Heineken

That's what I'm drinking right now...a Heinekin. It makes me happy.

Ahhhh, yeahhh [deep sighhhhhh]

I'm at the office. It's 11:03pm on Saturday night and I'm at the office. Did I say, "I'm at the office?" Oh, right. Back there three times. Sorry. Just wanted to make sure everyone knew I was at the office. There' s a perfectly good explanation, but it still screams, "LOSER!" no matter how you tell it.

But I'm gonna tell it...so liketahearithearitgoes.

I'm flying to Toronto, Ontario tomorrow morning. I'm going to be staying there for 2 months to work on our TBS project. Our fucking CBS pilot didn't get picked up. The one that would've landed me the promotion that I've been working towards for 2 years. And would've gotten me to NY. Yeah. THAT one. Didn't get picked up. So now I'm going to Toronto to work with a bunch of characters on our other thing. I was trying to stay positive but that wasn't working so I thought I'd blog it out. It's my therapy. So I logged onto Internet Explorer to get to my blog and I have CNN.com as my homepage. Please check out this article I saw as I logged on:

http://www.cnn.com/2006/WORLD/americas/06/03/canada.terror/index.html

Uhhhhhh, YEAH! Just lovely. I didn't realize Canadians were so bad ass, but regardless, I don't need to see that the night before I board a plane to Toronto.

Then I saw this article. Is it bad that I wish I could be there to party with them?

http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/06/03/hell.party.ap/index.html

To catch everyone up to speed I have moved out (as of tomorrow) of the Bev Hills 90210 house I lived in for 3 years. My friend that owns the house has gotten engaged and his woman's moving in and needs my room for her stuff. So I'm out.

When I get back from Toronto I'll be homeless.

That sucks.

Then when I'm done with this job in Toronto I'll most likely be jobless as well.

That sucks.

I need anti-anxiety medication. I'm serious. [sipping Heinekin] I think it'll really help me. I was always anti-taking pills but now I've gone to the other side and feel that having anxiety all the time really isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'm now just anti-anxiety. If a pill helps me get through a rough patch - then why the hell not?

So why am I at the office? Before I take off for Toronto I needed to park my piece of shite 1987 Nissan Sentra at work so my co-worker can keep an eye on it. I meant to do it earlier today, but I went over to my boss's house to do something on his computer and it took longer than expected. BUT, the payoff was his wife had friends over for her birthday and they had leftover Dom Perignon so I had 4 glasses while I was on his computer.

I love LA. Sipping my Dom while working on some guy's computer.

So then I drove to work. Dumped my car. Came into the office to grab a Heine and thought I'd blog.

What else is going on? I had one last night with Hot Actor Boy Jeffrey. It was...interesting. He had a friend in town and they were going out with a bunch of friends to Baha Cantina - a really fun meat-market type of margarita joint. I love it. Reminds me of Rio Bravo in Buckhead (which is now shut down - so sad).

So I get to the place - can't find him anywhere. I call. No answer. Order and drink a margarita by myself. I call. No answer. I order another margarita. Befriend the 2 guys and 2 girls sitting at the bar in front of me. One of the guys is an actor and had auditioned for our CBS pilot. Reminded of how small a town LA is. I take another look around the bar and finally find Jeffrey. He had grown a beard when he was in Thailand and I didn't recognize him.

He looks hot. As usual.

He's at a HUGE table with tons of friends so I take a seat at the end and chat up his friends. Drink more margaritas. The 2 guys I chatted with earlier come find me. We bond over the fact that the 2 girls they were with were annoying. One of the guys asks for my number and as I'm giving it to him I say, "Oops. I'm moving in a week sooo..." He shuts his phone. It hits me that I'm really leaving. I drink more alcohol.

Jeffrey, his friends & I go to another bar and I have a couple beers. His friends are really cool and I'm having fun. Then I make some snide comment to him and he says, "What are you doing? Are you picking a fight?" I look at him and am about to bust into tears so I run out of the bar........and proceed to bust into tears.

Apparently I wasn't raised to be okay with sleeping with a guy for YEARS but not feel anything towards that person. God damn my parents. I proceed to cry and try to stop myself which only makes me cry more. I tell Jeffrey that I've been really lonely in LA and he's kept me going and I cherish out time together but I'm not able to sleep with him and feel nothing. He grabs me and tells me that he wouldn't keep calling me if he didn't care about me. Part of me felt like he meant it. Part of me felt like he was just saying it because I was crying. I was drunk - who knows.

He was such a sweetheart though. A trooper really. We went back to his place. I grabbed his guitar and pretended I could play (In another life I'm going to be a GREAT guitar player) . He said I looked sexy holding the guitar. He taught me how to strum. We smoked pot. I felt better. He found some massage oil and gave me a really long massage. I felt better. We had sex. I felt much better.

Then I couldn't sleep and wanted to have sex again. So I rubbed him in the right ways and we got worked up and then the most interesting thing happened: We had angry sex. I've never done that before but we were pushing each other away and hitting each other (lightly) and it went on for a long time. It was really fucking interesting.

Then we slept and had the morning sex. GOD I love the morning sex. Then we went out to breakfast and it was awkward. There were so many things I wanted to say to him. I hate how he's never ONCE asked me anything about myself. How many siblings do I have? Did I play sports in high school? Who's my favorite Olympian? WHAT-ever. Just something. But no. We just sat there. Finally he said, "Soooo, Toronto huh?" I could barely talk about it though for fear of my tear bucket overflowing again. I'm too damn sensitive.

At the end of the breakfast we talked about the book "Night" and he said he'd mail me his copy so I could read it. I emailed him my address and instead of the book he emailed me a postcard he had written to me when he was in Thailand. He had put the Thai stamps on it, but didn't have my address to mail it. He had saved it. And mailed it to me. His way of saying, "Shut up. I care about you." It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot.

So tomorrow I fly to Toronto. Then next weekend I fly to Vegas to celebrate my Aunt Diana's 60th birthday. She's skydiving. My dad will be there. I can't wait to see him! And my cousins Randy & Steve who kick ass as well. I miss my family.