Invitation Only

 My name is Cassandra. My employers, Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Windsor, are having an invitation only soiree tonight for the Blue Book crowd. You know, the ritsy social register kind of people? THAT Blue Book. Guess what? Unknown to them, I, Cassandra Nobody, will be among their honored guests. The best part? They won't even know it is me! (Haha!)

The Windsors' lovely daughter, Margaret? Margaret is bored with fancy costume parties that she's required to attend to keep up appearances for her parents. Margaret wanted to attend another event with a young gentleman, who shall remain nameless. So, I, Cassandra, ended up with Margaret's designer costume to wear to the event. In addition, I'll be well fed and entertained. Oh, and did I mention, Margaret gave me real sterling silver jewelry and actual money besides?! Whoever HE is, it sure was awfully important to Miss Margaret, wasn't it now? I wondered how she was going to get out of the house in the first place. But I'm not complaining. That's her little problem to deal with, as far as I'm concerned. Ask no questions. I'm just the kitchen help, you understand.

Just this afternoon, I came down with a terrible case of the flu, don't you know? None of the staff wants to catch it. The Windsors CAN'T have kitchen staff contaminating any food or drinks for their lofty friends. So..... I am in my own comfortable quarters, to rest. I was even given a bottle of brandy, on the condition that I quarantined myself away from everyone else.

Let's see what Margaret's costume looks like. Luckily we are about the same size.... Margaret told me that she was going as the Lady of the Lake, straight out of Arthurian legend. (You know.....King Arthur, Guinevere, Lancelot, Merlin, Morgan le Fay, that kind of thing.....)

Wow! Her costume is just beautiful! Fortune smiled upon me to even look upon it. Gossamer silk, light as air, in a shade of blue that truly is the sea incarnate! It looks as though it has silver lights running through it.....cloth of silver, finer than any cloth of gold ever dared to be. It is truly exquisite, to the point of taking my breath away when I touch or gaze upon it. I can't believe that I am getting the chance to wear anything like it.

The slippers that complete the costume are of a blue a shade darker than the dress, with silver satin heels. There is a tiny deep blue sapphire stone on the top of each slipper. They are utterly elegant. Any Lady of the Lake would be fortunate to possess them.

The tiny sapphire pendant that Margaret gave me will be perfect with it.

Let's see. I've looked at my costume. Where's the invitation?

It is true that Margaret herself wouldn't really need one, but to insure that I would be able to assume her place in her stead, she brought me one of the engraved invitations and replies that the guests had received.

"If you have any trouble, show the doorman this.", Margaret had told her. In her hands were a small silver-edged card, that matched the invitations. I clasped it in my hands carefully.

Cassandra was going Invitation Only.

Brooklyn Starlight

 Platinum blonde, glistening in the moonlight

Dancing on Arthur's terrace

Alone with him while the party goes on inside without us

For a perfect time, no one notices.....

We will dance and drink champagne until they do.

Winter Snow in New York

 Arthur and Marilyn left their Brooklyn townhouse around ten that cold Thursday morning. The plan was to have a leisurely drive to the old country inn that Arthur had found for them for a long weekend. He'd taken great pains with the plans for their weekend.

Marilyn wasn't really concerned about the details; he had said that he would handle them, and she had been so stressed and exhausted lately that she didn't really ask him all that much about anything. She was just glad that he was. All of the necessary recent secrecy had taken its toll on her.

Marilyn had dressed warmly, in black slacks and a fuzzy black sweater, her figure encased in a white fur. A black leather purse strap hung loosely from her left shoulder. She'd insisted on bringing Blackjack, her Jack Russell terrier, with her for the trip, and she was carrying him in her arms.

She breathed a sigh of relief that no reporters were waiting outside when they came outside. It always seemed that they had an inside track to their plans.

Arthur helped her into the car, and then

walked to the driver's side. All of the things that they were taking with them from here were already in the car. Arthur had made arrangements for anything else that they might want or need to be at the inn upon their arrival.

At first neither of the pair spoke. Arthur simply drove, and Marilyn petted Blackjack. But it wasn't a stilted silence; it was rather a companionable one.

Marilyn opened a book for poetry and began reading. After awhile,

Arthur asked her to light him a cigarette, and she did. He wrapped his right arm around her, as she slid it between his lips.

Marilyn snuggled closer, and laid her head on his shoulder. Blackjack had taken it upon himself to hop into the back seat of the car, and was curled up for a nap.

She had her hand on the knob of the radio to turn some music on, but thought better of it. While music was welcome, news reports might not be.

About halfway into their trip, Marilyn was just about to ask Arthur if they could stop so that she could go to the bathroom, when he made a left turn, off the main road.

"Where are we going?", she asked.

"Wait and see.", he replied. The hint of a smile curved his lips.

"Is there a bathroom where we are going?", she asked.

He laughed lightly. "I imagine that there is."

A few minutes later, he parked their car under huge shade trees.

To Marilyn, it looked like a forest. It was only when they got out of the car (Blackjack was on his burnished leather leash), that she saw an old farmhouse. As they approached, she saw restaurant sign, and her face brightened.

"Lunch?", she asked hopefully. "I'm starving."

Nevermind the bathroom, right this minute.

Brief amusement crossed her husband's face, but he nodded.

"I thought you might enjoy it."

Marilyn hurried to the bathroom as soon as they were inside, and then they were shown to their table, near the fireplace.

She slid the fur off her shoulders in the chair that she was seated in, and Blackjack curled up at her feet. She'd insisted on water and a blanket for him. Of course, he could share something from lunch.

Arthur teased Marilyn lightly about something or other, and she laughed that impossibly feminine laugh of hers, which never failed to entrance him.

Lunch was salade nicoise, a loaf of crusty, golden French bread with herbed butter, and a bottle of French Chardonnay. Dessert was creme brulee.

"It's just wonderful here!", Marilyn said softly. "Thank you. "

Arthur smiled. "I am pleased that you liked it. ". His eyes lingered on his beautiful wife for a few moments, and then he asked, "Are you ready to leave now?"

"Almost." She flushed light pink. "I need to visit the bathroom again."

She added. "It's a girl thing."

Arthur smiled. "Don't I know it." He hesitated for a minute, then added, "I like it."

"Really??", she asked breathlessly. Her eyes met his.

"Really.", he assured her, and clasped her hands in his, then kissed them.

Once they were back in the car with Blackjack, and on their way, Marilyn fell asleep. For whatever reason, Arthur found it oddly pleasing to watch her sleep. He found it hard to keep his mind on driving.

Once they'd arrived at the inn where they were staying, Arthur laid a hand over on his wife, to awaken her.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. Guess I was really tired.", she said, as she stretched a little.

Her eyes widened a little when she saw the inn that they were to stay at for the weekend. "It's perfect.", she said softly.

Just as they were out of the car, and the door of the old inn, soft snow began to fall. Marilyn giggled happily as it fell on her face.

Always Late for Something

 Marilyn had been late all day, for everything and everywhere that she was supposed to arrive. She sighed, and shrugged. People always said that about her, anyway. It just happened that today it was true. She was tired, and was very glad when she'd finished the appointments and commitments that she had for the day.

When she arrived for this special-- and very secret-- appointment that she had, she noticed a snowflake that landed on her black wool coat. She shivered a little as the cold New York wind blew around her, and seemed to permeate her clothing.

Marilyn took the elevator up to the appropriate floor. She had on a black hat, scarf, and dark glasses to hide her face, and signature platinum hair, but she was relieved that she was the only person there. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to recognize her right now. If what she suspected was true, the news would leak out quickly enough. News always did about her, especially anything regarding her personal life; it was the way of things. And this was most definitely personal. It was just that she would like to be able to confirm that it was true, inform Arthur, and have a little bit of time to relax and relish the news before the press was all over both of them about it.

The elevator reached the floor that her doctor's office was on, and she stepped off carefully. She shivered again. It felt as cold in here to her as it had outside just now, when she'd seen the snowflake. Hopefully the doctor would have heat in the exam room....or at least a warm blanket. Maybe she could have some warm tea.

Because of her previous attempts with Arthur at having a family, she hadn't mentioned to him her suspicions this time, and, as he was currently very busy on some rewrites that needed to be done very quickly on his upcoming play, and she herself had been busy with her own full schedule of public appearances, she didn't think he'd noticed the signs that she had. In fact, she'd waited longer than she usually did to even make a doctor's appointment about it. Maybe this time they would be among the fortunate.

It is not that she didn't expect some issues with a pregnancy. At this point, that seemed a foregone conclusion to her. But she was hoping that she would indeed be able to carry, and give birth to, Arthur's child. She very much wanted a family. While on some level, she knew that Arthur did not feel about her as she did him, she DID believe that he cared about her, and that they could have a family together. She herself wasn't so very concerned about whether her child was a daughter or a son, but she knew that Arthur was. But in that, he was really not so different than a lot of men.

Marilyn knew that if she found out she was carrying Arthur's child this afternoon, she herself would tell Hollywood that she was taking some time for herself, and Arthur, and their coming family. She was fairly confident that she would have Arthur's backing, and he had his way of being able to get the press to back off at times, in a way that she herself knew that she could not do.

She opened the door of the doctor's office, and walked to the receptionist. It was late in the day, and so just as she smiled at the receptionist, the one patient waiting was taken to a room by a nurse. She had kind of planned the timing of her appointment, hoping that it would be this way.

The only sound in the office was some soft background instrumental music playing. She sat down in an overstuffed black leather chair that was near the door where patients were called, and waited. Not exactly patiently, but she was calm enough. At least it was warmer in here than in the elevator.

She figured that her waiting time would feel like an eternity to her, but it seemed that no sooner than she had sat down in the chair than the nurse motioned for her to come with her.

Once she was in the exam room, the nurse asked her a few questions, and took a urine and a blood sample, then excused herself while Marilyn removed her clothes and put on a robe in preparation for the doctor to examine her.

Once she was undressed, Marilyn shivered again, but there was a warm blanket for her, and she wrapped it around her.

A few minutes later, the doctor knocked, and then entered the room. He asked Marilyn a few questions, and then examined her.

When he finished, he left the room so that Marilyn could dress, and asked her to come to his office, next door to the exam room. Marilyn searched his face eagerly for any sign of what he might tell her, but even to her sharp eyes, it was unreadable. But innately she knew that this time it wasn't a false alarm or bad news.

She dressed as quickly as she could, and walked next door to his office.

"Please sit.", he said quietly. He was half-way turned around, but he had turned around to acknowledge her presence in his office.

Marilyn was filled with anticipation; her face showed it, and he smiled.

"Well???", she finally asked. "Am I?"

"I would say to Mrs. Miller. Better late than never. "

The words might have sounded unkind to her, if not for the smile on his face. He was honestly happy for her. Very few patients were quite as eager as this one.

It turns out that she was further along than she has suspected, which he explained was good news to her. But he also ordered rest and relaxation, and minimal stress for her.

"Oh, I promise, I promise, doctor!", she said happily. Impulsively, in signature Marilyn fashion, she kissed his cheek.

He told her that he would like to see her frequently, and asked her to return within two weeks. He seemed to sense her unspoken question, and took her hands in his, gently.

"I see no reason not to tell him, Marilyn. Trust me; everything's going to be fine this time."

Twitter

Facebook

Starry Night

 There is nothing quite so amazing as a Winter Solstice ushered in by shining silvery stars in a midnight sky. Starry night, anyone?

Here's Hoping

 I've been searching my whole life for love, and at long last, I think I have finallly found it with Arthur! Hope for the best! Keep a good thought for us! I thought I had found it with Joe, but I could never be the Golden MM Goddess and the perfect Italian housewife all at the same time.....there just wasn't any time to be human me. 

I truly believe this time that I have found someone who loves ME!

It is true that the MM sex goddess packaging attracted him, but I secretly like to think that its the real, human me, Norma Jean, that keeps him here, with me. 

He doesn't seem to mind my wanting to read, and grow, and learn new things. Joe always seemed to feel threatened by that. 

I know that he doesn't love me the way, or as much, as I love him, but I do think he cares about me, and it is enough. It is more than I have ever had from anyone else. Here's hoping! Time will tell.

I really did the conversion to Judaism just to please him. It matters to him in a way it does not to me. I know he wants a son. While maybe I am not who he wants children with, maybe he will want them in some way, just the same. I know I will love and want any children we have, whether he does or not. But a part of me hopes he will want them too. Maybe, just maybe, I can ddo this right for him. And he will want me. 

His family hates the idea of us being married. So does Hollywood. Everyone is against us. Milton too. I hope I have enough love and strength for both of us. 

It has been horrible, having to pretend like the car "accident"/ hit didn't happen, an event which cost me our child. It devastated me that Arthur did not mourn with me. Maybe I am wrong to stay with him. He seems to care so little for me. It was his son, too.....

only I am not even sure that he even believed that it was his. Yet another devastation.

But here we are, having a ceremony, and celebration, with the somewhat frosty and stoic attendees. I am happy enough to make up for most of them. Although it makes me sick, thinking of the photo shoot that we have to endure with Milton to make things look pristine white and virginal for Hollywood. Arthur and I are already planning to drink champagne and wine all night before we have to do it, so that we have a buzz while Milton does the pictures for the spectacle. At least I have the advantage of wearing that silly veil. Arthur doesn't.....everyone will see that he had a hangover, and isn't looking his best. We both are.

I hate Connecticut..... obviously, I do not have a plave there, with Arthur's mother and his children. I just had to endure the pictures being made. 

Arthur doesn't really seem all that eager to be there himself. He usually likes for us to stay in the city, or rent cottages in upstate New York, which is fine with me. I hate Connecticutt. 

I am kind of ashamed to admit it, but I had to get a little buzzed on Dom Perignon champagne to be able to go through with this ceremony , and the subsequent picture taking and well-wishers. No one really wishes us well, as a couple, and it is a strain for me to pretend that they do. It is all a big joke.

I try to pretend that Arthur is with me because  he loves me and wants to be with me, but if I am perfectly honest, I know that it is not the case. I privately think that he will tire of me soon enough. I really think that he already has. A wound to my heart, for I do love him, even as I know that he does not love me. But for a time, I will have him with me. Hopefully I will let him go with grace. It is never pleasant to be unwanted and discarded. One of the ironies.....the golden sex goddess, truly wanted and loved by no one. Worshippers only wanted to possess her, as chattel. A new toy to play with, an amusement, until she was broken or did not look perfect enough, or say or do the right things for her owner.

Noone wants Norma Jean.....noone wants Marily to be human. They want an illusion, something created that I cannot sustain for them.

I have such a heavy heart when I stop and think of it, but I try not to dwell on it. Hopefully, for a brief span of time-- maybe just an instant-- we can suspend time and place, and just be Arthur and Marilyn, and I can believe that he loves me as I adore him. 

I only ever wanted to please him. While I know that I am enough, I also know that to him, I just never will be. How long will I be able to be with him, with this terrible knowledge? Time will tell.

I try to think good thoughts for us, and hope others will as well, but a sense of grey foreboding tells me that our time is short, and we must enjoy it as we can. Time is short and the hour is late. Time and circumstance. 

Milton has a scowl on his face, even as he photographs us. Sometimes, just thinking about what we are faced with upon our marriage overwhelms and exhausts me. Arthur does not seem affected by it. He is among the fortunate. Perhaps.....

I am never sorry that I feel things. In the end, it may be my undoing. But while I am here, it is also my joy. 

Hold a good thought for me, is what I tell those who I think may care. Here's hoping! 

Showtime

 I can't believe it! Me, Marilyn! I am actually one of the nominees for an Oscar! It is actually the one good thing that came out of filming "The Misfits". A terrible time to go through; for me, anyway. No one else seemed that bothered by the things that happened. At the wrap party, I had visible bruises that even Whitey's magic couldn't hide, and no one seemed to mind them showing up in photographs. "The MM Girl was a party joke.

Arthur and Inge's relationship was all over the set; I was expected to pretend like I was oblivious to it. That was too much make-believe for me, particularly when Arthur was still expecting marital relations with me, too. 

Not only that, the miscarriage happened. A child that, even though he was sleeping with me, Arthur never really believed was his. Even though there was no question that it only ever was. at that point, the reality was, he truly just didn't want to believe that it was true.

It always devastated me that he didn't love me, or want children with me. I so very much wanted those things with him. The painful reality that I live with is that I could not make him love me, want to be with me, or have a family with me. That knowledge almost cost me everything. 

But in the end, it didn't, and so here I am, in front of my bedroom mirror, practicing for the things I will do and say when I accept an Academy Award for "The Misfits", for I already know I am going to win. It is just one of those things that I know. 

My first thought was that Arthur would be livid. He never wanted me to have a role at all in the film; certainly not the female lead.

The sour look on his face all during filming made it perfectly clear to everyone just how distasteful doing the screenplay was; he hated Hollywood. But he sure loved the money enough to put his distaste aside. So did Milton, and the others. Monty Clift was a little different. It seemed that he pretty much felt the same way as I did in some respects about it. Whoever truly profited from "The Misfits", it wasn't either one of us. 

There were so many egos-- male and female-- on that set. All i truly was trying to do was survive the war.

Anyway, that truly is past, and for some unfathomable reason, the powers that be at the Academy picked me as a nominee. I practice now because, after everything that I have been through up until now, I don't want to disappoint my audience. I just want to be wonderful, and allow any MM magic that I can muster to shine bright. 

I asked Joe to escort me, and even though he hates this kind of public spectacle, he actually agreed to escort me. On some level, I think he's a little proud of me. Besides, he doesn't exactly treat me the same as the Hollywood circuit, at least not now. We have come a long way since our married days. Why, sometimes, I can actually just be very human Marilyn, for a few brief moments. We've already made plans to have a late night supper in private after the awards. While I do plan on giving a spectacular show at the awards, and making an appearance at an after awards party for photos, it will be very brief. Shows like this exhaust me now. Besides, once the "official" photos are done, no one will really notice that I'm gone. It is another realization that I have made, over time. 

I expect Arthur and Inge will attend. There is really no reason that I need to interact with them. I think all of us are honestly relieved about that. 

I have decided on my own gown to wear for the festivities. I suppose it is one of the perks of "The Misfits" not being a standard studio orchestrated film. I think it will be nude-colored, form-fitting, with lots of glittery sparkles. I showed Joe a sketch of what I requested designed, and I saw that certain look in his eyes that told me I was right on the money, so to speak, in terms of what I have planned. I've spoken with Whitey, and we have a "while we're warm" understanding. 

Nothing but my signature red lipstick and Chanel No. 5 will do for such a momentous occasion, and a pair of Tiffany diamond stud earrings. 

Sinatra and champagne are supposed to be flowing at this de rigueur event, and my personal monogrammed glass is supposed to be on continual refill. After all, it's a party, isn't it???!

I suppose I will thank Milton, and Arthur, Monty, Mr. Gable, and the production company. Oh, and John Huston. Joe wouldn't like it one bit if I thanked him, so I won't. We have an understanding about that.

I am pursing my lips in front of my mirror, in that signature MM pout that Hollywood finds so profitable. Financially, anyway....

It is just me  that finds it too expensive. In so many ways, I can't even count them now. 

I was firm on having Maf with me at the awards. Although I may rethink it; it may frighten him. No sense in putting him through the spectacle with me. 

I've not really had that many congratulatory calls or telegrams on my nomination. I have, however, had a few sympathy communications. It has been illuminating to see who truly cares, and understands.....and who doesn't. Honestly, if it's one thing that I've learned, it is very few people who actually do.

If you actually meet one and are fortunate enough to share part of your life with them, treasure them. They are golden. I wish I had more golden in my life. 

Well, I've decided on my hair, makeup, what I will wear, what I will do and say. I will have a champagne and say good night.

MM