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May
19, 2004
12:09pm Wednesday
SIT
BACK ON YOUR THRONE, TURN OFF YOUR PHONE
I
find myself having conversations with my mom sometimes about whether
or not drugs should be legalized. She, supposedly starkly conservative,
says open it all up and let the pills and needles flow. I say no
way now how -- I remember what it was like walking through the streets
of Amsterdam crunching syringes underfoot and watching dopers sitting
in cafes wasting away their lives. Yeah, so it's an old subject
and kind of boring, and admittedly I'm coming from a teetotaling
anti-druggie place so my perspective is kind of skewed. I mean,
a month ago in the emergency room they wrote Gray a prescription
for Vicodin and we didn't even get it filled (much to the chagrin
of my neighbor with the knee pain who gets bottles of it from her
doctor and then sells the pills individually for pocket money.)
Don't fuck with drugs, that's what the hollow-eyed men on the streets
of North Hollywood tell me without saying a word.
But
right now I would pay a thousand dollars for one of those Vicodins
we didn't get, because my back is hurting like a motherfucker.
And
of course I'm a big drinker, which is fairly contradictory to everything
I just said, but I will argue to the ends of the earth that alcohol
is fundamentally different than drugs. And on a celebratory note,
I made really exciting margaritas on Saturday night for Gray's little
birthday party (good tequila, Minute Maid lime juice concetrate,
Cointreau = try it and you'll like it) and managed to get every
single person royally drunk in a good way, including Gray, who had
never been drunk in his life. That's right, you read it correctly,
married to me and he's never been drunk. Now I can check that off
my list.
===
You
may recall my talking about my ex-writers group friends who started
the production company to make short films in the Fall of 2003 but
haven't made one yet even though they keep having meetings and making
schedules. Well, I sent them each an email the other day telling
them my little movie is up on iFilm with a line meant to temper
any resentment they might feel -- ("now maybe I'll have a little
know-how to offer you guys") (because they invited me to join
their film cooperative) -- and not one of them wrote back. I know
they all check their email constantly, and they're net-savvy so
they've probably watched the movie, but nothing, not a word. I need
to stop expecting people to react the way I expect them to.
===
American
Idol is frustrating the crap out of me and I want it to be over,
already. There can only be one winner, and if it isn't Fantasia
then the whole world is upside-down. So if she wins, then it's boring,
and if she loses, then I'll get irate and never watch the show,
of which there will be plenty of sequels, again in my life.
===
The
book publishing world continues to be strange. I got a response
from a House in North Carolina saying they were kind of interested,
but sent no email address or contact name to correspond with. Is
this normal? Are they so small that if I write back (by snail mail,
no less) they'll know who I am and then we'll go back and forth
through the US Postal Service a few more times? It confuses me,
but also strikes me as kind of a quaint throwback. It's so Hemingway.
===
Definitely
and officially out of control.
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