CLOSURE

We live in a weird world.

Example #1: I was addicted to Craig's List's Los Angeles Rants and Raves section for quite some time. I used to go on the board and stir up shit, mostly because I was bored and angry.

Nowadays, I visit sporadically, and I don't post as often as I used to. But what's amusing is that people still remember my obnoxious posts. Seems that there is a new asshole on board, and evidently people have confused him/her with me. My old handle was invoked, which caused me great delight when I logged onto Craig's List an hour ago.

One person in particular, a girl whom I met on CL (who I refer to as "Buffy"), keeps trying to call me out. She and I used to IM each other. She still wants to brawl with posts, and I hardly care anymore.

I began to think about how drastically my life has changed in just six short months, and I think about how I don't need to stir up anonymous trouble online anymore.

I think that is called 'progress' but I could be mistaken.


Example #2: Friday night, after having dinner with Purple Paulie, Nona, and Peter, we stopped by a friend's home to watch some animation dailies. The house belongs to one of our voice talents, an actor who is out of town right now and depends on Paulie and Nona to housesit the dog.

Before watching the dailies, we did a channel check and ended up on the original Star Trek series. I used to hate this show as a kid-- not enough monsters in it for me. I personally preferred The Outer Limits and The Twilight Zone to the exploits of the USS Enterprise.

When I was older and sharing an apartment with Paulie, I developed an appreciation for the show, based on the camp factor. No, I didn't become a Trekkie... but I did see the appeal after many years of detesting the show for being boring.

Anyway, suffice it to say I am not the biggest ST fan, and haven't seen more than a handful of episodes in their entirety. I had never seen the episode we happened to be watching the other night before, so imagine my surprise when one of the characters shared the same name (real, not pseudonymous) as Eve.

What's more: the plot of this episode revolved around this character's seductive powers. She rendered men insane by causing them to love her obsessively. She killed men by making them fall in love with her.

After a day that found me posting about the possibility of seeing Eve again, needless to say I was shocked to hear the following line of dialogue:

"Don't love her! If you love her, you'll die! Oh, M______, I love you!"

The actor who recited that line fell to his knees, as the beautiful character who shared the same birth name as Eve smirked and sneered.

I laughed.

At the risk of sounding like a complete kook who thinks the TV is talking to him, I got the message loud and clear.


Example #3: File this one under "L.A. Drama"...

I saw Ellen, one of Holly's friends, at the Garage on Friday, before I went to dinner with Paulie and friends. She informed me that Holly Golightly hadn't left town yet, due to the hurricanes and storms that were rocking the south.

I felt a momentary pang of guilt for not having called her on what was supposed to be her last day in the city. But I thought better of it-- I mean, it's not like she called me either.

Fast-forward to 3AM-- I was trying to fall asleep in my bed when I heard the phone ring. I figured it was Paulie, calling to make sure I got home OK, and so I ignored it and kept on trying to snooze.

I woke up on Saturday morning and checked my messages. The message was from Evan, the drummer in our band. He had called me at 3 AM to tell me that he heard from two reliable sources that Holly "got her ass kicked" in front of The Fox & The Hound in Studio City... by none other than her good friend Deborah!

I called Evan to confirm this. He said that he got a call around 2 AM from a friend who informed him that Holly was getting beat up in the parking lot by another woman. Then, Evan said, he received a message from Deborah, who was in tears. Evan got a hold of her and found out that she was the one who fought with Holly.

Hearing this news caused a mix of emotions in me. At first, I'll admit it-- I started laughing. I was still a little sore at Holly for her comments and behavior when I was hanging out with her last. And I know Holly well enough to know that she picks a lot of fights and talks a lot of shit, and it was only a matter of time beofre someone put her in her place... I just had no idea that it would be Deborah!

As I called various friends and bandmates up to get the scoop, I couldn't help but notice how forthcoming everyone was in regards to Holly. They were glad she was leaving; they felt burned by her in some way, either emotionally or physically; it seemed obvious to me that everyone had been holding back their contempt for her for a long, long time.

I tripped out as the bad blood came gushing out of everyone's mouths. They told me about the lies, the mind games, the deep-deated issues, like the real reason why Holly went to the Florida Keys a few months back. The reason? She wanted to crash her father's birthday party. You see, Holly's father left her when she was small, and she harbors much anger towards him. But to hear that story was a bit of a heartbreaker, because of the desperation involved in such an act. To impose oneself where they are not invited is more pathetic than crass, in my book.

Of course, all of these people took the opportunity to gossip. Thus, I "learned" that the reason why Holly makes out but never gives it up to her many suitors is because she has a deformity "down there"... This was coming from Evan, however, and his credibility is dubious at best. He doesn't know this information "first-hand", in other words-- he heard it from scores of guys who were no doubt upset that they didn't get laid with Holly. But then again, it would explain her uptightness concerning the sex act...

It is strange for me to hear people unveil their hidden animosities, because I belong to the "tell it like it is" school of Tactless Confrontation. That is, unless you have your head buried in the sand, you will ALWAYS know when I'm upset, because I do not hold back on that emotion. I may keep my crushes and infatuations cloaked and disguised, but you will know if I am mad or not in no uncertain terms. And so it is weird for me to hear others let loose and kick a person when they are down, even if she did things to deserve or warrant such abuse. It is weird because I'm so used to hearing them fake it up, never saying what's really on their minds for fear of offending smeone. To hear all these fake people suddenly drop the masks and own up to their hatred and bias is an unspeakably radical undertaking.

Suddenly, I felt sick. I no longer found this particular epilogue to a year-long saga funny. It made me a bit sad, to tell the truth. It saddened me because I know how fucked up Holly Golightly is, and I know she is a miserable person who cannot be happy with herself unless she has proven to everyone else that she is special. But what's really sad is that she brought all of this upon herself by not allowing anyone to help her center herself.

She always felt that the solution to her problems would be to get rich and famous. Instead, she is being chased out of town like a hunted animal in flight. She is not so much Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's as she is Blanche DuBois from A Streetcar Named Desire.

Yes, this town is brutal and unrelenting, but you really have to be a first-class asshole to incur the wrath of so many people in such a short time.

I flashed back to our conversation in the car over David Lynch's Mulholland Drive. I suddenly saw her in the Naomi Watts role, transforming from the happy-go-lucky aspiring starlet into the beaten and jaded wannabe-actress who missed all of her big breaks.

I wondered if there was anything I could do, and I realized that, no, there wasn't. She didn't want my help. She didn't want anything from me except to hear me agree with everything she ever said. And anyone who knows me well knows that getting me to agree with anyone on ANYTHING is a small feat unto itself.

Maybe if Holly had been interested in me as a person, then I would've done whatever it takes to help her find her way. But she didn't want anything from me, because I am not rich and I do not own a studio. Never mind that I was the most dedicated person in her band-- if it didn't nab her the brass ring, then it didn't mean anything to her.

An odd combination of pity and numbness filled me up inside. She let the city win.

I shook my head as I walked out the door, heading over to Evan's place to talk about this some more. Holly and Evan didn't get along, and so his words were not going to be sparing. I don't begrudge him that-- Holly was terrible in her treatment of him when the band was going full-swing.

I just have an image of an event I never saw take place, that of Holly being knocked down to the ground by the Amazonian Deborah. I imagine the pain that such a public humiliation could arouse in a massively insecure girl like Holly Golightly, who (despite my name for her) never really did go all that lightly about her business in the first place.

We live in a weird world, and what's weirder is that I'm getting by without getting caught up in all of the spectacle. I have found an even road upon which to travel, and it all has to do with escaping into my art. I was patting myself on the back today, congratulating myself for never falling prey to Holly's charms, for having the foresight to avoid getting mixed up in her bullshit, even as I spent over a year pining away for her and wishing that she and I could get together.

I feel proud, because in the past I would've been such a sucker. I would've fallen for her. I would've taken the bait, and suffered the consequences, all in the name of "passion". And for what? So that I could watch her self-destruct? So that I could be put through the wringer by someone who claims to love me?

I'm through with trouble women. I used to be able to pick 'em like nobody else. I'm still picking them, but I'm using my better judgement by not getting mixed up in their personal intrigues.

I'm getting better at this stupid, petty game called Life. I laugh in self-defense, really. I laugh at the absurdity, at the improbability, at the calamity and disorder and ruin that is modern existence. Talking with all these people today made me realize that, although my misanthropy continues uncontested, I can make my time on this planet more bearable by not actively participating in the idiocy that everyone else seems to to thrive upon, in order to get their kicks.

I also found it appropriate that my blog archives were accidentally erased quite recently. A good portion of those half a million words were dedicated to this rock-and-roll soap-opera, and not having them around for reference makes me feel clean, whole, perhaps even new. I need not be reminded of my weakness for a pretty face and a lovely voice. I can move forward now, leaving all of the vindictive spectres of my past behind me.

If I love women like Eve or Buffy or Holly, they will kill me. Plain and simple. The TV didn't lie on Friday night-- every other night it is full of shit, but last Friday it was truthful and accurate.

It's not just weird out there-- it's wicked, too. It's weird and wicked and wild in the real world, and there's a lesson for each of us to learn out there, every single day of our respective lives.

I hope I have learned mine.