As it pertains to regular living…

Posted on November 5, 2009


Once upon a time in a place not far from here…there lived a girl.

The more and more press I do, the more I realize my life is changing. I know it’s kind of silly to say, because it seems like such an obvious idea, one does television show, ones life changes. But had I not taken the show as seriously as I did, had I not implemented change into every aspect of my life, had I merely gone along living as I once had post experience, my life would still be changing, but in negative ways that would be manifesting themselves as I type these words. Instead, the world has opened it’s beautiful mahogany doors to me so that I may wander around in its fabulous apartment, rich with the smell of leather bound books. Once I made the decision to quit pornography and live for me, to pursue dreams I didn’t dare to dream since I was a little girl, they all started coming true, in leaps and bounds.

I just arrived home from New York, went to Manhattan to do another talk show, more press for our show, and it isn’t sitting on the stage that makes the positive changes in my life so apparent, it’s the feelings before and after, it’s the moments leading into the on stage second, and the moments leading away. It’s funny how I’ve started to participate in life to the fullest, which means that the second on stage isn’t the climax of my day, it’s every moment I am here breathing and able to enjoy each breath.

Yesterday morning, a towncar picked me up at 5:30am for a 7:30am flight. Before? I would have been hung over, throwing up in the bathroom before hopping in the car, sleeping on the way to the airport, drinking in the bar pre-flight, and then passed out on the plane, time travel the only explanation for my waking up in a new city. Now? I woke up, enjoyed two cups of coffee and read the news, took a shower, wrote some emails on the way to the airport, bought water from a vendor, and watched “500 days of Summer” on the way there. I napped here and there, but as napping and passing out from early morning intoxication are completely different things, I am not hard on myself about the little shut eye.

Arrive in NYC, take a towncar to the hotel. Towncars are becoming a regular way of life, paid for by the kind folks at VH1, and nothing is more grand than driving through the city, looking up through dark windows, and thanking and tipping the driver brave enough to take on New York’s streets. Once I settled in the hotel, I met up with my dear man P-Funk, for some dinner and chitty chatty conversation. P-Funk is hilarious, straight outta NY, with the dawgs and cawffee, cracks jokes at my expense all night, and doesn’t drink if I don’t drink. While totally unnecessary, makes me smile and warm with appreciation. After our dinner, I walked up to Junior’s for cheesecake, a rough 20 blocks in the brisk fall air, and then back down. If this whole sequence was pre April? I would be shitfaced, would have gotten us thrown out of Stouts, never would have made it to delicious pumpkin cheesecake, and passed out hard, never mind intentionally closing my eyes.

In the morning, I woke at 8, showered, shaved, and went to meet P-Funk for some cawffee around 9, feeling refreshed, revived and ready for the day. After our morning laughs, I sat outside the hotel smoking and finishing my cuppa joe, working on my script with the clarity of the chilly morning sky. I didn’t barf, I didn’t feel like shit, I wasn’t late, I was prepared and ready to be on point. Once we got to the show, I went where I was told, felt weird vibes from a guy backstage and removed myself from his presence. Pre-April? I would have loved Mr. Weirdcreepy’s vibe and played a game of who can be nastier. Now, I just went to a different greenroom. I picked up on things that didn’t feel right, outside of the Mr. Creeperson experience, and knew what to call out loud, and what to let go. I didn’t start shit. I was just present. Drew was having a bit of a hard day, and I was able to be there for him, even though he has plenty of support, and people around him that can be there for him, it’s always nice to have one more. I am glad to say I can be there for Dr. Drew as he has been for me.

Towncar, way back to airport, the driver refused to stop for cheesecake. I text Deezy that I want to punch this driver, I am dying for cakes, and he said no punching, just sleeper hold, and that I deserve cake. I get the joke. It’s time to let go of my “can’t get cheesecake whenever I want it” anger, I’m just not that tight. Get to the airport, realize the show producers forgot to give me back my ID, and instead of freaking out, (well actually I was a little cuntish by that point but with good reason, reasons I will not go into here…) I very calmly called my publicist and told him. WIthin an hour and a half my ID was delivered to JFK (helped that I was there 4.5 hours early). As I sat outside the airport, I realized every other time I’ve had this much time pre flight, I end up wasted and almost missing the flight. Not today friends, not today.

Towncar back home, and talking with a buddy about the trip, about the nonsense, and the fact that if I ever get sick of the run around, or go here, say this, do that, breathe now, I can just stop and live my life, and I know it’s true, and that’s a good feeling. I walk up to my door, a bag hanging from the doorknob, walk inside, open the gift, “Welcome home Snookies- love Deezy” and it’s a piece of cheesecake. Fucking delicious nutritious cheesecake. The cheesecake I had almost murdered for, but held back on the advice of my dear Deezy. And the retarded thing? The piece of cheesecake made me want to fucking cry. Because I haven’t had friends like this before, like Deezy or LAX phone call advice man, Angel Pie texting to make sure I’m here all right, D checking in with my checking in, when I left before, I could have disappeared into the dark night, never to make a sound again, and nobody would have noticed. That stupid piece of delicious cheesecake meant more to me than the show, than meeting the host, than the towncars, and free flights. A regular piece of cheesecake became the culmination of my trip, the gift so thoughtful, it made me glad to be home.

It reminded me I have a home.

Posted in: Good Days