Madonna - my mentor

I've been thinking this morning about Madonna. You know, the famous one not Jesus' mother. That sums it up. What a remarkable human being to have the same name as the mother of God but to have gouged out a public profile that is bigger and bolder.

In my memoir I talk about the power and sheer awe that the arrival of Madonna on the music scene gave to me. She was everything I wanted to be. Sexy. Bold. Funny. Shocking. She even had the gap in her teeth that I had, only she made it look good.

For the entire span of her career I've grown up with her. I used to say that we were sides of the same coin - she was the successful disciplined side and I was the unnoticed, undisciplined side. I have read tales of her childhood and youth and find certain parallels. She lost her mother physically and whether through my own selfishness or some other force, I felt disconnected from my own mother at a similar age and grew up with 'mother' issues which might be why I became a compulsive baby-making machine. Five kids later and I still haven't mastered motherhood!

Madonna and I were both little Catholic narcissists.

Now she and I are middle aged. It's a tough time of life. Hormonal. Tiring. But still she soldiers on while I am just finding my career feet for the first time as a writer. She has been more inspirational than any other celebrity in my life. I dreamed of having a foursome with her and Sean Penn once (and my boyfriend of the time). That was quite a few years ago now! She is reportedly a control freak. I am a control freak and freakin' proud of it! Isn't that better than being an out of control freak? I am always wary of people who use 'control freak' as a term of abuse. I think it's a compliment.

My story of running away to the big smoke, chasing my dream of fame and fortune, canoodling about with rock-stars, mirrors her own youth. We both lived on popcorn for a while and I collected rosary beads (still do). But her determination was stronger than mine and I fell into the trap of partying instead of promoting myself. I had talent. I had ambition but I lacked discipline. She became addicted to health and fitness and I discovered champagne and cocaine. She took the smarter path there.

Our society views the word 'discipline' with a severe caution. It sounds hard and sharp. But discipline does not restrict, it gives you freedom. It's taken me until 46 to truly understand that. It was my persistence at writing, the belief that I would get there in the end that won out, but it started with the discipline to sit at a computer and write the thing. That was the first step to my creeping success. I am just starting to be lured into a military 'make-over', a personal boot-camp if you will and suddenly find the word 'discipline' awfully sexy.

Today I woke at 2 a.m. and lay awake for hours wondering why I feel so out of sorts these days and it is because I am consumed by abject sloth. I'm tired. Depressed. Morose and unable to pull myself up out of it. It's become a quicksand, a quagmire of laziness. But it's not easy to get out of bed on cold mornings....blablabla. I remember reading that Madonna once said - 'easy doesn't make you grow' or something like that and it was those words of hers that got me up this morning, more motivated than I've been for ages.

She's a few years older than me, a mother, a career girl and she looks amazing. None of that comes easy. I'm going to go and find a pic of the Lady Madonna and stick it above my desk. I'm going to haul my sorry sack of flesh up and onto the treadmill. I'm going to give up booze and Tim-Tams and eat like the legend. The poor woman cops flak for being too muscly, too fit, too brazen with her middle-aged sexuality. Sounds like jealousy to me. I want her arms. I want her butt. I want her Madonna-ness.

Some journalist asked me the other day who I would like to play me if the movie version of my memoir was ever made - and I have had a sudden brainstorm. Madame M can buy the film rights to the book and produce and direct and her daughter can play the teenage me! Of course, in a weird and disturbing twist - I will play my own mother!!! It's a brilliant idea. But how to get my book in front of Madonna.........

Lights. Camera. Action. So mode it be.

So healthy I feel GREAT!

Well. Today was the day that I was going to turn my life around and become fabulous. How's it going? Umm..it's GREAT. (I am supposed to answer that to such questions, more to convince myself than anything else). I woke up at 6:15 a.m. I had planned to get up at 5:30 a.m but I forgot to set the alarm and it was raining and cold and well....I have decided to add in some fine print. When it is raining and cold my get up time is 6:15.

I had a freshly juiced drink of carrot, apple, celery and ginger with some Super-Green powder stirred in. The thing looked like pond slime and I knocked it back fast. For a second I felt like I'd face-planted into a grassy  knoll but it wasn't as bad as it looked. It was, however, not very filling and my stomach played some horrific pipe organ music until lunch time.

I walked. I actually got out of bed and put day clothes on and went for a walk to a shop where I spent lots of money on junk I don't really need but I did also pick up some good books so it lifted my mood. Sedaris and Greer.

During my walk I came up with a plan to write a piece on addiction. Something I know a lot about but not enough to have all the answers. I've been a sex addict, a cocaine addict, an alcoholic and a shopaholic and a food addict. I do not say this lightly. It's all true. I have an obsessive streak that can and has gotten me into trouble. I have two people very close to me that are currently struggling with quite serious chemical problems and they are never far from my mind. So....it being mental health awareness month or some such thing, I will focus on addiction because contrary to popular opinion, it is not a character flaw but a serious illness. And if you are not mad before you get addicted to something, you sure as hell will be before too long.

I had planned to do my Tracy Anderson DVD but I ran out of time by the time I had cooked up a piece of salmon and made a huge salad with the lot. I am going to be predominantly vegan on this program with just a bit of oily fish now and then. The mix of fresh beetroot, avocado, sprouts, carrots, spinach, radicchio, walnuts and ground flax seeds was a taste sensation. Who needs chocolate? Shit. I wish I hadn't said because now evil Nikki is out of the box. She is whispering that dark chocolate is laden with anti-oxidants .....as is red wine. I am cooking a roast for the rest of the family tonight and she is poking me in the brain telling me that a nice bottle of Shiraz is downright necessary to accompany a roast and that I would be remiss not to buy just one bottle and share a glass or two with my darling husband at the end of the day. The resveratrol  is life-prolonging and anti-ageing, she argues. Get thee behind me Nikki-Satan. Crikey, she's always doing this, whenever I try to detox and clean up my act and my life. Bitch!

I am now reading David Sedaris' 'Dress your Family in Corduroy and Denim.' My make-over insists that I take time to read as well as write. I am not allowed television apart from one family movie a week. Instead we will be playing board games, reading, playing cards and doing that strange thing known as TALKING, although I suspect the teenager will balk at that.

I have switched milky black tea for organic green today and I must say at......almost three in the afternoon.....I am feeling quite energetic and lighter already. I haven't crawled into my p'j's or bed all day. I haven't even done anything but a tiny bit of slavery/housework. I will go over the road to the shops...no...I will jog over the road to the shops, race home, hang out that washing, vacuum the zebra patterned rug that is covered in....outside things and I will shower, shave my legs, rub magical oil into my skin (without getting too distracted) and then sing like Snow-White as I cook up a perfect roast for the family and a Miso, Tempeh, sprout, seaweed combo for myself. I had lawn-clipping soup for brekkie and fish and a garden for lunch so it's a mouthful of briny seawater and floating curd for dinner.

I plan to drink soda water with a twist of lime and sit for the evening at my desk where I will write three thousand words on my novel and then a deep dark article about addiction just to scare me off doing a late night walk to the bottle shop.

The first day is always the hardest. Dusk is always the demon time but I'm blogging these days and will look like a weak, slack liar with her pants on fire if I can't do twenty-four hours.

One day at a time the recovery groups say. I will, I can and I must do this day. My name is Nikki and I am a slothaholic. But I will be a ball of energy....if it kills me! I look at Madonna's life - fame, fortune, freaky muscles and fucked-up attitude and I want she's having.

Day 1.....half-way there and I feel GREAT! Really, really I do...........  

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