My mother is still in town and down at my sister's in Santa Monica, about 45 minutes away if the traffic is light which it never is. Ask me how many times Mom has called and asked me where something she owns is. In my sister's apartment. Like I can see from Hollywood through the walls of other people's apartments. Then when I say I don't know she gets all irritated and acts offended. Then she calls back and says "Never mind, I found it." AS IF I was still trying to find her eye drops/glasses/email in my free time. ACROSS TOWN. I always remind her I've lost 2 pairs of glasses in my own apartment and never found them. In French this apparently translates to blah blah blahblah blah blahblahblah.
I went to a free screening of Funny People thanks to BlogHer. I still walk down the darkened stairs of the Arclight movie theater as if I'm on a tightrope, reaching out and waving my arms until I land on something solid, like a seat back or a woman's chest, then tentatively put my foot out and pray there's no 20 foot drop-off. If someone filmed me doing this we could all laugh about it on Youtube. What bothers me the most is that I must still be harboring some fear and I hate that. I try and remember that fear is the opposite of faith but seriously, that just makes me more depressed. Did I mention there are lights on the stairs?
I spoke to Gladys Tells All because she and I were supposed to do lunch today but her interview at KTLA (channel 5 here in L.A.) is happening at the God forsaken hour of 8:45 AM and I can't bring myself to get out of bed that early to go drink a cup of coffee. She said she wouldn't have done it either so we spoke on the phone and I totally loved her. Mainly because she said my blog didn't offend her. GLADYS, PARTY OF ONE.
Our building is quiet, for once. I think everyone's on vacation. No McPoundersons, no chronic dog barking, no people screaming in the courtyard. But soon I'll be back Living Next To Hell.
End of chat.
