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!"
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