The Rake Magazine

I used to think that when I was up at night and my hubby was snoozing, rubbing his back was a nice thing to do.

Guess it's not only not nice, but it's annoying.

All this time I thought I was being little miss affectionate, but instead... I have been waking up my partner when he is just trying to get some deep sleep. I never knew this until today.

Also I never realized that when I am in a deep sleep and my husband does not WAKE me up to kiss me goodbye, he is not doing it to be mean. He is just trying to let me stay in that pleasant, peaceful world where we sleep like babies.

Who knew? I didn't, but I do now.

All of the people that advise you before you get married to never
go to sleep angry and always kiss your partner before YOU fall asleep, they got the first part right; but if your partner is in a deep, peaceful sleep and you don't wake them up for a big smooch, this doesn't mean you don't love them. It just means you are being considerate — at least in OUR case.

There is nothing like affection from your partner (when he or she is awake). I was on the receiving end of that deal this morning, and even though it's cloudy and cold outside, I feel very warm and fuzzy on the inside. :)

Good luck with the golf game, Honey. I promise from here on out to only kiss you when you are wide awake!

Hey, you asked for it, Mister, and I KNOW whether you are really sleeping or you're faking it.

"We would probably have a better shot of winning the Power ball lottery than having our wives wear this!"

This was sent to me by my former boyfriend, who is now my good buddy, Rob Vinton. Yes, he is the son of Bobby Vinton, and we met here on a show about being the Child of a Celebrity—(Good Company) KSTP TV—in the '80s.

The interesting story about Rob is that he played his father Bobbie Vinton in the movie GOODFELLAS. Rob is now the Musical Conductor-Road Manager-and handsome bass guitarist on the Bobby Vinton Musical Tour.

Small world in the creative field.

Have you ever wondered what it is like to be a model? Instead of boring you with a long story, I will be as brief as I CAN.

I have modeled clothes for designers and done that fake (I am too sexy for my shoes) deal: Knollwood Mall in the '80s. So, it wasn't Fashion Week in New York... It was still fun to walk the runway with a guy that had to wear a Boy Scout outfit to match my Girl Scout outfit. Why? Because I—at the time—had a huge crush on him.

Since he is from a very public family, and I don't have time to get his consent—and go through lawyers—I will call him Mr. Green Eyes. :-)

Mr. Green Eyes and I had a lot of fun getting paired up in fashion shows because you really get to know someone when you are given ONE room in which to change—no privacy—and two seconds to take off your clothes and put on the outfit that was selected for you by the CLIENT and approved by your AGENT. Those moments started out fun, but then they just became awkward, tainted with jealousy.

After that, I had to take a breather. But who wouldn't take $250 to spend 30 minutes having their picture taken in Pink PJ's for the TARGET circular?

That, too, was fun... until a bunch of my high school friends thought it would be cute to copy that ad and post it all over Orono High School. That Monday—which I refer to as Pink Monday from Hell—I thought had taught me a lesson. But, nope; being Me, I had to keep going.

After playing a Fruit of the Loom Grape at 3 a.m. on a home shopping channel to an audience of 12 people, it was really starting to get to me and make me realize this whole modeling world was NOT for ME.

There were a few stand out experiences, of course — like the time that I got booked for a national ad for DAYTON'S. Yep. I got the call from my agent at Eleanor Moore; they wanted ME to be the bride for a national print ad.

I showed up to the shoot, which happened to be at Temple Israel, and—what a surprise—I was booked as the Jewish Bride, and my Jewish Husband was an Italian guy named Tony.

The whole experience was just wrong. First, I was in make-up and hair for three hours, and when I looked in the mirror afterward, I didn't look that different. Then came the Wedding Dress. I sucked in my stomach so hard that my ribs were bruised by the dress. And finally, as I was standing at the alter with Tony (my fake Jewish husband), the director told me to lean in and kiss him for TWO HOURS STRAIGHT.

That was it. I was a married woman getting paid $$$$$ to kiss (more like make-out with) and "be in love with" a fake Jewish guy (a stranger, at that) in the very same synagogue in which I had married my real husband. This whole picture was wrong, wrong, and wrong.

As usual, I was nice and took direction—except for having to stop and ask the wardrobe stylist for water and mints, which made the big-time New York photographer accuse me of being a prima donna. My fake husband didn't say a word, and... you do the math—two hours of kissing and hugging with no water. Let's just say that I can't be the one accused of bad breath and sweat. :O##

Well, that was it. I broke my vows to my real husband for $$$$. I felt terrible. The worst part was going out to dinner that night with a bunch of friends, trying to forget the whole day, until—you guessed it—my fake Jewish husband showed up at the SAME restaurant with his girlfriend. Talk about uncomfortable!

"Howard, meet Tony, my fake husband"

"Melinda, meet xxxxxx, my girlfriend."

Yep. That was fun—also a night that made me realize that modeling was NOT my future career... again.

Which brings me to this last weekend, when I went back down that uncomfortable path by participating in a fashion show. I had only one reason for getting up in front of strangers in clothes that were (how shall I put this) not picked out for my body type and strutting my stuff on stage. It was worth it for one reason and one reason only: Hope Chest and Barbera Hensley. (That sounds like two reasons, but it's really not. Barbara founded Hope Chest in 2002, after losing her oldest sister to breast cancer.)

FYI: The highlight of the show was modeling along side Grandma B (the Cutie Pie Mom of JEROME BENTON AND TERRY LEWIS) and having a lot of money raised for the Dear and Lovely Barbara Hensley & her Hope Chest for Breast Cancer.

The low part was being told by the "professional" MODEL that my tags were hanging out — to which I responded by saying, "Thank you. I am not a pro, so I appreciate your help." Of course, I wasn't too crazy about having to show my spandex to let all the woman know that I, too, have flaws; but the cream cheese and bagel breakfast gave me no choice. It was spandex or popped buttons. :-)

<sup>photo by Jessica Hegland,

Hair by Jon Richards. Make up by Leilani Baker, Make up Artist Goddess. Wardrobe from Melly's Closet of Phases: Dress-BADGLEY MISCHKA-purchased at the DAYTON'S 2day warehouse sale during my lunch break at KSTP TV. Price for me to know and you not! Shoes: don't have a clue because someone stole them from me when I took them off to dance at some random club downtown.</sup>

I am so sick and tired of people making fun of people they assume do not have an appreciation or sophistication for the FINER THINGS IN LIFE. I have had the great PRIVILEGE of traveling to places most people only dream of, eating food that makes my mouth feel like it's having a big old party in there, and best of all, seeing beautiful ARTWORK every day. So what is my problem?

I am sorting through a lot of "things" right now that are valuable and deciding what I should do with them. I am in no hurry to sell anything, but I am in a hurry to make sure the right people are given some of the great privilege that I have been given all of my life so I can put the same smile on their faces that they have put on mine.

So when I recently met with "X" and expressed my frustration and confusion over starting this process, I was given that "look" of disgust when I was talking to her about ART. Apparently, being the unsophisticated person that I am, I was not using proper "Art Speak" while I was talking.

Who made this random person the "Chief of Art Speak"? I will tell you who did. SHE did. And since I am now "Chief of the things that I have been blessed with," that gives me the right to say that she can go take a flying leap, and I hope that her perfect hair looks the same wet as when it's dry. I am guessing it probably looks more along the lines of something a bunch of rats would enjoy calling home.

Insult after insult, I sat there and took it like a trooper, and then I got in my car (paid for with my own money) and went home and looked around my house, appreciating even more the beautiful ART that my husband and I have.

As to the kind of ART that we enjoy looking at every day, it consists mostly of My Mother's artistic genius.

The so-called valuable pieces that Mrs. "Snotty Butt" would love to impress her Clients with will be given to people in my life who DESERVE the choice as to whether or not they want to hang the work on their walls or sell it on E-Bay.

I found it beyond comprehension that I was being frowned on because I was not B.S.ing my way with small talk and essentially saying what comes natural to me. In other words, I was being Melinda Jacobs, the person who wakes up the same way every day with hair that is starting to gray from wasting MY VALUABLE time on phony baloneys.

So, where the heck am I going with this?

Remember, blogging — thank god — is still one of the few ways that we can ALL express the person who we really are without a certain code of conduct. That is why I love it. In fact, I am passionate about it! It's ART to ME.

What is beautiful to you, what wakes you up in the morning and gets your heart pumping, your energy going... that feeling of Passion is truly your choice. And if someone tries to diminish that or hurt you, just because they think they know more than you or are better than you, here is my suggestion:

Next time you get "the look" for being authentic and being yourself, look that person straight in the eye and say "Boobies." It has done a lot for me in being able to weed out the phonies and reel in some treasures of pure gold.

Enjoy the picture of this statue that I have sitting in my office. That is a piece of ART that may have dollar signs on it, but to me it's not only a metaphor of my life but a priceless one in so many ways.

By the way, it's for sale.
(I am kidding.)

—Melinda Jacobs