small girl vs. big city

I cant sleep.

I don’t want to eat.

I count calories and avoid eating or drinking anything that will stain my teeth.

I spend more hours in the gym a day than I do in church all week.

I’m actually worried about getting a pimple between now and Sunday.

I went out of my way to get coffee at a more hip spot than the one close to my house.

I was a little embarrassed to hang out with a friend of a friend last weekend because sweet as she was, she “wasn’t very cool”.

WHAAAT?!?! WHO… DO… I THINK I AM!?!?

!!I!! am not cool!

Ok slow down. I’m cool. Right? Ha. So, outside of paying rent, my biggest worries are as high on the priority totem pole as a kiddie pool is deep. I went to an industry mixer last week and laughed because “the only celebrity here is Chuck Woolery and the guy from Tool Time?” The bright eyed girl who packed up and arrived here 3yrs ago with only her dog and a u-haul full of crap would have written home about that night. That bright eyed girl would be beside herself with pride at MTV’s repetitive attempts to hire her full time on their #1 show.

This girl. This new girl traded in her best friend of a dog for a new schedule that didn’t allow time to take her to the park. This new girl doesn’t return calls and has too much to be say about the present moment…yet not a word (let alone anything to show) about the future.

They say you never know when opportunity will knock. Well, I know someone, we’ll call him Opportunity, who is on his way over. In preparation for this visit, the house cleaning I’ve done has turned me into a shallow, obsessive, insecure hologram. I laugh about those who buy into the illusion of Hollywood. And yet, with it on my doorstep I am all too eager to melt into it. Now I  get why they all chose to worry if they’re thin enough/pretty enough/good enough… because that’s the price of keeping what you want when you finally get it. But because success in this town isn’t tangible, paying the price one day doesn’t guarantee it won’t evaporate the next. If I allow myself to believe and become apart of this mirage that isn’t reality… the old me will vanish along with it.

I cant choose to lose her. I am not the girl that worries if they will like me. If my hair is the right shade of brown or if my freckles will look good on a big screen. I am… looking for … the girl that would breeze through the fantasy with playful reckless abandon, all in the name of fun. In the name of having something to write home about. I only have a few days to find her… that side of me that I lost at some event some night somewhere in this city.

When I do, I’m not letting her eat cake. But a cookie might not be out of the question…

I have a long list of fears. Drowning. Earthquakes (that one is about 4mos new). Food poisoning (hey, I hate throwing up!). Losing a family member. Losing a bodily function (sight, sound, mobility). And, last: Love. I loved once. It was nothing short of alchemy. But alchemy is a process, not a diamond… and not even those last forever.

A hard day. Three strikes led me up three flights of stairs. I would not come down the same.

From word one through… our third date I could hardly stand him. He was insanely loud, way too proud and swore in the presence of a lady more than a man ever should. He actually called me once to tell me to call him more often. But somewhere between a dozen eggs and letting him house sit my place with his entourage of a homeless ex-boxer, a pop star, and a maniac… I fell. There were rainbows. A kiss could stop time. I was able to sleep through the night. I cooked. I cleaned. I shared. I dared. A year and a half of… Museums. Music. Flowers. Adventure. Books. Love. Laughter. Travels. I dreamed of white fences and what-if’s. Though I was terrified, I met his family, and I fell for them too. When I was least expecting, I met unconditional love. Last, I met fate.

I cant tell you what happened. How it ended. I spent too many months trying to wrap my head around the pieces of kindly sugar coated truths I was left with. I eventually gave up because the truth is… it was over.

A lot of time has passed since the fairytale ended. Friendship and time continue to water down the potency of a once intense love. While I value the friendship deeply, it makes me want to disappear (from his sight anyway). It’s the only way I can think of preserving the memory the first real love I’ve ever had. He has turned into just a friend. A very true, very real, very loving and special friend. A friend nonetheless. But, before the last of the shimmer fades, I want to put the friendship away. No matter how great a friend, a great friend is still a great fall from grace as the great love of your life. Friendships have boundaries. Love does not. To be clear, I said I want to preserve the memory of that love. Not to revive it. He is still an amazing man, but no longer the man I loved. And I am no longer the girl he loved or the girl capable of it. Time, fear, personalities, expectations and the present moment have all had their way with our hearts. I really believe that we are both better to have met, loved, and lost. And more than that, I believe everything happens for a reason.

Before him, I was a girl without the slightest comprehension of love. I understood it as a pedestal you were placed upon while you receive without giving, all the while going through the motions of feelings that never actually come. Now, I Love Love. No matter what, he will always be my first love. That has to be it. That has to be enough. He cant be my first love and my only real friend. Even though now I know how great love is…I have the affliction of also knowing how equally painful it is to lose. Worse, how sad it is to fade.

Well, I’m tired of being sick. I have had chances. This year. To love. And to be loved. And I believed when fear convinced me I am allergic to it. That my allergic reaction to falling in love, will be to get hurt. No. It’s that thought process that is sick. I have held the medicine in my very hands and not taken it because it might have a bad aftertaste. Fuck the fairytale ending because I’d rather live in the moment. and fuck fear because Commitment is not a four letter word.

…as a small dose…maybe I’ll start with a radio station…

This blog has no point. No storyline. No moral (ha… ha). It’s just a treat, it might make you smile. It’s been a while. Have you missed me? I’ve missed the me that has something to write about. I’ve read that Anthony Keidis believes “there is no such thing as writer’s block, they either write or they do not.” I like that, it takes the pressure off. Wait a minute, I don’t even believe in pressure.  I’ve had great days and mediocre days. Neither of which have inspired me enough to share… but since I will look back on yesterday as a big day… let’s snapshot life.

I’m warm. The power is on and the water runs, though I’ve yet to pay for either in months. There is gas in my tank and items to eat in the fridge. I have clean clothes and a smile on my face. My orchids are struggling but my money tree is suddenly taking an interest in life. Hopefully that’s an indication.

Watched the first Laker game of the season from the 5th row thanks to Chris. Met a Vegas hotel owner. I already lost his card but I’m sure she kept it. I heard Kobe sigh as he left the locker room after half time.

Bought a guitar. Super cheap, off of Craigslist. It is beautiful, with a tiny flaw: a little chip near the bottom. Wounded, yet gorgeous. That’s how all beautiful things are so I love it even more.  Stared blankly at a ”how to” site for all of 2minutes before turning on hendrix/the doors/cream/red hot chili peppers and prancing around the apartment reveling in my honorary band member status. It’s been in the corner for 2 days, where it’ll be until my roomie leaves again or until one of my handsome friends teaches me. 

Attended a Halloween party last week in the hills. I’d have written a blog about it if it were noteworthy. But it was the usual: Check in. Wristband. Shuttle. Free vodka (Kettle and Monster this night), fashion show. Carmen Electra was there. Oh, and someone everyone wanted to take pictures of. I don’t know - ? he looked like Chingy circa: whenever he first came out. Who cares.

Halloween was otherwise uneventful. If you count being stood up by one of your girlfriends and watching the WeHo parade from the hood of your car dressed as cupid uneventful. I cried a little. I like dressing up, I looked cute! I had wings damnit! I was Cupid! Me! I love love! Alright screw the tutu, I was upset because that night signaled the end of a friendship as I knew it. I hung out with a friend later and because the night was so crappy I smoked my very first (and second) cigarette from start to finish. Hello, I’d like you to meet the attraction of smoking. Welcome to playfully light headed. Now meet a couple of her friends: 1) When I told my girlfriend I smoked, her jaw hit the floor “because you’re sooooo anti”. She started smoking so long ago she forgot all about that light headed fun. I asked her why she still smokes if it isnt fun. “Addiction”. Cue the ugly truth. 2) I felt like utter and complete shit in a bag the next day. I was SICK as a DOG. Lungs, body aches, headache, watery eyes. Ugh. End scene. I dont believe in a payoff valued less than the price.

It rained. I think the city wanted to be shiny and new by Tuesday.  Paid off my car that day. Purposely on that historic day. I dyed my hair back to it’s original color’ish. The city isnt the only broad ready for change. I voted. I voted. That was not a typo and not repeated for effect. Take it literally if you will, but take it to the grave because I will not explain it. There are very few moments in life you know you are burning into memory. I was the last girl at the poll on Western. Of course. After all someone had to be. As soon as I turned in that ballot, my phone started singing songs of change. I felt pretty and life felt pretty exciting. The wind ran with me through the streets. Jumped in my car and headed over to Happy Endings. Ironic. The place was silent during his acceptance speech. It may have been inappropriate and it probably could have waited, but Sorenson ordered us chilled southern comfort shots and miller lites. We were the only ones with nerve to order during the speech. Relax, it’s a dive bar. It’s Lost Angeles (that was a typo, but humor dictates it stays). Anyway, the beer for the speech and the shots to toast afterward. I cant remember what he said but I do remember it was moving. I do remember believing him and the room being filled with hope, optimism and a certain anxious energy. We’re all in the same boat. Who knows where it’s going, but we’re all rowing.

We skipped out and headed to Coco. There was a line outside. It was also freezing, so we ignored it and marched our happy asses up to the rope. JP must have been in a good mood because he let us in at hello. We did a lap and settled at a table with a very happy friend of mine, Leon. His idea of celebration is Goose. A guy pretending to be Obama came in with two other guys pretending to be his security. Not my idea of funny. Later, I met a guy with sweetness in his eyes. I pretended not to know who he was. That’s what you do with people who are used to being recognized. You give them the chance to be normal. Because they are. And you give them your number if they ask. And he did. And you save their # when they call you. And he has. Ahh, but all of this drama is just from the first impression. I’m silly girl with a short attention span and a long list of deal breakers…

Today I started the day without a stitch of makeup and in my oldest sweats at a laundro’mat off of LaBrea and north of The Woods. Superman was there. A glimpse at those blues and I ditched the oversized hoodie. Tank top, better choice. The pen holding my hair up did a disappearing act. Clearly out of his element sorting clothes, he kind of made awkward…charming. We smiled a lot and I tried not to fold anything that wasnt cute within eyeshot. Some guy who looked like he could have been my cousin, cleared his throat and rolled his eyes at us. Shut up hater, find your own girl to flirt with. More smiles and pretending not to stare at each other. He finally found his voice…Blabla need help? No thank you. Blabla call me sometime. Another blue eyed guy from New York. With abs. I apparently have a type. And an aversion to commitment. Baby steps. Options are always nice. Bottom line: There is no ego boost greater than to meet a man in your pj’s without makeup. My dad used to tell me to be careful how I leave the house because “you never know who you’re going to meet”. That very thing is sometimes the only reason I leave the house.

I ended today by earned $3/minute to walk 3 blocks on Hollywood blvd carrying a camera battery and chatting Austin and Jones’ ears off. Damn I love that crew. There are worse ways to spend 50minutes. And that is how I earned my name in the credits. Today anyway. My latest musical obsession is in town on Friday. I might go, alone. Meet more people that way. The show is after work and before hanging with new friends. One of which I saw on the side of a bus today. As in: his face was on the side of a city bus. There it was, perception met reality and both fought the illusion. This is already too long to get into that one…just smile and nod.

But, speaking of the city. The winds of change are blowing… I cant share yet. Oh, but you just wait.