Another...

Another day, another cry! Tears of pain? Fuck crying & feeling sorry for yourself dolls! Live a little! Try tears of joy through living! 

Well it's another day in... Las Vegas for moi. And for you? Well as always I'll tell you it's about where you are mentally and a lot less about location. It's the journey not the destination, but you can not make the journey til you decide what you want.  

Anyhoo, I've got a few of the D-Women I will be dropping shortly. In addition to a new ebook comprising of all 26 women shortly to follow. One is a cryer, but she's... I'll let you find out! 

Have you ever worked on a series? Do you give sneak peaks? 

Here's part of the perspectives... Are you excited to read the whole novel?! 

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Another Day in L.A.

(1-10-2011)

Everyone is high and it’s a quarter to three. We’re at this house on Mulholland. It belongs to an agent of a someone who has a friend who has a house. It’s not the scene I want to make but Alex is still M.I.A. I can’t remember what I told the driver to do. This is fabulous L.A. and you hate L.A. Maybe this is why I came here because I knew you’d never follow. That’s a lie though. I need a hit. There’s music here but it sounds more like a Christmas station than a party. Jemma introduces me to this model. She poses for sunglasses and has something I might be interested in. I don’t know what she’s selling but the conversation is so much more interesting than the party already.

“So you model sunglasses?”

“Yeah. What do you do?”

“You’re looking at it. How’s that working out for you?”

“I don’t know. I sort of fell into it.”
That’s what they all say… fall into it here. Fall into what exactly. She keeps talking about herself and ends up telling me that this gig has nothing to do with clothes. Tells me that the photogs make her stand around naked wearing these oversized glasses for GUCCI or Tommy or Calvin. Whatever shots they don’t use for the print are considered art. Art. That’s what pornography goes for around here. I wish you were here, but I’m not wet enough yet. In fact, the daylight is drying me up more and more. Jemma has a drink and is stepping into the water. It’s ok to take a pill but not the candy. She smiles and mouths the words ‘let’s go’. I nod and tell the naked model it was a pleasure. She grabs my hands writes down her number. I’ll never call it. We’re leaving.

It’s 4:30. There’s a feeling of recognition as we pass this Taco stand. I remember you like that kind of place. I call the driver. Tell him to please stop in a whisper. He slams on the brakes in the middle of traffic and maneuvers into the opposing lane and reverses quickly. Jemma is still out. Too much booze and pills. She didn’t need to relax that way. I don’t care. I’m hungry.

Eating. But where are you? You know you want some. Of course you do. Oh there you are. Alex rings as we are eating. Chaz is happy because I bought him something and he’s talking to this Israeli voice on speakerphone. The whole parking lot can hear it. So far I’ve learned he is fluent in thirteen languages. All of which are not English. All of this I’ve learned while we’ve talked on the phone. I’ve also learned that Alex is in the valley somewhere. Then I remember why you hate LA but it’s too late you‘ve already disappeared again.

The people here keep staring. One guy finally gets the nerve to walk over. He’s wearing a torn AC/DC shirt and carrying a pair of jeans over his shoulder. His boxer’s have Tweety birds on them. I can’t wait for what he has to say. Chaz keeps talking to someone from Israel. The pant-less man asks me about the dead girl with her face in my crotch. I tell him she isn’t dead and this is where she likes to put her face when sleeping. He nods and asks to shake my hand. I smile and ask about a cigarette. He hands me his pack of Reds. Jemma isn’t around to care. She may as well be some dead girl with her face in some guy’s crotch. I couldn’t leave her in the car alone. It would have been like leaving a Chihuahua in a hot car. Sleeping beauty yawns then sneezes in my crotch. I can’t help but laugh. You’re missing all the fun. Stop hating it here. It’s fabulous.

Chaz calls me for instructions while standing three feet away. I tell him this address that Alex gave me. He nods and says he can get us there. Alex better be there. AC/DC shoots me a “thumbs up” as I carry my lifeless doll to the car. He thinks I’m a rapist. Lucky me.

Somewhere on the freeway in the middle of five o’clock traffic at six-thirty, Chaz phones to say we’re lost. Jemma looks alive again and asks where we are. When I tell her she says to get off on the next exit. She doesn’t know about Alex. I’m almost dry again. We need to find Alex.

Alex phones to tell me he’s standing at The Grove beneath a tree. He says, “One of those fake trees that never needs water” and that he has a giant plastic sword in his left hand. I can only imagine what that means. Jemma hears about Alex and wants to go home. I let her have the car and get out to find Alex who is waiting next to a fake tree where he said he would be.

“Wanna hit?” I posture.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“What are we doing here?”

“This guy Carlos is making the scene with some guy that works at the MAC counter.”

“There’s a MAC counter here? Who’s Carlos?”

“Oh he’s staying with me. Hey you look good. Did you get some sun or something?”

“Or something. Where are you staying?”

“Wayne.”

I get quiet because Wayne isn’t calling me he’s calling Alex to make arrangements for places to stay in L.A. and instead of getting upset I take a hit under the fake plastic tree.

All around us the world has vomited MTV colored people and killed the chance of individuality. There are three girls that fell out of the television walking by us. Shirts for dresses and leggings instead of pants. It doesn’t matter. One of them smiles and I talk to her. She wants to know where I got my pants. Tells me that she’s hungry. I smile and tell her another time. She grabs my hand and kisses me. Friendly place and you’re not around. Alex asks about the pool again. I want to know about Wayne.

The car is moving slower than it feels down the avenue. My head is spinning when I close my eyes. The hot air of the evening is hitting my face with full force. I want to be sick and say pull over. Alex says not to close my eyes. It’s hard not to. Carlos wants to get out on some random corner at a red light. It’s a scene and Alex wants to fight. We pull over. Out they go.

“Get back in.” Alex yells.

“I’m not following that crowd. I don’t care.”

“I’m not kidding around, you’re out you’re out.”

“I guess I’m out then.” Carlos shrugs his shoulders and walks away.

Alex chases him and plants a long kiss on his face. Carlos leaves anyway. I’m not amused by these games. I just want to know about Wayne. Why won’t anyone tell me about Wayne? You shouldn’t come out. This is the type of party you might drown at.

It’s 8 pm we’re heading up to the floor beneath the floor at the top of a downtown skyscraper. I can’t tell what day it is even though it is still the same one. I think three have passed but it only been one. It’s too bad you hate L.A. This has been interesting. Alex says this guy can get us wet. I’m glad. There’s no where to go and I forgot to call Chaz back for the car. I’m not worried about you right now. There’s a party on the floor below the one at the top. This is a private residence and there’s a lock on the elevator.

At the party Jemma is here, standing in the corner with that naked model from earlier as we exit the elevator I wonder “Who the fuck lives here?” out loud. Alex reaches over and tells me to stop talking to myself. I tell him that this isn’t possible and take a hit. It’s my last one. Jemma comes over and introduces me to her naked model friend again. I ask them about candy. They tell me to ask this guy named Frankie over by the bar. I try to keep walking. Alex gets in my way with another character that I don’t know.

“This is Wayne’s associate, Paul. It’s his place.”

“Hey Paul.”

“How are you liking the town? I heard you aren’t a fan of the city.”

“It’s cool. We haven’t been around much yet.”

Alex looks at me to say chill out. I can’t help it when I’m out in the middle of no where and dry.

“Paul, tell Adrian about the penthouse.”Alex keeps trying to make us friends. I want to talk to Wayne.

I smile and the awkward moment passes.

The man with the candy at the bar is amazing. Frankie is now my new friend that takes pictures of the naked model for Complex. The naked model says that he’s really a she, and that I should stop saying “him.” I tell her  “tomaytoes tomahtoes”  and my new friend laughs hard and slaps me on the arm before telling me about his place upstairs. I tell him that I think he has a better view because his place is on the top floor. He says to stop by anytime. This means later tonight. I call Alex. He is in the bathroom with Paul. I tell him we’re going to this place later. He doesn’t care and hangs up. Jemma is standing next to this guy that’s on TV. I’ve never seen him, but the naked model keeps saying his full name and touching me when she talks about his show. I don’t want to hear about it. His show is unimportant and probably going to get cancelled, but I want her to keep touching me, so I listen. My new friend laughs some more and passes me another handful of candy. We’re almost done here.

The color of the top floor is aquamarine when we exit the elevator. There are lights everywhere and custom blown glass windows circling the place. I can’t imagine anything more beautiful at the moment. Even the naked model is a pale shade of ugly in comparison. In the middle of the place rests an oversized fountain with matching lights that blink intermittently to the music that’s playing. The guy takes out his camera and naked model gets naked. It’s all very day in and day out to them. She looks like this is what she does. I can feel myself already bored with her nudity and wanting to find Alex and Paul. The man behind the lens stops taking photos and starts making out with naked model. Everyone here is bored and ignoring it. Even they get bored of each other and stop kissing. As I’m heading toward the elevator, the music changes and the entire place turns magenta. I’m watching the skyline pop colors outside when I realize this view rotates. Then entire floor is encased in an Ovular bubble that spins slowly. How appropriate.

Alex is already waiting downstairs in the car. I can’t remember where he got the car or what happened to Carlos. We’re heading back to the hills where I can see the view of the valley but not be a part of it. Jemma went home with that TV guy. I don’t care. We aren’t sleeping together again.

It’s 1 at night when we find the place in the hills. It’s the same color as the place we went to earlier. The gate has a coded entry. Alex reaches over and enters the wrong number. He does this three more times before giving up. It’s time to go back down the hill and find another party instead. I take out something for the ride. Alex turns up the radio and we drive off into the warm night.

It’s 7am on the corner of Hollywood and Vine. I don’t understand how so much can happen in three days. But it has. Alex is buying a star map from a man that looks like Sylvester Stallone’s cloned midget with a bad Rambo haircut and accent. We aren’t anywhere near the place where Carlos told as to meet him an hour ago. I think it’s on Sunset but Alex disagrees. There’s a boot on the car and it’s parked in front of a hydrant ten blocks away. There’s a lot of people walking around. Everywhere. I keep talking to the people who are waiting to cross the street. I’m drying up but loving every minute of it. Do you remember last night? I can remember making time with a white-haired girl in go-go boots for money and that it wasn’t something I wanted to do. Were you around when I wasn’t looking? Sneaky. So much for hating this place.