The Secret Life of Talula McPeach

...in which the most top-secret, mortifying events are chronicled for the benefit of the world.

archives:

( 7:42 PM )

Dear World, Guess who just called me on the phone. Eric, that's who! Eric the guy in LA that I visited but we didn't have enough sex because of too drunk to fuck. Well now he wishes we had had more sex so next time we are not supposed to get so drunk. Next time is going to have to be up here though, because I am too broke to go down to LA even if I only pay one-way. Anyway the reason he called was to tell me his exciting news that he is leaving his band John Boy 9 because he auditioned for another band called The BellRays and he got in! Remember he is a drummer. That is actually a really great gig. I am actually impressed! Not like I wasn't impressed before. I mean, I am always impressed by my indie rock friends. Usually anyway. But this band looks like fun. Actually I've never heard of them before but that doesn't mean they aren't famous! In other news, my baby rats Willow and Tara are soooooo cute... I am trying to teach them their names now. It's the first thing. I teach them their names by calling them and then whoever's name it was gets a treat. I am a little bit worried now that Jon isn't going to help me train them now that we have slept together, but I'll wait and give it some time before I totally freak out because maybe right now he's just been really busy with work or something. He's still supposed to work on my site, too. I know he has worked on my new banner. I am going to owe him more than a couple ice cream cones.

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( 11:01 AM )

Dear World, Apparently some people don't believe that Talula McPeach is my real name. I have heard weirder names! I don't understand why anyone would take the energy to disbelieve me. But I guess I never did explain myself. Well, I got my name directly from my dad, whose name is of course Mike McPeach. My mom is a bitch and would not take his name when they got married. Not that I think she should have, speaking feministly, but just because she thought it was so weird. I mean why marry him if you don't like something so basic about him as his name? I guess maybe so you have a reason to be a crab throughout your entire marriage is the answer. Anyway back before I was born (long time ago) in the sixties my mom was about to become a teacher but my dad was protesting the war. His name was Mike McDonald. But lots of people were changing their names to Butterfly or Peacemobile or whatever, and Dad decided to change his name to "Mike McPeace" instead of McDonald. He says in those days it was really cheap to change your name so he went to court to do it legally and all he had to do was pay about twenty bucks and fill out some forms and see the judge. So he did it, and then he got home with his new name certificate and he realized they had made a typo and put an "h" and the end instead of an "e" and he wondered if they did that on purpose just to make fun of him and he could have gone back to make them fix it but then he decided it would make kind of a statement about how they are always fucking with you, plus I guess he got stoned and lost his motivation to go back, so he just kept the name McPeach and then he started to think it was funny. But it was his real true legal name, so that is the real true legal name that is on my real true birth certificate and that is the end of the story. Except!!! In Wicca we give ourselves different names sometimes and my Wiccan name is Talula McPeace. I think it makes total sense! It's sort of like coming full-circle. Meanwhile remember that old movie "Foxes" where Annie the drug addict girl with all the problems wants to be buried under a tree? I forget what kind. At the end Jodie Foster is talking about it and how she'd take a bite from the fruit of that tree and say "Mmm, Annie's tasting good this year!" Well I think that... well I don't really want to talk about my dad dying. But if and when he goes I am going to have him buried under a peach tree. I mean he'll have to be creamated so I can plant a peach tree and mix his ashes in the dirt. Then Mike McPeach will be a real peach! And no one will make fun of our name anymore. But this means I have to figure out where the tree could go because I don't own any land of course. I am afraid that if I planted it anywhere that I didn't own, someone would come chop it down. I should work toward buying a ten-foot-square plot of earth here in Oakland. How would I do that?

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