Snapshots

— I watched Mike Judge’s Idiocracy this weekend. It’s a bit brilliant. I especially loved his observation about the deterioration of the English language, how those who speak correctly will eventually be looked on with suspicion. It actually made me think of some of the early readers of my site who got irrationally annoyed when I would write about culture, or MOMA (one comment on this post in particular is indicative of the general vibe of much of my readership back then – although that one person was a prime culprit), because they were angry at the “elites” or whatever, and wanted to pull us all down to their mediocre level. I liked the movie a lot.

— I finished Lolita last night. I found the book completely shattering. I couldn’t wait to finish it, it was such a claustrophobic demented book. I had nightmares the entire time I was reading it. The claustrophobic feeling comes mainly from the first-person narration of Humbert Humbert, so clearly a mad man, and you can never get away from his skewed perspective. You are forced to experience the story through his despicable eyes. I found myself squinting at the page, quite literally, trying to see between the lines to what was really going on. It’s a devastating masterpiece.

— I got a bunch of things framed this weekend, and also bought a new Ralph Lauren comforter. A big pouffy thing with dark checks on one side and plummy-colored flowers and purple on the other side. It is beautiful. I am not sure how much longer I will be here, honestly, but I figured what the hell, let’s just keep investing in the space. It feels good. I like my home. I wonder where I will be at this time next year.

— I’ve had the flu for five days. I am so over it.

— I’ve lost 10 pounds. So I’ve got that going for me.

— I cannot wait to see Argo. Iran? Count me in, please.

— I miss Elvis desperately. I won’t lie. But I’ve needed to focus on other things. This has been a career-heavy couple of months.

— Unbelievably, I went through my library of books over the last couple of weeks and got rid of over five boxes of books. I donated them to the hippy-dippy store in the next town, a place I like to support. I do enjoy dropping off all of my warmonger books and right-wing literature there. I imagine them going through the donation and fainting in horror. Just kidding. They are very nice and I like supporting Mom and Pop shops, especially book stores. I am still amazed at the fact that I was able to go through my collection and really be firm with myself about it. It’s hard for me. As anyone who is a collector knows, though, once you start – you get more and more brutal with every second. You start to get very clear about “need” and “want”. Before you start the winnowing-down process, “need” and “want” feel like the same thing. But once you start going through the books, you start to realize: “You do not NEED this. You will not read it again. INTO THE PILE.” I kept the books essential to my research, the books I dip into all the time, but I got rid of a ton of stuff. I cleared out what amounts to an entire bookshelf. It felt GREAT.

— One of the most interesting things happening to me right now is the meetings I have been having, in regards to my script. It has taken me a bit of time to get used to it but what is happening is: People are pitching themselves to me. They want in. I am so used to feeling like a beggar, walking around begging people to take a look at my work, and feeling GRATEFUL when they do. All of that is on its ear now. I have something THEY want. The tables are turned. This is not me pleading for someone to listen. This is me, considering my options, listening to people tell me why they would be good for the project. It’s an amazing reversal and it has taken some getting used to. To approach these meetings in a place of groveling gratitude is not powerful. You need to own what you have done, you need to accept that you have written something that has value. Don’t be grateful for the attention, accept it as your due. Of course, inside I am very grateful, and happy that all of this is happening. But it has been an excellent reminder that when you write a story – when you create something – it is YOU who has the power. Important to keep that in mind, as dizzying as it is to get my head around it. I realize, dimly, at these meetings: “Wait … this feels different … what’s happening … oh … THEY are pitching themselves to ME … it’s not the other way around.” I am happy it’s all happening and just wish my Dad was here to enjoy it with me. But my family has been excellent. Everyone is very excited. So am I.