My struggle to post has reached epic proportions. Like, news radio should be on the case. "Today we have one woman's heroic journey to overcome apathy and persistent brain fog in order to self-publish narcissistic musings on the internet. Here is her amazing tale".
September has been a slumpy month. The weeks preceding my birthday always tend to be low energy/challenging and this has been no exception. One thing I did manage to do last week in an attempt to get myself excited for something in this world was to make a list of my Large Goals and Small Goals.
On this list, Large Goals are things wildly unrealistic in the present moment, like "getting my own sitcom". Small goals, however, are also sometimes wildly unrealistic, like "paying rent". Kidding. Maybe. Rent aside, Small Goals are usually something much less insurmountable.
And Friday I found out that very soon I'm going to be checking off one of my Small Goals. This alone practically redeemed the whole month of September:
Yes, that will soon be me. Chillaxing behind glass for throngs of Sunset Strip visitors to see. A live mannequin. The beginnings of what I hope will be a long and fruitful career as a performance artist. I realize this is not your typical "goal" but this job is awesome. Because here are a few of the things I've seen the girls in the box doing:
1) working on a macbook 2) sleeping
Very soon, I can be making money while I sleep. Or freelance writing, which means I'll be gettin' real paid for two different jobs at the same time. This, gentle readers, is all I really ask from a job: Allow me to look at things on the internet. Allow me some nap time.
So there is a light at the end of the long dark tunnel that was September. It didn't have the crazy, WTF? factor that August did, which I'm grateful for, but it was an exercise in holding patterns and confusion. I'm so excited to come out of it, kicking off October with a birthday and adding "Standard Lobby Box Girl" to my resume. My parents will be so proud.
I accidently found my ex on Who's Dated Who and learned that the Bull Shark can swim far up into the Amazon river due to a special gland that retains salt and kidneys that recycle it.
I hope you all haven't abandoned me. I haven't been writing because I'm still recovering mentally from the concussion and the week in New York, which was in an exercise in sleep deprivation, exhaustion and overwhelm. Yes, I was in the Hamptons and eating at Nobu, but nannying full time is hard, and in New York doubly so. Plus on a concussion. Sleeping on a couch. So there were a lot of things working against me, and this week back has involved as much staring at the wall blankly as I was doing almost two weeks ago.
So last night in an effort to mix it up with the things I stare at, I went and saw Hamlet 2, which I've been vocally excited for ever since I saw that whole "Rock Me, Sexy Jesus" thing in the preview. Plus, it's time to must confess to you all I have a thing for this man:
I know. Don't judge. This is solely based on a personal encounter approximately two years ago where we were both synchronistically at the same dinner party in Laurel Canyon (Laural Canyon AKA Best Place in LA. I just moved there and am so so in love. Infinite posts to come on that.) So at this dinner party two years ago, he and I were the first to arrive. I'd been to the house before, but being the only other person I went on the house tour with him. I had no idea who he was. I hadn't seen his hilarious Alan Partridge show yet, nor his killer performance in Coffee and Cigarettes. Behold:
But I could tell by the conversation with our mutual friend that in some circles he was known and respected and that perhaps someone else would immediately recognize him and be in awe. So I asked who he was. He told me that he was a comedian and actor but that he wasn't widely known in the States, unless you were a cult fan of his BBC show. Now the actor thing did not appeal to me, as I don't think I could ever date an actor. But he was quiet and reserved with a marvelously understated dry wit. He had these soulful puppy dog brown eyes of someone who is completely tortured. And the British accent. That's really all I need, gang. I was sold.
Now I never hit on guys. Never. My idea of showing someone interest is ignoring them, cleverly ridiculing them or giving them my default disdain face. It works. But with this individual I was suddenly possessed to show ardent interest. Even I didn't understand. I smiled, made cow eyes (I know I made cow eyes. My eyes naturally glare and roll so I can feel the difference when I'm trying to reach out and brush someone's face with my lashes.) And I continually made efforts throughout the evening to engage in conversation. It couldn't be considered throwing myself, but compared to my usual MO I felt like I was a contender for Girls Gone Wild.
He showed me pictures of his daughter on his cell phone. He stared at my cleavage. All signs pointed to yes! So imagine my surprise when the end of the night came and he did not ask me out. Just a hug and good-bye. Granted he was leaving to shoot in two weeks, but still I wanted something. I just didn't understand. All this wonderful interaction, my CLEAR interest and NOTHING. Why, people? WHY!?!?!
Shortly after that however my interest waned significantly. The whole Owen Wilson suicide debacle happened, where Mr. Coogan was rumored to have given him drugs and be a maudlin partier himself. Then the whole rumor where he had a tawdry fling with Courtney Love came out, and while both denied it, having your name in the same sentence as her will suck the hotness out of anyone. The person I'd met was not the person I was hearing about now, so I moved on with aplomb.
But last night the Steve Coogan love reared its head once again. That shit was hilarious. BRILL. I was LOL-ing all over the place. And now I'm hoping yet again we are synchronistically paired at another dinner party. I visited imdb and it appears he's working till the apocalypse (does this guy take a break?), so it's not like he has time for dating anyway. But if we ever cross paths again I will surely give him stink eye and the cold shoulder. No one can resist that.
