Little Rich Girl

A Little Look Back for a Little Rich Girl

Looking back at life it's like I watch a film in my mind. I would have the ability to write a million books from a million points of view. So much to say when I'm running out of time.

I get the feeling every day that I shouldn't be alive. Blessed with love, family, beauty, money and a completely unsatisfied existence.

I hope to inspire others with my stories to show that money, fame and beauty will only bring happiness if you generate the happiness yourself.

Marilyn Monroe once told my mother that if she could trade places with her, she would in a heart beat. My mother was 10 at the time and she tells me the story as if it were yesterday. Even she found it hard to believe as Marilyn bled a solitary tear on her porcelain skin that rolled on her perfect face. My mother describes it as a film as it was hard to see the sadness behind Mrs. Monroe's stunning glare. Sadly 2 years later, in 1962, it was more believable when she was found dead.

Maybe it was the childhood story that kept me on my path to prove my mother wrong. As if I was attempting to make happiness come from money, fame and lifestyle of a socialite. 

Unlike me, my mom was always effortlessly glamorous. Born on a farm in South Africa in 1950 when racism was well dramatized, more so than today has allowed us to see.

She grew up speaking fluent Zulu, Afrikaans and English and this made her life easy to take part on any side of the fence.

Setting off at 18, totally free, she went to Europe. Hitchhiked and traveled through London, Spain, Italy, France and greece. 

She was in love with the Beatles and The Rolling Stones

Traveling was easier back then. No fines, fares, restrictions, laws, human trafficking...

I could never really be a modern day hippie in this society. But it's fun to dream....

I'll continue later...back to reality present time for now.....

xoxo
 
 

 

*DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the photos above nor do I claim to. My resource for all photos is google image search. I have made the custom "Little Rich Girl" signature although the original photo is not mine.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

What's interesting me?? I can't sleep and it's 4:30 in the morning.....

Where was I?...Oh! - Mommy Dearest

Mother met a handsome Italian man and fell pregnant with her first child. A little girl. Feeling pressure and social stigma, they married. Far from love and more lust, the marriage didn't work out. He was a good looking man and a bit mysterious. Unfortunately, a freak accident with a butcher knife and a frozen steak, left him with one eye. At least that is the story behind the patch.....I always doubted it as a child.

My mom left and returned to East Grinstead, Sussex England. She used to ride her bicycle with baby in basket.

She married an English man, who needless to say, doesn't deserve much attention by my writing. My mother became pregnant with a little boy. Shortly after, she discovered her husband having an affair and that ended things quickly. My mom explains it now as a relief because she hated him and needed an excuse to leave.

She met an American man in England who became a great friend. He went back to America with his 3 kids (from a previous marriage) and the letters started....ending in something like this:

Her daughter stayed in Italy and grew up speaking fluent Italian. She brought her English baby boy to America to meet her hopeless romantic in a small New Hampshire town.

 
 

Before I get into the story of me....I have a bit to say about my father.

But that will have to wait until later today. I didn't fall asleep until 6:30 this morning when the city was covered in an orange fog.

We'll speak soon.

xoxo

 
 
 

 

*DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the photos above nor do I claim to. My resource for all photos is google image search and www.weheartit.com. I have made the custom "Little Rich Girl" signature although the original photo is not mine.

 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Tired....fell asleep too late. new Moon was dissapointing. Or I'm just impossible to satisfy. The one boy was cute if you cut his baby face off. looking at his body kept me awake.

Sir Lawrence Francis Patrick Byrnes the 1st (aka: Dad)

My dad was born in 1941 into the center of Irish Catholic rough life in South Boston. His parents had come over from Dublin and Wicklow Ireland and settled in Mass.

 

 

Very.....very Irish family. The traditions are still extremely obvious today in our family. That you will hear more about later on....this of course excuses all my drinking and drunken tirades. It's all hereditary...right?

He is the youngest of 3 boys and they have a sister. My dad used to tell me how easy I have it growing up.
In the famous words of Monty Python: "its luxury!" he says.

My favorite stories were about his parents. They died before I was born, so I never met them. My Grandfather was a firm believer in corporal punishment. He used to line up the kids in a row and threaten them with 3 different belts. My dad and the oldest, Tommy, used to yell out and beg - "please father, please, not the brown belt!". Of course he would then use the brown belt assuming it was the most painful. When his back was turned, all the kids would chuckle because the brown belt was the softest and least painful. Smart little runts.

 
 Another time, my Grandfather got so upset with my Grandmother, he threw a fork at her and it stuck right in her ass.

My dad says it was hard to miss her ass as she had the famous "McNabb Ass" genes. Child baring hips.

He had a paper route as his first job and used to fight boys that were much bigger and older than he was.

He always won of course...and was never scared to come home with a black eye and a little blood.

He attended the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy. I always imagine a handsome group of men from the 50's with their walls covered in Pin-Up posters.

 I'm sure this reminded them what they were fighting for.

He married a woman in Boston and had 3 children. My oldest sister, then a boy and another little girl. This was all concurrent of course to my mothers marriages in Italy and England.

My dad moved to England with the 3 kids and fell in love with a then married South African woman....
(my mom - duh)

This brings us back to New Hampshire and my fabulous parents. 

I gotta run before I continue...I have a big art deal happening today and my hangover isn't helping....

We'll speak soon.

Thanks for listening. Love always,

xoxo

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

*DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the photos above nor do I claim to. My resource for all photos is google image search and www.weheartit.com. I have made the custom "Little Rich Girl" signature although the original photo is not mine.