Pitty Poo

Marlene pointed out today that a mutual friend from the Bad Old Days (some of which I am no longer allowed to mention in her presence) has published a book. She discovered this in the process of googling her name, as one does. Her name turned up in the acknowledgments section (I don't dare call it "page" because of the length). "He mentioned just about everybody from back then!" she claimed. Sure enough, he mentioned his old girlfriend and his roommate that snaked his old girlfriend, and more people that I recall from those days. Marlene is astonished that she was mentioned. She was more mildly surprised to find that I wasn't. Nope, I checked that long list pretty thoroughly and I wasn't there.
Not that I need to be.
I only lived in that house for a half a year.
I was only there when all the poo hit the propeller.
And I've been acknowledged before. See for yourself in John Jakes' best seller North and South. And again in Steve Naifeh and Greg White's Pulitzer Prize winning biography Jackson Pollock: an American Saga.
So, I don't need the mention. I mean, I actually did some work on those books. Steve jokingly referred to me as the foremost expert on Lee Krasner at the time of her death because of all the transcription work I had done.
That isn't what hurts.
It takes me back to a very painful time, a time of rejection, manipulation, and hostility and brings it all back to me. So today I have held my own little pitty party. I boo-hoo'd a bit. Then I got angry all over again at old stuff.
I am so thankful to have found Bob. Bob is a wonderful man. He tried to cheer me up by claiming that the way our state is, anyone who didn't like Obama wouldn't like Hillary either and it wouldn't hurt Obama if people voted for other people down the list, like John Edwards. Nice try!
If not, maybe we'll both mope around this evening over a bowl of ice cream.