Late Night Lis, ramblin

God I love Christopher Lee. Just heard his voice on the TV behind me and perked right up. What a lovely man. Gave him several nods in The Commune.

Okie-dokey, just a little reminder to take tomorrow and New Year's Day to set your intentions and give thanks for all you have! Cindy Baer and I are meeting for Chinese food, our notebooks firmly in hand to imagine our next year. Love it!


Sooooo...is it just me or are Facebook and Myspace the death of dating and romance? I mean, I'm dating several guys right now, and it just kills any hope or excitement or attraction I feel to have to see in the comments section that they have a date with a girl I know three days before ours, or that they sent flowers to someone else, or tell EVERY girl that they "miss their beautiful face"...

Modern life is not making me happy, and what's the point of dating these guys if they can't make me happy? That's what gives a grown man pleasure, right? Putting a genuine smile on my face? I don't know, the whole thing makes me feel tired and desireless tonight. Eff. If I'm not special, I'm not interested. I swear, I look at them wanting to kiss me, and I can SEE the microscopic STD germs. Nothing turns me off more than a ladies man. Done deal.

My Victorian one-woman guy is going to find me in 2008, and be thrilled to have me bring sunshine to his life.

Fine, whatever, I know, "Keep dating the other guys in the meantime Lis". It just seems so weird. I mean, they're all accomplished and good-looking and emotionally unavailable and busy with other women and statistically likely to be diseased... and hopefully not readers of this blog...

Godd I'm feisty tonight. I know, I know, great guys dating me, wah. It's just I'm a woman of emotion and devotion, and I'm tired of meaningless. LA is chock-full of mediocre and superficial salads. I want a steak dinner. I don't even mean marriage, just for god's sake, where's real? Where's not screwing more partners this week than I've screwed in a lifetime? Where's adoration when I'm not in front of them? I'm busy here saving the world, I don't have time for less than I want.

Fishbowl nod

If you're following the write-up that mysteriously spoke of me and Alec Baldwin, welcome! I'm Lis Fies. I bought more bandwidth for you. So poke around, stay awhile...

Update

Matheson is alive! Praise Jesus!

No actually, my earlier intel was just faulty. Apologies.


Book was great. Nice prose. Cool insights. Loved his grasp on emotions, and the stages of being alone. Loved the honesty of raging desire turning to blah abstinence. Been there! Totally ahead of its time. And Lost has cribbed from it, which makes sense given it heavily influenced Steven King.

Really interesting IDEAS, none of which made it into the movie except for one: that after years of solitude, Robert forgot how to be social with other humans. Brilliantly executed, and made all the better for the other human being an attractive woman. Geez, I was almost rooting for him to rape her. Or the dog. Or the mural.

All in all, the novella would make a great movie.

Cue Joker-esque laughter of Hollywood madness echoing through the labyrinth of Development Hell.

Why so sad, Writer?

Purrrrrrfection

Shimmied into my sexy red silk slip and robe from Victoria's Secret, pulled on my Ugg boots, sipping my two buck Chuck red wine from Trader Joe's and am curling up under my super soft Pottery Barn blanket with my I am Legend book from Barnes and Noble.


Sometimes consumerism can be blissful, even for a would-be Socialist.

If I finish IAL, will move on to one of my favorite gifts received this Christmas: Eat Pray Love or David Lynch's book on Creativity.

Meanwhile, praying the kitchen gnomes work their magic on my dirty dishes. Oh, did I tell you my latest discover? Using beautiful dishes used to make me feel good, but now I've found that buying paper plates and forks at the dollar store and throwing the dishes into the recycling bin when I'm done makes me feel like a pretty pretty princess.

Not doing dishes? Priceless.

So sayeth the UBER Amazon.

Mischief! Mischief! Mischief!

Am catching up on my movies this week, since I neglected viewing many this past year while making my own.

Here are my decidedly different opinions, your mileage may vary.

Die Hard - Liked Justin Long and almost nothing else. Felt like a creaky dinosaur with no stakes. Look at the difference between Bruce Willis falling several stories, being blown up, shot, hanging from crap twice and not being hurt, and how you care and feel the pain when Will Smith hurts his leg in I am Legend. But I did enjoy seeing the Avengers' Vision doll for a second onscreen. And Kevin Smith.

Transformers - Was entranced, then horrified by the racism (I-Ran? Really?), then confused by the tone changes and overwrought length. Who exactly was their audience? Besides the focus group leader's stereotypical vision of thirty-year--old midwestern army guys? 'Cuz if that was for kids, man there was innapropriate, disturbing war stuff in it. Poor John Rogers. I gotta buy him a beer and hear that story. And did I mention the Bay institutional racism and nationalism? America, fuck yeah!

Sweeney Todd - Sumptious grand guignol. Absolutely pitch perfect. What a joy! Gorgeous turns of phrases, as well. A lot of love went into this film, and it gleams in every frame. Worth gandering.

I am Legend - Didn't breathe the whole time. Moved me despite being a calculated paint by numbers screenplay.

Then I got home and read the difference between Matheson's short story and this movie version, and felt betrayed and tiny. Bought the book and will read it tonight and report back. Sounds like the movie is as faithful an adaptation as William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet was. What a shame. Richard Matheson was one of my favorite writers, and I can hardly believe out of three versions from the same source material, not one filmmaker has actually used the source. Probably a good thing he's dead, save him the heartache. Did you notice the thank you to guru Chris Vogler in the credits? Interesting.

Waitress - Cloying and hackneyed. I don't think critics would have been so nice to it if she hadn't died. Sorry, someone had to say it.

Once - Really? As someone who plays the piano and has done spontaneous duets while falling in love with a stranger, the movie felt unemotional and like a calculated two hour music video for the band. Ugh, and the production values! Put the camera on sticks, don't make me nauseous.

Because I Said So - Um, I really liked this one. Why did this get such a critical backlash? Because it was ghettoized as a chick flick? The last five minutes belonged in a different movie, but otherwise it was charming and engaging and had a witty script I would happily call my own. Nothing to be ashamed about here.


Worst previw: The Ruins. The preview alone brought the foul stench of that damned novel back to me. Yuck. And for the record, I think the movie and book of A Simple Plan were totally overrated too. Not one surprise, just a steady predictable march towards nihilism.

Best preview: The Dark Knight. Holy crap. Can it be summer now? I wonder what Frank Miller thinks.

Best dip ever!!!

According to Ms. Cindy Baer. :)

I don't like to cook, so when I do I pick high impact dishes. Here's my variation on

Artichoke Cheese Dip

1 cup sour cream
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup grated jack chees
1 cup grated parmesan (or even better: mix of 3 storebought, usually adds asiago and something else)
2 diced cloves of garlic
1 large can of artichokes, drained and diced

Combine above ingredients in a casserole dish sprayed with pam or alone in a pampered chef-type stoneware.


Heat for 30 minutes at 350. Eat with sliced sourdough bread or crackers.

Truly the devil's cheese, and how I maintain my womanly curves. Yuuuuuuuummy eviiiiil.

So proud to have once liked this video...

Oh boy.

Tombstone

Realized as I was boarding the plane on Saturday that for the first time in my life, it's okay with me if I die.

Only took me 34 years to accomplish my artistic goals, but they're real and they're out there now as of Friday night. An award-winning body of work.

If I get struck down tomorrrow, they will rise more powerful than you can ever imagine.

*grin*

The dishes are dooooone...

Wrapped up the fine cut today with Todd. Showing it to Charles (Pistoleras artist) tonight, then will show to a few other people for feedback. Make a few more small adjustments, let Todd work his under the hood magic, lock picture, give to sound designer and sweetener for two months et voila! A rockin, tight, feature film debut.

Never a more perfect trailer?

The Iron Man trailer is... sublime.

Ahhhhhhhh. 34 years of giving my soul to Marvel, and it's been rewarded with compound interest. Sighhhhhhhhhhhh.

Robert Downey Jr. hardly had a bigger fan on the planet than Mom, and I was right there with her. He can do no wrong, and is doing all kinds of right in this trailer.

Best of all, I'm with my editor Todd while finish The Commune's fine cut, watching Iron Man on his 20k HD editing system.

Geeeeeekogasm.

(You should see his walls...Todd's home has some great comic art, and he's constantly pulling up Ebay to see what's available. Want an original X-Men #13 page for 20k? A pittance, really.)


Funnily enough, never a true shell-head. I always thought the Avengers geeks leaned towards Cap or Hawkeye, depending on their preference for sardonic or patriotic displays. And of course, I'm the ultimate geek...I was there for Wanda. Learned how to read on those 1970s Byrne and Perez Avengers so I could watch her defend the earth beside those bad boys, Stark included.

But I know Tony Stark when I see him, and that, my friends, is Mr. Tony Stark.

Thank Odin Cruise lost the rights.


May 1st. Midnght.

Avengers Assemble.

More Commune PR!

Campus Circle Magazine interview - The Commune!!!

Okay, so it's not accurate reporting, but it's available now at college campuses across the United States...our target audience, baby!!!! Look for Perez on the cover in pink.

CHAUNTAL LEWIS

Here Comes "Lindsay Fully Loaded"
8 | Campus Circle [DECEMBER 5 - DECEMBER 11 '07]

THINK BACK TO THE FIRST summer you ever spent away from home. For me, the thought evokes memories of slumber parties in log cabins. Now imagine that first summer away from home was on a bloodthirsty, cult-like commune in the middle of nowhere, and your estranged father was offering you up to the gods as a sacrifice.

Chauntal Lewis has been living the dream – er, nightmare – on the set of
her new movie, The Commune, for the past two months. In the film, Lewis notes, her character "kinda [goes] crazy." But who wouldn't? Lewis portrays a girl whose parents divorced when she was very young, and who has just reunited with her estranged father for the summer. Their reunion is bittersweet and odd; she discovers he is an active leader of his commune.

"Communes then were kind of cult-like," Lewis informs me. The most horrifying part is that it's based on a true story of a girl at an actual commune, acting as a real-life sacrificial lamb. Yet this psycho-thriller offers more than one would assume, given its bone-chilling premise; the film also includes a romantic storyline. "But of course, there is a wonderful love scene," Lewis tells, infusing light into an otherwise bleak-sounding filmic landscape. Though the world of entertainment is nothing new for her, The Commune represents her first leading role. Prior to this movie, her bigscale debut was on the Internet in a spoof for YouTube called "Lindsay Fully Loaded."
"I'm told constantly that I look like her. There may be a slight resemblance, but I hear it like every day? It's kinda weird," Lewis says.

The video is a spoof of the adventures of Lindsay Lohan, her DUIs and diva-like behavior. It's very clever and pokes fun not only at Lindsay, but also her cohorts Britney, Paris and Nicole. As we spoke, Lewis was on her way to start filming another YouTube spoof, this time she's playing Britney Spears. However, Lewis maintains that the video is not making fun of Britney, but rather paying homage to the "Britney that we miss." Similarly, she claims she"loves Lindsay" and thinks she's a very talented actress, but hopes she gets help.

Lewis diagnoses the problem with these young Hollywood starlets as one
of fundamental instability. "I feel like they don't really have a solid foundation as far as their families go," she points out. "For me, I just stay away [from bars and clubs] and do what I love doing every chance I get."
But staying away from cameras must be difficult, given the public demand for any and all information about celebrities. When I ask Lewis if she thinks young Hollywood actresses read celebrity blogs, she replies: "I think so ... I do. However, I think they need to avoid them ... a lot of [blogs] are just huge exagerations of the truth –but I totally [read them]. Maybe it's our generation."

She says that she admires Reese Witherspoon and Charlize Theron, and confesses that it's hard to find trustworthy people in Hollywood. "I've got my sister and a few friends from high school – that's all I really hang out with," she admits. "It's hard to find loyalty; I just try to find a balance."

However, if her professional career is any indication, Lewis seems to be
succeeding at striking a balance among all the things she wants to do. In
addition to her new movie and her YouTube spoofs, she's currently working on her debut album, which is "urban-type pop; I've danced my entire life so good beats are an important element in my music," and looking for independent projects she can sink her teeth into.
"Acting and performing are my passion, so I just stay focused," she says.
"If there's no work, I'll make work."

However, she wants to immerse herself in all aspects of the creative process. "There are lots of short films that I'm writing and I want to produce. This is the only thing that I've always known I love to do, and I'm not stopping."

For more information, visit
www.chauntal.com

Commenting problemo?

Are very many of you still trying to post and not being allowed to by the big bad Blogger site? I know Mark was having problems (still?) and now Ryan.

Sigh.

Well, I probably don't have as much traffic now during the holidays so here....

lisfie* at the g male

If you don't know what the asterisk stands for or if gmail is com or net, then I guess you can't write me. So there.

I'm going to do a comment back as a post, since this man coined "racktacular" for THAT dress (yesssss, people stared at my breasts throughout the auction, no they did not sell, no I was not comfortable with the attention. Though karaoking aftewards was a different matter.).

Lovable handsome Ryan has written me a fabulous email I'm still giggling over, and hopefully he'll enjoy seeing a few of his words here when he checks in again during Jury Duty.

"Oh yeah... I was going to comment on your blog that any guy who has read Pistoleras would think twice about getting in your face... and second... any guy who hasn't ready your screenplay after dating you for two months deserves to be dumped. Good call, sister."

You actually really stumped me. I could have sworn I was really careful about writing about this guy, and that the elements above weren't discernible. I checked back over my blog, and sure enough, infos not there. Ryan, are you psychic? Is this our sensitive emotional Cancerian connection working?

(What, gentle readers? Didn't think I was a Cancer? Oh yes, verily I live for taking care of family and loved ones and cooked meals at home with candles and movies, balls to bones. I just swear like Milch while I parsel (parcel? Parse? Parsnip? It's 4 am people!) out the cuddles and hand-holding and loves and Care Bear rainbows. I'm a toostie roll pop with a crunchy outside of Evil Dead and Tarantino, and a mushy hug-me-and-pet-my-hair-and-say-pretty-things-to-me inside.)

You're correct at all your clever reading between the lines, dagnabit. But seriously gee willickers, what did it take you to read Pistoleras, four days of knowing me? Brian, too. Two months is as far as I go, especially when several jobs being my right hand guy are attached to it...gotta prove yourself a match to watch my back on and off set. Hullo read flag.

Thanks for the email cutie, Sunday stands; I'll add more butter. Give 'em hell, Judge Dredd, I'll hope for the worst.

2007

The movies I feel pain at not making:




The movies that brought me pleasure:

Muscles & Mussels

Next Sunday.
3pm.
My house.

Be there.


Ingredients:
Mussels (1 lb per person, about $3 a pound)
3/4 butter stick
1 cup pre-sliced onion, red or white
1 clove garlic crushed
handfull of fresh parsely
3/4 bottle of white wine

Discard any open mussels. Pull off beards. Rinse in lukewarm water - NOT COLD!

Brown onions in a large pot (preferably with a clear lid so you can keep on eye on things later). Throw in wine. Put lid on. Steam for 5 minutes until they open. Discard any that didn't open (eating them can make you sick).

Serve with sliced french bread that you dip in the broth. Yum!


If you're one of those damned vegetarians, I'll make a gourmet cheese pasta, too. Just give me warning you're coming.

Bunny Boiler

So I jettisoned someone this week whom I'd been dating for 2 1/2 months, who suddenly turned all colors of crazy and unkind.

It was a lot easier to do because over the course of our dating I:

1. Never showed him where I lived.
2. Kept dating other men instead of jumping into an instant relationship with him.

Just a little scoop from one who's been there. It takes 2-3 months for either sex's real personality to show up. It's best not to get attached before you really meet them.

And now I have one less degree to be frightened of him, because I don't have to be watching for him to show up at my place with flowers. Phew!

By the way, the perfect gift for anyone you love this season is Gavin De Becker's "The Gift of Fear". Required reading.

Scribosphere

How much do I love this screenwriting webiverse of ours? So cozy.

Just got to make a "Fight Club" reference on Sundance-award-winner Eric Escobar's site.

And I agree; love making movies with my friends. Nothing better.

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssssssssssss

The Dark Knight trailer and all the joker images look worth waiting twenty years for.

I'm a happy girl.

Shuuuuuuuuut uuuuuuuup alreadyyyyyyyy

Okay, come on. How many more times do I have to hear that damn movie commercial before I throw my red pump through the tv screen?

A man sincerely asks "What do women want?"
And a breathless bimbo giggles "We have no idea!"

Way to backstab the entire human race, sister. (Er, or, one of the 13 male screenwriters on the film)

Women know exactly what they want. Always have. Men just don't like the answer.

Every woman wants you to be in love with her and for your behavior to reflect that she's special and you want her alone out of all the women in the world.

Effing DUHHHHHHH.


It's a biological imperative. True blue monogamy/being in love, equals survival of the species. That is our want. It is hardwired into our brains to seek a mate who will provide for us alone, forsaking other women, making and providing offspring with us. Just as it is in men's programming to eff every woman they see and treat none of them special so they can remain "free".

It's not our fault we're in biological conflict with each other.

Stop acting dumb like we don't all know what we want, just because neither side wants to concede at all to create happiness. Happiness is earned by transcending your monkey roots, not giving into them whole hog.


"Oh, women are so complicated, can't make them happy, they're so flighty and flaky they don't know what they want, wah wah wah...."

Stop shoving that BULLSHIT down our culture. You (screenwriters and Mr. Freud) don't like the ANSWER because it means compromise and work.

Deal with it.

Friday thought

"It's a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it." - Somerset Maugham

Communal news

The first official trailer is up on our amazing editor Todd Miro's website...check it out! Will be on Youtube today or tomorrow, so wait to link to it/pass it on/add it to Myspace til then.

UPDATE: here's youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LOlI0-ZkDk

Come by our shindig tonight...we have two hundred people coming! It's going to be like a wedding...with Cirque de Soleil performers! Only my dress costs more and is racktacular. :) Actually, come to think of it, this really is my wedding reception! Whoo-hoo! Thank god I'm an artist instead of a regular girl.

An even better reason to come tomorrow than staring at my boobs is we're premiering three scenes from the film...and they're spectacular! Man, I could pinch myself, The Commune is turning out so well. You don't even know the half of it.

Worrying about gifts for your Hims?

Okay, it's time for another round of Evolutionary Psychology wisdom, brought to you by our monkey ancestors.

If you are a woman who is casually dating (and it better be several men and not one!) or has just made a commitment to one man, put the credit cards and the pen down.

You heard me. I know you, sister. I know the deepest, dankest secrets in your head. I know you're racking your brain thinking about what you can GIVE to him or SAY to him that will fill his life with beauty and ease his worries. Because biologically, that is woman's mission.

The problem is...he ain't your guy. So don't treat him like he is. You're doing a disservice to him. You're emasculating him, taking away HIS mission...to hunt and provide.

You're also devaluing yourself into a cheap, easy to obtain item. I know, not that you care about that, because it's all about pleasing HIM, you empathetic, caring, put-other-people-first lady.

Knock it off.

No gifts. Not this year.

Maybe have something generic on hand that costs under five dollars in case he gives you something SPECTACULAR and specific to you. That's it. And no special cards or emails. And don't sign it "Love", or put more than half a sentence.

Feel like a bitch? Good! How many times have you given too much and poured out your soul, then been shocked when he chose a woman who treats him like dirt over you? Exactly. He WANTS to hunt and earn. He doesn't value anything easy. He doesn't value you giving to him.

If you really truly are giving for the right reasons, then give him what he WANTS, not what YOU think he NEEDS* because giving makes you feel good.

Seriously. This IS your holiday gift to him. Be a cool woman in control of your biology. Let him be a man.**


* I live by this so seriously, I gave Dave my high-end cologne samples last night. Because I don't want them on hand, tempting me to give one of my guys a gift that could only be read as a "fixer". It's a win-win. I didn't emasculate any guys I could care about someday, and my friend smells delicous...I get to smell him all tomorrow night at the auction!

** This isn't game-playing. Learning to have boundaries and be self-actualized to improve the lives of everyone around you is gods' work. Being selfish is living by your primate chemical drives, and making the same mistakes over and over because it "feels right". Nothing is more detrimental to your life's happiness than living by your monkey feelings.

Anyone want to go?

I need a vacation!

CruiseDeals.com has slashed the price of a Mexico cruise from Los Angeles to $199 per person. You must book by Dec. 17.

This special includes:
- 4 nights on the Carnival Paradise
- Roundtrip cruise from L.A. to Catalina Island and Ensenada
- Departures on Jan. 28, Feb. 4 or Feb. 25
- Upgrade to a 4A cabin (side-by-side beds, not bunk beds)

The Carnival Paradise includes a full-service spa, fitness center, and 7 restaurants.

Love is in the air

Have you noticed?

I was standing in line at Marshall's last night clutching the last of my Christmas shopping, watching all the love float around. Dads with their kids, friends bumping into each other, couples looking adoringly at each other. It's beautiful. Look for it. You'll see it. Everyone's so soft and open right now. Well, the healthy everyones. But they're in the majority, because it's all I see. And I live in LA.

There are many stories from the set I've withheld to protect the guilty, or because I haven't gotten around to it. Here's one.

We shot the majority of the film on a mini Commune/spiritual retreat center with an Egyptian theme. Which led to many misunderstandings, freakouts, and giggles from my early 20s male crew. Six of whom had to sleep in the attic of the Nesu house, the main production quarters (it was pretty awesome. Like college.).

So each room had an Egyptian theme or Goddess governing over the room. Against my judgement, I ended up with my own, which truthfully probably saved the production. And around the second night, my producer and script supervisor, the only other women, looked around my room and freaked out when they realized it was the teammate/love/soulmate room. I was surrounded by powerful, awesome couple images. If you know your feng shui like they did, they were convinced I wasn't getting out of fall without a boyfriend. They were concerned I was going to magnetize one onset.

That was the beginning of the beginning...realizing this powerful couple manifestation is just around the corner. Almost in my lap. Yea! Can't wait to be smiling and getting my hair stroked while standing in line at Marshall's.

Ha ha ha ha

Okay, someone found Kidsisland by googling "god damn miss you a bad mother fucker".

Yes. I am number one. Out of 73,500.

Effing rad.

Also of high amusant is the number of people googling Atonement's wonderful "Kiss you sweet wet c*nt" loveletter. Click my link to get it right. It's high brow literature, people. Deserves to be correctly quoted to your woman.

Man

I've been doing some online dating sites, and man it's frustrating...I'm talking with these great guys, but me not wanting to have kids is often a dealbreaker! Urgh! Yet another reason to mourn Captain Awesome.

I just can't honestly say I want to have kids in the the next five years. I want to fall in love and spend time with my guy and make movies. THAT'S my priority. Bringing kids into the mix, if you look at the statistics, kills the satisfaction in the marriage until they leave for college. And my interest is in the relationship being happy, fun, fulfilling, uplifting for both of us, making us both better people...and maybe after years of us loving each other and having a freaking blast, we can talk about the possibility of totally screwing it up by bringing another being into the mix.

See, the problem with all the marriage proposals I've gotten is the guys wanted to immediately inseminate me and stick me behind a white picket fence in the suburbs. But I'm a wild thing! I want to create and run free with my guy! I still want monogamy and love and passion, but I'm an artist. I would die in the suburbs and the PTA.

Blarg! There has to be another guy out there I have great chemistry with who wants to travel the world and save it, and make movies with me along the way. Someone who wants a loving loyal feisty sensual firecracker. Yeah. He's there. I can feel it. Pitt/Jolie without the munchkins.

Okay, keep an eye out for him. Here's what I'm manifesting:

To share my life with a partner. I want to meet that person I'll love for a lifetime. I'm looking to travel, work, play, and stay in bed for years with my guy.

What I'm looking for?

Top three? Social, happy, sweet.

Monogamous. Has chemistry with me. He's actively pursuing some avocation he loves - even if not making money at it yet. Supportive. We spur each other on in our respective creative ventures. Kind. Proximity, at least part of the year. Fun and quick to laugh. Genuine. Not hung up on materialism, popularity, surface. Strong and secure. Turned on by a dame with brains. Feminist. A foodie. Practices the golden rule. Romantic and gentle in bed. Always kissing me, and likes to hold hands. Wants to leave the world a better place. Not sure he wants kids. Loves to travel. Wants to be inspired to be a better man. Cherishes me. Is open and authentic with me. Believes in himself and gets pleasure from being a good man.

Dealbreakers? Smoker. Drugs. Alcoholism. In debt and not working on it. Doesn't want me as much as I want him. Discourtesy. Doesn't get along with my friends. Bad sex, or not enough good sex. Predictability.

If you're in LA...Come meet me!

Or, you know, hang out if we already know each other. :) I'm wearing THAT dress. The "racktacular" one, as Ryan blurbed.

Lots of exciting items have been added to our silent auction list including a Dreamworks package, extensions by a hairstylist to the stars, energy healing sessions, framed movie posters, and more! Hope to see you there!

You’re invited to a very unique holiday event!



A Commune Festivus
Our independent film is in the can!

Come help us raise a toast and raise our finishing funds!

Wednesday
December 12th
7-10 pm

At absolution: 8535 Santa Monica Blvd at La Cienega

RSVPs appreciated: info@thecommunemovie.com or 303-859-0106
Entertainment Includes:

Aerial Performance by:

TROUPE - Theatrical Circus EntertainmentFeaturing members of Cirque Du Soleil and absolution Aerial Instructors TROUPE will inspire awe as they fly gracefully through the air. The more you see the less you’ll believe. http://www.absolutionla.com/html/aerialarts.html
www.troupesite.com

Acoustic Performances by:

Velvet Ratio
Andrew Scott’s playing is both agile and heartfelt. Inspired by David Bowie, Jeff Beck, Jeff Tweedy…and Kraftwerk. His music is an interesting mix of genres and styles that delights.
www.myspace.com/velvetratio

Jenn Oberle
Jenn Oberle is breaking into the L.A. music scene with over 15 years of experience performing, writing and recording from the east coast. The Brooklyn-born bassist and vocalist is known for her music’s honesty and spirit and her impressive blend of musical styles.
www.jenniferoberle.com
www.myspace.com/jennoberle

Vlad
This multiple Grammy-nominated artist’s music can be heard all over the world and in the upcoming Antoine Fuqua Southern period film. Vlad started as a rock star at 18 in his native Ukraine touring with Iron Maiden. He later became an internationally acclaimed new age and jazz guitarist working with greats like Tony Bennett. His next album of classic slide guitar blues is due out in 2008.
www.vladosphere.com
www.myspace.com/vladosphere


Silent auction items include:

We are honored to feature paintings by
Annie Wharton
$5,000 values
In important private collections all over the world, Annie’s work has been featured in the New York Times, Art in America, Glamour among others. In addition to a wide array of international art fairs, gallery and alternative spaces throughout the US, Israel, Japan and Europe, she's shown her work in group shows at museums such as the Museum of Contemporary Art in Washington, DC, the Ringling Museum of Sarasota, and in Miami at the Lowe Museum the Bass Museum, and the Museum of Contemporary Art and in solo museum exhibits at the Kirishima Open Air Museum in Kirishima, Japan and The Wolfsonian-FIU Museum.
www.anniewharton.com

Jam Session with Guitar Legend Danny B. Harvey
Priceless
Playing since before he could walk, Danny is a legend among musicians. He’s toured with everyone from Brian Setzer to Motorhead and currently plays in diverse bands such as The Head Cat (with Motorhead’s Lemmy) The Lonesome Spurs with Lynda Kay, known as the White Stripes of country, and with French chanteuse Penelope Fortier currently viewable in her MasterCard “My Favorite Things” commercial. Danny will hang out for a one-hour jam session. Sure to be a fun time and a unique experience for any guitar enthusiast.
www.myspace.com/dannybharvey

Interior Design Consultation by Inspired Living
$333 value
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And more!

So...tense much?

Just realized I haven't had a vacation since running around a music festival in the desert with Heidi last April. Didn't have a birthday party, either. What a strange year.

I know, a lot of people feel that the life of a writer is a full-time vacation. This coming from the people who take prescriptions to NOT feel their feelings and be in their heads all day long and think about how effed up life is and why we do what we do.

Trust me, being a writer may not be full-time work in the coal-mining sense, but it is full-time anxiety. The hair-greying kind.

Last night I actually had a dream that I visited a sex shop and asked how much to have an expert go down on me. And I was stoked it was only a dollar a minute and that the lady said he was clean, so I said sure! Twenty minutes! And had the nice S & M counter lady lead me back to this creepy weird dentist type room in black leather. It did look sterile. Then I realized I had five dollars in the bank account.* So I had to sneak out, and accidentally stole some sex toy that I guess I'd slipped in my pocket. So I returned home to my house, which was also...above a sex shop.

...

?

Perhaps I need to find some free way to show a little love and appreciation to myself. Maybe a spa night. Or let that gorgeous 20-year-old at Blockbuster who worships me take me to a movie. I don't know. Something's gotta give.


*True. That's why I'm selling my pearls and baby grand piano and PD150 and Super 8 Bolex, and probably my Avengers John Byrne comic art (!). The one I cried about three years in a row at Comic-con, then finally broke down and bought last June. Contact me if you want it. It should go to a good smokefree home.

Meh

"Friday, Deal's all new. We're bringing you "summer" in December...and you know what that means! Yeah! Deal or No Deal models...in bikinis! And there's a game that goes all the way down to the final case! Plus, bikinis! Next all new Deal or No Deal, Friday 8/7 central on NBC!"

Study follow up

More results from the Great Dress Experiment:

1. Last Saturday from a woman, another "beautiful" and a "you look like Annette Bening. I can't believe you've never heard that before." She was so adament, I'm tempted to add Miss B to the Cylon #11 list. Though usually I wait to hear a comparison at least 4 times...In truth, I know I don't look anything like the queen of Hollywood. But it was totally the dress and perfume that earned the compliment, and I'll take it since AB should have been Catwoman, but dropped out of Returns because she freaking married Warren Beatty and was pregnant with the player's child. Any woman that powerful and insouciant, go right ahead and tell me everyday I'm like her...Love it. A true Catwoman.

2. Yesterday, shit you not, nanny in an elevator: "Bonita, so beautiful, when is the baby due?"

...!

Okay, I'm going to chalk that up to my blisfully happy glow, since I'm down yet another half size.

Sadly, the remark caused Knocked Up to flash before my eyes...


Yeaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh....sooooooo.....yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

The collective scream heard round the blogiverse.

Wow. Ladies, suicide or gouging your eyes out is always an option. Can't vote that away. Also, tossing yourself out a five story window could do the trick.

(Yes, I'm one of the MILLIONS of women* who think Apatow's "comedy" was more frightening and misogynistic than the Saw and Hostel franchises combined... I'd eff Screech's dildo on Pay Per View before I'll sit through another Apatow film starring Seth Rogen or any other ugly obnoxious unfunny mean unaccomplished dumb dude I'm supposed to be convinced can give shiksa goddess Katherine Heigl multiple orgasms (in the missionary position with chunky sweaty Seth?) and make her feel bad about her supermodel body while he eats pizza and is an unappreciative ahole. He's the Woody Allen 2000 model; instead of making Annie Hall laugh/happy, he makes jokes about her to his loser stoner friends and she grimaces and bears it cuz it's better than being alone. Efff you, Hollywood.)

3. Lady worker stepping off the elevator today all smiley, "Hi! Oh my, look at you! Excuse me, ma'am."

In general, the men are still aproaching with small talk more, holding doors, radiating respect, generously offering unsolicited help with much vigor and apologizing if their showing off/providing doesn't create results. Actually, they're adorable. Is there anyone more lovable than a man who drops everything to provide happiness for a woman?

Shawna, you gotta get in on this experiment. Let's go shopping!

EDITOR'S NOTE: What a poorly written / spelled post. Sigh. Sometimes I don't have the strength to open a new window for websters.com AGAIN.

* And Eric.

Somehow I missed it

For Evel Knievel, the dreamers of the 70s who watched him fly, the lung illness sufferers, the Hollywood sellouts Thom wrote this about (himself included), and the projectors who think it's about an unappreciative boy who's lost a good woman forever (really, aren't ALL songs about that? Show appreciation, guys, before she's gone forever...Women respond to being ignored/neglected by finding someone else):


The best thing you ever had has gone away

Jim Carrey it

Having money issues? Hollywood is filled with this low energy, blah, recession depression. Lots of people struggling to make ends meet, worrying, anxious...a real creativity killer.

So here's a free manifester tool to focus on the positive again!

Prosperity Check

You can make it for any amount, and even put what it's for.

Hail to the Queen, baby

Ahhhh! Well, here's one of the coolest, sweetest things anyone could say about me. And coming from the Scibosphere's amazing Shawna Benson, one ending to a writer's strike away from being a Bone Fide Big Hollywood Deal! Seriously, I can't talk about the deal, but she's hot people! Keep reading her so you can say you knew her when, in just a few short months...

Attention lurkers

"There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread." -Mother Teresa

So stop being stingy! Yeesh.

Creative Screenwriting Expo - awards and afterparty

The Awards Ceremony

Ryan Harris and Brian Lubocki

Me and Heidi Hornbacher

Ryan and Shawna Benson

It's time

It's been too long my friend, been too long.







To my female readers, and 10% of the males:

You're welcome.

Bad medicine

My favorite part of rehashing the past in that Throw Up post is that now I get to go through all the fun rejection emotions AGAIN.

Seriously, god? I mean, WTF? How is this doing anyone on the planet any good, making me a non-functioning mess? I'm supposed to be the super hero, and I'm crying because no one loves me? Wonder Woman doesn't cry about that. Or Catwoman.

Scarlet Witch does, but she's a pussy. And the most powerful being in the Marvel Universe, so she just waves her arm and kills the men who reject her love.

*Grin* Feeling better.

Replaced rejection with good-old-fashioned guilt for momentarily wishing revenge and regret and loneliness on a loved one. I'm comfortable in guilt. Jewish genetics and Catholic gradeschool trained me well.

Maybe I can get dressed now.

For the love of Benji

Cover your mouth when you cough in public, people.

The baby Jesus cries everytime you don't.

Throw up

Pretty much none of you should read this. Especially anyone related to me. Nothing about this post is good or right or should be public.


I've had this memory weighing on my mind for weeks now, and I just feel like I have to GET IT OUT. No clue why. Quite sure it's too personal to talk about and makes me way too vulnerable and may hurt other people in my life. But I'm ruminating on it, and I've got to stop the cycle before I go mad.

I had this Before Sunrise experience months ago, and it was the impetus for this huge growth journey I've been on; studying men and dating, stepping out of my comfort range, admitting that keeping my dating experience low until I meet my man is a failing strategy.

In many ways, it caused The Commune to happen. If I hadn't been so out of my mind with pain and failure at effing up a good thing because I didn't have the right dating technology, I wouldn't have pushed myself into making the movie NOW, and I wouldn't have had the incredibly loving relationship between the two leads right, or a break-up scene I lifted word for word that had all the women and some of the men on the set crying.

Ha. Funny enough, I wouldn't have had The Elevator Scene, which my crew found so far-fetched.

So...before I get to the memory, let me just say publicly, anonymously, as if I was burning a letter in the fire:

Thank you. Thank you for seeing me. I needed someone brave and strong to see me, and to claim me, and to wrap me in his arms with enough stength that I believed everything would be okay. I appreciate all you did for me, the way you treated me like your queen; from pulling out my chair, to dressing up for me in your sharp shoes and natty clothes, to thinking about what would please me, to looking into my eyes all night with your beautiful wise sparkly soul, to listening to me on the edge of your seat for four hours at that French restaurant with singular focus (and two hours at the rooftop bar before!), to sharing your dreams and purpose with me and envisioning a better world because of your impact.

You were my hero from the moment I stepped into that elevator. I don't think my eyes could have left your calmness and confidence and respect if they'd tried. You wouldn't have allowed me to run away from us.

I needed to believe in love again and to be rescued from my numbness and pain; you were strong enough to save me from myself. I respect your depth of character, who you are in this world, your authenticity, opinions, choices. The possibility of love you showed me...I will strive for and have some day every day with my husband. I honor the sacred, the sublime, the delightful space that the two of us created in synergy, and that you were generous enough to name outloud with your beautiful words. And I will trust that men can be overflowing with tenderness and love and emotion and kindness and lips that never leave my body all night if I can just be brave enough to receive them and let them be men.

I apologize for my uncommunicated expectations and hopes and dreams, and accept you for who you are and the time we had together.

Thank you for making me a better woman. Goodbye my love. You've changed my life and made me happy. You mattered.


BACKSTORY

Leaving the French restaurant, giddy from your intellect and the smell of you and the way you look at me and your towering heighth that makes me feel so feminine and protected. The uncanny resemblence to Mr. Tumnus and the unshakeable knowledge that mom has sent you to me. I wonder how much younger you are. Probably thirty? We never got to the usual chit chat; our conversation so much deeper. Raw.

Walking down the street to your car, feeling you beside me wanting to hold my hand, uncharacteristically unsure. At last you reach out and brush my fingers, then confidently hold my hand in yours. I feel your energy shoot up my arm, and I feel safe with you. I'd let you lead me anywhere. But you steer me to the passenger door of your adorable twenty-five-year-old environmentally friendly Honda, take my face gently in yours and give me the longest, lightest, best kiss of my life like we have all the time in the world. Wrap me in your arms and whisper-moan against my lips with such sincerity and hope and need the concrete drops out from under me..."Come home with me."

Yes.

And you took me home, and welcomed me into your artistic kingdom. Don't know how we got there or how you drove, your lips and eyes on mine like a magnet, open-mouthed and hungry with just a teasing hint of tongue, my legs pretzled around yours, already writhing for you. The gear shift a constant annoyance. My hand on your Stag King belt buckle (another Fishie from Mom). It's alright. It's safe to let you love me.

Exhausted, tangled in your manly plaid sheets, the full moon beating down on us through the open window. Dawn encroaching on our time together. I've dozed off somehow at some point, don't know when you stopped kissing my body. Never had a man never stop pleasing me, but you came ferociously then encirlced me again with your hands and your lips within seconds, my pleasure seamless until you join me again, collapsing into me, resting momentarily until your amazing fingers find me again, my screams and sobs against your chest muffled, uncontrollable. Your supreme pleasure in pleasuring me the biggest gift to my wounded psyche, infusing me with confidence long dormant.

The Memory

Somehow I've slept soundly, fearlessly with you, this stranger/soulmate. I'm laying on my default left side, my arms curved slighlty above my head as they do when I'm happy.

But there you are, movie-star-handsome head resting on my arm like a pillow, soul patch grazing the delicate inside skin. Peaceful. Trusting. Vulnerable. Present. You've stirred, embarrassed you relaxed enough to drool on me. Unseen, I watch you, my heart fluttering with the wings of thousand birds, a tear trapped in the corner of my eye. You're trying to clean my arm without waking me, touching me tenderly with the same respect and awe and worshipful long strokes used to clean your cum from my stomach and breasts an hour earlier.

Your kind, endless eyes meet mine and I smile into them: It's okay my love. Lay in my arms a while longer and let go. You are safe.

R eturn to the Planet of the Confused

Well, f*cknuts. So my whole hypothesis in the post below is wrong. Wrong wrong.

I looked like ass today. Sweat pants, ratty ponytail, ugg boots. Haven't looked this lousy since the shoot. And two men in the supermarket were still as attentive and smiley, all full of manly providing as when I was in a dress. Maybe it's the perfume?

Rats. How am I supposed to effect change and make the people around me happy if I can't figure out what the hell is producing the result?

And it's not that I'm happier...I mean, I am. But I wasn't today. Today I'm tired and overwhelmed. I feel this emotional tightness in my chest that's just ugh.

What would make me really happy would be to lay my head in a man's lap and have him pet my hair while we watched something with big vistas. Lean, or Minghella. Or...I'm in the mood for Star Wars. Sigh. That would feel like bliss.

I enjoy being a girl

Remember my "Just to Make Them Happy" post? Well, my Great Dress Experiment of November 2007 has been a rousing success.

Didn't wear a pair of pants all month and never went anywhere without perfume. I'm going to stick with it. Though, still 3/4 of the time my hair was in a messy bun and I had cute flat shoes and no makeup on...give me a break, gotta ease into this "lady" thing slowly...don't want my system to go into shock. Frankly, it already feels like a cellular shift.

The results were shocking.

Though I've been called "cute" all my life, "gorgeous" was reserved for the formal wear nights or shoot days with professional makeup and hair.

I've never been a "beautiful" woman. And I say that with authority because rarely had I been called that. I think the best it got was when Moriarty at Aint it Cool.com called me "Spectacularly Cute". That was the highlight of my physical compliments (I'm ignoring references to body parts themselves, clearly, because overhearing "Yowza look at that ass" isn't something that makes my chest warm with pleasure).



But all that changed in November, the month of dresses. I was referred to as beautiful, often by total strangers, an average of five times a week.

Come on. That's shocking.

Even more shocking? The preferential treatment I received. Men stumbling to open doors for me. Excusing themselves when they bumped into me. Double-taking in a non-salacious way. Unsolicited offers of help. A higher caliber of men asking me out. Salesladies giving me things for free. Strangers smiling at me and catching my eye even more than normal. Shocking. Absolutely shocking.

I can't believe I could have this positive of an effect on the world around me just by throwing on a silly dress. I mean, it's technically easier to wear than jeans, there's less to wash, and there's no bothersome thinking about matching. It's the simplest thing in the world, and it's so much more beautiful and chic.

So there you have it. A butterfly flaps its wings and causes a tsunami.

Oh, and I've become obsessed with perfume. Julie, the lovely Nordstrom specialist, sent me a two-page handwritten note at home because she said she's never had so much fun with a client, never had someone ask to be taught to be a connoisseur, and that she'd NEVER had someone walk into the LA store and say "I don't need what's popular, I need what's beautiful."

No more worrying about materialism or narcissism. I don't have to prove I'm a good woman by ignoring my outsides and hoping people will see my hard-earned, glowy soul. Eff that. I'm going to pamper myself and be a queen full time.

Can't wait to see what happens when I master heels, makeup and hair every day. I might just stumble on George Clooney. I'll keep you posted.

Premeditated

All I want to do is go into my room, light a candle, put on some music and lotion, curl up with Jay to relax a little and fall asleep. Sublime.

But can I? No. Because my asshole neighbor is chainsmoking again, , filling my bedroom and hallway, relegating me to the tiny part of my living room where I don't smell the noxious cancer particles.

AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
GGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCC
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Sooooooo angry. It's so unfair. I don't want to die of cancer, I don't want to have this headache, I don't want to be paying $2500 a month to live in a place where I'm trapped all day long with your SECOND HAND SMOKE, YOU SELFISH FUCKING DESERVE TO DIE ENTITLED ASSHOLEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Where is my hammer, I am coming down there!!!!




I really think with the right lawyer, I'll get manslaughter and 8 to 10. Large Marge the Warden may even let me keep blogging if I get good at giving head.

God, if I'm getting 8 to 10, I might as well make it 15 and kill that fucking newborn next door, too. All women love babies my ass.

30 Rock

You should all be watching it. Seriously funny stuff.

And lucky you, here's this week's full-length episode for free! Enjoy the glorious genius that is Cougars.

Jump the Shark transcribed some of the best lines, though really by that standard you should just watch the whole show. Here's a few, and more in my Comments section.

Jenna: (seeing the young, hot Jamie) Ooh, who ordered the veal?

Liz: Give it up Jenna; you're talking to an ultrasound. Jamie: Now I'm getting attitude from the sexy librarian over there. Liz: Sexy? You're sexy. Shut up!

Jenna to Liz: We're cougars: Hot older ladies that pounce on their younger prey. There was a whole article on it in Vanity Fair— the one with the crisis in Africa on the cover. God, it makes me so sad that more people don't know about cougars.

Liz: Wow, we just went from a senior dating a freshman to Mary Kay Laturno and Billy Palau. Jamie: Are those friends of yours? Liz: (as Jack shows up) Oh when will death come.

Beauty secrets

Here's what I'm glowing from, so the ladies know what to ask for and the blokes know what to buy. Seriously, I feeeeeeel soooooo gooooooooooooooooood...

Seacret
The Manicure set is spectacular. But even more startling? I've used the facial mud bar, eye cream, and face serum for a week...and my hand to Thor, my skin wasn't this amazing when I was twenty. And I'm allergic to everything, so consider it safe for sensitive skin. Don't buy it at the mall; you'll get ripped off. Order online.

Perfume by Thierry Mugler

Holy moly. Sorry kids, you haven't lived until you've made love with this perfume on you or the woman you're in. Nothing on earth smells like it. This is the reknowned French parfumer chosen to do the movie tie-in for Tykwar's brilliant Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, which if you've seen it...you'll be in the car right now on your way to the finest department store to buy Mugler. Ecstasy in a bottle. Unfortunately, the movie tie-in is 550 Euros and available only at Herrod's. Mugler's the number one parfumer of French women, and of Kid Sis.


I'm wearing:
Alien

Angel Violet




Eau de Star


Also wearing his beautiful shiny lip gloss. Tasting it right now. Yum. I feel expensive and...cherished.

Hitachi Magic Wand
It will change your lives and bring about world peace. My dream is to start a non-profit to buy one for every woman in the world! The attachments can be boiled/sterilized, and are made out of medical grade material so they won't cause allergic reactions or cancer (!) like the Rabbit.

Just buy it already. I named mine Jay, and I blush just thinking about him. In fact, I've woken up smiling several times with my arm wrapped around him next to my cheek. No joke.



Betsey Johnson's Lanica heels
Hot and comfortable. Love the happy guy in the Overstock comment section bragging about his woman showing her appreciation for the gift...so cute!



Linea Paolo's Adella sandal

The arch this heel gives my foot is in-sane. Soooo chic. Feels like a million bucks.

Yeah. Mmmmmnnnnnnnnn. I have to personally recommend wearing them and nothing else but Mugler perfume. Wow... Goddess, if only men in this town had higher sex drives (see Magic Wand above...what do they put in the LA water that makes men's appetites shrivel?). I could do that once or twice a day. Seeeeeeriously.

Yeah, for that special glow EVERYONE asks about, I also recommend getting a scrumptious Luvaaaah a decade younger...but they're on back-order. I took the last one.

Manometer

How do I know if a guy is worthy of my womanly thoughts?


a) If he reads my blog
b) If he reads Pistoleras in less than a week of receiving it

Easiest gauge in the world. If a guy isn't interested in my online diary or my freaking award-winning calling card, he ain't interested in

a) Talking with me
b) Working with me

Which happen to be my two favorite things in the world. Next to his favorite thing, which I ain't interested in without forging a connection through the first two first.

He gets a walk to first base if he reads Pistoleras on a plane while saving the world a la Pitt/Jolie. Oh, and a foul ball if he reads it and calls it "kooky" or "exploitation". Really.

So there. Couldn't be simpler to choose who to spend my limited time with.

Prowling Sunset

Went to the Kit Cat Club to hear Penelope play her lovely songs (Go to her Myspace page and listen to "Winter's Day"). Ubiquitous Penelope of the Mastercard commercial "Favorite Things", which I'd memorized even before I met her because A) Its theme is startlingly feminist B)She has a lovely presence C)I'd go gay for her. Under the right circumstances. Hey, it has to happen one of these days.

Danny B. Harvey (composer for Pistoleras and The Commune) was brilliant as always, backing her up on roomie James Trussart's famous crazy-ass custom steel guitar. I don't think I ever posted the photos of James's oubliette-esque guitar-making garage or of us all lounging around the living room during a jam, but I think the pix are on my last Myspace album page if you're interested. Heidi's doing a mean air guitar, and Vlad's there, too.

Lovely Lynda Kay of another Danny band Lonesome Spurs was there with the Coffin Purse she designed, talking all about her hubby's new tri-whatever motorcycle with three wheels that's being customized by the old dude who built the Batmobile.

Felt right at home walking into the club, as there were four large photos of Catwoman as played be the real actresses, and well, not by Halle Berry. Club Owner/Stray CatSlim Jim was very cool to me and amused by my Catwoman graduate thesis. He's going to play the drums on Danny's Pistoleras theme for us. Slim Jim wants to host the wrap party, so that's just perfect! Slim Jim's the second member of Danny's band Head Cat, with Lemmy of Motor Head completing the trio.

Afterwards we all hung at Swingers diner where I was pretty much the only person not to order the Jamaican Jerk Chicken other than Brenda. Oh well, next time. And there I got to dish with another Penelope, but one who has known Danny for twenty years. This one does continuity for Family Guy and American Dad, and is going to take me to a table read! Seth McFarlane better look out. My feelings may have waned a little in light of his alleged drinking and tomcat ways, but the heart wants what the heart wants. And me still want to lick the pretty funny man's face. Hot piece of smart-ass.

Elf Yourself

Happy It's Still November For Chrissakes!

Bad Mother Fucker

Yet another reader has joined Kid Sis Land by googling "How to buy Bad Mother Fucker wallet".

People. It's not that hard. Go to badmotherfuckerwallet.com

The end.

I've been a proud owner for years, and really should get a commission.

It's quite the conversation starter for a woman who doesn't need icebreakers. Especially with unsuspecting nuns and kids waiting in line next to me.

Fav recent story:


FADE IN:

After hours after Michael Hayes's movie premier. Empty Beverly Hills street.

LIS FIES, slighly toasted, belly full of garlic naan and goat meat. Kidding around with impossibly handsome smart wealthy witty RYAN, BRIAN, and ENTOURAGE.

BEHIND THEM

In the closed Indian Restauarant, a panicked INDIAN WAITRESS raps from the behind the window. Gestures frantically to the men, holding a cell phone and Bad Mother Fucker wallet carelessly left behind in the restaurant. The men look around at each other. Lis Fies steps forward like Spartacus didn't.

LIS FIES
Oops! Um, they're mine.

Slinks in her sweet 1950s dress and cardigan to claim the tawdry items.

The waitress unlocks the restuarant door and hands them to Lis with a perfect mix of condemnation and confusion as the industry men chortle in that "I'm in love with her" fashion.

LIS FIES
What? You think Dorothy Parker didn't own one of these babies?

END.

Fantastic week

What a great holiday. Spent a Lynchian Thanksgiving with Nurse Sis at our fav restaurant Lawrys, where the prime rib is to die for. Got there at 1 pm and left at 6 pm, hitting some kind of wormhole/tear in the space/time continuum. Still managed to eat an amazing amount of food considering how drunk we were by the time morsels were served and that we were able to chow shamelessly seated just one table away from diet guru Richard Simmons...This is how much food was leftover!

Went with Michael to Little Tokyo to try to get into the Moca's Muarakami (Japanese cartoonist), but didn't like the line. So we saw the Japanese Internment, Landscaping, and Giant Robot shows at the Japanese American National Museum (yea Cate Park! Go GR!)
Had waaaay too much sushi at Frying Fish, then headed to Chung King Road in Chinatown for dirty gay manga shopping, small museums, video and installation art.

Got our pictures taken in a Hello Kitty booth and in general behaved like teenage Japanese girls. Fuuuuun!

Had a good blind date with a producer/writer/actor. Caught up with Lauren at the Grove. Worked on the 'Mune. Watched "Battlestar Galactica RAZOR" (Looooving!!!!). Watched "A Lot Like Love" which was surprisingly interesting. Must remember to stop underestimating Ashton Kutcher, and Amanda Peet is always stupendous. Caught up on all the TV shows I'd be spec-ing if there weren't a strike on.

Today Colleen thoughfully took me to a DGA screening of "The Golden Compass", which was enthralling in the moment (I loves me my Christopher Lee and Ian McKellen), but quickly forgotten afterwards. We had a witty tete a tete lunch with impressive producers/actors Sam and Assef (whose name I'm surely not spelling correctly...and quit calling him Shirley!). This pic from inside the theatre in no way does anyone justice, as they are all beautiful, intriguing, driven to change-the-world artists inside and out.


I'd met Assef last year through ex-roomie Tara (whom we also ran into). Sam Feuer smells great, is whip-smart, listens, split two different Baja Fresh burritos with me so we could taste-test flavors, AND told me when I had something in my teeth. Which means he had the Lis Fies thumbs up waaaay before he had to go talking about the amazing political films he's producing and flying around the world doing cool/smart stuff for. You know, like meeting with the presidents of countries...this Thursday. Had Colleen and me at "political movie about a cancer cure squashed in the 50s by pharmaceutical companies" Oh yeah, with Michael Radford attached.

Also doing awesome: Colleen's "Criminal Minds" episode from two weeks ago is still available online, so go check it out and see her in "There Will Be Blood" this December. Oh, and she gave me "The Fountain" graphic novel back, so remind me if you were the one who wanted to borrow it next.

Up next: quick nap and then more sushi with more friends. Wow, what a lovely, memorable Thanksgiving.

A tip for the dating sistahs

Remember your Evolutionary Psychology when you're interacting with your menfolk. Men and women's brains are not wired the same, for very specific, wonderful reasons. Women connect and emote, men break through to freedom and purpose...alone.

What does this mean in your life? Well, the more intense a connection you make to a man, the harder he's going to boomerang back to focusing singularly on his life purpose, and may even be irritated by the time he's wasted bonding with you.

Women can connect all day and feel wonderful because it's their biological destiny. We were wired that way to keep tribes together, and give our warriors a soft space to land when they came home from protecting and providing. Men need and value what emotion and solace women provide, but if they are men and not boys, they can't have it all the time. Even most of the time. The more of a man you're with, the more intimate he'll be able to be sometimes, and the harder he's going to shove you out of bed the next morning.

So if you have an awesome night with a guy, don't wake up thinking everything's going to be changed and the best it's ever been between you two and that you're going to lay in bed together all day.

Unless you're going for round 2 or 3 or 4, which then...lucky girl! Smile! And THEN expect everything to turn into him being gruff, singularly focused on his life mission, and resentful you're not gone already.

The challenge as a woman with a sleep deficit is to step out of emotion and look at the situation logically as what it is: awesome. You did your job spectacularly. In fact, the more of an ahole he is, the better a job you did. You guided him to connection, to himself and to you and to scary male emotions. Now get the hell out of the way and let him be emotionless so he can go bag a lion. He'll be able to be strong physically and mentally for you now and do HIS awesome job, because you were strong and mature enough for him to trust you with his emotions last night.

In fact, the more he gripes about the lack of sleep and dirty sheets and getting back to his job, the more of a bid he's making for your appreciation and respect for his manliness...he has an important job to do!! Love it about him. Give him a few strokes for being a strong man, fart in his bed (okay, that was an accident), then get out of his way and go live your life with a smile on your face, because you're dating men instead of boys. Lucky girl!

It's a challenge...you have to be a cool woman. A woman who's in control of her emotions and is emotionally intelligent. And you'll eff up and take it personally sometimes, and misinterpret, and snap back because you haven't had your coffee yet. It's okay to be a fallible human female. But you'll be a lot happier and bring more meaning to the world if you can figure out your truest purpose and gift as a woman, and practice it every day. That's unconditional love for yourself, which you have to have first if you're going to bring any light and joy and happiness and beautiful magical womanliness to the world.

Our natures are biological. Don't be the feminist who fights our true selves by trying to be a man, or trying to make a man into a woman. We need each other's differences, and to get each other's differences and make safe spaces for them to thrive. That's being actualized. That's building a world where men and women empower each other to be their best selves. (which by the way, women can have life purposes too...and demonstrating the above through films is mine.)

You Have Your PhD in Men

You understand men almost better than anyone. You accept that guys are very different, and you read signals well. Work what you know about men, and your relationships will be blissful.

How Well Do You Understand Men?