The rain is falling outside my living room window, it’s open and I hear the drop drop droplets falling from the metal gutter to the ground below, landing in piles of mud or puddles or water, landing so close to me and I’m dry. It’s falling on the roof, through the trees, and soaking the ground I just walked upon, Los Angeles is officially wet, and there will be a surge of accidents tonight because people here don’t understand the key to driving in the rain is to drive slowly. It’s a fast paced city, with people needing to be where they are going, but I like the long drive home, 10 miles slower than usual, the raindrops on my windshield. I love the rain.
Today was a big day of cleaning house. When I woke up, I made a list, and tried my best to stick to it. These lists (I make tons of lists but am easily distracted and caught up with other things, usually life) help me through the day. I’ll share my list here.
1. Call Matt — doing tomorrow
2. Laundry — 6 loads completed
3. Clean Bathroom — check
4. Sweep and Polish floor — most of it check
5. Paint — sketched some
6. Speak with agent about book — check
7. Print off proposal — tomorrow
8. Empty suitcase from Mexico — check
9. Organize Closet — check (for the most part)
10. GoDaddy, what’s the hold up — check
11. Benz Buybye call — tomorrow
12. Follow up on sold art — check
13. Follow up on sold AVN — check
14. Dance — eh…
15. Meeting — check
Through the day, I quit checking things off, I kind of did everything at once so felt funny checking things off before they were finished. Looking around my home, the clean clean smell, I think I did pretty good. I can’t believe it took me this long to unpack the fucking suitcase. Old habits die hard.
When I did porn, I never knew what I’d need for set the next day, so I always kept two suitcases packed and ready to go. One with slutty stripper gear, and another with nice girl next door gear. The bags usually sat in my trunk, and when they finally did make it to my bedroom, they sat on the floor unopened. I never wore any of the clothes that I wore to set out into the real world. The stripper suitcase for obvious reasons. The girl next door stuff? I just felt funny sitting at dinner in the same shirt that was ripped from my sweaty body no less than 2 hours before. My work clothes and my real person clothes never mingled. I’ve lived a double life for too long.
Now that I work from home (painting and writing), my work clothes are my real person clothes and it’s nice to have one wardrobe representing my life. All the work clothes are piled in bags, waiting to be sold on eBay along with the rest of my adult oriented paraphernalia. Clothes, shoes, DVD’s, 8×10’s, dildo’s, the whole lot is going on sale within the week. I figure someone will want to buy this stuff. It’s not like I can donate it to charity…imagine showing up at Goodwill with a trunk load of vibrators, or school girl outfits that no “school” girl would ever actually wear. So it’s going for sale on eBay and out of my home. That’s going on tomorrow’s list of things to do.
Tomorrow will also be dedicated to baking cookies and savory treats, Christmas gifts for friends and loved ones. It’s time to start now since I’ll be in Portland as of the 22nd. I’m a fantastic baker, but not a fantastic chef. I got in a fight tonight with my oven (I’ve been cooking cookies up at Deezy’s, never actually used my own oven), and the oven won. It was me and my frozen dinner vs mini oven from hell. Mini oven from hell gets a lot hotter than whatever it said it was, and frozen dinner turned into plastic and sour chicken delight. I have a feeling lean cuisine didn’t account for my super oven, nor did they calculate the extra calories added by melted plastic. Some things are just out of my control.
Phone back on, just had to switch sim cards. Silly girl. Years and years of marijuana abuse have left me a bit foggy when it comes to things requiring common sense. I am constantly baffled by the simplest of things, and in awe of the most complicated.
I guy said something tonight that really stuck with me. About living in the now. How the future doesn’t mean shit because it isn’t promised. And the past doesn’t mean shit because we can’t change it. And if we keep living in a future or a past that’s worth shit, our present never exists because we fail to recognize we are living at this precise moment. This very now.
I think that’s why I like the rain so much. It’s hard to think of anything else with the pounding on the glass, or the sound of tires on wet pavement. It’s hard to get caught up in earlier today because it was sunny and totally different from now, and I don’t care if it’s raining tomorrow because I can’t stop thinking about clouds bursting over Hollywood and the heavens crying in a grand effort to clean this city of the dogshit and nonsense. I’m happy to go to sleep listening to the rain, and smelling the earth as it rinses itself of us.