Dear Kathy Griffin- ummm...

Open letter to Kathy Griffin,


Luckily, I have envious bowel control or I would have shit myself when you called me at 2AM on Saturday night! But it would have been a good, pleasantly surprised, totally worth it mess.

I'm the captivating wife of the Police Officer that you ran into and wished he were arresting you (for the publicity). You called me from his broken flip phone that is held together by tape- how embarrassing! I've been meaning to take care of that, but with my glamorous lifestyle of 16 and Pregnant marathons and bribing kids to be quiet so I can finish watching the last season of Arrested Development on DVD, it slipped my mind.


When my husband called me, yelling over the background noise of all the drunkards downtown, "I have someone that wants to talk to you,"- I dreaded hearing a drunk random old friend out having a life! I wiped the just-fell-asleep sweat from underneath my boobs and turned down the rerun of Roseanne and put on my best, "No, I wasn't sleeping" voice- could you tell?

When you said, "Tena, this is Kathy Griffin" and I think I responded, "Get the fuck out"- that was sincere- maybe not fully thought out, but sincere nonetheless. I'm a little rusty from my last brush with greatness in 1993 when I waited for Lenny Kravitz after a show and was able to touch his dreadlocks. I know, it's hard to believe someone with such charisma as me, doesn't get out more- maybe it's the sarcasm and the self-deprecation that holds me back. No, I think I'll blame it on the kids, like my stretch marks.

I was sound asleep and caught off guard, but normally, possibly, there's a slight chance that if I were awake, I may have been able to join you in a witty repartee. Or probably not. Just maybe less stuttering. And waaay less perspiration, hopefully. I assure you my vocabulary goes beyond "umm" and "Oh My God". Usually.

Anyway, I would have said in my dorky, trying-too-hard-I'm-a-huge-fan-voice that I adore your inability to filter, love of celebrity trash talk, and agree with you on everything. I love hearing you on Howard Stern, and, of course your show "My Life on the D-List" is hilarious!

I've been a fan since you were really on the "D- List"('cuz let's face it, you're moving up, bitch!) and have watched all of your shows and specials. I don't get you confused with Vicky Lewis... and since my husband thought of me and orchestrated this phone call and all... I probably shouldn't embarrass him and say that he just asked me last week if you were on News Radio.

Please take no offense to the fact that I was clueless that you were in town. Of course you had a show! Could I have made it more obvious that I don't have a life? That was very sweet of you to have offered me tickets, you know, in hindsight, for pretend, or whatever. For what it's worth, I would have loved it! And next time you're in town, since Tom's hometown is St. Louis, we could totally hang. Or I could just go to a show. In the nosebleeds. Or not- whatever.


The second I got off the phone with you, I tweeted "Kathy fucking Griffin just called me!"...where I was the envy of all the cool mommy bloggers (you know the ones that don't have their panties in a bunch about your " This Emmy is my God now...suck it, Jesus" crack) and your main gays. I then found you on Twitter and am now stalking you, so that'll be fun, my apologies in advance.


Now that I've had time to absorb it all in- what I would have been curious about... Is there still a Facebook position open in Team Griffin? Cause I think I could rock that.

Tiffany has lost some weight, huh? She looks great.

So, what's the real deal with what happened to Jessica?

Can I also say that I already have the Joan Rivers' Roast written on my calendar (because you know my calendar's so booked!).

When my husband got home, he said he would have like to say something witty, too, and mentioned something about your mom and tea bagging- I'm so lucky he doesn't think on his feet, either! That could have been ugly.

So, thank you so much for taking the time out to say hi and chat with me.

Sincerely,

The person you called last night that you probably wish you hadn't.