“I don’t know how to ‘rate’ how I’m feeling. I don’t even f*@%ing want to be here.”
Seven heads shot up and stared at the redheaded woman in our circle. A few of us giggled nervously.
“You all have these cool projects you’re presenting, and I just don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Alyssa’s eyes watered and inwardly, we all applauded. Finally. An honest answer.
In an uncharacteristically social moment a few months earlier, I had accepted a friend’s invitation to a “Vegan Creatives” 5-day retreat on Cape Cod.
“I want to get a bunch of my vegan artist friends together to talk about our projects and brainstorm,” Shawna, the retreat mastermind, had explained. She and I had met the prior summer at my Masters program residency, where she had graciously overlooked my penchant for public urination.
Much like the cold sweats I experience when interviewing narcissists for school assignments, as the retreat neared, I began to shvitz. What was I thinking? I didn’t know the hostess or anyone going. Sure, I had my thesis project to present, but I was also in the throes of writing said thesis. Could I handle any more stress?
“JUST GO,” I told myself for the 9,000th time. “It’ll be good for you.”
Arrive at guest house. Meet three-legged, one-eyed dog and attractive vegans #1-7. Eat colorful food and receive unicorn name. Grow concerned that I seem to be having…what’s the word…fun. No. That can’t be it.
Convince Alyssa she too is having, well, whatever these feelings are. Begin stroking each other’s hair. Watch Tracy feed pet bee sugar water. Try to take photo without Dakota wearing a bowl. Unsuccessful.
Eat more colorful food, voluntarily touch beach garbage, and reevaluate entire existence. Can I vote using new unicorn name?
Learn that not only do new best friends save animals, sing, write, paint, cook, act, travel, scale mountains, rollerblade with bubbles and have kickass blogs, but the hostess, Allison Argo, has won half a dozen Emmys. Attempt to steal one.
Say goodbye. Ugly cry.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tuck my Emmy into bed.
24 thoughts on “Someone Tried to Steal My Emmy”
I’ve always wanted to visit the Cape….and that looked like so much fun! But please tell me your unicorn name was Mystic Snowflake F*ck Dream. Please?
It was stunning! Although I suspect it’s a bit of a poo show in the summer (crowds)… Sigh, no. That magical moniker belongs to none other than Alyssa “Go F Yourself” Snowflake Dream. We were thinking of starting a YouTube channel called, “Ask Mystic Alyssa.” Except we fear all of her answers might be the same…
I’m strangely disappointed, but okay.
This post just made my morning. So much love to you, Jules.
P.S.- Handle that Emmy more gently. You put a lot of hard work into earning it.
Emerald. Sister. My love for you grows like an oozing string of Soyrizo, plopping out with the force of a thousand charging unicorns.
Hey Jersey Girl, give me my Emmy back!!!
It has already begun growing out its Snooki poof and saying “yous guys”…are you sure you still want it?
Totally enjoyed your writing , Jules 👍
Thank you so much, Rita! This was such a fun one to experience AND write 🙂
It showed up in your writing.👌
That photo of you with all the Emmys lined up on the shelf kills me (and of course, the first photo should be your new gravatar…)
So happy you all had a such a good time!
I wish you had been there, DP! I’ve spent way too much time thinking about whether I should make the first one my new FB profile picture.
You guys are too funny but did you paint any? If so, did you take pictures? Curious minds and all. 🙂
Ha! It was a mix of artist ‘types,’ so there was actually only one painter among us (Tracy – the lovely lady holding the burrito) and she DID spend a few nights painting! She puts them up (they’re AWESOME) on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/iamgratefuleveryday/
We’re hoping she’ll give the rest of us lessons at the next retreat. And I’m pleased to report the writers among us have been cheering each other on ever since meeting! 🙂