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Authors: Carrie Fisher

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BOOK: Postcards From the Edge
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C A R R I E F I S H E R

I’m here. I can’t miss any more opportunities. And she’d talk to me. It’s like the changing of the guard of the new drugless generation. She’s going out and I’m staying in.

I’m sure there’s a lot of things we have in common. We could talk about not liking Stan. We could talk about Carl. We can’t talk to Carl because he never shuts up, but we could talk about Carl. I don’t know, and Sid. I could ask her if she misses Sid. Hey, we know a lot of the same people …

DAY TWENTY-NINE

At lunch Wanda said to me, “God, I really envy you being in all those movies. You really have it all.” I liked the concept of being envied by someone in a drug clinic while actually in a drug clinic.

Sometimes I don’t think I was made with reality in mind. And now I can look forward to an eternal, open-ended reality. A reality that dreams me without waking. Unrelieved reality. Some might call it a challenge, others a sentence. Whatever you call it, though, we here in the rehab-the newly clean and sober-belong to it as completely as slaves. Reality’s puppies. Nomads, yes-men, kings.

… All right, all right, it’s park time. That horrible nurse is taking us to the park, the one with the shrill cartoon voice who clicks her keys on my door. On the other hand, maybe this is a good character: the Annoying Nurse. She could be a good antagonist for my protagonist.

How do I look? Shit, this sweater still smells. Well, I can’t worry about it. This is my last chance. I’m gonna talk to Suzanne and today’s the day. Here we go. God, this is so pathetic, with everyone waiting by the nurses’ station to go …

There she is! Oh, God, and she’s got her suitcase by her door. It’s like the end of camp. Drug camp. We should be making drug lanyards. Okay, here we go. Who can I latch on to so I seem like a

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POSTCARDS from the EDGE

part of it? I’m so out of it. If I’d done this before, this would be more natural and … Wait, there’s Carol.

“Hi, Carol. No, I feel better. I … I fucked up. Yeah. I’ve been on Inderal for a couple of days. They say my heartbeat is very accelerated. Anxiety? No, maybe it’s from the cocaine leaving my system:” That sounded stupid.

“It’s probably from anxiety.” Okay! Now!

“Hi. Hi, Suzanne:”

God, I should have said more. What else can I … Don’t look down at your feet. You don’t smell, you don’t smell. You look fine. “Yeah, we haven’t really officially met. Yeah. I heard you’re going home today. You nervous at all? Yeah. Yeah, I was nervous when I went home. That’s true, I didn’t really go home like you’re going home. So, do you think you’ll come back and visit people?”

That’s dumb. I sound so desperate. Just be cool.

“You have any work lined up? Do you think it hurt your career to be a drug addict? Yeah, I guess it would. I guess it would. So, the park. Going to the park:”

Fuck, I can’t think of anything to say. What do you say? Tell her she looks good. I can’t. What will she think I’m trying to do, date her?

“So, you’re coming back to your group meetings next week. That’s smart, that’s very smart. Maybe I should do that. I mean, after I leave. You think I should? I’d like to know what you think I should do, because . . :”

I’m sounding like such a putz. Like Jim Nabors or something. Jesus! Just keep forging ahead.

“… I mean, you being the senior here at drug college and me for all intents and purposes a freshman . . :”

That sounded good. Okay, get on that roll.

“… Um, you know, I feel like you’re graduating, and I’m sort of new blood, you know, I don’t know all the rules. Is there anything you’d suggest? I mean, obviously, other than not doing drugs? Uhhuh, yeah. Let me ask you, what do you think of Stan? Really? I

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don’t know, I find him … Can I be frank about this? I think he’s very unpleasant. There was that one day we almost did have a conversation … Yeah, and I felt he was out of line. I mean, not that there are any lines in the clinic. I don’t mean that like a coke pun . . :’ Aauugh, she’s gonna think I’m a real moron.

… You know, it doesn’t seem like there are any rules here other than not taking drugs, but I do think courtesy and decency could … I mean, as bad as I ever got on dope, I think I was always very cordial to everybody. Certainly, my dealers liked me. I mean, that sounds like a joke, but it’s true. My dealers did like me. So, um ..:’

Say something. Don’t let the air go dead. If you don’t keep talking she’ll walk away. She’s an actress, they like to talk and … “What are you going to do about your career? You know, I wanted to talk to you about that. I mean, I know this sounds like I’m a moron in a drug clinic, right? But I don’t know if you know that I’m a writer and, um, I’ve just been chasing around this idea about maybe writing something about this and maybe you could take a look at it. Yeah, a script, and maybe you’d want to be in it. I mean, I don’t want to bother you . . :”

Don’t say stuff like that. Learn how to sell yourself.

“You would? You’d read it? That would be great. Well, I haven’t written it yet. I mean, you know, I like to get a lot of it in my mind first, and then when I think I’ve got the whole thing I put it down on paper. It just comes out. At least, I hope so. I haven’t tried to write without drugs yet. A journal? Really? You keep a journal? Was it your idea or … ? Uh-huh. And we don’t have to turn it in or anything at the end? That’s a good idea. So, do you write about … ? You write about people? You mean like Sid and Carl and everyone? Yeah, that sounds good:”

Look at her, she’s bored out of her mind. I’m gonna fucking kill myself.

“The swings? Sure. I mean, aren’t we too large? Won’t our legs go down in the sand and … ?”

Go! She asked you to go to the swings with her. Go!

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POSTCARDS from the EDGE

“You want me to push you? I would be honored to push you in the swing. Should we ask that little boy to get off or … ? Do you see his mother anywhere? Oh, there’s one free, those little girls are leaving. Okay, I’ll push you. That’ll be great. It’ll be how I see you off. I’ll sort of push you off:”

Another bad pun. She’ll never read your script. Just stay with it, though, don’t keep apologizing. She must hate me now. I sound like someone who wears Vitalis.

“Okay, here we go. Here we go:”

I’ll never forget this in my whole life. I’m making anecdotal history. I’m pushing Suzanne Vale on a swing. People will think we’re in love. Maybe we can be in love.

“Is that high enough?”

Don’t make any puns on the word high. Just let it go. Be quiet. Listen to the wind, the trees …

“This is nice, isn’t it?”

Shhhh! Don’t talk. Just enjoy the moment. Be totally in the moment. I hope no one else comes over. I want to burn this image into my brain. I’m pushing Suzanne Vale on a swing in the park next to the drug clinic …

DAY THIRTY

I spent the morning in the park with Alex. He’s not a bad guy, really-but he’s not a great guy, really, either. He did push me in the swing for a very long time, though. There are two things that I know for certain guys are good for: pushing swings and killing insects.

It’s such a bizarre scene in my mind: the guy junkie pushing the girl junkie in this little kiddie swing with all these little kids squealing and running around, with their mothers sitting on the benches watching. All those little children and two huge ones.

Alex told me he’s writing a script about the clinic. Being here is probably the most colorful thing that ever happened to him.

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C A R R I E F I S HER

He should call it Rehab! “Just when you thought it was safe to go back into your coke vial.”

I can’t wait to drive! Maybe I’ll go to the movies tonight. I heard Doctor’s Orders was pretty good. Anyway I’ve enjoyed writing this journal. Maybe I should start keeping one at home. It would have to be good, though, in case they publish it after my death.

Sid and I are going to an AA dance in the valley on Thursday. Maybe I’m going overboard, but what the hell …

I must be brainwashed, because it feels so clean when I think.

Notes on Rehab Movie

Suzanne left today. I feel really good about the connection we made in the park. It took a long time, but I think it was worth waiting for. I’m glad she didn’t get to know me before, when I was such a creep. She’s great. If she lost just five pounds, I’d marry her.

I think her suggestion that I keep a journal for my script was a good one. I wish I could see her journal. She’s no writer or anything, but she is Suzanne Vale. I wonder if she’ll publish it.

I wonder if there’s anything in it about me …

 

*

A BANQUET OF CRUMBS

 

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I was in a production meeting. Did my secretary call you?”

“She did,” she said. “It’s all right, I brought my book.” “What are you reading?” he said. “Maybe I can option it. Oh, great. Siddhartha.”

“Actually, I’m re-reading it,” she said.

“A smart actress,” he said. “I love it. What’s your IQ? Mine’s one forty-eight.”

“A genius producer,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “For all the good it does me in this town.”

“I love that they call it a ‘town,’ ” she said. “I imagine there’s like a dry goods store, and a clock tower, and a postman: ‘Hey, good mornin’, Mr. Phelps, how are ya? How’s that rheumatism?’ The ‘town’ of Hollywood. Tinseltown. ‘Howdy, I’m the mayor of Tinseltown, and I’m here to welcome you to our fair city. How are ya?”’

“Funny, too,” he said. “Andrea was right. I’m gonna like you.

“So,” she said. “Do you remember your college board scores, too?”

“Six ninety-six on the English,” he said. “Seven sixty-six on

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the math. I went out with this girl once who told me she wanted to stick her tongue in my mouth to get closer to my brain. She was a bimbo.”

“How did you meet Andrea?” she said. “Through Candy” he said.

“Oh, yeah, she’s great,” she said. “When I was little, I always wanted to look like her. You know, growing up in L.A., there’s such an emphasis on looks. I mean, even in school, I decided what I was gonna wear the next day before I did my homework. There was this girl in my class, Beth Ann Finnerman, whose knee socks always stayed up, and mine seemed to sort of rumple toward the ankles. And I really thought my life would be better if I could do things like have my knee socks stay up.” “Well,” he said. “You look fine to me.”

“I’ve recently found,” she said, “that to keep up my appearance, it has to be through health. I used to think this was corny, but I guess ‘healthy’ equals `attractive’ now, you know?” “Should we order?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “I realize I’m talking a lot, but I don’t want you to think I’m nervous. Maybe I am, but I don’t want you to think I am. I skipped lunch today, and whenever I do that I get really wanged out. Also, I should tell you that I’m on Pritikin. My cholesterol is way up. I could have steamed vegetables or a little protein, like chicken. I mean, I’m not like a fanatic, I’m just trying out the Pritikin thing. Anyway, I don’t go totally over the edge with this, but I do like to know. To be educated in these things, so when I do choose to eat a refined sugar or an oil or an animal fat product, I at least know what I’m doing. That I’m turning my arteries to pizza. And no eggs, ever.”

“You don’t-” he said.

“Oh, and I haven’t had any caffeine since I started meditating a week ago,” she said.

“You don’t have any eating disorders, do you?” he said. “Actually, I’m a failed anorexic,” she said. “I have anorexic thinking, but I can’t seem to muster the behavior.”

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POSTCARDS from the EDGE

“I dated a girl for a while,” he said. “It turned out she was bulimic, which I didn’t know at the time, but she had a great body. I guess that’s how she did it.”

“I could never be bulimic,” she said. “I could never make myself throw up.”

“You’re so open,” he said. “I like that.”

“In a woman?” she said. “Listen, it’s too complicated to order something special. We’re at Pasta Hello, I’ll just have the lasagna.”

“You’re sure?” he said. “Great. Waiter, two lasagnas, a Heineken, and … ?”

“Diet Coke,” she said.

“And one Diet Coke,” he said. “Thanks. You know, it’s interesting, you mentioned meditating. A transcendental state on an intense person must be really interesting. I wouldn’t think I’d be one to have a mild transcendental experience. I think I’d go straight for satori. I’ve done some reading on Zen. Certainly, if you could get it through reading, I would have it. Of course, if you go by Zen, it always comes down to, ‘I could make the movie, or not.’ That whole ‘or not’ thing. It’s like, how many Buddhists does it take to screw in a light bulb? Fourteen-seven to do it, and seven not to.”

“Did you hear about the Polish starlet who came to Hollywood?” she said. “She slept with all the writers.”

“Yeah, I know that one,” he said. “I love it. Before I forget, I’ve always thought you had a tremendous quality. I loved you in Mist on the Lake, particularly that scene when you’re standing on the cliff in that diaphanous dress and all that hair, just staring. I gotta tell you, I got hard. And not from your cleavage, from your performance. I mean, you were even good in Porky’s Nerds, and I would have said that was impossible. So, I mean, we’re not talking Pia Zadora here. You’ve got good chops. How did a smart girl like you wind up acting?”

“My shrink, Norma, says it has something to do with not getting enough affection as a child,” she said. “So I’m trying to

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make up for it by getting as much attention as I can now. That’s why I have a very seductive nature. Because, you know, you go off on a lot of calls, and you meet people for a brief period of time, and it’s very important to cram your entire personality into that meeting so they’ll really want you for the job. Even after you get successful it never gets any easier. You always have to please people. Fill their every possible fantasy about you. And you can never show that it’s hard, so you’re always looking like you’re having the best time, and everybody thinks they’re your soulmate. And you don’t feel comfortable with anybody.”

BOOK: Postcards From the Edge
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