The slings and arrows

Why is it so hard to be loved?

Is it because we inherently don't feel we deserve it? Is it because you survived while others didn't? You're not as beautiful or full of light or whole as you used to be? Your baggage to too great to be vulnerable again with another human being? Or maybe we just hate ourselves.

I never thought myself as one of those idiots who's self loathing was so great that they would turn away from love, to run from the fear of it. But here I am. So caught up in my own insecurity, confusion, my desperate and pathetic need to please and the pain of rejection, distrust and judgment so great, I can't even move at times. Or breathe. Or see the room in front of me.

What's the answer? I think sometimes it's to let go, love recklessly, fall head first, even though there is a 100% guarantee that I'll end the night with a arrow though my reckless stupid head. And how many arrows can my head take? Do I ignore the hurtful things said just to be free of them? Do I shrug off more criticism so they can't weight me down?

If only I thought life was richer without love. But I know that to be untrue and can't ignore the possibility of a half lived life. I must navigate and find a way.

But if anyone has a map, a compass or even vague directions, I'll take them.

Hollyweird - Part One

What ever happened to Baby Jane? Only this house knows. If you have never seen this movie, get it right now! Bette Davis was only about 54 when she made this film so you have got to give her credit for not being afraid to look like utter hell on camera. Joan Crawford played Bette sister and boy howdy, did they hate each other. Both were raging bitches in their own right but when put together really stirred up trouble. Bette put in a Coke machine in her room just to upset Joan, who held a seat at the Pepsi board of directors. During a scene where Bette was to drag Joan's near lifeless body, Joan put weights in her pockets and made herself so heavy Bette threw out her back. Me-ow! Not pictured is the home next door, which Judy Garland lived in while filming The Wizard of Oz.

Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright Jr. (also the inventor of lincoln logs and son of the famous architect) it's often referred to as the Jaws House. It was also home to Dr. George Hodel, who was one of a few suspects in the Black Dahlia murder case. Many think this is the house where Elizabeth Short was murdered then chopped up. Yum...

It used to be known as "The House That Nat Built", the Capitol Records Building has been a part of music history that can never be replaced. In '08, CBS broadcast a report that the legendary echo chambers, designed by Les Paul, could no longer be used because of construction noise from neighbors, although it's denied by those doing the noise making. It's said that the light on the rooftop spire of the Capitol Records building flashes "H-O-L-L-Y-W-O-O-D" in Morse code, but I'm not fluent.

The Chateau Marmont, the white house on the hill, has a torrid past. Led Zepplin road their motorcycles through the lobby. Bogart would work in the bungalow garden. Construction began in 1927 as apartments but when 1929 hit, it turned into a hotel. John Belushi died of a drug overdose in Bungalow #3. F. Scott Fitzgerald had a heart attack in the lobby. Grace Kelly hung by the pool. Jim Morrison hung off the side of the building by a drain pipe. Montgomery Clift recouped from his nearly fatal accident in one of the penthouses, rented for him by Elizabeth Taylor. Jean Harlow spent her honeymoon among the shadded trees and flowers. The place is just dripping in history, ghost stories and scars. One day, I'm going to stay there and maybe drive my mini cooper on the sidewalk... or something a little more rock and roll.

Follow the cute little bird tracks to the next installment of my long overdue trip to the darker side of LA.