I know I come off as suave and a self confident, but let me tell you that the truth is no where near that.
When I’m uncomfortable I ramble. I am terrible at meeting new people and when I’m around people I know that I am intimidated by don’t ask about the nutty things that come out of my mouth.
I SAID DON’T ASK!
Well I now have to work very hard to pull myself together because I’m having a big time visitor spending the night in my guest room.
It’s Miss Lizzie’s father, Dr. Tom.
I’ve spoken about him before. Forget that he’s world famous as a plastic surgeon and has spent a large part of his life fixing the faces of little African children, so he’s a good person as well as charming and really comfortable in his skin.
And who does he hang around with? Not people like me I’ll tell you that. He is friends with movie stars, Shahs and Presidents, real Presidents, not like Presidents of the Bronx . He and Robert Redford know each other’s phone numbers BY HEART.
I’ve spent some time in his company and I never come away feeling good about myself. Every time there’s a slight pause in the conversation I babble to fill the void. I remember once I told him that I bragged to all my friends that he and I were so close that he never makes a move without checking with me first. He just smiled kindly but there was clearly a bewildered look fleeting across his face.
Now he’s going to be sleeping in my house. Liz mentioned it to David first asking if he knew if anyone in my family would be staying there then and he said
“Are you kidding? What does it matter? She’d throw any of them out for him”.
I gotta say he’s right. Would I tell Obama “Sorry no room at the inn?” No I would not.
I’m sitting in my guest room right now checking it out. There is a comfortable bed and lovely sheets. He’ll have his own bathroom. Both rooms need painting but no time for that and I figure if I sleep on the floor outside his room I can get him anything he needs during the night, a snack or some juice.
What I’m going to have to do is work on my patter.
David has said that I can always resort to the lame shit I always talk to him about, trying to pump him about all the celebs he knows but I get the feeling that he’s just setting me up to look stupid. He’s like that.
I’m thinking I’ll try to meet him on his own ball field. I’ll bring up stuff that WASPS like to talk about, Like cricket and Jesus.
I”m feeling more confident already.
Oh, there is one more tiny thing. Just before he comes I’m getting cataract surgery in my left eye and I’ll be wearing one of those clear plastic eye patches.
My niece Stephanie had a suggestion that I paint a winking eye on it.
Sounds like an idea. It kills 2 birds with one stone. It will make me look more “devil may care” plus it’s a great conversation piece.
And I thought I didn’t have this aced.