03 October 2011
five years ago, the guy i was dating then pushed my long black hair from my face, looked deep into my green eyes and, in a slow southern drawl, asked me: what is your biggest, wildest, most impractical, pie in the sky dream?
given that this inquiry came fast on the heels of him saying i was someone he would want to marry, the proper answer in this instance was probably a white picket fence. that, of course, didn't occur to me. i'm not all that proper.
and so i told him something so pie in the sky that i'd never told anyone before.
i want to make a documentary film on jackie and the tabloids.
he looked, first, confused then exceedingly let down. i knew i had done something wrong though i did not know what.
i'm in gregory's coffee in new york when a biographer leans across the table and says, this is, like, five years away, but i have to ask... would you be interested in doing a documentary on jackie and the tabloids?
my whole soul screams, HOLY SHIT.