Wednesday, 18. November 2009, 08:55:59
I'm doing something rather blasphemous. I'm writing, without feeling I have anything to write about.
I do it because I was just thinking yesterday how I hadn't seen a post on Allan's blog in a while... lo and behold, now there is one. It made me smile and then I realize -- hm, I haven't posted in a while.
I wish I could say I have some great genius ideas I needed to share -- I always do, at least when I first have them. I wish I could say I've become a well-regarded actor and performer who has complete financial independence. I wish I could say I had a job.
Alas... not much can I say. I have my health, my dreams and my foolishness. Plenty of the latter.
I've been thinking a good deal about my Gator lately. In part because I was quite pleased by her visit and partly because she's a highlight in my life with no real negativity associated with it. Pippy is great and all... oh, except for that part where she said don't ever speak to me again. Lo is fantastic and wonderful but now so caught up in her fiancé she can't remember how much she loves me (I know she does but the tangible is nice).
Oh... my, dare I share? Eh, I'll risk the misinterpretation -- thank goodness for anonymity -- Gator and I have more in common than I'd probably readily admit. We actually, currently, share the same musical taste. I'm not sure whether this is more offensive to her or to me. Having the taste of a soon-to-be teenage girl is not exactly something one wants to realize. Nevertheless, I liked Owl City way before she even heard of them.
Mostly, though, when real loneliness seems to overwhelm I can think about her without feeling guilty. With the other beautiful, charming and wonderful gals in my life, I've been a failure. I worry that I'll be that in Gator's life but I have hope for something better. I have a great deal of hope for her. In less than a month she'll turn into a teenager and it's scary.
She's a brat sometimes, annoying, loud but always lovable. When she was out visiting she demanded (and I obliged) I ride her around on my shoulders, as I did when she was 5. She's always been important in my life and it seems she still is, I just feel less comfortable with it. She's growing up, she's becoming a young-lady and if her sister is any indication she'll be a unbelievably gorgeous one.
Only a fool or a liar would claim she wasn't a beautiful girl already -- I've always thought so. Her sister used to love to joke that in 20 years we'd end up married. At the time, I was so entirely caught up in Lo, it used to make me laugh. She did have a guy-barbie-doll named after me but that wasn't what I imagined as a prelude to a future marriage.
And yet... now?
No. I have no idea where she'll be in 10 years, I hope, quite strongly, that it's at an excellent institution of higher learning where she's learning and not just partying. I want to see her as this amazing young-woman, a master of her world, herself and with passion and ability to match. I admit, I probably have less influence on this than I'd like.
Nevertheless, when I think of success here. What success here would be like, I think of her. I think of my family and myself but of my promise to her. It was silly, I would be surprised if she remembered (though I'm often surprised when it comes to her) my promise to make sure she had a choice on school if she worked hard and wanted it. That means around $35000 a year, not a particularly small amount of money. Considering I make no money right now (though I finally have two job prospects that look *very* good) it's a bit far-fetched that in a year and a half I could spring for it... but.
It seems like a worthy goal. The worthiest sort. Not for some future make-believe but for that little girl that won my heart so completely, riding my shoulders, watching movies, reading stories, sledding (at night!), snow fights, late-night snacks, singing, joking, prank phone calls, sand fights (very bad idea), volleyball, walking dogs, haircuts, getting caught by her, mini-golf, monkey bars and playgrounds, legos, barbies, coloring, pictures and late-night 1am sick phone calls cause she couldn't sleep.
I don't feel like a big brother, uncle or cousin, I don't feel like a boyfriend or anything, I don't feel like a friend or acquaintance. It's confusing to me. My dear H says that our relationship was in a Charles Dickens novel that she'd be my charge and I'd be her Guardian. "3 : one who has the care of the person or property of another" -- or a guard. Hm.
All my friends, universally and perhaps surprisingly, say it's a good thing. At the heart of it, I do just want to see her find her way in the world far better than I did... without all the pain... no-- no that's wrong. With someone to explain the pain. The idea that we can be protected and naive is silly. Life has pain, it's learning to deal with it, having those who love you no matter what, that makes it easier to bear. Unnecessary pain.
So. I'm trying to decide to get what for Gator's birthday, I think I want to get her a dress - something classy but not stuffy. I'll consult her sis, I certainly haven't the funds but if I can find a way that's the best idea I have now.
Of more significance is the fact that for the first time, ever, in Los Angeles I had a friend "drop-in" on me. It was exciting, she called and said she was in the neighborhood. I invited her to stop by and... she did! It was terribly exciting. A friend? A real true friend, perhaps?
It's been a year now, it'd be nice to possibly have found one.
Especially after I got rejected by all the girls at the coffee shop. A girl gave me a fake myspace page after we had a good conversation. It stung and goes to show how incredibly bitchy people can be here in Hollywood. I really liked her music, had spent half an hour listening and she gives me a fake myspace? I keep wanting to believe it was a mistake but, well, people don't mess up something so easy.
In acting....
I am so close I can taste it.
Perhaps... perhaps this is the biggest note in my long tirade. I've decided I am going to create a character.... who's an actor.
This may seem slightly silly, I admit, it seems silly to me. If I want to be an actor, why not just be an actor?
Well -- it's complicated. I've come to feel that Hollywood is so dang superficial that being a good actor... hell, a great actor isn't enough. You need youth, beauty and confidence. Just to name a few. All of those, to an extent, I can work on. I'm not that attractive but I can dress and style myself better. I can't get younger but I can lie unabashedly about my age. I don't have confidence about all things but I do about my ability to act. So why not act like I do?
The people who get noticed here, who make it here seem to have some confidence and tenacity that I, myself, lack. Not just in acting, but in performance in general, everything from girls to politics. I know life isn't so simple as to be that easily contained and described but I also know that those people who have that attitude and share it exude a great deal more power and influence than I.
I walk around Hollywood and see so many "characters", from bitchy people, to homeless, to those in costumes, to tourists from Japan to Germany, Russia to Brazil.
Sadly, I'm a bit of a nice guy... and that's a disadvantage -- something to be tucked away and left for close friends and family. What I need here is the ability to say, "Yes, I'm great" and mean it. It's been something I've been thinking about since I moved here. I'm under no illusion that such a ruse could continue if I were ever 'blessed' by stardom but one step at a time.
I don't know if it'll work but as a dear KLC just said to me, great things come from experimenting, so experiment until you find something that works. Just try things. It's so simple but something I hadn't been doing -- not wanting to make mistakes.
So the first thing I'm planning. This character, of an actor who is great and just, well, waiting to be discovered. I can play it. I am a great actor (when I'm on).
I'm scared but I'm doing a character analysis and creating them now. Not decided on a name, though I have ideas. (There are technical problems with using my own name, besides the fact it seems disingenuous).
I guess I'll see what comes. It might fail, but it's an interesting experiment.
Eh, I feel a little crazy after typing this all out. I sort of want to hit Ctrl+A and then Delete but ... well, that wouldn't be in the spirit of it, now would it.
I should start publishing the mad stories I have, someone might actually enjoy them.
For now, goodnight and good dreams to all you fair readers.
WIDGETIZE