Californian Love

So, there’s this toss-up of going to LA for a permanent stay. I mean, it does make sense, especially since I’m going down the porn route. The Valley is a cesspool of the erotic image. But, it’s not necessarily the type of films I want to make or even be in. C’mon, let’s face it, the shit that you see today is pretty much void of any true character. I remember I chatted with DuPar and his friend one night while I was stoned. So, of course, everything pretty much stuck with me. His friend made an excellent comment that pornography imitates mainstream Hollywood. Even the AVN Awards is a little bit too glitz and glamor.

Everyone takes themselves way too seriously. I get caught in that act myself. But, what’s important to realize, especially in this particular field, is that almost everything you see is a performance. Whether most people want to admit to that or not. If you can at least acknowledge your performance, maybe feign some sort of noted irony, then at least you’re somewhat grounded to reality (whatever that means). When you let this performance eat away at who you are, then you end up looking like an asshole. And not the cool, Denis Leary asshole. No, a pompous jerk. Then again, I guess we need people like that in our lives. So, to those pompous jerks who take themselves too seriously, keep on keepin’ on.

Anyway, my point is basically what I always spew off of the top of my head — We’re just too comfortable. Then, DuPar scared me with the comment, “New York is becoming Connecticut.” And, being a Connecticut-born reject, I know Connecticut. Overall, it’s nice, my place was craptacular but not to an impoverished degree. Then, you have these overrated homes marked at astronomical prices. And if you look at New York, really look at it now and not through the “if-you-can-make-it-here-then-you-can-make-it-anywhere” Frank Sinatra lens, then you will see that bars and restaurants are way too expensive for no reason. There is a tremendous gap between upper/middle class and the lower class. When you’re broke, you’re broke. And you can’t be broke in New York for too long. If you’re single and young, then gettin’ by is enough. Yes, while I still see some funky characters, I also see this incredible number of socialites strolling through the streets. They sip on lattes and speak of summers passed in Peru or Germany, places I’ve never been to. You think back to some classic New York City-based shows like Friends and Sex and the City, all upper class white individuals who had access to everything we want. Pfft. What a ripoff. Frank Sinatra just might be dead in this city.

That was my rant. And that is why California is looking big and beautiful right now. I could get lost anywhere, as long as the oceans, desert, and mountains are still around (which they are). LA… I think LA doesn’t take itself too seriously anymore. It’s broken, it’s sunny and there’s still incredible amounts of smog. Eh. What can you do? Hollywood always looks hungover, as if one party has ended and another immediately begins, with little time to pop an aspirin and get a good night’s rest.

I’m starting a band, goddammit. I’m fucking learning how to play the drums. And I will rock this shit. Goddammit. Whose with me? Clothing is optional.

Since I’m pretty much broke-ass right now, I’ve been also going through this procastination stage (again!). My scripts are just sitting there in my computer, waiting to be finished. It’s such a drag. I keep working but I have no money to show for it. And you need money. I hate being bonded to something so important yet so inanimate.

Shooting that epic boat scene with BM tomorrow. It will be nice to get away. Then, who knows. I need a job. But, not the type my mom wants me to have.

I think I’m gonna lose myself in music. It seems to be comforting 99.9% of the time (1% when I’m sleeping). I think I will write a love letter to the lead singer of Eagles of Death Metal because they’re kickass. Then, I can be a musician’s girlfriend. And I’m fine with that. As long as he rocks my bed from daylight to dawn. And supplies me with drums. And likes cats. And doesn’t mind that I fuck on film. All I ask for in the world.


Originally Posted Tuesday 6/6/06 on

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