If you get my newsletter, you already know this. (And if you don’t get my newsletter, why don’t you? Sign up here.) Yesterday was my birthday. I share a birthday with Robert Downey Jr. Every year when I blow out my candles, the wish goes something like this…
I close my eyes, wish that someone with Hollywood connections and six degrees of separation to Kevin Bacon works their magic, contacts Kevin Bacon, who then contacts RDJ’s agent, who calls the man himself, who then feels generous and calls me. After the obligatory, “No, it’s really me,” part of the conversation, he insists on Facetime, and then I’m mortified, because my hair is up in a clip, I have no makeup on, and I’m wearing baggie jammie pants and a stained but oh-so-soft-and-comfortable t-shirt. (What do you expect? I’m a writer.)
RDJ is gracious, of course, and says I look great for (coughing fit over my age). We talk about his ridiculous body of work which leads to my modest and meager one, which he feigns an interest in. Then, lo and behold, he asks me to send him a book. Even wants one autographed. We chat a little while longer, he blows me a kiss through the phone, and we hang up. My husband isn’t jealous because, one, like RDJ would leave his wife for me, and two, like I’d leave my husband for anyone, and three, it was just a blown kiss over a phone. Besides, it wasn’t the kiss that had me freaking out. It was the book. What should I write to him? And how cool that he asked for a book, right?
After agonizing forever over it, I wrote a pithy little note and sent the book off. Then I forgot all about it. I mean, come on. It was a huge moment in my life, but hardly a blip on RDJ’s radar, right?
He—not his agent, but the man himself—calls me a week later. He got the book, read it in one day, and loved it. He wants to make it into a movie AND star in it.
Well, once I came to, I of course said yes. Birthday wishes do come true.
And yes, that is my wish every year. And no, it has never come close to coming true. Which is why I have no problems sharing it with you. I’m clearly in no danger of jinxing my wish by sharing it.
But I did have a wonderful birthday. Lots of wonderful wishes from family and friends, near and far. One of my friends even found a picture from long, long ago and shared it with the world. (You can see it at the end of the post if you’re interested in viewing my junior high days. I tried to embed a Facebook link, but apparently I’m the only person on the planet incapable of doing so.) My daughter cooked me dinner and decorated me a cake. (See above for the results of that.) And I had a new book release, Love Set in Stone. If you like romance, suspense, intrigue, action, Pittsburgh (who doesn’t?), gargoyles, angels, sarcastic banter, and/or strong relationships, you might want to check this one out.
Okay, well, that was my yesterday. How was yours? Let’s chat. In the meantime, I’ll end with the aforementioned junior high photo. My daughter laughed and said I look like one of the Pink Ladies from Grease. I don’t know about that, but I do look different. Yes, it was the 1980s (not the 1950s despite what my daughter thought), and no, I won’t reveal the identities of the ladies who were with me. (I always protect the innocent.) I’m the one on the right. Wow, we thought we were sooooo cool. I’m not really sure what we were thinking with those haircuts and flipped collars, though.