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....

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!"

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.

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.
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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.

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.

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.

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 :)