Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Vanderslice of Heaven

I have been working.

My job involves lots of crazy people. It's the film industry, so I guess it's par for the course but I don't really know anything about golf. These crazy people talk at me and then I do things. Sometimes, I don't understand what it is I am doing but none of the crazy people seem to notice. This goes on and on until they have freaked themselves out and finally drop. My job is to take out the trash and lock up. That is what I have been doing.

At the request of my readership (thank you, Holly), I am posting something new. This is to prevent you from assuming that the fungus on my ass (in the last post) was the death of me. It was not. Though it does hold a certain poetic justice to leave that as my lead post until the fungi fade away, I have killed the romance of that particular moment. By the way, it IS in fact fading...

As a way of responding to my own despondency about existence, the Universe came to my rescue yesterday with something that I have to call a freakin' miracle. The suckiness of Everything That Is was eased, you see, by new music Tuesday. Yes, those in the know know that Tuesday is the magic day when new music is born. I rushed over to Amoeba (for the record...no pun intended, Amoeba is the single most excellent building in all of Los Angeles) to see if I could catch the in-store performance of this guy, John Vanderslice. I had suddenly become aware of his existence and something in me said: Pay Attention! But alas, I missed it. I picked up his new CD, Pixel Revolt and also the new Death Cab for Cutie, Plans. Both are really excellent. Though I am particularly fond of the newly discovered genius that is John Vanderslice. The first lines you hear on Pixel are: "Being Joan Crawford... at 21... was easy..." Need I say more? I think not. He is in the Badly Drawn Boy, Travis, etc. Camp of singer/songwriters. It been a while since I heard music that sounded this fresh and familiar. Tres sweet! Go get some! - The DC4C stuff is good, but I sort of expected it, you know? I have purposely avoided reading the lyrics to Plans because the Postal Service stuff was so uneven. I secretly think Ben used a lot of filler there, because the Cab rolls on and hits no bumps.

This is the part where I say my Prayers:
God grant me the Serenity to accept the fact that Joss Whedon now makes movies,
and the Courage to live in the same world as Lindsey Lohan,
and the Wisdom to know better than to live below the sea.
I wish for a Peace of the Cosmic Pie, hold the meringue...
Amen

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Skin and Bones

So there I am, naked, on the phone with Holly, expounding the virtues of blogging when I notice a horrible rash on my ass. Actually it goes all the way up my back. I have had a similar rash on my back before, but never in the nether regions. This is quite distressing.

"What did you sit in?" Asked Holly.

"My Underwear!" I replied.

I sat around in my hot, dark studio apartment for practically the entire week in my underwear drenched in sweat. Oh sure, I was eating lots of garlic and onions. And yes, I skipped a shower or three. And, of course, I cannot remember exactly how many times I changed my undies. But good grief! This is disgusting. No, I don't have air conditioning or even a swamp cooler. It's a Studio apartment. One room. A kitchen. A bathroom and a couple of closets. No air. No view. No nothing! The refridgerator is full of frost and leaky. I have a fan that is so covered with smoke and smog that when Jason saw it he said: "I didn't know you had a pet."

I start a new job tomorrow and I can't wait to spend a day somewhere that does not encourage fungi to attach themselves to my ass. Not that anyone is noticing anyway. And speaking of that... I lost about 45 pounds or so in the last year and now it hurts to sit down. My ass was never "all that" to begin with, but now it is so boney that it hurts to sit on hard surfaces for very long. There has to be an exercise I can do to make my butt more cushiony. I occasionally indulge in yoga, but that ain't working.

This would probably be a good time to mention that I am studying a lot of philosophical, new age, and scientific data that suggests that we create our reality through our thoughts and intentions. Now a novice would think that just bullstew because why, for instance, would I create a grody rash on my posterior? Why, indeed! Well, I'll tell you. The reality we create is based on these belief systems that we subscribe to. So, somewhere along the line I must have subscribed to a belief that gives me diaper rash. Hmm.... I have been sulking around like a baby and not facing up to my responsibilities recently. That could have something to do with it. I tend to think that this sort of quantum creationist theory is onto something because I have manifested some pretty spectacular stuff when I put my mind to it. Good, bad and ugly, I have done it all. So, there is much here to ponder. In the meantime, I am just skin and bones, sweating the shit out in my whities.

My Infinite Nature

So this is a place for me to put my shit out there in the universe and manifest my own reality and that, my friends, is precisely what I intend to do. I had recently bought a new journal and had only one entry in it when it occurred to me (via my fabulous friend Holly) that journals are so passe. She has this great blog and uses it in bewitching ways. I would put a link to it but I haven't learned how...yet. All in good, sweet time. The point is, I envied her blogging skills and grew to hate my new journal with all its empty pages, mocking me. Then after a recent conversation about how talent lends itself to learning new skills, I resolved to blog my way out of oblivion and set the Dude straight about a few things.

The Dude does not refer to Jeff Bridges character in "The Big Lebowski" (though I am fond of the film) but instead to the Universal Oneness that is Everything. My friend Chris coined the term "the Dude" as a quick and easy way to reference this all encompassing power without sounding too pretentious. I haven't quite co-opted it into my own vocabulary yet, as I have a problem with the singularly male connotations of "Dude." But I think it serves as a nice introduction to Chris as a presence in my life. I have only a small handful of friends, and you've actually now "met" practically all of them.

Holly is especially precious to me because she is a genius and has the ability to recognize genius (and stupidity) in others. She has been witness to many strange and wonderful things in my life, some of which she probably didn't want to see. We recently had a falling out over Post-Its - But alas, we are friends again. Hooray! This is dedicated to her, because Holly...without m- without YOU, I'm nothing!

I wanted to include this little exchange from "I Heart Huckabees" which goes like this:
"You can't deal with my infinite nature!"
"Yes, I can! Wait...What does that mean?"

What does it mean indeed?

Surrender Naturally

My friend Jason Ray and I recently went to an amusement park. Normally, I would not do this, but I like to think of myself as open to the experiences that life has to offer. I am the one on the right. Needless to say, I was not amused.

What I find strange is the huge difference in how we are both experiencing the same event. Jason is smiling, eyes wide open- clearly exhilarated by what is going on. I, on the other hand, white knuckled and terrified, do not cherish this moment. It is a snapshot. A moment in time, captured, and it will forever serve as a reminder of the true nature of how I am experiencing life on this planet. Much to my horror and dismay, Jason insisted that we buy keychains with this image on them. It was still early in the day and we still had many more rides to go on. I stared at that photo as we waited in line. This was not the image that I wanted. I made a resolution that I would consciously change my experience, that I would embrace it. I worked very hard on this as we rode several more roller coasters and I am happy to report that in the end, I was no longer shitting my pants.

It was a good day after all. I learned something about myself and about the nature of surrender. Though I don't see myself being hurled through the sky anytime soon, I know that I can choose my own reactions. I guess in a way, I do cherish this photo. Note to self: Stop Screaming and Enjoy the Ride!