small girl vs. big city

(…ringing…)

Hey, can you keep a secret? I’m dead serious here, so if you can’t, I can call someone else.

Well, hello to you too.

Sorry. I’m just stressed out. Secret??

Yea, ok what’s up

Are you busy this weekend, I… need help with something.

Needing help isnt a secret. I’m free, what’s up?

I umm… need help moving my bed… into storage. Please don’t ask questions, and PLEASE don’t tell anyone. You can either do it or you can’t, Ill understand either way.

(sigh) Sure. Ill be there.

Thanks, gotta go.

Snap the phone shut as I will my apartment manager to leave so I can walk through the front door like a normal person. Please dont be here, please dont—-shit of course the door to the office is open. Ugh. Does he ever leave?!?! In broad daylight- I sprint along the side of the building and duck as I pass under the window I know he’s sitting in front of.  Shove the key in the lock and run down the ramp into the garage. Head down as I pass the only camera, push “up” and wait for the elevator. An eternity I tell you. Listening for the elevator to stop on the 1st floor. Damnitall, really? In a half second I’m around the corner and down three steps. Standing, holding my breath and my bladder in a dark storage area no one ever looks into on their way to the garage. Sigh. Come on, hurry up. 

Door slams. Footsteps. They fade. A car starts.

Safely in the elevator. Hungry for peaceful normalcy, I drown the ride in replying to a text. I make it a point to not notice people on the off chance they wont notice me, so when the elevator door opens and the silence chokes me, I know it’s him.

How are you. When are you going to be able to pay the balance of the rent?

Well thank you for asking: I’m ok. Rent? Hmm… Food or shelter, food or shelter you know? But I am doing my best to get it-

Your best doesnt tell me when. Management wants you out now. You’re already two months behind, so they want to start the eviction process-

Nope, no need for that. I gave you my notice. I’ll be out by the 5th. If they evict me, it’ll just waste their time, money and energy because that will take longer than if they just let me leave now… But if they really want to evict me, that’s ok- it’ll give me a place to stay for another month…….. their call.

He stares. I smile. He sighs. I win.

Just turn in your key by the 5th.

(continued…)

did you?

hang on to your hats, or your loved ones. it’s been a bumpy ride. i’ll tell you all about it, just you wait. it’s been 76 days since i’ve been home… but i’m on my way.

alright, I gotta go. how are you going to get in?

a look: ha, don’t worry about me

well call me if you have any trouble, security is going to be pretty tight tonight.

yea, sure ok. just go i’ll see ya inside.

in one step the camera’s over his shoulder and he’s across the street.

i wait a few minutes. lipgloss.heels. the walk. a yawn for the audience of security standing around outside. smirk. “are y’all workin or starin?” they laugh. yup, keep laughing boys… i’m going to keep walkin.

a nod at the security guard behind the glass. don’t stare too long, don’t make him think. just another face dude, you’ve seen me before(jedi mind trick)… sure, yea you’ve seen me before (mental lie)… 5min ago remember (mental lie)…

loud knock on the glass, an indication to stop. no way. smile “hey, its me again” (a lie). wave. don’t break step… just keep walking. don’t look back. no more knocking and no footsteps. I’m in. Since I came in through the back, I don’t know where I’m going but I know I’m in.

look impatient, walk faster. oh, too fast. pretend pretend…lots of doors, shit which one… pretend, just pick one.

door #3. candles. black ties. bassy music. yup. this would be a great start.

slow it down. calm… scanning the — bingo. smile, tilt my head and purse my lips at the bartender, feigning interest. he holds eyes long enough for me to know I’ve secured an alibi.

old security man 12 o’clock covers his ear. ugh surveillance. someone snitched. he looks at me, registering… wipe the cute look off my face and replace it with confidence. eyes. beeline towards him. he’s to the right of the next door I’ve gotta get through. right hand on the door as he turns open mouthed to say something, wh-wha’aww too late old timer. I raise an eyebrow, smirk and wink over my shoulder as I open the door myself. “no no don’t worry, I got it… you can’t do your job and be a gentleman at the same time”. a pause to challenge. western shootout music plays, but only in my head. he smiles. I smile. sucker, you would have won that one.

new room, same song. more candles, flowers, dresses. was that who i think it was?? yup. dont stare. oh oops. stepped on someone’s dress. apologize sincerely but not profusely.

elevator. all mirrors. quite considerate to those that are stuck at the front. now you know who’s looking at your ass. 10seconds…the roof, like everyone else. only the select who are allowed into the building are allowed on the roof. I see pins. pins, really? are we graduating from yale or at a party for crying out loud. well pins say more than wristbands I guess. what happened to the list? yawn, people using all the wrong moves to get in. tic toc people, my turn.

I push, literally to the front and just saunter through. one foot in and…”HEY!!! do you have a pin?!? You need a pin to be in here” Stop, turn, genuine disgust “are you seeeerious?” stomp off. he’s too busy to come get me.

sign. ok relax. more people. people. scanning. people…hmm. him. there he is.

i take silent post on his left. trying not to smirk. take only a second to notice me.

oh there you are. how’d you get in so fast? i had to make a call, they were being such assholes.

actually, i just walked right in

I write sometimes while sitting in traffic… which happens a lot in L.A.. I found this in my phone… thought it was funny. Thought I’d share…

I may have lost my mind. Listening to Blondie sing Heart of Glass and driving though south central. Standing out doesn’t make me want to roll up my windows… It makes me want to be an undercover cop. Shudder to think of me as a traffic cop, enforcing laws that are in place more for revenue than order…I’d go rogue. But undercover, catching people in the act…where do I sign up? Target practice? Yes Weapons training?!? Yes Pleeease! Getting shot (as long as I don’t die!) might be one more item on the been there,done that list. Ok so that’s a little too insane. But… still. A different identity. Secrets. Doing society a secret good deed… Sigh. Makes lounging by a pool or prancing through life via parties…so unproductive.

Then again. Being punctual, diciplined and organized may be out of the realm of my possibility. Limiting my excuses to put on false eyelashes? No makeup? Who am I kidding

Do you see. The white mid day sun. The butterflies dance on flowers. Do you hear. The birds singing your song. Do you feel. The wind kiss you hello. Do you know. How much you are loved.

See. The same ol beat. Hear. My own footsteps. Feel. Hair annoy my face as I fight with the wind to keep it out of my eyes. Think. Of bills. To do’s and have to’s. 

Here. Box #603. Key…Yawn. Coupons. Junk. Junk. Bill. Not for me. Bill… This one’s weird. White envelope. No return address. Hand written… Hmm… Rip…

Dear Ms…

We have received the results, and we urgently inform you the results were positive. Unfortunately, it is terminal and we do not have an accurate remaining life expectancy. Fortunately, every living person in the world had the same result.

Sincerely,

Life

Stop. Time time time has to stop. Cruelly it refuses. The letter slips from my hand and the wind carries it away. The bills. The junk. Are scattered on the sidewalk… next to me. I cry for 20 eternities on the sidewalk. A neighbor or two stepped over me on their way to their own fate. All too lost in sorrow, I lacked the motivation to even look at them. My eyes are too busy trying to burn in memory every leaf and flower. Every blade of grass. Time refuses to listen to me and stand still. In fact, it only rushes faster the slower I move.

Enough. Walking turns to running. New to do’s. Who to call first. Did they get the news. Do they realize. We’re all going to die… eventually.

My nana received her letter last night. She has no specific time. But she does have cancer. Her liver is surrounded by inoperable tumors. Saying this. Seeing it in black and white makes me cry. I rarely cry for worthy causes, so I let it. But not for long. When I see her. Which will be soon. I refuse to look at her with sadness in my eyes. I will not let abnormal cells dull the time I have left with her. We have something in common. We all do. Some of us have a name for it. Some doctors may give you a guess. But none know exactly when. Nor how.

All we have is… each other… and of course: now.

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.

This is a rare glimpse. Take it for what you will… but never mistake vulnerability for weakness.

A heater glows. Tangled in white sheets and pillows. Wake without reason. Ignore the cold floor. Shuffle through the fog to the bathroom. My robe is on inside-out. Toothbrush, sigh, too much paste. Fuck it. Wake up wake up wake up. Open your eyes. Yawn. Sigh. Brush brush boring. Open the window. Morning city, morning neighbors, morn— clouds?! Ugh. Go away clouds. Swish, spit, scowl. Where the hell is the sun?

Mmm, bet the bed is still warm. Shut up. Make it dont get back in it. Enough of this ponytail, let’s see if I can get away with not washing my hair toda— 

WHAT THE? WHAT? Wait, oh please tell me I’m still asleep. But, the bed is empty. The BED is EMPTY. Why dont I have a reflection? The room is there, everything is there but me. Cant get enough air, my lungs are going to burst. Can they? Am I alive? What happened? Bathroom mirror. Emtpy.  Closet mirror. Same. Pictures. I’m no longer in them.

NO. DAMNIT!!!!! NO! no. nono no nonononooooooo.

Tears stream. Fists fly. Glass flies. But blood does not. Screaming. But without sound. Only silence accompanies sight. And not the sight of me. In a heap on the floor, laying among the pieces of my rejection, trying to FEEL. I see: a spider is trying to flee unnoticed. LIFE! Oh beautiful life. Oh please dont go.

Wait: go… That’s it! GO!!!! Trailing glass as I hurtle down the endless six flights.  No one on the stairs. Doesnt mean a thing. Keep…going. Light is streaming through the windows around the door. Hurry up. My foot slips on the tile and I catch myself just as I reach the door. Resting my forehead on the door, I catch my breathe. I will open this door and everything will be ok.

I throw it open and run blindly into the light…

(to be continued)

get comfortable this is a long one… 

I am one of a few. who refuses to do “what it takes” to make it out here. because HERE lies the illusion: Hollywood is a journey into ILLUSION, it…is…not a destination. you allow it to become the destination and you will take plane, train, donkey, or dirtbike to get there…sleeping through the scenery. only to arrive… at an empty lot.

wednesday night. holly scooped me up. ahhh!!! wardrobe button malfunction. but it’s a new shirt!?!?!!rock it because there’s no turning back now. gotta love double stick tape. we wound through the hills. alternating between bad 80’s songs and the silence of staring at the map on her iphone. a u-turn at a dead end. a last minute eye liner check. i’m greeted by someone who is sure he’s someone enough to give me shit about not speaking spanish. practice grace under fire, bite your lip…bite your lip. i throw a wink and a “because all my relatives speak english” over my shoulder as i walk in without invitation. 

yawn. relax, it was his idea of friendly conversation. my idea of friendly fire. i’m walking and mentally pitching excuses to bail when my heart stops. oh, my weakness. simple girl. simple pleasures. lights. it looks like the house is about to drown in them. no walls between you and twinkling beauty. if i lived here i’d never sleep. i am becoming such a dreamer… zap… hellooo! welcome back to the room…

the house belonged to a musician. a musician who is trying in vain to start a clothing line. he doesnt care because he doesnt need the money. we all had a great laugh of it and i may have convinced him to change the name to wild whoooooooooooo……. nevermind. a cute girl stood up and introduced herself. i dont remember what her name was (be more memorable) probably because she followed her name quickly with “i swear i have friends, they’ll be here any minute”. wow. i wonder if the musician has a permit to run a daycare at night. “it’s ok babygirl we’ll be your friends til your other ones get here”. an actor destroys the myth that he’s an arrogant asshole. pleasantries. holly and i bail and find our way to the patio. she smokes and i listen in an absent minded daze… maybe i said a few inconsequential things. oh really? dj so&so lives there? think the musician will invite him over? no, he’s out of town. the actor joins us and sits on the rail, blocking MY view! he is raining on my parade of pretending i was in my own back yard. bla bla london (as if we hadnt noticed his lovely accent). bla bla smalltalk. he gets the hint and we’re left alone to our dreams.

refill necessity brought us back inside. the house is a bit of a zoo and i dont mean because there were a lot of people there. ha ha…

the guy who’s all too sure offers a tour of the house. i need practice being polite so i dont crack a joke about if he is paid to give tours of his friend’shouse. bla bla bathroom. bla bla guestroom. bla bla office. and then. he sat. well i knew this was coming. i chose the big leather office chair far enough away. picked up a silver letter opener and interrupted my thought of throwing it at him like a dart by reminding myself that i shouldnt pass up an excercise to “act like i’m paying serious attention”.

this was his first pitch… he fumbled vaguely through a monologue of the necessity of “doing what it takes” to make it in hollywood. patience in these instances is effortless. i let him finish his speech. i let silence scream until he made an uncomfortable hand gesture in effort to express it was my turn to react. I laughed. I sipped my drink. Swallowed slowly, in an intentionally poor effort to hide a smirk. I had been sitting straight, so I leaned back. My back is to the sea. I select a low tone of voice. not the tone of a small girl. the tone of a woman who isn’t seeking approval. eyes. I calmly stated my refusal to believe “that” is the only way. I said this sitting on designer furniture, in a room where walls move to remove the glass between you and a sea of diamonds reality calls city lights.

this sham of a man, tried to match my tone and laughed at my naivety. then came the hard sell. he brought up my duty of supporting my family financially at the small price of a secret. I lost patience. Fuck the risk of sounding like an orphan, I announce I need not support them nor myself at the price of my soul. this brought the discussion to God. I rarely let someone make me lose my cool and this was definitely on track to happen had i continued to humor the insanity. I stood. Picked up my glass and left him with ”you believe what you will. I’ll do what I will and who I won’t. ill see you on the other side and let God sort us out”

I pound heels. I don’t look back.

In the kitchen are Holly and the others. I get distance from the frustration by rummaging through my purse. Found my phone. a missed call. my roomie. a txt: “you have to decide on that job TONIGHT. they have other people to interview but they don’t want to waste their time if you’re going to take it”

Fuck. I supposed to make a decision after a couple drinks…….? after that conversation just now………?! where are my words? what… is… my decision? this is the difficult proposition to ponder. the safe route. the 9-5. the sure thing. my bank account won’t let me say no but my heart won’t let me say yes. sales. stability…really? My mind’s racing as I step into the privacy of the bathroom… call her, get the # and promise to call the potential employer right back…

I open the door. I’m walking … I cant see her but I know she’s around the corner… yelling through the house as if it were mine: Holly! heads or tails? The actor jumps in: ooooh I want to play!! the musician: yea me too!

great: then everyone all at once - heads or tails?!

tails! tails! holly and the actor say simultaneously. the musician pouts. well i was going to say tails but i dont want to run with the herd so i say heads.

well i veto your heads because you wanted  to say tails. i’ve been trying to tell myself heads all week but i really wanted support in tails. so we all said tails. so it’s final.

holly knows me and knows better than to ask. at least in front of present company. the actor doesnt and cant move on… he gives me a long look “well….?! what did we just decide? what was that all about” everyone is looking at me

we just decided whether or not i’m going to accept a job i was just offered.

the actor “out of thin air?!? really? you’ve decided your future by flipping an imaginary coin??!?”

i smile. you guys pulled my fate from thin air, and that is exactly where it is anyway…not on the side of a coin

i grabbed my phone and walked out, dialing… the perfect words already in my throat.

just as the phone begins to ring… i overheard the actor: i thought i was crazy, but that’s just insane

insanity does not lie in turning down a job my heart wont agree to. insanity is in agreeing to lie down without a heart for a job.