Monday
Felt like I owned the world most of the day. Drove
around listening to Stevie Wonder sing about how, he believes, when he falls in
love, this time it will be forever. Waited for the phone to ring. Rented a
suite at The Palm (Hard Rock was booked), arranged for an Expedition. I hear
the Ghost Bar on top of The Palm is the shit. Barry's already thinking about
what substances he can fuck himself up on in addition to the unopened bottle of
Makers Mark that I KNOW is going to end up in the truck. (And if this girl
doesn't call me, I'm gonna fucking well join him in as much abuse as I possibly
can.)
So, Jen, the girl I was seeing,
comes into my office and she knows I'm going to Vegas and she may have heard
talk about Danielle (the other girl) floating through the back room or whatever
and so, she comes in says, "So, um, if you get a hooker or something in Vegas, I
really don't wanna hear about it. I just don't wanna know.
Okay?"
And so I say, "What? Do you
really think I would get a hooker in Vegas?" And she just looks at me and her
eyes are watering and she says, "Well, I mean, I don't know what's going on in
your life right now, but if you do anything like that, I just don't wanna hear
about it here. I don't want to
know."
So I say, "Okay, I'm gonna ask
again. Do you really think
that
I
would get a hooker in
Vegas?" And she says, "No." And then tells
me that she had a really bad weekend. That she hasn't cried about me/us in
weeks and this weekend she couldn't help herself. And it's flattering and kind
of sweet that she's so attached, but I don't feel the same way and I feel bad
but there isn't anything I can do about it. So, I just tell her I won't be
getting any hookers in Vegas -- that my goal for Vegas is to gamble my per-diem
into enough cash to meet some bills. I tell her I hope she feels better --
cause I sure as hell don't want to give her a sense of hope. I mean, she is a
great girl -- but not the girl for me. I'd love to be her friend.
Just
her friend.
Finished outlining a rough
but totally pitchable version of the UFO movie. I know it absolutely KICKS
FUCKING ASS. I think I can get my agents excited about it. (I know, repeating
myself)
Spent the night shooting a
spoof version of a VH1 BEHIND THE MUSIC interview segment for a friend's one-man
comedy show.
She didn't call.
(Although I realize she just got back yesterday or something and she's probably
gotta settle in. Fuck man, I hope she calls. I'm strung out and jonesing
here.)
Did I mention that she didn't
call?
Posted: Tue - July 13, 2004 at 12:45 AM