On the 12th day of Christmas...

The Universe gave to me...

Reconnection.


With someone I had an instant connection with in school. My friend James. In retrospect, we've spent more time apart than we did together but that three year bond from high school still turns out to exist. When we're together we revert back to an essence of who we were while still being the adults we've become. But there's an unspoken trust, an unspoken language that moves between us. It's such a relief to just be able to 'be' with someone.


Merry Christmas to all...and to all a good night.

My 100th Post!!! For Michael C on Project Runway

If you're reading this, imagine balloons and streamers falling all around you. Woohoo!

I still love Project Runway and I think it's back on sure footing after it's move from Bravo and to LA. They're back in NYC where they belong and have the best judging panel on TV if you ask me. Michael Kors is a walking sound bite but also one our greatest designers. Heidi, Nina Garcia, Michael Kors and Tim Gunn all now their stuff and their critiques are always insightful and help the design contestants improve their work. The show is a super-sized 90 minutes now, which allows for more drama (something reality watchers crave) but I really enjoyed the expanded version this week because we got to see how the judges were prepping the final 4 for Fashion Week. They gave each of them suggestions for improving their chances on the runway. Loved Heidi's comment to Gretchen about putting her models in high heels to avoid the "Schlumping along" and adding to the already "Holly Hobby-ish" looking collection. More than anything, these judges make me wish I could sew!

But, I'm really writing about this because the elimination of Michael C. was so wrenchingly sad. I feel like these four finalists - Mondo, Andy, Gretchen and Michael C. have more riding on the outcome than any other contestants in the history of the show, in my opinion. Each of them has sacrificed pretty much everything for their dream and gone balls to the wall to make them come true. Each of them feels like if they don't make it to Fashion Week, it's over for them and they have nothing to go back to. Michael more so than the others in a way because he still struggles with believing in himself and allowed the slings and arrows of the less talented haters really get under his skin...Ivy, I'm looking at you bitch. He made it to the final 4 but when he was eliminated, I felt his despair like a knife. He was thinking about how his family was now going to insist on him finally "giving up and moving back home." Like the show was his last chance at his dream and now that he only made it to 4th, it's time to get a job at Home Depot and stop the fantasizing!

I've been there. More than once. The last time was a year ago. Everything came crashing down with a deafening crescendo. You can only rise from the ashes so many times and I had done so much work, put in so much passion to rebuild after the previous crash - all the while telling myself it was all or nothing. Big stakes. And at my age, to have it burn to the ground again...I did give up. I was done. I wanted out. I shut down completely. I was, frankly, planning to kill myself...Obviously, I didn't. One person stopped me. But I wasn't really living either. I denied myself everything. Stopped taking care of myself. Punished myself for "failing." Living without my dream wasn't living. It felt like I had been pushed out of heaven.

Slowly, verrry slowly, I started to recover. I've washed off the sack cloth and ashes I had forced myself to wear and try hard to not be so hard on myself. The flame that I ground out so viciously is flickering and growing bigger and warmer again. My body and mind are still pretty fatigued at the thought of pushing the boulder up that hill again but what choice do they have? Because there's no way I can walk this earth and not be going after what I came here for. So, all you fragile creative spirits that have been crushed...as desolate as it seems, you'll have no choice but to reemerge and flower once again. We are the flowers of this earth. Like nature herself, we are supplying the earth with her beauty. I see your beauty and I'm happy that you're here.

I love you.

To all the Gays I've loved before

I've been a Hag since 1971. What's a hag? A woman who keeps company with gay men. Usually the Fag/Hag relationship is very similar to the Girlfriend/Boyfriend relationship (see Will & Grace). In the years since I became Original Hag, it seems as though our modern fags (offended? stop reading) have become even more narcissistic and self involved. It became all about having the most ripped upper torso - why oh why do they always neglect their calves? - having the tightest whitest shorts for Palm Springs. From what I can tell, at least here in L.A...the younger generation of gay men (and I'm talking about 30's & younger) have no integrity - especially when it comes to cherishing their Hags. Hags today seem to have become like fag "coordinators" who's job it is to "assist" their pod of gays by telling them how fine they are, not minding being ditched at a club without a ride and taking millions of pictures at the seemingly inexhaustible "pride" events and then posting them on whatever the most popular social network of the moment is. I lost my taste for hagdom when I realized they were getting more out of the relationship than I was and wanted it that way.

Having recently reconnected with my Orignial Fag, I was reminded of how it used to be. As a strong, independent woman in the entertainment business believe me, I've had to learn to fend for myself. So, it was with surprise and a strange deja vu that my Saturday night unfolded. My Original Fag - who I'll call Bear Daddy - cuz that's what he is now - picked me up, drove us to the club, took my hand and kept me with him through the dense dancing crowd, made sure I had a drink, fed me, stood guard while I peed...what more can I say. He is a gentleman. I think that's the core of it. Gay, straight, whatever - there's a courtly-ness missing from today's men. At first, I resisted allowing him to lead me and guide me and protect me - it was so foreign! But since I'm all about staying open to and absorbing new opportunities and experiences these days - I made myself get past it and realized, I like it. No LOVE it!

So to all the Gays I've loved before. None of whom will read this, I'm sure...because if it's not about them they don't care...take a hint. You're not always going to be young and beautiful. So unless you've become verrry successful and can make the transition to "Daddy" status, soon you'll be homo-non-grata AND you won't have a good Hag to turn to.

Holding out for a Hero

I just started reading "Wicked Lovely" by Melissa Marr. A story about "Faery intrigue, mortal love and the clash of ancient rules and modern expectations". And of course the girl has a friend who is a rogue, a man who lives on the outside of society but who is fiercely loyal and protective of her. A man, who although a player, is sweet and sensitive and so perceptively tuned in to her that he and only he can penetrate her inscrutability and help her with her tortured secret. This is the why we women adore these stories. It's why the Twilight series (in all it's maudlin longing) and probobly every romance novel ever written are so popular with women. Because we all want that man. We all want that sense of having rare and cherished access to a creature considered either dangerous or unattainable by all others. And the feeling that we get when such a creature shelters us in his arms. We want Heathcliff, we want Edward (well I don't), we want Rhett, Sawyer...we want to hear "Stay alive whatever the cost, I will find you!" or "I have crossed oceans of time to find you".

I was compelled to write this in the middle of my reading the first chapter because a deep sadness overcame me and I needed to explore why. I have been fortunate or unfortunate enough (depends who you ask) to have experienced this sort of grand romance. It's what's spoiled me for all others. It's why I know that Plenty of Fish or any other dating site isn't going to work for me. Because even now, with the wisdom of past experience, I'd still rather take all the bad that comes with this kind of good than settle for hum drum. And make no mistake about it, most men are hum drum to me. And I tried hum drum, even married hum drum once. His hum drum-ness didn't grow on me, it grew into contempt. I didn't just want to divorce him...I wanted to kill him.

Bonnie Tyler said it best

I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero 'till the end of the night
He's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero 'till the morning light
He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life

Sigh.

When a Man loves a Woman

I was driving home last night and "When a Man loves a Woman" came on the radio. My knee jerk reaction was to change it. Why? Because that song is strongly connected to a past relationship that did me more harm then good and who wants to be reminded of that? The irony of this is that the song is also connected to one of the most romantic moments of my life...within that same relationship. So, I've been denying myself the sweet memory of that moment for years in order to avoid the bitter. No more. I allowed myself to listen and feel the moment again.

While at Fox I got involved with a married executive in my department. My first and last married man. Our attraction was immediate...in fact the first time we saw each other, it really was the thunderbolt. We carried on in secret, for three years...break ups and make ups on a grand scale. Of course our entire department knew...you can't hide relationships from people that you spend up to 80 hours a week with...and like a family, everyone protected that secret. And as with every illicit affair, I suffered emotionally from being in love with someone that would never fully be mine. Cut to the studio Christmas party. These were lavish, evening affairs (no pun intended) held on a sound stage with sets from one of the studio's big movie's out that year. In 1990, it was Edward Scissorhands. A bacchanalia of gourmet food and excellent liquor, a 20 piece band to dance the night away to and...no spouses or outside guests. Do you think there was A LOT of cheating going on?

While the band was taking a break, a DJ started spinning records. Now, even though our affair was unacknowledged common knowledge, we were still always very discreet in public...so when the song began to play, I had no idea what was about to happen. He took my hand and led me onto the dance floor and held me close and we danced...in front of the entire studio...in front of our bosses and our colleagues...and he sang the words softly into my ear. It was a fairytale moment, a movie moment, a romance novel moment...but also an honest moment. I closed my eyes and as Percy Sledge sang, there was no one else on earth...we were floating on air.

So last night, in my car, on the 101 fwy...I had a breakthrough. I was able to listen to the song and enjoy that memory and honor it for what it was...one perfect, magical moment of true love. I was able to put aside whatever else I might think or feel about that person or the relationship as a whole. And the great thing about having memories like that to draw upon...is that it rekindles our belief in love.

TRUST

Today's entry is going to be somewhat disjointed but as a fun little exercise, I'm going to try and tie it all together somehow. Here we go...

Less than eight days after winning an Oscar, Sandra Bullock's world has been rocked again but in a vile and nasty way.

I have a kind of sixth degree of separation with Sandy (as tout le Hollywood calls her). First, we share German ethnicity. Unlike me (who kept it under wraps) she was always open and proud of her German mother and heritage. Second, I was a production executive at 20th Century Fox TV when she was cast as television's version of Tess McGill in Working Girl. She was a last minute replacement for then BIG star Nancy "Facts of Life" McKeon and this was gonna be her "big break". In what's become known as her signature ethic of hard work, humility and kindness, she charmed and wowed all of us. And btw, she never believed the hype. The show was predictably awful but it did put her on Fox's radar and on the path to movie stardom. That was 1990. After a little movie called "Speed" shot her into the stratosphere, she became one of America's sweethearts and has remained such. When she met Matthew McConaughey on "A Time to Kill", sparks flew but their friendship lasted long after. I later worked with Matthew on "The Wedding Planner" and remained in contact with him and his partner Gus for quite a while. When Sandra began dating Jesse James, her friends (including Matt and Gus) were all very concerned for her. From the outside looking in, concern seemed like a good idea.

Six years later, on Oscar night, it seemed like the sweet, satisfying culmination of both her career and her personal life as she accepted her award with Jesse sitting proudly in the front row. I felt such joy for her then, because it looked like she had beaten the odds. And Jesse had become the poster boy for bad boy turned good man.

When Sandra told Barbara Walters that before Jesse, no one had ever had her back before, I for one knew how valuable that is and it gave me hope. My own little heart was just starting to poke it's head out - like a turtle out of it's shell - finally feeling like it might be ready to trust someone, if that someone came along...then...WHAMMO. The fucking around is bad enough. The fucking around without a condom is heinous. But the broken trust. That's the one that's gonna leave a mark. A collective mark on everyone who looked at the lady and her biker and thought "If they can do it, I can do it."

Fess Parker has died. Honestly, I haven't thought about him in a loooooooooong time. And all the obituaries keep talking about "Davy Crockett" which was a little confusing to me at first. Because I knew him as "Daniel Boone". It was the only show I was allowed to watch as a 10 year old (besides "The Wonderful World of Disney") and even then, it was always a nail biter as to whether my parents would capriciously take that privilege away from me at the last minute.

Once, in an incident that was probably the beginning of my trust issues (aha!), my dad put me out of the house in my underwear. It was summer and we were eating dinner. I can only assume I was in my underwear because it was hot...or - come to think of it, my mother may have made me eat in my underwear so I wouldn't splash spaghetti sauce on my clothes...I swear to you, that just popped into my head. Being fastidiously German, she'd think of something like that. Frankly the summer heat/underwear at the dinner table scenario never made sense to me before...but I remember him grabbing me by the upper arm and forcing me out onto the front porch - slamming the door behind me. As I sat on the stoop, the feelings of fear and humiliation washed over me. I remember praying none of my friends would see me out there. It's hard to play off white underwear and undershirt as anything but what they are...suddenly, this thought popped into my head "Daniel Boone is on!"That spurred me into action. There was no time to waste. I marched myself over to the next door neighbor's house...Now these neighbors and my parents had an uneasy relationship. They were German as well but considered "lower class" by my parents. The man liked his drink and used to cut holes in our hedges. They had two daughters. One who routinely butchered the violin every afternoon and the other, who we called Ilona Balona, famously caught the crotch of her baton twirling outfit on fire trying to straddle a flaming baton (the original fire crotch!)...so, I can only imagine the secret satisfaction the woman felt when she came to the door and saw me standing there in my underwear, lower lip a quiver. She didn't let her feelings - whatever they were - show on her face as she let me in.

I asked if I could watch Daniel Boone with them and to their credit, they were very kind to me. The man pulled up an ottoman for me. The woman offered me a t-shirt. Both daughters came out of their room to join us and for awhile we all sat and silently watched Fess Parker. During a commercial break, the woman asked me what had happened and I told them. Near the end of the episode, the woman must have gone into the other room and called my mother because before long, she showed up to collect me...and she was angry. Angry that I had dared leave the porch, angry that I had embarrassed them by airing our dirty laundry to the neighbors and angry that I had sat there and calmly watched Daniel Boone. But, I wasn't calm inside. I was scared and embarrassed and MAD. And my trust had been broken...I'm just glad that I had Daniel Boone to propel me into action that day. Thanks for that Fess Parker.

A friend recently pointed out that it's no wonder I love TV so much now...because I was never allowed to watch it. Which is probably true. And that love led me to work in the business...which has led me to my current predicament...one that many of us are sharing. Shrinking business, runaway production, blah, blah blah...which brings me to this non sequitur...there's a potential job, a movie in the offing...it's not real yet, they may not get the budget where it needs to be, they may not get all of their financing...but it has potential because it involves someone who knows me and what I can do. We've worked together successfully in the past but had a falling out over a year ago...mostly due to my feelings of betrayal. We've very recently started speaking again and now this potential job is out there and I am wrestling with just being able to trust (tadaa!)...So I'm on my way home last evening - driving against the sun and zoned out -

suddenly the sun flashed brilliantly off the roof of the car in front on me - dragging me back into the present moment. As I blink and refocus my eyes I notice the license plate on that car.


It's from the state where the movie is supposed to shoot...and at that very moment, Journey's "Don't Stop Believin" begins to play on my radio.

TRUST.

On the 12th Day of Christmas...

My Universe gave to me...

Sundays with Bianca

Here we are...the final day of Christmas...I've saved my best, most important gift for last. My daughter Bianca. Some of you may have heard our story before but it's Christmas and it bears repeating.

When I was young and running around like an Untouchable, I got pregnant. Back then, my life was so crazy that missed periods were pretty standard. This was before in home pregnancy tests (Jeez) and I'd go to the doctor's office quite often for the "Rabbit Test." I can't recall what the Rabbit Test was exactly...something about peeing on a rabbit and if it turned blue you were pregnant?...the tests were always negative. So, I let my guard down a bit and ignored a few missed periods. And then discovered, this time, I really was pregnant...22 weeks pregnant. Because the baby had been conceived during a time that my husband and I weren't together, I knew there would be drama... and there was.

He wanted me to get an abortion...Thankfully, there were no clinics willing to do it so far into the pregnancy...Imagine if we had still been in L.A....the land of late trimester abortions...but the Universe was on full alert and protected this baby. He gave me a choice... Keep the baby and lose my husband...something I couldn't face. So, reluctantly I turned to thinking about giving the baby up and had started making calls. Then a miracle happened. He came home one night and took me in his arms and said that the baby was a part of me and he would love it as he loved me....so, she was born...but not before there had been several near disastrous accidents. These are stories for another time but, briefly...I took a spill on a motorcycle and also fell down a full flight of stairs in my eighth month. Neither incident fazed Bianca.

I've once in while wondered, had he known that having her would ultimately cause me to leave him, would he have had that change of heart? But no matter, Bianca was meant to be born and everything lined up to make sure that happened. Having her saved my life to be sure. The kind of life I was living doesn't end in a rocking chair on a nice porch somewhere.


So, we were bound together in a cosmic contract. Something wants us both here. And it is this bond, this unspoken contract that has brought us this far. And she continues to save my life...just by existing. It's been frustrating for me during dark times...I who am no stranger to suicidal thoughts. Frankly, I'm not a fan of hanging around "just in case" things turn out alright...the powers that be obviously knew this about me and exercised the Bianca Clause on me.

Now, during this darkest of years, 2009...my Sundays with Bianca have been my lifeline. Oh, we text and email and Facebook and talk on the phone pretty much daily...but she's a gorgeous, bright, lively young woman who should be making her own way and living her own busy life and I work hard to respect that...in exchange for which, I am blessed with Sundays, when she and I hang out...go to the movies...to a little pub...whatever it is, it's like my church...I just realized that...I go to the church of Bianca on Sundays and my spirit is renewed enough to face another week...come what may. I don't know if there will be a great reveal one day...that will show us why our journey is so intertwined and to what purpose. It seems odd to tie two people together and have an airtight fail safe in place to make sure we...meaning I, stay...all I know for sure is that I love her...so I stay.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night.

On the 10th Day of Christmas...

My Universe gave to me...

HULU!!!

I know so many people who feel the same way! As we've all reviewed our budgets and nixed everything but the bare essentials, many of us tried to save cable until the bitter end. Because, at least to me, TV is a bare essential...and there was Hulu to step into the breach.

Hulu, I thank you from the bottom of my heart...I've heard that you want to start charging...and I get that...you are providing an invaluable service by making it possible to survive without cable...I may never go back except for those HBO/Showtime shows that aren't available...but please, please don't start charging until we can all afford it! I had to suspend my beloved Netflix account this year and I miss it.

And BTW, what the hell is up with TNT, Lifetime and CBS? Seriously, you couldn't just allow your content to be viewed on Hulu? Your servers are too weak to sustain the stream and makes viewing very un-user friendly. Therefore, I am not watching your shows. Boo.

But Hulu? I love ya! You've been a lifesaver.

On the 8th Day of Christmas...

My Universe gave to me...

The Generosity of Friends

2009 has been a Witch's tit of a year..To many...Some of those many are my friends. Friends who have been having a tough go of it this year as well...but these friends have been incredibly good to me...

One friend was keeping me supplied with weed for months....MONTHS, for free...Others treated me to things that are usually on the casualty list when you've been unemployed for a looooong time...a nice meal out, a few drinks at the local pub, a movie complete with popcorn and soda. There is something so humanizing about these social mores...they make one feel infinitely better about ones self. The generosity of these friends has overwhelmed me at times...also overwhelming has been the deafening silence or the breakneck backpedaling of other 'friends'. But, I've been working on letting that be about them and not me. Who knows what fears our circumstances trigger in others. Who knows - indeed - what burdens and hardships others are facing and trying to keep under wraps.

But, I am so touched by the generosity I have been shown this year and I look forward to being able to supply the same for someone when I can.

I love you all. You know who you are.

On the 6th Day of Christmas...

My Universe gave to me...

Katt Williams!

I couldn't possibly say enough about how much I love and appreciate this man. I'm not even going to bother posting any youtube clips because there are too many to choose from. He is brilliant. He is genius. He is funnier than shit while observing the way of the world and bringing those observations back home to roost with his audience...


He is a potent antidote for whatever ails me...and I need a BIG dose of him today. When you see this level of brilliance it's difficult to not believe that there's something bigger than us as individuals out there...


I LOVE YOU KATT!!!! I GOT YOUR BACK!!

MERRY MOTHER'S DAY!

This was supposed to be a Christmas "gift" list that I never finished or published. But they are all still rightly deserved and some have had fabulous and/or unusual updates of their own since this was drafted in December 2008...so here's Christmas is May...


To Lucien, who just finally saw my post about his suspected gay-ness. He's not gay. He's metrosexual. He's a big, black metrosexual man, OK! PS - He has also finally been accepted into his union. Congrats Man! PPS - You are in good manly metrosexual company my friend (LL's pic came up in a google search for "metrosexual")








To Marius, who is human catnip. A steady supply of p**** cats. PS - OR the revelation of a true love that will fulfill you. Use your gift for GOOD not evil ;)










To Renee, who is an angel walking on earth. A lifetime of free wing cleanings. PS - And the renewed joy of nesting.






To Kirstie Alley who went public with her weight loss yearnings because she wanted one more go around on the sexy times track. Someone to fuck you till your eyes pop out, no matter what size you are girl! PS - Since she just went on Oprah, with all the weight back...this goes double now!







To Craig Ferguson who seems to be going quietly mad on late late night. "Saving Grace" is a brilliant movie. You are a funny, talented motherfucker and deserve a MUCH bigger audience. PS - Love the crackpot monkey puppet!




To Lizy, who knows what she REALLY wants but is afraid to go for it. GO FOR IT! PS - I actually don't know what's going on with my friend now. We have drifted apart. But still, whatever you really want, I hope you GO for it.







To H, who has always been exactly who he is. RECOGNITION!










To Arlene, who has a boy in every hood. TRUE LOVE .








To Suzanne, my craziest friend (YES) , MUCH MUCH more laughter and silliness. PS - The goodness you have given returned to you 10 fold.










To Danny, your Mojo back in more ways than one.









To Bianca, EVERYTHING that is your true heart's desire. At the snap of your fingers without any reversals, disappointments, heartaches or let downs.







Merry Mother's Day everyone.

Lyubov V Bolshom Gorode beats Watchmen at the Box Office!

The Russian Box Office...but still.

Our little $3.5 million movie that could - DID. It's the second time I've been fortunate enough to be involved with a #1 movie. The last one was "THE WEDDING PLANNER." That opened on Superbowl weekend and was perfect counter programming. "NO LOVE IN THE CITY", the U.S. title for this movie opened on International Women's Day weekend. Smart stuff.

It also has a lot to offer. It has...

Handsome Russian movie stars...

Plucky Russian Heroines...

Brighton Beach showgirls...

Pliable strippers...

A cool double decker bus...

drama...

Romance...

fairytale settings...

AND the Russian King of Pop!

There are also some really cool CGI effects, great music and lots of laughs. I hope it gets a U.S. release so that you can get a chance to see it. It's a very romantic comedy!