LIFE HAS A WAY

Of just moving right along doesn’t it?

I mean, one day I was living in Italy doing things the Italian way, writing a blog all the time, and the next thing I know, I look up and realize I’ve been back in la for almost 6 months to the day (WHOA….) and I never take the time to write anymore- and I think what the hell has happened?

And the truth is – a fucking TON. Truly a ton.

First and foremost I fell in love, and that changed everything. I now am thinking for two-and it’s so nice. And he’s so the greatest guy- and it’s so real and wonderful and intense, I mean, I have a serious boyfriend, and I see my friends less, and when I’m not working I’m with him, and it’s WILD.

IT’S SO DIFFERENT NOW. LIFE IS SO DIFFERENT.

And at the same time- it’s exactly the same. It’s fucking weird.

In a nut shell, the last, Jesus it’s been a month and a half since I wrote- I worked like a maniac this spring- really brutal back to back jobs- paid down a lot of debt (not all the way- which is the American way).. watched a lot of basket ball- my team the clippers made it to game 7 of the semi finals (which for the Europeans online- that is the equivalent of someone like Leeds almost winning the premiership) – it was fucking intense…. I went to Colorado for two weeks with Tate.

Saw the babies, painted my parents new house, as a sort of thank you for letting me bunk up at their place for 4 months… we hiked, and played, and napped, and got massages, and drank in the afternoon, it was so so nice- and I had forgotten the importance of taking someone you love home. Sure Tate had met my family- but home is Colorado and it was so wonderful for him to see that.

Then we packed up and came back to LA for one day and the two of went to Hawaii for a week. Tough life, I know. I got these insano cheap tickets online and we were supposed to only go for a weekend, but we got there (Waikiki for those who care) and 4 days was NOT going to be enough- so we extended our trip. It was the BEST. Since were back everyone has been asking what we did: “did you go surfing, hiking, waterskiing, para gliding, base jumping?” And the answer is , “uh no.”

We did nothing, not a god damned thing, and fucking hell if it didn’t take all day to get it done. I mean, we just got our little chairs and umbrella and sat our ass on the beach and that was fucking it. And we played in the water, and cuddled and ran around and drank in the afternoon (and morning) and slept in late, and just RELAXED. Total vacation- total bliss.

It was AMAZING.

And now I am back ,and started work already- some, what am I dong? Oh right Cover girl. Cover girl: shoot in palm springs for 5 days- I went to scout yesterday –it was 105 Fahrenheit. Holy shit. That’s fucking hot.

But you know, back in the house, the clippers lost, the cats are good, I’m back at work, gearing up for a summer of weddings in the east coast, ( I have SEVEN wedding s this year- holy hell fire- ranging from Mexico, cape cod, Martha’s vineyard, Dallas Texas, Block island, Florida and one in LA- so much for vacation this year- all my money is going to a free meal on the other side of the country… shit)

And so it’s nuts- sure a lot has happened- but it blows my mind that it’s been SIX MONTHS since I left Rome. And I can’t believe that I am not going back tomorrow- and I can’t believe that I haven’t been back yet- I miss it- and I don’t.

I mean, I miss my friends, and I miss the life style, and I miss being an ex-pat, and being away from the states- but there are things here that I can’t get there- like Tate for one, and my family, and I don’t know- TV and sushi, and Mexican food and yard sales with friends, and my god sons, and all of that shit- you know, my LIFE.

And that’s been a strange realization- that my life is here- and home base is here- but that the deal is, I work and then TRAVEL. Cuz that’s what makes me happy- and I CAN. It’s not that hard, and I’m into it

So, that’s it. Hey pics uploaded- Hawaii, and Colorado. Fun times.

SO THEN….

It’s been a long time since I have written, and for that I apologize- but after I try and surmise all that has occurred in the last few weeks you might begin to understand why I haven’t had a while lot of extra time to write…

Firstly, I moved back into my old apartment. This happened for a couple of reasons. The renters that were living here decided to move out, and suddenly my apartment was available. I had been considering a move- or at least renting an apartment in LA. Work has been going so well, and I actually am enjoying being here- combine that with a new man in my life- I wanted to have a place where we could go that wasn’t his place and that want’ my parents house- if you catch my drift. So I decided what the fuck- it was about the easiest move I have ever done- all my shit was either in the apartment already or in the garage outside. I didn’t even have to get a truck. It was pretty sweet. So I got the place fumigated and cleaned and within a few hours I was in.

Talk about instant life- I feel like Guy (for those of you familiar with the reference…) Nothing like a car, a man and a home to make you feel all settled in. The cats were more than a little shocked, and I think twice as happy to come home. It really made me think about the last 18 months of my life, and all the travels the cats and I have done, coming home. Little things like plugging my phone charger in next to my bed for what could be that last time in a while gave me the most amazing feeling- I have been on the road for so long- what a marvelous feeling to come home- combine that with the absurdness of moving BACK into an old apartment- unpacking is such a no brainier- shit, I already know where everything goes… strange. I did re-arrange slightly- gives the house a new vibe- I like it a lot.

Then there has been work. Just back to back to back to back jobs. Seriously going for it. Got a new art director and she and I are working really well together- like two little peas in a pod. It’s nice. I have barely had time to scratch my you know what- I’ve been working just like a manic. It’s good.

Then my brother had a birthday- which meant we had to throw a big ol party. I footed much of the bill, and so the while “getting out of debt” suffered a minor setback because of it, I say fuck it, it was seriously worth it. Highlights include a chewbaca shaped piñata, me in gorilla suit knocking over the tip jar on the bar, and ruining a few books- and me spilling three fresh drinks in a row on the floor because of a dare- it seems the night was an utter success.


I do get weekends off these days- and that has been pretty blissful. Been spending a lot of, ok all of my free time with Tate who is so fucking marvelous- I almost don’t even know where to begin- I have taken him to a few parties and such, and he’s always such a champ- he’s a total hit with the friends, which always makes me feel good, when people like my man… so that’s awesome. And I really like him too. Carter and Nikky have seen him the most probably, as we have a permanent standing Sunday brunch date these days, and the 4 of us are really having a nice little time… I swear he and carter are so alike- it’s a little disturbing…

What else- I made a reservation to go to Hawaii in May. Decided I was going to freak out if I didn’t have a trip on the horizon- so the aforementioned “getting out of debt” has suffered yet another minor set back- but I REALLY don’t care about this one- 4 days in Hawaii with Tate is so worth any money I can throw at it- it’s gonna be great. Found this absurdly good deal online- so I was like BOOK NOW THANK YOU VERY MUCH…

Ahhh.

What else. Damaris moved, which is so weird that she and I always seem to move apartments at the same time…

Oh, I worked with David Lachapelle last week, which was very cool. I like his work A LOT and have always admired him, so that was pretty cool to see an idol at work…

Doing a McDonalds commercial this week (woo-hoo) and then I will do Ford and then another Target spot after that…

I guess I am surprised how comfortable I am back into LA. I swear I just really didn’t think I would be staying when I came back- I really thought I was going to sweep in and get out. But I didn’t account for Tate, and now because of him, I want to stay. And it seems like I am going to. I mean, getting the apartment back and all. But I had to keep reminding myself that moving back in wasn’t a life sentence- it’s just an apartment, and if anything, this place is month to month, and better than almost any OTHER apartment this one is the easiest to be temporary in… but I don’t feel temporary. I feel quite settled, and after my uber transient year, it’s come as a welcome and comforting surprise.

So shit is good, I am happy and well and good. And that is pretty great. Will post some pics soon. And when I do, you all will be the first to know.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the emails asking for me to post- it’s always nice to know you are all listening. Till next time, fear not, for I will remain

Chase

HAPPY DAYS

So I am here in LA, working my little rump right off, working for the swill merchants of the American machine…

And I have to say I am pretty fucking happy. I love my little car, I have paid off almost my entire debt, I totally have a boyfriend (weird), and I like him so much, and in general I am just really really happy and doing awesome.

I had the entire week off (!!) and it was just so nice to finally have a little time to get my car cleaned, and do some shopping and I did my taxes, and my shit is just super on point…

And it feels good.

I just love being happy. I think I used to take happy for granted, and now I know how hard I have worked to be here, now, and happy.

And I totally totally am.

I’ve said it before, and I hope to say it again.... But,

happy days.

VERY DRUNK

At the airport. Its probably a federal offence, I am probably breaking the security act, or the patriot act, or the decency act, or whatever- but mama is SHITFACED at the airport. 7:37am. My flight leaves in 2 hours and I am HAMMERED. Sitting with my very sober dad at the fort Lauderdale airport, drunk as a skunk… 3 sheets to the wedding, hanging on my a shred, fucking wasted, blotto, still drunk from last night. Just. Drunk.

The last thing I remember was switching to tequila with my uncle,. HE HAD NEVER HAD PATRON. That needed to be remedied. I found my phone on the front lawn, or, I should say, my father found my phone on the front lawn by the rental car. I don’t remember a fucking thing. But in the words of my father I was a “total asshole”.

I’ve been drunk a million times, and I’ve made a jackass of myself at least that many times, but somehow being that sloppy in front of my 20 years sober father makes it all more vivid…

I think it was a fun wedding. I think. I actually remember very little. Dad says I was trying to light a cigarette in the car on the way home, and telling him to fuck off.. and god knows what else.

Dads been sober for almost 20 years, and he hates that I drink. Can you blame him? I’m a fucking sloppy drunk bastard (and especially so this morning)… all I want to do is get on the plane and pass out. Oh my god. Drunk.

Have to eat a bagel. Or two. Or twelve. And maybe a bloody mary. Or twelve. Ha.

God I smell good. MMMMMMMM.

I look good

IT’S ALL HAPPENING

So I am at work. Unnecessarily so. I could leave. I don’t have anything left to do. But I am trying to impress this new fancy pants production designer I am working with, and to show her my tough as nails work my ass off attitude, so I am staying late and putting on a show….

When in fact I am emailing and writing my blog over a sausage sandwich.

I haven’t had to prove myself at work in a long long time. Seems like I’ve been doing this shit for so long, and it always came so easy to me I never had to push- I was just naturally good.

And it’s not that I’m not good now- I just have to pretend to be better right now… (God, does that even make sense?)

There’s just some extenuating pressure on this job, and I have to say I totally dig it…. I like it when it’s hard.

And it’s working. She just told me she wants me on every job with her. Which would be pretty fucking cool, because she’s probably the most talented high profile designer I’ve ever worked with, and she works all the time, all over the world…

But whatever. Cuz right now it’s 7:46pm and I haven’t done shit for like 3 hours… I’m just chilling, getting dinner and keeping her company. But sometimes, that’s the job description.

In other news. I guess I have a boyfriend. I don’t know quite how it happened, but I am seeing a guy and it’s getting kinda serious and I like him a lot. It’s weird.

Strange how it all happens when you least expect it to. I swore I was coming to LA for 3 months- make cash in and out. And well, I kinda wanna stay right now. I am really enjoying my life right now. I feel happy and healthy and it just all feels good.

And once again, I find myself Happy. Right where I am. What a gift.

Oh and PS- my friend called me to say that he bought his black razor phone because they played “back in black” on the commercial… guess I’m not alone after all. Fucking advertising. Anyone who makes commercials should die. I mean, uh… ahem...woops.

TARGET AUDIENCE (aka love letter to the 80’s)

Well, I got taken. Total snap drag take out by the man- suckered by advertising- targeted, zoomed into and fuckin sold. It’s the heartbeat of America, it’s our raison de etra… it is the great American machine. I knew it was happening, I felt it go down, and I did nothing to stop it. Because that’s how capitalism works. God bless it.

And some days I just love it.

Last week my cell phone broke- well, it wasn’t completely dead, in truth I probably could have gotten another several months out of it. But the fucking things sucked. It hung up every time I flipped it open… it was a piece of shit. Slow, old, total piece. (albeit at one time a very expensive piece of shit) but it was dying something vicious and it was not going to be long before it was completely caput, So I decided to head that fucker off at the pass and get a new one.

So I went to the Cingular store- figured I’d just buy the new razor in like, black or silver or whatever cuz it was closest to my old phone (you know, the piece of shit), and it was actually only $100 which seemed reasonable enough. (my last phone cost me almost $400… so $100 seemed like the deal of the century)… Plus, I knew a few people who had the razor, and they liked it enough.. so ok I figured I’d buy it. But then at the last minute I decided not to buy the phone that day- I don’t know why, the person I was with got antsy and I decided I didn’t care enough to stick around and buy the fucker.

Honestly I was thinking do I REALLY need it? The phone isn’t dead YET, and after a year in Italy, the idea of rushing out to buy a little shiny object simply because I could, seemed… well, unnecessary. Like do I REALLY NEED a new one. Not totally, not yet, not 100%.

I’ve been very aware of that recently- all the marketing and advertising that has been pushed my way. I don’t think I ever really noticed it before- having grown up with it- but to have a brief respite from it- I realized how much of a relief it is to NOT have all that advertising shoved down your throat… and what a difference it really makes. Can you imagine?- I didn’t WANT anything. Not for an entire year- new camera? no, this one works. New blackberry? Please. New I pod, why? New digital whatever, new nothing… no. No new phone- NOTHING NEW. No clothes, NO NOTHING NEW- in a year I bought myself a ring (which actually my mom bought for me) and a pair of earrings. And that’s it. Seriously, food, beer and 3 pieces of jewelry. I didn’t even do Christmas. No shopping, no consumerism. I actually felt really good about NOT having all the trimmings. Such a relief.

Because before I left I was- fuckin, knee deep. Two phone lines, cell phone, fax, TV, cable, tivo, fancy car, all the insurances, video camera, computer, digital camera, extra batteries, extra cables, a charger in the car, in the bed room, in the office and one in the kit… I mean shit, you name it I had it… serious… all the STUFF.

And when I got rid of it all: pheeeew what a relief. I can’t tell you. And so much extra space in my life.

So then I go and lolly about in Italy for a year- no advertising, no marketing, no desire.

I’ve only been home two months. What can I say? My defenses are down. My stamina is low… my immunity to “the sell” is weak.

After I didn’t buy the phone that day (which I was secretly proud of) I was watching TV when a cingular commercial came on- for the razor phone- IN PINK. Which is pretty fucking awesome. But THEN they had the psychedelic fur’s “Pretty in pink” as the god damned soundtrack…

DUDE.

How can I fight that? Seriously… dude- I have no resistance to pretty in pink- I go right back to my love for Johnny Hughes, my endless infatuation with the 80’s… I think of Molly and Judd, Little Anthony Mikey Hall, Emilio, Abe Froman even James Spader… fuck me…I’m 16 in my trans am, a black one- not the guy the car- a black car, a pink guy, I’m twisting into a sea of 80 music and leg warmers, Ferris is there and life is moving pretty fast but I’m stopping to look around so as not to miss it, adults are the enemy and when you grow up your heart dies, I’m in a rolls, I’ve heard the fender on this is 5 grand- do have 5 grand? I don’t have 5 grand, but THIS is getting good- oh man, put the diamond earring in my year, cross the football field because no one was buying this together woman of the 80’s thing anyway…. And let’s plow because I’m the duckman and I live to like you and Jakes my boy, and the girl in the hat is so vogue and for a moment I’m farmer Ted, I’m not really a farmer though, and long duck dong is there and it’s sofa city sweetheart, and I can remember lots of things… because life is not what not and secondly it’s none of your business… and I got Caroline in the bedroom right now passed out cold I could violate her 10 different ways if I wanted to.. but it’s time to whip it and I’m having a total eclipse of the heart. In the 80’s it was really human for you to listen to all of my shit, even if we did have bra’s on our heads, on the highway to the danger zone, and screws fall out all the time in the 80’s, because the world is an imperfect place, but I’m a fucking genius because I can’t make a lamp, but moe-lay really pumps my nads and the question isn’t what are we gonna do today, it’s what aren’t we going to do, but it’s all voodoo economics, and it’s no problem what so ever because my best friends sister’s boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious.

And it WAS pretty serious.

Seriously.

And this is the thing about advertising.

They flash that pink phone and play that song, and me, their IDEAL target audience sees it. And that last paragraph storms thru my mind in an instant. And they win.

Game over. I loose they win. I HAVE TO HAVE THE LITTLE PINK PHONE. I have to.

And so I do. I go down to the store and buy it, and because its pink (and pretty) it’s $150. But I pay, I pay for Ferris and Molly and all of it.

And then I have it and every time it rings (and it rings a lot…) I have a little bit of that with me.

And that’s a lot. Plus every time someone sees it they say “ohhhhh you got the pink one, awesome….”

AND I LOVE IT. LOVE IT. I’m using the word love. I love my phone. IT’S AWESOME.

Sick. Demented. Delicious.

Caroline laughs and it’s raining all day and she loves to one of the girls…She’s pretty in pink. Isn’t she?

SCREWED BY A STRANGER

So, as you know I am sort of all over the place right now… wandering jew kinda thing (except with a place to sleep and not a jew). So when my friend gave me the number of a psychic who “was amazing” and had “blown her mind”I thought I’d give her a call and see if she could pull some mystic info down from the ether and perhaps offer some direction to me and my wandering ness.

Now I am kinda of a believer in psychic energy… I worked on a documentary on psychics a few years ago and it really kinda gave me new information about them. And I have remained curious about them ever since. I’m not a card carrying believer or anything.. but I think that anything is possible… and I have certainly experienced sensations like a deja-vu and coincidence- and it seems awfully closed minded to say that other people might not feel those feelings more strongly and be better honed at controlling them. For me that possibility exists, and therefore I am willing to indulge from time to time. For fun, for fascination, and to keep the hope alive that there is something great and cool and mysterious lingering just above all of our heads.

So I made the call, got an apt. Looked vaguely forward to it… blah blah. Was even prepared to drop the cash for it… and it wasn’t gonna be cheap.

But fuck it right? So I called this week to leave a message – hey I have an apt- where are you located, I don’t know where to go kinda thing. Then I called again morning of… uh- do we have an apt?

No answer, no call back.

Dude, no dice.

Totally stood up by a psychic. What a bitch. (and a wee bit unprofessional if you ask me). But seriously. What the fuck? Total spiritual fuck over. Screwed by a soothsayer. Bitch. So much for reading into shit now.

One can only hope she’s just unprofessional, and hasn’t been abducted by the Libyan army for testing or something…..

But I say fuck her either way.

Because I did ok- I managed. I was on the east side when I realized she wasn’t going to call back in time for my appointment. So I went to a park, sat in the sun, took a walk around the lake. Let the sky cross my mind. Then stood up and spent the rest of the day with the boy I like. Didn’t suck.

HOME ON THE RANGE

So living with the parents is starting to suck.

It’s nothing they have done- all they do is want to hang out and keep a stocked fridge, do my laundry and have a cleaning lady…. I don’t pay rent, I don’t pay bills I don’t even feed my cats.

It’s hell. Seriously.

I mean- how can I complain? On one hand I got it made- But dude. I got to get out of here- pronto.

I just need privacy. 30 and living with my parents. I love to save the money- but this is totally brutal. This weekend all I wanted to do was sit in MY SPACE and be ALONE and have a little privacy.

I guess the other thing is that since I have been here there has been someone else in the other guest room which means I am sharing a bathroom, and… well, after a year of being 6000 miles away from my closest friend- eating meals alone, sleeping alone- not speaking very good Italian or whatever… I just go so used to BEING ALONE.

And I fucking miss it. I do. I really just miss the quiet of my own thoughts while I chew, or sleep, or stare, or draw or read of WHATEVER.

I can’t get that here- and I knew I wouldn’t, and I knew coming into this that it would be like this- but, I’m afraid that doesn’t make it any easier.

And I don’t know what to do. Do I sublet an apartment- do I move back into my old one? Do I just stick it out? Can I even make it another month? I mean I want to save money but not this bad… am I even still going to Colorado? Should I just make money and move back to Europe? Don’t know what to do-

Really really confused man.

I guess that’s ok. Just feels weird. I’m not used to feeling this way, and I’m not a particular fan of being in unfamiliar territory.

But I’m not complaining. (or am I?) Just venting- on the little corner of the world that I have made for myself to do that.

HOLY MUTHER FUCKING SHIT

Greetings from the vortex. I am working as hard as I work these days. Commercials lined up back to back to back. Looks as though my trip to Italy in early feb will postponed- hopefully I can go end of feb… I really want to go and have a visit- but fuck man the work is coming on strong and I say keep it comin- mommy has bills to pay. So I figure make the hay while the sun shines and take a trip when the opportunity presents itself..

Haven’t had much time for a personal life- just work round the clock. The fucking Bronco’s lost (American football for my EU readers). Whatever… seen the boy a few times… I feel pretty whatever on that front as well.

Fuck it- I came to this town to make money- and well, I am. So happy days right.? But Jesus- I have been going from 6am to 11pm… it’s intense. Just when I get done with commercial work- I get an email with scripts to read… fuckin-a. So I work all day long these days. But it’s all good.

Actually I’m not complaining- it’s good times.

One totally awesome moment was last week I was working on a stage in Manhattan Beach and I got to go on the set of the “OC”. Which is pretty much my favorite show of all time… or at least my favorite guilty pleasure… man I was so fucking excited- full on kid in a candy store… It was almost embarrassing how excited I was- but my producer was equally excited- so it made for shared guilt… there are some pics here.

Then also I did a pretty silly commercial with dogs in it… the videos are pretty funny- will post a few soon, but here are a few pics… fucking advertising.

Anyway beyond that it’s all status quo. Work work work. At least I have a light at the end of the tunnel. What that is, I’m not entirely sure this evening… but I do know that it’s there.

K SO.

So, it’s not so bad to be here in LA. It’s actually pretty fun. It’s nice that it’s temporary…. But for now I am totally enjoying myself. I bought a car- a super shiny nice silver Honda CR-V. It’s great… its a 2002 but it feels brand new. I mean, the fucker is perfect…. Not a scratch on it… so that makes it fun to be here- because living in LA means lots of time spent in a car- and having a new one makes that fun.

Been working hard and it’s nice to know that there is money coming in… I’ve been spending lots of time with Damaris and Mimi, and that just fucking rocks. I’ve been seeing lots of movies and watching DVD’s and fuck knows I love the picture show. And I had a date the other night that was totally fun and not annoying or horrible (as they so often are) and so that is promising. Then the Bronco’s won yesterday which is the best shit ever, and tonight I am throwing a surprise birthday party for Damaris- which is fun and naughty and… so. You know- everything is good.

Living with the parents is mostly good, few rough patches… but nothing too intense… just the usual crap.

One thing I hate right now is “the question”. I got the question my senior year of collage, I got it when I finished the short film, and now I’m getting it again. I hate that question. You know the one: “So, what’s next for you?”

“Um, like, I don’t know man- just kinda freeloading off my parents for a while, trying to get out of debt, then gonna go to Colorado where I will freeload a while longer, hand with 2 year olds, make mud pies and then like, I don’t know.”

Maybe I had better answers last time. But I hate answering that question these days. There is always this tone of- you went to Europe… so now what. What epiphany did you have? Like they expect that they I am coming home to take over the world… and well, I guess I feel like I am disappointing them… or maybe I’m disappointing myself… or who the fuck knows… but I don’t want to talk about it. I just kinda want to keep it slow for now. I’ll speed up again… but not today.

Everyone always says in theory giving yourself a “sabbatical from life” is a good thing to do- but the looks one gets at dinner parties when trying to explain that you have no plan- or, more pointedly that the plan is the “anti- plan”… it doesn’t always bode well…it’s hard a hard one to spin…
So anyway- got that going on.

Mostly it’s good. And I feel good. Happy, healthy, looking forward to a lot of travel in the next few months- Rome, NY, Florida… Rhode island, Massachusetts… France… got a lot of miles to travel this year, and it all feels good.

So you know… happy. Happy days- anywhere I am. These days are Happy Days.

HELLO NEW YEAR. HOW ARE YOU? NOT SURE YET HUH? ME TOO.

I started my new year decidedly different than any other year ever ever ever. And by that I mean this: I slept right thru the fucker. Seriously. In bed. Asleep. Happy days. That may not seem that unusual to you, but I ‘m a big new years eve-er… I fucking love the night. An excuse to party for no good reason- it’s not religious, it’s not celebrating independence or a person… it’s not about jack shit… it’s about a fucking calendar for god sakes… not THAT is my kind of holiday… instead of new years eve I feel that we should call it “for no good fucking reason”… yes.

But I digress. In just about every year past I have had some extravagant plans whereby a group of friends and I howl at the mood in some mind altered bender at midnight, and no calls me crazy when I set things on fire.

And I had that all lined up this year, I had an excellent small but good times party not far away from the house where I could get shit faced, howl, ice skate, be by a fire, be under the stars, fireworks on hand… perfect… happy days.

But at about 9pm I got in bed, called Shoni told her to count me out, put my eye mask and my ear plugs in and got under the covers.

Somewhere around midnight I woke up to the sound of fireworks, and right out my window was a huge fucking display… I mean huge, and right in basalt. SO without as much as getting out of bed, Pete and I never moved, we just pulled back the curtain, watched the AMAZING show, rolled over and went back to bed. It was kind of awesome.

However, when you are expected to be the “life” of the aforementioned party, the guilt and the expectations and the disappointments when you don’t arrive at said party… well, that shit follows you around… and everyone thinks something is wrong with you and blah blah blah.

And I’m like “no man, I was just tired…”

But I can see a trend starting here. Not about new years, but with my friends looking for the chase they used to know and not having an easy time finding her.

----

Back in LA I feel like I am finally back in the states now. The last month has been such a cluster fuck- between work, incognito, driving to Colorado and the f-ing holidays… mama needs a break.

So I have spent the past few days paying bills, organizing my life, moving in to a comfortable level, seeing movies.. but mostly my time has been spent shopping for a car.

The last two times I have bought a car it was always fun… I mean shopping for a car means … well- YOU GET A NEW CAR. But this time it sucks ass. I attribute this to two factors. Firstly I am buying a used car (blarg). And secondly I don’t really WANT a car. I’d rather not thank you very much. And if I HAVE to… I thinking hybrid. Did you know those mother fuckers START at $30,000? Fuck that. Do you have $30,000? Cuz I sure as shit don’t. So then I’m like- go boring, reliable.. think rental car but not rented right? Oh for fuck sake how blasted boring is that?!!

I want character, spunk, spice, life… verve… But I also want the fucker to start in the morning. Ahhh the precarious nature of consumerism.

So after 4 days of 5 hours a day searching, I think I found a car that will due. I am driving down to Long Beach in the morning to check it out.

I think I am going to buy an SUV. Pause, wait for the “I’m joking” Actually I’m not. It’s not really a SUV, except that technically it is. It ‘s the Honda CR-V. It’s like a girly SUV. Lacks the gas guzzling cahones of a “real” SUV. No this puppy will get 30 miles to the gallon, a SUV I think not. (it’s essentially a civic on a truck chassis…

So anyway. I want to kill myself because those car salesmen are blood sucking greed mongering devil dick heads…. But I trudge on- thru the fiery pits of consumerism… trying to find my cay, one car panel at a time…

God damn this country is bleak. I guess the upside of buying a car is that the soon I get it the sooner I can see LA in my rear view window as I get the fuck out of this town. Ha.

MERRY MERRY BLAH BLAH

You know why I love Boxing Day? (that’s the day after xmas for all you yanks…) Because it means Christmas is over and we don’t have to listen to anymore crap Christmas music. I mean really. How can people stand to listen to those same fucking songs over and over and over, year after year?… they’re not even that good of songs. Silent night my ass, not with all those jingle bells rocking round the Christmas trees decking the halls and jamming pigeons up pear trees.

Fuckin hell.

Christmas really is such a production in the states, and my family is no exception. My mother is a bit of a Martha Stewart, and so every year there are perfectly little wrapped jems under a perfectly decorated tree while some sweet little cider kind of beverage cooks on the stove and makes the whole house smell delicious and safe and there are candles in the windows protecting us from the outside and all we do is cook and eat and be lazy.

It’s pretty fucking awesome, but as with everything in my family and in this country, there are a million expectations and responsibilities and expectations. Yesterday everyone went sledding and when I opted to stay home for a precious few minutes of quite time you would have thought I told them I wasn’t coming home for xmas or something.

“What do you MEAN your not coming!!!! You HAVE to come!!!”

Actually, no. I don’t.

I just needed a little down time. A little time without food, or cooking or cleaning or talking about what we are going to cook, clean or eat. (As I write this now, everyone is down stairs eating AGAIN. I don’t think I can EVER eat again. Fucking a. TOO MUCH.)

Re-entering the states at this time of the year is just, a lot. These people are fucking crazy. Americans are nuts. Wound so tight, so predictable so exhausting. And the gluttony is especially apparent and overwhelming this time of year.

I’ve been crying more than usual. And the usual is sort of never for me. I’m not a big crier. But I have wept like a baby a few times since coming home. It’s the strangest thing. I just get so overwhelmed. It’s not rocket science why… call it sadness about not being in Rome, call it sadness abut having had the dream of living in Italy for so long and being home so quickly after that began, call it being simply TIRED, call it being bored at home, call it searching in a REAL way for the first time in my life, call it not being alone after spending a year alone virtually each and every day, call it being 30… call it whatever you want.

The simple truth is I can’t do the things like I did before I left. I am different. And when I try and pretend I’m not, I freak out and have to lock myself in a bathroom or a closet or someshit and have a good long hard hard cry.

It’s a new thing for me. I’m not a huge fan of the new weepy chase. But what the fuck. At least I’m listening to myself, rather than trudging on, turning it into stress and needing a massage that I never get. Fuck that.

I pretty much always try to remain present in any given circumstance- you know show up, be present. But sometimes I just need to crawl up to my bed room with my cats and pound away on my computer for a while. Because even though I’m here, in this house, in Colorado, with my family right now. But in my heart, I am a million trillion miles away… in a little secret garden with my cats, and the sun, where it is quiet, still and I don’t need to cry.

FUCKIN A

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TWELVE FOURTEEN OH FIVE?

Is it really the 14th of December? Jesus Christ it’s been a long time since I wrote… I mean I guess it’s only 8 days but that’s a lot for me… fuck man. LA. Being back here- fuck, I’ve slipped right back to where I was before I left and sometimes it feels like my time in Rome, my life there, and that whole experience didn’t even exist….

It’s fucking weird.

I think the jet lag is finally wearing off. I was in a state of exhaustion for about 2 weeks- seriously fucking tired.

I did the museum thing… what a relief to get that over with. I got 47 volunteers. I have no idea how I did it- working and being all jet lagged and weird… but I did it and the evening went great and blah blah blah…. I just felt like I could finally relax once it was over. That week building up to it was just brutal.

I hadn’t been back in the country for a week and there I was making upwards of 50 phone calls in a day- balancing budgets, multi tasking, going out with friends at night, Basketball games, dinner parties… I mean it was like my life here in LA was on hold, just waiting for me… and all I had to do was show up and it would just start again…

Like my life was a part in a play that some understudy had been performing for me for the last year… and now I am back, and while it was a little strange at first, automatic pilot took over – and I am here. Playing this part, being this person… doing this job, being this daughter, and this sister, and this friend…

And it’s nice and comfortable and all of that- I mean Jesus, I can’t tell you nice it is to HAVE THIS. HERE. STILL.

But.

But I don’t know… feels kinda tired, and I feel kinda like this is just a means to an end. Come here, make money, move on.

I was talking to an old friend who (after telling me I looked simply exhausted) was hoping I would take care of myself in the next few weeks and that I would remember all the things I had learned and the ways I had changed and that I wouldn’t just let myself slip back into my old ways…

And I was trying to explain to her, that while I would love to have time for myself and have the nice relaxing pace I’ve had for the last year… I don’t know how to do that here-

How am I not going to go to dinner with Mimi and Damaris next Monday? How am I not going to go to Harry’s birthday party cuz I have to get up at 5am? (Oh wait I did that last night and have felt guilty all day. And MORE than guilty, I feel like I missed something…) because I WANT to go to Harry’s birthday, and I WANT to go to the Clipper games with Max, and to Thursday night to watch Lost on Tivo with my friends… I mean who wouldn’t?

It’s fun to have a social life… it’s just fucking exhausting.

Anyway.

I am home and I am fucking KNEE DEEP IN THE HOOPLA. Looking so forward to Christmas- cant wait to go to Colorado and get the fuck out of LA again.. taking my cats (my poor cats… they are so cool, so tough, so awesome… what a team we 3…). I think I am excited for Colorado because it is comfortable and familiar but I don’t have adult patterns there, and I can’t wait to have a little nature in my life, and finally- I just can’t wait to kiss those two little boys. I just can’t fucking wait.

So for now I am at work, making some stupid insurance commercial. Sitting on an apple box, in the sun, on a back lot in LA, surrounded by fake houses, watching my life go by.

Because that’s what I do in LA.

BACK IN BLACK

Holy shit I live in America again.

It’s kinda hard to know where to begin. I guess where I left off.

SAYING GOODBYE:
I only cried twice. Once when I sold my Vespa. I don’t know… Luigi was so good to me- he was my man, we never crashed, he never broke down on me, he was such a pal and he was so so baby blue. I actually cried. Then I cried the next morning when I put the cats in the elevator with some strange Italian man who shuttled them away and I freaked out. Luckily I took drugs and calmed down. Thank god for drugs.
TRAVELING
Flying for that long blows. Period. 10 hour flights just sucks. I mean, I doped up when I dropped the cats off, and that made me sleep for a while. But 10 hours. You wake up, you know? Luckily I had no one sitting next to me on either leg… so that was kinda sweet.
NEW JERSEY
Spent the night in Jersey at Aunt Lois’s house. TJ, Joe, Lois and Bryan. Love them. The real highlight was Emily and her amazingly beautiful daughter Sabine, came out for dinner and had a visit. That was pretty great. She looks amazing… and that little girl- holy shit. Gorgeous. The cats were fucking fine there… I mean like “what up we’re worldly cats… gimme a new house I don’t EVEN care.” It was bizarre.
ARRIVING
I was tired… obviously. In fact everyone was. The family was working so we ordered take out and kinda just starred at each other. I woke up at like 6 am on sat morning and thought fuck it and so I unpacked. Got mostly settled, made a run to my storage. Tried to take a nap- totally didn’t. I was feeling pretty fucking weird.
CULTURE SHOCK IN SAV-ON
I don’t think I’ve ever had culture shock before. Not like, real culture shock. But I pretty much lost my mind in Sav-on. It was the tomato soup. I’ve been craving tomato soup with a white bread and Velveeta grilled cheese sandwich for fucking ages… (gross I know, but you miss the strangest things when your gone for long enough) and there it was- right there- in Sav-on… in the food aisle. And there was just everything- food, detergent, stockings, cotton balls, convenience, check lines… it was all of it, AMERICA right fucking at my finger tips… it was so intense… I never felt like that before. Shortly there after I totally lost it and cried my eyes out for as long as I could..
THE PARTY
There wasn’t much time for crying or shock because in about 2 hours I was to arrive at a party for my 30th birthday that Carter threw me with about 300 people. It was truly awesome. I mean, it was just so much fun. It was strange at first, so I started in on the champagne. I got pretty drunk. Which is not surprising considering the amount I drank over the 8 hours in which I was at the party drinking- and considering the jet lag and the shock and exhaustion… actually I think I did pretty good. Except that I don’t remember anything- as I look back now- the entire thing was such a blur I basically can’t remember a second of it. I mean- sure I remember it… but not really- not really at all. (in fact I seem to remember the drunk bits clearer than the NOT DRUNK BITS…) It’s so weird. One thing I absolutely remember is that at about 4:30 in the morning a gorilla suit appeared and I put that fucker on and rode a bicycle a full lap around the book store. It was a definite highlight. Seriously- it was so much.. I had a fucking blast. But I was in such culture shock at that time it’s all like a dream to me now.
VICKI
There’s a reason she’s my best friend. She flew all the way out from NYC for my party. What a girl.
THE JOB
SO then I started working today. 12 days. In a row. Oh my god. Here we go. (we’re building a house so we can blow it up…it’s gonna be awesome but what a waste- fucking Hollywood)
INCOGNITO
And then there is the whole reason I came home early- an art show I am coordinating. I need 50 volunteers by Saturday night. I have 35. Fuck man. This is all a lot.


I have this theory that we don’t bite off more than we can chew… like we can always pull shit off if we make ourselves. But I just… I just don’t think I want to anymore.

I’m not as good as multi tasking. Or maybe I’ll get better at it… but I had to hang up with Damaris tonight because it was quite simply too hard for me to talk on the phone and work at the same time… that’s like, pathetic for me.

So even though I may be back on the playground… it might take a minute to be in full swing again. But luckily I got plenty of people around to give me a push…

TOMORROW

Is my last day in Rome. I have packed completely so there is very little to “be done” tomorrow- apart from a long lunch, a relaxing morning, 2 scripts to read, sell my scooter and say goodbye to my friends round the pub tomorrow eve.

It’s not sad, not really. I already have a flight back in Feb. And although I will obviously miss my friends, and SO MUCH this city, this time, this way of life…

I still feel, very much, that everything is as it should be.

And that makes leaving somehow easier.

All systems go- t minus 48 hours.

I’ve said it before, and I will, blatantly say it again:

Buy the ticket.
Take the ride.

Hambrula.

FOR THE FIRST TIME

I got really excited to go home today. Just realized all the amazing people that are there that I miss so much, and all the wonderful luxuries I get to indulge in: Showers, baths (been fucking months man) A haircut from Brenda and fucking mani pedi whenever I please… oh man and sushi and Mexican and mom’s cooking and carter and nikki’s cooking and warm weather and a yard for the cats and the beach and TV and movies all the time- oh fuck man. And Whole foods and basketball and a big desk, oh man and my printer and my desk chair!!! And a bed that’s not a cheap ass futon fold out couch… And sally’s ugly carpet pet ladder thing so she can get to high places without me lifting her p and getting her down…and Sav-on drugs (don’t even need anything, just love that it’s there….) And how bout this one- computer screen cleaner- gagging for that, my computer is just filthy, god and Tivo and THE OC, and Damaris and Carter and Jacob and my parents and Frenchie and Jamie and my mans and ma meems and just to pick up the phone and not have to dial with a calling card and punch in the number and blah blah blah… to call Emily and Vicki whenever, at any hour… god and life without a 9 hour time difference, and to just be able to speak FLUENTLY, ELOQUENTLY to anyone- to order meat at the butcher and actually get what you want… and to be funny to strangers, to be able to have CHARM back… god- and work. I’m excited for work- you know a proper job with a proper income so I can fucking buy a thing or two should I fancy it…

YES. I needed desperately to be away from all those things. And I needed to be broke and live simply. And I did, and I was and IT WAS AWESOME and hard and fun and simple and liberating- fucking hell so liberating.

But I think I might be done now. (Or at least this week I am).

I mean, am I apprehensive about going home? Sure. Am I apprehensive about living with my parents for ummm, an indefinite amount of time- absolutely. Do I wish I could bring Luigi the Vespa there and not have to buy a gas guzzling monster machine car? Fuck yes. Do I fear the greed heads and the hate mongers that run the country? So much. Am I worried I won’t have any time for myself to read and to sit still, and wonder and ponder and stare and write blogs and work on my little projects? Yea, it’s been an amazing year for that: ME TIME…Am I afraid that after 4 weeks I am going to number one want to buy thousand and thousands of unnecessary over advertised electronics and number two (and worse), decide I made a mistake and wish I had stayed- ABSOLUTELY fear that.

But coming here was a risk- and I did it and it worked out great. Going home is a risk too, in a way. But it seems to me the thing to do. And right now- given all the circumstances, financial and otherwise, things decidedly feel like they are, as they should be.

So I can’t wait to go home and fuck about for a few months in LA. Sounds fun. Finally. It sounds fun.

TURKEY DAY

Happy thanksgiving America. Not my favorite holiday (the whole slaughtering an innocent nation of people… I don’t know), but absolutely my favorite meal. I am just chilling in Rome alone- no celebrations no nada. Just a chill night at home with the cats.

My birthday, on the other hand was, awesome.

My near and dear Zoe George took me out and we had a fucking blast. We just wandered around Rome creating havoc- going from bar to bar, restaurant to restaurant- drinking champagne, popping balloons, lighting fireworks, jumping on monuments, tried to steal a golf cart… (foiled unfortunately)… it was absurdly fun. I spent a lot of the day on the phone- thank you all for calling and emailing me- no shit, it was an impressive turnout- birthdays always make me feel loved when I get so many calls… (and some random ones too- how about my babysitter from when I was like 5 called to say Happy 30th… amazing).

Anyway- my first day of my 30’s was, ahem, not so fun. It was just like my 20’s only the hangover was much much worse.

It literally happened overnight. I’m gonna go right ahead and say in the TOP 5 bad hangovers of all time. Actually, fuck that- it’s number 2. (there was one other really bad day- but I was in Aspen and there was some altitude lack of oxygen element that really fucked that one up…) this one was just pure and simply brutal.

Anyway… I suppose the long hard road of old age has officially begun… I’ll begin saying things like “oh, there goes my back again” and “why I remember when I was a kid, we used to write our letters BY HAND” Fuck man. All that “your only old in your mind” shit is- well shit. I live like an 18 year old, but I get hung over like a 30 year old. That shit ain’t fair.

Anyway-

One good story for you today. Took the cats to the vet for their health cert so they can fly next week, and couldn’t get a taxi home. 5:30 rush hour, called for one twice, couldn’t hail one on the street- BRUTALLY cold. Waited for so long- but the cats were cold, and so was I, so I said fuck it, and walked. 20 minutes. Uphill. With the two cats. Sucked. Now, for those of you who have met Peter, you know, he’s like, well, if my brother was a cat… or say, an SUV perhaps. HE’S FUCKING ENORMOUS, he’s the better part of 20 pounds, and while Sally is comparably small, at a mere 11 pounds- put that together, and that’s a whole lot of pussy to be dragging down the street. It totally sucked. But it made thankful. For taxis, and cars, and free rides, and heat, and having another person in your life from time to time to help carry the weight.

And I’ve been in Rome for a year without these things. All these things I so took for granted. And today, maybe truly for the first time ever. I really was grateful, that so so soon- it will all be back in my life.

Ci vidiamo dopo.

HOLY DREAMS AND SHIT

I’ve been having some decidedly fucked up dreams. Total anxiety morning madness- good fuck. Dreamt I had a fight with my parents last night cuz they took me to a football game, and I was “bugging out” (that was the phrase I used in the dream…) and ther was a wave machinge that used real water…(in the dream that was impressive) and I wanted to leave because I fell in love with an old friend (which made me wake up with the creeps), but I was pissed because my mom tricked me into going to the game, and I needed her car to leave… oh man- just weird shit that are all obvious to read into and I feel silly for having them… it’s like JEEEE-SUS.

I went shopping (this is not a dream) for my birthday breakfast today- salmon, capers, cream cheese and the closest thing I could get to a bagel. It’s totally NOT a bagel, but I’m real good with my imagination- and I have a real fancy bottle of champagne- so I plan to bring in 30 with a little treat for myself. Then I am going to lunch with the girls. And then I think I’m gonna get a tattoo. (I feel so naughty about that… tee-hee).

All my friends are really loving on me right now- it’s kinda overwhelming. For the first 6 months I could hardly get them to open up- and then, like when you try and try to open a jar and it suddenly gives- so too did they with their friendship. And for the last 6 months I have been forging some really important wonderful friendships. But the shit that’s gone down in the last week- saying goodbye when it feels so fucking premature- we all just fell in love! And now it’s later days to the Yank. Anyway- they have a few pints and its “we love chase” time. It’s kinda intense. Nice and sweet, and feels really good (even though inside I am laughing aloud at them all.. cuz their such saps…) but still it’s kinda heavy.

Turning thirty tomorrow. Wow.

That’s so fucking awesome I can’t even deal. Dirty Thirty.

Thirty is a full fledged grown up. I’m like a big kid now. That’s so wild.

I’m a grown up and it’s fucking cold today. Oh yea, and did I mention that I am grown up without HEAT IN MY APT. Wow does this suck. I’ve never not had my heat work in my life. Lemme tell you it really sucks. It’s so cold in here… ahhh. All I can do is laugh at the absurdity of this country. I called my land lord a MONTH ago about the heat. Don’t know why I should be surprised it’s still not fixed, and now it’s like, fuck it, it’s just a week + I can make it. But fuck it sucks. Sincerely.

Anyway- in the words of my favorite red head, “You need 4 inches of bod and a great birthday”

IT’S A LOVE FEST

Here in Rome. Leaving in a week and 1/2. Turning 30 in two days… oh just let the celebrations begin. And they have.

We celebrated my last Friday night of my 20’s, and I suffered greatly on Saturday… but Suzie and Zoe disguised as a UPS package (as if) weaseled their way into my apartment and bloody mary in hand carried me out to celebrate me last SATURDAY night in my twenties.

Next week is already a blur and I it hasn’t even happened yet. SPQR baby. SPQR.

I’ve decided to get a third tattoo to commemorate my time here. I think I will do on the Tuesday. I like to bring in decades with a bit of irreverent behavior. The last night of my teens I shaved my head bald. (thank you very much for your help Max Wheeler)…

But thirty needs champagne and caviar no? Too bad I’m so broke it’s more like Prosecco and gnocchi, but do I sound like I’m complaining?

On a different note quite suddenly it became winter here. I mean holy fucking shit it is cold. Too cold to go outside to smoke a cigarette, you need a COUPLE of coats to just walk down the street. I’m sure last night was in the low 30’s. I don’t think I could take it all winter. I don’t know how people do it.

I tell you one thing, my ass is RUNNING back to the wintertime in LA. Gimme some bitches in bikinis on rollerblades on the beach. Woo-hoo heat and alliteration. That’s what I am looking for. I say god damn.

But so anyway- I am leaving so so soon, and it’s a love fest out here. Can’t believe I am leaving. I just, can’t believe it. I think actually maybe it hasn’t hit me? How is that possible? I feel really aware and present- it’s just, I can’t believe that I am not going to get to walk into fins and see 25 people I know at any giving moment. I think I get the big picture, but it is the little things that I don’t even know that I love that I will miss- I have that feeling very strongly.

Is it possible that there is something greater at work here? That, for all my introspection I have still somehow missed, the biggest part of this whole deal? Perhaps one day in a month or two I will be in Colorado with the boys or in LA at work or wherever the fuck, in whole foods and BAM, Whatever I feel I am missing, will hit me like a ton of bricks. And I will find myself in a whole in the sidewalk. Looking up at the sky- seeing in it a shade of blue for the first time? Or am I wrong about that.

Is the sky really just that color?

I also am feeling a little apprehensive about going to LA. It’s not so much that I won’t have fun, or love to see my people again, but I’m afraid that the silent sneaking depression that was so present in my life for the last few years of my tenure there, will return. I know I am in a different place and much stronger and smarter and whatever… I HAVE THIS. This thing inside me that I got from coming here. And I think it is probably strong enough to ward off whatever LA can throw at me. But I am still a little scared.

But I guess that means I’m paying attention. Wouldn’t be right if I turned 30, left Rome and moved in with my parents all in the same 2 weeks… I SHOULD BE SCARED. Which I guess is why I am excited to go.

Because I dig that what scares me. BRING IT THE FUCK ON. You know? Lets do this.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Stay the course Chase. Buy the ticket. Take the ride.

I say God damn. I’ll see those bikini clad bitches yet.