Yeah, but see, here’s the thing………….I mean, besides a resounding, “May the 4th be with you, to all you people with a lisp out there………..the thing is……….one of several……….is….even though my performance——my incredibly layered performance——–of “Carrie Fisher” in the show, “Wishful Drinking” was overlooked by the Tony Commission of the United States of Live Action Theater in Manhattan……..I find myself almost effortlessly able to maintain a brave front (on top of my redonkulously large 34 LL boozum)……..

Of course, yes, I spent years——-if not DECADES———working on what I like to think of as my delicately layered portrait of CARRIE FISHER——–that tragic, dual celebrity offspring/issue——-who went from intergalactic off center fold to  drug addicted cinematic side kick to bi polar one time bride of bite sized brilliant song writer to not so semi autobiographical novel scribbling mother of that beautiful child, fathered by that oops did I forget to mention I was bisexual and ever increasingly influential agent to everyone who is anyone in the Industry, to scream writing script doctor friend of that guy who turned out to be dead when I woke up next to him the morning after my ex’s star studded Oscar party……. to that nut house hopping, weight gaining bon mot mumbling one woman show running round the US, eventually winding up on that great white way for in excess of four months, a performance for which I was NOT nominated for the Antoinette Perry “Tony” Award today———-of all days——-May the forth——–which, for many lisping intergalactic devotees will always or never be remembered as the May the Forth—–yes………may the forth be with you—— and you and you and…………even you…….way out over there………that’s right…….YOU………

Couldn’t they see what a stretch it was for me to play, “Carrie Fisher”? Every nite and two times on Wednesday and Saturday,  I had to get out of my way——–all the way out and then slowly, slowly, cell by cell by syringe by syllable…….ever so surreptitiously and unsympathetically into…….whatever that was……… character?………a process so……..so…………well, as you can no doubt intuit…….among other things ……a process……requiring—– well………not only concentration, but …….something a little like………..COURAGE!  I mean, how many people can portray a……….a version of themselves without seeming to be other than who you were when your sense of identity was more intact…….You MIGHT say that on some level you were doing something that you were unaware you were engaged in conveying……….Oh sure……..you might say………how hard could that be? Pretending to NOT be pretending to be yourself? Ha! You might say——–where is the artistry in acting natural? Come on!  Isn’t everyone essentially acting like themselves everyday? (But without an intermission) Who do I think I am when I’m pretending to be real? If I’m apparently ‘down to earth’, where am I coming down to earth FROM? What would it mean, to award someone for acting like themselves? Wouldn’t we then have to award everyone for their daily portrayal of themselves in the role of, “ME”…………”THEM”…………”I”?

It was a stretch……….I admit………..sometimes I didn’t identify with the character of “Carrie Fisher”…………who is she? Is she who she was? Who she seems? What am I pretending not to know when I’m ‘acting naturally’? Isn’t that an oxymoron? Aren’t I? Am I who I say I am? Or am I someone else pretending to be me? Each night I presented myself AS myself. Someone you could relate to, if that’s something you were interested in doing, on top of relating to yourself and to others, whoever we all might be.

SO………..ANYWAY, and aside from any and all of that…………..

I suppose the message here is that I wasn’t really convincing as, “Carrie Fisher”. I wasn’t believable as myself. This only confirms what I used to feel when I was on hallucinogens. Back when I could actually spell that word, as well. Next time I won’t take on a roll that I have so little in common with. There’s a big difference between being brave and being over ambitious. The problem is,  a lot of times, I don’t really know what the difference is…….

If anyone has any advice on how I might’ve made the role more believable, I would really appreciate it. You know……..some insight on how best to make a character like Miss Fisher more……….relatable……….accessible………….REAL.

Until then……….may the fifth…….forth………..whatever the fuck……..be with whoever you’re hoping everyone believes you to be…………

xoxo CFF

I had dental surgery this week. My daughter was thrilled (in a mellow, knowing way), because`I was not given pain medicine—–despite the severity of the procedure. The theory behind this perhaps unique form of post operative pain control was that one is only allotted a certain amount of opiates in a lifetime and I had used my coupon. Come to think of it, I may have used a few other people’s coupons as well. And if you think that you may have been one of those people whose coupon I have——–however inadvertently usurped—–Please accept my heartfelt apology.

The funny thing is that I discovered thru this experience that things like Advil actually work. I’m just saying………

Here’s the other thing I was going to tell you. Someone wrote me —– a bipolar someone—- wondering how I managed to move thru this wide, wild world of ours and actually manage to accomplish things. Accomplish, and, at intervals, even thrive. So I thought about it. (I also thought about this other girl posting that she found me annoying. And I concluded that I also found myself annoying at times as well………Empathy anyone?)

Anyhow, this bipolar person was curious how I managed to function given that I was still symptomatic enough mentally ill-wise to require and/or benefit from ECT. One thing that may have assisted in this endeavor is that when I started lurking around 12 step meetings and attending every sort of intensive known to man about …….lets say……….27 or 8 years ago………(not that I’ve been sober for that length of time, by something very like a long shot)…….I found myself resenting the fact that I HAD to go to some of these meetings if I was interested at all in ensuring a semi chaos free existence———-

Come ON!!!!!!!

Didn’t they know that I had better things to do with my time??!!!!!? Better people to hang out with, FAR better places to hang out with them in compared to human ish churches!!!!!………

Didn’t they know who I WAS?????

Didn’t they know who I wanted them to think I was?

Yes, fine, I admit I had sunk quite low in anyone and everyone’s estimation………but that STILL didn’t stop me from thinking that this sort of solution was FAR beneath me.

I may have shared my feelings of displeasure to someone——-I must have———because only a statement such as that would have provoked this person to say, “You don’t have to like these meetings, you just have to go.”

WHAT?????

Wait. Not…….cause see, I thought I had to like everything I did, right? I mean, life was too short for me to accept feelings of upset or———

What a fucking concept.! You mean I DIDN’T have to like what I did all the time?

(making me the ultimate candidate for drug addiction. Having a hard time? Upset? Lonely or lost in the crowd? Can’t seem to feel like everyone else seems????======…….bottom line is——-get loaded!!!! Someone says, “I could care less.!” and you think, “Shit, I COULD care less. I could care less all the goddam time, in fact. I couldn’t care less that the more that I do!)

Have been on a cooking bender of late. In my belated, and perhaps misguided attempt to resemble a “mother”………a traditional mother, that is. One quite unlike my own mumbly peg mom…….Not that there’s anything WRONG with my mother’s rendition of parenting. Far from it. She was both mother and father to my brother and I. Not only that, but an amazing role model for not only overcoming all obstacles, but thriving and excelling once said overcoming——after miles of doing—– done. ———-at least til the next time. Had my mother bothered to assemble a motto or six, one of them could have been, “If at first you do succeed, then by God, there’s a good chance you could succeed again. And even another time after that——–Only this time your success might (have to?) come from an unexpected direction. Unexpected perhaps, but not wholly unfamiliar.”

As mottos go, this one is, admittedly, more than a bit unwieldy……..But I”ve never been accused of being succinct. Bloated, yes. Endless, absolutely. But succinct & myself is ANYTHING but a match.

ANYWAY……….

I was discussing my recent sojourn in my kitchen. Slaving over stoves and suchlike. I find it so restful at times, you know? Stop me if I’ve told you this before, but giving yourself over to the dictates of recipes is……….a relief, you might say. (If I hadn’t already) Deciding on what recipe you’ll be working from—-once that’s over, your deciding is done. For this while anyway. Until the next recipe, or the one after that. The recipe suggests that you get a cup of milk. No big deal. When you’ve done that you could get a teaspoon of vanilla…….or even baking soda. And on and on you go——–assembling all that the recipe asks of you——-until it’s time for the oven or the stove! And after all this——–I”m sorry if I sound ridiculous———but after all this, there’s this thing that you made! A thing you can give to other people to put in their bodies———-a practical, tangible sort of caring. You feed them! They put your food into a slot in their heads! It’s pretty intimate, if you think about it from an unnecessarily weird angle. —-Which I don’t encourage you to do. That way madness lies. With me, spread out beside it.

ANYWAY,

All this to say………I’ve cooked things that I’ve cooked before. I’m a creature of habit. In the kitchen and elsewhere…….But then……..THEN……my daughter suggested that I venture out of my safe assortment of dishes and move on into the realm of THINGS I HAND MADE BEFORE. So I did. I made fettuccine alfredo! Raspberry muffins! Christmas morning muffins! Non hash brownies! Cheese Souffle with bacon!!!! Rice pudding! (three times———bad results…….would appreciate suggestions……)
Since “Wishful Drinking” closed, this is the most creative thing I’ve done. Oh, I’ve written. But I’ve cooked more.
Maybe I’m cooking to avoid writing. I used to clean the house———-throwing out a no longer welcome accumulation of ‘cargo’, and thrusting it out into the world. Re arranging rooms and reading books. Even RE reading them! All in an effort to not put things into words. I deliberately keep things OUT of words——-instead stuffing the un words into stoves and mouths and storage boxes and a sprinkling of expectant, outstretched hands. But I’m afraid I can indulge in these caprices any longer…(didn’t I just sound British there? This movie, “Darwin” is on in the background, and the accents in it have infected me with it’s affectation)

That’s all for the immediate now. The movie just ended and I guess I did too. For now, anyway. For the immediate and on going now, Charles Darwin and I bid you adieu.

Talk to you soon…………

You know those people you can’t imagine ever saying, “you know—–you may be right!” or, “Huh, I never thought of it that way…..that’s a good point!” Certainty freaks…..Their version of things is THE version. Nothing in them is teachable….

I could go thru a bunch of stories, wagging my tail, eager to please, all in a sometimes desperate attempt to get you to like me. Actually, I don’t want you to like me so much as be the greatest person you ever met. I want to explode in the night sky of your approval. So rather than going thru all that effort of charming you….. Pushing you to a state of grinning til your face hurts—– what are we pretending not to know here? Instead of frantically trying to coax your good opinion out of you like a crazed suitor, & in the name of saving a lot of energy on both sides I want to propose an understanding——- you loan me your good opinion & I’ll use it as down payment on a little place where I can go to when my bad weather threatens on the horizon—– where I can wait out the storm of uncertainty—-

XxOOxXo CF

Look you guys——

all of u that r shocked & seemingly upset about my weight—–

I might be more upset than you are, (can’t tell sometimes—–obviously more of u r SHOCKED about my weight—–can’t say I’m USED to it, but hardly SHOCKED by now…..)

Contrary to appearances, I’m busting my bovine ass to lose weight to avoid some of this snarky chatter—but it looks as if I might as well have been eating carrot cake all over town…..

Amazing as this might sound, I BARELY eat a fucking thing, AND I exercise regularly, get  acupuncture—-AND I take hundreds of these enormous, annoying vitamins……but it would appear that between being 5 foot ONE & 53 years old (in 3 weeks), I’m not going to be shedding a bunch of pounds anytime soon…..I suppose I could completely STARVE myself, but then I wouldn’t have the energy to do my show, be myself AND (most importantly, of course) defend myself on the Internet to those I’ve been upsetting with my increased presence……..

I hate going on these talk show excursions, cause everytime I do, the Internet fills up with what a fat act I’ve become……

I WOULD stop taking my mood medication, which might make me easier in the eyes in one way, but harder on the ears, in terms of having to decipher the deranged ravings of an unstable and/or unhinged mind….,
I know! Why not read what I write while looking at an old picture……

Then you’ll have the best of BOTH worlds——surf AND turf—–body by youth, aging encouraged wisdom…..
And yes, I actually DO have a stylist—–one with a sense of humor, Thank God

Don’t worry, I won’t try modeling any time soon….

May the force of my exasperation be with you…..

CF

People come to the show expecting to see Carrie Fisher…..if only we could agree about who she actually is…..then we’d all know who it was that turned up on stage admitting & declaring things left & right! Things that become less true as soon as she says them…..Especially when she makes fun of these things—–which is most of the time……why, they’re just stories then—–which is—–no doubt—-partly what she intends. Another way of looking at it is that she’s just bragging——look what weak things I can tell u in a strong voice! Can YOU do that??! I HOPE so! That’s partly why Carrie does it! As a blueprint for you to follow so you can do it too! But she’s not as altruistic as all that. Why, down deep, (which isn’t very far) she’s a real show off! Not only that, she wants you to like her! A Lot! Even LOVE her! And she’ll do anything to achieve that goal! She’ll tell people the most outlandish, even otherwise personal things! She tries to only admit things about herself——-but because she’s lived her life (sometimes inadvertently) among people—-every so often someone else gets hauled into one of her stories & embarrassed half to death…..not that she doesn’t try to avoid that by getting everyone’s permission to appear by her thorny side—-but she realizes that sometimes people don’t admit to things out of pride—–or something similar…….so it’s difficult to avoid the occasional almost inadvertent embarrassment.

She hopes people like her show, cause if they don’t, they kinda don’t like her. I say, “kinda”, cause no one can put themselves into words without leaving SOME of themselves out. The one part they have to leave out necessarily is the part that observes the things she tells you. A safe little “I” that always watches, always keeps a not always so safe distance, so she can tell on herself later. She can impress you with her ability to know herself, & in knowing, reveal. The unexamined life might not be worth living, but the over examined life can be a little awkward to exist with —— that’s why I portray the life I’m not always thrilled to live onstage…… my life seems to be a balance of what I’ve heard someone describe as between “privilege & ordeal”…..

Overall though, Carrie Fisher means well. She wouldn’t want to hurt anyone—–& that almost always includes herself. Though occasionally accidents do happen…..en route to the oblivion she’s been caught trying to arrange for herself by mixing concoctions that could end up actually endangering her life. But she swears she isn’t trying to kill herself…..just un- live little parts of her life…..a goal she sometimes accidentally overshoots, to be sure. But she PROMISES it’s an accident——she wants to blur, not blot out…..

I wouldn’t want to blot myself out——Carrie Fisher wouldn’t either——-because of her daughter, Billie. But not only because. A little bit because of herself—–whoever that is—–and because of her friends and family too. That would be an awful thing to leave them with. So she stays. She outlives herself and goes on and on and on——taking credit for the shit Carrie Fisher does. At times. And sometimes she tries to convince you that she’s not really herself. That is—-the person onstage—-even the one off. She exists between the two. A blur between them. A Blur but not a Blot. A well intended eccentric. Keeping herself at arms length from her emotional world as best she can. Which isn’t always great. Wishing so much to keep herself detached. The one thing she can’t do. She AND Carrie Fisher. None of her can keep detached——–consistently gets hurt, even though she tries to put herself in words to stay safe and out of the way of  that pain that comes with being human. A human with a head. And not a half hearted human at that, but whole hearted—–a heart riddled with holes.

Riddle me this then……..if I’m not Carrie Fisher, whose keeping herself rested so she can portray Carrie Fisher at nite on the stage of Studio 54? We have an arrangement, Carrie and I…….I’ll take care of her if she’ll do a good impression of me onstage.

xoxxoCF

Here we go again………

Now, not only am I googling myself, and even the occasional twitter fest (!shameless plug alert! Perez, i’ve just joined Twitter CarrieFFisher) they made me do that… Anyhow, I’m reading your blogs. Which for the most part are so kind that, if I were a crier, I would sob. Of course though, there are the exceptions, which I look for with feverish concentration and which pretty much ALWAYS pays off! Hooray! I sweep all these internet rips in the social universe for mines, eventually hitting (or getting hit) with pay dirt and exploding in a technicolor tirade.

A human named “The Judge”(charming name—–must get a lot of pussy with that one…..or ass), speculated that my “Weight and Wisdom” post seemed to indicate that I wasn’t a happy person. I seemed to be a kind of Boo hoo hoo fuck you type. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I pretty much have fun at some point every day. Now, you could speculate that that was because I was MANIC, and, in some cases, you would be right. And thanks be to whoever doles out the mood disorders—– I get the full meal of mania, to compensate me for the occasionally steep check! of depression! High Five!VERY High!

A reporter once asked me if I was happy now that I’ve given up drugs. And though I could give you a VERY thorough answer to that complex question, I responded, “Among other things.” Happy is one of the many emotions I find myself experiencing throughout the day. And, Lord love a fuck, I also can find myself pissed off! Oh woe is me once in awhile!

Life is not a Hallmark Card…….(unless we’re talking about the Sympathy cards, acknowledging some recent loss, or a goofy encouragement to have a Happy Channukah!”—–these cards DO tend to reflect life more realistically) I must confess to being happy fairly frequently. How do I know? Because I’ve spent blocks of time in the other swamp. And I’ll take the happy swamp every time. Not that I GET it every time. This doesn’t mean that I SKIP down the veritable STREET, (though I considered it earlier today—-and tragically suppressed my impulse)But I’ve earned my laughing jags that have brought me dangerously close to public humiliation. I had one just now at lunch on Madison Avenue, the other nite in the cab after that fashion show I told you about and in a SOHO restaurant my first nite here in New York. I also plan to be a teeny bit nervous when I do a rehearsal of my show in front of a bunch of humans tonite. I know that’s not the full range of human emotion, but I’ll probably visit most of the feeling sites over a period of a month. Like most humans with a head.

But do I consider myself unhappy or angry?? Only periodically, either when reminded that I no longer look young and hot, or when I experience some sort of loss —–or someone else’s grief ends up on my grid——when my rampant empathy picks up a friend’s pain.

So mister judge man, put that in your pipe and fuck it.  My life brings me every kind of experience. The only thing I have control over is my attitude. Which, after a lifetime of exposure to, is pretty good……….I have more control over my attitude than my big, bovine, tiny dancer abdomen! And I’m prouder of the former than the latter.

That having been said, I’m heading to the gym now and hoping to high five a few strangers on the way! (or weigh)

In closing, I’d like to say that my IQ is dangerously close to my weight. And for those of you skinny folks  out there, I hope the same isn’t true…….

xoxxooCF

You guys, I just read a bunch of your posts and I have to say……….you’re all pretty much incredibly awesome.

Not even pretty much. Beautiful much. Much to the 9th power. SympatiCo. Kindred. I’ve come to find (on all fours) that if you talk to people with the best of yourself, you tend to get the best of whatever human you’re connecting with back. And baby got back big time blog wise.

I’ve been thinking a bit more on this topic recently, and have decided that people should have to get an insult license. I mean, those who insist on posting or other unwise their contemptuous remarks concerning those of us who are less than perfect.  You know—-apply to a official board—–qualified in whatever way you need to be qualified in order to look down on others. Some kind of Hitler Youth Panel. (obviously not literally, but that TYPE……… Blonde. Clear eyed. Able to identify flaws at 30 paces.  Expert. Vaguely reminiscent of David Beckham or Jessica Simpson.  Not emotionally involved. No reason to be envious. Also able to provide tips on how to improve said flaws almost compassionately. Beauty tips. Tips on how lure others into your carefree thrall……..Ensnared in your  intoxicating, irresistible, fungal free net. “Dis”passionate.  Etc.
Or ECT. Whatever works.

Oh! And while we’re not on the subject, I’ve written a rap song called, “Honore de Ball Sack”……..which I hope to debut on this website in honor of the kindness you’ve extended to me.

I am in New York now and about to embark on an extended, potentially whanky media campaign for my show here. Will try to give you a shout out. All of you. Except one.

You know who you are.

In closing I’d like to say…………….
you haven’t lived vicariously til you’ve lived thru me….

Into you as ever………
oxxooxcf

Okay, gang, I’m totally sorry I said that shit that turned up on TV…..it’s inexcusable, though—-being human, I will attempt to illustrate how this happened…..that I said such an asinine thing.

So these creepy stalkerazzi were hovering around outside of that new-found den of iniquity, Mickey Fine Pharmacy, & a few of them followed me to my car—–one with a movie camera. And this cretin sez to me,

“Hey Carrie! What do you think of incest!”

Apropos of absolutely nothing excepting selling to those unscrupulous media outlets that have nothing more urgent to report on—-screw health care & moronic congressman outbursts & missing Yale med students—-let’s manufacture some story where, out of the blue est of Porno blue—-some former celebrity from an iconic film starts prattling on about incest & pedophilia out of nowhere!

Yeah!

That’ll rattle the public’s cage & take the focus off more pressing news. So asks me what I think of incest, & I say sarcastically,

“I think it’s great, don’t you? And you know what else is cool……?” and blah blah blah—- I smart ass my way to my car like, “I sure showed them what an offensive, ridiculous question THAT was!” yeah, I sure showed them..:.all the way to the bank. So now MY stupidity lines their pockets & I come away looking like some snarky ASSHOLE—–so for this & whatever else happens to pop out of my immature, unthinking manic mouth—- I am both chagrined & sorry & will make every unchecked impulse effort to not let it happen again…..

Your shame faced sigh fie sister,

Carrie

And yes, I am probably one of the stupidest smart people you will ever run across—-or run over by a bus——this is merely the most recent example of this phenomenon. For more explicit examples, one need merely to take a piteous glance at my persistent drug use down thru the years….. or attend my show Wishful Drinking at Studio 54.

Thank you for your patience…

“To err is human, to forgive, divine….”

Forgive my thoughtless outburst, if u can. Even though I’m having trouble forgiving the, “you lie!” congressman, I’ll probably end up having to, if I hope for forgiveness my own self……

I thought that I’d forgotten one of the things I was thinking of writing about, but now I remember………at least I think I do…… One thing is that I foolishly Googled myself last nite—–because the Enquirer has been trying to get me to confirm some asinine thing I said as a bad joke AGES ago, & I wanted to see if had shown up somewhere—- which it hadn’t—– until now, when I stupidly call attention to this non event here——- ANYWAY—–in the process of searching, I found that someone had posted that I USED to be hot, but that now I looked like Elton John. As much as I attempted to place myself above the reach of this observation……

I must admit that…..yup……. This ended up hurting my feelings—–all 7 of them.

You see, I was hot when most people are hot—- in my fucking 20’s & part of my 30’s……THEN, in an effort to imitate humans, I had a child &, to further maintain my life like disguise, I took medications for about 9 thousand years, &, despite all my efforts, I continued to get older & older——inadvertently, I assure you———-I tried to arrest my development physically as WELL as emotionally, but unfortunately without as much success. I also must confess that I ate food. I’m sorry….. I realize that I promised never to eat anything but lettuce & sun flower seeds, but tragically, I was unable to keep my promise.

Yes, I realize…..I KNOW that I vowed to exercise for 3 hours a day—-aerobics, pilates AND yoga, but alas, I admit with a large quota of shame, that I failed to fulfill this other important commitment.
NO, I shouldn’t look as if 30 years have passed. I understand completely if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me for looking like 3 decades have passed…….Of COURSE you should mock & belittle me for being so large!! What else could you POSSIBLY do?????!?  I’ve let you down by treating my body as though it were just some giant sad sack that I use to haul my personality around. You have every right to compare me to Yoda or Elton or Kirstie…….I’ve brought it on myself.

But here’s this thing that I found myself wondering………what the fuck do YOU look like??!

I know i don’t really have the right to ask……I’m a public figure——Ive made an unspoken contract to keep that figure slim…….but still, I find myself wondering…….See, I think the folks that insult & mock celebrities who DARE to pack on ten pounds or—–God forbid——MORE than ten!…..I would think it only fair that they post a photo of themselves along with their poisonous observations!  And you know what else would be SUPER cool??? Their IQ! ALL the numbers! An approximate count of Weight AND wisdom!

And as a teeny aside—–my show on Broadway is not about my appearance. Oh sure, I’m killing myself trying to lose weight before I open so I won’t offend any theater goers eyes while attempting to entertain them via their ears…… But just in case I don’t achieve my goal of keeping my promise to look 25 & instead manage to remind you of bulbous slugs or gay, iconic musicians……..
I’d like to take this opportunity to offer this quasi poignant explanation & to say to those of you I’ve visually offended…… from the bottom of my heart encased in fat——-

BLOW MY BIG BOVINE tiny dancer COCK!

We now return to our regular programing……
XxOoCf