I don't know how to tell you guys this, so I'll just come out and say it. I'm actually OK. I have no brain injury at all. I just like people to feed me, bathe me, look after me, spoil me, drive me everywhere. Ha, ha, ha. If only it were like that. Just the other day I went out for a pedicure and a manicure, and I realized how messed up I am. But, you know, I remember what I was like a few years ago. I couldn't even breathe on my own, so I guess you gotta remember where you were. Think of the positive things.
It's good to have an idea of where you'll end up. Then everything becomes automatic. You eventually get to where you want to be.
This month was Traumatic Brain Injury month. The month of March. I don't know who thinks this shit up but good on them. It's good more people are aware of Traumatic Brain Injury You know, there's going to be a lot of people with TBI what with the smart phones and driving and the soldiers coming back from the wars. It's going to be on the increase. Watch you'll see. I'm going to pull out my soapbox and megaphone again. This is going to be a public service announcement, but I'll tell you this, it's a little unnerving to have breakfast with a young person that's missing part of her head. I used to have breakfast with this one girl who was all messed up from a single text message she was sending while driving.
I'm gonna tell a couple of fashion confession stories. Right now I'm remembering the past to try and forget how I feel right now. Once again, I feel like shit, but here's a couple of fashion confessions.
I was on the west coast doing a commercial fashion shoot. This was a time before cell phones. I guess that kind of dates me. Anyway, I was inside the location van when I heard the art director say, let's reshoot just 6A, 7A and AB. I thought to myself, Holy Shit! are they crazy? I jumped in my car and told my assistant to throw everything in and drove off before they could find me. Oh, yeah, did I mention, this was at the end of the day, when they said we were finished. Anyway, I got the hell out of there. Funny, I never worked for them again.
Another confession I have to make is, well, it could have been kind of serious. I was doing a photographic shoot around my house in North Bondi, Sydney, Australia. I was shooting with a Japanese client. They wanted me to reshoot like 4 outfits. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't say no. I went up to my apartment to tell my agent I'd be working longer. Well, I looked out the window and there was a couple of older guys, like 28 and they were playing with water pistols that looked like real weapons. they must have had vodka in the water pistols. Anyway, in my infinite wisdom, I called the police. I told them there were some guys with handguns right next door to me. Well I think the whole police force in Sydney showed up. They shut our shoot down. What a shame. Anyway, I didn't have to do those extra shots after all. Oh yeah, you should have seen the look on the guys faces, you know the guys that had the squirt guns. It was pretty funny. Dangerous but funny.
I'll talk a little about TBI. You know, I always joke around about my condition, but it really sucks. I think right now reality really sets in. I had a great life in Montauk, NY. My houses I had were basically my investment in the future. But since my brain injury, everything is gone. And oh my god! The worst part of it all is I'm living with my parents. I'm 50 years old and I had to ask my parents if I could move in. I joke around all the time, but you know what, you have to joke around. Otherwise, you go crazy.
OK, I'm gonna lighten it up a little. Sorry, I was getting kind of heavy there. Anyway, you know, I go to the wellness center for strength building and to stay healthy. It's in the middle of the day, so most of the other people, they're like 70 or so. Anyway, I heard these two women talking, one older woman said to the other, "How come married women are heavier than unmarried women?" The other woman said, "I don't know. Why are they heavier?" And the other women said, "An unmarried woman comes home at the end of the day, she has a look in the fridge, has a snack and goes to bed. A married woman comes home, has a look at what's in bed, goes to the fridge and eats and eats and eats."
Talk to you guys next week. Love, B. Nice
P.S. I read the blog, or I should say, my friend read it to me, and I came down kind of heavy on my parents. Hell, they took me in, saved my life. Otherwise, I'd be in a nursing home. I just wanted to say, "Thank you."