opportunity knocks, luck does not

pennies, diaries, & what's in store for "girl next-next door"

when you were little, were you told that stepping on a penny would bring you good luck?

“stargirl” (2024) by me ☆ btw, I will include a new digi-collage in each post. guess you have another reason to sub now, huh…

I found a penny yesterday on the sidewalk and stepped on it. which, in hindsight, is rather unsanitary because what if someone picks up the penny with their bare fingers, as intended…

I digress. imagine if, instead of finding a penny, you find a stumble upon the key to my diary as you’re taking a stroll through your neighborhood. don’t ask why you found my diary key on the sidewalk of all places, just accept the story. and, like a penny, it brings you luck! (just don’t step on it, please).

by the way, what the f*ck is luck? (promise I don’t curse but just had to include that rhyme…). what does it mean to “get lucky?” how does one stumble into a lucky situation, nevertheless have the patience to wait around for luck to come knocking at their door? (side note: I was inclined to use the phrase “opportunity knocks,” but unlike luck, one can actually create opportunities for themselves. wanna be an actor? make a low budget film and star in it. [although, even that’s hard if you don’t know how to make a film in the first place—and most imperatively, who to make it with]). so with luck, it’s not a magical spell one can summon with a bibbidi bobbidi boo...boo-hoo. but I can’t help but think about Hollywood stars - how do they get lucky, and continuously so that they get cast in projects over and over again to the point that they can make a (highly successful) career out of it? or is it 99.7% nepotism now…

maybe more on that later. so, you pick up the key and the diary next to it. ideally, it’s a leather-bound one by Louise Carmen Paris, but I’m a broke college student. (also not sure they make diaries with keys and locks anymore). so more realistically, it’s my y2k monogrammed sequin diary from Justice.

looked something like this, but it was pink if I recall correctly

ah, the nostalgia.

ok, back to the diary. you gingerly insert the key into the lock. there’s a quiet, still moment of anticipation. like you’re opening someone’s precious gift (and this work of rambling? totally a gift to you. or a nightmare, if you’re grammatically picky).

but the diary. will it open?

you when the key fits and you successfully open my diary

yes!

you flip through the crisp pages, softly. because we want a soft life. and we also don’t want to tear the pages because that’s so unaesthetic and our inner perfectionist will forever haunt us for it, and we will be sad traumatized people. but…alas! the diary’s empty. it’s all blank pages (every writer’s greatest fear). whaaat? you just had a happy Rachel moment, why am I doing this to you?!

because I want you to subscribe, of course! it’s how we build community/a neighborhood of our own on here, right? introducing girl next-next door, where I will sporadically post a word soup of my dramatic thoughts and feelings and ruminations and ramblings as someone whose story was never the center of attention, never necessarily desired or sought out…who relentlessly tries, without success, to become a hit actress and arrange meetings with executive producers and send in unsolicited scripts to make a living. and have her voice finally be heard.

I hope this digital space can be a safe haven for us dreamers; a shared diary of sorts for those who listen to their heart a teeny bit more than their head.

hope you all find your lucky penny. I have a feeling you will. ◈