Contentions:

I don't agree with that--

I'm eating mashed potatoes.  That I made last night.  Right out of the huge pot.

I'm watching Pawn Stars.  I love that show and I wanna go visit that store in Vegas and look at some crazy old antiques and Americana.

You play so beautifully it makes me cry.  I wish you'd break the rules more often.

I'm thirsty for water and nothing else. 

It may be superficial, supercilious, a superfluous something or all the aforementioned, but one of the traits I still most admire in a man is a good solid poker face.

I haven't been able to sleep for the past five days. 

Mostly, I've lost my taste for cigarettes. 

Redux

My insomnia as of late could only be described as RAGING.

I get tired and I know deep down I'm tired but whenever I drift off, and as soon as I do, within 30 minutes or so, I wake up, body burning, heart pumping, limbs burning for intense physical movement, eyelids heavy but mind keenly alert....... regardless of what sleeping pills, or hour, or improved "sleep hygiene" i.e. conscious and deliberate abstaining from computers, techtronics, LED lights in general.... and there's been a general all-prevailing sort of emotional RAWNESS from the inside out of me-- something nothing like depression though very likely physiological and definitely NOT idiopathic, fact, for once in my life I don't think it'd be... UNWISE... to consider the possibility that maybe something IS wrong and needs to be addressed as opposed to just chalking it up, without a second thought, to the behavior and/or misbehavior of my neurotransmitters.  Though, well, it is that.  It is that, that and residue.  Because I've rather addressed, introspected, and addressed that which needs to be addressed, not that doing so provides an immediate solution, cuz, fact, I've addressed it a million times, inwardly, and outwardly, slowly as is my fashion, more Tortoise than Hare, so what, I prefer to think before I speak or take action.......... I'm even relatively slow out here on the West Coast where things are thought to be slow, and I've come to accept this after my years in New Amsterdam wherein folks react halfway through the causal action's completion, and seem to harbor an arsenal of retorts and genuinely witty dismissals on their tongues, that, for all their silvery steel, serve to do nothing but stop a conversation in its tracks....  Verbal cluster bombs, Geneva-ban notwithstanding, that land, with precision, at a target suggestion, and proceed to detonate upon contact, releasing shells and shrapnel propelled so furiously from the center out as to knock out all other existing ideas as well.  ...

...That still happens here, too...

Anyway, what was this rant about?

Oh yeah, rawness and residue. 

Naw it makes sense to be chemical.

I was abed and food poisoned for days, taking equine doses of sedative and now I'm still both illness-affected and in some minor withdrawal, and, perhaps a resultant mania. 

Whaddya gonna do.

More time to meself and to write, that's never a bad thing. 

 

My cozy little place...

...has gotten cozier with the addition of my happy 5' Christmas tree.... there's now a veritable nook with couch and antique sleek black table around my tree, for whom I've made some ornaments already, 3 angels flying together, one after the other, out of some white lace ribbon I happened to have... a bit of tinsel and some red and gold nail polish splattered glass discs...

I've gotten caught up on a lot of work.... things seem to be all right..... I needed that, that 3 days of sleep I guess.  As usual.  As I so often do.

I just had food poisoning...

...that was bad.  The universe is REALLY telling me to stop and think about things, I think.  Though, it was hard to even THINK the past couple days.  I mean that was crippling GROSS.

The only voyage

The only voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes.
~Marcel Proust

I TOLD YOU THERE WAS SOMETHING WICKED IN THE AIR.  SEE????

Almost a comically bad day, this one. 

Oh, what's it gonna, what's it gonna,

What's it gonna be
say
look like
say like
this time?

What's it gonna be this time around, what's it gonna,

Like opening a Christmas card. 

Or unwrapping a-

Diarist on Diary

There's some good news and some bad news. 

Tails: It's Midwest-cold out here; uncharacteristically and seasonably BRICKass cold.
Heads:  "A Love Supreme" is a winter record.

Tails:  I have a pressing and unwieldy to-do list.
Heads:  I've learned by now to simplify that shit into actionable items.

Actionable Items.  And to prioritize them to a degree.  My priority, upon getting back from the gym, was first to scribble out my rent check and slip under my landlady's mailbox-- simple, actionable.  Done.  And second, to play with Masha.  For a long time too, with the feather-toy.  These are the most pressing items.  I am filled with such an intense love for and from my kitten lately, it's kind of terrifying. 

Heads:  I've been playing feather-toy through full volumeblasting I. Acknowledgment, II. Resolution, and 8 minutes of III. Pursuance, until just now when--
Tails:  Fckn landlady just called to turn down the music so
Heads:  After an at-unsneezable 23 minutes I had to stop, which allowed me to continue onto item 3 of my list, which is Writing this Blog Entry.

What can I tell you, Dear Diary, you incorrigible Loudmouth? 

The world spins me around as it has and will ever. 

My heart is a stone as it has always been and ever will be.

............................................

Somehow I've gotten this gig translating this diary... I think I mentioned it.  I'm the only person who has possession and understanding of the original documents, no one has in months, bakers dozen or more, been able to decipher this thing, professionals notwithstanding-- professionals being, in fact, really all's who've given it a crack...  I'm finding myself extremely competent for some reason, devising and insisting on a method, additional resources-- downright finicky demands, these-- and setting a schedule, and just generally acting like I know what I'm doing.  Like, I'm pulling this shit out of my ass, to be frank.  But I'm not really.  I mean it works, it's working, I'm tearing through it, and like, I'm asking for things scanned and printed a very particular way because it works best.  I'm asking for all relevant names, places, technologies, because those are potential tripper-ups, illegible mountain ranges, EEG readouts, nonsense and when one is writing for themselves, it's all names and pseudonyms and code it's all code it's psychology really it's fucking INTUITION that's all it is don't harangue on something you can't read just keep going, go with your impulse, get to know the person and it'll be a breeze............

I don't know, it's working, I really didn't think I'd manage, when presented with the first sheet of the document for perusal, I felt like something of an ass for saying so cavalierly "Oh, I can do that easily, I speak both those languages, no problem," upon overhearing the documentarians' dilemma-- it was chicken scratch-- and I wondered when I'd have to gracefully regretfully bow out-- but, as it so happens, I don't have to do that and here I am, a being already nonlinear and temporally irrespect, now peeking out of the dark, heavy-lidded, twinkling (or so photos inform) eyes of an inventor, Russian-born immigrant living in Switzerland in the 1920s just as the world is about to go kooky, passing weeks in a day, in a day as I've set my deadlines at an entry per-- and that is not all I have to say Dear D, but that is all I'll say right now. 

dear diary:

the year is drawing to a close
the hours have grown so short
and the evening has grown so dim

but the light in me and the light in you will never dim
the pain in my heart is fresh as red as crimson tide
the wound only opens anew
with every setting crimson sun

i ask nothing
simply say

that i have not forgotten you
that i'm still here

nothing squared

well today im just plain spaced out
spacing out all over the place
whatta bore
traffic court
officer sepulveda is funny and cute
we're now pals
and i have to come back for a third time
thats what they do, if you have it in you to just keep coming back to the goddamn place and wasting an entire day you'll probably get it dismissed... but you might not... it just depends on whether the cop shows up.  if he does, it doesnt matter if the ticket was BS or not, you're fucked and have to be the exorbitant fucking fine.  ugh. 

laundry- i did it.  was a pain in my fucking ass. 

thats it, really.

rage

Fuck it.
I can't write angry music, and who cares about my fucking music, well, its therapeutic but... here we go.  Here it is.  No names, but the bullet points separate the messages.

• You're a flake.  
• You're a fucking flake.  Every time.  It's unfathomed.
• You, are, like, are you serious??? You can't just-- I mean I understand emotional unavailability, I understand the need, occasionally, more than occasionally, but I would never allow myself-- I hardly ever allow myself to act on it at all, let alone just fucking not, just fucking not, when I've always done everything in my power for you, at the drop of a hat.  Just mindblown and wild.
• You, you, are a bunch of fucking assholes. 
• You're a judgmental shit.
• You, I don't know what to say about you, except that... well, shit.
  
  
  Furthermore, NOBODY CARES.  I mean, most people just don't give a RAT'S ASS.  I can't, I can't, the time is making me cry cuz there's no time and I have to go to traffic court tomorrow AGAIN so I can't down that bottle of pills and die cuz I have to take care of that, that fucking, MISERABLE, I have nothing to look forward to right now I just want someone to CARE I JUST-
  
  
  I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO CARE WITHOUT HAVING TO CARE BACK.  like a child.  yeah.  like a fucking baby, thats what I want.  thats what i want.  im battered bruised and underslept and always fucking chasing the dragon
  
  
  I just want my MOMMY.  I WANT MY MOMMY, i want my mommy, i've lived this whole thousand years without a mommy and i had to be the one taking care of her too young, too soon, i wonder what she would think about what im doing this MESS i'm in.  she would think its fucking stupid.  
  
  
  an egotistical no egomaniacal pursuit and im asking all these people to waste their time doing this my BULLSHIT and i just get so sad 
   
  someone once told me they said to me when i asked when i asked if they care about someone, because they have to they asked, 'have you ever cared about someone because you had to, have you ever had to care about someone?' and they said 'its not that simple, is it.'
  and its not.  i just want to not have to 
  
  
  i just want a confidante, i just want a confidante to whom i can tell anything without having to CARE and i want i confidante who isnt jealous or weird and i want i confidante who's just objective and always CARES, whether they like it or not.  and i want a confidante i dont want to kiss.  and i want a confidante i dont have to pay.  and I WANT MY MOMMY and i want something that doesnt exist 
  
  
  and i want something that doesnt exist
  and i want something that doesnt exist
  
  
  and i want an everloving break from my physiological AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
  
  
  
  

As above, as below

Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out

She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams

And though her daddy would scream and shout
She simply would not take the garbage out.

and the details are:

In a sad bad and dangerous place mentally and emotionally.  fucking losing it.  for real.  whats the point.

oh my christ

i am gonna lose my goddamn mind
i am gonna lose my goddamn mind
i am gonna lose my goddamn mind
i am gonna lose my goddamn mind

the footsteps in the hallway are scaring me
i have no voice
i have no purpose
everythings just a waste of fucking time
im going to have a heart attack
my teeth are going to rot out of my head
my traffic ticket will go to warrant
and i will jump off a goddamn bridge
which one should i jump off

Natch

I did it!!!

I did it.  I'm back.  I'm home.  I'm alone, alone for the first time in a whole week, I mean even a moment, I did an entire week without one moment--

I made sure, my apartment is sparkling clean, there's food, Masha's litter is fresh, the bed is made and I can finally use my blanket again-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  A mindblown music video shot and in the can, post production team in place, feature film rough cut done and editing tweaks and scoring in place, great show at great venue and band in place, bonds strengthened and formed, a new job, translating the completely uncharted territories of the diary of a Russian-born, broken French immigrant inventor, from the 1920s through WWII.....

All amazing.  Tons to do.  Not tonight.  No.  Tonight-- leftovers and my Real Housewives.  Natch.

Love.
Chlo

Wowee...

My best decisions in life have always been made when I don't let myself spend any time considering them. 

This past week has been amazing, amazing times, amazing memories, creativity, laughs, revelations, projects accomplished and in the can... and of course, a mindblown amount of hard work and last minute problem solving.  I feel like I'm wearing fresh eyes.  I feel like I'm whole. 

And of course much of the work has just begun.  And of course this blog entry touches on nothing-- I don't have time right now to write it, but I will, because this particular series of revelations is all light and will neither offend or intrigue anyone whomsoever... but just sayin.'  Don't think so much.  Do.  I mean, think a lot, about everything else, about everything other than what you're going to do.  Because if you can't foresee your immediate or distant future circumstances, down to the detail, your plans mean nothing at all... Just do something, and make it work.

and then it rained..

O ho ho and a bottle of rum

Oh pirate what do you do with an achy heart?  Some rummy and gin and some gin rummy, yart!

It's straight coming out of my chest............ do I sound healthy to you guys?  Mentally and/or physically?  I think, I don't know, granted I don't talk about much on this but irritating abstractions, but, still, one could get a feel, no? 

I think I'm, I dunno, I think I'm fucked, to be quite honest. 

Um.....

 Nevermind.

good gracious im tired. 

Ahhhhhh.

Here's to one sigh of some relief.
Car- check.
No flu- check.
iPhone- check.
Itinerary for P- check.
Rent paid- check.
All band members notified and available for show- check.
Relatively clean pad- check.

An equation.

This damn blog has just become the ultimate exercise in self-censorship.  It was erected prematurely and now it can't.... problems:
1. I have in it, no more outlet
2. I AM a fucking outlet.

S, our lives run so parallel, no wonder we go years without crossing paths.  Yeah, there's enough content for three lifetimes and at least four portfolios and now it's time to edit or it will all be worth zilch, like this combination Megaphone Muzzle.  Kangaroo Keyboard. 

Epiphany: Everything takes two years. 
Everything else takes ten years.
Even mathematically speaking, very few sums are simply their parts.
Magic is an example of more.
Censored diatribe is an example of less.

I am sick of being sick.
And having the curtains drawn, obscuring infinity.

I'm so sick of the 'enza. Literally, sick of it.

I look distinctly feverish and 'maciated even though I've been doing nothing but eating and laying on my ass for 6 days... Funny how that works.
Moreover, I've been listening to Amy Winehouse nonstop for about two weeks (and also watching Law and Order: SVU, and a lot of it.  Full-fledged dissertation on that damn show to come.)
No, I've also done a damn lot.  But I have an even lotter to do in the next few weeks.  And I'm sick of being sick.  Masha loves it though. 

Facebook is Weird.

But Facebook Fan pages are less weird; are, in fact, better.

My eyes

My eyes feel like a couple of turnips stuck into two holes in my head
I had the influence-a, the flu, the 'enza, for the past few days
(on top of it all, no shit)
but i'm watching gregory's girl
and it is halloween
so all is not last

come one come all and meet me at the haunted maze!!!!!

ok i was got, good. hahahaha

but those first few from the other numbers were real!

My Inbox

The following text messages are real.  Nothing has been changed to protect NOBODY, cuz they're fucking gila monsters, and they don't have rights.  I didn't change a thing, I don't have to add a thing, I don't even need to say anything except that I did not change a thing below:

----From------
681-75
----Message---
I am really interested in making you an offer for you vehicle. Please give me a call so that we can discuss it further. 347-478-5438
Danielle
----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
1:47pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
Hello, I would like to buy your car.  We can pay  80 [sic] and even arrange all of the pick up and towing.
----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:28pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
And as a client of mytrashedcar.com, we will buy you dinner on the evening of pick up
----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:33pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
Dinner will be provided with your choice of mytrashedcar.com associate, male or female, your preference. Send us your email address and we will quickly s
----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:37pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
end photos for you to choose your dinner escort.

----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:37pm

----From------
759-73
----Message---
Your prompt response is mandatory.

----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:40pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
This exciting dinner offer will expire at 12AM EST if you don't reply with an email address. We would like to share photos of our associates' phaces so t

----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:58pm


----From------
759-73
----Message---
hat you may select.

----End-----
Oct 27, 11 (Thu)
4:58pm

And exhale, exhale, exhale.

Shit, well, I feel virtuous.  The utmost, uppermost, most foreboding part of my to-do list has been checked.

Check yoself, shit. 

I was avoiding it; I was paralyzed by it; I was able to read 600 page novels and write music and do 100 hours worth of admin work and make business plans but I was not able to DEAL with this shit, really.  I mean it was really a horrible experience, the car thing.  Like really sad and horrible and disappointing and cruel and unfair and in hindsight quite dangerous, and so it left me paralyzed both figuratively and literally, as I needed to be carted around everywhere, dependent, which feeling, if anyone knows me at all, should know really not make for a happy camper.  And it was adorned with other little unfathomabilities- phone breaking (which co-morbidity REALLY leads to paralysis), tooth breaking, and my own, willful adornment of pill-induced foghead and following withdrawal.

And there's all this stuff going on. 

And so much noise. 

And so now I've gone ahead and gotten my iPhone upgrade (yippee, more beeping) and towed my poor Blue from the collision place and diddled around a bit to find places that would purchase him til I found one that offered a satisfactory sum and no hassle, only to find myself today truly HASSLED, HARASSED and HARANGUED by these various gila monsters who are now interested in purchasing him for a measlier sum, and won't stop calling, even after I tell them no, and deliberately confuse me by ambiguously identifying themselves.  WTF is wrong with these people??? These used-carfolk??? When I first tried to buy a used car they did the same shit they just kept right the fuck on calling.  Both ends of the equation ultimate in hassle, in coked-up, geeked-up, gila monster hassle, blowing up my phone.  Calling AND texting and then calling again.

F.

But the nice people are coming to pick up Blue and pay me tomorrow.  And the pretty old car I was generously offered as long as I fix her up proper is sitting in the driveway, 100 meters from the shop, ready to be carted over there and fixed. 

So this productive week, during which I ran and made phonecalls and cleaned and went to auditions and did some work and paid off some shit and didn't avoid everything, was good, good yes good.  And I'm surely climbing out of the hole.

Next- work, next- DENTISTS and DOCTORS.

Dentists and doctors aren't a pain in the ass I don't have any antipathy toward them at all in fact I like them usually but the cost is murder when you don't have insurance and need like two surgical procedures done on your molars. 

And work is fun. 

I've been listening to Amy Winehouse lately.  Man is she good.  Rest in Peace, Angelgirl.

SNOW

WATCH

watch to the end please.  the end is especially important.

Rules for Writing

“Rules for Writing”

1. The reader is a friend, not an adversary, not a spectator.
2. Fiction that isn't an author's personal adventure into the frightening or the unknown isn't worth writing for anything but money.
3. Never use the word "then" as a ­conjunction – we have "and" for this purpose. Substituting "then" is the lazy or tone-deaf writer's non-solution to the problem of too many "ands" on the page.
4. Write in the third person unless a ­really distinctive first-person voice ­offers itself irresistibly.
5. When information becomes free and universally accessible, voluminous research for a novel is devalued along with it.
6. The most purely autobiographical ­fiction requires pure invention. Nobody ever wrote a more auto­biographical story than "The Metamorphosis".
7. You see more sitting still than chasing after.
8. It's doubtful that anyone with an internet connection at his workplace is writing good fiction [the TIME magazine cover story detailed how Franzen physically disables the Net portal on his writing laptop].
9. Interesting verbs are seldom very interesting.
10. You have to love before you can be relentless.

man o' man

i finished my book.  :-(

shit, i feel wack.  wack wack and deservedly more wack.  sad and bad and tired and pointless.  

the writer notes:

ahh dreams
remember the dream about the orange light on the silver lake about ice cold and red hot, blue white waves of light
dreaming is what makes me heal
it is just as real,
and i know you dream
about the same floodlit houses and wintry orifices as me.

Oh, me.

There's nothing quite sillier than writing miserable woe-is-anyone-whomsoever blog or facebook entries, but, what else are they for??  Things are going swimmingly in all ways and I'm really quite happy; my synapses do their thing regardless.

like being low

soy deprimanda...

if that means anything.

i've got the blue meanies. 

and all of a sudden

i feel incredibly bummed out.

and then i finally yawned

there's a sort of "guh" to just living, isn't there?

i'm afraid of what i'll do when this book runs out.

If you like to live one way, and live 100 other ways too:

As I couldn't sleep--

I read 300 pages of this book.  Left myself about 50 to go instead of finishing it... so I wouldn't have to--

"Freedom" by Franzen.
Yes.
Yes yes yes.
Dwarfs everything I've read in the last 2 years... (which granted, hasn't been much...but still.)

READ it.  It's everything.  If you're lost.  If you're confused.  If you want a conversation with someone who will understand what you're going through.  If you like to live 100 different other lives, than the one you're living.  Read it. 

i have a cat(ivan)
she make me glad(ivan)
i'm out of ativan
it make me mad(ivan)

guess i dun had(ivan)
more than i had(ivan)

im out of ativan
('nits pretty bad(ivan)!!)

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

blackout

powers out... everyone make ghost noises.

Blood Moon

This is the hard Blood Moon.  The full moon that rattles all the stars.  This is the hardest one of the year.

When I walked back in the door just now, after filmings dunferdeday, I said to my Masha, we purred, and I said I love you, and I love you, and I will always you and you're beautiful.  And that I know, I know, about the moon.  I can feel it too, we all can, how hot it's been lately. 

But this next new moon is a gorgeous moon.  A gorgeous night of randomly uniform splashes of lustre.  So don't give up, Cat.

We're the same, a couple of nameless slobs who don't belong to anyone and nobody belongs to us, not even each other... 

We belong together you and me, I said again to Masha, and we'll always be together, under the same roof, under the same strange moons.

literature

my eyes are huge right now, encircled with deep dark hollows on which ive slapped some preparation H, to minimize puffiness, but i still look like a ukrainian orphan, and nausea prevents me from eating to fatten up any.

a total psycho totally totaled my car.  when i called her she sounded like she was suffering from an acute personality disorder, and wouldnt give me her insurance company's case number and said shakily that she wanted to just let the insurance companies deal with it so so so, so, please dont CALL HERE AGAIN BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO BE TO BE ABUUUUSED!!! and hung up the phone.  so i had to call them myself, and they gave me all the information, and they said 'Yeah if she's acting strange, you don't have to speak to her, you can just call here directly' with some weary sympathy.

Please read:

FREEDOM by jonathan franzen

it's so good

Bad TV and Naps

Bad TV and Naps for All!!!

We've all been working hard and we all deserve it!!!

Curl up in the same position as your cat, next to them on the bed, put on some crappy TV and fall asleep on this beautiful fall-leaf day

so?

so, and so?

whats your next move, tiger?  please tell me... crystal ball says I dunno.

but, i'm doing well.  real well.  being patient, waiting for the tides to rise.  you know how i feel about time.  

Sigh

Tonight there is a rusted dimly glowing perfect amber sliver of a moon

Tomorrow there will be no moon at all

A new moon

Tomorrow I will sing my heart out

Tonight I will relax... let myself feel inspired, and sleep, for 10 hours.  Before 2 am. 

We're on at 8.  Be there.  Or pray for me.

what was i thinking when i nearly ran that girl down

what WAS she thinking

my car is totaled

girl totaled, totally rammed into me

went to rehearsal

and now i'm looking at my car and i'm so sad.  i feel so bad for my car.  this totally sucked.  it's like everytime i think about................ i can't get a break.

whyd you put this curse on me o universe?

O but that's silly thinking, and out of character for me.

I know you are no giver of curses, not anymore, and not to me, you've been a giver of blessings... often in disguise... and another, and another, and another disguise on top.......

But this may well be a blessing in disguise.  I love Betty Blue aka The Blue Smear, and I will certainly be mourning him.  But, best possible case scenario-- the girl admits fault, I get some cash, I get a new Betty Blue and I'll better care for her this time.  She was coming apart- I loved her, I resented her, she cost me so much money in parking tickets... this time no.

I know you know.  I mean, I know you NOW.  I know how you operate.

All blessings, in disguise, shouted out to the universe, in times of despair. 

netflix insta!

Network
Eat Drink Man Woman
Call Girl
4

i could write for starbucks--

heres to shorter days and longer nights
and not minding one bit
heres to better filling the room, playing a show in redondo beach

heres to everything that might as well have been lost in the mail, right?

heres to the fall at least
shorter days

Love,
CvD

hey.

;-)

shaking a cup

my cat just scratched the shit out of me 

I'm so SICK of shaking a FUCKING CUP at you all
you know some people actually just like my music?  some people just enjoy it?
you FUCKERS
seriously
dont give a shit
none of you
and thats a-ok
DONT GIVE A SHIT
just dont, dont fucking, EXPECT
that showing up to a show
indebts me to you
for some favor
that i will somehow fucking OWE YOU

thats how i fucking feel
motherfuckers

i want to beat someone to death right now
what kind of time do you motherfuckers think i have
a drink??? you think i want to go out for a fucking drink with you??? youre going to ask me every day??? i dont want to go out for a fucking drink, or dinner, or to some party or to be your date at some CAA fucking stupid event you fucking idiot why the fuck would i want to do that and why cant you just leave me the fuck alone you ABJECT FUCKING STRANGER

the answer is FOREVER NO.  NO.  NO.  NEVER.  NEVER.  SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DO YOUR JOB.  you think that like i owe you a fucking date if you come to a show?  NEXT TIME I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE IF I EVER SEE ANY OF YOU MONSTERS IN PERSON

leave me the fuck alone
i feel like i want to die
dont you know im involved with someone, and with a lot, how deaf are you to everything i say, i feel
i feel nauseous
and angry
my cat just scratched me
ITS SIX IN THE FUCKING MORNING

i want to throw up

i HATE you
you downstairs-living deluded fucking motherfuckers
you facebook using

i feel so nauseous
i want to tear out my hair
i want to die
i dont want to go ANYWHERE
i dont want to have to wake up
at ANY TIME
leave me the FUCK ALONE ALL YOU RULES AND REGULATIONS
all you NICETIES AND BANAL BULLSHIT
all you RETARDED NAMES AND STUPID PHOTOS
all you fucking SCHIZOS
all you fucking WANNABES
fuck the FUCK OFF, MEN

my cat just scratched the SHIT OUT OF ME
its six in the FUCKING MORNING
AGAIN
i feel like i will never die

And you, YOU BITCH, you will never, ever, get your head out of your own ass.  never.  never ever ever there for me.  i dont even care anymore.  im done with it. 

HEY

how are you?
thats what i really want to know. 
enough about me.  really.

j'ai mal aux dents

et personne que tu ne comprends pas

Mne bolna, mne bolna, i nado shto bi
rasskazhi

sometimes I'm sadder than you'll ever know

sometimes I'm as sad as only you'll ever know

ever been in a hotel room for 2 weeks

just sobbing into the pillows in front of bad tv
rootless as i am
theres still a bit of nerve left there
and when it gets infect
it hurts like burning

What causes scarring?

Masha was real mad at me for being gone so long (she's not anymore, she's thrilled now that I cleaned the house and have been home a solid 9 days), so she really got my ass and theres a huge cut running down my calf, and its a little pink around the edges.  Ever since Anya cut her nails theyre not like razor blades anymore, but its looking pretty bad.  I hope it doesnt scar.

I woke up the other morning to a dream about you; we went to your house with your friend... it was a new house, it was overcast and sort of empty and gray but I think there was a grand piano there, covered with a blue scarf, and but the light was beautiful and it was right on the water... this balcony was facing the water and these huge glass doors, and when I was about to walk out I saw nothing but water, but it didn't look like the Pacific because there were sort of gray rocky cliffs, and there were people in the ocean, with kids splashing around and some sunlight broke through clouds on to them, and I stepped onto the balcony and it was so narrow, barely enough to stand on, dark blue gray painted wood, and I looked down and it was literally on the water, like that house in Malibu but even more, like those houses in New Orleans, there was no ground beneath it just water, and it looked so beautiful and when I turned around your older brother was standing there and he was smiling and sort of like, isn't this a beautiful place?

But he looked like, he didn't look like your brother, he looked like, Algerian or something, with gray hair, kind of like Anthony Bourdain, dressed in black and very very tan, and he was very friendly as he walked me through the house and showed me out the door...

And it really was a beautiful house, and you weren't there.

And I woke up and it was overcast and cool and gray for the first time in months.  And maybe that's why I had the dream at all.  But I felt like water.

same shit all over again
 

drinking just makes me depressed

Reaping the bennefitz

Ahhhhhhhhh....

Since I came back from Seattle, actually, I've been feeling pretty good.  And after this quiet day of cleaning and contemplation.  I feel pretty great.  Masha's just thrilled with the cleaning.  To her it's like, an indication of caring, caring for her, caring for the house.... When a mother lets their house just go to shit, you know.. kids feel neglected.

Helen

all day i just wanted to feel, let myself feel
now i want to be deaf dumb and blind

i just ran with the wind and it was beautiful but-- my headphones cracked up around 25 minutes in and then totally stopped working so i turned around and ran back without music... it was nice still... but not like, with the pathos, the pathos of the voices and the players

i am such an insignificant little light
and so are you

i want to be deaf dumb and blind at the end of the night

Spark

There, it's finally done, and it took all day.  So many thoughts ran through my veins in the yellow light.  Now my sparkling floors and my sparkling hair and the empty spaces and the parallel lines, now they can mean nothing much at all.

I cut my hand and I got rid of that goddamn TV, enormous, broke, old and useless and unwieldy like everything he handed me down.  Yeah Michael.  Donor of the bed so misshapen and used up it crippled me for about a year and half.  I lugged it out and put it at the end of the hall, that hideous old table with it, and there it sits, and it looks exactly like an album cover........ I don't remember which...... Eels maybe...... A TV on a table at the end of a hall.  Center frame.  Kind of creepy.

I just want to read a book while NOT being in motion, en route somewhere.  I just want to daydream.  What can you daydream when everything you wanted is real.  What a strange loss, that is.

I am alone and you are alone and I sometimes feel ultimately worthy of praise but unworthy of love and childish as that is, you do too.

If the new table is parallel to the mattress and the wood paneling it's 4 30 am last night again and always will be.

Everything is in its place and now that feels like nothing at all, and the trash I take outside and then I feel the night air and then that feels like everything that ever is--

I'm going to run.  As long as I can as far as I can as fast as I can as long as I can

Lacrimosa

Oh the slow sadness that comes with being contemplative and alive.  Knowing the weaknesses of yourself and those around you as akin to knowing how and when exactly you're all going to die.  Weaknesses, is too wrong a word.

Time is this strange thing that surrounds, and for some reason I see it all at once, and nothing ever surprises me.  There are these beautiful moments and they are all the same, perhaps it's just my mood but nothing seems long ago, and nothing seems recent, and nothing in particular will happen and--

There was something I wanted to do when I walked in this door, I was looking forward to it and now I feel like I'm missing something, what was it?  Oh.  I wanted to smoke.  I wanted to smoke a cigarette.  Oh, it feels good, to smoke right now.

livestreams

meh...
what do i have to say, i have no time to say it... on the go-go-go still... i have still not seemed to have a spent a single day just lolligagging in the house by myself, nor have i managed to clean or do my laundry yet... the summer seemed to stretch on like a thousand years; i've been back less than a week and it already feels like ages ago.  i dunno.
my show tonight might be streaming live- http://www.tripsantamonica.com/live/

..but last time I said this it didn't work, so... give it a whirl if you like

Well I'm too busy to blue-- I'm not so busy that I couldn't take a couple days to hang, relax, and tonight to finish my book......... but the madness (antiMadness really) continues, and I'm in a better state of mind for it, I suppose because, I know I won't have to leave my cat for nearly a month straight, that's a main thing... and because filming is does... and filming is difficult in a way that music is not.  I never know if I'm prepared for it, I guess.  Something like that.  One thing really cool about film though:  theyre puzzles, they're puzzles you solve as you read and as you shoot and somehow everything makes sense in the end...

I wonder what it means to be happy.  I have everything I need for it.  And I am.  I have this sort of "tragic soul"... but it's not unhappy.  It's just that I find beauty sad.  A full moon, a cool breeze, a moment when...

I have done far too much talking for a long time.  I don't like to talk that much.  I can't stand arguing.  That's normal, who likes to argue?  Well actually a lot of people seem to love it.  I'd rather never do it at all. But talking too.  I need to let things sit and be some more, to be quiet.  To be quiet and to be healthy, quieter and healthier, if only just for a while. 

I'm just sensitive to gravity.  Gravity isn't sad.  It's just gravity.  Without it, we'd all just be floating around.



II

You know what you're good at?
Feigning candor.
Talking about the things that aren't really weren't really those things that changed your life that shaped you
They sound so personal
They're deceptive
Because it's the big things, it's those things about which you stay
Mum

9.10.

So I arrived back home, emotions unadulterated by braincoolant, which stuff I'd ran out of, which wasn't so  bad actually... yeah I got back and the urge to emotionally adulterate was significantly lessoned [sic].  And I wanted to write but I WAS fucking tired and I wanted to say how much more I appreciate in hindsight and who doesn't I know but the last month-- the last exhaustive [sic] month, month or two, was beautiful how, wedding withstanding even... Not withstanding... How now that it's all over though-- how for a change-- I don't feel suddenly bored or depressed or doom and gloom how I didn't even allow myself or desire for myself a three-day coma how I took care of things and then went to dance class and sat around and problemsolved with my like-minded logical girlfriend how I sobbed when I first saw Masha, laid down on the floor and sat her on my chest and just BAWLED
How I miss people still and miss people already and have missed people and how I only really saw one sparkle of the magic of megan's method on the last day filming because I was a bit isolated the entire time how much I LOVED (and usually love, specifically-) the makeup artists but how I really loved this one
How I sat window on the flight back when I usually sit aisle but how I looked down over the Pacific Northwest landscape at the perfect squares of irrigated farmland in green, brown, darker green, yellow brown, brighter green brighter grown and how I love this country and how I'm ready to keep living in it and how I'm almost finished with my book and how I sort of wish I could've taken a class this semester but how it's kind of neat that I don't have the time, how for once I have a bit of money in the bank and how quickly I know it'll disappear
And how I always count down as a plane lands, backwards from 10, til it hits the runway and how I time it perfectly and how my father taught me that once.

I lit my candle...

I cleaned... I talked to some friends; I moved my car and I paid the rent, I deposited some checks, I talked to my sweet sweet neighbors who watched Masha for a bit and they brought me a plate of food and one of them got called for a repair job but didn't have any gas money so he asked me and I went and got him 20 bucks and begged them to keep it...

I facebook friended my Russian friend Marina (well she's Russian and Svetlana's friend in the movie...and we bonded too on set we were the cat whisperers), and other people from Seattle too.

I talked to some friends, so maybe we'll work out tomorrow which I need bad and have some coffee and an old girlfriend I haven't seen in a while and we might go out tomorrow and I sent out some emails and I CLEANED, and I cleaned up some metaphysical messes and I even unpacked....

I talked to old friends that aren't here, that I haven't talked in a while, about life, art, integrity...

Didn't think I'd do that today, thought I'd just pass out... but now I can wake up tomorrow feeling a part of this world again...

before, the details of my emotional canvas were so rich.  from the lack of meds in me.  now ive numbed them.  i had beautiful things to write.  about perfect squares of irrigation from the plane.  my world is bigger than that.  i kissed my cat when i came home.  my unadulterated emotions, i cried, for 20 minutes, missing her so much.  but she's doing great.  i miss everything.  i enjoy everything so much more after its over.

dont you?

now im fucked  up and trying to nap

thats all i got baby

that and that and that

FOR NOW

yeah no merely on lunchbreak now.... what do we got? some ham and potatoes hmm.  I usually eat lunch in the trailer.  I dont want to be anti-social, but I am.  Ha.  No.  I just need a break from people all around, and thats when you can get it...... (I know, I know.  My usage of "you" instead of "I" is alwrong.)

I guess it'll be a long day too, though I know they've got plenty to do after my scenes too..... I should figure out my flight info now and check in and remember to print out the boarding pass at the hotel.  5 o clock already.  Damn.

weeeeyaaaa

It is hotter than hell out here right now and I left my phone at the hotel...... I do believe I am done for the day but I'm usually wrong when I think that....

why are we living in cubicles online

i spent just a moment the other day sitting on the riverbed, quiet, not talking, just quiet for hours

oh to feel peace again
to feel small and naive again
ready for anything, dying for love,
your body a chimney filled with odd, black smoke

these square, squat
awkward rooms
are like a paean to teenage-hood,
to ripeness,
to the first and last taste of youth

so constantly enclosed
with a prop ankle monitor on my left leg
and real CB radios informing each other of my whereabouts

now in an old trailer
now in a hotel
now in one car
and another
eyes closed, squeezed shut to trap in the alpha waves
the elaborate fantasies under construction

these houses are old
theyve been here forever
they look like theyd be fragile--
have broken by now,
but instead they're standing they've
weathered the storm

For what it's worth.

For what it's worth-- a short, distracted Requiem Mass
to a very dear friend of mine
who told fortunes and must have known his own
probably knew his own, date and time of death
whether it was because he divined it, or willed it, or both

I don't even know yet the cause
I don't want to say such a thing like a WILLED IT
I don't mean it in that way
I just found out in today Aberdeen, my phone rang during my pilgrimage to Nirvana

I just mean his glow receded like a shadow in reverse
Or a shadow shrinking from dawn to noon

I haven't processed this yet
I'm up in Seattle- my favorite city I think.
I'll still likely be driving to Redondo Beach to do my old run route
or look for the Chopard watch that got swallowed by its sands
and park on the street
and walk up to his apartment
and knock on the door
and ask if he wants to go to Green Temple
and talk about the 60s

Rest in Peace, you must've reached Nirvana too

XP-dia DOT COM

go cheap flights go cheap flights go................. i have one more week to go!!!!!!

Breakdown=Breakthrough

I just went over the script to look at my scene tomorrow morning, which is the most intense one. 

This is a sad movie we're making. 

And my character is the saddest one... She's had the saddest life; she has the saddest end.  The cruelest life and the cruelest end. 

Today was really brutal I was just tired and nauseous and I had a headache because I was in a smoke filled room with no air at all with a heavy (lovely) kitty on my lap in the same position on a hard bench for hours.  And I felt sort of abused too because I was so tired and oxygen deprived and I couldn't feel my leg and I didn't get a break and then I was told to wait around at the end of the day, because I had a close-up, though I didn't think I'd have a close-up to begin with, and they didn't even let me go to my trailer where I could lie down-- I could barely keep my eyes open-- and I had to sit on the hard chair in the smoke-filled room and then after an hour they said I was wrapped for the day.  Didn't have time for the close-up it would've taken them into overtime which is more money, and my close-up is not a high priority.  So, I hated everything, not individuals, but everyone, and I felt they were being mean at times, and I hated everything except the cat.  I loved that cat, both cats, in one scene I had this incredible kitten, 7 weeks old, and while everyone else's kittens were mewing and scratching the actors, mine was happy we were purring together.  And then I had another scene (in the same, smoke-filled, ventilation-free dingy room) that took place a year later so I had the older version of the cat, a chunky, beautiful, Persian tabby, and I loved the cat and the cat loved me and his wrangler was shocked at how much that cat loved me and how comfortable he was sitting on my lap, for hours, even as I moved him around into positions and did things for scenes and they said oh that cat's so cool and she said Well he has a great handler, and then she said to me, I wish you could keep him! (in the movie she meant, because in the movie, well, I die, and the main character takes my cat... that's the other actress who has allergies and whom he scratched I guess...)

And that's the thing in the movie, is, all the other characters get redemption, and mine doesn't, but she does... her cat survives... so, she lives through her cat, whom she loved.

And it was perfect, it was a perfect day to hate everything, it is perfect the way it all worked out, that they've made me so minor, such a sort of cliche, the mean, cold, Russian whore... and the director said she didn't want cliches, but they were cliches.  Until the cats.  Because I love cats so much, that obviously it showed that side of me.  That she does have a soft side.  That she does ultimately want a family; she doesn't trust people; they have all used her, so she shows no emotion and is hardened beyond repair.  But a cat.  A cat is pure good.  Something you can love, that will really and truly love you too...

And I reread the script to see what happened and now, now I'm suddenly connected to the project, to the character, I care, I think it will be good.

I feel so sad for Svetlana.  Reading it brought me to tears....

Breakdown-->Breakthrough.

Always, always. 

oh man i feel so bad so bad my heart hurts i cant breathe and i dont know why and it doesnt add up and its too many forces and i need air but im cold and im hot and i feel disappointed, and disappointing, and i feel underused and overpaid, and overworked and sold short, and grateful and thankless and i'm cold and i'm hot and i need it to stop but i dont know how and i cant do anything. i cant even move or stay still.


TURN IT ALL OFF, TURN IT ALL OFF PLEASE,
just for tonight cuz i know tomorrow i know tomorrow the angels may come

my chemicals are fucking up

thats all
BUT FUCK I FEEL LIKE IM BURNING

Oh-- WHEW.

Okay-- I'm over my little gripe fest... cuz WOW. 

I feel much better now.  Because I actually physically FEEL much better now, like, not dying, for the first time in three days... I think I had a weird little flu... I don't have any fever right now, and my body feels totally normal, and that makes for an all-over WAY better feeling. 

Not psychosomatica.  Somapsychotica.

Children are meant to be seen and not HERD:

ugh.  ugh.  ugh.  i can't help it.  i'm easily agitated.  illogic fucking agitates me.  unnecessary to-do fucking irritates me.  overcomplication grinds my gears.  being shuttled back and forth and OK walkie-talkie, KNOCK KNOCK, KNOCK KNOCK, every 5 minutes KNOCK KNOCK, when i say, really, but i don't think i'm in this shot... it's the reverse... Well, I dont know, so get prepped and head back down... I'M NOT IN THIS FUCKING SHOT.  IT'LL BE AN HOUR.  WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE ONE TIME.  EYELINE?? SERIO??  NOBODY'S EVEN LOOKING MY WAY IN THAT SHOT

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

but reason is immaterial when everyone is scuttling around, and the expectation that some thing will change or happen is unanimous, i get it, i do, but my stom feels POOR, and i haven't actually done any kind of acting, except for like one scene, in which i had to deliver my lines, to the reflection of 2 red x's in a mirror................. fucking eyeline my ass.

UGHHHHH

no no no no im not complaining but fuuuuuuckin A.

i used to be this- i used to do this- please just tell me where to go and what to say and what to wear yes and when to be there in fact dont even tell me when just pick my ass up and turn my head every time i need to look another direction- yes, this used to be my dream, it did, so, im not complaining, if it were still, id be living it- i am- i am living it in all possible ways--- but BOY i have changed.  i need to stick my nose in the kitchen.  i am not meant to just be directed.  i've gotten accustomed to my intellect and my brain being made use of-- like, for example, if somebody doesn't KNOW if i'm in a shot, and i say, I'm not, because it's the reverse of what we just shot, so I can't possibly, unless this is some, experimental, Danny Boyle/Terry Gilliam/Emir Kusturica post-party shot, it just doesn't make any fucking sense--- see, I'm accustomed to, if I have an answer to a question (a question that in this case involves my own personal ass's ability to breathe, especially), to that being, you know, a GOOD THING???  but no, see here, its like, theres so many cooks in the kitchen, and i get it, and i'm not one of them, and i get why it would just confuse the poor 2nd AD who's just running around trying not to get barked at, and really has no idea what's going on in the scene let alone how the shot is framed......................... so, its useless.  and i have to hustle on over there, just to stand there, for a while, before, i can finally raise the point, that im not in the goddamn shot, and be released.  only to be called back in, i dunno when, but during which time, an extra hour in my trailer could have been had, reading, or chilling, or blarfing into the toilet, or what have you.

FIN

Ever get the Weirds?

I dunno if anyone else here experiences times when they just feel a bit TRIPPED out?  Like ohhh colors and where am I and what am I doing and what do I do and look at all this stuff!!!!!!!! (And I don't mean as a result of taking some hippie drugs.. I just mean... waking up that way...)

Well that's been today and I realized, at least, I'm in a great place to be feeling that way.  I'm totally safe.  I'm in a hotel.  In SEATTLE, the least weird/bad city in the world, just the LEAST offensive city I've ever seen.  BEAUTIFUL, this damn place.  I'm here because I'm working.  I'm not responsible for anything.  I'm getting paid for this.  I'm coming back.  This is good.  This is all good.  This is all okay.  So schiz the hell out, me, have a little manic glaze, it's all gonna be a-ok.

i went walking today, and then to the nirvana museum... it was awesome.  i really love seattle, its such a beautiful welcoming city i dunno its just cool it feels right and natural and good...

but i feel sick, and i am..  i'm really like weak and achy and nauseous and shit.  i did a yoga cuz i really look like old marshmallows and its gross and im like 20 pounds heavier than i should be for this film and im gonna look disgusting on camera.  but im shooting tomorrow.  but anyway the yoga was hard... its never hard, i was so weak and couldnt balance..... i slept 13 hours last night and couldve kept going i dunno.

thats all.

i'm watching law and order SVU.  which is really a show about growing old.  its classic.  

im in scenes tomorrow and the call-time is early, but i dont have any lines.  i think thats the case the day after tomorrow as well... i dont understand how i have 6 more work days...

i did it....... wandered off to a bar in an alley under the fish market, on the water and tucked away somewhere... had to get the ants out of my pants... some ways are easier than others... scotch and soda and some naff conversation...... but the bar was great... i chatted, and read, looked off, walked off and around, listening to my own music on my ipod, and wondering what to do about those damned ants.

My skin is so hot, and I'm so cold, what's with me and fevers, what is it, what.

I was social today though- on accident, kay, but.  I ran into fellow actor at the elevator and ended up going to lunch with him and the lead and her manager... It was nice; it was a good place.. they wanted to go to Cheese Factory or whatever but I killed that and asked the guy at Nordstroms where should we go that's not a chain.  So it was good.  And her manager covered the bill, which was really good...

I finally figured out the internet issue, when a real live human with a real live intelligence picked up at tech support so that should be a breeze now....... I want to go do things but I have this fucking fever- I swear it's not psychosomatica- I was sweating after taking advil and I have a chill and feel warm to the touch...... Maybe I'll go to the space needle in spite of it though; its open til midnight, the deck.......... and see it's not misanthropy because misanthropy doesn't stop one from going places alone.  It's like, swollen lymph nodes... It's like I'm fucked up somehow but yet there is nothing wrong with me except the doctor has said that all the sedatives make my blood thin and that's why I get cold so much, and moreover, that I've just been running myself into the ground.  Duh, I guess.

I just feel like I caught a draft in my right hand, my right hand is really freezing cold, my fingers and I didn't bring my Glenn Gould gloves because I don't want to look like a fucking psycho here...but I feel antsy too I really want to do something and go into the night, I will, I'm  just gonna take some more advil and warm up for a bit.  But come hell or high water, I am leaving the hotel room tonight.

Don't try it in heels.

So the internet at my hotel's been wanky... apparently there was a gaming convention, hah, and all the geeks used up the IP addresses from the hotel's ISP.... well... I think they'll be gone by tomorrow.

So I'm in the lobby...

I woke up today, feeling slightly feverish and strange and walked out to get a coffee, or no, it wasn't that-- I needed a book.  I really need a book.  A good one.  I haven't read in ages.  And there's a lot of downtime on set... So I walked out, I dont know why, without showering, the hairspray and grime from last night's shoot still in my hair, looking like a mess... and ventured out... up and down the hills of seattle.. mission toward the library, which is a beautiful library, though I knew I wouldn't be able to check anything out... it was something to see... there was a steinway piano store on the way, which I'll grace tomorrow... and then I walked down to the puget sound harbour and looked at the water. 

I found a cool book store... and I bought "Super Sad Real Love Story" by Gary Shteyngart.  It's fucking great.  Also another random book that looked cool.. That's where I spend my money... I've mostly been stashing food from the kraft services, and I should be on a diet anyway... and yet now I feel like I have a bunch of money and I see all these stores and all these things I want... but the truth is, its not that much money... Well it might be, if it keeps coming, but if after this month I have another couple like I did June and July, I better not spend it all in one place. 

But it was beautiful, up and down and sunny... I really did have a fever though... I had to turn the A/C on when I got into my room and then froze a second later... so I've been resting... I've got all of tomorrow and Tuesday to explore too... then shoot the next 4 days, then another 2 off, then one more shoot, then fly back...

I kind of feel like I'm on vacation... at a hotel... around tourists... I've had flashes of memories of vacations I've been on, or work I've had to travel for, and the difference, the differences between those times and now... informed of the 'progress' I've made... in my career, in my standing in life, of my kind of meteoric and really gradual ascent into becoming a grownup....

I dunno... not much more I can say from a computer in the lobby. 

soooo....

so, here i am.  second day on set.  sat in my trailer.
this is lovely- i mean i'm being paid a ton (for me anyway); i got a care package in my hotel; everyone's really lovely... but... fuck, I'm bored.

a) i'm really not in very much of this.  i mean i don't have a lot of lines, or anything, i guess my character is significant, but i don't say or do very much, it feels like.  it feels like its mostly about how i look, and that i speak a certain language.

b) with every film, except the one i worked on with p, which was just an exception to every rule and a love-project, there is a SHIT TON of waiting around.... just simply waiting around.  waiting around in hair and makeup and wardrobe, waiting.

c) there's also a shit ton of mechanical just, shit.  like yesterday, literally, i think i walked back and forth from a door to a mirror about 40 times, over the course of two hours.  this is boring to me...

i'm a person who's never bored, ever, except for the times i am forced to wait around doing nothing, like when i've worked in restaurants that were dead, or on these shoots...

i guess i just realize, this isn't really what i do.

but i'm not complaining.  just exploring.  this is an experience, and also a period of forced relaxation... its just a long time, for that, and for what seems to be such a small role to be on a location for 2 weeks...  but, forced relaxation, forced break in routine, and some exploration........ more later.... also i was exhausted yesterday...

ok theyre pickin' me up in 3 hours.
i AM tired-ish.
i don't know what to feel i don't want to listen to sad music and yet i listened to all of Parachutes dancing to it in the mirror with the lights off, stringing along Masha's feather toy so she could get some exercise too.
i guess im just ready, ready as i'll ever be, an all-nighter would blow considering im seriously literally going from cab to airport to airplane to WARDROBE (no stop in the hotel) to shoot.

we'll see what happens.

houses

Okay, so now I'm leaving at six in the morning.  And I'm shooting my first scene tomorrow too... right from the airport, to the hotel to drop off my stuff and then to a wardrobe fitting, to hair and makeup, and to shoot...

I'm packed.  I did some yoga.  I worked on some lines.  The place is pretty damn clean; anything more would really be unnecessary.  It's just a long time. 

But it's not really that long.

And I really can't wait.

Because I will FORGET MYSELF and MY LIFE completely, walk around, alone and anonymous and inconspicuous and free... Walk into a bar and pick up a conversation with a stranger... and then leave when I want... never see them again... God the freedom that life, as wonderful as it is, is a construction, like a piece of music, you have... all these choices.. but each choice you make, eliminates all the other choices you could have made, and then the next step, and the next step, and so on, and so forth, and we end building these, these cages around us-- cages and-- and depending on the skill of the composer or the architect-- they can be beautiful, they can be palatial, they can be epic and huge and ever expanding they can be fucking universes I believe, I believe that I do, I believe we can build fucking UNIVERSES but-- but until we do, or if we do, or regardless of if we don't, we have walls, if we have anything.  If we have anything at all, we have walls.  If we have anything at all we can't have everything we can't have everything unless we have nothing but this, but we can build, and we can FIND, we can create these

little loopholes

little hidden tunnels out of our cages, short ones into smaller cages that will crumble BUT:

the walls appear to be gone

for a short time

that's why.  that's why i ever wanted to do this in the first place.  these movies and things.  get out of my life.  experience someone else.  be someone else and forget my walls, my walls, my waves

that way I can bring back, bring things back, bring material, bring ectoplasm bring a different want to build a beam, back to my own real waking dreamhouse

ohh, oh, oh

I had, a helluva day. 
And I haven't slept.
But I realize... I have another day... Before I leave... Silly cloudheaded stressed out manic me.  The 26th is a Friday.  Ha.  Can't write now.  Gonna write more later.

oh, score.

oh, score, score, score f.n. score.
i love the little tape recorder on the table.
i love the questions.
i love the GOOD questions.
i love the way journalists say so little.
i love the way some how that gets a person to talk.
i know others who employ that tactic.
self notwithstanding.

was just listening...

...i just had my iTunes on... Bullet Proof from the Bends came on... The meaning of the lyrics just sort of dawned on me.

I'm supposed to be at my thinnest and I'm just as fat as a house.  I'm not prepared.  My place isn't prepared.  My cat is so needy.  Everything's needy.  I guess ultimately I'll actually feel like I can relax for the first time once I'm there...

Oh no Mammie, why I'll just do my eating at the barbecue.

oh fuck this.

Starship Log:

Last night, show. Tomorrow morning, early- Vegas... gotta get my outfit and all together tonight... when I get back I only have 2 days before leaving again, real early in the morning, for about two weeks, to film.  I have to get my apartment together to be leaving find somewhere to park the car pack for two weeks prepare for the film (as in not eat anything from now til we start shooting and watch nothing but russian movies...) which I cant do cuz i have only 2 days, ah, you know.. this is all good stuff..

And I'm HOLDING IT TOGETHER.  So there.

i'm so tired.  c'est tout. 

Da-dum ta-da to-do

Seems with all the insanity going on right now I need to just get in as much DOING NOTHING as I possibly can.  Sleeping 12 hours a day, eyelids heavy, watching episodes of Project Runway on the computer....... that's what I'm doing every possible second I can.

Disclaimer No. 1039480285

PLEASE, PLEASE, let me reiterate, please:

DON'T read this blog to check up on my life; don't read it if you're going to be offended; don't read it if you're a part of my day-to-day life and you think you'll find some secret sentiments in here.  It's not all real; it's hyperbole; it's metaphor; it's innuendo.

It's just impressions of thoughts that I have at the moment and from moment-to-moment I'm a moody bitch.  I can't shout these feelings out and I can't show them in public and this is just an outlet and it has to be interesting.

Please.  Just please.  I lose all my freedom if I self-censor and write not to offend.  Don't take it to heart.  Don't read it if you will.  Ask me if you want to know.

Signed.
CvD

Just to clarify- to my readers and myself- it wasn't really bad.  I mean all said and done nothing embarrassing happened and Andrea called me last night to say thank you for coming, and Daniella (the one who got sloshed) posted all the smiling pictures on facebook and of course all the groom's friends added me and wrote nice messages and everything's fine.

(It was brutal and I'm beginning the process of repressing most of it right now.)

(A message I particularly appreciate: "...How great was that wedding?! I wanted to shoot you over an email and say it was a pleasure meeting you and although there wasn't an appropriate time to tell you, I think you are truly beautiful." I said thanks for the compliment and thanks even more for possessing the tact not to give it to me on the day of the goddamn wedding.  Well I didn't word it like that; I really DO appreciate it.)

I can't believe I only have like three days before out-of-state show and only like a week before two-week out-of-state shoot.

I missed my kitty cat.  I'm worried about money.  There's never enough money.  I'm tired and I need some shhhh time.  I don't know.

Flying out in T-1200 h...

I did it.

I did everything.  My to-do list is clean, except for the more bigger picture stuff that's fun and interesting anyway.  I'm packed, and I just finished cleaning; I went boardover as usual, the place is spotless.  I guess it's partly for the neighbors coming in and watching Mashkat--out of respect for them, to make it more pleasant; to make myself respectable, and to keep private and precious things tucked away... To know it'll be nice to come back to.  To make it easier, when I have to do it again in two weeks. 

I'm feeling boozy and woozy and very mortal... I used to globetrot without a second thought and now when I have to leave it feels like, it feels like the end of the world.

(That is because I live alone.)

I was overcome with emotion earlier, but now I've numbed myself, with nectar, with the mild sedatives my next door neighbor slid under the door.  That's the neighbor that's watching my Mashkat.  That's a good neighbor.

Now that I'm packed.  Now that my boarding pass is printed.  Now that the loose ends have been tied.  Now I feel more at peace and I feel less at odds and I feel even and I know that this will be so good for me, get me away from myself, my work, my drive, this planet I live on.  To see old friends doing normal people stuff, celebrating love and life and a sort of simplicity and yes a sort of richness that I-- maybe, am, lacking.  A sort of wholeness a union.  To be somewhere where all that glitters has nothing to do with me, where the spotlight and the sunlight will be gleaming off my lovely friend's hair, off her gown, off the wine glasses and the flowers and old church stone.

There's always music pumping my head and I've been writing and I was afraid of four days with a piano but.

It's just four days.

It's not the end of the world.  And it's the beginning of a world.  Not mine.  Gratefully, graciously, humbly, not mine. 

My hair's so dry

It's parched, I'm parched, my skin is parched, the last thing I needed was to get burned by the sun---

I'm worried about my cat, I can't help it, she's a little slice of heaven and she doesn't like to be alone, and if I'm not here I can't crack open the door to make sure the cross-breeze keeps this place cool...

I have to pay my SAG dues somehow I don't have the money...

I honestly wish I could close my eyes and wake up and have this trip all be over...

I don't want to get on a plane...

I don't want to leave here...

I'm scared.

OFF

This trip is stressing me out a little...
I had to just tune out the whole world for a few days...
And now I have to go...
Thursday....
Still it all feels like too much....

I feel underweather.
And I never have any time...
Need some sleep...
Money...
And to get through the next month...

take a deeeeeep breath.  forget the rest.  remember to refresh.  that patience is a virtue.  and time is passing.  time is always passing.  it's already wednesday.  it's already august.  it's already 8 30.  it's already time. 

Who is Chloe?

I just took a shower that felt like a baptism.

I washed off all the sweat, from zumba, and a 3 mile walk home, and the soot of the Hollywood air, and the makeup, and found myself to be.. a pretty damn ordinary person.

With ordinary relationships, and lots of friends, with whom levels of intimacy, and frequency of contact change, change with age, with proximity, as we grow up and dart around the globe... Still we all keep in touch... I know tons of people, and there's hardly anyone I can think of, that I wouldn't be happy to see, that wouldn't be happy to see me too...

I have a cat I spoil and love to death...

I go to the gym with friends... I take some college classes... I live in a studio apartment..

I have a shitty car--- I have--- ordinary problems: bills all the time, car repair, things breaking, falling apart, computers- getting viruses, losing a phone, forgetting to do something-- missing appointments...

Missing people, things breaking and falling apart. 

Getting enough sleep- getting colds or viruses...

Forgetting to pack something.

Forgetting to say something, that I wanted to say... Missing people... forgetting the words...

Pay to Play

sloppy. very sloppy, is all i have to say. 260?

how about we make a deal?

i'll knock it down to 200. if you play with me. you are MY client. how's that. and i still pay you 200. +10%. and free drink tickets. 6 free drinks. 6 MANDATORY drink items.

Hmmm...

I'm confused again.

Stop.

I think I need to stop ALL this right now and just like, read a book or something, tonight. I think you should ALL do the same.

Dura

Ya dura

because i want to cry, and i dont know why. i dont have any money, which stresses me out immensely. mostly i want to cry because i want to cry.

i was happy. 2 weeks ago. the day after my friend got here. that saturday. we slept late, woke up, laid around, smoked, talked, got dressed, did our nails, drank some wine, listened to my record, and to Transference... she talked about her school... i talked about my music... c booked a great show... i got all these crazy amazing comments from fans, and she was here, and we were dancing, and she laid back on my bed, and she said, I feel happy now. I don't think I've felt happy, in years.

And I was dancing to Transference and I said, I do too...

And she said, You do?

And I said, Yeah, I do. It's surreal.

And then we went into the night, dressed up, traipsing down the alleys to her rented convertible, and the moon was full. We realized we were broker than we've ever been, but we were like a million bucks... we blasted the music... we looked at each other... she said, Remember this moment. Remember this is what it's about. Walking to my retarded little car.

And we drove to the restaurant. And the streets were glowing.

Well it's nothing terribly interesting but I've watched a whole season of Project Runway online in the past week... And I just got out of bed today. I'm beat.

I called the Health Insurance.

I called the Residuals Dept.

I know it's after 5 on Friday and they probably wouldn't be open but that's when I remembered to do it and at least I left a message and got the ball rolling.

Fack.

Over myself and vagueries.

Oh man... Thanks for the comments guys and the inspiration and the fact that I realize I really need, I really miss this, and I really miss you!!!

It's been hard, with this blog, writing anything clear, anything direct, anything true, because, well it's public. I know people read it. I don't know who, or how often, or when, but there's always a chance, that, for example..

That last post, I didn't write it as a plea or a statement to my friend. I highly doubt she'll read it. I guess it's okay if she does. But... meh... nah. No good. That wasn't the point.

I've been writing rarely.

I've been writing in code.

I really have been busy doing all this stuff, and that's part of it. But you know what. F it. I'm gonna write what I want on here. What's the goddamn point otherwise?

Now that I'm writing... though of course, I don't have time. And I have to get ready. But maybe this is more important right now.

I get tired of incessant joking. I love jokes. I love to laugh. My favorite people are hilarious, and only my favorite people find me funny too. But constant injokes and jokes and rejokes and metajokes seem like a cop-out sometimes. We don't always have to joke. We don't always need and icebreaker.

There is no ice.

It's warm in here right now.

Can't we touch instead of breaking.

Personality

Thanks for the comments guys :-)
Yes... These posts... the raison d'etre of blogs or logs or whatnot, to really sit back and process and express... I dunno... haven't done that in a long time... it feels good... and you're right, it does make for better reading...

And writing in the morning. Something about that.

Now, off to play another gig.

XO

Blink.

What a strange day it was.

Now it's morning. I haven't been able to sleep, so, I figure, I'll just stay up and get started on the requisite major cleaning, since I'd have to be up in a couple anyway, to go to the airport, to follow my best friend as she returns her car, after this intense wonderful 2 week visit, and then go wait by the airport for 3 hours, until her flight, and then come back... I've been really beginning to get socially exhausted, needing my alone time, it's been great, but I've felt very sad and antsy at points because I haven't been alone and-- I need to be alone, and-- she does give her share of digs... picks at me...

Sigh. I'm just drained and feeling pulled from all directions constantly, but, really I just wish, she'd give me some fucking credit. And say once, Hey, I trust your judgment. Hey. You're there for me any hour of night and day, you invite me here no matter what's going on, you've never held a grudge, even though I've tried to make you-- and furthermore, since I met you, when you were 19 years old, you have grown, incredibly wise, and calm, practical, and kind, and yet still passionate, and fuck's sake, you have manifested everything and more than you've wanted... and deal with life with a fucking grace that I admire.

I wish she'd say that. Yeah. I just wish she'd say that.

She doesn't have to. She says how much she loves me. That I'm her only friend. I know she respects me and my talent and my opinion and that we are on a very special wavelength. So it's fine. But she's just never willing to say, I don't know. She always has to throw in a doubt or a criticism, somehow try to make me wrong or the bad guy... Tell me I'm this or that, or whatever. I've gotten better at dealing with this. I just shrug and throw a look, walk out of the room for a sec, come back and say, Hey where's your camera I wanna show you this reverse trick.

Fire's out.

Ahhh. She's a seer she sees things she sees the bigger picture. But she is still trapped a bit, emotionally, personally, by things like guilt- guilt mostly. Maybe regret sometimes. Yes. Fuck those things. I don't understand them.

She sees the bigger picture. But I see... I don't see a picture... I don't see any frame... I see no frames and frames everywhere... I see multiple dimensions and yet essence. Essence. One dimension. I see that everything is the same, really. And everything is different. I don't know. I feel in string theory... Mathematics and magic and music and endless shades of gray and yet BLACK and WHITE sometimes. Clear cut. So subjective. So circumstantial. I have a code I live by. I am open to changing every day. I flood you with positivity. You make fun of it. I'm not hokey. But you make fun. But you leave here, glowing.

It's fine.

I love you.

There is someone in my life whom I love who respects and appreciates these things unabashedly. I thank God for this person.



So she is reading a book called Blink.

Malcom Gladwell corporate pop psychology shit.

I didn't say that, obviously, when she told me the book.

Blink.

You know within 5 seconds. Like I said-- everybody senses, people are like animals, it's an instinct, the power of the other. Well I don't know if Gladwell says anything like that.. hahaha.. maybe a stretch. But. I have. Always, within 5 seconds, of course...

Pop psychology irritates. It has nothing to do with psychotherapy. A real conversation with a person who... takes your worldview, smacks you upside the head with it, and makes you think... you think because you care... about this other human...

Two people in my life have taken my worldview and smacked upside the head with it. Philosophers. I don't see either one of them much anymore.

cloVer.

I know nobody's reading this
let alone gonna come see
But wish me luck hey
Really need it this time this time
God knows I do

Living with--

I haven't had a chance to sit down one time in the last week.

I mean just you know, parked my ass down in front of the computer without doing work or some errand (errands, bttww, obviously, really kick my ass. they freak me out. they anger and infuriate me. they make me retarded. as witnessed by my friend now. i really freak out when i have to do them) or talking to anyone.

I'm doing so right now. But I only have like 20 minutes. I am not talking anymore today though. Deal with it. My voice is shot. And I have a performance tomorrow. I have to rest it.

Ahhhhhh!!!

too much
talk of the past
nostalgia
and this and that
too much talk
i lost my voice
i lost myself
what if i cant sing when the lights go down

Refresh.

:-) star light i kiss the ground
star bright so lost and found
next time we meet i'll stare you down
you'll never beat this fever now

you'll never beat this fever now

A Meditation.

Forget meditation. My mind jumps around everywhere.

But when I purr my cat, it is completely empty and my heart swells with love.

This is not some dirty innuendo. I mean, literally, when my cat Masha, lays down on my chest, or when I come down to the ground and she rest her head down on my arm and I purr her for 10 solid minutes I think of nothing, but feel soft she is and hear the sound of her purring and see how beautiful she is and smell her lovely baby cat smell blended with my perfume from when i purr her and just am filled with light and love and then she stretches and purrs and curls and then uncurls and then bats at me to be like "enough."

That's a meditation.

My best friend is staying with me right now for a couple weeks; she's a veterinarian. I can't imagine what kind of karma she's been accruing. Nirvana next time 'round.

Thaaaaank you

my starlight
good going at the lounge
lots and lots of people appreciating

its asking starlight for starlight
humbly and in spite of the probability of its nonresponse

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Old Dayz

To those of you who remember the Old Days-- wish me luck tonight :-)

commandment.

hey you, yeah you with ROCKSTAR! you'll start listening one day soon. you'll have to. you'll have to pay attention.

In the mean time, I have to supplement my shaky mood with pharmaceutical drugs to keep afloat. And practice practice practice desire and work some more!

on solitude--

i know thats probably the name of a thoreau essay, or something, probably a million other essays too.

well this isnt one of those.

sometimes i just need to shut the shit down.

sometimes i just really need to be alone. not doing errands. just playing around. not with anyone either, not with anyone i know...

thats when my imagination goes... goes free... fires up... thats when i can forget myself entirely, forget who i am, my life and my triumphs and my troubles and abandon my fiery EGO...

it drives me crazy and agitated and exhausted. and then, i take the time to shut the shit down. without a clock. without the phone. and then my mood just lifts, poof, magic.

i cant live in constant "reality." because it's not fucking real, anyway. its one lens. and its highly absorbent. maximum absorbency selfpads.

thats why, thats why, thats why. i cant live any other way. i have to lose myself.

Proverbs: 7:8:11

I aint dense
I be gettin' it--

Work begets Work.

Impersonality begets impersonality.

Obsession is an old Perfume.

And Curiosity killed the Cat.

....But satisfaction brought him back.

my cat

just adores sitting in the of dirt i make when i sweep.

its mostly her own furshed, thats probably why.

almost 2 am

1 50

my heart just pounds

wheres the fckng invoice already

i see it there but i dont see a dollar amount

i just broke everything glass that i own

i slammed it against the floor

cleaning it up o god of thunder o god of shattered glass

it feels grains of sand picking it up with your hands

it feels being at the ocean

push me and push me until i just keel over and die

after i pushed you, leaden, still as a totem pole

for so fucking long

i dont have any money anyway

not a penny

come repo my car




this is ridiculous and must be discussed over the phone

omgaaaaaaaaaaah

Lalalala this bitch so tired. constant work. workahaul.

im not complaining

i chose this

i love it

but foof im tayred

hey hey

dis moi un mot, "bonne courage" ou quelque chose, eh?

Just go read about Patience.

Time, time, there's never any time
I guess with these new wins I got upgraded
this role:

M------ D------:26/28, blonde, beautiful, sexy, graceful and stylish, "Bardot meets Deneuve." M------ is an artist plugged into a sexy Paris avant garde. She is also one of the top assassins in Europe - cold, efficient and deadly - working under the codename 'Noir'. M------- is a survivor of WWII, a woman who experienced horrors and traumas that forged her into 'N---'. She embraces life and lives it to the full, but always on her own terms. Deep down M------- is all about control - of her environment, people and herself. She can make you feel like the only person in a crowded room, and then, when you are, kill you without compunction. SERIES REGULAR (1) (In addition to French actors, we will consider Scandinavian, German, Italian, Eastern European actors for this role who are both fluent in English and their native language as well as Americans who are fluent in French, German, Italian, Russian, etc.) Nudity required


I got this on thursday and thought i had plenty of time but i slept through the entire weekend and now its tomorrow morning and i havent even looked at it and theres a ton. just a ton. a ton of fucking dense material. and im jiggly cuz i havent moved in 3 days and just eaten a ton. fuck.

mannnnnnnnnn oh manny

sleeping all day for 3 days leaves you in an unenviable state when you wake up, with the pile of shit you havent done that you have to do that you thought you had more than plenty enough time to get around to

men.

2 dudes in a row just stopped me at the starbucks one to say "you look amazing" and another, from his car "you are incredibly goodlooking... have a pleasure celebrating the 4th..."

??

i look HEINOUS

i have 2 distinct zits

my hair is a gnatty mess

i just slept for like 72 hours in the heat without showering

im in like a baby's onesie

i have no makeup on

ugh its probably just cuz my fat is jiggling

men.

un petit peu du CUPCAKE

yes but its not half bad

i got my bridesmaids dress via fedex wed and just tried it on
its, got an odd amount of material and some strange like, girdle type situation underneath, but, the colors damn good and, its actually KIND of sexy
mostly because the color is very close to my skin color and it looks nude
hahahahaha
and, theyre strapless
and, most who know me know i have a soft spot in my heart for SHORTS, short skirts and dresses, and in this case, i have not only been permitted but basically ordered to take up the hem.... (otherwise believe me, i cant be fucked to go get something tailored. i mean, i cant even be fucked to go be fucked, these days).... so, take it up the maximum allowed 2" I shall, in spite of the fact that due to my proportions it already sits definitively above the knee.
i mean, i just dont half ass things. and that thing, could be kind of hot.

THANK YOU FOR THE GOOD JUJU OUT THERE!

Ohhhh that was heaven...
Oh that was just so night and day....
The venue was beautiful, the crowd was amazing, the keyboard we rented sounded incredible, the sound guy was tops, the audience was respectful and just, no talking, watched, enjoyed, loved, every song, pauses before applauses and then long, long applauses, and it just felt so good.

i felt elated after- not like i wanted to slit my wrists.

which honestly. every preceding show. has been deplorable. just awful. offal.

granted the crowd was 75% strangers (which is better anyway) and only like 12 of our people... the friends of mine who've come to shows and those who haven't, at this point, i dunno, sort of paints a pretty clear picture... god this town is drinking haterade. but the ones who come at this point really just do for the music. with some perspective i realize i dont want people there anyway who are just doing it as a favor (thus expecting one in return), who dont want to be there, who dont like the music even. fuck them. seriously.

these people, this audience, like, they LAUGHED at some of the lyrics, that are really subtly funny... like... THEY WERE LISTENING. and it was so shocking. hah! ah, classy place. all the difference. anyway.