August Happiness Challenge -- Day 3

My 2024 Happiness Icon

Today's happiness: Elizabeth Taylor

It was bound to happen: My happiness icon is a direct representation of today's happiness. I love classic film, and LaLiz is one of my all-time favorite classic film goddesses.

First I watched Elizabeth Taylor: The Lost Tapes, the new documentary about her life built around taped interviews. So it's as though she's telling us her life story. In addition to hearing her story in her own voice, there are home movies of her in the pool, no makeup. The woman was ridiculously beautiful.

Next up was Jane Eyre, the classic for this week's movie meet-up. She was just 11 when she played doomed little Helen. Naturally talented and an underrated actress, even then.

I'd been kinda blue today. So I'm grateful to the glamorous Liz for getting me out of my own head for a while.

Happy August Happiness Challenge!

 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

It's the same old battle for me

Melanie vs. Scarlett. I want to be like Melanie Wilkes in Gone with the Wind. She was completely non-judgemental. She saw the best in everyone. She put others first and worked hard to make everyone around her happy and comfortable. To me, she is the embodiment of a woman who lives her Christian faith. But alas, too often my inner Scarlett makes an appearance. Willful, sharp-tongued, self-centered. 

Right now, when it comes to my oldest friend, Scarlett is winning.

About 10 days ago, I sent her this card. I know she's been struggling with health issues and emotional issues and now, even legal issues. Her landlady is trying to evict her. Inside, I wrote that I wanted her to know that whenever she's freaking out, to remember that I freak out, too. I thought she'd feel less isolated.

The words "Normalize Freaking Out" can be peeled off as a sticker

I have no idea how she feels about it. She never acknowledged it.

Then last Sunday morning I went to the ER. I had a severe reaction to a bug bite. I missed my oldest friend so much! First of all, I've known her since Kindergarten. Literally more than 60 years! I was scared and I longed for that continuity. Also, she took pre-med courses in college and worked in physicians' offices, so she speaks fluent doctor. I texted her first while I was waiting to be seen by the doctor. Then again as I was leaving because I thought, silly me, that she might be worried about me.

Yeah, right.

It took her five (5) hours to respond. By text. She predicted the welt would bust open like a zit. I explained that would never happen, that the NP said that the welt would just slowly shrink and go away. She told me to hang tight, that she would call me Monday.

Today is Saturday. She still hasn't called.

She did, however, send me a photo of Robert -- the man she met online, dated once and was told they could be friends but nothing more -- and his daughter headed on a vacation to Boston. She is in love with Robert and he's never going to love her and the whole thing is so sad. Why she thinks I care about the vacation plans of Robert and his daughter is beyond me.

She's been busy on her Tumblr page, posting cat photos and links to pornographic fan fiction stories about (wait for it) Paul McCartney and John Lennon as young men fucking. Complete with lube and dog collars. Under other circumstances, I would find this very funny. After all, for decades she insisted that Barry Manilow was not only straight but a Lothario who left a legion of lady loves weak in the knees. She would get angry at me when I'd tease that she was the only one on the planet who thought he was hetero. In my oldest friend's worldview, The Beatles are gay and the man who sang "Copacabana" in a ruffled shirt was straight. Okeedokee.

But here's the thing: My oldest friend has always been a prude and a bit of a homophobe. Now all of a sudden she gets off on sub-dom gay porn? I'm afraid this means her mental state is devolving, especially when placed in context of recent events.

•  In June, she emailed me that her phone was lost, then found 10 miles away. She said she was on her way to pick it up. That made me happy. My friend has serious health problems and shouldn't be without her phone. Next day she reported the phone had been in her bathroom all along. I replied, "So your bathroom is 10 miles away?" She ignored me.

•  In July, she cancelled the trip to Chicago she had been planning. No big deal, I suppose. Except she waited so long to change her mind that I'm out $170 for the hotel and a week's pay at the card shop (I put in for time off and it was too late for me to change it).

Most of all, I'm mad. I'm mad that she can't be bothered to acknowledge my card or check on my well being because smut about Paul taking it up the ass from John* is more important.

I'm mad that she she got herself into this mess. This move to from Chicagoland to Southern California, which she made by choice, has been a disaster. She's broke. She's isolated. She has allowed herself to self-destruct. How could someone I love so much value herself so cheaply?

All that she could help. Then there's the stuff she can't help. She has kidney trouble, mobility issues, diabetes and a bad heart, and suffers from depression. When I remember that, I get mad at myself for being mad.

Melanie Wilkes wouldn't be mad. Melanie Wilkes would pick up the phone and call her.

I think some of my anger is borne of mourning Henry and John. I am helpless to protect people I love and that's painful and frustrating.

But most of it is that I am furious at her clinging tight to any flotsam and jetsam that floats by (her cousin Sharon, Robert, her online Beatle fan fiction community) and throwing the good bits (me) away.

That's pure Scarlett, isn't it? I can't help it. Right now, I'm not sure I want to.

 

 

*I oversimplify. In some of the stories, John takes it up the ass from Paul. Why a 67-year-old heterosexual woman would suddenly enjoy this is beyond me. If a man were stimulated by these stories, I'd understand. But I never have sex fantasies that don't star me. Maybe that's the Scarlett in me, too.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Ghostbusters (1984)

Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here.

1) Number 1 on the charts in August 40 years ago, "Ghostbusters" was written quickly. The Ghostbusters producers originally approached Lindsay Buckingham to write the movie theme. Buckingham took a long time to say no, and the film's production date could not be changed. That left Ray Parker Jr. only a few days to come up with a song. Do you work well with a tight deadline? Yes. I was in advertising for 43 years. Tight deadlines and strict budgets were the guardrails to creativity.

2) Parker recalls he got his inspiration from a late night TV commercial that kept encouraging viewers to call, call, call. What's the most recent business that you phoned, and why were you calling? Well, the plumbing company called me, not the other way around. They encountered an emergency and had to reschedule replacing the J-bend and p-trap under my sink.

3) The music video (linked above) was directed by Ivan Reitman, who also directed the movie. It features a variety of celebs saying "Ghostbusters!" None of them were paid for this, they all did it as a favor to Reitman. Have you more recently done or received a favor? I don't know if this counts as a favor, technically, but my blogging buddy Snarkypants sent me a greeting card in a pretty blue envelope to lift my spirits. It was much appreciated.

4) In 2009, Ray Parker Jr. made the Ghostbusters theme available as a ring tone. What's your phone's ring tone? The generic Motorola ringtone. I never bothered to change it. When my phone (in my purse) rang during a recent dental appointment, my dentist thought it was his phone. He has a Motorola phone, too, and never bothered to change the ringtone, either.

5) This song is so enduringly popular that a 2020 documentary about Parker is titled, "Who You Gonna Call?" If you were to write a memoir or authorize a documentary about your life, what would you call it? "The Thing of It Is ..." I say that a lot.

6) Early in his career, Ray was in demand as a session musician. He played guitar on the records of some of the 70s most successful female singers, including Tina Turner, Chaka Khan, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight and Diana Ross. Of those ladies, which is your favorite? It has to be Miss Ross. Ooooh, yeah! This is my favorite from my favorite.

 

Let's look at the summer of 1984.

7) Released in June, the original Ghostbusters was a huge hit throughout the summer. Have you seen it? Did you see the sequel that was released this past spring? I love Chicago's own Bill Murray, so I've seen it a time or two. (Favorite line: "Human sacrifice! Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!") I've seen parts of Ghostbusters II on cable but none of the subsequent films in the series.

8) Beverly Burns became the first female captain of a Boeing 747. She was a pilot for People Express Airways, an airline which later merged with Continental, and Continental then merged with United. Do you recall which airline you flew when you took your first flight? TWA. ORD to FLL.

9) Ronald Reagan joked about bombing Russia during a mic check for a radio interview. He was embarrassed when the comment was leaked and broadcast around the world. Have you recently felt embarrassed? Oh, sure! I'm always messing up.

August Happiness Challenge: Day 2

2024 Happiness Icon

 

Today's happiness: Getting Out

I got up early this morning and waited for a plumber who didn't come. (See post below.) I understand that shit happens and acknowledge that if my job were an emergency that compromised safety or sanitation, I'd want it to be a priority. So I'm trying to be a good sport about what happened. Which is not to say I liked it or that it wasn't unsettling. 

So what to do? I grabbed my headphones and got out. I listened to Pat Hughes call the Cubs game as I walked to the bank and to Target. Being outside in the sun was good for me. The score (6-3 over the Cardinals) and the Kit-Kat bar I grabbed on the way home helped, too. Suddenly I was content again.

Happy August Happiness Challenge!

 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

My Dream Man

The pipes under my kitchen sink are leaking. I need my J-bend and P-trap replaced. My handyman says it's not the kind of job he's comfortable doing, and referred me to a plumber. The plumber was going to do it today but had to reschedule because of an emergency call. So now I'm going another week with Flex Tape on my pipes and a bucket under the sink, just in case. I feel like a teenager in a dorm, not a grown-ass woman with an AARP card and a mortgage.

And so I'm dreaming of Fred Mertz.The Riccardo's landlord was always available. He could fix plumbing and wiring and doorbells and windows and even helped Lucy out when she asked him to even out the legs on her sofa.

via GIPHY

If you happen to see Fred Mertz, tell him I love him. 

 

August Happiness Challenge: Day 1

2024 Happiness Icon

 

Today's happiness: An Act of Kindness

 

I started Day 1 with a smile because Nicole, the receptionist at my local yoga studio, texted me. I've missed class two weeks in a row -- a rarity for me -- and she asked if I'm OK. 

 

I can be cynical about these things and wondered if perhaps the studio wasn't worried that I had taken my mat elsewhere. But no. First of all, I don't pay for my classes; my monthly membership is a benefit of my Medicare supplement plan and they get their money automatically from the insurance company. Second, I doubt Nicole has access to that information or even cares about it. She's the one who checks us in before class, makes sure we have scented towels for the end of the class, and washes the towels and checks the restrooms between classes. 

She simply likes me and was concerned about me. Which makes me happy!

 

Happy August Happiness Challenge!

 

Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world.

 

Thursday Thirteen #370

Thirteen August Happiness Icons. Every year I participate in the August Happiness Challenge. The idea behind the challenge is simple but powerful: "Each day in August, post something that makes *you* happy. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities and our world." 

You're invited to join me. Visit my daily August Challenge post with a link to your daily August happy and I'll come read it. It helps to add a happiness icon to your August Challenge posts. Here are ones I've used over the years. And yes, scrolling through them makes me happy.

 

1.

2.

 3.

4.

 

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

via GIPHY

10.

11.

12.

13.

                                  This year's is a nod to my love of classic movies.

Here's to 31 days of happiness!

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

 

WWW.WEDNESDAY

 

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? Once Upon a Time by Elizabeth Beller. Twenty five years after her death, Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy gets her own biography. Beller's premise is that Carolyn didn't get a fair shake from the press in her lifetime, and that we've evolved as a country to the point that we may be able to understand her better.

In real time, the press portrayed her as a bitch. A demanding ice goddess who harshed the buzz we all got from America's prince. There's even a school of thought that Carolyn was responsible for her own death, as well as the deaths of her husband and sister. They took off late that July afternoon and missed the daylight John needed for a safe flight because she was (wait for it) having her pedi done and redone.

This book is decidedly pro-Carolyn, something the author doesn't deny. As I read this, I can't help thinking of Meghan Markle and Linda McCartney. We can be hard on women who don't conform with our ideal of who should marry our favorite men.

2. What did you recently finish reading? Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death by M.C. Beaton. Locals come from miles around to fill their flasks with the mineral water that flows from a natural spring. A corporation takes note and makes plans to bottle and sell the water. Because she's not only a local but a PR wiz, they hire Agatha Raisin to help them with the new product launch. This is important because not everyone in Ancombe is enthusiastic about the project. In fact, some who opposed it ends up dead.

 

I liked this edition of the series because I guessed the killer straight away. While I felt brilliant, I must confess that I didn't base my conclusion on evidence. I just didn't like that character. But still, a good time was had by all.

3. What will you read next? Don't know.

 

Teaser Tuesday

Here's how to play.

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death by MC Beaton. My girl Agatha kinda has the blues. She's a little bored in retirement and her next door neighbor/former fiancee James is pointedly ignoring her. As she has a lonely breakfast of black coffee and cigarettes, she bargains with God. If only James would notice her again, she'd do anything. Even give up the smoking James loathed.

The doorbell rang. Perhaps He had heard her prayer. She stubbed out her cigarette.

"Last one," she said loudly to the ceiling.

She opened the front door. Mrs. Darry was standing there.

"I wondered if you could do me a favor, Mrs. Raisin."

"Come in," said Agatha bleakly. She led the way to the kitchen, sat down, and gloomily lit another cigarette.

Mrs. Darry sat down. "I would be grateful if you refrained from smoking."

"Tough," said Agatha. "This is my house and my cigarette. What do you want?"

"Don't you know you are killing myself?"

Agatha looked at her cigarette and then at Mrs. Darry. "As long as I am killing myself I'm not killing you. Out with it. What do you want?"

Except for the fact that I hate smoking, Agatha is my id.

 

An interesting way to start the day

I got up at about 8:00 AM. I decided to ease myself into the day by answering Bev's Sunday Stealing questions. I didn't get very far. I lazily stretched and touched the back of my neck and ... uh-oh. A big, hard welt was under my fingers. Using my hand mirror, I checked it out in the bathroom mirror.

OH. MY. GOD! The welt was flame red. The welt was not only not red yesterday, it wasn't even there. It grew like this overnight. 

Last Monday or Tuesday, I noticed a little something back there. Like a tiny scab. I'd gotten a haircut Saturday and thought maybe my stylist nicked me with the scissors. When it didn't go away, I started rubbing OTC hydrocortisone cream on it. And didn't give it any thought until this morning, when it had suddenly grown into a big, hard, red welt.

My body chemistry is a little weird. I'm very allergic to bee sting and carry an epipen with me at all times. When visiting Dallas decades ago, I got bit by an ant and my foot swelled, but it happened almost instantly. The lag time this time bothered me. I never felt a bug bite or sting me. Why is my body reacting at least 5 days after the fact?

Also, the back of my neck is near my spine and my brain. If for some reason blood poisoning is coursing through my system, I don't like the proximity.

So I tried to calm down. I took a shower. I fed the cats. I put extra food and extra water down, just in case I was going to be away for a while. Then I went to the ER.

I hear horror stories all the time about Emergency Rooms, how they're full of moaning and sick people, how long the wait times are. But that is not at all what I experienced. I got there at 10:00 and by 11:30, I was off to Walgreen's, prescription in hand. 

As I suspected, it's an allergic reaction to a bug bite of some kind. The welt is my body's way of "circling the wagons" to contain the poison in one area. Since I didn't have a fever and my lymph nodes felt normal, the NP was confident that the allergic reaction had remained local. But she said I was wise to come in when I did. There is no guarantee that it wouldn't spread. She prescribed a corticosteroid and heat treatments.

I got home, applied the cream, ate a little leftover pizza, and fell asleep. For four hours. Being scared is exhausting!

I'm pissed that my Sunday is gone, but I'm also grateful. 

•  I live in a neighborhood where quality healthcare is minutes away.

•  For Medicare and my Medicare supplement plan. No one talked to me about money at the hospital, and the prescription cream cost me $2. 

•  My friend John's example. He never went to the doctor until he was absolutely forced to. He was afraid of what he would hear. He died in April, and I will never believe this outcome couldn't have been avoided or forestalled. I'm not saying God took him as an example, because I'm sure God doesn't work that way. But I do believe I'm meant to learn from and avoid John's suffering.

•  I'm likely going to be OK. If this redness and swelling haven't lessened by Wednesday, I'm supposed to contact my dermatologist. That doesn't sound too scary, does it?

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Nevertheless (I'm in Love with You) 1969

Unfamiliar with this week's song? Hear it here.

1) In this song, Liza Minnelli acknowledges that she may be "taking a terrible chance." Have you done anything risky lately? Nothing comes to mind.

2) In 1969, when Liza recorded this song, she was 23 and her career was really beginning to take off. She was a sought-after guest on TV talk and variety shows and received her first Oscar nomination. Give us a quick overview of your life at 23. My life changed so much that year, it depends on which month. In November, when I turned 23, I was a rather sullen secretary at Sears, Roebuck and Co. at Sears Tower. I loved working in the city and in that iconic building, but I was always broke and had little respect for the man I worked for. In June, I was promoted to catalog copywriter and my world changed. It was like that moment in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy opens the door and the world changes from black and white to color. By the following November, when I turned 24, I had a career instead of a job, I was making money and wearing new clothes, and I'd fallen in love.

3) Also in 1969, the first Gap store was opened in San Francisco. What have you recently added to your wardrobe? If yes, where did you buy it? I bought a pair of Nikes at DSW.

4) Liza says she always has apple juice in her refrigerator. What's something you're certain to have in your frig? Coke.

5) Liza's favorite card game is poker. What's yours? Canasta.

6) Though Liza recorded the song in 1969, "Nevertheless (I'm in Love with You)" was written way back in 1931. It has been recorded more than 50 times by artists as diverse as Bing Crosby, Andy Gibb and Bob Dylan. Before today, had you heard it? I prefer Sinatra's version to Liza's. It's more intimate and less performative. Francis always sounds like he's talking to me, whereas Liza sounds like she's aiming at the last row of the balcony.

7) "Nevertheless (I'm in Love with You)" is credited to Bert Kalmer and his partner, Harry Ruby. Another one of their hits was "Who's Sorry Now?" Do you owe anyone an apology? I don't think so. Though I owe my cousin a letter and my friend Elaine an email. Maybe I should apologize for being neglectful?

8) Together they also wrote "Hooray for Captain Spaulding," sung onscreen by Groucho Marx in the movie Animal Crackers. There were five Marx Brothers in all. How many can you name? Gummo, Zeppo, Groucho, Chico and Harpo.

9) Random question: Do you believe talking to plants helps them grow? Nope. But I'll be honest: I have no strong feelings either way.

Time for Joy 2024

Every year I take the August Happiness Challenge. Here's a brief explanation of the Challenge: "Each day in August you are to post about something that makes *you* happy. Pretty simple. And, it doesn't even have to be every day if you don't want it to be. It's a great way to remind ourselves that there are positive things going on in our lives, our communities, and the world."

You're invited to join me. Visit me with a link to your daily August happy, and I'll come read it. I've found that experiencing other peoples' everyday pleasures is a great mood lifter.

It helps if your August Happiness Challenge posts are marked with an icon. Just something that means "happy" to you. Here's a pair of my past happys.

THE HAPPY BEGINS AUGUST 1!

Thursday Thirteen #369

It was 30 years ago edition. I recently discovered Mad About You in reruns on the RewindTV cable channel. I'm enjoying it. I don't know why I didn't watch it when it originally aired -- maybe because I had a rather active social life back in the day. 

But anyway, the top shows of 1994 were iconic and influential. While Seinfeld and Roseanne still make me throw up in my mouth, there's no denying the enduring popularity of (most of) these shows.

Nielson's Top 13 of the 1994 season:

1. Seinfeld

2. ER

3. Home Improvement

4. Grace Under Fire (Brett Butler was so hot for a while, then she disappeared)

5. Monday Night Football

6. 60 Minutes (It's been on more than 50 years now)

7. NYPD Blue

8. Murder, She Wrote

tied with

8. Friends (still my favorite show)

9. Roseanne

10. Mad About You

11. Madman of the People (I have no memory of this show at all)

12. Ellen (the sitcom, not the daytime talk show)

13. Hope and Gloria (I don't recall this one, either)

Please join us for THURSDAY THIRTEEN. Click here to play along, and to see other interesting compilations of 13 things.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

 

 

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

PS I no longer participate in WWW.WEDNESDAY via that link because her blog won't accept Blogger comments. I mention this only to save you the frustration I experienced trying to link up.

1. What are you currently reading? Agatha Raisin and the Wellspring of Death by M.C. Beaton. Locals come from miles around to fill their flasks with the mineral water that flows from a natural spring. A corporation takes note and makes plans to bottle and sell the water. The community is divided about this decision -- will the money that flows in be worth the disruption of their peaceful village? Temperatures flare and suddenly, one of the major players gets dead. Guess who found the body? Our girl, Agatha. 

I've read so many heavy books lately that I'm really enjoying this cozy mystery so far.

2. What did you recently finish reading? The Hollywood Daughter by Kate Alcott. In 1945, young Jessica Malloy idolizes Ingrid Bergman. She has a closer connection to her favorite movie star than other fans, since her dad is Ingrid's publicist. Because of her father's connections, Bergman and Bing Crosby come to Jessica's convent school for a few days for on-location shooting on The Bells of St. Mary's. Between her portrayal of a nun in that film and then in the title role of Joan of Arc, Ingrid personified everything Jessica thought was noble.

 

Then, in 1949, Ingrid went to Italy to make a movie and she fell in love with her director. She got pregnant, even though the man was not her husband, and she wanted the baby. The world went apeshit. At about this time, Washington's anti-Communist witch hunt tightened its stranglehold on Hollywood. Jessica's family life is upended, as her father has to cope with both Ingrid's scandal and actors and writers being blacklisted.

I wish I liked this book better. The premise is rich. The writing is generally very good -- I could almost smell the chlorine at the pool and hear those tennis balls being thwacked over the net. But I didn't really care about Jessica or her mother. So for me, it's a 3-star read.

3. What will you read next? Don't know.

 

$30 seems like a good amount

I had lunch with my friend Joanna last Friday. We dined under an umbrella along the water at Chicago's River Walk. It was a beautiful day and we had a lovely time. Except ...

Joanna is broke. Really busted. For the last decade she has been investing all her money in her own business, and it's simply not working. She's good at what she does, but she's not good at marketing herself, getting the word out, attracting new clients. New business acquisition is an area of expertise in and of itself, and no one is good at everything. 

But now here Joanna is, nearly 70 with no retirement savings and little money coming in. She often depends on her credit cards to make ends meet. She's not angry. She doesn't sound scared. She just seems ... resigned. I think she's been living with this reality so long that it's no longer fused with emotion.

As we wandered The River Walk, I kept steering her to the small booths, heavy on desserts. I figured that would be easier on her wallet than a meal. But no, she wanted lunch. She had a pair of sliders, I had a (really delicious) turkey sandwich. The bill, with tip, was $47. She had a "what the hell" attitude, but I thought we could have made a wiser choice. She put everything on her credit card because she didn't have any cash. For my portion, I gave her four $10 bills, folded. We were so engaged in conversation that she didn't count it, just slipped it into her wallet. I felt good about that. I wanted to help her, not embarrass her.

Something she said stayed with me: she uses whatever cash she has for groceries. She said when she's out of money, she stops putting food in her cart. She made grocery shopping sound like something of an adventure or a game, but I didn't like the sound of that.

Now I'm in better financial shape than she is, but I'm not a wealthy woman. The problem with retirement is that you don't know how long it will last, so I must be careful with my money.

I simply can't afford to give Joanna the funds it will take to give her security. 

I also want to preserve her dignity. She hasn't asked me for help. 

So I checked out her neighborhood online and found that the retailer nearest her apartment is Walgreen's. I went to the location in my neighborhood and bought a $30 gift card. That seemed like a good amount. Big enough to help, at least in the moment, but not big enough to be embarrassing. I put it in a classic movie notecard (An American in Paris; we both love old movies and Joanna is a Francophile).

I wrote: "I firmly believe that when you discover you need something in a hurry, you can always find it at Walgreen's. It makes me happy to think that next time you suddenly need 60W bulbs, or sunscreen, or a can of Campbell's Chicken Soup, you can pick it up on me."

Yes, I know she is likely to use it all at once on essentials, but I like my narrative better.

The $30 giftcard is just a finger in the dike. It'll help her with the week, but it won't stave off financial disaster. Still, she knows I care about her. She knows I'm in her corner. Support is all I can give her and I hope she feels my good intentions.

Teaser Tuesday

Here's how to play.

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)

The Hollywood Daughter by Kate Alcott. We meet our narrator in New York City, 1959. The daughter of a Hollywood publicist, she went away to college in Vermont now works for Newsweek. She is about to get a mysterious opportunity to go home again.

In a leisurely fashion, I opened the fancy envelope. It was an invitation, yes. Engraved. But no, not to a wedding.

Jessica Malloy (indeed, me) was cordially invited to attend the 1959 Academy Awards at the Pantages Theater in Los Angeles as a guest. Nowhere on the invitation did it say who was doing the inviting – just a cool request for an RSVP because attendance is limited.

I smoothed the polished surface of the invitation with my hand, letting it be, for a moment. Aladdin's lamp. The broken gutters and moldy carpet of my shabby apartment building disappeared.