I grew up in a smallish town and always daydreamed. I fantasized about becoming a movie star like Lana Turner or Marilyn Monroe. My colorful thoughts fed my courage and I wounded up 3000 miles away from my family. I set my sights on the stars and everything that sparkled with it and I managed to land on a nice sturdy cloud. It's still fabulous, I've done it my way so far and the cloud is like my favorite pillow sometimes I get lost in it probably still dreaming about the stars. My life as of late has been filled with magical twists and turns and I met my fairy godmother, she's lives in Malibu. In fact I have met a lot of women recently that really inspire me. They lift me with their life story, experience and wisdom. It's refreshing and forcing me to be all that I can be. I know that sounds cheesy but living in a big city you encounter all walks of life and to quote Mama bear I have chosen to associate with a few that weren't of my "ilk". Mom's are always protective and of course they all want the best for their children but the way I swallow her judgement and regurgitate it as the following, "it's just hard to find like minded creative, supportive people, ones that want to take a turn watering the plant and don't have to be the one's getting all the water all the time." I've been the thirsty one before and it's not always fun. Now, I feel like I'm swimming in blue gatorade.
I've been caring for three dogs lately. They are my Christmas companions. I sit with them on the couch next to the tree with white lights listening to music and I have to tell you there isn't anywhere else I would rather be. It is peaceful. I am still. Gearing up for 2012. Sometimes you have to do the solo act thing for a while until you re-cast the ensemble players. There is a knowing in it, if you really listen, you figure out which way to go. Like the birds in the sky that fly south in the wintertime, you can learn to do that with your thoughts. Close your eyes, let them fly, elevate, go to places like I did as a little girl with the stars and when you open them you're exactly where you should be.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Fallen First Love
I grew up near a park that was near a library. The park had a gazebo it was a forest green color. You had to be careful inside of it because the the wood was rotting and the floor boards creaked when you walked on them. It was surrounded by copious amounts of pine trees and it was set in the shade, the smell was divine. When I sat on the ledge I felt fancy and romantic. I think of it now and it feels cool and safe. It was my childhood and it shaped me.
The first boy that ever held my hand went to my Catholic school. He ran track, played baseball, basketball and looked like Matt Damon. We used to take the same route home from school and he would say naughty things as he walked behind me. He scared and infuriated me so one day I marched into the principals office and tattletaled. The principal was a nun and her name was Sister Mildred she always wore navy blue and her office smelled because she sat there and passed gas all day long. As I spewed verbatim what he said to me she huffed and puffed and at one point I thought her head would spin all the way around and I would burst into flames for repeating such things reserved for the dark.
After ratting him out, Mr. Bad Boy changed his tune and I would catch him stealing glances at me. When I caught him he would smile. He was a grade ahead and all the girls liked him. House parties were becoming popular and they all wanted him there. He threatened not to attend their soirees if I wasn't invited, needless to say I got lots of invitations. The parties were chock full of punch and Journey tunes and it was where I discovered how to slow dance. With my arms wrapped around Bad Boy's neck our hormones raged and we would have epic make out sessions. The kisses would last three or four songs and Steve Perry singing "Who's Cryin Now" was our favorite because it went on and on.
One day when we were walking home we took a detour and ended up heading toward the gazebo. As I stepped up into it he grabbed my hand. I let him keep it. He walked me to the center and turned me toward him. He asked me to be his girl, my insides tickled and I buried my head in his chest and managed to squeak out a yes. I felt so grown up. I held his hand for the next five years and fell more and more in love with him. We were going to save ourselves for marriage. He was a gentleman. He set the bar for me and I have yet to come close. When I think of him, I am grateful that I was able to share my love that way. It has happened once for me so far, some people never get the chance and well...some people settle.
It ended tragically of course. He got into drugs and alcohol and at the ripe old age of 16 I found myself on one end of my rotary phone talking to a counselor and trying to get him a bed in a State rehab. I grew up fast, I learned to mother and the love I knew disappeared in the blink of an eye. I felt my breath leave and I gulped air. I had lost him and lost what we had together, it changed me just like the gazebo in the park. A family friend saw him on the bus recently, he was missing teeth. I stopped her from telling me more I didn't want to imagine him that way.
When you have gone down a path like that all of the shenanigans that silly men pull just seem like an annoyance. (Like the time a boyfriend of mine pointed out a Paris Hilton look a like and said "I could never afford a girl like that" suddenly I felt like I came off the discount rack. What an idiot he was !). They end up being like a fly that you can't get rid of. Their slights and jabs are pretty much amateur hour because no one can come close to that heavy weight ring. You end up with these fleas because of a feeble attempt to recreate the magic you found once upon a time. Once Upon A Time always has a The End.
I have started to make the best of the chapters in between. They have taken me to places stored in the back of my memory and some I have never been. I always like to start a new book. I can't wait to find out what's inside.
I end up by the sea shore turning to the first page.
Once Upon A Time....
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Shade Inc.
I had a therapist tell me once, "this behavior has become your new normal," and by behavior she meant the "what about me, it's all about me" mentality of those I chose to surround myself with. When you are in the trenches of Hollywood it's like going into battle. You must put on mental and emotional armor to protect the sacred gift that brought you here in the first place, your talent and with talent comes sensitivity and that's the chink in the armor that needs to be tweaked. A friend said to me the other day, "don't be a victim of your own character traits", I pondered for a minute and thought about how I actually tried to become less sensitive which did nothing but made me feel like there was something wrong with me. The key is to wear my sensitivity like my favorite dress only on special occasions around a chosen few. Otherwise the unanswered calls, broken promises, backhanded compliments and blatant disregard make up too heavy of a cross to bear for this girl who wandered off from the flock and carries her dreams in a pouch.
Now the Mama of that flock made sure to put a tag on my wing AND with her newly discovered text messaging skills can stalk me to find out the latest on Demi and Ashton. Yep, it's true. In between my ten jobs and building my empire I will get various missed calls, start to panic, rush to call her back only to be asked "so what's going on in Hollywood?" And according to her there are three levels of Hollywood: Douchebag/Cheeseball Hollywood, Working Actor Hollywood, and Elite Hollywood. I have been peddling my wares for quite some time now and it gets to the point where one wonders "will it all pay off?" There have been many a day where I have hung my head trying to rearrange my strategy, reinvent my outlook and crack the code only to feel like, NO in this business hard work does NOT matter. I have seen both men and women marry or date for money, fame, position, and stability. I have seen con artists at their finest getting whatever they want by being super charming and making you feel like the only person in the room. They reap tremendous material rewards, drive fast cars, wear expensive shoes and get 500 dollar highlights. And they are the most miserable people I have ever met in my life. Now I am no saint, I have hung out with a person or two and gone to a swag gifting suite when everything about it felt wrong. It was shiny and exciting but it was also vapid. The common denominator in all of this glitz and glamour is the lack of love. There is no love, no self respect, no integrity.
I choose love, always have and this sometimes makes life difficult because it can be a very lonely path especially when surrounded by the walking wounded. In the early days of my stint here in Hollywood I sat on the sidelines and cheered for the wrong team. They were people that didn't deserve it or were too broken to appreciate it. (I picked them, I know, I know.) The success they achieved was always fleeting and temporary. It wasn't real, it was an illusion based on the lies they were telling to get what they wanted. When you witness this, it sorta scrambles your brain and you have to swim to shore without a life jacket. You learn your lesson and never again go into those murky waters without it. There have been too many close calls.
Getting back to my Mama's breakdown of Hollywood. A strange phenomenon has occurred. I have been catapulted into the realm of Elite Hollywood. It feels like nothing short of a miracle and just when I thought I toiled in vain, I got out of my own way and stood at the front line of my hard work. The little girl that used to dance to the opening credits of Happy Days on Tuesday nights wants to shout from the mountaintops and tell you everything. Who, where, how, what. But I can't. It took me so long to get here and it's too precious. It is the beginning of all the years gelling together and the cement forming between the blocks. When you breathe this rare air, your word means something and kindness is a virtue. Making the right choice and being on time are normal. There are no takers only givers and the love flows abundantly all the way to the ocean view. When I look back I quickly whip my head around to move forward. I will never go back there. It's like when you meet a really sweet guy who opens your door and recognizes your intelligence, suddenly the out of work poet is no longer appealing and the people concerned with being cool and going to right parties are a snooze fest.
Yet they are coming, the phone is ringing and there is a manic interest in my whereabouts. Its just so obvious that I cringe and wonder in horror if when I was hanging on by a thread, did I ever exhibit such ghastly manners?!
So I will remember my manners and practice proper phone etiquette when the "can't be bothered's" ring me to exchange pseudo pleasantries. It is usually a precursor for wanting something and it is a personality trait of those grappling to "make it" without any respect for the art of it all. They will be greeted with the following, courtesy of my favorite Ruelism:
"Thank you for calling Shade Inc. Please hold................................................................ forever.
Goodbye!"
Now the Mama of that flock made sure to put a tag on my wing AND with her newly discovered text messaging skills can stalk me to find out the latest on Demi and Ashton. Yep, it's true. In between my ten jobs and building my empire I will get various missed calls, start to panic, rush to call her back only to be asked "so what's going on in Hollywood?" And according to her there are three levels of Hollywood: Douchebag/Cheeseball Hollywood, Working Actor Hollywood, and Elite Hollywood. I have been peddling my wares for quite some time now and it gets to the point where one wonders "will it all pay off?" There have been many a day where I have hung my head trying to rearrange my strategy, reinvent my outlook and crack the code only to feel like, NO in this business hard work does NOT matter. I have seen both men and women marry or date for money, fame, position, and stability. I have seen con artists at their finest getting whatever they want by being super charming and making you feel like the only person in the room. They reap tremendous material rewards, drive fast cars, wear expensive shoes and get 500 dollar highlights. And they are the most miserable people I have ever met in my life. Now I am no saint, I have hung out with a person or two and gone to a swag gifting suite when everything about it felt wrong. It was shiny and exciting but it was also vapid. The common denominator in all of this glitz and glamour is the lack of love. There is no love, no self respect, no integrity.
I choose love, always have and this sometimes makes life difficult because it can be a very lonely path especially when surrounded by the walking wounded. In the early days of my stint here in Hollywood I sat on the sidelines and cheered for the wrong team. They were people that didn't deserve it or were too broken to appreciate it. (I picked them, I know, I know.) The success they achieved was always fleeting and temporary. It wasn't real, it was an illusion based on the lies they were telling to get what they wanted. When you witness this, it sorta scrambles your brain and you have to swim to shore without a life jacket. You learn your lesson and never again go into those murky waters without it. There have been too many close calls.
Getting back to my Mama's breakdown of Hollywood. A strange phenomenon has occurred. I have been catapulted into the realm of Elite Hollywood. It feels like nothing short of a miracle and just when I thought I toiled in vain, I got out of my own way and stood at the front line of my hard work. The little girl that used to dance to the opening credits of Happy Days on Tuesday nights wants to shout from the mountaintops and tell you everything. Who, where, how, what. But I can't. It took me so long to get here and it's too precious. It is the beginning of all the years gelling together and the cement forming between the blocks. When you breathe this rare air, your word means something and kindness is a virtue. Making the right choice and being on time are normal. There are no takers only givers and the love flows abundantly all the way to the ocean view. When I look back I quickly whip my head around to move forward. I will never go back there. It's like when you meet a really sweet guy who opens your door and recognizes your intelligence, suddenly the out of work poet is no longer appealing and the people concerned with being cool and going to right parties are a snooze fest.
Yet they are coming, the phone is ringing and there is a manic interest in my whereabouts. Its just so obvious that I cringe and wonder in horror if when I was hanging on by a thread, did I ever exhibit such ghastly manners?!
So I will remember my manners and practice proper phone etiquette when the "can't be bothered's" ring me to exchange pseudo pleasantries. It is usually a precursor for wanting something and it is a personality trait of those grappling to "make it" without any respect for the art of it all. They will be greeted with the following, courtesy of my favorite Ruelism:
"Thank you for calling Shade Inc. Please hold................................................................ forever.
Goodbye!"
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
T'is the Season
I'm sitting in a house on top of a hill that overlooks all of Los Angeles. Millions of lights glisten and I think of all the windows of opportunity untapped. What can I say, I'm a dreamer. This mini villa is owned by a guy from my part of the country and my friend cares for it when he is out of town. I have whipped up some organic tomato soup with brown rice and some canned green beans. Comfort food with a healthy edge. The calm before the eating storm on Turkey day. I could not be happier luxuriating with friends during the little down time that I have during this holiday season. These pockets of time are like mini vacay's. I wonder what Christmas will hold. I have lived a life thus far where I don't think that far ahead. Maybe I should start.
In the meantime, I am nestled with Academy screeners which are all the latest movies in the theaters right now. Gosh I'm saving a lot of dough. I will spend this Thanksgiving with friends and superheroes (literally) but you wouldn't believe me if I told you so I'll just keep it to myself. I would fore go all of it if I could blink and fly east to be with the family but Donald Trump I am not, so I will stay planted here amongst the palm trees and the ocean breeze.
Making new friends when you are older is like getting a big bouquet of flowers just because. It is such a pleasant surprise. I have two long running friendships in LA, we have been through everything, up and down and we made it.... still standing. One of them said to me, "you have you're posse". It's true I do. Finally. And there is always room for more, they just have to pass the test.
In the meantime, I am nestled with Academy screeners which are all the latest movies in the theaters right now. Gosh I'm saving a lot of dough. I will spend this Thanksgiving with friends and superheroes (literally) but you wouldn't believe me if I told you so I'll just keep it to myself. I would fore go all of it if I could blink and fly east to be with the family but Donald Trump I am not, so I will stay planted here amongst the palm trees and the ocean breeze.
Making new friends when you are older is like getting a big bouquet of flowers just because. It is such a pleasant surprise. I have two long running friendships in LA, we have been through everything, up and down and we made it.... still standing. One of them said to me, "you have you're posse". It's true I do. Finally. And there is always room for more, they just have to pass the test.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Through the Kitchen
I have a confession to make, I have been cheating on my blog with my play. After three weeks of rehearsal and two performances under my belt I have passed the honeymoon phase and returned to my true love. Oh how I have missed the click clacks of my keyboard. I am glad to be back darling, thank you for understanding when I ventured out into "greener pastures" only to discover that you are all I ever needed. You are funny, stable, supportive and just waiting on my ass to settle down. I'm back baby and I promise I will work on my commitment issues. Thank you for always being there. Love me.
Now that THAT is out of the way I have been thinking a lot lately about the most thrilling times in my life. They have almost always been when I entered an establishment through the kitchen. That being said, it was usually because I wasn't invited to the super white hot party or club I was trying to get into. Either way, my life has always been about the non-conventional ways of doing things and if I'm not invited to the party I most certainly will crash it. At least that was philosophy in my twenties. As I have "matured", I really don't want to be anywhere that I am not welcome. What a concept?!? I guess it's called being a grown up.
This phase in my life has been about getting my social mojo back. I have been venturing out a lot lately and there have been a lot of serendipitous happenings. The most exciting one to date was a chance encounter with a movie star who hugged me tightly and told me I was sweet. I swear during our conversation I looked behind me to make sure he was most definitely talking to me and lo and behold he was. My self esteem is usually two steps behind and out of all the women present his eyes found me. I was in shock and still sort of am but if anything I know there is a shred of hope left in this tangled murky web that we have labeled romance. It was a classic case of boy meets girl, boy fancies girl and girl fancies boy back. Simple. Natural. Undeniable. Before this unexpected encounter with movie star boy (and even if he wasn't a movie star, my chemicals would still be attracted to his, he reminded me of my first love) happened I was talking in my women's group about how I could care less about being in a relationship, how things are so different right now with the internet, facebook, twitter, distractions, distractions, distractions and that I had really lost touch with what actually turns me on. I had rarely met any guy that did it for me and I had been resigned to a life of "well at least I loved so and so once" and maybe that's all I would get this go around.
It's like the heavens opened up and said "not so quickly my dear." My insides started to stretch and things woke up inside of me. The way movie star boy looked for me in the room turned me on. Can you believe it? Neither could I! Life can be so crazy. I also liked the way he wore his basketball shorts and I wanted to run my fingers through his hair which was curly from sweat. Another turn on! But the biggest turn on of all was when he stood up from the table when I got up to leave. What a gentleman. He hugged me and I was like glue stuck to him and that's when he told me I was sweet. Swoon. (sorry if you're gagging right now, but in LA it's hard to find men with impeccable manners). The only other time that has happened was when I met Paul Newman at the New York Film Critics Awards, (we snuck in through the kitchen and sat at Abel Ferrara's table) he stood up before he said hello and then when he introduced himself he turned to his wife and introduced her. Classy.
I often default to bemoaning my fate and looking at the cup half empty and then something happens to snap me out of the doldrums. Things are good and they are moving in the right direction. Since I met my prince (wink) I have been meeting gentlemen left and right and they are adorable. I met an aerodynamics engineer turned actor that looks like he was plucked from the middle of nowhere and deposited on the corner of La Brea and Beverly for my viewing pleasure. jkjk. But really... magical things happen when you wade through the water one step at a time even when you don't want to, you might just get rescued by an ex-rugby player with a southern drawl, yes aerodynamics engineer also plays rugby.
.
I go through the front door now. It's just easier, I can valet and not worry about getting mugged in the back alley by the kitchen.
Now that THAT is out of the way I have been thinking a lot lately about the most thrilling times in my life. They have almost always been when I entered an establishment through the kitchen. That being said, it was usually because I wasn't invited to the super white hot party or club I was trying to get into. Either way, my life has always been about the non-conventional ways of doing things and if I'm not invited to the party I most certainly will crash it. At least that was philosophy in my twenties. As I have "matured", I really don't want to be anywhere that I am not welcome. What a concept?!? I guess it's called being a grown up.
This phase in my life has been about getting my social mojo back. I have been venturing out a lot lately and there have been a lot of serendipitous happenings. The most exciting one to date was a chance encounter with a movie star who hugged me tightly and told me I was sweet. I swear during our conversation I looked behind me to make sure he was most definitely talking to me and lo and behold he was. My self esteem is usually two steps behind and out of all the women present his eyes found me. I was in shock and still sort of am but if anything I know there is a shred of hope left in this tangled murky web that we have labeled romance. It was a classic case of boy meets girl, boy fancies girl and girl fancies boy back. Simple. Natural. Undeniable. Before this unexpected encounter with movie star boy (and even if he wasn't a movie star, my chemicals would still be attracted to his, he reminded me of my first love) happened I was talking in my women's group about how I could care less about being in a relationship, how things are so different right now with the internet, facebook, twitter, distractions, distractions, distractions and that I had really lost touch with what actually turns me on. I had rarely met any guy that did it for me and I had been resigned to a life of "well at least I loved so and so once" and maybe that's all I would get this go around.
It's like the heavens opened up and said "not so quickly my dear." My insides started to stretch and things woke up inside of me. The way movie star boy looked for me in the room turned me on. Can you believe it? Neither could I! Life can be so crazy. I also liked the way he wore his basketball shorts and I wanted to run my fingers through his hair which was curly from sweat. Another turn on! But the biggest turn on of all was when he stood up from the table when I got up to leave. What a gentleman. He hugged me and I was like glue stuck to him and that's when he told me I was sweet. Swoon. (sorry if you're gagging right now, but in LA it's hard to find men with impeccable manners). The only other time that has happened was when I met Paul Newman at the New York Film Critics Awards, (we snuck in through the kitchen and sat at Abel Ferrara's table) he stood up before he said hello and then when he introduced himself he turned to his wife and introduced her. Classy.
I often default to bemoaning my fate and looking at the cup half empty and then something happens to snap me out of the doldrums. Things are good and they are moving in the right direction. Since I met my prince (wink) I have been meeting gentlemen left and right and they are adorable. I met an aerodynamics engineer turned actor that looks like he was plucked from the middle of nowhere and deposited on the corner of La Brea and Beverly for my viewing pleasure. jkjk. But really... magical things happen when you wade through the water one step at a time even when you don't want to, you might just get rescued by an ex-rugby player with a southern drawl, yes aerodynamics engineer also plays rugby.
.
I go through the front door now. It's just easier, I can valet and not worry about getting mugged in the back alley by the kitchen.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
May I Have This Dance
I remember back in the day when I first started going to a shrink. I was trying to break up with some hapless boyfriend and I just didn't know how to do it. Because of my "daddy issues", I had set up my life where I had all of these characters and "friends" that needed me. I was indispensable. I got people jobs, set them up with their future husbands, provided shelter, food and even designer clothing. One day when I was bemoaning my fate during a pro rated therapy session (I always manage to get some sort of deal), I went on and on about how hapless guy didn't want me to leave and how he told me how much I meant to him.
"I felt validated when he 'expressed' himself to me and said how much he wanted me in his life."
I told the shrink proudly, knowing that I must be having a breakthrough, someone wanted me around.
"That's because he needs you," the all knowing one replied.
"Well that's good isn't it?"
"You are getting your validation by being needed, that's not good."
I was stumped. Here I had a guy pleading with me not to walk out the door, and it was a bad thing because he "needed" me. The all knowing one said it wasn't based on love. Needless to say I spent the next 10 years collecting people that needed me all because I had an absentee father or whatever. These dots were way to heavy for me to connect and at the end of the day all I could do was pray. It was like untangling electrical wires in a rainstorm, sometimes I felt like I was going to die. My emotional valiance brought me to my knees one too many times until I finally gave up. I opted for the bench. I wasn't going to play that game anymore until I picked people who played by the rules. I've been on the bench for quite some time and my bench is comfortable. If I were to paint it I think it would look like a candy cane. Sometimes I get up from the bench, it is brief, I learn my lesson and I sit right back down. It is safe and it is where I should be for the time being. I read lots of great books from my bench, I write, I watch amazing movies and I have the most outrageous visitors that sit next to me. The most recent one was wild, he reminded me of my college boyfriend, a classic alcoholic, drug addict who charmed the pants off of most people. I didn't budge from my bench, I let him come and go as he pleased and minded my own business. It was so much easier this time around dealing with someone like that. I took care of myself and didn't worry about them self destructing. I didn't coddle or care take and this is when I knew I had grown. I was acting like a grown up woman, not a fatherless girl.
So the bench had been my breakthrough. Tending to my side of the street and putting myself first. No one was hurt and in fact we all had a great time. I called up that shrink from yesteryear and shared the good news.
"Keep up the good work and don't maneuver your life to fit into someone else's who doesn't deserve it."
I thought about how I loved to dance. Bending and turning and sculpting myself to be what the other person wanted. It was exhausting. It so much more glamorous to not lift a finger, to just smile and laugh. If they go there is always another knock on the door and eventually they know how to dance the way you do. If you're lucky they know how to lead. That's hot.
"I felt validated when he 'expressed' himself to me and said how much he wanted me in his life."
I told the shrink proudly, knowing that I must be having a breakthrough, someone wanted me around.
"That's because he needs you," the all knowing one replied.
"Well that's good isn't it?"
"You are getting your validation by being needed, that's not good."
I was stumped. Here I had a guy pleading with me not to walk out the door, and it was a bad thing because he "needed" me. The all knowing one said it wasn't based on love. Needless to say I spent the next 10 years collecting people that needed me all because I had an absentee father or whatever. These dots were way to heavy for me to connect and at the end of the day all I could do was pray. It was like untangling electrical wires in a rainstorm, sometimes I felt like I was going to die. My emotional valiance brought me to my knees one too many times until I finally gave up. I opted for the bench. I wasn't going to play that game anymore until I picked people who played by the rules. I've been on the bench for quite some time and my bench is comfortable. If I were to paint it I think it would look like a candy cane. Sometimes I get up from the bench, it is brief, I learn my lesson and I sit right back down. It is safe and it is where I should be for the time being. I read lots of great books from my bench, I write, I watch amazing movies and I have the most outrageous visitors that sit next to me. The most recent one was wild, he reminded me of my college boyfriend, a classic alcoholic, drug addict who charmed the pants off of most people. I didn't budge from my bench, I let him come and go as he pleased and minded my own business. It was so much easier this time around dealing with someone like that. I took care of myself and didn't worry about them self destructing. I didn't coddle or care take and this is when I knew I had grown. I was acting like a grown up woman, not a fatherless girl.
So the bench had been my breakthrough. Tending to my side of the street and putting myself first. No one was hurt and in fact we all had a great time. I called up that shrink from yesteryear and shared the good news.
"Keep up the good work and don't maneuver your life to fit into someone else's who doesn't deserve it."
I thought about how I loved to dance. Bending and turning and sculpting myself to be what the other person wanted. It was exhausting. It so much more glamorous to not lift a finger, to just smile and laugh. If they go there is always another knock on the door and eventually they know how to dance the way you do. If you're lucky they know how to lead. That's hot.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Box of Chocolates and Goodbye
We laid on a bed outside by the pool at one of Hollywood's hottest nightclubs. The lighting from the pool made everyone look like a Gucci ad and there were tiki torches with flames that surrounded us. The room was filled with English rockstars and the latest "it" girls. They all seemed full of shit and their outfits looked like they were trying too hard. I propped myself up on my arm and listened more than I spoke. He just wanted to be heard and I could see the pain in his eyes which were different colors, one green and one gray. "I have never been treated so nicely in my life." he said. I was taken aback. He had flown across the pond from the U.K. where he lives an affluent life. He slept in the corner of my studio apartment on a piece of foam with two new blankets that I bought from Target, they were blue. The last time I saw him he was a boy and now he has grown into a man. A complex one. He charmed all of my friends and managed to pick up a few American girls while here on holiday. He was my friend and I treated him the way I was raised to treat people. "Do unto others as you would want them to do unto you," my mother always told me. I did just that and when he left to get on the plane he pulled me close, "There is so much to say but I just can't say it now, thank you." "You don't have to say anything." I said and rubbed his back, he had tears in his eyes and the girl he was with looked at me, she nodded and I smiled back. I turned and walked back into the production office in Venice where I was working. As I opened the door I blew him a kiss and he was wiping his face. I sat at my desk and thought about the past two weeks. They were awesome. I felt like I was reintroduced to society. I went out every night. I was tired everyday. I got sick from lack of sleep and yet I never felt more alive. It was nice to be appreciated.
He left me with a box of chocolates from his mum's shop in London. I will eat one everyday for a month. I will revisit all of the places that we went together and meet new friends, real friends, friends like him. When the Hollywood douche bags act like they can't be bothered I will tell them to "fu*k off" or call them a "c*nt" or a "di*k" and say they are "awful" all with a very posh English accent under my breath while turning on my heels and walking toward better times.
He left me with a box of chocolates from his mum's shop in London. I will eat one everyday for a month. I will revisit all of the places that we went together and meet new friends, real friends, friends like him. When the Hollywood douche bags act like they can't be bothered I will tell them to "fu*k off" or call them a "c*nt" or a "di*k" and say they are "awful" all with a very posh English accent under my breath while turning on my heels and walking toward better times.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Good Deed Done
I drove down La Brea in rush hour traffic on a Friday, anyone who lives in Los Angeles knows that Friday is theeee dreaded day for traffic. It was hot and I was fighting a bit of a head cold but it was my birthday so I fought through it thinking about the margarita and the laughs I would have later on in the evening. My facebook blew up all day with birthday messages and I was overcome by the new cast of characters that had found me in this lifetime. I am grateful for their kindness.
As I fiddled with the radio stations going back and forth between Power 106 and Jack FM, I had to stop for the gridlock. I looked to my right and this young girl was standing in front of an abandoned store front that had all the windows blacked out. She was wearing daisy dukes and had flaming red hair to match her tank top, she was pale and could easily be the next "it" girl here in Hollywood if her number came up and she met the "right" people to launch her. She shifted from one leg to another and she was in impeccable shape. Weren't we all at that age. She looked like she took ballet class, her posture was perfect. As I imagined an idyllic life she had prior to coming to the big city I began to notice that something did not look right. She popped an envelope through the slot in the door that had bars on it, she continued to fidget and looked left then right. Her sweetness was no longer palpable and her movements were quick. She looked like she was on some sort of mission. Just as traffic started to move the heavy door in front of her opened quickly and a big burly guy grabbed her arm, no pleasantries or smiles were exchanged and he ushered her in from the sunlight. Before I could press my gas she was gone. I looked at my arms and there were goose bumps on them. Something didn't feel right, I reached for my blackberry and dialed 911.
A voice answered the phone, it was nasally "911, what's your emergency?"
"Hi, I'm not sure I should be calling you and I never do this, but I want to report some suspicious activity."
"What happened?"
"Well I saw this young girl standing on the street, blah, blah blah."
"Hold please, I'm transferring you to the Wilshire district, ask for a detective."
Before I could answer, the phone was ringing. It must of rang 100 times. I had just pulled into Yogurtland so I let it ring and ring while I got my pistachio yogurt with blueberries and walnuts. I placed my cup on the scale.
"1.97 please."
Yes, I was happy, I always kept it under two dollars.
I was fumbling for some change when I finally heard a voice on the other end of the line.
"Detective Gutierrez, how can I help you?"
"Hi, I never do this but I want to report some suspicious activity, I saw this teenage girl standing on La Brea in front of an abandoned store front with blacked out windows and......."
"Ok, we are going to send the vice squad to go check it out."
"Thank you, thank you so much, I hope that girl is ok."
I hung up the phone and finished my yogurt and thought about when I first moved here. I was so blessed to find just one person to look after me. She was my life line, my stability and my best friend. Every year on my birthday she would get me a cake with my photo on it. They have cake shops here in Hollywood that do that and she loved seeing my face every time she unveiled it year after year. It was always accompanied by the most lovely card, I have them all saved wrapped in a bow that I keep in my top drawer.
Tonight I will celebrate with my new friends and some old friends that have become new again. I am grateful that I never ended up on La Brea alone waiting for some heavy mysterious door to open. I thank God that I had someone who always wanted to know where I was and what I was doing and if I was OK. I miss Cassie everyday and I will toast her favorite margarita at her favorite restaurant tonight. I will quietly remember the cake and remember how she always told me to never give up.
Cheers to another year in Los Angeles and another year of life.
Thank you :)
As I fiddled with the radio stations going back and forth between Power 106 and Jack FM, I had to stop for the gridlock. I looked to my right and this young girl was standing in front of an abandoned store front that had all the windows blacked out. She was wearing daisy dukes and had flaming red hair to match her tank top, she was pale and could easily be the next "it" girl here in Hollywood if her number came up and she met the "right" people to launch her. She shifted from one leg to another and she was in impeccable shape. Weren't we all at that age. She looked like she took ballet class, her posture was perfect. As I imagined an idyllic life she had prior to coming to the big city I began to notice that something did not look right. She popped an envelope through the slot in the door that had bars on it, she continued to fidget and looked left then right. Her sweetness was no longer palpable and her movements were quick. She looked like she was on some sort of mission. Just as traffic started to move the heavy door in front of her opened quickly and a big burly guy grabbed her arm, no pleasantries or smiles were exchanged and he ushered her in from the sunlight. Before I could press my gas she was gone. I looked at my arms and there were goose bumps on them. Something didn't feel right, I reached for my blackberry and dialed 911.
A voice answered the phone, it was nasally "911, what's your emergency?"
"Hi, I'm not sure I should be calling you and I never do this, but I want to report some suspicious activity."
"What happened?"
"Well I saw this young girl standing on the street, blah, blah blah."
"Hold please, I'm transferring you to the Wilshire district, ask for a detective."
Before I could answer, the phone was ringing. It must of rang 100 times. I had just pulled into Yogurtland so I let it ring and ring while I got my pistachio yogurt with blueberries and walnuts. I placed my cup on the scale.
"1.97 please."
Yes, I was happy, I always kept it under two dollars.
I was fumbling for some change when I finally heard a voice on the other end of the line.
"Detective Gutierrez, how can I help you?"
"Hi, I never do this but I want to report some suspicious activity, I saw this teenage girl standing on La Brea in front of an abandoned store front with blacked out windows and......."
"Ok, we are going to send the vice squad to go check it out."
"Thank you, thank you so much, I hope that girl is ok."
I hung up the phone and finished my yogurt and thought about when I first moved here. I was so blessed to find just one person to look after me. She was my life line, my stability and my best friend. Every year on my birthday she would get me a cake with my photo on it. They have cake shops here in Hollywood that do that and she loved seeing my face every time she unveiled it year after year. It was always accompanied by the most lovely card, I have them all saved wrapped in a bow that I keep in my top drawer.
Tonight I will celebrate with my new friends and some old friends that have become new again. I am grateful that I never ended up on La Brea alone waiting for some heavy mysterious door to open. I thank God that I had someone who always wanted to know where I was and what I was doing and if I was OK. I miss Cassie everyday and I will toast her favorite margarita at her favorite restaurant tonight. I will quietly remember the cake and remember how she always told me to never give up.
Cheers to another year in Los Angeles and another year of life.
Thank you :)
Monday, August 29, 2011
Summer Storms and Burnt Knees
Within the span of a month I helped four people move. It was pretty wild. Packing, cleaning, crying, lugging, schlepping, fighting, waiting and dare I say, sweating. The last move took place in Boston. I was moving my little cousin Jenna from Brighton, Massachusetts to Sommerville. It's twenty minutes from downtown Boston and that used to be my stomping ground when I was in College. Sommerville was the bad part of town, nicknamed Slummerville but now with the Boston Proper rents at astronomical highs people are hip to these newly renovated neighborhoods. I remember when I went to school at Emerson, I lived on Beacon Street and most of my fellow classmates were trust fund kids and a few really cute guys that hooked up with the wealthy New York Park Avenue babes for a free ride. I slipped through the cracks via a scholarship, settlement money from a car accident and a little bit of financial aid. I didn't pay any attention to the sons of Fortune 500 CEO's, I opted for the cute Portuguese soccer player that worked in the cafeteria and lived in.....wait for it....Slummerville. I went there a few times back in the day to meet his pitbulls. I wasn't scared. It reminded me of the block where I grew up.
Anyway, back to moving my cousin to the cleaned up, gentrified, 2011 version of Sommerville. It was 90 degrees and humid. I wore my grey skinny jeans and that was a big mistake, they were stuck to me by the end of the day. It was like moving someone and they lived inside of the steam room at the YMCA. Hot, hot, hot, humid, humid, humid, and SWAMPY. It was me, my cousin, my aunt and my uncle. We grabbed dressers, clothes, tables, dishes, a matress, a television and a plethora of other stuff that we just threw in boxes. It took us about 6 hours and then we hopped in my cousins car and made the five hour drive to Maine. As we crossed the state line in New Hampshire, I looked up into the sky and it was a peach color at 6 o'clock at night, every ten minutes I would see a lightning bolt stretch across the sky and I thought about my childhood. I am from moody territory. The east coast is unpredictable and real. I took a deep breath and remembered everything that I came from and it made my time in Los Angeles all the more bearable. I would just have to find the people that understood.
I timed my trip to coincide with Jenna's birthday (the one that I helped move), she was turning twenty four. All of her cohorts were meeting her in Maine and it was going to be a non-stop 3 day celebration. She is one of the funniest people I know and we laughed for most of the five hour trip to Maine. Her wit is laser sharp and her one liners will slay anyone, I crumble into hysterics. Back East you know how much someone loves you by how much they insult you and she didn't let up on me once. She kept calling me Hollywood and telling me I needed to pick up the pace and why was I so depressed because she would catch me staring into space. I'm a thinker and she is full throttle from the minute she wakes up. She was ranked all Western Massachusetts female athlete of the year, she is tall with freckles and the most beautiful blue eyes. Oh and she likes girls. Yep. And from what I saw she can charm the pants off of anyone, man or woman. She had all the party girls in a tizzy. Her charisma is lethal. I was never made fun of so much in a three day span and yet I never felt more loved. Ahh family.
The house was on high tilt all weekend. Living in Hollywood I have not witnessed the amount of partying like I saw at the house on the hill in Maine. These girls were wild and did not stop until my aunt had to go out into the yard at four in the morning to tell them to get into the house and stop singing at the top of their lungs. We spent our days sunning on the dock at Moose Pond. It was beautiful. The water was super clean. We were surrounded by loons and my aunt told me that loons only hang in clean water. My uncle's house is positioned where you can see the whole pond from his back picture window. It is glorious and green with trees as far as your eyes can see. The view reminds me that God is indeed the greatest artist in the world. It is heaven here in Maine. It is the way life should be.
The party train left on Sunday night and I was left with my aunt and uncle and my two other cousins. It was calm and peaceful and our time was spent boating, cooking, sleeping, power walking, reading and watching movies. A home cooked meal every night. It was delicious.
Now this is where it gets a bit surreal. It has to do with the six degrees of separation. Well I am two degrees from President Obama. I know, shocking huh? Two people away from Obama. White House Correspondents dinner in my future, maybe? My cousin Karin is a brainiac. A bona fide genius. She works for JP Morgan and brokers deals in the 100 million dollar range and she's not even thirty yet! If I'm not mistaken she just closed a deal for 725 million. The rest of us stand in awe of her wheeling and dealing. I only saw this kind of wealth on TV when I used to watch shows like Dallas and Dynasty as a kid. Anyway, she got into Wharton Executive Business school and lo and behold her classmate is Reggie Love, President Obama's personal assistant. She is friends with him now and all because she didn't know who he was at first. All her other classmates were jocking him and she knew he worked at the White House but didn't know what he did. One day she asked him who his boss was and he said "President Obama". She said "well I know that but who do you have to report to?" He said "President Obama." She was a little taken aback and it had now made sense that so many people approached him when they were out on the town. So my cousin then Reggie and then the President. I never thought that I would ever have an "in" in the political world. Crazier things have happened.
I poured my heart out to my cousin Amy, she is the middle girl and she is a teacher. She is a listener and a great shoulder to lean on. I talked about my mistakes and my hopes and she reassured me that I was on the right path. She has the sweetest speaking voice and I felt ok telling her my secrets. She told me to keep going on my path because it was the right one. I come from a land of hard work, kept words, home cooked meals, boat rides on the lake, ski trips on the mountain and a family of good stock. I left Maine standing up straighter.
Cut to the Hurricane Irene. I mean don't believe the hype, at least where I was staying, in a sleepy suburban town just west of Boston. I have never seen so many people excited and panicked for a pending "disaster". It was all over the news and two hours before it hit my mother swore that we would be in the basement hiding in a corner with bottled water and cheese and crackers. With my family there is always food involved. Anyway on the day of impending doom I slept late. I opened the shade in my room and it was rainy and windy, I stared and watched the leaves fall to the ground for about an hour. Everything was so green, it reminded me of when I trekked through the Costa Rican rainforest with a an ex-boyfriend and his family. I saw banana leaves the size of me. Well now I was in New England and totally loving the "chaos" that was about to ensue. I told my mother that it was just going to be rainy and she cut me off quicly saying "the eye is going to hit a 2pm" she breathed heavy delivering the news and I realized that this was the most excitement she had experienced in years. When the "eye of the storm" finally came and went I put on my sneakers and my headphones and went for a walk. It was absolutely beautiful. Island weather. It was tropical and the air smelled fresh. I was so happy. I looked into the lives of others, the whole scene, the gorgeous homes that I walk past with the SUV's, a mom, a dad, and 2.5 kids. I will return to Los Angeles soon, and my life is about as far from this idyllic setting as you can get. I'm excited to get back to business though and I am proud to call it my home now. I will always be a Boston girl at heart and while I can, I enjoy my neighborhood walks here in New England. I drink it in and take it back with me.
When I land on the west coast I will put my armor on for the hustle and bustle of it all. The night before my flight I pay a visit to my Uncle Gerry and Auntie Ruth to say goodbye. Before I leave my uncle tells me that he has something for me. He goes upstairs to his room and pulls out a bible, it has been in his top drawer for over 30 years. It belonged to my grandfather, the only father I ever knew and he kept it there ever since he passed. It is tattered and worn and some of the pages are falling out. I am overcome with love and I thank him. I will cherish it forever.
Later on, I turn to my favorite scripture, the one that says, "guard your heart and be wary of wolves in sheep's clothing." I've always preferred Edward to Jacob anyway, at least with a vampire you know what you're getting and my oh my are they sexy. Life really is about the choices you make. I forgot to put sunblock on and I burnt my knees. I chose to walk in the rain and came out on the other side in the sun. When I board my flight to California my mother kisses me goodbye and says "the birds always sing after a storm."
Yes they do.
Anyway, back to moving my cousin to the cleaned up, gentrified, 2011 version of Sommerville. It was 90 degrees and humid. I wore my grey skinny jeans and that was a big mistake, they were stuck to me by the end of the day. It was like moving someone and they lived inside of the steam room at the YMCA. Hot, hot, hot, humid, humid, humid, and SWAMPY. It was me, my cousin, my aunt and my uncle. We grabbed dressers, clothes, tables, dishes, a matress, a television and a plethora of other stuff that we just threw in boxes. It took us about 6 hours and then we hopped in my cousins car and made the five hour drive to Maine. As we crossed the state line in New Hampshire, I looked up into the sky and it was a peach color at 6 o'clock at night, every ten minutes I would see a lightning bolt stretch across the sky and I thought about my childhood. I am from moody territory. The east coast is unpredictable and real. I took a deep breath and remembered everything that I came from and it made my time in Los Angeles all the more bearable. I would just have to find the people that understood.
I timed my trip to coincide with Jenna's birthday (the one that I helped move), she was turning twenty four. All of her cohorts were meeting her in Maine and it was going to be a non-stop 3 day celebration. She is one of the funniest people I know and we laughed for most of the five hour trip to Maine. Her wit is laser sharp and her one liners will slay anyone, I crumble into hysterics. Back East you know how much someone loves you by how much they insult you and she didn't let up on me once. She kept calling me Hollywood and telling me I needed to pick up the pace and why was I so depressed because she would catch me staring into space. I'm a thinker and she is full throttle from the minute she wakes up. She was ranked all Western Massachusetts female athlete of the year, she is tall with freckles and the most beautiful blue eyes. Oh and she likes girls. Yep. And from what I saw she can charm the pants off of anyone, man or woman. She had all the party girls in a tizzy. Her charisma is lethal. I was never made fun of so much in a three day span and yet I never felt more loved. Ahh family.
The house was on high tilt all weekend. Living in Hollywood I have not witnessed the amount of partying like I saw at the house on the hill in Maine. These girls were wild and did not stop until my aunt had to go out into the yard at four in the morning to tell them to get into the house and stop singing at the top of their lungs. We spent our days sunning on the dock at Moose Pond. It was beautiful. The water was super clean. We were surrounded by loons and my aunt told me that loons only hang in clean water. My uncle's house is positioned where you can see the whole pond from his back picture window. It is glorious and green with trees as far as your eyes can see. The view reminds me that God is indeed the greatest artist in the world. It is heaven here in Maine. It is the way life should be.
The party train left on Sunday night and I was left with my aunt and uncle and my two other cousins. It was calm and peaceful and our time was spent boating, cooking, sleeping, power walking, reading and watching movies. A home cooked meal every night. It was delicious.
Now this is where it gets a bit surreal. It has to do with the six degrees of separation. Well I am two degrees from President Obama. I know, shocking huh? Two people away from Obama. White House Correspondents dinner in my future, maybe? My cousin Karin is a brainiac. A bona fide genius. She works for JP Morgan and brokers deals in the 100 million dollar range and she's not even thirty yet! If I'm not mistaken she just closed a deal for 725 million. The rest of us stand in awe of her wheeling and dealing. I only saw this kind of wealth on TV when I used to watch shows like Dallas and Dynasty as a kid. Anyway, she got into Wharton Executive Business school and lo and behold her classmate is Reggie Love, President Obama's personal assistant. She is friends with him now and all because she didn't know who he was at first. All her other classmates were jocking him and she knew he worked at the White House but didn't know what he did. One day she asked him who his boss was and he said "President Obama". She said "well I know that but who do you have to report to?" He said "President Obama." She was a little taken aback and it had now made sense that so many people approached him when they were out on the town. So my cousin then Reggie and then the President. I never thought that I would ever have an "in" in the political world. Crazier things have happened.
I poured my heart out to my cousin Amy, she is the middle girl and she is a teacher. She is a listener and a great shoulder to lean on. I talked about my mistakes and my hopes and she reassured me that I was on the right path. She has the sweetest speaking voice and I felt ok telling her my secrets. She told me to keep going on my path because it was the right one. I come from a land of hard work, kept words, home cooked meals, boat rides on the lake, ski trips on the mountain and a family of good stock. I left Maine standing up straighter.
Cut to the Hurricane Irene. I mean don't believe the hype, at least where I was staying, in a sleepy suburban town just west of Boston. I have never seen so many people excited and panicked for a pending "disaster". It was all over the news and two hours before it hit my mother swore that we would be in the basement hiding in a corner with bottled water and cheese and crackers. With my family there is always food involved. Anyway on the day of impending doom I slept late. I opened the shade in my room and it was rainy and windy, I stared and watched the leaves fall to the ground for about an hour. Everything was so green, it reminded me of when I trekked through the Costa Rican rainforest with a an ex-boyfriend and his family. I saw banana leaves the size of me. Well now I was in New England and totally loving the "chaos" that was about to ensue. I told my mother that it was just going to be rainy and she cut me off quicly saying "the eye is going to hit a 2pm" she breathed heavy delivering the news and I realized that this was the most excitement she had experienced in years. When the "eye of the storm" finally came and went I put on my sneakers and my headphones and went for a walk. It was absolutely beautiful. Island weather. It was tropical and the air smelled fresh. I was so happy. I looked into the lives of others, the whole scene, the gorgeous homes that I walk past with the SUV's, a mom, a dad, and 2.5 kids. I will return to Los Angeles soon, and my life is about as far from this idyllic setting as you can get. I'm excited to get back to business though and I am proud to call it my home now. I will always be a Boston girl at heart and while I can, I enjoy my neighborhood walks here in New England. I drink it in and take it back with me.
When I land on the west coast I will put my armor on for the hustle and bustle of it all. The night before my flight I pay a visit to my Uncle Gerry and Auntie Ruth to say goodbye. Before I leave my uncle tells me that he has something for me. He goes upstairs to his room and pulls out a bible, it has been in his top drawer for over 30 years. It belonged to my grandfather, the only father I ever knew and he kept it there ever since he passed. It is tattered and worn and some of the pages are falling out. I am overcome with love and I thank him. I will cherish it forever.
Later on, I turn to my favorite scripture, the one that says, "guard your heart and be wary of wolves in sheep's clothing." I've always preferred Edward to Jacob anyway, at least with a vampire you know what you're getting and my oh my are they sexy. Life really is about the choices you make. I forgot to put sunblock on and I burnt my knees. I chose to walk in the rain and came out on the other side in the sun. When I board my flight to California my mother kisses me goodbye and says "the birds always sing after a storm."
Yes they do.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Who Knew?
I found myself on a soundstage today assisting a photographer/brilliant nerd shooting props for a pitch to do the main titles for a top TV show. He is the husband of a friend and she was too tired to go, so I tagged along. I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "What about this angle?' and "How about this lighting?" I wondered if he regretted the decision to take me along. All he did was ask me about my novel, whether or not I was on my first draft or what have you. He gave me the low down on the latest writing software and usually I tune out when it comes to that techie software but he explained it from the vantage point of an artist and I was sold. On the drive home he explained the four minute car/death scene of Julianne Moore in Children of Men and again I was riveted, hanging on to his every word. I don't surround myself with people that pay that much attention to detail, probably because I can barely pick up the clothes from my bedroom floor. But that's probably why he is one of the most in demand photographer/director's in town. He has won an Emmy, and that is what you need to do to win awards, pay attention to detail. I have a lot to learn, yet he listened to me, welcomed my creativity. It was pretty fabulous, I felt like I was bringing my vision to the table and it was appreciated.
We arrived at Manhattan Beach studios around 5 o'clock. These studios were built for David E. Kelley so he could work close to his home at the beach. He's from Boston. I'm from Boston. I did a pilot for him once, but never met him. Maybe someday we will meet. My boss and I wanted to shoot outside, so we were racing against the sun. I was my usually worrisome self, pushing him along to move at a faster pace, snapping at the security guard when it took 15 minutes to let us onto the lot. The whole time, the man I was working for, kept his cool and didn't stress out once. Is that the key to success? Not stressing? Anyway I constantly looked at the sun going behind the clouds and I got anxiety. His response as he set up two cameras, switched lenses and set up a monitor, "So are you obsessed with writing your novel?" Why is he asking me this, the sun is going down!! "I'm frustrated, I have writers block and I don't know how to end it." "Ah, I see." he responded. "Visuals always help in that situation, have photos near the writing, or go to Gettyimages.com for inspiration/" Oh my God, I rush too much, that's probably why I never get anywhere or get to where I want to go to at a rapid pace.
We were shooting the props for a TV show that I auditioned for last week. I obviously didn't get the part. They cast an African American Senator and his wife was African American as well. Phew. It had nothing to do with my acting ability. I ran into my friends boyfriend, he was cast as a series regular and was freaking out that I was there on set. He looked different when I saw him. He was wearing a suit and looked very handsome, I can see why my friend fell for him. He was feverishly texting me to come visit him on set, I couldn't, I was loading camera equipment, I wish I could be that glamorous.
I learned so much today and I will continue it for days and days to come. I love when I have to stop, look at the ground and wrap my head around the four thousand dollar lens that was just thrown on to my desk, that some genius has told me to put on his camera. My hands shook, I was nervous, but I did it. I will wake up again tomorrow and do it all again and probably learn about some other crazy film sequence in some film I've never seen.
Knowledge is power and it keeps the lights from getting shut off.
We arrived at Manhattan Beach studios around 5 o'clock. These studios were built for David E. Kelley so he could work close to his home at the beach. He's from Boston. I'm from Boston. I did a pilot for him once, but never met him. Maybe someday we will meet. My boss and I wanted to shoot outside, so we were racing against the sun. I was my usually worrisome self, pushing him along to move at a faster pace, snapping at the security guard when it took 15 minutes to let us onto the lot. The whole time, the man I was working for, kept his cool and didn't stress out once. Is that the key to success? Not stressing? Anyway I constantly looked at the sun going behind the clouds and I got anxiety. His response as he set up two cameras, switched lenses and set up a monitor, "So are you obsessed with writing your novel?" Why is he asking me this, the sun is going down!! "I'm frustrated, I have writers block and I don't know how to end it." "Ah, I see." he responded. "Visuals always help in that situation, have photos near the writing, or go to Gettyimages.com for inspiration/" Oh my God, I rush too much, that's probably why I never get anywhere or get to where I want to go to at a rapid pace.
We were shooting the props for a TV show that I auditioned for last week. I obviously didn't get the part. They cast an African American Senator and his wife was African American as well. Phew. It had nothing to do with my acting ability. I ran into my friends boyfriend, he was cast as a series regular and was freaking out that I was there on set. He looked different when I saw him. He was wearing a suit and looked very handsome, I can see why my friend fell for him. He was feverishly texting me to come visit him on set, I couldn't, I was loading camera equipment, I wish I could be that glamorous.
I learned so much today and I will continue it for days and days to come. I love when I have to stop, look at the ground and wrap my head around the four thousand dollar lens that was just thrown on to my desk, that some genius has told me to put on his camera. My hands shook, I was nervous, but I did it. I will wake up again tomorrow and do it all again and probably learn about some other crazy film sequence in some film I've never seen.
Knowledge is power and it keeps the lights from getting shut off.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Grace
To do things with grace either comes naturally or with a lot of practice. I've been told I'm a natural and thank God for it. Grace is smiling and loving when you wander into uncharted territory knocking on doors that don't open. It's knowing when to make your exit and knowing when to not look back. Please and thank you are a given and kind words soothe the soul. I've maintained grace when the floors were dirty and my music wasn't appreciated. I rely on God's grace when I talk to him at night and I can't sleep. He tells me to go when I don't want to and I listen. In the end I am happy. It took some meandering but it was worth it. I let go and see where the next chapter takes me.
I read for a new TV show last week. I did a decent job in the room, it had been a while so I was a little rusty. In the end it's all about your confidence, can you pull off holding your own on a network television show. My coach says I'll get my mojo back once I start playing the game more. The casting director used to drink at the bar where I worked at years ago so we shared a laugh and were able to catch up. Everyone I knew back in the day is coming up, it's so cool to see the fruits of people's labor. The same thing happened when I auditioned on Friday for a big national commercial, the CD was one of my regular customers as well and we talked about all the characters that used to hang out at the Formosa. We laughed. It was nice, then I did my thing and it felt right. It was fun. I think this is how it's supposed to be.
The shift in perspective has been extraordinary. It doesn't have to be so grim all the time. I had lunch on a balcony overlooking the beach in Malibu today. It was special and beautiful, a slice of the world that I had never seen before. The West Coast is truly spectacular and on that note I will fly east next week. I will travel to Massachusetts, Maine and New York. I cannot wait. I'm turning the pages in a frenzy, peeking at the next chapter and it looks delicious.
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Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Morning Glory
I rolled over and slowly opened my eyes. The sunlight was peeking through my blinds and it looked like it was going to be a hot day. I realized that 6 in the morning is one of my favorite times of the day if I can manage to get my ass out of bed. I'm usually only up at that time if I have a call time for an acting job, otherwise I can't be bothered. Magical things seem to happen though when I start my day at the break of dawn and I think it may be God's way of saying "get with the program girl." The morning light is very flattering, rich with a sepia tone and there are almost sparkles floating in the air. The vibe is fresh with beginnings and I, for sure, am definitely moving in slow motion. I usually can't articulate a sentence before 11am, so I just go through the motions, nodding and grunting if I have to.
This morning I had to be at the Art Center of Pasadena, it rests on top of a hill and the views are breathtaking. I found a quick route, it took me 30 minutes and my Pink CD and coffee were my carpool buddies, they made the journey better. I threw on a dress, didn't brush my hair and had not a stitch of makeup on. I pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes early, the students were buzzing about and I was still amazed that anyone could have that energy before 8am. I parked, grabbed my purse, checked into the model office and found the classroom I had to be in. Today is a figure drawing class and I am draped in a white sheet. The teacher was late so I found the cafeteria, still stumbling like a zombie, I ordered eggs and sausage, it cost 2 bucks, ahh student life. I felt normal as I sat down and ate a decent breakfast, I asked a girl with blue hair for the wireless password and I was in business. When I got back to the classroom the teacher still wasn't there which meant I didn't have to hit my mark yet. The students were gathered around with their easels, waiting eagerly and I felt guilty, I should probably do the right thing and start without the teacher. I hadn't really noticed my surroundings yet and was just getting from point A to point B. I messed around with the props and stands on the miniature stage and I set everything where I wanted it. My back was to the students and I turned around to ask them how they started class?, how many poses?, the length of them? blah, blah, blah. When I looked up I was snapped into the reality of my situation, there was the most beautiful young man sitting smack dab in front of me. He was about 23 years old, long hair, scruffy, puffy morning eyes, brown, I have always loved brown eyes and looked like he just walked out of a Bernardo Bertolucci movie. "You can start with 5 poses, 5 minutes each." he said. It was as if the room was spinning and he was the only face that I saw. My cheeks started to go red and I was worried that I may have missed a spot when I shaved with my eyes closed in the shower. He never broke his gaze and I had to take my clothes off in front of him. Thank God, the class was focusing on drawing with fabric draped on me so I could strategically cover my jiggly bits.
I picked up my phone and set my timer, I looked at him and he was still staring. I turned around and slid my dress off my shoulders, grabbed the white sheet, got it ready, let my dress fall to the ground and wrapped the sheet around me quickly. He was already sketching and my heart was pounding, I wondered if he could hear it. I took a deep breath and settled into the pose. I glanced down at his pad and he was good, he drew me beautifully and now I was inspired. When my timer went off, I dropped the sheet to the floor, laid on on my side resting on my arm and stared right at him. He ripped a page off threw it down and started another sketch. It was on. I watched him as he drew, he didn't notice because he was working so I could really see him. He tilted his head to the side and his lips made a slight pout when he shifted his pencil on the pad, switching his focus to a different part of my body. His hair would fall over one eye and he would put it behind his ear. My timer went off again, I changed the pose and he looked at my face, I turned away and adjusted into a comfortable position and the dance would start all over again. The connection was sweet and it was real.
This sure beat the "rolls in the hay" my Hollywood girlfriends would tell me about. How boring. This was my version of a one night stand that I never had. When the class was over, I gathered my things. He was standing by the door and I had to walk by him. I awkwardly put my sunglasses on my head and slung my purse over my shoulder. I rubbed the rest of the morning from my eyes, probably because I was nervous and needed something to do. He zipped up his bag and turned around just as I got to the door. "Bye", he said.
"Goodbye", I smiled and grabbed the doorknob, never looking back. I will probably never see him again. I giggled to myself and thought I need to get up early more often. This morning is etched into my brain like an old black and white movie reminding me of what life is all about.
LOVE.
This morning I had to be at the Art Center of Pasadena, it rests on top of a hill and the views are breathtaking. I found a quick route, it took me 30 minutes and my Pink CD and coffee were my carpool buddies, they made the journey better. I threw on a dress, didn't brush my hair and had not a stitch of makeup on. I pulled into the parking lot 10 minutes early, the students were buzzing about and I was still amazed that anyone could have that energy before 8am. I parked, grabbed my purse, checked into the model office and found the classroom I had to be in. Today is a figure drawing class and I am draped in a white sheet. The teacher was late so I found the cafeteria, still stumbling like a zombie, I ordered eggs and sausage, it cost 2 bucks, ahh student life. I felt normal as I sat down and ate a decent breakfast, I asked a girl with blue hair for the wireless password and I was in business. When I got back to the classroom the teacher still wasn't there which meant I didn't have to hit my mark yet. The students were gathered around with their easels, waiting eagerly and I felt guilty, I should probably do the right thing and start without the teacher. I hadn't really noticed my surroundings yet and was just getting from point A to point B. I messed around with the props and stands on the miniature stage and I set everything where I wanted it. My back was to the students and I turned around to ask them how they started class?, how many poses?, the length of them? blah, blah, blah. When I looked up I was snapped into the reality of my situation, there was the most beautiful young man sitting smack dab in front of me. He was about 23 years old, long hair, scruffy, puffy morning eyes, brown, I have always loved brown eyes and looked like he just walked out of a Bernardo Bertolucci movie. "You can start with 5 poses, 5 minutes each." he said. It was as if the room was spinning and he was the only face that I saw. My cheeks started to go red and I was worried that I may have missed a spot when I shaved with my eyes closed in the shower. He never broke his gaze and I had to take my clothes off in front of him. Thank God, the class was focusing on drawing with fabric draped on me so I could strategically cover my jiggly bits.
I picked up my phone and set my timer, I looked at him and he was still staring. I turned around and slid my dress off my shoulders, grabbed the white sheet, got it ready, let my dress fall to the ground and wrapped the sheet around me quickly. He was already sketching and my heart was pounding, I wondered if he could hear it. I took a deep breath and settled into the pose. I glanced down at his pad and he was good, he drew me beautifully and now I was inspired. When my timer went off, I dropped the sheet to the floor, laid on on my side resting on my arm and stared right at him. He ripped a page off threw it down and started another sketch. It was on. I watched him as he drew, he didn't notice because he was working so I could really see him. He tilted his head to the side and his lips made a slight pout when he shifted his pencil on the pad, switching his focus to a different part of my body. His hair would fall over one eye and he would put it behind his ear. My timer went off again, I changed the pose and he looked at my face, I turned away and adjusted into a comfortable position and the dance would start all over again. The connection was sweet and it was real.
This sure beat the "rolls in the hay" my Hollywood girlfriends would tell me about. How boring. This was my version of a one night stand that I never had. When the class was over, I gathered my things. He was standing by the door and I had to walk by him. I awkwardly put my sunglasses on my head and slung my purse over my shoulder. I rubbed the rest of the morning from my eyes, probably because I was nervous and needed something to do. He zipped up his bag and turned around just as I got to the door. "Bye", he said.
"Goodbye", I smiled and grabbed the doorknob, never looking back. I will probably never see him again. I giggled to myself and thought I need to get up early more often. This morning is etched into my brain like an old black and white movie reminding me of what life is all about.
LOVE.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Walking the Dog
Yesterday I learned about the fruits of the spirit. Kindness, love, patience, meekness, humility, and there are a few more but my notebook is in my car and I don't wanna break up the flow of the click clacks on my keyboard. When you're in a place like a Hollywood, the fruits of the spirit are a lil underrated to say the least. They are trumped by ambition, drive, calculation, greed, manipulation, power and status. Although, drive is good, I often pray to get my engine started on a daily basis and ambition can be fruitful if coming from the right area of your soul, and power well it should be wielded with a tender hand in my opinion. The rest are rotten tomatoes. Calculation, greed, and manipulation don't wear well, especially on women, maybe that's why they get the botox, to hide the battle scars of plotting. I've managed to stand firm in the fruits of the spirit although at times slightly skewed. Being kind to those whom I wanted to "like" me. That was stupid. I was raised to "do unto others as you would want them to do unto you" but I learned real quick that not everyone got that pamphlet.
So I water my fruit and adore when certain ones are in season. Nothing can beat the intoxication of encountering a kind heart. One that is bursting at the seams with love. Patience is really a virtue. It takes lots of discipline. I am thankful for the patient ones.
I have grown very fond of the dog that I have been taking care of for the past month. We have become friends. She follows me everywhere and just waits on me no matter what I am doing. I've realized it's been a long time since I allowed myself to look forward to something and everyday when I come home I am so damn happy to see that dog. She is the sweetest. She sits at my feet when I read a book. She sleeps at the foot of the bed. She hops on the couch when I'm watching a movie and when I talk to her I swear she knows what I'm saying. She tilts her head and acknowledges my thoughts.
I have been helping a couple of my friends move. I really like doing this. It's like a workout for me. Lugging all those boxes. It's exciting, these new beginnings. I think I am vicariously living through them and pretending that I am moving and starting over. Well I feel like I'm always starting over anyway and for now the only movement I will be doing is taking my new best friend, (this furry creature staring at me as I write) on a walk :)
So I water my fruit and adore when certain ones are in season. Nothing can beat the intoxication of encountering a kind heart. One that is bursting at the seams with love. Patience is really a virtue. It takes lots of discipline. I am thankful for the patient ones.
I have grown very fond of the dog that I have been taking care of for the past month. We have become friends. She follows me everywhere and just waits on me no matter what I am doing. I've realized it's been a long time since I allowed myself to look forward to something and everyday when I come home I am so damn happy to see that dog. She is the sweetest. She sits at my feet when I read a book. She sleeps at the foot of the bed. She hops on the couch when I'm watching a movie and when I talk to her I swear she knows what I'm saying. She tilts her head and acknowledges my thoughts.
I have been helping a couple of my friends move. I really like doing this. It's like a workout for me. Lugging all those boxes. It's exciting, these new beginnings. I think I am vicariously living through them and pretending that I am moving and starting over. Well I feel like I'm always starting over anyway and for now the only movement I will be doing is taking my new best friend, (this furry creature staring at me as I write) on a walk :)
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Summertime
I am wearing a black skirt and a grey tank top. It is summer. My freckles are out and my hair is now long and wild. I feel prettiest in the summer. I have stumbled upon an event at the prayer house that I frequent. Everyone is wearing white. There is some sort of theme tonight with the teaching. I sit on the side in my dark colors. I feel like Mary Magdalene. I always like her. She was faithful in the end. Confidante.
It is hot. People are dancing and singing. There is a guy in the corner that really knows how to wave a flag, it is bright, shiny red. I ask my friend what it symbolizes. He doesn't know. I make up something in my head. It's celebratory. I grab the leaflet that I was given when I walked in the front door. I use it as a fan. All I can think about is getting into the night air. The room is full of hipsters. There is a guy in jean shorts and an expensive shirt. He has blonde hair and wears a thin gold bandana thingy across his forehead. He would be cute if he cut his hair and stopped trying so hard. He has a wedding band on. Next.
I wake up the next morning and wonder what my next chapter will be like. I have learned to draw lines in the sand and sort of communicate what I want and need. Go figure. Don't know why I didn't do this sooner. I have been such a scaredy cat for so long and I let everyone else have all the fun. The good girl. That was me. Never wanting to ruffle anyone's feathers. I realize now that is was better to be that than anything else because that was me, is me. Now I can still be good along with all of the other life ingredients that make it exciting. I like accomplishing things. This, I have been doing as of late. Even if it is just maintaining some sort of stability and consistency. I am not so easily thrown by the whirwind of drama. I sway from side to side but I usually almost never end up on the floor anymore.
I have a bunch of movies that I need to watch in the next month. They just fell out of the sky courtesy of the DGA. I'm a lucky girl sometimes. I started watching Interview With A Vampire last night. The opening scene was luscious and Brad Pitt was beautiful. I remember when I worked at Chanel in New York and that movie had just come out. We used to get all of the magazines delivered to the office. BP was on the cover of Vanity Fair and the caption said "Golden Boy". I kept it in the bottom drawer of my desk and I would look at it when my boss went to lunch. Back then I had a shitty leftover college boyfriend that would not go away no matter how much I shooed him. I often worked late and would come home to an empty apartment on the west side of the park. It smelled of a fresh shower. He made sure to bail for the local bar before I arrived. I used to think that's how life was when you grew up. Lackluster. Then I decided I could change it. I hopped a plane for Los Angeles in the middle of winter and never looked back. I have met the "Golden Boy", he is still very handsome and has impeccable manners. My palette is bright and vibrant. Everywhere I turn I have a choice and this time I choose the best.
It is hot. People are dancing and singing. There is a guy in the corner that really knows how to wave a flag, it is bright, shiny red. I ask my friend what it symbolizes. He doesn't know. I make up something in my head. It's celebratory. I grab the leaflet that I was given when I walked in the front door. I use it as a fan. All I can think about is getting into the night air. The room is full of hipsters. There is a guy in jean shorts and an expensive shirt. He has blonde hair and wears a thin gold bandana thingy across his forehead. He would be cute if he cut his hair and stopped trying so hard. He has a wedding band on. Next.
I wake up the next morning and wonder what my next chapter will be like. I have learned to draw lines in the sand and sort of communicate what I want and need. Go figure. Don't know why I didn't do this sooner. I have been such a scaredy cat for so long and I let everyone else have all the fun. The good girl. That was me. Never wanting to ruffle anyone's feathers. I realize now that is was better to be that than anything else because that was me, is me. Now I can still be good along with all of the other life ingredients that make it exciting. I like accomplishing things. This, I have been doing as of late. Even if it is just maintaining some sort of stability and consistency. I am not so easily thrown by the whirwind of drama. I sway from side to side but I usually almost never end up on the floor anymore.
I have a bunch of movies that I need to watch in the next month. They just fell out of the sky courtesy of the DGA. I'm a lucky girl sometimes. I started watching Interview With A Vampire last night. The opening scene was luscious and Brad Pitt was beautiful. I remember when I worked at Chanel in New York and that movie had just come out. We used to get all of the magazines delivered to the office. BP was on the cover of Vanity Fair and the caption said "Golden Boy". I kept it in the bottom drawer of my desk and I would look at it when my boss went to lunch. Back then I had a shitty leftover college boyfriend that would not go away no matter how much I shooed him. I often worked late and would come home to an empty apartment on the west side of the park. It smelled of a fresh shower. He made sure to bail for the local bar before I arrived. I used to think that's how life was when you grew up. Lackluster. Then I decided I could change it. I hopped a plane for Los Angeles in the middle of winter and never looked back. I have met the "Golden Boy", he is still very handsome and has impeccable manners. My palette is bright and vibrant. Everywhere I turn I have a choice and this time I choose the best.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Inside It All
There is an eruption taking place. It is black, red and blue. I am walking through a fog. Every way I turn there seems to be some sort of blood dripping. It ranges from a picked mosquito bite to a full on broken heart. Bursted at the seams. Popped from too much love flowing in the wrong direction. The strength of the current caused the walls to cave in and people were brought to their knees. I cannot escape. It is ok. I am humble and I am new. The entrances and exits are struck with impeccable marks. The lighting is off and the lines of ruin are visible under the black light. The twister has almost blown the house down. Thank God it was built in the 30's.
My path is illuminated with my knowledge, acquired with the price of my own pain. It is clear and my feet are comfortable walking on the pebbles of life as I've known it. I want to paint the inside of my words the color of my feelings. They are rich in the pigment of my imagination. My touch is stained with the rainbow of their depth. I am still and silent. Put in a place where I belong. Reality. Kindness wanders into uncharted waters and the sails are overturned. I gulp for air and remember the territory that I bought. Irrationality. Hollywood. The rules are different. I am winning. A different game. The players disqualify themselves. I brush my keyboard and play the letters like a piano. I have always wanted to learn. Classical. That is the way I conduct myself. In the utmost. I feel defeated when I don't meet my match. It is common. It hurts. The currents wash it all away. I pick up a seashell and listen like when I was a kid. The breeze smells like summer and tiny explosions are heard in the distance. It equals what I have invited. I am learning. I never liked Algebra or Geometry and yet I sat through it. I failed. I moved on. I found what I was good at.
My path is illuminated with my knowledge, acquired with the price of my own pain. It is clear and my feet are comfortable walking on the pebbles of life as I've known it. I want to paint the inside of my words the color of my feelings. They are rich in the pigment of my imagination. My touch is stained with the rainbow of their depth. I am still and silent. Put in a place where I belong. Reality. Kindness wanders into uncharted waters and the sails are overturned. I gulp for air and remember the territory that I bought. Irrationality. Hollywood. The rules are different. I am winning. A different game. The players disqualify themselves. I brush my keyboard and play the letters like a piano. I have always wanted to learn. Classical. That is the way I conduct myself. In the utmost. I feel defeated when I don't meet my match. It is common. It hurts. The currents wash it all away. I pick up a seashell and listen like when I was a kid. The breeze smells like summer and tiny explosions are heard in the distance. It equals what I have invited. I am learning. I never liked Algebra or Geometry and yet I sat through it. I failed. I moved on. I found what I was good at.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Truth Serum
I am learning to be a good friend. It is an art. You don't always get what you think you want but you most always get what you need if you find the right person. It's like walking the tightrope in the circus finding these people. I think I have found my band of vaudevillians. They are a colorful bunch. Super talents with big squishy hearts like mine. Some of them I have known for years and the jury was out for a while but that was mostly my own stuff. This trust business is like treading in murky waters. One day you just have to go on faith and know that no matter what happens it will be ok. Life doesn't always have to be a soap opera even though I sure knew how to cast mine like one. I was very good at selecting the less than worthy sort. Like Luke Spencer on General Hospital full of deceit and lies. You know the ones that are only out for themselves. And I could cast some pretty good femme fatales too, they were super pretty and didn't bat an eye when they were stabbing you in the back. Ruthless Behavior could have been the name of my soap. I am so happy to be done with THAT chapter in my life.
No more drama, like the Mary J. Blige song. Although I do like a bit of good drama and I think it's because I came out of the womb of my single mom three weeks early. I was born in the eye of the emotional storm and it just kind of snowballed from there. With the gentle guidance of a few mentors I am now able to channel it all. I can be more real with my writing and more real with my peeps in general. The truth is often all you need. If you tell the truth no matter how hard it is it can make for a very interesting life. It's like when you have a crush on a boy and you think he feels the same way and he doesn't, sometimes that type of truth is a hard pill to swallow. But you do and miraculously someday out of nowhere another one appears and tells you that you're pretty and you believe him. He means it. He is telling the truth. I like those moments of truth.
I swam in the pool today and my freckles came out. I cooked dinner for friends. Marinated that piece of meat for two days, just call me Martha. It came out well if I do say so myself. We ate outside as the sun was setting and swapped stories. I am content. I am sleepy. Now I'm gonna watch Tangled and call it a day.
No more drama, like the Mary J. Blige song. Although I do like a bit of good drama and I think it's because I came out of the womb of my single mom three weeks early. I was born in the eye of the emotional storm and it just kind of snowballed from there. With the gentle guidance of a few mentors I am now able to channel it all. I can be more real with my writing and more real with my peeps in general. The truth is often all you need. If you tell the truth no matter how hard it is it can make for a very interesting life. It's like when you have a crush on a boy and you think he feels the same way and he doesn't, sometimes that type of truth is a hard pill to swallow. But you do and miraculously someday out of nowhere another one appears and tells you that you're pretty and you believe him. He means it. He is telling the truth. I like those moments of truth.
I swam in the pool today and my freckles came out. I cooked dinner for friends. Marinated that piece of meat for two days, just call me Martha. It came out well if I do say so myself. We ate outside as the sun was setting and swapped stories. I am content. I am sleepy. Now I'm gonna watch Tangled and call it a day.
The First Barbecue
I remember the days when I used to roller skate. It was at a roller rink right on the Massachusetts/Connecticut line, kind of the bad part of town. They played great music and I think acid wash jeans were in style and me and my girls wore them really tight. Those were the days. Now I have to do 100 leg lifts on each leg every day just to feel sassy in my skinny jeans. Time goes on. The beat goes on and you learn to roll with the punches. Everything seemed so easy back then. Carefree. Dinner was on the table every night at a certain time and the seasons were expected. Summer, Spring, Winter and Fall. I always bought new clothes every three months. It was very exciting and everyone talked about the weather. When it was changing and how it changed. Living in California there aren't any seasons and I wear my suede boots in June and my mother rolls her eyes. Whenever I go home to visit she says "no boots, they're scuffed." Well I like my boots, scuffs and all. They tell a story. I have walked miles.
My hair smells like chlorine and I ate at my first barbecue of the summer. Chicken breast, hamburgers, hot dogs and ribs. Yum. I went with a friend to a friends house. It was festive and the night was warm. Lots of smiles. I was happy. I laughed and it was real. I love when I feel like I have no where to be except where I am. Those times are rare but I hope to keep them coming to me more and more. I have just hit the tip of the ice berg when it comes to enjoying the present. This is a new experience for me. I am usually caught up in what happened to me or what could of been or if he could only be a certain way. At the end of the day none of that really matters and I think I have finally thrown in the towel. Offered up defeat to how I think things should be. It's not up to me. I only have to listen. Listen to what happens first thing in the morning and when I lay my head down on my pillow late at night. I always go to bed late. I'm a thinker and by the time I am done battling my thoughts I am exhausted.
I cleaned my car today. It was cathartic. The Armenian guys tried to hustle me into getting an eighty dollar detail. I told him I didn't have that kind of money and to please give me the days special. The manager started arguing with his employees in a foreign tongue. I just continued to rid my car of the empty coffee cups that accumulate on my travels. In the end, the special did my car just fine. It was shiny and I rolled down my window and blasted my Foster The People CD, a gift from my friend Grady. Number two is my favorite track, I play it over and over. Shiny car and new music on a summer day is all a girl could ask for...well that and maybe some corn on the cob.
My hair smells like chlorine and I ate at my first barbecue of the summer. Chicken breast, hamburgers, hot dogs and ribs. Yum. I went with a friend to a friends house. It was festive and the night was warm. Lots of smiles. I was happy. I laughed and it was real. I love when I feel like I have no where to be except where I am. Those times are rare but I hope to keep them coming to me more and more. I have just hit the tip of the ice berg when it comes to enjoying the present. This is a new experience for me. I am usually caught up in what happened to me or what could of been or if he could only be a certain way. At the end of the day none of that really matters and I think I have finally thrown in the towel. Offered up defeat to how I think things should be. It's not up to me. I only have to listen. Listen to what happens first thing in the morning and when I lay my head down on my pillow late at night. I always go to bed late. I'm a thinker and by the time I am done battling my thoughts I am exhausted.
I cleaned my car today. It was cathartic. The Armenian guys tried to hustle me into getting an eighty dollar detail. I told him I didn't have that kind of money and to please give me the days special. The manager started arguing with his employees in a foreign tongue. I just continued to rid my car of the empty coffee cups that accumulate on my travels. In the end, the special did my car just fine. It was shiny and I rolled down my window and blasted my Foster The People CD, a gift from my friend Grady. Number two is my favorite track, I play it over and over. Shiny car and new music on a summer day is all a girl could ask for...well that and maybe some corn on the cob.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Cooking In The Kitchen
So for the past week, I have been cooking in the kitchen. It's not my kitchen, somebody else's and it's super nice. Big marble chopping block, a wolf stove (damn those burners hit up fast, a far cry from my ancient electric stove), a super sleek stainless steel fridge that glides open and windows above the sink where I can overlook the beautiful garden as I do the dishes. It's a slice of heaven and it's mine for a month. I haven't left this haven except to go to the grocery store and buy more food. I'm on a budget so no eating out for this girl that aims to be in a bikini by July 4th. It's working. With all of these home cooked yummy morsels and garden fresh leafy greens (I walk to the vegetable garden every morning barefoot and pick red leaf lettuce and fresh basil!) the hourglass is shaping up rather nicely. The curves only work if you rock the waist and I'm about to spring her from frump central very soon. It's been a while since my bellybutton ring has seen the light of day.
It's turning out to be quite a lovely summer. I am taking it easy. Not scurrying around like I always do. I am trusting that everything will work itself out and I will be just fine. I dwelled in the world of the timid for a while and it was like wandering around in the desert. Everywhere I turned I hesitated. It was as if I had heat stroke and I was weak. Sometimes I would see things that weren't there. Reaching, I would want to drink from a fountain that wasn't real. It was only when I dug deeper into my courage that my story got back on track. Melancholy sang its song and I now settle into life as I know it. Just the facts mam, he said and I was made right again. The world is my oyster, it always has been. I just forgot for a bit. After all of these years in Los Angeles, I feel as though I am starting over. I've stayed the course and I am getting my swagger back one day at a time. My friends have helped me. Faith is so pretty and wise, she wears flowers in her hair and dances in the sunlight knowing that her next step is the right one. Bold is by her side, he holds her hand and looks to her when he goes, certain of his path.
Armed with my senses once again, I will swim, read, write, pray and think. Think about where I've been and where I want to go.
It's turning out to be quite a lovely summer. I am taking it easy. Not scurrying around like I always do. I am trusting that everything will work itself out and I will be just fine. I dwelled in the world of the timid for a while and it was like wandering around in the desert. Everywhere I turned I hesitated. It was as if I had heat stroke and I was weak. Sometimes I would see things that weren't there. Reaching, I would want to drink from a fountain that wasn't real. It was only when I dug deeper into my courage that my story got back on track. Melancholy sang its song and I now settle into life as I know it. Just the facts mam, he said and I was made right again. The world is my oyster, it always has been. I just forgot for a bit. After all of these years in Los Angeles, I feel as though I am starting over. I've stayed the course and I am getting my swagger back one day at a time. My friends have helped me. Faith is so pretty and wise, she wears flowers in her hair and dances in the sunlight knowing that her next step is the right one. Bold is by her side, he holds her hand and looks to her when he goes, certain of his path.
Armed with my senses once again, I will swim, read, write, pray and think. Think about where I've been and where I want to go.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
The Anatomy of Letting Go...
I was never one of those girls that had a plan when it came to a guy. I never talked about when I would get married or how many kids I would have. I was too busy falling for the guy with dreamy eyes that wrote poetry, could sing a tune and speak multiple languages. My college boyfriend did just that and then his shininess started to fade when I learned that he recycled poems and sang songs for all the girls. How dare he? I no longer felt special and he came off of his pedestal real quick. I also never thought I would marry him and yet I spent a big chunk of time with him. It took me forever to let go. I think the reason was I wanted him to be good. Once I accepted that some people choose not to lead with their goodness, I was able to bounce.
When it did come time to finally commit to "the one", I found him incredibly charming. Not a poet this time but a singer. Opera. He belted it. In Italian, French, Spanish and German. Not fair, he had a lot of ammunition. I still fought the idea of settling down tooth and nail. The women that I was hanging around with at the time thought I had struck gold. They planned my future for me and wrapped it up in a big bow. I listened to unhappy people and paid a high price. I felt like I was playing pin the tail on the donkey. That's not exactly the way to start a future with someone. Having people push you in a direction that you are "supposed to go", cheering you along the way, aimlessly hitting a target only to remove the blinders and realize that all you have gotten is an ass.
Letting go of the ass was easy. It was the letting go of my "future", the one I fought so hard against that was the tricky part. It was very difficult untangling from the expectations and ideals that I had talked myself into. Suddenly there was a plan that went south and I had to deal with it. That's why I never wanted it in the first place. Lo and behold I peeled myself from the life raft or rather the rotten piece of driftwood that my friends thought was so "great" and I began to grow. Slowly but surely I remember what courage was. I learned to never settle and I learned to stand on my own two feet. Every once in a while I still stumble and it stings but I get up quicker each time.
I sometimes stand on the battlefield of other's lives. On the sidelines away from the explosions. Bomb's spontaneously going off and they never knew that the timer was set. On standby, I wait until I am called to wade through the rubble of rights and wrongs. I often have to bite my tongue and just listen. Otherwise I will have flashbacks of hapless poet and want to attack some innocent bystander who has wandered onto enemy territory, over the line into my past. And then I remember to let it go.
At the moment I am alone. Letting go. The sun is setting and the sky is pink. My phone rings and cries are heard. I feel a lot and my heart aches. All I can do is pray. For the dawning of a new day. For the ability to walk in the direction that I am supposed to go and take the few that I love with me.
When it did come time to finally commit to "the one", I found him incredibly charming. Not a poet this time but a singer. Opera. He belted it. In Italian, French, Spanish and German. Not fair, he had a lot of ammunition. I still fought the idea of settling down tooth and nail. The women that I was hanging around with at the time thought I had struck gold. They planned my future for me and wrapped it up in a big bow. I listened to unhappy people and paid a high price. I felt like I was playing pin the tail on the donkey. That's not exactly the way to start a future with someone. Having people push you in a direction that you are "supposed to go", cheering you along the way, aimlessly hitting a target only to remove the blinders and realize that all you have gotten is an ass.
Letting go of the ass was easy. It was the letting go of my "future", the one I fought so hard against that was the tricky part. It was very difficult untangling from the expectations and ideals that I had talked myself into. Suddenly there was a plan that went south and I had to deal with it. That's why I never wanted it in the first place. Lo and behold I peeled myself from the life raft or rather the rotten piece of driftwood that my friends thought was so "great" and I began to grow. Slowly but surely I remember what courage was. I learned to never settle and I learned to stand on my own two feet. Every once in a while I still stumble and it stings but I get up quicker each time.
I sometimes stand on the battlefield of other's lives. On the sidelines away from the explosions. Bomb's spontaneously going off and they never knew that the timer was set. On standby, I wait until I am called to wade through the rubble of rights and wrongs. I often have to bite my tongue and just listen. Otherwise I will have flashbacks of hapless poet and want to attack some innocent bystander who has wandered onto enemy territory, over the line into my past. And then I remember to let it go.
At the moment I am alone. Letting go. The sun is setting and the sky is pink. My phone rings and cries are heard. I feel a lot and my heart aches. All I can do is pray. For the dawning of a new day. For the ability to walk in the direction that I am supposed to go and take the few that I love with me.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Say What? And Thank God
Oh, Los Angeles and adulthood makes for some very interesting scenarios. People come in and out of your life on a whim and in a way I have been trained to expect anything. They don't tell ya this stuff when you're a kid. You just meet your neighborhood friends at the sandbox, make some mud pies (I was on the front page of the newspaper once for this) and call it a day. And the same thing usually happens the next day. There was never any agenda and then you grow up.
I remember making new friends with this woman and her husband. They were my customers when I worked at the Formosa Cafe. A week after I met them, I was at their wedding. It was a trip and she was very sweet. Syrupy sweet. We used to laugh all of the time. I should've known that something might be rotten in Denmark when she asked me if I was just hanging out with her because she was an actress. I was taken aback and in the moment I was stumped for words. Newsflash, I was an actress too I just wasn't making as much money as her. She should of just said are you hanging out with me because I make more money than you. Weird. I wanted to grab my shovel and high tail it outta that sandbox right then and there but I lingered and it got worse. Every time I would go over to her house she would have me run an errand. I couldn't figure out why I was so exhausted when I hung out with her. Then I had my light bulb moment and realized I was working for the friendship. Sometimes straight up manual labor. Guess I didn't think I was enough, so I just did and did and outdid myself.
If only I knew then what I know now. Yada, yada, yada. That friendship was built on sand. No foundation. Wishy washy and conditional. The straw that broke the camels back was when she stopped calling me. Cut off. No explanation. Five years of "friendship" down the drain. It was sketchy and relieving at the same time. It was so hard to be her friend. It was like having a second job. So life has a way of working itself out and eventually I found some new friends. The clincher was something that happened last week. My friends neighbor goes to school with the conditional friend's son. When we put two and two together my friend told the son that he knew me. The son said that his parents stopped talking to me because I didn't help them out enough. Can you believe it!? I chuckled. And then I felt good. Good riddance. I learned so much from that experience. There are so many takers in this world. It's so important to find those with kind hearts and tender smiles.
Well, I'm back in the sandbox, making mud pies again. No conditions. I take my time and I don't have to stop off and get my friends their ingredients. They come equipped with their own.
I remember making new friends with this woman and her husband. They were my customers when I worked at the Formosa Cafe. A week after I met them, I was at their wedding. It was a trip and she was very sweet. Syrupy sweet. We used to laugh all of the time. I should've known that something might be rotten in Denmark when she asked me if I was just hanging out with her because she was an actress. I was taken aback and in the moment I was stumped for words. Newsflash, I was an actress too I just wasn't making as much money as her. She should of just said are you hanging out with me because I make more money than you. Weird. I wanted to grab my shovel and high tail it outta that sandbox right then and there but I lingered and it got worse. Every time I would go over to her house she would have me run an errand. I couldn't figure out why I was so exhausted when I hung out with her. Then I had my light bulb moment and realized I was working for the friendship. Sometimes straight up manual labor. Guess I didn't think I was enough, so I just did and did and outdid myself.
If only I knew then what I know now. Yada, yada, yada. That friendship was built on sand. No foundation. Wishy washy and conditional. The straw that broke the camels back was when she stopped calling me. Cut off. No explanation. Five years of "friendship" down the drain. It was sketchy and relieving at the same time. It was so hard to be her friend. It was like having a second job. So life has a way of working itself out and eventually I found some new friends. The clincher was something that happened last week. My friends neighbor goes to school with the conditional friend's son. When we put two and two together my friend told the son that he knew me. The son said that his parents stopped talking to me because I didn't help them out enough. Can you believe it!? I chuckled. And then I felt good. Good riddance. I learned so much from that experience. There are so many takers in this world. It's so important to find those with kind hearts and tender smiles.
Well, I'm back in the sandbox, making mud pies again. No conditions. I take my time and I don't have to stop off and get my friends their ingredients. They come equipped with their own.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
That Girl Again..
I am that girl again at Starbucks on her computer. The Hibiscus tea is tasty. There is a young couple sitting behind me and I just heard the girl say to the guy "do you think desire is a disease?" My ears perked up and I started to listen. He responded "no, but I think people are." I'm fascinated. I wonder if they are on a match.com date. As I listen closer, they are actors rehearsing a scene. I am riveted. The banter back and forth is rife with insecurity. In between running their lines, they exchange pleasantries. "Are you married?" he asked her. "Yes, for 9 years." She's 32. She's singing the same song I do. It's so hard to meet quality people out here. Amen to that sister. They are doing what most actors do when they get together to rehearse. They are chatting. About their motivation and how they feel in the scene. All the different ways they can deliver their lines. Blah, blah, blah. She's married to a director. She stated that very loudly. Her "husband the director." In my experience, dating a director is an interesting experience. I didn't know that I was until about half way through the date when I was wolfing down my spaghetti and he was offering me a part. I found him incredibly charming, nerdy and handsome behind his glasses. He sort of snuck up on me. I wasn't expecting to have a crush and I did. After the fact I would discover his roguish reputation but with me he was a gentleman. Maybe it's my freckles. He knew better than to pull any shenanigans. I still got the part.
The actors behind me sound fake. I want to whip around and coach them. Do nothing. Live truthfully. Why are they changing their speaking voice? Ugh. A dime a dozen. The characters that stroll through this Starbucks are colorful. I have strategically placed myself where I can see everything. Everyone has a hustle. The actors just got up and I quickly shut my computer. Oops. I hope they didn't see my scathing criticism, now I feel bad.
Anyway, I took my little brother to get his haircut today. He went to Pink's hairdresser. The cut is fabulous. Everywhere we went afterward people were staring. He looks like a movie star and he is sweet as pie to boot. I want to protect. I tell him all the horror stories of Hollywood. Sometimes I feel like I tell him too much but I want him prepared. I think I have scarred him. We went to the Grove and an agent came running up to him wanting to sign him on the spot. This has happened his whole life. Things just come to him. He's golden. He is 22 years old, tall, healthy, vibrant and smiles all the time. We laughed our asses off today, had so much fun. He told me he wants me by his side for the ride. He knows they are coming for him. I better fasten my seat belt.
The actors behind me sound fake. I want to whip around and coach them. Do nothing. Live truthfully. Why are they changing their speaking voice? Ugh. A dime a dozen. The characters that stroll through this Starbucks are colorful. I have strategically placed myself where I can see everything. Everyone has a hustle. The actors just got up and I quickly shut my computer. Oops. I hope they didn't see my scathing criticism, now I feel bad.
Anyway, I took my little brother to get his haircut today. He went to Pink's hairdresser. The cut is fabulous. Everywhere we went afterward people were staring. He looks like a movie star and he is sweet as pie to boot. I want to protect. I tell him all the horror stories of Hollywood. Sometimes I feel like I tell him too much but I want him prepared. I think I have scarred him. We went to the Grove and an agent came running up to him wanting to sign him on the spot. This has happened his whole life. Things just come to him. He's golden. He is 22 years old, tall, healthy, vibrant and smiles all the time. We laughed our asses off today, had so much fun. He told me he wants me by his side for the ride. He knows they are coming for him. I better fasten my seat belt.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Interpretive Dance
I am sitting in the corner of a gigantic room in Pasadena. There is live music playing. Everywhere you look there are objects to prompt creativity. Easels, a vintage typewriter, books, people are painting, some woman is waving a red shiny flag and there is a girl next to me doing an interpretive dance. Literally just busted right out into modern dance. I don't want to stare at her. She's good. Perfectly on the beat and flailing herself about the room, every move is on point with the music. There is a small part of me that thinks she's ridiculous and just wants everyone to look at her and then another part that says well good for her. She is expressing herself. Like in the biblical days. She is currently doing peekay (not the correct spelling ha) turns in a big giant circle, oops she just caught me looking at her. Well she's getting what she wants and I'm writing about it. Now, she just threw herself on the ground and slid across the floor, flipped her hair and looked toward the ceiling. Damn, she's in shape. Makes me want to get to a ballet class pronto. How shallow of me? Wanting to know her workout regimen and she probably wants me to decipher the message of her moves. Well she's definitely rejoicing and being very dramatic about it. Oh who am I kidding? She is a beautiful dancer and I am probably just envious because of (a). the taut tushy and (b). she has the balls to work it in front of everyone in the room without a care in the world.
Earlier I went into a smaller room and had received prophetic ministry from a group of seven people. I have never experienced this before. It's kind of like going to a psychic but not. My psychic days are over after I went to some lady with too much armpit hair that told me I had a generational curse on the women in my family and 250 dollars later I was cured. Those were my doormat days. Come right in and walk all over me. Not anymore I say. This experience was from a very spiritual perspective. They pray for you and tell you what they see. They told me that I was a teacher and I have the ability to affect many with my words. Out of nowhere tears started streaming down my face. They said my plan was great and I naturally set a good example for others. So in hindsight I guess being kind to all the schmucks of my past was a good thing. What they said really inspired me to keep going in the direction that I am. Don't we always wish we woke up and smelled the coffee sooner. Oh well my senses weren't as sharp back then, they are now. This new cast of characters in my life are lovely, filled with kind words and encouragement.
I just looked around for the dancing girl, she's gone, but I will always remember.
Earlier I went into a smaller room and had received prophetic ministry from a group of seven people. I have never experienced this before. It's kind of like going to a psychic but not. My psychic days are over after I went to some lady with too much armpit hair that told me I had a generational curse on the women in my family and 250 dollars later I was cured. Those were my doormat days. Come right in and walk all over me. Not anymore I say. This experience was from a very spiritual perspective. They pray for you and tell you what they see. They told me that I was a teacher and I have the ability to affect many with my words. Out of nowhere tears started streaming down my face. They said my plan was great and I naturally set a good example for others. So in hindsight I guess being kind to all the schmucks of my past was a good thing. What they said really inspired me to keep going in the direction that I am. Don't we always wish we woke up and smelled the coffee sooner. Oh well my senses weren't as sharp back then, they are now. This new cast of characters in my life are lovely, filled with kind words and encouragement.
I just looked around for the dancing girl, she's gone, but I will always remember.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Celebrate the Day
Today I will celebrate the birthday of a friend that I swear fell from the sky. He says he comes from the swamp in South Georgia and I will never know how the heck our paths ever crossed. He is a genius mimic and can do all the voices of the Klumps. Eddie Murphy's got nothing on him. It's pretty fascinating to watch. I was flabbergasted the first time I witnessed this.
He can predict when his phone will ring and who will be on the other end, my jaw drops and I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. His comedy is genius, a gift from above. He makes everyone laugh. EVERYONE. Any ounce of poise or glamour that I try to maintain goes right out the window when he makes me laugh. It erupts from me and my whole body starts to rock and I have to cover my face because tears just race down my face. Joy. When he is in a room full of people they just gravitate toward him, wanting to be close. Light beams from him and his smile is made from the same mold as some of our biggest movie stars, it can stop traffic.
We both worked at the same pizza shop and the owner got his britches in a bunch because he said we were more popular than the pizza and he didn't want us getting more attention than the food. I was so happy. I never had anyone criticize me for being more popular than pizza. It was fabulous. The owner called us the most famous non-famous people he knew and all we ever did was be nice to the customers. We left that job real quick.
Now I have saved the best for last. He has the voice of an angel. When he sings he makes all the girls cry and some guys too. I am a mess most of the time. He belts Adele, Patsy Cline, John Mayer and even Lady Gaga to name a few. The moments are precious when he plays the piano and sings something new. Breathtaking.
So I look up to the sky and thank God that I got so lucky. He defines true friendship through and through. He teaches, listens, encourages and supports. Talk about hitting the jackpot.
Happy Birthday Rudy! :)
He can predict when his phone will ring and who will be on the other end, my jaw drops and I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. His comedy is genius, a gift from above. He makes everyone laugh. EVERYONE. Any ounce of poise or glamour that I try to maintain goes right out the window when he makes me laugh. It erupts from me and my whole body starts to rock and I have to cover my face because tears just race down my face. Joy. When he is in a room full of people they just gravitate toward him, wanting to be close. Light beams from him and his smile is made from the same mold as some of our biggest movie stars, it can stop traffic.
We both worked at the same pizza shop and the owner got his britches in a bunch because he said we were more popular than the pizza and he didn't want us getting more attention than the food. I was so happy. I never had anyone criticize me for being more popular than pizza. It was fabulous. The owner called us the most famous non-famous people he knew and all we ever did was be nice to the customers. We left that job real quick.
Now I have saved the best for last. He has the voice of an angel. When he sings he makes all the girls cry and some guys too. I am a mess most of the time. He belts Adele, Patsy Cline, John Mayer and even Lady Gaga to name a few. The moments are precious when he plays the piano and sings something new. Breathtaking.
So I look up to the sky and thank God that I got so lucky. He defines true friendship through and through. He teaches, listens, encourages and supports. Talk about hitting the jackpot.
Happy Birthday Rudy! :)
The Routine of it All
Sometimes I wonder if I could ever move back East. I am planning a summer trip and thinking about going to Massachusetts and New York for three weeks. This would mark the longest I have ever been away from California, ten days has been my max so far. When I spent five years in New York City, the most I was ever away from the city was 5 days. I guess I just move to a place and hunker down, put my nose to the grindstone and I don't really look up. That's getting kind of old nowadays, I want to see my family more, expand the frames of my life and really see the big picture. In a perfect world I would have more of a routine, write by day and cook dinner every night. I am rediscovering the joy I get from stability and even if I cook for one, its a start and slowly others will come to the table. It makes the times with friends all that much sweeter.
When I spent the summer in Italy, it was all about that, everyone came together for a big dinner at night, there was conversation and laughter. It seemed right. The Italians have it down, they seem to be the masters of interpersonal relationships. Which I translate into they take their time, when they eat they don't rush and when they love they aren't afraid to show it. I witnessed all of this when I stayed at a campground in Sardinia, it was chock full of young couples and everyone cooked fresh food over their camp fires, did their dishes together and on the way to each task they held hands. Hand holding, where has it gone? You don't see it much here in Los Angeles, well maybe at the beach otherwise everyone's scurrying around trying to make it happen.
I'm thinking about writing some letters of forgiveness. When I think about doing this I just want to hurl and then I imagine I'm sitting in a circle with my legs crossed singing Kumbaya. I've been participating in this amazing healing program and we just did a stint on forgiveness. The pieces of my puzzle are slowly coming together and I am understanding how the different parts of me operate. I allowed certain people to be rather snarky without being snarky back. People often took more than they needed and I gave freely to the point where it made no point. So for this I have to forgive and the other person is supposed to repent but I don't talk to any of those people anymore. What I learned is though, the forgiveness thing can still work if you do your part because in the end its about releasing the crappy issue that happened in the first place.
I guess I'll get back to browsing the internet for the best deal on an airline ticket. I usually get sidetracked by facebook or dictionary.com, looking up new words I want to use. I am on the constant quest to increase my vocabulary. I need more words in my life, its my ammunition. The right word can make all the difference, like I can't wait to go on holiday as opposed to vacation.
My summer holiday, it has a nice ring to it.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Hot and Cold
Oh the Grove on a Tuesday is super fabulous. It is just something else, you can drive in and out and not be bothered. There isn't any line at the movies or for food and you can race around there like a bat outta hell. I discovered this place called the Banana Leaf, they have Malaysian food, yum, the best chicken noodles. I took my friend's neighbor to see Super 8, I cried, it was so good. I loved it.
Prior to that I was at my friend's place stomping around. First I said I was hot because it was sweltering out, then I said it was cold because he had the air conditioner blasting, then at some point I told him he didn't care. He looked at me sorta sideways. It's that time, you know the moon cycle so the hormones start to race to the finish line. I laughed at the madness of it all...Hot, cold and "you don't care."
I watched Katy Perry's new video "Last Friday Night", my little brother is in it. He looks so cute, he plays a jock. He is getting his start just like me. Music videos. I remember my first and only music video, it was New Kids On The Block, oh my, I'm dating myself but Jordan is still cute so what the heck. I was going to school in Boston and my friend was dating Danny Wood. We used to hang out at this club called Venus di Milo. I got my fake I.D. taken from me there and I had the nerve to argue with the bouncer saying that yes the 30 year old blonde in the picture was indeed me. I need to get THAT chutzpah back in my life. Anyway, Danny asked my friend to be in the video, she said she would only be in it if I could be in it too. They only wanted Latin Girls on set and after much cajoling she was able to convince them that I was cool and I should be in the video. So lo and behold I am all over that video with big hair and white knee high socks. We shot one of the club scenes at Venus and there was all this buzz about this cute short guy wearing a tank top and baseball hat. He was Donnie's little brother and when he walked on the set all the girls froze and stared. Oh, he made my heart beat, he was so sexy and so fine with his muscles and his swagger. It was Marky Mark, yep Mark Wahlberg. It was so much fun and I was known around Boston for a few months after the shoot as "the white girl in the video".
I ended the night listening to the piano. It was beautiful and I thought about how much my life has changed in 3 years. Life really is like a rollercoaster. If someone told me that I would swim through an ocean of tears for an extended period of time only to find myself two years later laughing my ass off on an almost daily basis I would have called them a liar. No way. It's almost like a miracle and I never saw it coming.
Prior to that I was at my friend's place stomping around. First I said I was hot because it was sweltering out, then I said it was cold because he had the air conditioner blasting, then at some point I told him he didn't care. He looked at me sorta sideways. It's that time, you know the moon cycle so the hormones start to race to the finish line. I laughed at the madness of it all...Hot, cold and "you don't care."
I watched Katy Perry's new video "Last Friday Night", my little brother is in it. He looks so cute, he plays a jock. He is getting his start just like me. Music videos. I remember my first and only music video, it was New Kids On The Block, oh my, I'm dating myself but Jordan is still cute so what the heck. I was going to school in Boston and my friend was dating Danny Wood. We used to hang out at this club called Venus di Milo. I got my fake I.D. taken from me there and I had the nerve to argue with the bouncer saying that yes the 30 year old blonde in the picture was indeed me. I need to get THAT chutzpah back in my life. Anyway, Danny asked my friend to be in the video, she said she would only be in it if I could be in it too. They only wanted Latin Girls on set and after much cajoling she was able to convince them that I was cool and I should be in the video. So lo and behold I am all over that video with big hair and white knee high socks. We shot one of the club scenes at Venus and there was all this buzz about this cute short guy wearing a tank top and baseball hat. He was Donnie's little brother and when he walked on the set all the girls froze and stared. Oh, he made my heart beat, he was so sexy and so fine with his muscles and his swagger. It was Marky Mark, yep Mark Wahlberg. It was so much fun and I was known around Boston for a few months after the shoot as "the white girl in the video".
I ended the night listening to the piano. It was beautiful and I thought about how much my life has changed in 3 years. Life really is like a rollercoaster. If someone told me that I would swim through an ocean of tears for an extended period of time only to find myself two years later laughing my ass off on an almost daily basis I would have called them a liar. No way. It's almost like a miracle and I never saw it coming.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Wireless Fix Me Up
It's been days since I've written and its the first thing I think about when I wake up, that and my coffee. I always contemplate schlepping my computer to Starbucks to use the free wifi and I just can't seem to get it together to do it. Well I'm like a junkie and I got my fix, which is a wireless signal so now I can write.
Today feels like the first day of summer. Busting out the skirts and the tanks, boy, I need a tan. Have a lot of free time on my hands now since getting the ax. I remember my first babysitting job, I was nine. I've been working a long time. Always had a job, all through school and college. I am relishing the time off. Rediscovering what I want to do. It's pretty fabulous. One thing I have realized is restaurant management is purgatory for artists. It is a thankless position and I am so glad to be free of it. I really could care less if you think your drink is too strong, not strong enough, blah, blah, blah. Complaints aren't real to me unless their valid, like being hungry from no food on the table. Anything else is just frivolous and frivolous people are boring.
In any event who am I to judge, the frivolous people are probably cranky cuz they realized that money can't get them everything they need. It doesn't buy a good shoulder to cry on or a friends laughter. It can't give you a restful sleep unless you use that money to buy Ambien and well that's another story. I took an Ambien once, this supermodel gave it to me when we were on location for something. I think I hallucinated and couldn't sleep for three days after that. Talk about a nightmare.
I'll call this my semi-retirement phase, since I did the child labor thing back in the day.. I'm not gonna feel guilty about my time off. Reality is, I get more done when I don't have to go to a paycheck job. So I'm investing now. Me stock. I think it's a pretty good gamble.
Today feels like the first day of summer. Busting out the skirts and the tanks, boy, I need a tan. Have a lot of free time on my hands now since getting the ax. I remember my first babysitting job, I was nine. I've been working a long time. Always had a job, all through school and college. I am relishing the time off. Rediscovering what I want to do. It's pretty fabulous. One thing I have realized is restaurant management is purgatory for artists. It is a thankless position and I am so glad to be free of it. I really could care less if you think your drink is too strong, not strong enough, blah, blah, blah. Complaints aren't real to me unless their valid, like being hungry from no food on the table. Anything else is just frivolous and frivolous people are boring.
In any event who am I to judge, the frivolous people are probably cranky cuz they realized that money can't get them everything they need. It doesn't buy a good shoulder to cry on or a friends laughter. It can't give you a restful sleep unless you use that money to buy Ambien and well that's another story. I took an Ambien once, this supermodel gave it to me when we were on location for something. I think I hallucinated and couldn't sleep for three days after that. Talk about a nightmare.
I'll call this my semi-retirement phase, since I did the child labor thing back in the day.. I'm not gonna feel guilty about my time off. Reality is, I get more done when I don't have to go to a paycheck job. So I'm investing now. Me stock. I think it's a pretty good gamble.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Sweetest Thing
My phone rang at 3:00, I picked it up, it was my lil brother. He called me after his audition for a snow boarding print job. He was so excited, "the casting director asked me if I could do a half pipe?" I giggled, "what did you tell her"? "I told her I could do it all." I took a deep breath, he could do it all, he was so cool and he had it. I told him to fasten his seatbelt because he is going to work all the time. I can feel it, everyone can see it and it's his destiny.
We were meeting up to hang and look at new modeling shots. "Meet me at the Honey Baked Ham", I said. "Where?", he yelled over the blasting music in his car. "I live behind the Honey Baked Ham store, I'll meet you in the parking lot.". I brushed my hair, threw on my Coldplay concert tee, my aviator shades and ran out the door. It was a gorgeous, hot California day. I was happy.
We were meeting up to hang and look at new modeling shots. "Meet me at the Honey Baked Ham", I said. "Where?", he yelled over the blasting music in his car. "I live behind the Honey Baked Ham store, I'll meet you in the parking lot.". I brushed my hair, threw on my Coldplay concert tee, my aviator shades and ran out the door. It was a gorgeous, hot California day. I was happy.
I thought about when I first moved to Hollywood and I don't know how I made it through the jungle virtually unscathed. Well I guess the big ol fat broken heart isn't unscathed but I'm almost out of that neck of the woods, so it's no longer starting to count. I still have my hope and that is good. I have seen so many people sell out, date the "right" person for a job, kiss ass and live off their parents money. At the end of the day they were all so miserable and not one of those people that went that route "made it." Most of them now drink too much, pine for a lover and look like they have a perpetual bitter taste in their mouth.
I have waded through the water, like Katherine Hepburn in the "African Queen" and I will protect my brother, give him my help and support and no he will not shoot with Madonna's photographer.(he met someone at a party that wants to hook him up). We will save that for later when he can call the shots.
We sat and watched a little league game, stumbled upon it while we strolled through the park. He showed me his portfolio, he's a looker. We talked about life and our family. I shared some of my heartache with him over the past few years, only a little bit though. I made jokes to soften the blow of my woes and in the end when there was a pause he put his arm around me and said, "well you have me now, you have your brother." I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Sincerely. Don't we all want someone to be there for us without asking them. It is really special when it is offered up freely and coming straight from the heart.
So all of my prayers were not in vain. I feel like I am starting from scratch and that is refreshing. Diesel, Lexus, Fedex, all casting calls for this week. I breathe and take in the joy. I have gotten into the habit of cleaning my place in the morning before I tackle my day. It's very grown up of me and grown up things are starting to happen. I guess I still feel like the girl that moved here a decade ago. My friend said to me the other day. "you look like a voluptuous 19 year old." That'll keep me going for a month. Talk about an ego boost. I'll take that all the way to the bank. A voluptuous 19 year old armed with her check list.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
The Bloom is Back
Today I stepped in the direction of my goals. They are my everyday companions now, and I can't shake them from my psyche. My yellow lined paper that has them written down comes with me everywhere. I wrote 10 new ones. Oh my Lordy. Who am I? I am cheerleading on my own sideline now and not pushing the pom poms for someone else. And guess what? It's working. I cleaned my car, check. Did my homework for acting class, check and actually made the journey to the Valley to meet my new classmates, check. They are a great bunch of colorful people with lots going on. They are on top of their game and they have goals too. So in essence, we are partners in crime, we commit the act together. The act of succeeding.
This is all coming from a girl that devoured all of the Nancy Drew and Little House on the Prairie books. I adored Laura Ingalls. She kept me company in those early years. Back then I used to knit with my grandmother. I made hats, scarves, baby blankets and sweaters. Knit one, pearl two. I accomplished things. I started and I finished. I think I stopped this when boys came in the picture. Now I can understand why my Grandmother would call me boy crazy with such disdain on her face. She knew I was wilting instead of blooming. Well the bloom is back and the bloom has a woman with freckles on her side. That woman is me.
It's such a bum deal when you feel under appreciated. Armed with your morals and your values, you tackle the world only to feel like you fell flat on your face. It's like doing the stairmaster. You sweat and step and stay in the same place without moving forward. I often wondered why I would sign up for those damn classes, those steps always made my thighs look big. But all was not in vain, it built my stamina, which is just what I needed when it was time to move forward. So staying in one place and sweating it out is good from time to time.
The girl that wandered through the wilderness of Boston, Europe, New York City and ultimately Los Angeles has found her day in the sun. I turn my petals toward that light and it comes in many forms. I have found a wonderful teacher. She is special. It is the age old saying "when the student is ready, the teacher will appear", that's me ready for the pickin. I have found friends, the kind like they write about in the classic novels. They come armed with great stories of their own. Heartache and joy that match mine. We walk together, write letters, and I sit right in front of their song. The melodies of their lives speak to me. Inspiration that keeps me reaching for a future they can see when I can't.
Tomorrow I will put my body into a pretzel in yoga class. That's a far cry from the salted pretzels with mustard that I would eat at the county fair. The twists and bends will clear the path that my mind needs to be on. Afterward I will play, that's a goal too, to play more. I will eat lunch, hug my little brother, tell him I love him, water my plant and put another check mark on my list.
Tomorrow I will put my body into a pretzel in yoga class. That's a far cry from the salted pretzels with mustard that I would eat at the county fair. The twists and bends will clear the path that my mind needs to be on. Afterward I will play, that's a goal too, to play more. I will eat lunch, hug my little brother, tell him I love him, water my plant and put another check mark on my list.
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