UPDATE: I told Fortinbras where the state of More was located. He says that he can see it from his office across the Thames. Anyway, he is pleased and says that when he gets back to NYC, he will “award me my prize.” I am not sure whether to be happy or terrified. If I said that to a sub, I’d have something up my sleeve for sure. lol
THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP, READERS! XOXOXO
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Mr. Crush is driving me nuts. How could I have not foreseen that a man whose purpose in our initial meeting was to haggle about my boundaries, would end up being a problem? What a shocker, right? Why didn’t I see it coming? Because he was calm and placid and intelligent? Because he was sober and in AA? As if I didn’t know that AA is full of fruitbats? I should have known he’s be trouble the minute I saw that huge Norton Anthology of POSTMODERN POETRY in his apartment. Who in their right mind would voluntarily read postmodern poetry? Good God, I bet he’s published in it…
(He’s also a huge fan of David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest. Another huge red flag I ignored. A few of his short essays were okay, but my opinion of this author is mirrored here and here.)
Did I mention that I ran into him at a AA meeting? Cause I did. You saw that coming, right? Of course you did.
I almost crapped my pants (this was after our first session together). I was hoping that he wouldn’t notice me, but of course he did. If he had the tact that God gave a goat, he would have know that it was Something Never To Be Spoken Of. But our sad divorced fan of postmodern poetry, in the thralls of his crush on our idiot heroine Miss Margo, has no tact and seems to think our mutual presence in AA is something we can “bond” over.
He has been demoted from “Tolerable Client: Cell Phone Bill Ain’t Gonna Pay Itself” to “Client to be Seen Only in Times of Acute Financial Distress” to FIRED. Say “Hi” to Dave on Rejected, Fired Client Island, Mr. Crush.
He is going to find this, because he is searching Ye Olde Internet for me even at this very moment, I have no doubt. You might think that is vain of me to say that a client would want to, or even could, find my statistically-irrelevant blog in the ever-expanding universe of the internet, but I’ve had clients find me here. Four times, confirmed. 95% sure the Mathematician found it, but I couldn’t get him to confess, so the jury was unable to convict. I know the Surgeon never found it, because if he did, I would not be here typing this right now (for reasons which remain opaque to me, the Surgeon hates the internet. Probably because he can’t control it).
When he reads this, it is going to hurt his fe-fes. I hate to be mean, but oh well. I am still so irritated and aggravated that I can’t even publish the conclusion of the Tale of Mr. Crush. I’ve written three drafts and I can’t bring myself to publish them. Do you want to read them? Do you think it’s appropriate to write about him?
Forget it, let’s move on before I go crazy. LET’S DO SOMETHING FUN!
Readers: help a girl out! The jet-setting Fortinbras, who is in Tokyo or Copenhagen or Paris or other Fabulous Place (I can’t keep up), has given me an assignment. A sort of artistic Scavenger Hunt.
Where on Planet Earth is this statue? Can anyone help me out? Does anyone recognize it, or know someone who might?
I promised that I wouldn’t Google Images it, so you can’t either. Please don’t let me cheat.
It’s Thomas More, so intuition says London (or at least England), and I know that Fortinbras lives and works there sometimes. I also told him that I was going to the Frick this week…is this statue at the Frick? I’ve been to the Frick, but I don’t remember seeing it.
There has to be an association…this can’t be just some random Thomas More in Vatican City or Tibet or in Dr. Evil’s Secret Volcano Lair. I’d never find it.
I’ll ask Heinrich too. Art is his business.
Thank God Fortinbras is an extremely busy man and I am merely a recreational play toy (as it should be, as it should be), because if he found this blog I would have to kill myself, lol.