The Ponzi Meme

Tagged by Banks with this little meme/scheme and with no one left to tag cause I'm at the bottom of this little pyramid, but here goes. . .






I can't believe I never did. . . Nothing. No regrets for what I failed to do because, if I had done whatever it might have been, I wouldn't be in this very place right now. Tres zen. (I'll probably think of eighty things for this tomorrow) addendum: I knew I would think of something, but there's no regret - I can't believe I never did get into a physical fight in my adult life, especially considering my temper and my propensity for provoking violence in others.

Every time I think about those kidney stones, I still cringe. Not embarassing, but if you had them, you'd cringe and weep with the memory.

I wish I'd never helped duct tape Dwayne Buethal and Randy Cope to folding chairs and flown them into the theater flyloft for half the day in high school, when I had the chance. It was a cruel joke done to people who took more shit than anyone should just because they were two of "those kids" that suffered the most in their teens and were easy targets for it. There is no forgiveness in my soul for myself.

I've never felt so out of place as when I went to my first "Hollywood Party". My agent threw it as a meet and greet for me and then peopled it with D-girls, low-level wannabes, feckless agents, and semi-celebs; all blowing air kisses, smoke up each other's asses, and the not so faint aroma of desperation for what anyone else had that might be used to further themselves. I knew from that moment the entire business would either kill me or make me throw up daily. Thank God, the jaded Paul Mantee was there, holding court, holding a Scotch, chain smoking, laughing at the excess and mercifully pulling me out of vacuous conversations whenever he saw me wincing. He saved me and proved to be the only true friend I ever met in that town. Without him I would have thrown myself from that deck to the depths of Mullholland Canyon.

Just watching my kids sleep when I should be doing something like cleaning the house is my guiltiest pleasure.

I hope Lee knows how grateful I am for teaching me the truth about unconditional, brotherly love, what it means to go without, and the deep sorrow that comes with its end. Life is more precious - bitterly so - than it would have been had I never lost him.

In my darkest hours, I secretly blame myself and only myself for my dysfunction. But then I do that in my brightest hours, as well.

Katie, Arlo & Flyn changed my life forever for the better.

Tagging out to K, RC, and Ms. Wiley