My people… If I could lock you in my basement, I would.
I have never once in my entire life done anything practical.
I have spent 36 years wearing a superhero cape and telling people I have magical powers.
I have leapedĀ off more buildings than I can count.
ScreamingāIāM SUPERMAN.
And then crashing into the pavement.
It has given me all kinds of problems.
Not to mention whiplash.
And also the realization that I lack the gene to learn from my mistakes.
In its place, I got an extra gene.Ā Of self-delusion.
The ability to cling to an idea regardless of reality.
Q:Ā Where did Rocky get the Kingdom mirror? Ā
Rocky does clean-outs. Ā It was in a storage unit. Ā
Q: How tall? Slightly over 8′. Ā Ceiling is 9′.
I started this blog with the conviction that people would find me via magic and unicorns.
And the disparity between what my imagination had planned, and actual reality?
Has been a little soul-crushing.
And irritating.
Not to mention how unicorns are totally unreliable.Ā Flaky.
So distracted by rainbows and deep-conditioning their manes.
But I have told myself that if I JUST KEPT GOING.Ā It would be worth it.
After all, my parents promised me that hard work always pays off.
Although, I donāt think they took into consideration how one day I might wake up and decide to spend all my free time doing what is essentially quirky performance-art for strangers.
Thatās what blogging is: the millennium-version of mimes.Ā You donāt see those people anymore, do you?Ā No.Ā You donāt.Ā They all went home and washed their faces and started a blog.
The story of the mirror in the foyer is here.Ā If you want to know how we mounted it to the wall.
For an entire year, I have been standing on your lawn in my mime-outfit.
In the rain and the snow.
Believing that if I loved youĀ enough.
SURELY YOU WOULD LOVE ME BACK.
But sometime in the last few months, I started to doubt my plan.
I was cold.Ā And tired. Ā And it was like you didnāt even see me.
Was I at the right house?
Were you away?
And I started to notice that there were all kinds of other mimes on your lawn.
Squatters.Ā Vying for your attention.
Some of them had way nicer leotards than me.
I wanted to kick them all in the shin.
Until last Tuesday. Ā When the unicorns FINALLY showed up.
It would be impossible for me to overstate my euphoria.
Which for most people translates into gratitude to a higher power⦠and for me, translates into wanting to lock you all in my basement so you can never leave me.
For a week, I did nothing but sit in front of my pageview-counter and hit refresh.
Refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh.
Refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh, refresh.
REFRESH.
REFRESH.
It was the most productive week of my life.
I totally abandoned all pretense of real work.Ā Or real life.Ā Or real anything.
I am the last person on the planet who has actual paperwork to deal with, and I just lit it on fire.
I stopped answering email.
I ate peanut butter out of the jar and let the laundry pile up.
I did not shower or brush my teeth.
When people asked me if Iād finished x or y or z.
I just screamed at themāMY BLOG!!!!
MY PEOPLE.
THEY EXIST.
And if they didnāt understand, I tried to convey my sheer, overwhelming joy, through interpretative dance.
Every single thing that I have ever failed to do has been rectified by the fact that 55,000 people shared me on Facebook.
If that doesn’t make sense to you, thatās fine.Ā But this is a blog about me.
The people Iāve been looking for ALL MY LIFE.
Actually exist.
They feel that they ARE me.
And I am them.
This is going in my file titled: Ā proof.
Proof of what exactly? Ā I don’t know.
Proof, whichĀ Paul points out is both unpaid, AND has me awake at three A.M.
Manic and clutching my phone to see if anyone else liked me on Facebook.
If YOU are one of the twenty-seven billion people on Facebook who have NOT liked me?
I donāt know why you would do that to yourself.
You can go ahead and fix that right now.
I spent the first three days swinging from the chandelier. Ā And throwing myself on the floor in delight.Ā And jumping up and doing it again.Ā Because with me, once is never enough.
All day, and all night, I hunched over my keyboard. Ā Rubbing my hands together and mumbling: come on baby.Ā Hit me.Ā Hit me.Ā Hit me.
Biting my nails that the highlight of my entire life was happening RIGHT NOW.
And trying to divide 55,000 Facebook shares into the scope of human existence.
By the fifth day. I was mostly sitting in a corner. Rocking back-and-forth and sobbing.
Because nothing this good will ever happen again.
Basically, my life is over.
Like if Christmas only came once in your entire life.
And after that, you had to live in a dark hole.
No matter HOW GOOD the presents were?
I don’t think anyone would be very excited about that.
I will love you EVEN MORE… if you share me with your friends.Ā
July 13, 2013 @ 1:25 am
I have been lurking for a bit, but had to leave a comment because you made me laugh…and buy a gold mirror. Looking forward to future portals, kingdoms, and other adventures!
July 16, 2013 @ 12:40 pm
I didn’t KNOW you were on facebook until now! I saw the mirror story someone shared but it led back here & I subscribed…PUT A LINK AT THE BOTTOM OF EACH STORY so each share leads to the website AND facebook too!! YOU are hilarious and I love your writing and stories (and craigslist with my unwilling side-kick/furniture hauler hubby)
July 16, 2013 @ 10:42 pm
I always wanted to know what happened to Eloise when they decided to renovate The Plaza. It never occurred to me that she was living in Philadelphia under an assumed name. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.
July 18, 2013 @ 9:56 am
Saving this in my “greatest comments ever” folder.
xo
July 18, 2013 @ 12:58 pm
Missed this one, somehow. There were certain people that I came into contact with that were so cute, and I used to say that I was going to lock them in my basement and have a “Cute People” collection. Not in a creepy horror movie way, even though I understand how freakishly disturbing it sounds.
I’m so glad your post got the attention it did, and that it enabled me to find your blog. I get the “Refresh” thing, although I was excited at 100 views, lol!
July 26, 2013 @ 10:38 pm
Discovered your Kingdom Mirror post via Heidi Swanson’s 101cookbooks site. I’ve been reading thru your archives all day. I’m so glad you got discovered! Don’t let the pressure of an expectant audience make you freeze up. Just keep doing what you’re doing!
August 18, 2013 @ 9:13 am
I have commented twice now in the last 30 minutes, and I found your blog approximately 40 minutes ago, so I feel we are connected in a deep way. Naturally.
We have a joke about my cute, blonde haired, blue eyed, petite, 18year old daughter when warning people that she can bite.
“She doesn’t ride unicorns and fart rainbows you know.”
So just in case we’ve been wrong all these years…. I’m so sorry she was hogging the unicorn.
March 23, 2014 @ 2:18 pm
My mother was a historic preservationist and volunteered at the nearby 1890 house, and now you live in one! We were all about decorating in Victorian style at our house.
And this post! It’s like you’re inside my head. š So happy for your success (from another mime in a much worse leotard).
February 10, 2016 @ 12:56 am
I had no idea how to approach this be-rnefoow I’m locked and loaded.
January 13, 2017 @ 7:35 pm
Dear Victoria: Get. Out. Of. My. Head!!!!
I am your people. You are my people. I am still giggling over the Kingdom mirror…and likely have changed the requirements for the mirror I am looking for to live over the fireplace in my 1868 home (which, coincidentally, has original “Kingdom” crown molding, complete with draping pineapples in the corners). Because I didn’t know Kingdom mirrors existed. Until now. The unicorns have arrived!
Not five minutes before receiving a link to your blog, I was having an argument with the mirror-trolls in MY head about a certain mirror. I found a dramatically ornate, Victorian style mirror, solid wood carved with ribbons and bows and flowers, original period glass intact, for $125. Then I found two different reproductions of the same mirror that look surprisingly accurate, despite being made of plastic, for $15. My budget-troll screams, “What a deal! $15!!!” To which my historic-troll replies at an even louder decibel level, “That’s sacrilege! You can’t put a plastic reproduction in an 1868 house! Are you nuts? Buy real or move.”
But now, those trolls have heard the sound of harps playing from the heavens, and they have united in a quest for…..a kingdom mirror. Because now that we know they exist, we must have one. And that, as they say, is that.
Now that I know that you exist, I will be reading regularly!