How are you all doing? I hope you guys are doing so, so, well and are happy!!! I'm doing better. Things are looking up. Although it is really, really hot in my office right now and the air conditioning isn't working. I'm not a fan, fan, but I'm using one. Which reminds me I have to go check on my neighbor Eva, who's older. I had the fan on the ferrets to help cool them off and I've been worried about the kittens and the bunnies. My oldest cat Baby has had her summer haircut so she'll be able to handle this heat better. She looks like a big black lion, but I think I told you guys that before.
Okay so this isn't one of the Big Brother chickens but he's cute.
I am a huge chicken fan, I love them! We don't have any right now and I miss them so much. My big red Daisy who started the whole thing, when we found her wandering down a busy street one day, used to come inside and sit on my lap while I watched TV. I miss her so. *Sigh* So this is why I am loving The Big Brother live streaming chicken cam, but the one I'm watching is exclusive to AOL. Well, thank God for something good from AOL. It's just so much fun to watch the chickens pick around in the dirt and come over and rub up against the cam. They put their big fluffy orange butts right on top of the lens, it's hysterical. I wish I knew how to create a link for this so you could see what I'm talking about. I'd like to be able to call them back to the cam when they wander too far away. Hey you guys, don't streaming feeds have sound?
Look at this sweet picture of these wonderful Mille Fleur Bantam Chickens, I borrowed it temporarily from Lorin & Karen Benson so you could go see their hens, they also help with computers.
I'm pretty stressed about money but I'm working it out as usual. I just can't wait for the day when I have my own money without having to get it from my family.
It's not that I'm too proud to take it from my parents, I'm sure I'd feel better about myself if I were. It's just that after having spent a lifetime being told that one day I'll have this and that, it's just so seductive and hard to walk away from. So I stay here in this expensive house, playing all of these survival games. It's the dishonesty part of it that hurts my soul. Having to pretend I need money for this acceptable, necessary thing, in order to pay for these things that aren't deemed necessary, by people who are an entire generation away from being able to understand me because I am in my thirties and they are in their nineties. I am however very grateful, I want you to know that I thank the Deity/God/Goddess/Spirit/Nature/The Universe (which one do you guys use?) every single day for my path and the luck I've had. And I promise you that I am generous to a fault, seriously.
Just a few days ago I was freaking out about how I was going to send at least two huge mortgage payments for the sketchy nudie bar building I own and get my rent from. I was so scared but I just turned it over and believed that I would find it and I did. But I had to take too many risks and act against my own sense of ethics in order to do it. At this point I'm not at all set up to just say screw all of this, and move somewhere far away and get a job. It's not that I'm not capable of doing that, I have lots of work experience and I'm a wonderful, loyal, devoted employee. It's just this damned desire to be a working actor/artist/writer/director. Well, that and my beloved son, my helper/friends and their families who I support, and the fifty or so, cats, dogs, rats, ferrets, mice, birds, and fish we live with.
I really like my life here too. So I'm just going to keep working on improving it and finding a way to generate my own income without having to tie myself to a job that is so exhausting I won't have the energy to be a partner, friend, mother, artist gal.
I read about this artist retreat on the East Coast in this month's Vanity Fair. Oh God how I yearn for a vacation like that. Some stress free time, solely dedicated to the pursuit of one's art. I'd write and rehearse a one woman show and take photographs in the woods and write poetry and music and paint. Oh well, one of these days, eh?
I'm dyeing my hair wacky red again. Pillar Box red. And I put some on my nipples for the hell of it, because it seems to dye my skin a deep pink. I do this about once a year and then my mother or her friend, my not-aunt Jani, will say something mean or hurtful and the next thing I know I'm dying it dark brown again. I have the same problem with armpit hair. I have this passionate feminist belief about my right to have hair that grows naturally on my body and how horrible it is that men and women too have this creepy judgmental reaction to it, but of course I've given up the battle and now I bury it. I'm going to do something creative and great for Burning Man, I just haven't figured it out exactly yet. Something with lots of extensions and bright orange, red and pink thread wrapping and bells and beads and maybe pipe cleaners so I can bend it into a sort of medusa like thing.
I love that I'm getting into red's and oranges after years of having hated them. I think it has something to do with an acceptance of my sexuality and the vibration of those frequencies and their relationship to my chakras. Woohoo are you laughing and thinking what an LA kind of thing to say? Well, then go read Shirley Maclaine's new book, The Camino. It's really cool.
Hey guess what? After my sweet rattie had to be put to sleep, I went to the pet store and saved another one from callous pet owner snake death, and put her in with my other older rattie. They really didn't get along for about a week or so but the new rattie seems to have won her place. I like to give them snacks and share my morning oatmeal with them because they love it so much. The ferrets too. Everyone loved the oatmeal with the rice milk, it's fun to eat together. The Ratties pick up a piece of the wet oatmeal and roll it around in their hands looking for the best places to take a bite. They are so sweet. Stupid closed minded people who don't get how great rats can be. Oh and the best part of the story and the reason I brought it up is that today when I came into my office, I was worried about Lola (Rattie 2) because I realized I hadn't seen her since we got back from Palm Springs. So I opened her cage and lifted up the little house she hides in and surprise, rat babies. So either these are some kind of rattie miracle, or someone was having a wee bit o rat-sex before she joined our little zoo. Yeay, I've never had rat babies before. What fun. Now I just have to hope she won't panic and eat them.
This is Camille eating a cheeto, isn't she cute?
I have so much more to say but I'd better stop before drowning you in words. I want to spell words, werds, so badly but ana made that up, and I don't really get that whole, "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" concept. I think it isn't right to snag people's words. Okay me go see scary movie with Michelle Pfeiffer soon. Oh shoot it doesn't open till Friday, bah, I saw it on the marquee in Westwood last night and I was so excited, must have been the premiere. I've been thinking about Meg Ryan and Dennis Quaid. I've seen all three of them here in person so many times. At the market, the toy store, the kids dance classes, and at restaurants and the vet, so aside from their being actors whose work I see a lot of, I feel like they are a part of my community. I feel sad when people break up, but that's just probably my own projected stuff. I know that nothing I read can be accepted as truth but it still seems sad somehow.
Come to think of it, that jerk from the We The People Divorce Palace, was supposed to come by and pick up the check for the guy, who is going to go hunt down Robby, and serve him with the divorce papers. So I will finally be free, and won't have to feel tied to my cruel, selfish ex, and my fabulous sister-wife any more.
Okay well, I just wanted to check in and send all of you some hugs and kisses.
PS: Oh my God I just asserted myself with this guy I'm so mad at. Woohoo. He's a not-lawyer guy, who works for this company called We The People. Of course Mom with all of the resources at her command, didn't want to spend the money for a good divorce attorney, so she looked up the legal aid people and made an appt. for me to go, and practically shoved me in their door. This was about a year ago, I think. Then between my hurt and procrastination and their total ineptness, it just hasn't gotten done. They say they've sent the papers several times. But it would be just like my mother in law to steal them out of the mail, or Robby to pretend he never got them. I think they think if I die it will be to their advantage financially. Also Robby would much rather spend his money traveling around the country to various fencing tournaments (yes fencing the sport of geeks, I don't really dislike fencing but I just say that cause I'm angry and hurting and have a long history with Robby and his favorite sport,) than make any kind of a minuscule financial commitment as a father to his son and he would have to do that by law, as part of the divorce.
Anyway my mother's attorney was at her house yesterday going over all of the various trusts she wields and controls and keeps out of my hands, and they decided it would be a bad plan for me to keel over right now as Robby would then get everything and that would just kill my mother. So they wrote up this friendly little will for me and told me to put it in my own handwriting and light a fire under the cheapo legal aid people.
So I called We The Lame-Ass People, and asked the man I've been dealing with, to hire someone to try to hunt down my ex and throw the damned thing at him. He promised to come by last night or at the latest this morning and I left a check for him. Then as usual he got too busy and spaced it out. Doesn't that suck? How unfair is that? I spend a day and a night thinking any second, the man I lived with for sixteen years is about to get these painful papers thrown in his face, and the guy doesn't even show up or call. Great. So I called him and told him to get his butt over here. Of course he hemmed and hawed, (does anyone know what the hell that means?) and ended up throwing it back in my court and offering to do nothing more than stall some more. So I said, "No that's not acceptable! I'm going to need you to keep your commitment and come over here and get the check and serve the papers!" You can't imagine how foreign this is to me, but it worked and I'm so proud of myself. Jeez. I guess the deity wants me to be really certain I want this. Great.
Of course I have no intention of leaving their bizarre version of my last will and testament, wherein they have me leaving one dollar to Robby out of spite, and nothing to my beloved friend and partner Scott. To say nothing of what would happen to my son, my assistant pals, my pets, my possessions etc. And there's always the fact that I'm not planning on checking out any time soon. Maybe Mom's planning on hitting me with a bigger Cadillac next time ; ) Do they have a SUV Caddy?
Just got off the phone with Mom. Oh what a joy that always is.