5 Guys Named Jim or Something

"Everybody has a past. This one is mine."
-Sex, Lies, & Videotape


- I picked him up in the mall while he was frying.
He had long brown hair and huge shoulders.
I drove him to do a gun deal. I drove.
We fucked in his house drinking Budweiser and listening to Zeppelin,
He wore rings on both hands, and ate a lot of pizza.

- He was a redhead, and he said I stared him down.
He didn't care that his best friend liked me.

- He crossed the length of the club to talk to me.
I had never met a very tall long haired Chinese man from England before.
He was the bass player for a band that wasn't playing there that night.
I understood the insanity clause, and that prompted him to ask me out.
I accidentally gave him a bracelet.
We had an abortion.

- He saw me. Twice. Both times, stared.
He wasn't sure if he knew me or not.
I never let on.
I fly under the radar, baby
I'm just below the surface.

- Basically, he was a rich ass that treated me badly.
So I don't feel bad about making him pay for every sin that every one of his predecessors committed.
Until he'd had enough, and said no more.
And I said OK.

- I've only slept with maybe a half dozen girls.
Most of them have been named Laura,
which, has nothing to do with guys named Jim.
And I don’t think this is a poem.

hush. listen.

Read This.
- Khalel
Every ounce of it is quotable.


The Bible contains six admonishments to homosexuals and 362 admonishments to heterosexuals. That doesn't mean that God doesn't love heterosexuals. It's just that they need more supervision.
- Lynn Lavner

Homosexuality is God's way of insuring that the truly gifted aren't burdened with children.
- Sam Austin

Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on Saturday night.
- Woody Allen

My first words, as I was being born…I looked up at my mother and said «that’s the last time I'm going up one of those!
- Stephen Fry

Christianity has done a great deal for love by making a sin of it.
- Anatole France

My only regret about being gay is that I repressed it for so long. I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short.

- Armistead Maupin

Some Said I

And some said I
would be the one to forgive.
Some said I,
And some said I.

I had a point and a haunting.
Some sins are worth it.

If you listen
listen closely
If you stop speaking,
and you just listen,
The Earth tells you what to write.
It's there all the time.

But one latent whisper went unheard. Some said I,
and some said I.
He asked, Why aren't you listening. Why aren't you speaking.
Did you forget to remember?

I listened with too many ears.
And I am afraid of most people.

I don't know if these moments are forgiven.
But I know this:
All Words are redemption.

All our
Words
are our
redemption.

Can anyone be forgiven
for what they take and what they leave behind.
For what they know and what they've forgotten.
For what they say.
Signals and love.
Never again.
Can I be forgiven?
Can I tell your story?
I asked,
Can I see in the dark?

If you write the book, she said.
If you write the book.

Stories are researched.
Life is scripted.
Every script has a star.
Every book, an author.
Some said I.
And some said I.

"And now I understand
How much I took from you"
-Stephen Trask

.

No

I'll tell you what I want you to know. But I will say it my way.
I didn't open the floor for questions.

I had just moved there. I was 18. It was my first day at a job in a shoe store in the mall. The section in the back against the wall was called Siberia. His name was Jake. Tall, blond, and adorable. Funny as hell. I was supposed to help him shift the Connie's and the 9 Wests in Siberia. I had a huge stack of shoeboxes in my arms when I lost it, dumping them all. Jake stood there and watched as I fumbled about 10 pairs of shoes and their boxes all over me and the floor. He called me one of Jerry's kids. We laughed all night.

After work he took me to Jack in the Box for burgers. I thought he was so cool. King of the storeroom. He introduced me to his friends, took me to parties, showed me the town. He turned me on to Danny Elfman. He would let me read him things I was working on. He was interested.

He kissed me once. My head spun.

I'll tell you what I want you to know.
The rest, I let go.

After Dinner

"You're so beautiful
You could be a waitress."
-Flight of the Conchords



Me - So he said he should wear a sign: WILL WEED FOR WEED.

LD - (sigh) That is just so funny on so many levels.

Me - Wait. What?

LD - Oh look over there. That's my client. She's the one that said I was making her armpits sweaty.

Me - I ordered t-shirts for the blog.

LD - I've been watching a lot of Three's Company lately.

Me - 'Should have them up on the site in July.

LD - John Ritter was so funny.

Me - I liked your hair better when it was blue.

LD - This feels incoherent.

Me - I think we aren't drinking enough. Wait, who's armpits are sweaty?

LD - So did he get weed or what?

Raised the Bar

Anyone who's ever made that cross country drive,
I-40 through the desert,
Anyone who has been there knows
That feeling
Of looking into the horizon that encircles you.
Where you see
Clearly
The place where sky meets earth, in front of you. Beside you. Behind you.

Because death is peace,
No matter how violent or hard the passing is, death is peace.

Because he painted a portrait with every single scene.
And he brought us on a journey,
And then gave us total closure.
He redefined art.
Because he changed the landscape and raised the bar.

Alan Ball is a fucking genius.




And no one can honestly ever say that
about David Chase.

Derisive

He reached.
Had he been reaching all along,
He would have hit it on his own.

"They didn't like my ending." He shrugs, he waves to the waiter. He sighs.

"They didn't tell me that. Actually they told me you didn't finish. They told me I was writing the ending for you." I stop speaking about it when the waiter arrives.

I order my usual Dirty Martini, he orders a Bombay and tonic. "Everybody's drinking gin now, martini's are out." He's pushing now, not reaching.

I let him go with it.

"I wrote the ending I had in my head when I started the damn thing." He says its the only way he could imagine it. It was always that way. That one way.

"How do you know there's only one way if you haven't looked at others?" I try to look more comfortable then I'm feeling.

"Are you making fun of me?" He looks defensive. Not reaching.

"I'm not. There's nothing derisive here." They're not using his ending. They've brought in a ghost writer. Obviously. He knows this. I want to remind him but I don't. It will only prevent his reaching. Sometimes the cold hard truth is not the way to get there.

The waiter returns with our drinks.

I pick up my glass and I tilt it for him. "I started drinking martinis about ten years ago. Long before the resurgence. Do you know how it became my signature drink? How I decided on the martini."

He shakes his head no. He looks at me like he's curious. He reaches for it. "How?"

"I tried it on. I stood in the mirror, and I held a wine glass. And I held a margarita glass. And a rocks glass. Even a brandy snifter. I tried on different looks. It's an accessory like anything else. I tried on the martini. And it worked. It fit. Felt right. Looked right. But then I had to tailor it. So I started ordering them. Different ways, different vodkas. I kept trying them on. Narrowing it down, working on it." I sip, I take an olive from the toothpick. I stir. Swallow. I sip again. He watches.

"It works like that with scenes, too. Endings. Characters. Words. Sometimes you have to keep trying them on, changing them, working them." Sometimes you think you know how your story ends, until you try on a different possibility. And see what looks better.

He sips his drink and grins. He reaches. "So you think I should change my ending for them."

"I think you should try on some different ones. They don't have to see it. Just you in private. Try on some different possibilities. Write it out every way you can think of. Even the ways you're sure won't fit."

He nods a little. "Do you think I will change my mind?"

I shrug. "You may."

He reaches. "I'm only going to find out that I was right."

We drink. There's nothing derisive here. "So be it."

Sorta

Prima Donna Rockstar: I'll autograph my CD for you. Who should I make it out to?


Me : To "Lucky Ebay Winner".

No Judgments. Ever.

Calm and Sincere

"I know you like to eat cold cereal out of a mug instead of a bowl. I know how you got that little scar over your eye. I know the real reason you don't swim in the ocean is because you're afraid of sharks. I know you, Veronica." He is calm and sincere. He is seeing right through me.

"I'm OK." I'm not calm. Or sincere. I'm invisible.

"No. You're not." He knows.

I've written things that were rejected before. Contract disputes, money, change of direction, deadline shift. There are a million reasons why that have nothing to do with the quality of my writing.

"How fragile is your ego. You know you can write. Everybody knows you can write. Why do these things get to you? I don't understand." He pets me on the head, the way you can with someone you've known forever. He's calm and sincere. And it's welcoming.

I'm fragile sometimes.
In some ways.
Regarding some things.
This isn't usually one of them.
Or maybe it is.
Who knows.
I'm not sincere. Or calm.
Or maybe I am.

"I know you, Veronica. And I know just what you need tonight."
He grins.
And he does.






"Right now
I think I'm gonna plan a new trend
Because the line on the graph's getting low
And we can't have that.
And you think you're immune
But I can sell you anything."
-Joe Jackson