Spilt Soda and Ex-Lovers

I love my street, I think I live on the prettiest street in Los Angeles.  Sycamore trees abound and I get drunk on the cool night blooming jasmine air.  Today I was trying to find a parking space, I turned the corner and there were four cruisers in front of my building. I slowed down to be nosy and I saw my neighbor talking to them.  A waiting Range Rover blew it's horn and the overly tan blonde frantically waved her hand for me to keep it moving.  I parked and went through the back door of my building and ran up the stairs right into two cops outside my neighbors door.  Drama.  I loved it. I think.  Their walkie talkies were squawking and they gave me the obligatory nod when my neighbor peeked his head around the corner.

"Oh my God, I'm so happy you weren't here."

I rested my hand on the railing and it was wet and sticky.  What the heck?!

"That's soda, I threw my soda at him." he said.

Him, being his ex-lover who overstayed his welcome after a serious bout with drugs.

"What happened?"

"He wouldn't leave, I had to get a restraining order against him and he flipped out so I called the cops."

I looked to the ground, it was wet and I didn't know what to say.

"You know, after everything he's done, I still feel bad that he is going to spend his birthday in jail."

"No, don't feel bad, that's co-dependent."  I had to stop myself from going into therapist mode but the look in his eyes wanted more of my words.

"You just have to rip the band-aid off and move on, time will make it better, at least that's what my mom says."

He looked like he was going to cry.

"He used to be so beautiful."

I thought about some of the beautiful ones that I used to know that went right when they were supposed to go left and now, not so beautiful too.

"I know it's hard, impossibly hard and you feel like you are going to feel this way forever but you wont, things are going to get better, I promise, you took care of yourself."

He smiled.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, I feel great, I just had a great audition, things are good."  Oh my gosh, how many times can I say good and great, I think I may have been rambling.  I just go into autopilot in these situations, this is where I shine, taking care of others and making sure they are ok and here in the midst of this man's chaos he asked me how I was doing.  I was thrown.

"When is that movie that you did going to come out?'

"I think soon, I'll let you know."

"Well thank you, thank you for listening."

"If you need anything, knock on my door."

I closed my door and my head was spinning, I'm sure his was too and I started to think about forgiveness.  I had a conversation with two people recently who had polar opposite opinions about it.  One said "it's a crock, you're giving the other person too much power."  And the other said, "it's a beautiful thing, you're whole world opens up when you forgive."

I recently received an email from an ex, who had asked me for forgiveness over the years and I just blocked it out, like it wasn't even an option.  I figured since all of this forgiveness talk was coming up, I would give it a whirl, this is an excerpt of his response:

I am sorry. I really am. I've never had the chance to really show it. I've tried to show it through the good I could do, even when you weren't around to witness, while I try to keep the bad that exists in me at bay. But time does heal... "One thing, I've learned about life... it goes on." - Robert Frost. I still have his book of his poems that you gave me. For almost 15 years it was one of the handful of books that I traveled with. And my mom kept just about every photo we ever had together in a trunk. I went through everything and relived everything. And to know that the most intense and reoccurring regret I've had for almost 20 years has come full circle gives me pause. Thank you.

I read it to one girlfriend and she cried and to another who said "so what."  This or that.  Yes or no.  Words, where are they when you need them.  I wipe my sticky hand and look out my window.  The cop cars are gone.

Flying Backward

When I was a kid I used to have flying dreams all of the time.  Gliding through the sky while my stomach flip flopped and right before I would go splat my eyes would open.  Sometimes life can make me feel like I'm flying backward.  I want that feeling of being high above it all, weightless, where nothing matters.  Because walking can just be so damn muddy.  Trudge, trudge, trudge.  So I just opt to fly as much as possible in the direction that I want to go in but sometimes I just do it backward like I am doing the backstroke in a pool.  I know there is a place that I want to be but I don't want to deal with what I have to pass to get there.  The agendas, the empty promises, the slick words and fake smiles I could do without but it's par for the course.  I prefer the moments when a friend grabs my phone and downloads a song then plops my headphones in my ears and says "this will help you along the way".  Then I listen to the song on repeat and repeat and repeat. I am grateful.  Grateful for the gems.  You have to mine for them though and the dirt messes up my hair and scuffs my boots.

I remember when I managed a horrible restaurant in Silverlake.  And as a sidenote restaurant management for an artist is like purgatory, absolute torture!  So I hired some of my really cute guy friends to tend bar and that made it bearable.  It was like I worked for a bunch of thugs and I had to constantly go up against them on a daily basis.  These people were the worst of the bunch.  Like characters I had read about in books but never met in person.  When I was a my wit's end with my head was spinning and I was questioning everything..why, why, why????? is this happening to me!?, I received one of the most eloquent and beautiful emails ever from one of my busboys.  Now regardless of what you believe in..God, Buddha, Jehovah, The Dollar or retail therapy...none of it mattered because he wrote from his truth and it struck mine.  Here's a bit: " God is not a father that cares about our earthly success, but that we try and in our journey grow closer to the things of him. Love, Joy, peace, forbearance, Kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. (All fruits, I see being made ripe in you). That being said I have seen nothing but you doing the absolute best job that anyone could do in your shoes. Don't allow your fruits to be robbed."

Cue my jaw dropping. How could he see all that in me at a time when I felt so invisible? A gem. I had found another gem. And it didn't come from a director that I wanted to work with, a cute guy that I wanted to kiss, or some boss that I wanted to please. It came from someone and somewhere when I least expected it. This moment changed the game for me and I quit that lousy job and remembered what I was made of and where I came from. Virtues do mean something in this wild world. The right people will notice at the right time when you need it the most.

Flying backward is like kissing upside down or washing your hair in a bowl of spaghetti. It doesn't make sense, it feels funny but it gets you where you need to go. Keep moving.

River Birth

After a woman gives birth it is usually after a grueling amount of physical pain, blood, sweat and tears.  Well I gave birth minus the physical pain and the blood which quite frankly I'm happy to save for another day.  At the risk of sounding all earthy and new agey, I guess I could say that I gave birth to myself.  I did kick, scream and fight it tooth and nail which made it all the more hellish but I managed to find some mental doulas, mid-wives and the occasional cute mid-husband to help me plod along my journey out of the sandbox.  One aha moment I had as I held my head and slumped down amongst the rubble of my old ways is that I really like to be around people that get me.  I think part of my problem was I just kept picking the wrong pieces of my puzzle and we all know how that feels when we try to force anything where it doesn't belong.  I breathe and know that Buddha would be proud that I was finding the right pieces.
"Flow through things like the river, go around the rocks."
This is what a friend told me when we used to sneak into movie premieres in New York City.
"If they ask your name, just keep walking."
"Excuse me, what?"
"Don't make eye contact"
"I thought we had tickets?"
"Don't worry, don't talk and stay behind me."
And with that we walked past two burly security guards into Robert DeNiro's private screening room only to be chased by the events publicist.
"Excuse me, excuse me, are you on the list/"
At this point I felt like I was going to hyperventilate and me cheeks were burning.  My friend grabbed my hand and stopped.  He turned around and glared at the woman.
"We are IN the movie."
She stopped and apologized and with that we settled into our seats with the movie stars, front and center.

My party crasher friend got me, he knew I was capable of flowing like the river.  I often forget and still get smashed up against the occasional rock or swept out to sea but then I clasp my hands and pray to my guy upstairs and everything works itself out.
Flow.
Breathe.
Birth.
Happy.

Suddenly Selfish

I'm selfish and it's a good thing..for me anyway.  I have to try really hard to be selfish after a lifelong passion of being a big time people pleaser.  I'm stepping into this new found freedom and owning it.  Now anyone that has known me for a long time is probably jumping for joy at the thought of this because I did for others so much that I did indeed sacrifice my own well being.  I think we've all been there once or twice but I really did have a penchant for picking the takers and the anglers.  I played my part do not get me wrong, I was looking for friendship and love in all the wrong places whilst trying to fill that gaping hole otherwise known as the fatherless daughter madness.  After making the rounds on the therapy circuit, spiritual counsel and intense soul searching I have finally started to chip away at this comfortable pattern that I have developed along my life's journey.  Suddenly stability is hot.  Gone are the long elaborate excuses of why the broken promises, the social slights, the missed phone calls, the can't be bothered to ever take your feelings into consideration because I just have so much shit that I'm working on and blah blah blah.  It all starts to sound the same and it's name is whatever.  That dance is so yesterday and quite honestly I'd rather shop or take a nap.  Beauty sleep is much more glamorous than deciphering some lie.  Ladies and gents I am here to tell you, keep it moving, we all deserve the best.

The more selfish I have become (which really means finally having my own back, but I love to be dramatic and pretend I am soooo selfish that I can't be bothered but that's not really true, it's almost like I have to over shoot in order to get the result I want), the happier I have been. Sometimes it's daunting, the pull to the old ways.  It's like a tag that you forgot to cut out of your favorite shirt, eventually you just rip it off because it is so irritating.  It usually leaves some sort of tear but it's in the back so no one really sees it.

I plot my course alone with the big guy upstairs.  The busyness of it all provides excitement and slight anxiety.  I have never been one to plan my day by the hour yet this is what I have become.  I devour the time when the sun is out and schedule meetings at 7:30am.  This was unheard of six months ago.  I have always been a night owl, it's the natural rhythm of my body.  But this selfish season has inspired me to fight (kicking and screaming) to break some debilitating ways  Now my eyes open at the crack of dawn and I spring into action.... Tires changed and rotated by 8am, commercial audition, theatrical audition, work meeting, modeling job, long drive home and a birthday party.  Each day brings a new list of things to accomplish and I check them off one by one.
Life has started to happen and it was worth everything that I gave.... even to the takers. Ha!

Judy and Bernie

I drove out to the beach the other day and I always love the way I feel when I get to the end of the 10 freeway and it opens up to the ocean.  It makes the murkiness of Hollywood seem worth it and things suddenly become clear when I breathe the Malibu air.  My destination was Pepperdine, a beautiful sprawling campus that sits upon prime real estate where the privileged wrack their brains in their free time to get up out of Mommy and Daddy's grasp.  Everyone is good looking and has that sort of California slump to their posture.  They can't be bothered and they aren't.

I thought about my cold college days in Boston where I worked a full time job to get through my college experience.  I was always hustling.  I wouldn't know how to be like these kids.  I decided to adapt for the day and I found myself slouching and smiling more without a care in the world.  I made my way to the library where I was going to a lecture.  I was helping with the event, so I couldn't slouch too much (ha).  There were rows of folding chairs lined up and the room could fit about 75 people.  The windows in the room went floor to ceiling and naturally there was a view of the ocean.  Coming off of my 2 week juice fast, the cranberry ice tea was like crack and I gulped down two glasses before I even enjoyed it.  People slowly started to filter in and I realized there were lots of Hollywood heavyweights filling the seats, the ones that make the decisions.  I made fast friends with a young woman and secured my spot in a center row.  We exchanged small talk about the day.  I wondered if I would get antsy sitting through a lecture about the holocaust.  I had always been prone to checking out in an academic setting (that explains a lot!) and I suddenly dreaded sitting in the same spot for more than an hour.  There was a slight buzz in the air and then our guests of honor entered the space.  The air changed, it felt full with more weight.  Judy and Bernie had been married for over 40 years having escaped Dachau and Auschwitz respectively and meeting up years later in Munich where they  fell in love.

Judy spoke first.  She is 92 years old.  Bernie adores her still, I could tell by the way he looked at her, it warmed my heart.  She recounted the last time she saw her mother and father, it was on the train taking her to the camp.  Everyone was getting off the train and it was absolute chaos with the SS guards, pushing, prodding and shooting anyone that misstepped.  Judy was  14 years old and was put in a separate car from her parents.  Her mother was in a wheelchair and was with all the other "sickly" women.  Judy spoke in a low labored tone as she remembered turning around in the middle of the crowd and glimpsing her father, he wore glasses.  When she spotted him, she called to him and his glasses were knocked off of his face. She yelled. "Papa , your glasses, you can't see without them." As he  bent to pick them up someone had stepped on them.  That was the last time she ever saw her father, without his glasses.  Next, she heard her mother calling for her.  "Judy, where is your father?"  "He lost his glasses, he can't see without them." She answered.  And that was the last time she saw her mother.  You could hear a pin drop in the room.  It was sad beyond belief.  My eyes were swollen shut and I had so much snot coming out of my nose I had to use my hair to wipe it.  I didn't care, I was paralyzed and I couldn't move to get up and get a kleenex.  She shared her story for an hour and there wasn't a dry eye in the room.  In the end, Judy said she managed to go on and have a life, get married, have children and enjoy it.  I will never ever forget this woman.  She is remarkable.  Her strength is inspiring and meeting her just seemed to reset my whole being.  Anytime I start to feel sorry for myself  I will remember Judy.

Bernie was next and his approach was more comedic.  He recanted his tragedy like that of a stand up comedian.  It was just as prolific and brutal but Bernie stood before us so happy to be alive and happy to be in this free country.  He was a Nazi hunter and captured many former SS guards.  It was like he was the action star in his own movie.  This little old man that stood hunched over traveled across continents and looked his abusers right in the face and brought them to justice.  He is my new hero.  Bernie's life advice was "make decisions, work hard, be proud of this free country and date on the weekends."

I don't want to slouch anymore, I don't want to be like the spoiled California kids anymore.  I'm glad I froze in Boston and worked my ass off putting myself through school.  Working hard, standing up straight and making the right and wrong decisions led me to Malibu and led me to Judy and Bernie.  For this I am grateful.

Birds Eye View

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.

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....