impressive!

He had even saved what I like to call Section II, Part C of his holiday gifts. For our first Christmas, I made paper dolls. In this picture his Halloween costume protects his identity.

Reading over my words, I suppressed my gag reflex. Who in Hell is this person? Her handwriting’s alike, well neater and way more legible, but obviously from the same hand. She does recycle paper, and overuses the word coffee, so she must be ME. But what she says…MY GOD!

“I miss you. I really miss you! I hate this. It shouldn’t have to be like this! And I fear that now we’re going to see each other less and drift apart….I just feel lonely without you here.”

Translation: I’m half a person. Without you, I’m only 1/4.

She was not a teenager. She (Lonna Cottrell) had already dated handfuls of other men and had a degree in Biology with visions of medical school. He lived a distance away, but we had managed to spend mostly every weekend together, and yet I STILL felt the need to fill him in on my minutely thoughts.  Some letters were postmarked 2 days apart.

As if the pink, purple, and red envelopes with upside down stamps weren’t enough, I had written I love you inside the flap so when The Crustacean opened them that would be the first thing he saw. Crazy.

I just want to slide my hands through a time warp and shake this chick.

After our first breakup I had written…

“You and I are worth one more try. Please don’t give up on me. I will stand by you through everything. I will do anything for you.”

Everything? Anything?

These naive words came from the same person who wanted to see Avatar until she found out it was a love story. I’ve spent the majority of the last decade sounding like Dr. Gregory House from House M.D. or Christina from Grey’s Anatomy. Have any of those characters ever uttered anything similar? No.

I would have dumped myself 3 times too.

That person (she) has long left the building, but reading over the past has rekindled a desire for romantic love. I’m not sure I believe in that sort of love, but I want to, I really want to. That’s progress. I miss the electricity, not the stupidity.

Yes, I no longer desire to be the Ice Queen. Only, the Dairy Queen. Hopefully someday, I’ll be able to meet myself in the middle. Optimistic, even-keeled, AND with a spine.

Filed under: My Torturous Thoughts
by Lonna
4 Comments »

My goal: to make this post about my recent near-death experience as non-cliche’ as possible, because all such scenarios are the same. In every single one, someone nearly dies, but doesn’t.

(Boring.)

Please forgive me for my methods.

December 31, 2009

Dear Ronnie Reaper (a.k.a Dan Death),

I apologize for leaving you stranded on New Year’s Eve. I hadn’t expected you so early.

It wouldn’t have worked out. We have nothing in common. I enjoy breathing. I like my heart beating, and blood running through my veins. Digestion even brings me joy. With you, I can do none of those things. In fact, you’ve led me to a conclusion. I’m in love with someone else. Myself. Thank you for reminding me.

The picture above was Route 55 at 7:20 AM covered in icy slush. Moments before our date, I had taken this with my phone, and planned to paste it on Facebook, so all of my friends could feel sorrow for me about my daily commute to Philly. Once again, I buried my mind with self-pity. Now, when I gaze over the photo, I will think of you.

For your memory, and with the help of my daughter, I’ve recreated our time together. An online scrapbook preserving our brief affair.

My last meal would have been a slice of Bologna and three cups of coffee.

I locked the door to the home I despised (only for its size), hopped into my car (represented by the blue convertible in the photo below), dropped my daughter off at her Aunts, and didn’t even walk her inside.

Imagine no salt, ice falling from the air, snow covering a highway packed with New Jersey drivers. My eyes closed for a microsecond and my car began to slide off the right side of the highway. My gut reaction was to turn the wheel in the opposite direction.

My Corolla spun, so I pulled the wheel the other way with no response. I had no control. None. I became merely a spectator.

My eyes met another car’s headlights probably a car length away. Previously, I had wondered what my last thought would be. Would I think of my daughter? Would I think of a past unrequited love (not to be named because I’m still alive)? Or would I just think, “OH S**T!!” and have adrenaline overwhelm me? No. You, Mr. Reaper, helped me answer that. I only thought, “Really?” as in “Today? Now? This is it? That was all?” Then, the car in front of me started to slide in an attempt to avoid the impending head-on collision. Neither of us needed a vehicular head-butt.

Inertia tugged at the rear of my vehicle and forced me into the median…and the accompanying ditch-like crevice. The other car miraculously corrected itself. No metal collided. Not a single human was harmed.

Ron, I hope there are no hard feelings. It’s really nothing personal. Give me a call and maybe we can get together and hang out, in 60 years…

after I’ve

had more sex

drank more

coffee

vodka

gin

and

vermouth

read Anna Karenina again

learned to pole dance

married Andy Samberg

sent the kid off to medical school

and

topped The New York Times Bestsellers List

Love,

Lonna

Well, not really…

but

ANOTHER BEGINNING

**no toys were hurt in the making of this**

Filed under: My Torturous Thoughts
by Lonna
4 Comments »

(Although her daughter participated in this epic event, the author insists that this review remains unbiased.) An Accompany Publishing Musical Play adapted from “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens (to clear up any confusion). The date, Dec. 16th. The place, a school auditorium in the middle-of-nowhere’sville. Presented by the 4th and 5th grade chorus.

Before delving in, I would like to put out a suggestion to all in charge of such elementary school functions. Prior to the beginning of a show, advise the audience to “please silence all cell phones and babies.” The amount of infant screaming affected my ability to hear the actors and robbed me from some of my enjoyment. It may also be nice to enforce all people with abnormally large heads to sit behind those with smaller heads. Because of my seating arrangements, picture taking was rendered impossible.

The plot centers around Scrooge and Marley’s City Gym. Scrooge wants to sell the gym and replace it with the unforgivable–a candy store! This was followed by ghosts’ visits from various time periods in the history of the world. A herd of cheerleaders represented those from the future.

The set design was impeccable. The backdrop resembled Van Gogh’s Bedroom in Arles except with barbels and treadmills. Cardboard candy canes lined the perimeter. I was concerned about the carrying-capacity of the stage with 296 chorus members packed like husbands at the mall on Christmas Eve. How much weight would the stage actually hold, and could those children inhale and exhale in such an arrangement?

The acting was predominately believable, but at times I was under the impression that a few were reading lines from the backs of their hands. And the ad-lib that  Marley’s Ghost committed was difficult to understand. I think he was mumbling, “Blah, blah, blah, ARGHHHHHHHHHH!!! Blah, blah, blah, ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

With hits such as “Doing Something Smart,” “The Taste of the Sweet,” “Pumping More With Each Beat,” “Portion Control,” and “Twelve Days of Fitness,” how could one deny the show’s brilliance.

On the first day of fitness, my trainer made me do, one yoga tree pose.

Nevertheless, the violence was disturbing. After Scrooge shredded the contract belonging to the Evil Candy Moguls (two adorably SWEET young ladies), the girls beat him to a pulp with the paper. Because Scrooge resembled Tiger Woods, I suspected that this was an attempt to attract the Elin supporters, but an insider insisted that this was part of the script before the golf philanderer’s hobby hit the headlines.

The back-flipping aerobics instructor was impressive, but did they really have to make the kids run endlessly around the auditorium? The fake muscles were also a tad too unrealistic.

During the performance, I had also worried about the musical’s message; that working out and staying fit are the only important things in life; that there is no merit to lounging in front of the tube playing video games; that being bored is bad; that candy is evil. But I was comforted at the end when all of children left the stage intubated with lollipops.

One chorus member stood out above the others. She was in the third row on the right side, had large moon-like eyes, a Blair Waldorf headband, and mouthed to the person next to her, “I’m trying to find my mom.” With a voice and a face such as hers, angels are undoubtedly jealous. This child’s mother must be one proud lady.

I was glad that I attended and can honestly say it was worth a George Washington. This year’s production was 100% more memorable than last years, which I don’t remember at all.

It may be to late to say Merry Christmas, but it’s never to late to say…

MERRY FITNESS EVERYONE!

Filed under: Familial Fragments
by Lonna
2 Comments »

I came across an Imaginary Boyfriend List yesterday that had spoken to me intimately. But since all of my boyfriends are imaginary, I thought I’d up the stakes. The difficulty in ranking them was excruciating. Especially slots 1 and 2.

*  *  *

1. Andy Samberg

Sorry Johnny, but Andy and I were bethrothed on Facebook (and ONLY on Facebook), so I have to put him as my #1.  Best known for the SNL musical hits such as Emmy Award Winning D*** In A Box and Grammy nominated I’m On A Boat.

*

2. Johnny Depp

I hate to use a picture twice, but with one so awesome, who can blame me?

*

3. Brian Williams

This man is SMOKIN’! Whether he’s wearing a purple tie, a striped tie, or khakis,  my heart rate elevates. Brian also spends the most time with me. We meet almost every night at 6:30.

*

4. Conan O’Brien

We started our faux affair way back in 1993 and have been going strong ever since. “In the year 3000,” we’ll reveal our relationship to the public.

Thanks NBC.

*

5. Peter Fonda

Yes, he’s older than my mother, but I do not care.

*

6. Michael Phelps

My sister has given me slack for liking him because of his ears, but I have only one word for her. Handles. I’ll give him another gold medal.

*

7. Henry Miller

The only dead man to make the list. I made myself choose between Miller and Andy Warhol, and because there’s already one Andy on the list, Miller’s #7.

*

8. Taylor Lautner

The werewolf from New Moon…pending his 18th birthday on Feb. 11th of course.

*

9. Augusten Burroughs

Author of best sellers Running With Scissors, Dry, and You Better Not Cry. Becoming my husband would require him hopping over the fence, but this is my fantasy. And the man has seen Orville Redenbacher’s penis.

*

10. Ernie

He’s sweet, orange, fun-spirited, loves rubber duckies, and has an irresistable laugh. We share the same birthday. I also have a thing for stripes.

Others who were highly considered, but did not make the final list: Andy Warhol, Morrissey, Prince Harry, Christian Bale, David Bowie, Seth Meyers, Lord Byron, Dennis Hopper, Jeff Hardy, assorted Chucks, Joe Jonas, Nick Jonas, Naveen Andrews, Robert Pattinson, John Lennon, Lenin, Mrs. Butterworth, Tucker Max, and Napoleon

Filed under: Celebrity Blah - My Torturous Thoughts
by Lonna
3 Comments »