Silence

Amy finally woke up. I feel like she read my last post, but I know that's not possible. The only person that has access to this blog now is Kate. I sent invitations to Larkin and Molly, but they haven't accepted it yet. Anyway, she told me she checked her Facebook, and Lori did send her a Happy Birthday message. So that's cool. I think in an earlier entry I said Lori wasn't talking to me anymore because she's all posh now or something, but I don't think that's true. I don't know why we don't talk anymore, but after reading through the past 16 years of my online journals, it probably has something to do with the fact that I'm a pretty shittie drug addict. Actually, Amy told me if she didn't love me she wouldn't have anything to do with me because my only focus is drugs.

I can't really deny that. Being sober sucks. I don't know what's wrong with me or when it started. I got an MRI the other day, because my new doctor thinks I'm a genius and wants to see my brain (ha). I'm just convinced that my pre-frontal cortex is obliterated. I have almost no self-control or motivation for anything that doesn't involve smoking cigarettes, getting high, flirting with guys, and occasionally playing my ukulele and singing. And now this. But I've decided I'm never going to allow it to go public because I don't want to negatively influence anyone. I mean, I don't want some teenager to think, hey, maybe if I live my life like this asshole, I'll be famous too. I wonder Kurt Cobain thought about that... probably not. Yva knew him, obviously. She either said that she saw him make out with a guy at a party or that if I had been around back then he would've made out with me at a party or both. I can't remember. It doesn't matter. See, there I go being a fucking drama queen.

I read something on Facebook the other day that gave a list of character traits that turn people off, and I had pretty much all of them. The only one I really remember was name-dropping. I remember when I used to crash/hang out at Aglago in Silver Lake that was a popular topic of conversation. But interestingly, it was always the transplants who were so anti-name dropping, and all of the natives were like teenage girls when it came to Hollywood gossip.

Speaking of Hollywood gossip and being a drama queen, I found a journal entry back in 2003 where I talked about going to some big New Years Eve party in Atlanta. I ended up going, and it was amazing. Danger Mouse (Brian, I think) was spinning, and everyone had a bottle of champagne. He played Outkast's Hey Ya, and everyone started going crazy and bouncing up and down. I was down in the basement, and champagne was leaking through the roof. Actually, that last bit may have been a false memory for dramatic effect, but there was definitely a lot of champagne spilled that night.

That was the night I met Clementine. It was Bob Lovett's party, I think, who was an old friend from Dublin. His brother Ben and this guy Jacob had made a movie called The Last Goodbye (great title--Jeff Buckley), which I never really watched, but starred Faye Dunnaway, David Carradine, and a bunch of children of famous actors, one of whom was Clementine. I think Clementine was dating Ben at the time, and Naomi or someone took me to meet her. I think Colleen was there or maybe Randall--I can't remember--but someone told me that she was Goldie Hawn's daughter, even though she was actually Cybil Shepherd's daughter. Anyway, that night is kind of a blur, but I do remember that she had brought back some Absinthe from Europe (this was before they legalized it here, if I remember correctly), and it was the first time I ever tasted it.

Before I digress too much, let me get to my point.

Later that year, super long story short, I started dating Paul, this fundamentalist Republican closet case who ended up working for Tucker Carlson. I catfished (before it was called catfishing) him on Craigslist to see if he was cheating on me, and he fell for it. I freaked out, got extremely wasted, and tried to slit my wrists. Then I found Paul's ex-boyfriend David online and started talking to him. We bonded over getting burned by Paul, so I flew out to West Hollywood and moved in with him. I pretty much slept all day and went out every night while David paid the bills and worked a full time job. I did help him re-image Jim Henson's sister's computers once. But other than that, I was a lazy fuck who was basically taking advantage of him, even though I seriously didn't realize what I was doing at the time. He was into me, so he let it happen until his best friend Joezen put an end to it and kicked me out.

I called Lori freaking out, not knowing what to do, so she called Clementine and told her to come pick me up. That was actually the first time I ever smoked an American Spirit cigarette. Anyway, I spent the night at Clementine's, and the next day she took me over to her mom's. That was the first time I had ever been to a famous person's house. I don't think I ever told her, but I was fucking obsessed with the Cybil show when I was in high school, so it was super weird for me. Cybil was shooting some sort of commercial in her living room, and her assistants had me watch her bedroom stairs to tell them when she was coming down. They also told me that if I hung around long enough, they'd get rid of my southern accent. As surreal as it was, unfortunately Clementine found out that day that her childhood nanny had died. All I remember was feeling bad for her and freaking out because she was driving really fast around Mulholland Drive and crying.

Anyway, the whole reason I brought up Clementine is because she was the first person to ever call me a drama queen. That really hit hard since she was the biggest literal drama queen I knew. At the time I think she starred in The L Word, which was such an awesome show. But my drama, unlike hers, was real and wasn't just for entertainment purposes.

I haven't talked to her in a few years--probably since I started having crazy delusions enabled by my ex-boyfriend that I was going to release an album of shittie songs I made up after learning how to play a few chords on my ukulele. I think I kind of blew up her Facebook. Actually, I really don't know why she stopped talking to me. There are so many possibilities. I was totally a drama queen. I still am, I guess. It's pretty fucking embarrassing at this point.

"Fifty states, fifty lines, fifty cryin all the times. Fifty boys, fifty lies, fifty I'm gonna change my minds. I changed my mind, I changed my mind. Now I'm feeling different. We were young, we were young, we were young, we didn't care. Is it gone? Is it gone? Or is it floating in the air? I changed my mind, I changed my mind. Now I'm feeling different. All that time... wasted. I wish I was a little more... delicate. I wish my, I wish my, I wish my, I wish my name was Clementine." - Sarah Jaffe

I heard that song for the first time the other day while I was taking a shower, and I cried for like an hour. It was really fucking weird.

I wish my head would stop pounding. I need to eat something, but I can't get anything down. I mean, I haven't tried, but that would most likely be the outcome.

Amy thinks I need to call Brandon and hang out with him, since he's sober now and he's been my friend for like 20 years. Speaking of Brandons, I found an old entry where I declared my love for a Brandon, but I have absolutely no idea what Brandon I was talking about.  I also realized there are like four different Justins I've mentioned, which would probably make things pretty confusing if anyone ever actually read this shit. I should probably go back and annotate the entries to clarify stuff. I'm thinking about finding a good psychologist and giving them access to my journals so they could possibly help figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. I wish it were just a simple case of drug addiction, but the fact that I had crazy delusions when I was on an anti-psychotic in rehab kind of rules that out. Who knows. Not me.

I'm going to stop typing now.