Today is my favorite Muppet's birthday. He hates it when I call him that, but I don't think he's reading anyway, so we're okay!
Back to the current project. Continuing on with the creepy parking lot:
Through the tempered glass
Taken in the elevator and looking out onto the 4th floor of the lot.
You can almost smell the urine.
It has been a very, very long week that most nights ended with a liquid dinner in the form of red wine. It's amazing how tired the body can be, and yet the brain doesn't want to shut the fuck up. So, alcohol to poison it into submission.
Aside from the wine, two things got me through the stress:
Hello boys...
In exactly 29 days, I will become 29 years old. It's quite exciting, the birthday stuff. For me anyway. You're just along for the ride.
I woke up this morning and my first thought was, "Damn, I feel good. Thank god I didn't go out last night." Because I had briefly entertained the thought of meeting up with the boys. At 11 pm. That lasted all of 32 seconds.
Anyway, then I decided today was going to be the greatest day of my life.
The first phone call of the day was one naughty boy asking what I was wearing (all black, head to toe. Including a kickass pair of heels!). Then a hotelier brought me my favorite candy of all time (Almond Joy, even though I can't eat it!). And then it was back-to-back-to-back meetings. One of which was a discussion about the transition into my new position.
Being on top is a nice place to be.
T-29 was a damn good day, indeed.
I love Valentine's Day. I really do. What the anti-V day cynics fail to realize is that there are a million different types of love. It's not just about the romantic and it's not just about the one day.
But just like Xmas isn't the only time we should look out for our fellow man, it does tend to culminate into one huge annual celebration anyway. And thus, V-day does too.
And because it's been a while since the Queen of Lists (tm Jeen Yes) made one, here's a list of things I love (in no real order):
- My girls. Unequivocally, no one is better than my 3 girlfriends who are never backstabby, jealous, or insecure. Real women is what they are.
- My boobies. They're truly awesome. No lie.
- A double shot of chilled añejo. No salt, no lime, no window dressing bullshit. Just cold, gold and nummy.
- The Boys. If only because musicians always get me in the right-there place. They're walking entertainment. And pretty to look at.
- Especially the curly haired boy, who has willed me his "Rock & Roll Saves Lives" t-shirt. Now that's love.
- La familia. They're the bestest. Like the little girls who want to be just like me. I'm building an army of Mexirican Mini GPGs. And we're going to take over the world.
- Los Angeles. For all its many faults, it is home. And has my heart. All over its twisty canyon roads.
- In the same vein, Mulholland Drive. Especially at night, with the city glittering below. There is no better view than from the top of those foothills. It's another world onto itself.
- Weekends in the Mojave ghost towns . The rich history of the place is almost tangible. I should really get out there sometime this spring.
- Being a total girl. There's just no other way to be.
- The fact that you all continue to read this, day in and day out. You realize you're just feeding my already grossly overinflated megalomania, right?
In a former life, this is what I used to shoot:
Not Chris Cornell.
Ah, musicians. So pretty and so fragile. They should be kept in glass cases so you don't break them if you play with them.
For the backstory on what this is all about, skip on over to these three previous posts:
Mutual Admiration Society, Texas Chapter
Mutual Admiration Society, LA Chapter
When It Rains
***
Sitting in the back of the Martini Lounge, she couldn't take her eyes off the man onstage covering Bullet the Blue Sky.
"He has to pose for me," she whispered to her friend.
"I have his number," the friend replied, smiling.
"Fan-fucking-tastic."
She called to set it up a few days later.
***
"Do you want me to take off my shirt?" he asked as she adjusted the studio lights.
"Yeah, that'll work," she replied. "Okay, I want you to hold the snake up here."
"I can take my pants off too, if you want."
Too flustered to imagine him naked in her studio, she declined the offer. A decision she regretted in the very next moment, and every one since.
***
Standing in the middle of a crowd at the Troubadour, they rocked out to the boys closing out their set. He was up in the rafters. They all screamed in equal parts horror and fascination.
"This is the best fucking moment of my life," he exclaimed later when they posed for pictures, him remarking on her groupie status now that she had a band t-shirt.
"This is better than sex?" she teased.
"Well, second best then." And it really was a that great.
***
"It's not working," he told her. "We're fighting constantly and everyone wants to go in a different direction."
"What are you going to do?" she asked, afraid she knew what was coming.
"I think it's over."
"No."
"Yes."
"But you can't! You can't just leave your fans like that."
"Sweetie, I wish I could stop it. But the four of us just can't agree on anything anymore. And we just have to call it quits."
***
Outside Tongue n' Groove he sobbed sorrowfully into her shoulder. It was the last night they'd ever all be together like this.
And out on that San Francisco street, she couldn't believe it was over.
***
"I have a secret to tell you," he intimated over their shared prosciutto sandwhich.
"Ooh," she replied, eyebrow cocked, wondering what she was about to be privy to.
"We haven't made it public yet, but...we're moving to Austin."
Shocked by the confession, she tried her best not to choke, disbelieving what she was hearing. She swallowed hard before speaking. "Why?"
"LA just isn't going to happen. We'll have a better shot in Austin. And frankly, I'm tired of the bullshit here."
As the words settled into her brain, she felt her heart slowly begin to crumble into pieces.
"When?"
"Beginning of the year...maybe a little later, depending."
She was at a loss for words, knowing it was futile to argue. And that the heartbreak would take a long time to heal.
"I get it," she finally replied, choosing her words carefully. "And if that's what you really want, then I fully support you. But I hate to see you leave." She couldn't bring herself to look at him, knowing if she did, she'd immediately start to cry. "I am going to miss you something awful."
"I'm going to miss you too, sweetie."
She was too stunned to say anything more. She returned to work and finally let the tears flow.
***
"So how's it going out there?" she asked during one of their weekly calls.
"We found a drummer. Young guy, really good."
"Congratulations!"
"Yeah. So we're rehearsing and will probably get a tour going at the end of the summer."
"Are you coming through town?!"
"Looks like we might."
"Fuck yeah!!" She couldn't wait to get off the phone and tell everyone else. Her boys were coming back home.
***
It was unseasonably humid for September.
"Suspend me!" screamed the basisst and jumped into the two girls' arms.
"Dammit, you're going to break us!" they complained. Someone took a picture.
"Where are we going now?"
"Miyagis, I think." And they posed for more pictures. Later there would be a photographs of sake being poured down their throats.
***
"I wrote a monologue about it," confessed the actress.
"What about?"
"All the things I wanted to say to him while he was still here. How he broke my heart. And even though we could have never worked out, how much I still love him."
"Does he know?"
"I told him about it when he was here last. I'm going to perform it at the showcase."
"Damn," was all she could think to say.
***
"Oh my god, I did coke for the first time on this street!" she giggled at the stupidity of her youth as they walked away from the theater.
"No!"
"Yeah, it was that night I was late getting to the second party. I was with that weird old guy we met at the first one."
"Oh damn!"
"Man that was fucking stupid!"
"Yeah you are."
"Hee! I feel drunk!" she exclaimed gleefully, despite not having had anything harsher than a diet soda.
"Me too!" answered her sidekick.
When they finally calmed down, she turned to her friend and asked "you know who she was talking about right?"
"Yeah, changing the name to Eric didn't really hide it."
"That was painful," she mulled over the emotional impact of the act, before noticing an amusing license plate on a car. "Dude, look at what it says! MUPPETE?!!"
"Take a picture!"
"I'm sending that to our Muppet."
"Heh. He hates that nickname."
"That doesn't matter. The boys know they're stuck with what we give them."
"Such is the life of our boys."
"Man I miss them."
Waiter had this to say today. I think it's a fabulous idea since it combines two of my favorite things: history and drinking!
Since most of you won't read this until December 6th, and I have to work late, you are invited to celebrate a belated Repeal Day with me at the Vine Street Lounge on Thursday night. Sanction, hugely famous in North Dakota, will finally be gracing Los Angeles with their presence again and I'll be there drinking tequila.
Like a good little American.
As an added bonus, you can meet me, the Princess, and our boobies (which will be on parade!). It's a guaranteed good time.
If you are not in the LA area, please do your part and have a stiff drink. It's your duty as a citizen of this country. For you non-American readers, don't feel as if you can't play along at home. I highly encourage everyone to drink!
I'm watching Reality Bites while cleaning the house, rediscovering old pictures of the days when drinking and debauchery were the only things that mattered. Welcome to my 20s.
I hadn't seen this movie in quite some time, until I received it for Xmas last year. Upon watching it one cold December morning, I realized that the birth of my love affair with musicians can be traced back to 1994, with the release of this movie.
I cannot stand Winona Ryder, but somehow, I forgive her supreme acting AND personality flaws when it comes to this movie. And it was back before Ben Stiller became...well, Ben Stiller. Because there was that one archetypal character that made it all worthwhile. I admit that, as a tender 16 year old, I fell prey to the romantically flawed ideal presented by Ethan Hawke's character, the dirty unwashed Troy. Because it was the mid-90s and subversive meta pop culture irony made that okay.
Remember, I was only 16. You cannot hold that against me.
Several years later, happily bouncing along in college, I found myself surrounded by the reality of a life with musicians. It did not bite, as evidenced by this random smattering of strangers bonding on the road to Vegas for a weekend of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll:
Where's GPG?
I've known too many guys since then that completely embodied the Troy character, from the goatee to the flakiness to the tortured soul bleeding through his music. And I've loved every single one of them.
I'm laughing at how silly we were, how much fun it was, and how few battle scars I actually have. The self-obsessed are usually pretty harmless, if you don't let them get in the way.
The other funny coincidence of all this is that the movie is set in Texas, where I will be next weekend, with the very musician we were going out to support in that picture.
This, also, does not bite.
I guess I'll never be able to let go of that part of my life. Or those boys that I still idealize, despite knowing better.
Eh, what can you do?
