Wednesday, June 30, 2010


i need to make JJ a CD for his bday which I suspect is now... i see him in 2 hours... have to hurry with the playlist... learning to play the Cure's "Love Song" maybe for my show but I think I'm already at 40 min as it is...

Dernier Soir

Last night Ceci's party was a tremendous success.

Beautiful apartment with a beautiful view and beautiful C, all the guests were C types, the cook the thief the wife and his lover... Chef J who she's been telling me about forever I finally met, he made the dinner and it was all kinds of incredible, I mean he went all out with like 8 huge pots of stewed amazing, there were gnarly margaritas I pretended to drink, Chef's boyfriend Alonzo, another girl who I vaguely remembered from the ballet company with C, and this girl who came in and spoke French and knew all these people I used to work with when I was in the old band cuz we had this minor hit there.... She told me she just bought a stage piano keyboard (kurzweiler=drool city) and she cant play, but its always been a dream of hers too, so I said I'd give her lessons and told her about my show...

We were sitting outside on C's amazing patio with the view drinking the wine she brought (thank god cuz I couldnt, with those margaritas, man) when I noticed this just STUNNING, I mean fucking dropdead 11 out of 10 girl looking at me inside so we went over and she and her friend were French too... so the French contingent hung there at the table in the corner and I was talking to the girl and she looked so familiar and finally I realized she's R.O. this actress that I f'in SWEAT, whose first big movie I saw with JayGray years ago when we were dating, and was like holy demon balls that girl is fucking SOMETHING... and we hit it off like BAM and she's kind of standoffish seeming and kind of a ballbuster but I like my balls busted, she kept correcting my French, like every grammatical error, it was so cute, I was like R youre gonna wear yourself out, she's like no you're like 90% i'm just making it 100, if you were any lower I wouldnt bother, so we were really getting along and she was just trained on me all night, and me on her, obviously (but not a Sappho) situation, so we all exchanged info and Naima the one with the Kurz invited me over to see her place and hang and mess around on the Kurz and she's gonna let me use it on Friday night AND theyre all coming

So I'm stoked right now.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

this new layout...

does this new layout look like ass?

i think it might... opinions?

Swank Clubs, Bad Crowds, Solo Performance, Sold Out

I have a show at a venue this Friday that can only be aptly described as "mad swank, yo."

Because it is. Mad swank. Yo.

But, ughhh, wrong crowd again? You know I think my music here in Lost Angels is like, USUALLY, falling on deaf ears. The old menz come to every performance and sit in the front and say things like, yeah, baby, and laugh at my little ironic musical nods to times gone by-- the only real IRONY I use musically, because god save the QUEEN is the scene just buttsore with irony these days, dizzie gillespie-glasses-wearin' hipsters, privileged and in $2000 worth of kit to look like they rolled out of the dumpster, had it so damn good they eschew even healthy REBELLION- the disdain of yesteryear, and appreciate everything, LIKE IT-- because they can play six degrees of masturbation by naming that white rapper on Def Juxx's sound engineer whose hi-hat hit influenced the chorus, and all kindsa other esoterica, or just appreciate it IRONICALLY. Derisive sneermugged at all times.

Anyway. I dunno. I'm not totally NOT one of those people. I mean I'm not. But, not totally not. But I'm not into fey twee meaningless girlboy singers, whose every note is some kind of ironic homage. And. I dunno. The one comment I get most often (besides you sound like Regina Spektor, who, luckily, doesn't sound like Regina Spektor anymore, but I only get this comment anyway because I'm a girl, who plays a piano, and is kinda classically trained, and sings), is that my stuff sounds honest. It is honest. I don't do irony, it gives me the screamin' meemies to tell you the truth, I mean personally, I'm just not comfortable with it.

But. I love the West Coast music scene, way more, but, I dunno, I get booked at these CLUBS where the guy from S.Dak in the straw hat and Inspector Clousseau 'stache is nowhere to be found. I WANT that guy there... cuz like, I'm an Appalachian hayseed myself, let's be real, and at these places they have me play it's like, Hellay Posers who listen to-- I dunno what tf they listen to... but it's not the Pixies or Andrew Bird or Regina or even the Silversun Pickups and it's damn-sure not the Cranberries (which is my second most common comparison) and I see them there and I'm just like, Ugh. Ok. Lets just get through this So'D.

But for the love of Allah I am NICHT bringing my kangaroo dink keyboard again. Last time I heard it through the monitor it made my ears bleed. I'm gonna rent something. I'm gonna rent a f'n Korg. Yeah.

i find this terribly funny....

Monday, June 28, 2010


what's more interesting.

psychic powers? i had a bunch of that going on this weekend. at the parties with the unfathomable tax-bracket contingent. bent down to the floor to pick up glass that shattered right AFTER i was down there. called kim's son by his name before they told me it. later talking to her said wow, thats gotta suck having to move out of your house for 6 months after you just got back there. she was like, yeah, its an interesting life, we're adjusting with D's work. paul was like oh you're filming now? and i realized he hadn't told me that so i didn't know how i knew. sunday we ran into his friend i'd met and i asked him Oh how did Monica's show go? and he was like Oh it was great and paul was like How did you know she had a show? and I was just like, oh, he mentioned it the other week... and Paul was like jesus you have a good memory.

He ran into his psychic (" ") saturday and I just made a joke like, pshh I'm more psychic than all the psychics. and he just goes for condescension- You're more psychic than all the psychics? Hehe, yeah yep. So, what's going to happen to me? And I said, sincerely thinking about it, I don't see the future, I see the present... So he makes another jokey joke- so what's happening to me now? Am I... going to a party tonight? And I said, Yes!


But no. Maybe, for you atheists (and Christians, k :-) ) I can accept that maybe I had just heard these things, overheard, and not realized... It's totally plausible. And as for the glass breaking, maybe, I dunno, I thought I just saw glass on the ground... It doesn't matter.

But Paul is sick of people laughing at my jokes so much. And doesn't like me talking so much. When I'm alone with him, I know to talk nonsense, I know to keep my mouth shut when he says things that make my blood boil. Because, that's how you act with men, that you don't really love, that are taking you out and about. But when I'm around other people, more kindred spirits, I want to connect... I want to have fun... He brings me to these things, dresses me up in his personal richbitch haute hippie understated style (which I can appreciate but get really sick of his stupid compliments, as if I haven't fucking heard it, as if I can't see right through the fact that he wants me to look moneyed so that I don't look like a gold-digger), and wants people to like me and think he has a catch, this funny, confident, knowledgeable chick, right? But, oh, not TOO much. Not to OUTSHINE.

These fucking games.

And psychic? Maybe not. But I can see. I can see people's colors. And I can see through him.

And I'm exhausted.

when harry met sally

i REALLY love that movie.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

julian julian julian

Okay. I'm finally home.

It wasn't bad. I went boogie-boarding in the ocean and got an hour and a half massage by this amazing guy who came to the house. And clothes.

Paul seemed I dunno kinda bitter or something. He's just not someone I connect to. There's just some blockage there aside from all the other things.


My cat was so happy to see me.

I got her some new litter, her food, we purred for a bit... I need to see Julian. I'm not going to talk about this ongoing semi-repetitive and escalating but possibly dead-end road ad infinitum... I just need to see him. I don't know what he wants from me. I want everything for him, even just to talk to him as a friend if that's how it is. I'm not going to say anymore about this. He teased the dickens out of me on Friday. Well, I'll say... Cuz. Fuck it. This is scarletonthecouch after all....

When I saw him on Tuesday he was weird, because, I hadn't written him at all. I had decided I was just being ridiculous the whole time, in spite of everything. And I didn't write him. And he canceled, and ignored my emails that were totally legit scheduling questions, which is just unprofessional, until I finally sent him one being like, Ok, what is this nonsense. What if I were having a nervous breakdown right now.

And apparently he called me and told me 6 pm had opened up Monday and I could just come in if I wanted but I didn't get his message... So when I came in Tuesday, secretary-scheduled, he was all cold.... And at some point in the conversation he said, "So... you haven't been writing... At least, not to me..."

And I said, "No."

And he said, "Why."

And I shrugged.

And he said, "That looked like a shrug that was hiding an answer..."

And I said, "You know, I'm just like, the pleasure of writing, each punch of the key is accompanied by a punch to the face. Cuz what am I DOING."

And he said... "Are you being kind to yourself? Punching yourself in the face."

So we got on that topic.

So I wrote him. I wrote him, romantic, intellectual, daydream, comedy, love sonnets, quizzes, I wrote him constantly. So when I write him these romantic things... Usually... He's a little more, flirty, dominant, teasy, cocky... when I see him.

So Friday was another full-on tproomsex-day, stare-stare seduce, not just me getting sorta.... bothered... he was too... shifting himself, hand on his thigh and leg crossed over it, moving his chair a bunch of times and sort of laying on it... standing up and sitting next to me, for a second, (now he's done this a couple times), getting up and lingering so we're standing close, at the end of the session, instead of him going straight for the door... he'll kinda stand up, stand over me on the couch as I put my shoes back on (I always take them off) and when I get up, we'll stand there, and tease each other about something, and all this followed by the enormous Julianistic tease of:

Ok... I have a proposition for you, Scarlet...


Why don't you...


Take your letter. And walk outside. And take it to the mailbox yourself.

(referring to this insurance letter thing) that's my julian update. that's what I got. I know it's his birthday sometime around now. I wrote him this funny letter. about if he goes to some family themed restaurant, please dont let the migrant laborer underpaid el salvadorian busboys, and his musical theatre trained waiter stand around atonally screaming happy birthday. cuz those guys make like a buck fifteen an hour. hah.

short update

short posts cuz i only got time when he's takin the dog out for a pee and im being surreptitious, on Private Browsing

felt sour earlier... he wouldnt even buy me sunglasses... kept talking about his client M---- huge superstar involved in scandal with lady of my ethnic background and musician whose music is very similar to mine about how she sucked and was a whore and wants his money, and kept saying how women blablabla and he wouldnt wanna just buy them stuff.... implied he wouldnt be me a cheapass 12 dollar pair of sunglasses and he's a zillionaire who doesnt work.

i, not even totally deliberately, started acting real glum.

so then he bought me $200 swimwear.


and now we're going to the ocean.

feeling a little better.

be home later.


rough waves splashing

So here I am, woken up, a bit disoriented and surprised, in this gorgeous incredible little chateau, to the sound of rough waves splashing and the gray mist that covers it all in Southern California til the rays of the sun burn it off around 11, leaving a sparkle instead of the gray gray that I've always loved and associated with seas.

My old Russian strip-club trick of getting myself too crunked to move worked like a charm, and I all I had to do was cuddle a bit before passing right out in the comfortable bed. Haha.

Paul was still sleeping when I woke up at 8, and got up and looked around. Not unhappy to be where I am. Now he's up and has taken his dog, Lenny Bruce for a walk. And here I am, blogging on this superfast computer with three sides of floor to ceiling windows making me feel like I'm blogging atop the stormy high tide waves of Malibu.

Last night was nice. All the music industry below-the-line famous folks are very, very nice. I didn't drink at all. W---A--- wasn't there, nor Elliot, so it was a little dull at times. But very nice. Everyone was very, very nice. This could be all right, this Coco Before Chanel thing.

Paul has W.A's book right here and I wanna crack it open and read it, but he was talking about him last night to friends, what they're working on together and how they met and all that, and I said one thing about him being a great writer and he gave me a LOOK. So I shut it for the rest of the conversation and now don't think I ought to be peeping his book right here. Oh well. There are other books I can grab as I crawl back into the bed.

Pretty morning, all in all.

just checking in

cuz i need you guys... here now post party... not fucked up... found some sleeping pills. just took one. so i can fall asleep and not deal with this. hahahaha. miss you all too. xoxoxo

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Sorry. I'm not dead... I don't know where I was this past week... It feels like longer than it's been.

I had a weird thing with J again, but, I dunno I had my show on Tuesday and I got myself rocked on Vicodin and kind of remained that way until this morning.

Now I'm at Paul's house and I want to cry, I just, I don't like him, I don't like the way he talks to me, it's not rude or mean it's just like I don't know I feel like a courtesan, that's kind of what I'm being but it pisses me off there's only so much I can close my eyes and think about JJ when he feels nothing like JJ and I'm just up here in these new clothes and we're about to go to a party and I feel like the world is wobbling.

I'm definitely going to write more later. And read. I have to catch up with myself.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Gogol Bordello is just OFF the fucking chain. OFF tf CHAIN.

So amazing, I'm gonna make this next post a veritable Amazing linking sales crap... Was there a special feature little add-on, mooooore, obnoxious, time-consuming, supposedly "convenient," and really just a convenient way to rid yourself of a hard day's night's earnings... I mean I get the whole Instant thing, watch/download, that's pretty amazing to me... but to order something browsing around online is a just a goddamn waste of time; you have to wait even longer than if you went to the store, or, gottverbot, the LIBRARY... Urgh. It's just too much. Too much SHIT.

seems to be a real reader favorite though, a wee blurb about some shit you should buy, and a damn sure route to being published. Quelle surprise. Hey kids, ya wanna grow up to be a writer?? Wait...reallY Well gee, I wasn't prepared for any Yesses today! But I'll tell ya what, learn to make an html, no, fuck that, even simpler, just click your stubby thumbs on the bottom neon blue and roar-range colored that says 'Facebook' (and don't forget to click 'Okay' thrice more throughout the process, without ever knowing what exactly it is-- those bare-ass executable, so ugly, completely gray with that minuscule Helvetica-clone font, who's a-read shit? Take another Trojan up the butt when you get out there to pay off all that monster debt.

I'm irritable which is always a bad time to write cuz I'm just like, ugh, ugh, ugh, to quote the ever quotable WChurchill, "history is just one damn thing after another," one irritating thing after another...

but just to instill some kind of good discipline. and documentation. when I'm in a slightly better headspace, after some sleep, hopefully tomorrow, i will discuss the Gogol Bordello show monday night, MY show at kgb tuesday night, cam's really ultimately being a no-can-do situation, slammed it with for julian again, really bad... really bizarre dreams i've been having

Monday, June 21, 2010


going to gogol bordello show tonight. it will be awesome. i felt like dying today all day, but, what the fuck.

this show will be awesome.

i just need to stop crashing every few hours, after a run, after seeing a friend, after everything i do, i crash and wanna die. but then i do something and i'm focused and totally fine.

i found out i got a B in one of my classes. not that that's bad, but i'd gotten an A on all the tests and quizzes to the best of my knowledge.... thought maybe it was the final... wrote the teacher and he said i got an A on that too. it was just attendance and homework assignments.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Hello, you've reached the confidential voicemail of Julian Darcy. To leave...

Vinnie called me just now, and I didn't answer... it would make sense to go to work tonight since I can't tomorrow or the following, but, I'm so tired, and I have my show coming up and I should practice, and rest a little.

I went thrift shopping with Em today. SCORED. Like, whole new wardrobe for $50. And 2 pairs of rad shoes. Unbelievable. It's partly, I kinda knew what I wanted going in there. You need to, in a gigantic Good Will...

Um, I feel really sad, and confused. J canceled Friday, and I said I maybe couldn't Tuesday, and he said he maybe could Monday, but never followed up, and now it's Sunday night, and like, I haven't written him at all, like I usually do, but I have about that, to ask about the appointment. And he hasn't answered. And now it's tomorrow, and I don't even know... I guess it's Father's Day. And he's... out of town or something?

Who knows.

But he should be responding to his patients. About appointments. Especially when he requires a 72 hour cancellation notice.

And. This makes me really sad. And I still really care.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

on-set whine.

i just feel so fat and ugly and disgusting and broke and stupid and sad right now.... i still havent gotten any of my refunds..... im sure i WILL... but its concerning. im confused, and i dont know whyl im disconnected... i have this show on tuesday and i am NOT ready i havent practiced at all nor do i want to tell people, but i have to, to get paid.... i dont even have a good instrument... and have not been able to sing w what my self consciousness about these complaining new neighbors, and the months of busy and lazy and depressed and w the booze i have no voivce to speak of....

im on set right now, filming. i think im doing another film next month. probably for the best about the trip. definitely for the best about the trip... but like, again making me realize my lonesomeness... was planning on seeing old friends and elena and not really thinking about who i got out here....

i got emmy and sunny and Cecile, but Cecile's back and forth between here and across the country... Jo's sweet but doesn't really want to do anything but hang with her loser boyfriend and is really happy with her fucked up life in the halfway house with a curfew and no car and no job or school... it's cool... she's young... but... yeah... it's limited sometimes, it seems...

i just caaalled the damn ticketing place and was told it would take 4-5 weeks to get my refund. and i called the other place and i reeesent my check to the parking place and i've been taking care of all these things...

and julian canceled yesterday. which ended up kinda working cuz i had this audition. but. he had to cancel all his appointments i guess and his secretary called. and then i said i couldnt come tuesday cuz im filming. which i might end up not... but i dunno. i havent written him at all except to try to schedule, this week, and say i cancelled my trip. and its been a long time since i haven't written him a lot. i just dont want to. he doesnt. he doesnt want me. but then acts like he does. which is the worst. oh who cares. on

Friday, June 18, 2010

Don't Do It.


Now I've just spent an hour reading WA essays from Atlantic Monthly and New Yorker each truly more fucking brilliant than the last, I am sitting here quite literally Ling O really L, and listening to interviews and I've half a mind to... write him an e-mail.

I will not.

I will not.

I will not do this.

NO, Scarlet, no, do not be a whore, ye who spoke so hypocritically over dinner about sex industry workers and their tragic fate. ye who are 24 years old. just fucking stop it.




Among top 5 moments shared w literary journalist/critic/essayist/ivyleague professor/awardwinning novelist W.A:

W.A. (re: Paul literally forgetting his wallet...) Yeah, that's, that's like saying you forgot your penis at home...

W.A's GF: (laugh laugh) We were at the Halloween store in NY, and he was going to get me something, and I was like Oh no, I'll pay for it, and he wouldn't let me, he was like, Don't, that's making my dick shrink...

S: HA!!! That's GREAT--

W.A's GF: All the salesgirls were like OMG!!!

P: What is this about?

W.A: Amanda wanted to pay for something and I told her my dick shrinks every time a woman says that...

S: God, I would've CLAPPED. Like, thank GOD. I mean, really, actually, like, MY dick shrinks every time a woman says that...

W.A: HA!!!!



I have a few shows coming up... I hung out w Paul, super-rich zillionaire w/o a real address and went swimming in the ocean, and he gave me more clothes, he has them around the house because his ex is like in charge of some big fashion company, and then we went to dinner at that awesome place again, and it was with these two other couples, and I was sitting next to this one whose name is W----, and we were thoroughly enjoying each other... It was one of those immediate things where you're like UM I'm just going to avoid eye contact and conversation with this person, for the sake of everyone involved, but then after a little bit the need to do that sort of dissolves, everyone's engaged in conversation and so you start talking and the little spark flies... I mean it was just stupid things at first like similar OCD habits, crude-ish eccentric sense of humor and wordplay, then, preferences, timing, and pretty soon you're only talking to one another and overlaughing and then you notice it and reign it in and return to deliberately only looking at everyone else... Like, you know when someone just makes you like, puts you in rare form? I always have that when I'm really attracted to someone-- unless there's some GLARING ISSUE and I find myself having to SIT THERE AND PROFESS MY FEELINGS under their controlled glaring unreciprocal STARE-- it makes me extra witty, flirty, pulling shit out my ass I didn't even know was up there............

So he's mentioning being a writer every now and then, and then telling this story about going to Nevada to do this article about hookers and I realized: he's W----- A--------, like really famous and kinda favorite authorcrush... three of his books were made into movies and one by this director who's a friend of Paul's, which was the one I saw. It was good, apparently. It won Oscars and shit. But I saw it the day I got off a plane and fell asleep. Haha. But I read all the books, like I know the backstories, and how they sold, and stuff which I didn't say, well of course, I didn't say anything about anything, but ohgod, they're SO GOOD, and sexy, and I mean, actually, fucking genius, more so than I think is like, realized, I mean, who the fuck am I to say something like that, I just mean, I don't know I don't know I thought they like have these juicy kinda characters and plotlines that could seem like, but they feel true, and like, I could tell that was really his life, it never seemed exaggerated or exploited or even anything just like that was his experience and almost probably toned down not to seem sensational, edited, and somehow, through all of it, this weird creepy modern philosophy comes through... I mean... I guess they are considered that good, because obviously these really big people made these movies, but, anyway, what the dick do I know. He's sexy. Real sexy. That's what.

His girlfriend started seeming uncomfortable but like he was just really cracking me up, and I was just returning it, and it was only the six of us at the table, and everyone was talking and enjoying it... So... When we were all saying good-bye me and WA did not even look at each other, when everyone else was like hugging and stuff, same as with Elliott. Paul has some really neat friends. Shortly after we got to dinner we went for a cigarette and no one else smoked, in fact three out of the four others had just quit like two weeks ago (including WA) and we were outside and he was like, So you like W----? And I was just like, Yeah! What did he write again?? Just to confirm, and it was, and I was like Oh right right yeah... Oh, yeah, he's hilarious... Which I said about Elliott too. It's true. They are, and, I laugh at everything, but I mean, like, by the end of the dinner, I was really laughing at EVERYTHING W was saying, like, not just the funny things, and not just giggle, but like full on laugh, and then giggle, and then giggles still trickling out until the next full on laugh.

So, now I'm going to be thinking about this. And. I think... I'm going to keep going out with Paul. I just don't give a damn. I don't have to be in hot sweat love with who I go out with. Fuck it. I'm going to go swimming in that fucking paradise ocean, and to amazing restaurants, and I do like Paul, and hang with Elliott G and WA and DTB and all these cool awesome people and be given clothes and things and ENJOY my ass a little, and then move in up there, and WA and his lady (who is kinda/very-at-first-glance but then too insecure to remain-pretty and really young, I mean, like, well, probably five years older than me... I'm not sure how old he is... I'm gonna wiki... 47...) will take this place next door in the paradise and I'll go knock on their door when he's home alone and bring over my writing and like, an apple pie I bought down the street, and...

I've no fucking morals left. None.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

ShakeUp, BreakUp, WakeUp, MakeUp

So tonight was the night of legend of making jack-shit.

There was no one in there except my regular who writes on the show and whose wife texted me pretending to be him, and who maybe reads this blog, and who doesn't tip except a bunch of singles when you're onstage, which is more than anyone else was doing tonight.

It was literally dead.

I was thinking about going, and when Vinnie called me, I decided to go, so that at least, with my comings and goings, at least I could be reliable in that way, as on-call... But after a few hours I decided I had to get out of there and he told me to go ahead and not to worry about the house fee. He let me go out the back too so the reg wouldn't see me leaving cuz he seemed to think I wanted to leave with him and his friend and hang out. They're writers. " ". And the thing is they're not witty or smart at all.

I talked with Summer a lot, the only girl who speaks to me, the only girl with whom I'd like to speak, the only other girl who comes and goes like me... She's awesome, she's smart, she used to be a really big agency model and date a really famous genius tv writer, and she's usually always joking and chipper and sometimes rues about where life's taken her. We think alike.

Me and Cam made up. I called to apologize and say I was in meltdown mode, and he said he was only being dickish because he wants to travel too, but we shouldn't go until our work takes us there...

He's half-right. I mean if the trip had been better planned, I totally could've done it. Whether he'd have considered that enough "paying my dues" or not. I've been all over the world, sometimes work took me there, other times, men. Sometimes, just my own saving up because it was what was important.

Anyway. Now that I'm not going it's all cool.

I'm glad though.

This thing with Elena, I mean, I still love her, but, she has so much pride I don't know how she'll be, and even more prideful if she feels guilty, and she feels guilty all the time. I never feel guilty. It's a useless emotion. But anyway. Not good to be fighting with two friends at once... Means you're definitely doing something wrong.

So it's still only midnight and I'm home, and I made a couple bucks for cigarettes and food, which I don't know if I should get cuz I ate like a straight PIG yesterday and the day before. But anyway. That's thirty bucks I wouldn'tve had if I stayed home.

I haven't said anything...

About Julian.

I've gotten it in my head that he isn't interested in me. Or rather. Is interested, and is interested in flirting, and seeing me. But nothing beyond that. I really have.

These last few weeks, when everything's been so hard, and I've felt so lonely, he's just been like, my best friend, and my source of strength, and sanity, and perspective, and self-esteem... I mean he's been helpful like a therapist should be, and I mean not just with psychological stuff, but like, he's helped me figure out how to do things, take care of things, plan them, the car stuff and the errands and financial issues... He's a sweetie. And I love him.

I gave him a check like, two weeks ago... for the co-pays cuz he said that month was all covered... He hasn't cashed it. I haven't said anything about it and neither has he, but, he hasn't... and I wanted to stop going, and cancel, this month, when I was freaking out about money and he said we can do a payment plan and don't worry about it.

On Friday after the session he went to Table Top to get coffee and I ran into him outside.

He saw me walking toward my car but I didn't see him but by the time I did I was half in it and could only yell Julian!! Hey!! And he kind of stopped but I was like in my car and all I could say was, Look see this is my car.... Pretty bad right? And he laughed but was like walking so I just fully got in the car...

And yesterday he lent me his sunglasses. And Eckhart Tolle CD. Though I asked for that... but with the sunglasses, I'd been crying--- I was REALLY upset yesterday--- and was wiping up my mascara and said, Oh, this is fine, til the bathroom right? And he nodded, but then he got up and said, here, need sunglasses? And laughed... So I have them... Until Friday...

That's what's been going on with Julian.

I don't expect anything to happen. I really love him a lot. That's it.

Well I guess this was kind of inevitable.

Like months ago, when we were thinking about this trip, I had a dream that I got there, to a little city outside the Moscow airport, or about to leave from her apartment or something, with Elena, and we were staying at this weird foreign hostel on opposite ends of the hall, and she was packing and I was telling her not to pack so much, and we were fighting....

I just canceled my trip yesterday. I ate like $500 in penalties, and fees, and perhaps increased my risk of death by coronary a little. But I got most of it back. There's no such a thing as a non-refundable flight, just one where you eat it in shit-tons of penalties. But I got most of it back... and I don't have to worry about killing myself in the next three weeks, and then, possibly, probably, not even being able to go...

Yesterday, after buying my ticket across the country, where I'd fly out of, and then sending out for my VISA, taking care of those final details, I got home to another email from Elena with all these insane costs. I wrote her back like, You can't just keep piling this on, after telling me one price, and then another, and finally when everything seems surmountable it's just a new thing every day... And I called her, and she was like, What did you expect, are you a CHILD? Why didn't YOU think of these things? I'm finding this out as we go along, that's how you plan a trip... and I was like, because you told me to leave it to you, and these figures, and I believed you, and I know you're finding it out as you go along, and I'm not blaming you, but I CAN'T AFFORD this.

And she got all nasty...

And the thing is. She's calling me a CHILD? She's 15 years older than me. She and Valeria can swipe a credit card, when these costs come up. End of story. I have to go fucking whore myself in the gutter every night.

And she asks me why her mother tells her she's selfish.

She is. She has been. For the last year, she hasn't been there for me at all, and in the last few weeks has said some really discouraging things when I just simply ask her not to, and she won't let it go, and... going with her would've been really stressful, and, MAN did I want to go, but.

I feel better now.

I feel so much better.

I can fucking breathe.

I took the situation into my own hands, lesson learned, again, again, but... I made the right decision. And I feel better about it. I can relax during my summer. I can work on my music. And I can go swimming. And I can get myself a desk. And I can write. And I can read. And I can breathe.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010


I need to tighten the reins yet again, on my cyberprivacy.

This loser ex of mine, the one who i stuck with for 9 months but is, as J would say, an "ineffectual basement dweller"... just found this blog by way of some seriously psychotic searching, read nothing but anything he thought might be about him, and then decided-- entirely unaware of what's real and what's fiction (AND WHO CARES MAN, it's over) that I cheated on him, and texted me at 1 in the morning to call me a bunch of names. We haven't spoken really in almost a year.

So, Ineffectual Basement Dweller, if you're gonna read my blog at least become a follower and show some respect.


It's things like this that actually sort of reaffirm my confidence in my abilities, my potential, my future.

Thanks, IBD

Monday, June 14, 2010


Working at night like this... Just makes me feel utterly worthless during the days. I don't wanna do anything. But eat and sleep.

Turns out, again, the trip is way more f'ing expensive than I thought it was. Again, Elena told me some more inaccurate stuff, like, that she had frequent flier miles I can use, whatever, I'm not gonna bitch... But I had a panic attack yesterday...

I went out with some Armotrash mobsterpunks after work to get food. They are so uncouth. And what is it about these Eastern bloc gangsters, where it's always ONE cute, smart one who's like really witty and sexy and cultured in a swiss cheesical kinda way with lots of holes in his knowledge base, surrounded by a bunch of blankeyed neckless cavemen?? I mean I know it's like a power/selfesteem issue, THEY want to be the smart one who can smoothtalk when they have to and guffaw the rest of the time, but with Italian mobsterpunks it's usually a group of predominantly smart and funny, with one token meathead, not the other way around.

Varan fell in love when I came down and sat at their table eating a lollipop and he says to me, with the two no-english-speakin' lugs watching, Oh, just keep eating your lollipop. No, in a sexual way. No, this is not sexual...

And I chomped down on it, shattering little pieces of lollipop everywhere, and started giggling.

And it took him a minute to realize I was being a smartass myself.

A little piece of blue tootsie pop landed near his crotch, and he motioned that I should lick it, and said "Can you clean this up now please?" And I raised my foot up between his legs, just hovering the tip of my eight inch heel right over his private parts, and, said, real dumb-like, "Oh SURE! Let me just wipe it right off I'm sorry!!" And then made like a stabbing motion downward stopping just short....

He wiped the seat himself and was totally enchanted...

He was making me laugh, too, with his stupid crude Armotrash jokes about everyone in the club... These mobsterpunks just really love making fun of everyone, it's a total universal, he's just like Stefan but from slightly further south. And this is the third gang of Eastern Euro disorganized criminals I've won over in that damn club. And they're assholes to everyone.

Star came over and asked one of the meatheads if he wanted a dance and he said "Sorry you are too heavy for me." And she looked over at me, and I was sitting with Varan, and I could just shake my head and not really say anything else, which kind of was a shitty feeling. But that's how it is...

We went to get food after the shift, and I literally walked out on them. They didn't even do anything, I'd just had it, after they missed a turn for the 9th time, and didn't listen, and couldn't find anything open, and kept rolling down the window to shout out or spit at people. And were probably talking some trash about me in that bizarre language.

We pulled up in front of a Subway--- yeah, the FAST FOOD chain--- and got out and they were communing about something and I was standing there saying to Varan, for like the tenth time, Look, I really have to go, I'm tired, and he kept saying, Baby! Come on! Relax! You were hungry! and he gave me his Coke to drink and I kept trying to give it back to him, and just wouldn't take it, so I put it down on the curb, and said, Hey. I'm going. And turned around and said Dasvodanya and literally walked home.

They pulled up to me after like five minutes and stopped and V opened the door and said, Scarlet come on get in! And I said, WHERE. Are we going. And he said home, home, and I heard him tell the two goons in the front my cross streets so I got in and they drove me home. But I would've walked. It wasn't that far.

Cam and a bad Joke

i am not fucking going to work tonight.


i am not going to talk to anyone, because i tried that today, and it wasnt working out too well.

i ran into one of the producers of my movie in the fedex, where i was chipping away at the infernal occupation of preparing for my trip, and it took me like 5 minutes to figure it out and then another 2 to be simpatichnaya. and then i total Cam to go eat a bag of dicks, for no good reason. not for NO reason, but not a really good one. he just suggested going to the beach and then asked if we could 'take [my] ride' and last week after working on his stupid audition scene, he asked me to get him cigarettes, on the way.... i'm like... what the blue moon???

so that was today. ironically. i had more than half a mind to drive to the beach by myself, in my Ride, but to take the Blue Oyster, who's worth about $80 in scrap metal (i just crossed myself. i love the Blue Oyster and am extremely grateful for everything he's done but for the grace of god) when Cam has like, well, I dunno it's really low-to-the-ground and kind of clausterphobic, honestly it gives me the screamin Meemies, but at least, a normal car, is just out of the question, besides which he was asking deliberately to be like I'm not paying for your Shit, cuz I'm a Modern Duder, and you are not even sleeping with me. it's just seven layers of retarded, and i cant.


here's a really bad Armotrash joke for y'all... or rather, a pearl of wisdom, in the standard vaudevillian totally like Capone meets Catskills three-part bait-and-switch construction. as told, with flawless timing, to Y.T. by mobsterpunk Meathead #1:

what's the difference between a russia girl and a french girl?

please, enlighten.

if a guy meets a russian girl on the street, and says to her, to hook up with her, oh, lets go have some drinks blablabla, she says, oh, no, i cant, i have to meet my mother, this, and then eventually she says, ok.

so they go for drinks, blabla, and then he tells her oh, lets for disco. so she says oh, no, i cant, its late, i have in the morning things to do, so he says oh come on so finally she says ok, ok, we go.

so they go to disco, so then he says oh why not you come to sleep at my place, so she says, oh, no, i cant, no, no, but eventually she say ok.



so a french girl, a guy meets on the street and wants to hook up to her, and says oh come on we'll get some drinks, so she says, sure why not?

so they go and have some drinks and he says, how about we go have disco and so the french girl says yeah sure ok!

so then after disco he says how now about you come to sleep at my house, and she says yeah, great!



so then in the morning, when they wake up, the french girl packs up all her things in her bag and says ok now im going, bye!

and the russian girl says in the morning, oh, just wait and i go to my mother house and take my things in my bag and i come right back!


Sunday, June 13, 2010

i want to die

the end

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Interior Decorating

I am one tired lady. I tried to go to bed earlyish last night but it was tough... I don't even know when I got to sleep but I kept waking up... Then I woke up at 8 and went for a run. I totally cleaned and also rearranged my furniture and the doma looks so much better and feels so much more comfortable. Jesus. That feng shui musta been pretty off.

But now I'm so tired. I wanna take a nap. I'm meeting Sunny at 7 for dinner. I can't afford dinner though. I'll probably get coffee. Or a soup. And then, of course, work.

I hung out with Cam last night. We did his scene thing again. He's real attractive. And sweet. We're gonna go to the beach tomorrow, and the Gogol Bordello show. And he hasn't like, kissed me or anything yet. (I mean we've slept with each other and kinda dated like a year and a half ago but I mean now...) And he always almost does and walks me home and then says good bye. And I really like it. And obviously we flirt a lot and he's always trying to impress me and over the three times we hung out gotten more touchy and stuff. And you know. I know he likes me.

But this makes me think. Maybe none of these people like me. Maybe they're just flirting with me to be flirty.

I mean... Cam really liked me before... the last time... and men have fallen all over me, been crushed, made fools of themselves, poured their hearts out for the first time ever, and proposed, with diamond rings, introduced me to family, etc, etc, always. Hot shot lawyers, millionaires, rockstars, nice boys from Idaho, married, single, young, old, mobsters, Christians, all nationalities. And all the guys I meet in the club. And at the shows.

But... maybe, some of it is just all in my head... I mean... I need a mirror... all the time... I see myself in photos and I feel like that person is beautiful but it's not me... Or onscreen... and I always feel like I just don't look like that anymore... I only feel pretty when I'm seeing myself onscreen or in a mirror at the club or when people are watching me and telling me I'm pretty. I'm like... It's not even that important, because I just don't care anymore. But it's important because... it really makes me wonder if I'm just delusional all the time. If the club and the pictures made me think, or the particular men, and I'm not anything attractive or anything anyone would wanna be with. I damn sure don't feel pretty right now. I don't have any nice clothes AT ALL. NOTHING.

But. now that I've moved the bed, the breeze and the sunlight coming through the window are caressing my body and there's nothing more beautiful than that...

Friday, June 11, 2010

The Art of Whore

The title of this post is not supposed to be self-effacing OR ACCURATE, I just thought of it and find it funny.


I was telling J how I did the math and realized I'll be okay money-wise, that it's been dead at the club, but I always manage to squeeze out of there with a buck-fifty minimum, like it always comes SOMEHOW by the end of the night even after tipout, and that the other girls are all really over me by now, because they'll walk out of there with like fifteen, thirty, sixty, on these nights... and I totally understand it because sometimes I'll be sitting there for the first two or three hours and there's like nary a soul around, and I'm like, wow, I'm gonna make ten dollars tonight... But it doesn't happen, and he was like what is it that makes you better at it? So, I'm gonna break it down here. My secrets. The art of the club.

It took me a while to get this... I think like with everything, it's just kinda practice, and I've never really thought about it, but it's kinda like this:

First. If you walk in and one of your regulars is there, you go sit with them obviously, but if they're talking to another girl, you just come with a warm, familiar friendly hello, smile and nod at the lady, and say okay well I'll talk to you in a bit...

If there aren't any regulars, you don't go up to anyone until you go onstage. You go onstage, scope out the crowd, see how people react while you're up there, then take a moment after you get off and go around and gently talk to all of them, slowly approaching, just smiling, see if they're open to talking, ask if they enjoyed the show, everything slowly, clocking the reactions... If they're cheap and at all reluctant to tip, or try to be smartasses, or talk a big game, forget about them completely. Don't even look at 'em again. Usually I'll find one guy who really wants to talk, buys you a drink... Sit down with this guy... See if he's smart, sweet, lonely, hip, nerdy, whatever. Behave accordingly. Match his pace, intelligence, and his sense of humor.

Do not ask if he wants a dance. Stick with him. Wait til your turn onstage again, and he'll tip you a lot when you're up there, which usually makes others do the same, and more interested, cuz they see you're devoting your attention to one guy and not all desperate. Also, obviously, see how much he's tipping, because if he likes you, he'll tip what he can afford, and sometimes that's peanuts, and call for a *graceful exit.

Now, by the time a guy has talked to you for a bit, and feels like he knows you, it's usually totally okay to say, Ok! You stickin' around? I'm just gonna go make the rounds for a bit and see if I can get any dances... Make it kinda funny, and they'll usually be like, Oh of course, do what ya gotta do, or, Hey, aren't you gonna ask me? That way you cover all the bases, and always have someone to go back to and sit with... While you're making the rounds, another girl might come up to them, and ask them for a dance, and they'll be totally overit, and whenever you come back to them they'll want to talk to you.

A lot of the girls will just come up to the guys at the beginning of the night and ask for a dance or talk to them for a second and then walk away and whine in the dressing room how he's cheap and not tipping. Stupid. Most guys who come in early and aren't regulars are lonely and want to like, feel like they're special and have a special connection with a girl, and don't wanna feel like they're being hustled, even though that's exactly what's going on.

Now, later in the night, gets more packed and people are more drunk, I still don't go up and just ask for a dance right off the bat. Again, see who's watching you onstage, and only initiate the dance thing, with the guy you've been chatting to, or the new people who've been watching you, if there's a "Two for One," which is all the frickin' time, like every four songs. Make it sound like a deal, obviously. Explain it earnestly and slowly like a bimbo.

And, of course it helps to be really pretty, and a good dancer. Always seem like you're in a good mood. DON'T COMPLAIN, already. And everything slooooow, slow, slow. These girls just ambush the duders or come at them like vultures. Some of them come on really strong and basically scare the guys into getting dances, and it works for them, but it's not necessary. And besides you don't wanna make your money with dances. I only do that on a shitty night. It means a cut of your earnings, and the really big spenders don't usually get them...

*As far as walking away from a duder, always be cheerful and nice about it and say you'll be around and come back in a bit. Even if you're never ever going near the cheap bastard again.

That's about it. It's pretty obvious and intuitive but kind of hard to perfect. Also... It kinda helps to not be friends with the other girls. They waste their time hanging together and complaining when it's slow and get caught up drinking together and being assholes. Get really LOOSE, I mean, it's never a good idea to turn down a drink... And you wanna be relaxed and fun. And seem a little drunk. But never get drunk. You just lose your focus and sometimes your money.

Yep. That's it.

there's a porcupine in my throat

that liquor must've gone bad. i think i had 4 drinks, which is what J and I decided was a good limit for twice a week, but... it was probably more... haha... hard to keep count once you hit that 4.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

yes, this again

There is something REALLY tough about making myself go sometimes. I'm not alone in this, I've discussed with Hunter, she said the same: Sometimes I actually drive all the way here and turn around.

Actually last time I went into work I had a shot (or three) of Jack before I made it out the door...


I was filming all day yesterday... It was weird, PLAYING a stripper... All done up and made up and in someone else's gear, saying someone else's words and everyone so respectful, and cool, and put together... I can't even imagine dancing right now. To the same stupid songs. I'm a FUCKING BALLERINA. I'm not any of it. I'm not a ballerina, or a musician, or a writer, or an actor, or a student of anything, I just pick things up and drop them. But... I have to fucking just go right now. Does anyone else struggle with this daily? To do absolutely anything? I wanna run or do my yoga tape... OMG Scarlet FUCKING GO. You said you'd go every day, what is the big deal. WHAT is the big DEAL. It is the easiest fucking job in the world. Just goooooo.

Oh! Vinnie called me. Perfect. Going.
There aren't even any mommies here.

In this town I mean. Or, I guess I don't have any friends in town whose mommies are local. Just a bunch of vagrants.

I thought about that because yesterday Elena told me how her mom was like, Why did Scarlet buy her ticket so late! That's not enough time to be there, after making such a long trip, why doesn't she just extend her ticket and stay with us for a few days, she can teach Lenny English, we can give her that money instead of getting a tutor! And I was like, why did SCARLET buy her ticket so late?? I bought it like two days after a you, I could've bought it MONTHS before when it was actually like three hundred dollars cheaper... But anyway she was like, you KNOW my mom wants to adopt you right? And I was like, yeah, yeah, I know the drill, and I won't take it as a compliment to either of us. Like that always happens to me with people's parents, and I know that on some level they're just using me as a pawn to play against their own children, to make themselves look cool, to be like, look, I can talk to her about my career and all these adult things, and she's so polite and responsible, poor thing, see, she's gone through so much and STILL, and why aren't YOU like that, hmm?? And Elena laughed and I said it to make her laugh, because I knew that was what she was worried about, and because it's partly true...

And I was like, and I know they do that and it's obviously like, because, with their own kids, it's like, well, because you don't scream at her for being late to dinner and taking the more expensive train the second she walks in the door and she's not like, OMG why are you screaming at me the second she walks in the door and you're not like criticizing her boyfriend and she's not like OMG MOM! You never RESPECT ANYONE I bring home!!! Because she's not your actual DAUGHTER, that's why, that's why we can't talk about your career all polite-like. And she laughed and was like, God, you nailed it, how come you always understand everything?

And I'm like, because I have hours and hours to sit alone and observe and imagine and think about it all, and because I'm ALWAYS a guest in someone's house. That's why.

Whenever I'm in a place I always gravitate to the nearest June Cleaver or Jewish mother in the vicinity and just like attach to their bosom. And they always want to adopt me and my friend/boyfriend at the time is like, GOD, my parents LOVE you... like, with a little resentment when I was a little kid which got less and less as we grew up and became genuine like, Scarlet! You're family, you know that, right? Which always made me wanna cry. Because like, I am, but I'm not, I was always the kid that everyone's parents liked and especially liked because they kind of felt bad for, and I always knew that and knew also that I was always so respectful and well-behaved because I was truly grateful for the hospitality, more so than like, an eight year-old probably should be.

I mean and even recently, like last year, with Scott, and the year before with Sean, and with my exes before that, they always liked me, and ask about me, and I was invited over all the time, by all of them, even Scott's and Ryan's who they'd say never invited anyone over... and I'd always get an early introduction... I mean I've even met CAM'S parents, and sister already, on different occasions, who were each here for only a couple days, when I'd only known Cam for a couple weeks, the second time we went out, and then months later when we weren't even dating... And I'd always feel a little weird with the boyfriends', because I knew that affection was totally conditional, and the inevitable heartache that much worse... So, it was a double-edged sword, but still, I dunno, it made me feel a little less of an alien... and a little more of one...


I don't wanna think about this right now.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Just straight whining here.

the sun in this town is one of the gnarlier things i've ever experienced. i just went running and it was like, my shadow was like 6" long everywhere, no relief, beating down on me like an abusive husband. but i did it. short one though. 3 miles and a mile cooldown. it was miserable.

elena called me. last night i did it and went to the beach, and i couldnt even relax because she called me when i was walking around the water and started moaning about some irrelevant shit the entire time and i soothed her and explained it all and broke it down and then she decided to say the thing that i have a million times asked her NOT to say because i DONT need to hear it and its just discouraging and not helping me in any way to just keep repeating and she just kept turning it around on me and i was so agitated by the time i left....

and she just called me now and is still on it, and i'm like, Dude.

i don't even tell her anything anymore and... well i know it comes in waves...

Also. like. she is constantly saying like, our situations arent the same, but theyre equivalent, like, the emotional stuff she has to deal with when she asks her mom for money is just as bad...?! as worrying one will have nae a roof over their heads? and being totally alone? um, no. besides. she wouldnt have to deal with any emotional shit from her mom if she didnt act like a total brat with her i mean the things she tells me!!! like, my mom said this and this and this to me, is it true, why did she say that, and im like, because elena. you acted like a total brat. you are 35 years old. and in your mothers house and stop causing drama and show some respect and... but i said it all funny and soft and made her laugh and then she says just straight brutal things to me sometimes and THEN she starts crying ohhh you always make me feel so much better and its like i can never say anything to make you feel better and dadadada..

ok. ok. ok. whining over.

Monday, June 7, 2010

And furthermore,

The girls at the club- allllll collectively decided to dislike me. I don't give a goddamn, because as soon as I walk in, I plop myself down next to some duder who's gonna shell out all night, who doesn't like lapdances and thinks he's the first person to suggest, Can I just give you the $$ to sit here and talk to you? I don't wanna go in there... and I'm like, yeah, I totally know, it's kinda weird, I'd totally rather talk to you here too, that would be cool... And THEN I don't have to give the percentage of it to the house. So at the end of the night there's the little list with our names and X's next to them for how many dances we did, which determines how much of our hardearned greenbacks we give up, I've got like, one, or three, or no X's... but anyhow... yeah, I just don't talk to them, at all, I come in dressed already under my hoodie and plop the F down.

So this inglorious ho' whose dancer name is so marvelously retarded and gross I will certainly leave it to y'all's imaginations, well the duder she was sitting with pointed at me, as I walked by, like Can you get that girl over here? And S--F-----, who was eating, a fucking hot dog, in the club, no F.N. joke, made an obscene gesture, and I was loaded up, so I walked over there and leaned on the table and smiled at her. And she goes
And I go, Hey!
And she goes, Can I help you
And I go, Sure!
And she goes, What?
And I go, I just saw, you makin a little gesture over here, is there a problem?
I wasn't making a GESTURE! Someone OVER THERE... made... like a gesture at ME, so I made a gesture back, I'm just sitting here eating a hot dog!
Okay! Have fun!

So then later while I was talking to a duder she came up to me again, with her spiked insane hair, which she just bleached, which is doing nary a damn thing for her, and like insane makeup, and little latex top and pudgy little boy body-- (I have to give it to her, she puts on quite a show, she can like climb up the ceiling like spiderman, and wears a blindfold and shit, but its not sexy, just.. nuts...) and says, Why did you come over to my table while I was talking?
Same reason you're here at my table now.
What, why, I wasn't even doing anything, I was just sitting there eating a hot dog-
Got it
I pretend like you're not here, you don't even exist to me-
I was just sitting there eating a hot dog

This little lady has been dancing here for YEARS and thinks herself quite the queen bee, and is always bitching and complaining. I'm over it. But she and the sexy girl are friends now, that's what they all do at the club, they become little best buddies like, what's that damn game called, where you circle 'round the chairs? Oh, Musical Chairs. yes. like musical chairs. and then talk smack about each other. it's some kind of stunted development high school bizarre objectifying stripper thing. I abstain.


Heartraced again, bank account viewage... Like, I HAVE to work tonight, I mean, I won't be able to tomorrow or the day after, but I have for the last 3 nights except for that stupid wedding night, and all I've been doing is working and panicking, and I feel like I should do something nice for myself, but, I mean, it's like I slacked off forever but now I'm just machinegunned and I'll burn out even worse so. Ohgod. My heart is RACED to Allah right now. If I just go to work I won't be heartraced, just super burnt out, if I drive out to the beach, well, I dunno if I'll even be able to relax, oh man oh manny oh manny.


Well, I'm done. DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Done with the semester. I completed it, as impractically and ineffectively as possible. But it's done. It's done, and I don't have to worry about homework and papers and getting up in the morning ever again, for a while.

I must admit it feels good to be done. I went to work last night too. And got up at 9 45 today-- the exam was at 9-- and my prof was so sweet and was just like, here, catch your breath, are you ok? And I told him after I handed it in that I'm going to Moscow and he told me all kinds of places to go.

I have a little time now. I can relax now. I've paid everything up and finished school. I'm filming this week. J called me. I'm not gonna talk about him anymore. I can see Cam, I can play piano, I can maybe see my Armenian boyfriend. I can work every night without having to get up and knowing I should be studying....

Oh man, I was just on the phone with Elena, and started stressing a little, she's talking about men all cynical, I told her I stopped seeing J, she's like, talking about how bad that was for me, I called her yesterday crying just about how stressed out I was about the money, and she was like this is good, you're finally learning, that music and writing are just not practical things, and I was like, but this is hell, and she was like, but that's life, and she was like, trust me, I've been there-- she has not been there, she doesn't even know what I do, and she'd be judgmental about it-- and she has really bad relationships all the time and she's like 15 years older than me and I'm thinking no, I am NOT you.... anyway. I just got done with all this shit and I don't want to be on the phone. I want to maybe just drive to the beach and sit there alone. Yes. That's what I want to do. It'll be such a long drive, but...

Jo was totally MIA today, didn't go to the exam, and isn't answering the phone... She had a lot to make up, it seemed kinda impossible, but it's a shame...

Saturday, June 5, 2010

it was a little better for like 2 minutes and now its really fucking bad
i hate where i am and want to be where im not
and think about going there
and start sobbing hysterically
have i been here often
maybe i should look back
has it always been like this
its hard to remember
i dont want to die but i really dont want to live
because although there is so much beauty
i know i wont get to see it
because im so slow
and waste so much time
and so lazy
and such a coward
that all there's ever to do are errands
and i complain the entire way through everything
and then its gone


i cant take it

i dont know how i did the things i used to do
i have been all over the world

my mother took her life too
at least she got married first
ill never be in love again
i just dont SEE HOW
i dont see how this will ever change
it has been exactly the same for a year
but i mean exactly the same
groundhogs day
i need to end it, i cannot take it anymore. i cant. i understand now. i do.
i am actually afraid to go running because im afraid of how ill feel when i come down from the high
im afraid of how ill feel when i have to walk back into my lonely apartment
im afraid of how late it will get
and i wont get my homework done
i havent done anything fun since new years
im always with the wrong person, to have fun

i have fun at work, drinking and dancing sometimes, but its work
i have fun performing, but its work too

my classes have been fun
everything is work

work and errands

i really do want to die a little
i really want to be nicer to myself
but im too angry at her
all the pain she feels is her fault

i dont know what to do besides blow my brains out
if i take a bunch of sleeping pills ill wake up feeling like shit
i'm done with all this
i've been such a fool
i'm disgusted with myself
i've never been so tired
i don't know whether to go to work
all the girls were mean to me yesterday and i hate saturdays, there are probably like 18 of them there. there were 17 yesterday. i went to that wedding today. jess was fake but we barely exchanged a word, everyone else was all right. i took care of all my parking fees, and i bought my ticket to moscow. i took care of this old hospital bill. i went to work. i made jack shit. maybe i should go to work. i told vinnie i wouldnt though, cuz i thought id be at that wedding later. i could just stay in and finish my schoolwork. i should. but i feel like im gonna jump out of my skin. and it would be stupid to go tomorrow, with my exam at 9. its too late though, 10 o clock already. ill just go tomorrow, take the exam, and then pass out if i like. i havent gone running in forever, but im so tired and hungover. i asked j to call me and he didnt. i dont know why i felt so upset with him on friday... i think i'm just done, it's just been one nightmare of a year. i want to die. i do. last night i went home with some armenian gangster. i feel this tremendous violence toward myself but then i feel like, empathy toward myself too, i don't want to be mean to me, i don't want anyone to be mean to me, but, i don't know. i'm always thinking 'lalala nobody cares about me' but it's just like what do i expect. i'm having these really bad thoughts right now. i don't know what to do. i don't know who to call. i want to go dance but i've barely been able to keep my eyes open all day, i want to go to sleep before the sun rises for once. i want to work my body so it can feel good. it's always tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and then things get done and then i was just. i'm unhappy. i am unhappy. i do everything wrong. i'm a fucking loser ok ok i'm going to stop. i guess i'll stop writing. i think i'll take a bunch of pills right now. i shouldn't do that. but i cant even cry.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Prelude to Uh...

Mmmh, sunshine lollipops.

I told him about my productive week, and that I followed his rules about drinking.

We talked about that some.

I brought up Cam again, and he said, again, Cam is the.. frustrated genius who can't get his genius to manifest? Hah, yup, I told him, he tries to be observant, he laughed, Tries to be observant. I elaborated, I rambled a little, he was like, so... wait why did you bring this up? (HAH) I said Oh, I just wanted to complain... He nodded, Right, uh-huh, and then I said, Well, part of me feels like I should be involved with him... I looked at him, he was looking at me, lipbit, browraised, Because, you know, he's like my age and in my industry and... And it sounds like he's hardworking? Yeah! And like he means well? Yes, yes, definitely... ... ...

His feet were close to me and I touched them with mine a bunch of times. And he played with his hair a lot.

And it one point I was looking at his socks and pants and I said, Is that blue and blue? And he said Mmm-hmm. And I said, looking at his shoes, and black. And he said Mmm-hmm. And I said looking at him from top to bottom, feet to hair, Black and blue and blue and white and blue and black. And he said, Mmm-hmm.

And then, I didn't even know where I was going with it, but I told him about Carly and her sister, and I started talking about the dreams and I kept stopping and I just wanted to tell him really but I ended up saying, that, Well all the dreams... can be consuming...

How are they consuming?

It's just, I don't know, I sort of, feel like I live in this fantasy world, I'm always in it, and, it takes me so long to do anything, it's hard to get all these things done that's another reason, because, I'm always in these dreams and thoughts, and I just feel disconnected from reality, often...

And he nodded and paused and did this incredible thing with sweeping his hair out of his eyes and said, Well, I think, I mean I could be- I'm not sure I'm following exactly, but, I think, with people that have very active fantasy lives, they end up sort of, just waiting for it to come true... instead of... Well... It's like, well, I'm not sure what the fantasy IS, you haven't described anything specific, I don't know what the GOAL is...

And I sort of giggled... He was looking away the whole time and didn't look over at me but sort of slightly smiled, and kept going,

But it's important to, whatever the fantasy is, regardless of whether it's... going to happen, just to be present and that... even if it's not happening, right NOW, you're still in... right now, and be mindful of that moment...

I try.

And you're able to, push through, and get things done.

Yes, slowly...

So then, the clock ran out, I looked back it, I felt sort of frustrated, he told what the co-pay was, that all the May sessions were covered... and there was just a co-pay...

I started writing the check and he gave me a pen and he was standing and then he sat back down in front of me, and said, I like your CD...

I sort of beamed, Oh!

I listened to it once, I couldn't listen to it very carefully, because I was doing other things... but, was the first one also the Gipsy Kings?

No, it's Paco de Lucia.

Oh, and he walked over next to me to his CD player and pressed play.

I slid my way up onto the arm of the couch, writing at like 3 letters per minute on the check, Did you translate the Spanish?

No, I couldn't pay attention to the words, what are they?

Well... I only know them... phonetically, like, here-- he turned it up-- You have to fast forward a bunch to get to the words...

Oh, I can't, on this thing...

Oh, oh wait let me see-- I stood up next to him in front of it-- Did you try holding it down?

No, and I held it down, and it started fast-forwarding, and I smiled, and he said, Oh, well, I guess I can... and I waited til I heard the singing, and he said Ok there, and he reached in, and I let go a little late, and it was halfway through the words, and then I rewound, and he said Ok! And I stopped it, and he turned it up again, and we stood there... and he walked back to his desk and kind of paced...

And he said, I think he's saying... and he said something beautiful in Spanish that I can't remember exactly but it sounded so good and I said,

Oh! That sounds exactly like it!

And he laughed, and we talked a little about the Spanish "r" and he kept pacing and he was totally kind of nervous and I was almost shaking a little, even though I was totally in Come-On mode, I was wearing this sort of garter type thing I make with the top elastic of thigh-highs, I just cut it off of them when they get ripped and wear it by itself, under shorts or something, just one, and I played with it a little... and he was walking back and forth, and I finally gave him the check, and sort of lingered, but he retracted his hand like lightning again, hah, and went back over to his desk and sort of half sat on it, and I told him I would find the words and he said, Ok, good! And then we talked about the Gipsy Kings and he said, Well, I mean he is kind of similar, right?

And I said, yeah, but, they're a lot more pop-

Okay, I know you have a more refined ear than I do, but-

I said No, no, it's a similar style-

In Spain there is that musical tradition-

It's flamenco guitar, I remember my dad playing it-

Oh! Really?

From when I was like four-


But I mean Gipsy Kings...

Are from France right?

Like- between-

The Basque region...

Yeah, but...

It is in-

They have like a cover of Hotel California, I mean-

Oh, really?

Yeah! And like, I Did it My Way, that...

Oh right, A Mi Manera...

Yes. Just like that. Can you say that again?

:::full-on blush::: What? A Mi- ::too self-conscious. Laughs::

Oh here's your-

Thank you- ::again, with the hand retraction:: So I'll see you on Friday.


Tuesday, June 1, 2010

No Cryin' in Baseball

I'm not going to discuss today, make a list of the mundane details of which today was comprised, which will only serve to get me going and bore my faithful readers, that have made today the Worst Fucking Day I've Ever Had, not insofar as anything bad happened, just in the sense that it has caketakingly been the day I would least like to ever repeat, ever again, right now, as far back as I can remember.

Paper, exam, no sleep, hours at the DMV, bureaucracy and moneybled, exam: continuous.

'Nuff said.

For all my complaints, when Psych Prof sort of gave the requiem and said some of you may have enjoyed the class, some of you not, I said, "Enjoyed the class, won't necessarily enjoy the grades!" and I meant it... When I handed in the exam, and my paper, I was about to say that I thought it was double-spaced but I see it's not so it's twice as long, but I said, Ahhh I'm not gonna say anything, heh, and he said Miss O Dwyer, you don't have to. And we smiled and I shook his hand, and my eyes began to well up with tears...

And I was almost in the mood to work but it's out of the question. And I'm gonna curl up and read all y'alls posts I'm so behind and I'm looking forward :-)

Sober, Somber, Steel

cam is hot. he's really hot. his eyes are huge his eyelashes are incredibly long and curly and he's just super sexy hot. he's tall and model-y but not vain and retarded; he's intelligent and curious about the world, and very sincere and the young little boys just love so much more openly. he has good taste in music. he made me a mix cd tonight.

sometimes his jokes are awkward and i have to pretend to laugh at them. and he doesn't... KNOW... a lot... like, in experience, and my references, he doesn't get my references, he doesn't ask me any questions, which isn't always bad, he is interested in me, and he really respects me, and likes me; he thinks he knows, he infers, but he has no idea. no clue. you know?

but so what.

it's not like he says dumb things, or even really wrong things, or like i have to dumb myself down, and a lot of his opinions are educated, and intelligent and observant, it's just like there are universes he's not even aware of.

but so what.

today i got up... not early... i let myself get some sleep... and me and jo went to macy's to return that crap my neighbor got me. this was like a big thing on my to-do list. i don't think i've ever returned anything in my life. it's just such a pain in the ass. i wanted to go the dmv and the parking place but it's memorial day so it was all closed, but we are going to do it tomorrow, we are, and it will be a huge weight off my shoulders. god, i really- well i'm not gonna beat myself up. basically fear of mortality or something. kept me from taking care of that.

and we worked on some school stuff. obviously not near as much as i need. and then i went home and i talked to carly this old childhood friend and she called me because her sister went through this awful thing, and she's been having this premonition dreams... and carly remembered when we were like 13, 14, and i used to have them, she said "i remember how you used to tell me this stuff, your dreams, and then we'd run into people, from your dreams, and all these things would happen... i didn't know what to say to her about them, but i told her you used to have them, and maybe she should talk to you..." and we talked for like an hour. and then i went to cam's and we're gonna do this show at the galapagos. and it was fun hanging out, and sexy, and his roommates came back and were like sitting around just watching us talk.

his roommate though is now sleeping in the living room because there's like, two other people staying in their little place- cam always ends up living in the clubhouse, like he did on that tv show- so his roommate wanted to go to sleep so i didn't want to stay and cam burned me the cd in silence. i picked up this book they had there, body language for dummies or something, and i flipped through it. it made me think of julian.

seeing him on friday like that. like, sometimes, when we've had these encounters, i get myself trashed and sit at home fantasizing and obsessing, but after friday, it's been opposite. i've been motivated. to take care of myself for a change. to ask friends for help. and go to work, and be around people, and get my shit done. maybe it's just that enough is enough and i can't anymore, because if i do, i will literally end up on the street or in a nuthouse or just blowing everything and while i often cut out before things get too intense, too good, before i finish anything or really GO anywhere with it... i also don't just let myself go, ever. i don't just fuck everything up. i don't let myself get dicked around. i'm not going to anymore. if that's what's going on. it's not happening anymore. i don't care, what it means.

i have to write a FIVE page psychology paper by tomorrow at seven. i don't know how i'll do it. i asked cam if he would and he said he would and i think he totally would but it's so stupid and specific for this class i'd be doing it with him, but, maybe that's what i should do, because there are certain things i can't do unless someone is there plodding me along.

but it's NOT that i lack discipline. because there's nobody, telling me what to do, in life, i don't have to answer to anyone, and i haven't, for so long. for like.. ten years.. since i was a CHILD.. and.. i need someone plodding me along sometimes, but i have to recognize that i need someone plodding me along, and when, and how much, and i have to find someone who's willing, and i have to ask them. and to do it. and not because there are any consequences. because when you ask someone, they're doing it as a favor, and if you tell them "oh nah i'm not gonna today" they're not gonna do anything, except probably stop asking and never do it again... so it's like... i still have to make myself do it. i just need to ask someone to be there.

and none of it's easy.

i'm tired and can't sleep, and i feel like crying, i can't eat, i don't feel like smoking a cigarette or drinking. i should write this paper but i'm so tired and i've been so tired all day and... well.. i'll do what i gotta do.