2006-07-27

As It's been about a whole month since I've updated here, I'll keep the news brief...

Got a part in a movie. A small part.

Shot the movie.

My agent has been getting me more auditions. Still following my own leads.

Denny's sucks, but not as much as the oft vandalized Denny's of yesteryear.

Gave in and chopped my hair in a fit of pique. It's ear-length... ish.

Have finally ended my friendship with Krazy K. Well, she ended it, really. I told her I couldn't be around her anymore until I knew she'd been in a live-in 28-day rehab program. She went off on me about how I must not be her friend if I think she's lying about not drinking and going to AA meetings. I concurred. Friendship done. Is it bitchy that I feel relieved to be done with her?

Have met a nice, normal friend and have been having nice, normal movie marathons.

Have joined a dating site for BBWs and the men who like them. I don't know. Why not?

Hmmm. Think that's it for news.

Now for the finshing off of that Idol thing that keeps breaking into part after part after part.

When we last left off, a group of us motley Idol cast-offs and our cohorts were outside the Roosevelt Hotel, wondering if we'd get into the special people party.

Ace, of course, is allowed in, but they're eyeing the rest of us like those legendary Studio 54 bouncers. Ace says we're with him. They're all "Firecode.... Really crowded... Don't know... Blah."

Ace goes in to see if he can talk to someone while his brother sweetly waits with us to make sure we get in. The gal in charge says he should just go in and she'll see about wristbands. He's reluctant (aw!), but we urge him to go on. We'll be fine.

And we were. We just had to wait a bit. While waiting, we saw Carmen Rasmussen looking very Mormon in a white suit (and they only barely let her in. It was that kind of party).

bobby is given the go-ahead. He doesn't want to leave us all in the lurch (and especially not me who drove there), but he figures he can help out more from the inside.

Ken and Nigel pull up. Upon seeing me, Nigel makes an escalator joke. Oh, har-har! I'm just sooooo glad, one again, that that is my defining moment. I think I need to puke on the president's shoes next just to top it off.

Mikalah Gordon goes by. And I take back every rude thing I said about her last season. I talked to her for a bit and she really is kinda sweet.

Anyway, waitng....

Waiting....

I call Bobby to tell him that maybe I can just go. I'm feeling more sober and he can get a ride from someone. He refuses this option. I try to sway him further, but suddenly...

We're in!!!

And that stuff about firecode may just be right. It's this outdoorsy area around a pool, but it's jammed.

As I'm feeling sober, I decide to go for more chardonnay. But there's this other thing about chardonnay. I think that it kind of picks up where it left off even if you think you've sobered up.

My first glass, rather than mildly relaxing me gets me right back into the giggly, incomplete sentences phase.

Glass one:

I see one of the producers. Let's not name him, though. He tells me they made a demo of me for Hairspray and that I might like it. I say "Hell, yeah. I want it." I write my email and number on a slip of paper I find in my purse and tell him we can work out how I might get it. (still haven't. And I've been bugging him extra hard as somebody from focus Features called me and they want a demo asap! I want to give them a demo. But I don't have one. Sigh.)

Glass two:

Some of the editors recognize me and know me as a Twopper. We chat a bit about that. They seem to be fans of the site and especially love the Tsatthoggua thing. Cool.

I see another producer, girl this time. She looks remarkably like former child star, current lead singer of Rilo Kiley Jenny Lewis. I babble this info to her. She even knows who Rilo Kiley is. Cool.

Glass three:

Things get fuzzy around here.

I see Mandisa. We sit and chat. Don't really remember what about. I see Will's sister has taken her shoes off. I decide to do the same and toss them in my purse. (Dumbass!!!!)

I see Kelly, Bucky, and Elliot. I say hey.

I talk to Mikalah Gordon a bit. Sweet, like I said.

Glass four:

I spend a good deal of time chatting with this really sweet guy and his boyfriend. He's awesome! Everyone's awesome! I'm drunk! Love all around!

Glass five-ish?

A nice lady named Therese recognizes me and asks me to autograph something for her sister. A fan? Of me? Aw!

I betcha I've passed from her and many other memories (if I was even there to begin with), but still... aw!

I see Taylor Hicks flanked by guards. I shout a congratulations his way. I really did want him to win. I love me some gravelly voiced singin.

Moved onto Diet Coke:

This, actually, doesn't help as the drunken damage is done, but I'm thinking of poor Bobby at this point and whether or not he'll have to hold my head over the toilet (He won't, though. I might have been better off had I puked, considering the audition I had the next day. iI may have been marginally less hungover had I vomited one of the bottles of wine deep inside me).

At this point it's... blur... Kevin Covais... Hi, Kid!.... Blur... Hi, Lisa Tucker... fleeting thought about how I shouldn't be flaunting my drunkenness in front of impressionable young things.... blur.... Hi, Nice guy and his boyfriend again.... email exchange.... blur.... I'm hungry.... blur.... Bobby, let's go to Denny's.... Shot down. Bobby wants to just go home.... blur... leaving... Hey, where's my shoe?

Shoeless walking back to parking garage.

Getting car from valet guys.

Stopping for gas and smokes.

Keep fumbling lighting cigarette.

Bobby giggles at my antics.

I start doing Courtney Love impersonations again for his amusement.

Getting back to Bobby's friend's place.

Obviously, I'm not driving to Megan's place to sleep over before the audition. I'm not driving anywhere.

I crash with Bobby.

At some point before falling asleep, I start kicking myself over two things:

1. Why didn't I soberly use this party to network and advance my career?

2. Where the hell is my other shoe? I loved those shoes! Damn it!

All in all, it was a strange and drunken night that fudged up my next day's audition. You try singing Andrew Lloyd Webber as vomit makes its way up your throat. My father just popped into my head to say that he can't even listen to that showtune crap without vomiting. Shut up, imaginary Dad!

Anyway, thank you for sticking with me through all eighty-seven chapters of my Idol Finale Party Experience. We had a time, didn't we?

Now I'm off to bed as it's ten am. Strangely, being up all night and sleeping all day has made my sleep troubles nonexistent. Crazy. When will I ever join the rest of humanity in nocturnal sleep patterns?

Pfft! I don't care. I'm tired.