A Star Is Aborted?

So, last night was the fundraiser for Betsy's awesome film about hair. I've been having some... hormonal difficulties lately, as has my beloved Marci, so we were not such a great team full of get up and go to get out and party. Marci kept warning that if she felt really bad things could go TERRIBLY WRONG, whereas I was in one of those moods where suddenly there was nothing, anywhere, ever that I could wear that could possibly look good on me. You ever get in one of those? Where you look in the mirror and, consciously, you know you're 30-something, working two jobs and eating take-out almost every night, but some voice inside of you suddenly starts screaming "WHERE THE HELL WENT MY 20-YEAR-OLD BODY?!" Not that I appreciated it back then or put it to much good use. Mainly I tried to destroy it with never sleeping and consuming way too many illegal substances - which, hey, I guess it worked. But I'm just saying. Sometimes, when Autumn descends and it's suddenly dark and cold all the time and Halloween means wearing jeans, watching children parade and being in bed by 9:30, as opposed to dressing up for a sackful of candy or a drunken night of anonymous dirty dancing, it's a little depressing.

Anyway, M downed a bottle of Advil and I solved my problem by incongrously falling back on something I might have worn in 1985, which, fortunately, is somewhat back in style right now (at least I hope), and on we went.

I must say I was impressed with Betsy's ability to pull together a party. No mere "I've got some costumes and a barn, let's put on a show!" affair, this thing was in a swank Soho clothing store-cum-art gallery with a delicious and varied spread, free beer and wine and a lot of happening and interesting folks. And, most striking was the fact that she got it all donated. Go, Betsy. And if you have some time, would you like to coordinate a rent party for me?

Anyway, a bit of wine and good conversation tempered my angst somewhat, although I was still a bit manic. I did greatly enjoy the ten minute trailer and the performance of Nelson doing his "electric chaircut" thing, because who knew a haircut could not only be blatant (as opposed to subconscious or unexpected) bondage and masochism, but it could sound like a cross between Led Zepplin and Pac-Man?.

Still, it was a little weird, because all evening people kept coming up to me and saying "oh, I saw you in the previous version of the movie! You were sooo funny. I just don't understand why you were cut out." Um, so what am I supposed to say to that? "Oh, thank you" and "me neither?" I mean, the truth is that I agree I was pretty funny in the movie - I worked kind of hard on it. But then, I suppose that took away from the genuineness and/or drama of my sections. I mean, perhaps the world is too blasé to notice the subtle interior pain of the sad clown... or maybe I'm just not that interesting. But in actuality, I do believe Betsy's explanation that, as it sometimes happens in the film world, something had to go and I just happened to be it. After all, it's not as though I came out to my parents or overcame substance addiction during the filming. I just overcame my addiction to loneliness and opened my heart to my one true love and a healthy relationship. Sad, sad clown...

Anyway, thanks to all who tried to bolster me by telling me I should have still made the cut. I hope I didn't make you too uncomfortable as I stumbled through my reactions, trying to blithely acknowledge the unpredictable nature of showbiz and reaffirm my friend's right to remain true to both the constraints of editing and her artistic vision, while inside I was thinking "are you just trying to make me feel better? Do I look desperate for attention to you? Because, really, I kinda am. But hey, I was in the Village Voice, did you see me? Did I look fat? And I might be another movie, sometime! Or not, because I'm well adjusted and not a famewhore and really am just following the path that All That Is/the Higher Truth of the Universe has set out for me. Ommmmmmm..."

And keep raising money for Betsy's movie, 'cause that's what's important.