12 Days of Christmas, Part Deux

I SHOULD HAVE STARTED IN PORNO, MAYBE THEN I’D BE A WORKING WRITER NOW

All over the entertainment news are stories about “Juno,” the movie, penned by the screenwriter flavor of the month who has quite a back-story of her own. She was discovered on a porno internet blog detailing her exploits as a stripper/peep show artist, wrote a book about her exploits, then wrote a screenplay not about her exploits but about the adventures of a 16 year old girl, not about porn. It’s a good movie, I enjoyed it. It’s a wonderful script. But geez, couldn’t you have struggled a little more like the rest of us? Actually, I don’t know what I would have to be envious of because if I would actually finish all these projects I’m working on and writing then maybe someone would take notice. Well, I have, sort of, I’m just holding onto it until it’s ready. And when will that be? Hmmmm…

Seriously, though, it gives one pause after reading about this woman. I mean here I’ve been struggling to get a hand up (no pun intended) as an actor and writer and really all I had to do was stay in Detroit and create a porn blog. Only here’s the problem with that for me, I’m too square. I wouldn’t have had the most salacious exploits to concoct and then rehash for the viewing internet readers. Of course, I was in my late twenties’ and early thirties’ when I lived in Detroit and pretty good lookin’ too. I was a nice petite size 2. I just didn’t live a party life. I pretty much gave that up after New York. I got bored with it to be honest. And I gave up drinking because in Detroit they don’t have subways and taxis and buses to get you home like New York. You have to drive and I wasn’t going to drive drunk.

It gets boring bar hopping after awhile. You’re in the first bar and the night is young and everyone looks all fresh and smells nice and then you’re onto the next place and every one is looking a little blurry and still okay but a mite crumpled, someone falls off the bar stool but he’s up again, you’re eating more, then you’re onto the next and the next place and you trip over the guy who’s on the floor in front of you, you have food stains on your shirt, skirt, whatever, the heel of your shoes falls off and who are you? Did I come in with you? And where can you get a pastrami on rye at 3 a.m.? Not to mention all the money you blow in one evening and the time I actually left a night of tips in a taxi cab. Lot of quarters to be sure and lots of singles but they add up! After that, I quit drinking and swore off just hanging out in bars. It’s not that fun really and I end up bumping my head quite a bit on nice floors but enough of that.

As to the whole salacious thing, I wouldn’t know where to begin. Not that I’m a goody two shoes or anything but like I said I’m kinda square. I don’t get into the food thing because whip cream and all that makes me gag and I’m lactose intolerant to boot. I’m not into the dominatrix or S & M stuff because that just hurts and it looks like a lot of work. I’m not into role playing or any of that because unless it’s some Chekhovian play, I’m not into being a nurse for your entertainment pleasure and hey, shouldn’t I be making tips anyway? I’m anti-social so I don’t care for threesomes, foursomes and large parties of orgiastic sex not to mention I’m also a clean freak, obsessive-compulsive and slightly autistic so anything weird bugs me out and turns me off and please don’t try to touch me. Please don’t do that whole sexy whispery talk thing because having to reply, “What?” “Pardon?” “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that. Can you speak up?” is a turn off and it just makes me laugh. Stand up comedians can’t do a lot of this stuff without thinking up punchlines so if you’re comin’ off as Mr. Lovah, Mr. Don Juano Beano, I’m just gonna make a crack and then you’re gonna get pissed.

In fact, most sex to me is a lot of work and I’d rather be watching a movie or reading a book. This is why I prefer slightly kinky sex where I can be tied up. That way, I can just lie there. If I can get him to blindfold me, I can take a short nap. And I hate it when they ask, what’s your fantasy? Hell, my fantasy, is to never have to work again a day in my life. Or that I could buy a $200 dress and not feel guilty about it. Or eat a hot fudge cream puff sundae without gaining weight or how about not gaining weight at all ever. Here’s a fantasy: world peace, food for the hungry and a new car for me. Here’s another one: a beautiful home so I wouldn’t have to live in these dump apartments the rest of my life. You know, this is where I’m at fantasy-wise.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, finding fame and fortune thru a porno blog. See that’s not gonna happen for me. Maybe someone will want my adventures as a legal secretary: “These revisions to the Limited Partnership Agreement were voluminous and curiously erotic.” I don’t think so. More like curiously NEURotic, rather than erotic. Or how about retail sales: “One day a man came in the store and he came right up to me and asked, ‘Where might I find Jockey brand tube socks?’ And I knew right then it was love.” See? Not good.

So I guess some of us are going to have to settle for some other way to the path of discovery of fame and fortune. Maybe midgets. Maybe I can talk about my life with midgets. Yeah, I don’t have a life with midgets but I can always make one up if need be. Okay, back to my book. It’s good, it’s called “What Color is Your Prophylactic?”

12 Days of Christmas

DECEMBER 19, 2007

I’m done with my Christmas shopping. Hooray! And Monday I packaged, wrapped and mailed off all the gifts I needed to so they’ll arrive in time for Christmas. Hooray! Well, now, who died and made me the perfect, reliable sister, daughter, aunt, in-law, friend ever! Usually it seems I do less and less every year. I’m allergic to crowds, people in general, so I opt out for the gift certificate and on-line shopping over the more caring, intimate personal touch of in-store, in-person purchases. After all, life is short right? Why spend it waiting in line at any time of the year?

This year I made a discovery; not unlike the one I realized when I wanted to start an anonymous blog and then realized that if I had it on my website, it wouldn’t be anonymous. No, not like that. I discovered those two credit cards that I hadn’t activated. The emergency ones. The cards you’re only supposed to keep in time of total financial ruin and breakdown. Well, this is the time. Quite frankly, it’s most of the time but now is as good as ever. I got so excited that I made a list of everything I wanted to buy anyone I was going to buy a gift for this holiday season. Then I made a list of everything I wanted to buy myself. Because during the holiday season, my shopping goes something like this, “One for you, two for me, three for me, one for that guy, a card for this gal, wait, no, she’s kinda on my funky list, then one for me…” Just like that. I decided I had a lot of fun shopping in person this year.

Until January….sigh.

December 20, 2007

I bought an expensive dress today. Not really, really expensive but expensive for me which means in terms of food. How many groceries could I buy for the month for the price of this dress? How long am I going to think that way though? It’s so annoying to constantly say no to myself on the most menial things. I bought a dining table Friday and picked it up yesterday. Now, you say, what’s the big deal? But ever since I moved to Los Angeles eight years ago, I can count on one hand the number of furniture items I’ve bought. I would need 18 hands to count the number of acting classes, business items of that ilk, promo items, postage, mailings, office supplies that I’ve bought instead. In fact, I didn’t get a couch for a year and a half after moving here until a boyfriend bought me one for Christmas.

A couple years ago and even more recently last year, I remember being out of work and looking around at my dump of an apartment and thinking why haven’t I bought any furniture, why haven’t I lived in this place? I had a friend visit one day a few years back (friends only visit once every three years…if that) and she looked around my living room and remarked, “Maria, why don’t you have anything on your walls?” Hmmm, I looked around and she was right. Not one framed cheap print of some famous painting that described some exhibit at some cosmopolitan city museum, not a lot of framed pictures of family and friends (I take pix of them when they come to visit so I’ll have proof that I actually do have friends. And I frame them even though they usually have a deer in the headlights look because of the sudden shock. I digress.), no cheap paintings of boats and cafes, nothing. Not even a mirror (no wonder there is a look of shock on my friends’ faces.). It was unsettling to say the least but the answer for that is that I never really moved in. I always thought the space was temporary. It’s so easy to get comfortable somewhere even if it’s miserable. Comfortable misery. That’s what the shamanic astrologer told me what it would be like if I didn’t move to L.A. but stayed in Detroit. He said, it would be okay but it would be like a “comfortable prison.” Well, I think that’s just what I did to myself here in L.A., I created a comfortable prison for myself. And it’s really not that comfortable because I can’t sit anywhere but at my desk or on the bed or in the rocker (that would be not a person with spiky hair wearing black leather but the chair kind). Much of the time I wasn’t home though either, out every night trying to perform, rehearsals, classes, work and oh yeah, another comfortable prison: the garage, the preferred living arrangement of a former boyfriend. A garage. No wonder I thought my apartment was okay.

My whole point is that next year is about being comfortable with abundance. It’s about finding a new place to live, buying a new car and buying a once in a lifetime dress because I feel like it and not feeling bad about it. It’s about putting stuff up on the walls and finding new ways to enjoy life, to enjoy every day. Yes, it can be about goals and dreams and their achievement but it can’t be about striving anymore. It can’t be about relentless sacrifice and striving all the time without giving back to myself. So next year will be about striking a balance between work and play, effort and fun, business and pleasure, and buying and spending. Okay, that one is kinda the same but I’ll figure it out. So for now, I’m enjoying the dress even if it is in a closet on a hanger. It’s just nice to have it. Although I should try and wear it soon, otherwise, after the holidays, it may not fit. Sigh.