Well, here we are four days out and I’ve sent nothing to the big man. It’s not a big deal. I asked myself why I was doing it in the first place anyway. I mean, there’s nothing wrong in general with wanting to send someone a birthday card. But…
1) Our dude doesn’t know me from Eve. Getting birthday cards from strangers if you’re just Private Q. Citizen would be weird enough. I can’t imagine having become famous does much to mitigate the weirdness.
I hope he got a good laugh out of the first one I sent him, though (the card itself… I’m afraid I talked his eyeballs off, and it was all very boring), so I’m not sorry I sent it. I could take or leave the second one, honestly.
2) I don’t send anyone else birthday cards regularly except my daughter, and at this point I’m not sure how much longer that will be a thing given that her next birthday later this year is her 18th (legal adulthood in the United States) and there’s bad blood at this point (it’s complicated, there’s no way for me to explain it without [a] making this site too much about me and I do that too much already and [b] someone misconstruing something I’ve said and making huge drama out of it, and that’s if I even still have any serious readers following along) AND either she and her dad won’t live in that house forever or she won’t live with him forever and no one tells me anything anymore in the first place, much less about address changes. I mean he took her out of state at least twice after I moved South, not a word to me, not an explanation (they did not go places I would have expected, such as to visit his parents), and she had some semi-big-deal medical stuff come up and I didn’t hear shit about that either (I still have access to her online medical info, legally, is the only reason I know — that’s where her trips out of state were mentioned too). So it’ll shape up real quick to being me not sending birthday cards to anyone. Because I am daft and I forget this shit even with the people I’m on good terms with. So making a point of sending a card to a total stranger every year with all this other going on is a bit weird.
(An example of the weirdness I had to contend with from her father: when I brought all of this up in one of our rare face-to-face meetings since February, he said he wasn’t leaving me out on purpose. Oh, well, that’s okay then, it’s all right to never hear about my child since you didn’t mean it. This wasn’t the first time I’d left the state in response to his egregious behavior, either; last time she was with me and barely a year old, and I did tell him what was going on with her. We spoke frequently. This is the first time in her entire life that I’ve left her with him and this is how he plays it. But I should be okay with it because it’s all an “accident.” Sure. Okay. Moving on.)
3) I can’t remember ever having had a real handle on my finances, maybe when I was in the Army but barely even then, and have even less of one now because everything is still so unsettled. So one day I might seriously consider sending something through the mail, the next I’m wondering if I’ll be able to keep gas in the car long enough to earn more. Cannot make writing things to total strangers a priority in those circumstances. Postage and cards cost money and I got rid of my cardmaking supplies months ago (no room in the car). Just the way it is.
So hey, the site’s still here. There’s that. There’s a faint possibility it may disappear for two days but only faint. Depends on how item 3 in previous paragraph plays out over the next six days. Sigh.
4) When I send things to my dude — just the two cards at this point — I send them to London, to his agent’s address. I strongly suspect he hates London and doesn’t spend much time there if he can at all avoid it. I don’t know if his agency forwards his mail or if he has to go to London to get it and if the latter, I doubt he goes often. So even if this whole thing weren’t weird as hell I’d have to ask if he ever even gets his fan mail at this point, or when he gets it versus when it arrived. I have no idea how any of that plays out. A while back, a workaround occurred to me where I could increase the chances that he’d actually see what I sent, but the viability of it would depend on several other factors still being in play, and I don’t know anything about any of that because big man’s life might as well carry a Top Secret clearance. It is what it is. So I have not attempted the workaround and I will not spell it out for you either. Best left alone.
It’s all okay, really. His agent suggests including a self-addressed, stamped envelope (no international reply coupon) when you write to him, and I deliberately did not do that and actually I’m not sure I even put my full name on the return address, because I felt a bit silly with everything and so I just wanted to say my piece and send a funny/cool thing to acknowledge his birthday and then move on. So even if he would have written back to say “oh hey, I hate London, I don’t get your mail til way late” — and he did at one point respond to his fan mail — he wouldn’t have been able to. And at this point, even if he absolutely is still a confirmed bachelor with a lot of shit going on — even when he’s not at work, and he’s had a lot of work post-Game of Thrones for someone who is not ranked a top-tier actor by the establishment — obviously he’s going to be busy, and if he’s married he will be even more busy. I never thought I was going to get a pen-pal out of this; I’m surprised I got any response from that camp at all and it was to this site and the social media, not anything I wrote to him directly. What’s already happened alone would make for fun stories for the grandkids one day, if I thought I’d be getting any grandkids. I’m not sure I could cope with anything more. I certainly wouldn’t feel I could talk about it here. None of you would believe me. Haha.
Am still trying to sort out the whole job thing. I’m more than half convinced at this point that the rich and powerful are mostly insane. It feels a bit like the universe pushing me into just doing my own thing instead of going begging for someone else to find me worthy enough to pay me shit wages for shit work. And I’m not against doing shit work. Someone has to do it, I just wish society wouldn’t keep trying to re-enact the Hindu caste system when India itself has banned it. It doesn’t work, folks. It just causes a lot of resentment and social unrest. If you don’t want to do the job yourself then appreciate whoever is willing to do it for you.
But anyway. It feels like I spend a lot of my time waiting. Even delivery driving is waiting because the actual work takes just a few minutes on either end (assuming the restaurant is not screwing around — lookin’ at you, McDonald’s, what the actual fuck? — and the customer understands how their own apartment building’s entry code system works and has their building number displayed properly — again, what the actual fuck?) and the rest of it is just traveling around listening to the same 300 songs on my playlist day after day. But if I don’t put in the time I don’t get the money, which means time I could be using to improve my situation is being wasted along with my gasoline and my car’s general condition. I had banked on only having to deliver for maybe a couple months at best. Well, here we are at the couple-months mark, more like two and a half, and nada. I got an email from the parent company for one of my gig temp agencies today asking how my “assignment” was going. Dude, don’t ask me. They said the hours were gone and then I stopped hearing from them. This week I’m waiting to hear about two interviews I had last week for actual jobs, not temp assignments… and nada. One may still be a faint possibility, and if I get it I will be in pain for a while because it’s all physical labor. (Like I said, I’m not against doing shit work.) The other, the manager said I’d hear from him by today. His store closes at 10pm daily, but somehow I don’t think it will go that late. If I don’t hear from him by 5 I’m writing that one off. Unless he calls on a later day than he anticipated, but I don’t see that happening.
So I have to figure this out. It would be easier to schedule my time for things like getting training done if the delivering were consistent hours with consistent income. Alas.
I tell myself Rory very likely went through similar shit, but worse because he didn’t even have the gig economy to fall back on. One of the things I like about him is I can look at him and go, “Oh hey… You’re one of us [working class] and you got out.” I have zero desire to be an actress and I never had that inner compass that said I wanted to be a definite thing in life. He did, and maybe that’s why he made it out. I would be happy with just being more stable, at this point. On my own. We’ll see.