Come Here You Little Golden Sexbomb!

The film I spent all last year sacrificing major hours of the prime of my youth to has just been nominated for a freaking OSCAR!
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, one entire year of my life, possibly the most difficult year of my life, to be honest, has been nominated for best visual effects.
Aside from the obvious joy and pride for it being the Year of the Gay Cowboy, I am now extremely grateful and utterly thankful for the experience which, at times, I thought would be the death of me. Many 80+ hour work weeks, disgusting meals for 100+ picky people, copies, faxes, meetings, cannisters of film and midnight drives to Burbank and beyond have surely paid off. This is why this work ROCKS!
In the words of a billion folks before me, "just to be nominated is an honor!"
FUCKIN AWESOME!

Alright...

Current mood: disappointed
Category: Friends

Like La Lopez before me I have had ENOUGH!!!!

I have often told my friends and lovers that because of a youth spent trailing behind my mother in her nomadic wanderings I have been left with little to no tolerance for prolonged relationships of any kind. I am awkward in them, to say the least. At times this has become the cause of many dramatics between me and my friends. I think for and about myself and act out of selfishness. This has ALSO been the cause of many dramatics between me and my friends. I have tried to learn how to be a responsible friend for many years, and despite all that I am still human and destined to fuck up sometimes. Many times.

I am angry right now. And I take full responsibility for my complete past, forgotten, unknown, horribly remembered and everything besides. But when I try to erase all of the stupid, convoluted dramatics and do something real, something separate from my past, someone must remind me of it. And so I think, "Alright: you've got me pegged, motherfucker. I AM Satan and you just figured out all the prophecies were TRUE!"

Sometimes I feel so much that I don't know what I'm doing and to try and contain myself seems Herculean. I end up exploding. And then I end up regretful.

I don't care anymore. Right now I feel like my best efforts continue to hand me right back into the arms of my past mistakes. SO the only thing I can think to do is explode here, very visibly, and then implode ever so gently and lick my self-imposed wounds.

This sounds very dramatic, and so I guess I come back to myself again. And lots of people may be foolish enough to buy what I'm selling and think that nothin makes me happier than to be this trumped-up character I've created, all frantic happiness, innocence, tattoos, wisdom, venom and madness.....

But believe me, if I could be anyone other than myself, don't you think I would be?

Fuck. Even I don't know the answer to that one.