A Little Fall of Rain
So I finally saw Samuel again this past Friday. It's weird--it wasn't something I was looking forward to but like housewrok and bills and calling your parents it felt like something that I should do. If we were going to continue to work on being friends then I did need to see him or let it go.
I know that to anyone who has read my blog knows my views on Samuel change easily from time to time. I'm fine, I'm not, I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm glad... I guess it's because how much of the current 'us' is a work in progress with many steps and missteps to be had.
I saw him at the BR in Burbank with some friends. We had a weird beat where he was hugging people and didn't know if he should hug me. I let him even though I wasn't sure it was what I wanted but it was what the moment called for. It felt strange to have him back around, laughing and talking and just being himself while everything else felt different for me.
But I think it also allowed me to make peace with it all. I mean--sure there was a couple of awkward moments and most of the friends with us didn't allow for us to be alone whether they meant to or not but it was for the most part fine. I think I know what I want out of all this. And if that's all I got than it's enough.
But the rest of night and what it stirred up is best left for me and me alone. I wonder if he has any thoughts about it all. I also wonder if I should know what those are
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The Happys
Things that make me happy have been happening a lot as of late and to celebrate--here's a list...
-Movies with Audrey Hepburn but especially ones that are tragic and romantic at the same time.
-Dressers, dressers, dressers...
-Late night swims where I sneak into the pool after 'curfew' and stare up at the stars for hours
-for friends that go beyond the call of duty and don't lisent when I tell them not to do that anymore
-Virgin Airs cheap tickets!!!
-Old science ficition books that I have rediscovered and rereading.
-The five minutes in yoga where it because all zen-like.
-My mom's refusal to stop sending me Curious George items. It's vaguely cute!
-Cocktail attire!
Things that make me happy have been happening a lot as of late and to celebrate--here's a list...
-Movies with Audrey Hepburn but especially ones that are tragic and romantic at the same time.
-Dressers, dressers, dressers...
-Late night swims where I sneak into the pool after 'curfew' and stare up at the stars for hours
-for friends that go beyond the call of duty and don't lisent when I tell them not to do that anymore
-Virgin Airs cheap tickets!!!
-Old science ficition books that I have rediscovered and rereading.
-The five minutes in yoga where it because all zen-like.
-My mom's refusal to stop sending me Curious George items. It's vaguely cute!
-Cocktail attire!
Sometimes a Sweater is Just a Sweater.
So I bought an ugly sweater yesterday. Was there any hidden meaning to this? Possibly. It could be about how I could be using shopping to get over depression. It could be about how vain I am to think that I could take something possibly tacky and make it cute. It could be about how the sweater remains me of something from my past—a piece of art—that ties me back into a sweeter time.
Or maybe it means nothing more than I am just doing things to do them-no meaning, no rhyme, no reason. That everything has been all twisted up as of late and that they won't be getting better any time sooner. But that's too dark and twisty—even for me.
Though I wouldn't blame you if you thought that way. That with my current series of blogs, my conversations, my state of mind it would be amiss for me to think that you couldn't mistake me for being a bit depressed or off or whatever word you choose to fill in with. But I'm also sure it's not that simple.
I spent my day today looking at bridal gowns with friends. I had coffee and joked and snuck photos and texted. I made dinner conversation, read Thomas Guides, e-mailed jobs and just pushed through my day. If you spent time with me you might have felt a little melancholy but not too over the top. It's just here where my words live that you feel this about me.
Its funny how much weight that can be placed on a blog. That somehow a blog becomes a permenate record of how you feel. That every emotion, observation and statement placed down can be perceived as the final word. That if the wrong person reads it, or it is put up at the wrong time or with the wrong viewpoint it can suddenly be seen as cannon for how you view the world.
I've never bought into that idea. If I believed everything written by the people I read I would think they were shallow or crazy or silly or mean or desperate or insensitive or just plain boring. That people really think in lists or surveys—that you tube is a secret window into a psyche or that itunes can really be the key to a personality.
Instead I view a blog as a small window into a moment of time, a stream of thought. And that being allowed to share in that insight—however casual or small or disjointed—is something to be grateful for. That even when it is something I don't agree with or understand or want to hear; by my choosing to go and read it I make a contract with the other parties involved to be respectful.
And not only that, but that it is not something to hold against someone, that it's not that they are writing things as a way to hurt people or been aggressive or to be judge. That they are just sharing something simple that could be simply different the next day. That how they feel when they are alone with their words doesn't mean this is how they feel as they make their way through the day to day of living. That reading too much into spare moments on-line or stream of thought doesn't really accomplish much at all.
So if I write about buying an ugly sweater it doesn't mean anything more than if I write about being disappointed in a person. That if I talk about Sargent Beverly doesn't mean I'm into crack whores or that a review of how I hated 'Little Women' doesn't mean I'm beating down your favorite book. It's just sharing an insight—a thought from a random day or place or of a person or a time.
Sometimes a sweater is just a sweater. And tomorrow it might not even be an ugly sweater.
So I bought an ugly sweater yesterday. Was there any hidden meaning to this? Possibly. It could be about how I could be using shopping to get over depression. It could be about how vain I am to think that I could take something possibly tacky and make it cute. It could be about how the sweater remains me of something from my past—a piece of art—that ties me back into a sweeter time.
Or maybe it means nothing more than I am just doing things to do them-no meaning, no rhyme, no reason. That everything has been all twisted up as of late and that they won't be getting better any time sooner. But that's too dark and twisty—even for me.
Though I wouldn't blame you if you thought that way. That with my current series of blogs, my conversations, my state of mind it would be amiss for me to think that you couldn't mistake me for being a bit depressed or off or whatever word you choose to fill in with. But I'm also sure it's not that simple.
I spent my day today looking at bridal gowns with friends. I had coffee and joked and snuck photos and texted. I made dinner conversation, read Thomas Guides, e-mailed jobs and just pushed through my day. If you spent time with me you might have felt a little melancholy but not too over the top. It's just here where my words live that you feel this about me.
Its funny how much weight that can be placed on a blog. That somehow a blog becomes a permenate record of how you feel. That every emotion, observation and statement placed down can be perceived as the final word. That if the wrong person reads it, or it is put up at the wrong time or with the wrong viewpoint it can suddenly be seen as cannon for how you view the world.
I've never bought into that idea. If I believed everything written by the people I read I would think they were shallow or crazy or silly or mean or desperate or insensitive or just plain boring. That people really think in lists or surveys—that you tube is a secret window into a psyche or that itunes can really be the key to a personality.
Instead I view a blog as a small window into a moment of time, a stream of thought. And that being allowed to share in that insight—however casual or small or disjointed—is something to be grateful for. That even when it is something I don't agree with or understand or want to hear; by my choosing to go and read it I make a contract with the other parties involved to be respectful.
And not only that, but that it is not something to hold against someone, that it's not that they are writing things as a way to hurt people or been aggressive or to be judge. That they are just sharing something simple that could be simply different the next day. That how they feel when they are alone with their words doesn't mean this is how they feel as they make their way through the day to day of living. That reading too much into spare moments on-line or stream of thought doesn't really accomplish much at all.
So if I write about buying an ugly sweater it doesn't mean anything more than if I write about being disappointed in a person. That if I talk about Sargent Beverly doesn't mean I'm into crack whores or that a review of how I hated 'Little Women' doesn't mean I'm beating down your favorite book. It's just sharing an insight—a thought from a random day or place or of a person or a time.
Sometimes a sweater is just a sweater. And tomorrow it might not even be an ugly sweater.
The Worst Three Hours Ever
I know I haven't blogged in a while--mostly because being unemployed makes you feel like you have the time to do more and yet somehow less gets accomplished at the same time. That being said--Ihad something happen yeseterday that makes me take to my words.
Yesterday was one of those days when I felt like I was hit three times in a row and for no really reason. Just take a hit and walk it off.
I finally got the call for certain about plans for Big Medicine 2. I had already been in discusses about the show and wasn't sure what was going to happen. Basically it was decided by a combination of things that they were going to head in a new direction per TLC and so they needed sopme different staff. And while I was surprised I was being asked back in the same job--they were willing to offer a similiar idea and I was hope to it because I adore the new team. What I wasn't expecting was to be told if I came back it would be what breaks dopwn to a serious demotion in the finiancial sense. And they felt bad and said I shouldn't come back for what was being offered. I was upset because I worked my ass of for that show and felt like I was being tyhrow away. I know Nolan would not be surprised by this but I was.
Afterwards I called my mother because it was her birthday. She was a bit cranky and snapped at me. I asked what was going on and I found out that a dear family friend of ours finally passed away the night before from his end stage cancer. This hit me extremely hard--Ralph Grossi was honestly one of the most amazing people I have ever known.
I have met a lot of 'artist' and 'art lovers' but no one quite like Raplh. He was one of those people who was so into film (not movies) and not in the usual LA way of 'who's in, who directed it, is it super cool, is it artsy?'. He loved film--alll film--with a joy that was always amazing. He would watch anything, enjoyed everything and always loved the magic of a story. He was someone he loved it simply and fully--someone who played a huge part in my life when it came time to chose to try and be a creative person. He always made me promise to love what I do--because the love of a story is the most important part. And I will always remember how he excited he became whenever we talked about films. Just a joy and a light that while I know he's better off--it still breaks my heart.
Finally--in a daze after both these moments--I went to the story to get some wine and dinner. I was on edge and then I ran into Fernando. Fernando is my first LA ex, the one that I learned a lot about myself form dating, someone who did things I have never quite forgiven and not since in three years or so. I had just found out that he had married Rory 2.0 (As our friends from the relationship dubbed him) so I was in shock to walk straight into him and his husband as I was picking wines. We didn't say anything and just had an odd moment of silence then his husband wandered up and kissed him and I was just like 'OH MY GOD.' (One because Carl does look like me and two because EVERYONE is in a serious rel;ationship but me.)
It just felt like everything was fucked with in the course of three hours--you not that good at your job, someone who once upon a time saved your life has passed on and everyone included the guy who never wanted to get married but is now married so it might just be you--all happened and well lets just say I had a bit of a Brittney Spears moment. Though no children were hurt.
I'm ready for this to be over
I know I haven't blogged in a while--mostly because being unemployed makes you feel like you have the time to do more and yet somehow less gets accomplished at the same time. That being said--Ihad something happen yeseterday that makes me take to my words.
Yesterday was one of those days when I felt like I was hit three times in a row and for no really reason. Just take a hit and walk it off.
I finally got the call for certain about plans for Big Medicine 2. I had already been in discusses about the show and wasn't sure what was going to happen. Basically it was decided by a combination of things that they were going to head in a new direction per TLC and so they needed sopme different staff. And while I was surprised I was being asked back in the same job--they were willing to offer a similiar idea and I was hope to it because I adore the new team. What I wasn't expecting was to be told if I came back it would be what breaks dopwn to a serious demotion in the finiancial sense. And they felt bad and said I shouldn't come back for what was being offered. I was upset because I worked my ass of for that show and felt like I was being tyhrow away. I know Nolan would not be surprised by this but I was.
Afterwards I called my mother because it was her birthday. She was a bit cranky and snapped at me. I asked what was going on and I found out that a dear family friend of ours finally passed away the night before from his end stage cancer. This hit me extremely hard--Ralph Grossi was honestly one of the most amazing people I have ever known.
I have met a lot of 'artist' and 'art lovers' but no one quite like Raplh. He was one of those people who was so into film (not movies) and not in the usual LA way of 'who's in, who directed it, is it super cool, is it artsy?'. He loved film--alll film--with a joy that was always amazing. He would watch anything, enjoyed everything and always loved the magic of a story. He was someone he loved it simply and fully--someone who played a huge part in my life when it came time to chose to try and be a creative person. He always made me promise to love what I do--because the love of a story is the most important part. And I will always remember how he excited he became whenever we talked about films. Just a joy and a light that while I know he's better off--it still breaks my heart.
Finally--in a daze after both these moments--I went to the story to get some wine and dinner. I was on edge and then I ran into Fernando. Fernando is my first LA ex, the one that I learned a lot about myself form dating, someone who did things I have never quite forgiven and not since in three years or so. I had just found out that he had married Rory 2.0 (As our friends from the relationship dubbed him) so I was in shock to walk straight into him and his husband as I was picking wines. We didn't say anything and just had an odd moment of silence then his husband wandered up and kissed him and I was just like 'OH MY GOD.' (One because Carl does look like me and two because EVERYONE is in a serious rel;ationship but me.)
It just felt like everything was fucked with in the course of three hours--you not that good at your job, someone who once upon a time saved your life has passed on and everyone included the guy who never wanted to get married but is now married so it might just be you--all happened and well lets just say I had a bit of a Brittney Spears moment. Though no children were hurt.
I'm ready for this to be over
Run, Run, Run Otis Lee
Run, Run, Run, Otis Lee
I finally pulled myself together and hit the streets of Studio City for a late night run. I hadn't done this since I came back from San Francisco for a million easy excuses but I fginally ran out of those and hit the ground with my feet rather than my mouth.
It's been a bit weird the last few weeks--obviously I have been working through some things but mostly I have been working thorugh myself. There's been some vicodine, some sadness, some honesty and some solutions but none of this felt real until I finally took in the night sky up and down Moorpark.
That its okay for Naomi to have gone to Las Vegas to live--that she'll be fine and I'll be fine and we'll miss the fuck out of each other but that's not an end. If anything its a free place to stay and a better reason to stay longer.
That addressing things with Samuel was important and needed and allows me quite a bit more clarity. That being blunt with Rocco made things better and he totally got where I had been coming from with all the push and pull. That I don't need Nolan's permission to do what I want in regards to BM2. I can do what I want the best way I can and that's all.
That I'm happy I spent the money on the recent upkeep of things. That if I can't really take care of myself than how can I take care of anyone else? I mean-there's a line between reckless and stupid and its time to stop straddling it and make the choice. There's really only one.
I'm not really sure why the movement gives me clarity but I'm gonna go with till the feet are stumps and there's nothing left to push with. Why fight forward movement?
Run, Run, Run, Otis Lee
I finally pulled myself together and hit the streets of Studio City for a late night run. I hadn't done this since I came back from San Francisco for a million easy excuses but I fginally ran out of those and hit the ground with my feet rather than my mouth.
It's been a bit weird the last few weeks--obviously I have been working through some things but mostly I have been working thorugh myself. There's been some vicodine, some sadness, some honesty and some solutions but none of this felt real until I finally took in the night sky up and down Moorpark.
That its okay for Naomi to have gone to Las Vegas to live--that she'll be fine and I'll be fine and we'll miss the fuck out of each other but that's not an end. If anything its a free place to stay and a better reason to stay longer.
That addressing things with Samuel was important and needed and allows me quite a bit more clarity. That being blunt with Rocco made things better and he totally got where I had been coming from with all the push and pull. That I don't need Nolan's permission to do what I want in regards to BM2. I can do what I want the best way I can and that's all.
That I'm happy I spent the money on the recent upkeep of things. That if I can't really take care of myself than how can I take care of anyone else? I mean-there's a line between reckless and stupid and its time to stop straddling it and make the choice. There's really only one.
I'm not really sure why the movement gives me clarity but I'm gonna go with till the feet are stumps and there's nothing left to push with. Why fight forward movement?
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