Step Into The Light

It's 2010, bitches. And I've decided to renew the blogging, but this time I'm not telling anyone about it. So if you're reading this, you're a resourceful, crafty m.f. and I salute you.

Today my phone rang once, while I was in the shower, with a call from a friend in Colorado. He had nothing particular to say, but it was the first phone call I've received from anyone resembling a friend since Saturday. Almost made a week, and I guess I still can if I'm only looking in the local set. Sometimes I just hate L.A. It's an incredibly lonely place and I'm sick and tired of being the one to initiate anything and everything that I do. I just want to be invited to do something -- is that so pathetic?

So thus begins the blog of 2010, not with a mighty, rallying cry but with a petite, unanswered whimper. I should start over.

I've discovered Californication -- the Showtime series with David Dachovny. It's much different that I had originally assumed and I'm quite enjoying it. It reminds me very much of my life minus the kid, the agent, the money, and the sex. But everything else -- ha ha -- is dead on, said the fish to the fly. The writing, or lack thereof, the girlfriend, or lack thereof, the angst. Dead on.

In other news, I'm running, painting, reading, and filling my days somehow despite the weight, but isn't that the way of the world? Isn't this how everyone, everyone moves and swims through the schmegma of the modern world? Run faster, the rallying cry goes, swim stronger. Consume and fight on, fight on.

Soup's on. To be continued...