Kansas Isn't Half Bad.

I actually even like it. Alot. This traveling thing isn't half bad. The people are nice. And funny. And real. And they forgave the fact that I shook when I first started talking about the line. Yes, I get the nervous the first time I do anything and it's been awhile. Yes, even that. Actually, especially that. I had fun. I kind of did the bonding thing with the Sephora people. Who have to endure 3 1/2 weeks of training before they can work at the store. Can you believe that? From 9-5. Every day. Can you say too much information? So I tried not to give too much but just enough. It's a balance. If I can't achieve it myself, I figure at least I can help others.

That brings up the food thing... The funny thing about make-up and skincare people is that they love sweets. They care about what they put on their skin and how they look-- but what they eat is not so great for them usually. According to one of the women today, they like to buy purses and shoes and make-up. And eat brownies and chocolate chip cookies. Me? I brought fruit... and brownies and cookies. I didn't want to completely alienate them. So the brownies? Gone in a heartbeat? Cookies? Those, too. And the fruit? Pretty close. I did bring Vitamin Water, too. I mean, there's sugar in that. Along with all the other good stuff. I thought maybe they wouldn't notice. And I did break a few of them down. They're even going to check out Whole Foods. Well, I figure Boscia is beauty from the inside out -- so you've gotta start somewhere.

Now I'm in my hotel room. Watching that Heather Locklear movie-- The Perfect Man. And it's making me cry. Yes, I am that pathetic. So I don't know why I want everything I write to be so different and meaningful and perfect. Maybe it's because I haven't had the perfect man or imperfect man long enough to realize what is different and meaningful and perfect.
There is a great line in there-- "I'm through with these people and I want new ones." How great is that? How ridiculously great? If only. Well, I like my people. I miss male people. I hope imperfect or perfect, that I get a new one soon. And if he's a keeper? Better yet. I'll even feed him brownies if he wants.

What's A Girl Like Me Doing in Kansas?

Yes, it's true. I'm in Kansas. That's something I never thought I'd say. Although AOL or some poll that AOL got its hands on says that it's one of the top five places to live. Not just Kansas, but Kansas City. Which is where I actually am. I landed yesterday. Yes, on Memorial Day. While others were barbecuing, I was driving around trying to find something to eat other than fast food or chain restaurant fare like TGI Fridays and Houlihans which don't really strike me as solo dining establishments. They don't really strike me as dining establishments period, actually. I'm kind of a healthy eater. And not really into chains-- chain stores, malls, mini malls, etc. Which translates to mean, I'm not really suburban girl. I'm kind of into the whole city thing. Where you can get unique things and interesting things. And better yet, where you can get what you want whenever you want it. Any time of day or night. Even if you do have to fear for your life when you're doing it. I like it. It adds excitement.

So I finally found a Whole Foods at 9:34pm which was actually 7:34pm in Los Angeles which was dinner time for me which didn't matter to them because it was 34 minutes after they closed. I love Whole Foods. I find it encouraging that it's in Kansas City. And comforting. I just got back from Denver and they had one there, too. And more Starbucks than I've ever seen in my life. Seriously. At every traffic light. In every mini mall and mall mall. Denver has a lot of malls. I don't really get that city. The selling point that some guy on the plane said for living there was sports. That doesn't fly with me. I don't surf or ski or watch anything on television where men hit or carry balls. I know. It's probably one of the many contributing factors to my being single. But what can you do?

I've been spending alot of time at malls lately. Doing the skincare thing. Which is far more interesting when you're gallavanting about to different cities. I like traveling and meeting new people. Talking to them. However I am a little nervous about doing this committed training thing today at Sephora. Speaking to a group of perfectly made up people who have yet to experience a fine line. They're very corporate there. And very serious. I'm not very corporate. Or serious. At least not at the times most other people are. I'm hoping they won't notice. I have gotten a bit better at the stage fright thing. I did another testimonial. Yes, apparently some people think my opinion or experiences might translate to the masses. Who knew? At least I figured out this time that if I don't look in the mirror and think about what I look like, I can get through it without looking like a total moron. Which was much easier this time because it wasn't about skincare. So I didn't feel self conscious about it-- like "does my skin really look good enough for me to be saying these things to total strangers?" And also, the director this time wasn't hot. So I wasn't embarrassed. He was an older man who came with an older cameraman and even older sound guy and shot me in the comfort of my own home. The make-up girl did add a little too much powder, which I saw in the creases around my eyes after the fact. But I felt like I was at least fairly articulate. I think being at home helped. I wonder if everyone from Sephora would mind flying out to my home? Probably. Bummer, huh?

I think I should face facts, I'm more of a one-on-one or behind the scenes girl. How I ran for office in elementary school, junior high and was a cheerleader in high school is a mystery to me. Not the bandwagon I would jump on now. Usually I can perform if I'm passionate about something or know what I'm talking about. We'll see. Perhaps I'll just be honest with them and say I'm nervous. I wish we could do it over cocktails. Now that would be fun. Perhaps not great for long term retention of information, but fun.

I do get to bring food. I'm thinking Whole Foods. I'm thinking I'll buy leaves that show what's in the products. I like visuals. That came in handy when I did the wine promotion thing. Plums and fruit and such. Since they couldn't drink the wine I had to do something that gave people an idea of what I was conning them into buying. It's in my script. And in the story I sold to the Los Angeles Times Magazine. Yep, when that puppy comes out-- which it seems it actually will since I got a bonafide contract and everything in the mail-- everyone who ever knew me will see just how painful that fall from grace was. Hopefully they'll also be entertained. I'm excited about the contract. And that the essay is about me and my humiliating experiences. It's nice to know that they're at least worth $500. I got an essay accepted by Fresh Yarn over a year and a half ago and it was never published. They didn't pay, but I was excited any way. It was about the ex-convict and our relationship. It's called "I Dated An Ex-Convict Until He Wanted His Freedom." I'm kind of bummed it never ran. But maybe it wasn't meant to. I'm using that material in other places. I actually could write a book and probably will. He's a good story. Then and now. But maybe I'm not the one meant to tell it. Hard to tell. I think I'm going to start sending it out again.

Okay. Off to coat myself with layers of make-up so as to give the impression I belong in the world of cosmetics and beauty care. Or at least to hide my flaws/age/lines/self. Next trip, I'm thinking I'll dress as a leaf. Now that would be something.

I Want More.

Today I had a terrible realization. Actually, I had it yesterday, I was just too tired to write since my allergies are bad and when they're bad I can't think. Well, not creative thoughts. Just other thoughts about other things. Like how I want more. How I am SO incredibly excited about the Los Angeles Times Magazine buying my essay. But after that initial excitement wore off, I needed to write more. And make more happen. That just one story will not change my entire life in quite the way, say getting married would or selling a book or a screenplay.

I tried to make it mean that. When it happened, I ran into the bathroom where Kelly was getting ready, my laptop in hand and screen on the email from the editor. And she read it. She was super happy for me. And we were both happy for awhile. But then she had to go grocery shopping and I had to get back to work. But I wanted that happy feeling to continue. This is the first thing I've been paid for writing-wise in 5 years. I thought to myself, who else can I call? Everyone in my phone book, that's who. But only a few friends were there. And while they were excited for me, they were living their lives and had things to do. And that's when I realized the more of it all. It's still only one part of the equation.

When I was doing well and making money and all that other stuff, I was lonely as hell. And every night when I crawled into bed, I thought about how lonely I was because accomplishments are things to be shared-- as is a life. And while my friends love me, they don't love me in that way. In that, I'm going to take you to dinner to celebrate, buy a nice bottle of wine and then have great sex with you way. That's the way I would like to be loved. I would even settle for even a kiss actually at this point. One that meant something, that is. One that meant I'm happy something good happened to you. Or, I'm happy to see you, I'm happy you exist and I'm happy we're together. Even just, I'm happy to have sex with you. Okay, I know, enough with the sex stuff. But sex without meaning is meaningless after awhile or just depressing. At least from my limited experience. And yes, I am reminded time and time again of just how limited my experience is.

That being said, when I'm not getting that -- which is pretty much always-- that's when I think of the other things I want. Like glasses that aren't crooked, sunglasses, a purse, a wallet, a comforter cover, a vacation. Things that I haven't had or replaced in a good five years. Which if I got the other stuff, I wouldn't care so much about giving myself. It's very Pavlovian. Stimulus. Response. Now I know why I bought those cute clothes when I was on the show. It was my way of saying good job (even though I knew that before). It was also my way of giving myself something I'd never had and at the simplest level, having something fun to wear so when the man of my dreams does show up-- finally-- I'll look good.

A Funny White Guy With Rhythm

My friend Kristine sent me this. And it's hysterical. Really. Just make sure you have your speakers on!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg&eurl

More tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. Yeah, I know. You care.

They Bought the Milk!

I just got confirmation. I've been bought by the Los Angeles Times Magazine!!!! Oh, happy day.

So Close to Feeling the Love or What a Difference a Response Makes

So I got a nice rejection email last week from "Self" Magazine. From this incredibly nice editor who told me that they all liked my essay-- I Blog Therefore I'm Not Alone-- and it was close, but ultimately they passed. She told me to send more stuff over and to pitch more. Which is good. And I know it's good that she responded. Really. Close is closer. To feeling the love.

And then I got another email from an editor at another publication-- which shall remain nameless so as not to jinx it-- yes, I'm covering all my bases including the jinxing ones-- who said if I can cut my essay (a different one) by 300 words, they'd buy it. Which would mean publishing it. Which would make me a paid writer again. That would actually be feeling the love. I haven't felt the love in a very long time.

So I spent Saturday cutting. I got help from my friend Cheryl who read and crossed out and mailed me her copy. And Kelly who read draft after draft helping me find words I didn't need. A writer and a reader who were invaluable to me. And I'm so thankful for them because it made it so much easer to fix and finesse until I felt the love for my shortened piece. This morning, I sent it off. Fingers crossed.

It's amazing what a difference a response makes. Just hearing back. Encouragement and all. It's well, encouraging. Last week I got a lot of it. Encouragement from a friend and development exec on my screenplay who made me realize it's a story worth telling--and from various other people. I feel like I'm kind of on the right track here. What with my strange little schedule of writing and reading and working on the t-shirt stuff and selling Boscia to the world. It's enough to make me want to be out in the world. And I have been. And lately, I've found I'm liking it much more out there. And in here. Little Will and Skunk are playing and sleeping together. My sister, her husband, kids and my father and I had dinner together. And it was a good week all around.

Big Love.

Okay. I'm sick. But that's not why I'm into Big Love. It's kind of cool. Kind of quirky. And clearly, I have not dated in over a year, so polygamy at least provides an option. These women have babies and sex lives and houses and help. Okay, okay, there's a completely unbelievable sisterhood and an even more unbelievable absolute minimum of jealousy and let's be honest-- it's hard enough to afford one house let alone three. There are also no pets to be found. What's that about? I like my pets. Of course, these women are already juggling sex and babies. So the whole taking care of pets thing might be another fish that they don't have time to fry. Maybe that can be the spin-off after season 8: Big Pet Love. Interconnected houses with a whole Noah's Ark full of pets -- shared pet duties and cuddling schedules after their Bill Paxton leaves them and they're left as a new breed of single women-- polygamist divorcees. Hmmm... Do polygamists divorce each other and does anybody really care or for that matter, notice when you have that many wives to choose from or you're just one of many? I will say, Bill Paxton is a pretty doting guy for a wife juggler. Well, what I would consider doting. And I'm guessing polygamists wives have lower standards than me. So perhaps divorce doesn't happen in their world. These and other things are what I think about when I'm sick.

I went to a date party with a Mormon once. He was hot. A swimmer at UCLA. I asked him to go with me through some intricate process of putting fortunes I wrote into fortune cookies which involved pulling the old ones out with tweezers and stuffing the new ones I created inside. And yeah, I should probably be embarrassed. But he told me he'd go with me by ripping the bottom off of his dorm room mattress and painting, "We're There" on it. It was hanging in my doorway when I opened the door in the morning-- wearing yes, glasses -- those ones not crooked, but me younger and if possible, more self conscious. So I slammed the door shut, got ready and opened it up again. Just in case. Like he would have waited if he had been standing there, right?

The effort went to waste-- being that he didn't drink. Poor guy. Because we all did. Bunch of lushes. And me? I spent so much time trying to drink around him aka so that he wouldn't notice that I drank way more than I should have. (Remember Meg Ryan in When A Man Loves A Woman?) Anyway, I just remember my friend was dressed up as a cyclist and had a water bottle full of vodka and kept squirting it into my drink. And my other friend had a canteen. Me? I don't remember what I had. Which--if you think about it-- could have had me waking up on some compound as a polygamists wife. If only.

Let This One Go or How Lucky Can I Get

Today I woke up at 7:19am. Which was late for me. And too late when I had to move my car from a tow zone before 7:00am. See, Highland? She would NEVER let me sleep past 6:30am. It was always meow meow meow aka rise and shine. Water for her, coffee for me and food for us both. Well, Little Will isn't insistent like her. He cuddles. So I cuddle back. Thank God he cuddled at all. The cuddling made me put on my glasses and look at the clock and jump out of bed and run like mad to my car where a tow truck was attached and a policeman and tow truck driver were standing by. Me? Wearing a not so lovely see through tank top and cropped sweats, glasses and no make-up -- scaring them and the Hasidic Jewish man I raced by with my breathless shouts of, "please don't tow me." The policeman? Well, he said to the tow truck driver, "Should we let this one go?" The tow truck driver just looked at him. The policeman said, "We can probably get a few for you up on Normandy." The tow truck driver looked at me and my crooked glasses and what little breasts I have and said, "Let's go to Normandy." I just thanked them profusely. Oh, so profusely. Got in my car, parked it and thought, "How lucky can I get?"

Then I came in the house and saw Little Will's new girlfriend. Well, the girlfriend I picked for him. It's like internet dating but for cats. She's black and white and precious. Her name is "Skunk." She's a Pisces. I thought they'd get a long. Different sex, sexually immature. And playful. This is her picture. Next to Little. He looks so big next to her. The funny thing is, they're both kittens. And they seem to be getting the hang of hanging out pretty well. So oh, happy day. I think Will is happy because shortly after the towing incident this morning, he brought in a baby bird. He's never done that. So either, he thinks he's the man of the house now and needs to feed us or he's giving us a gift and saying "thank you." The good news? The bird lived. And flew away. And we thanked Will profusely. Then he and Skunk both decided to rest. Next to each other. Which I thought was adorable and made me sad at the same time about Highland. They did that, too. And I was lucky to have her. So lucky.

I am lucky for alot. Yesterday my dad helped me with a lot of the legal shit for my company. I've been working on the business plan and have been overwhelmed with licensing agreements and stuff and terms and contracts... And lawyers aren't cheap. And I owe mine money. But my dad? He's a damn good lawyer. Worked for Mobile Oil and Toyota. And he explained everything to me and in a way I understood. And helped me to focus. And it was a beautiful and weird thing for me. And I told him that he didn't have to. That our relationship isn't predicated on what he can do for me. But he seemed to enjoy it. And it was fun to hang out with him. And then when I got home? I got a residual check. For $234.76. Okay, so it won't buy me new glasses, but it will buy me groceries and buy me time. And I was ecstatic. Because the business plan writing makes the regular writing have to go on the back burner. And I want to do the regular writing. But one thing at a time, right?

So mom? Not impressed by the small residual check and not so happy that I'm talking to Dad. The whole forgiveness thing? Well, 30 years later, it hasn't happened. She doesn't care if he's changed. Because she hasn't. Argh. I'll admit, I did kind of like that idea of my two parents sitting down to dinner with me. I don't think that's going to happen. No matter how much my mom says she wants me to happy. She's still angry. Still hasn't let go. And doesn't want us to have our father in our lives. Even though she married the man. She procreated with him. I told her that and also mentioned that forgiveness is different than forgetting. But that healing is something we all need to do. She didn't buy it for a minute. She wouldn't let this one go. So she's said some not so nice things to me. And not so nice things to my sister. She's on the attack. Which is too bad. One of my friends lost her father yesterday. And he was a wonderful father. And I feel for her. Because she recognized it. And she was a good daughter to him. Her life will never be the same but it will be so much better because he was ever in it at all. Because at the end of the day, everyone should have good fathers and mothers. If only for a time. If only.

Things I'm Thankful For

1. My friends are still here. God bless them.

2. Little Will is still alive. And cute. And loving.

3. Good root jobs. They make me look richer in more than friends and animals.

4. Wine. And the cute guy at Ralph's who told me what I already knew about wine. Frankly, he could have told me anything about anything. I would have been listened.

5. Workouts. Like yoga and hiking and tae bo, oh my. And that I can go.

6. Email. For when you can't face the phone. And shouldn't. Oh let's face it. Sometimes email is a bad idea, too. I still like it. Mistakes happen for a reason.

7. Perfume. I just bought some for the first time in four years. It makes me feel like a woman. Or at least like I smell like one.

8. Books. Hardcover books. New books. Old books.

9. Writers.

10. Creative types.

11. Good genes.

12. Bad genes.

13. Hope.

14. Messed up people.

15. Non-messed up people.

16. Fashion.

17. Inspiration.

18. Bubble baths.

19. Forgiveness.

20. My grandma and grandpa.

21. My memories.

22. My lack of memory.

23. Rain.

24. Sunshine.

25. Residual checks. (Where are you my little green envelope?).

26. Parents who listen.

27. My parents when they listen.

28. The fact that I can say parents, plural.

29. Children. And their sense of play.

30. The fact I still have a sense of play.

31. My blog. For giving me a reason to write.

32. People who read me. For giving me a reason to write.

33. Movies.

34. Ideas.

35. Women.

36. Men.

37. I'm not working at XXX XXXX Publicity.

38. Or a Beverly Hills boutique.

39. Or Costco.

40. Or Taco Bell.

41. I've had good doctors. Who got me better. And they don't need to get better in that way anymore. Not physically. Not mentally.

42. Writers write lines like the one in Bridget Jones when Mark Darcy says, "I like you just the way you are."

43. I still believe that I might hear those words from a man.

44. Or at least I can write them so I can imagine them being said by a man that I've made up to a woman that I've made up who all too closely resembles me.

45. I have 45 things to be thankful for. (And I'm sure there are more...!)

Things I Learned This Week

1. It's easier to find a girlfriend for a cat than it is to find a boyfriend for a girl.

2. Three year-olds and six year-olds are fun. And they relate to me.

3. I like that about three year-olds and six year-olds.

4. Little Will has a friend that is a possum. And a friend that's a female neighbor.

5. Baths are more fun with bubbles.

6. Baths are even more fun with someone else.

7. Being minimized is not so fun.

8. Having to tell people not to minimize you is even less fun.

9. I like to be out in the world.

10 . I like it better when I'm out in the world with men. Whether I know them or not.

11. I have lots of good girlfriends.

12. It's strange to suddenly have a dad when you've only ever had a father.

13. It's even stranger when you relate to your father and like it. After twenty years of not seeing or talking to him.

14. Families are exhausting.

15. My family is particularly exhausting. Particularly now.

16. I would love to have my mother and father sit down and have dinner with me.

17. My two parents have never sat down at the same table and had dinner with me. Really. Not since I was four years old.

18. Writing business plans suck.

19. To forgive isn't hard. But to talk about what needs forgiving is.

20. Writing is wonderful.

20. There are alot of gorgeous men out in the world.

21. Gorgeous isn't always enough.

22. Going to dinner is a beautiful thing.

23. Being taken to dinner is a gift.

24. Allergies suck.

25. When people ask me if I have children I've decided that's a compliment. Because they see me having what I want.

26. It would be nice to have what I want.

27. It would also be nice to have compliments.

28. Some relationships come to an end.

29. And that's sometimes a good thing.

30. This week is important. Fingers crossed.