Cast of Characters

Who are all these people, and why should I care?

Honestly, you probably don’t give a flying shit who any of these people are, and that’s totally cool. Really. Totally. But if you really want to know, here’s the rundown on my base cast of characters in no particular order. Names and locations have been changed to protect these bozos’ true idiocy….

THE MAIN PLAYERS:

Aunt and Uncle Crazypants: My only living relatives here in Sobrietyland, they are very, very old and the ultimate in white trash right down to the Dogs Playing Poker tapestry that hangs on their wall. They love me, but they drive me nuts. Aunt Crazypants has become very clingy and manipulative lately, insisting on ending every conversation with “I love you” in the hopes that I will say it back. I cannot tell you how much that bothers me, but I’ve been humoring her… so far.

Cee: My best friend whom I have known for 20+ years, who has been figuring more prominently in my life since HWSNBN and I parted interests. She’s soft spoken and kind-hearted and has two adopted kids and a husband she collected somewhere along the way. A true friend, Cee loaned me $1K when my dog was in the hospital (and I paid it all back!). As much as I love Cee, she hasn’t figured out that it’s no longer 1986, as she continues to wear shoulder pads, high-waisted tapered jeans, and superlong, poofy 80’s hair. I recently convinced her to buy a pair of modern bootcut jeans, and she never quite recovered.

My Sister: Evil to the core and MUCH older than me, she loves to go out of her way to make me feel small and worthless, but occasionally bats one out of the park on my behalf because, you know, we’re like, related and stuff. Today, she is a dead ringer for Jamie Lee Curtis, but when she was younger, people said she looked like Ava Gardner. She is married to a wealthy, retired corporate big-wig, yet still buys generic paper towels. I can’t figure that shit out.

My Mom and Dad: Died when I was in my early 20’s, and I often dream about them or refer back to them when I need someone to blame when I’m miserable. Yes, they really did look like the Queen and Prince Philp—to a frightening degree—and there are family rumors that we’re related to European royalty, but then again, who isn’t?. When they were alive, my father was a pragmatic, left-brain accountant; my mother was a singer/artist/spendthrift. Both were alcoholics. Being constantly mistaken for royalty, can you blame them?

My Brothers: Also much older than myself, living half a country away, I rarely see or hear from either of them. They’re truly cut from the same cloth: both are handsome and talented photographers as well as fervent defenders of the right to bear arms, and they love to debate movie trivia with me. They’re also both excellent Trivial Pursuit players, but always lose on the “Arts and Entertainment” questions. One is now in law enforcement, the other used to be a drug runner for the Columbian mafia—can you guess which one is which?

My Boss: A decent guy who should have never risen to management, he’s made a mess of things at my office to the point where I wish I wasn’t there most of the time (thus am frequently absent).

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THE BAD GUYS WE NO LONGER SPEAK TO:

HWSNBN (short for “he who shall not be named”, nee “M”): We no longer speak (as of 9/8/08), but he was once my best friend. Handsome and gregarious, HWSNBN is a narcissistic former professional actor who destroyed our business, put me in a nervous breakdown coma for two months, and thinks the world revolves around him because most of the time, somehow, it does. HWSNBN is gay and has a Life Partner who’s a really eccentric D-list chef. HWSNBN is infamous for never keeping his promises and never following through on his plans, thus most of his numerous enterprises fail or remain unfinished.

Vidal: An old friend of HWSNBN, big gay Vidal hails from the Big City as an artist/landscape designer/quasi-famous Broadway and film makeup and hairstylist to the stars. He lived with his mother until her death a year ago at the age of 96, and has most recently moved to a big, brokedown mansion in our fair hamlet, halfway between HWSNBN’s house and my own brokedown palace. Vidal loves to drop names, tell stories, and have tea parties and dinner parties which I am no longer invited to. Vidal gave me my first short haircut in 20 years on Christmas Eve 2007, marking the official end to my best friendship with HWSNBN and the official beginning to my rocky road to recovery. My hair is growing out now and feeling super, thanks for asking. (note: Vidal is not his real name; the real Vidal Sassoon is and was, to my knowledge, straight.)

Miss Daisy: My nemesis and professional party-pooper friend of HWSNBN, Daisy (fortunately) doesn’t make too many appearances on this blog. Daisy is a very portly, unattractive woman in the medical field who stage managed on several of our shows, and whose business is failing since her partner screwed her over (it was actually mostly Daisy’s fault), during which time she failed to get pregnant with donated sperm. I originally suspected HWSNBN was the donor, but that turned out to be untrue. She has worked hard to drive a wedge between HWSNBN and me since day one and has succeeded admirably.

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I’ll add to this list as I think of people to incorporate.