Having just read CHILDLESS AND LOVING IT (not the real name, but, I hope, the intent) I too, am also without kiddies and without husbands or divorces.
And I'm 57 years old, pretty much loving it (wrinkles I could do without as with arthritis) and I feel fairly accomplished about never married, and no children. Yes, I've been pregnant. So, I've just made some, if not enemies than emphatic disagree'ers.
.Now maybe that po' me stuff- the AADs and nearsightedness - makes it okay to just tell the good stuff I got in the birth package without undo modesty.
So, I was able to play piano (that was me at the school assembly playing 'Exodus' every year). Later, taught myself guitar, played alot of Joni Mitchell. And though I couldn't sing like her, or anyone else you'd want to listen to, sing I did. Mostly in my bedroom.
I saw I could draw - enough to get my Art teachers to make a fuss - and write well enough to get published once or thrice. Also made my living writing promotion for S&S.
I received a triple threat in the Arts. Graduated with a BA in English (something no one in my state, Florida, wants to learn it seems) Summa Cum Loudmouth. This distinction gives me the hoots since I was always called "meek the squeek" by my not so darling Grandmother and was generally the Listener in my family.
Competition did not come naturally to me and that's just what saying anything to my family took. Meanwhile, my brother got laughs on car trips saying louder what I'd just mumbled.
Back to graduation from college in Buffalo, where it's very cold 10 months of the year, on a frosty June day of my last days in school, I decided my watercolors showed that I was a talented and unique illustrator which meant I had to go live with my Dad.
So, cut to lots of years later; I found myself on the stage of one "Trubbles Comedy Club" in Manhattan. An all-girls revue. I mean venue. So I was not so meek anymore. And I did all the smaller clubs in Manhattan and Brooklyn and eventually worked my way up to Lower Upstate New York and even got paid.
The whole Standup thing only happened because of the Writers Guild Strike of '89. It seemed like just the right time to go to LA and sell my 'MoonLighting' script. I didn't realize that it meant I'd be a Strike Breaker. I wasn't really a TV writer or anything.
Wasn't such a good idea, turns out. Not so much. I totally believed in this strike as great TV, film, radio, plays - everything - depends on great writing. Little known secret: Arnold Schwartzenegger and most other actors do not write the lines as they speak them.
So no TV writing. Though, I had a great time living in a Sunset Strip motel, with, mostly, professional daters. Me, I'd just blast show tunes all night, and hunt for word processing jobs by day.
Eventually, Los Angeles, the Hollywood Hillswas my home. And a certain type became my good friends. Great, nice kids, but there, I never met a youngish (I was 34) person there who was just one thing.
They were all hyphenates; Director-Actor-Makeup Person-Wall Washer-Gaffer. Whatever was called for. And so I was called upon or dragged to a round of auditions. One was for a Game Show called 'SweetHearts' hosted by the great late Charles Nelson Reilly and I got the part.
Well, it was a part. They'd have 3 couples, 2 fake and 1 real. I was part of one of the fake couples. We got all three celebrities to vote us the real couple. Even Ned Beatty!
Because I hated this guy and showed it. He was a giant next to my elven smallness, a sandals-with-white socks wearer; and a bad smeller. He was also the idiot who thought that since we
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