denny-1's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- my Reality... my Fantasy... I'm obsessed with Ben Afflect. Not your regular obsessions, no, this one is really scary. Like I know I will meet him...or at least I honestly believe I will. These types of things happen to me from time to time, as if something in my gut tells me what will happen. So here I am obsessing with Ben, yes, we're on a first name basis. And I think to myself, I'm going to write him a letter, a note, a brief memoir, a vague hello, but reality kicks in and squishes me brief moment of hope. Knowledge is power, and power is the key. He's currently in a vulnerable state, Ben, and with this knowledge, he may just try something stupid, like write back. All men seem to be reckless just after a break up...I shall do what men do...strike when the strikein's good! Timing is everything.
You see...this is the plan. I'm writing a screenplay and he is my star. At this point, he's just a pretty face, and a nice bod...who knows what else. I want him for my work...whatever that entails...(did I mention that I'm going straight to hell?)...Itchy feet... So, this screenplay business, yes. This is a STORY about a girl who is writing a documentary (mocumentary/comedy) about the APA Pool league. She joins this league, as a recreational bar room pool player, and then becomes engulfed in the ' pool society' of a middle aged mix of fathers and their son�s, primarily of Irish and Italian blue collar decent. She ends up the star player on the team, bring the team to Las Vegas through her recently acquired pool skills (they take her under their wing), in which the story centers around this plot...The quest for Vegas. The game is always about winning, winning in every way...and she does...in every way. The girl ends up with a win, a story, and a guy she never dreamed would fit into her picture...this guy...of course, is no other than, Ben Affleck...but, he doesn't know this yet. He is just perfect for this...he knows the area, it's set at a local joint in Somerville, MA...a large dive filled with guy guys...playing pool, drinking beers, watching the Sox after a days worth of work. blah blah blah. That's my story. I had a dream that I had an affair with George W. Bush, yes, our president GWB...Where this came from I will never know. I don't find him attractive, yet I did watch a program on his dealings with September 11th and his demeanor struck me as VERY intriguing...the kind that makes you go, hmm, that's funny, I never knew that about so and so...and so, I began to receive these love letters, and presents. George would tell his 'people' to contact me and have me meet him for coffee just so he could see my face...just to look at me. Is this twisted or what? This is my life, a pathetic obsession with a movie star and a brief romantic encounter with he President. Reality...spent the weekend with my little sister (she's 11, soon to be 12 on Thursday). We attended the saddest movie either of us could bear, Uptown Girls, about two girls relatively our age that had both lost parents, and stayed up till 3am to make hula skirts and leis for her birthday luau next Sunday. This was followed by more hula paraphernalia making, the Pat's game, and a cookout. After hours of crafts, I was all too ready to make my way home to laundry, the last of my book, and the start of a new one, and finally BED. My Reality... My Fantasy...
10:26 a.m. - 2003-09-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||