Actor's Academy 2009: Now in color!
Since Academy has let out, I haven't stopped seeing Academy people. We all have this magnetism toward one another, drawn... forcibly... THAT'S IT! Tracy has planted microchips in our brains and is turning us into actor-zombies! And they said I was crazy.
Yesterday my friend and I hosted a bonfire at the harbor. It was an interesting and to say the least entertaining event. The two of us got there early to hold a fire pit for a few hours, tanning, building things out of rocks, etc. People were here and gone throughout the evening, and random people I've never met were popping in and out... and eating my marshmallows [death face]!
So here's what's up: there are a number of places to park to get to the fire pits. The closest option is to park right next to them and pay a $10 fee, and the cheapest option is to park in the free lot and make a 10-minute trek. What a lot of people were doing was just parking in the pay lot and keeping a wary eye out for meter maids and officers of the law. This method seemed to be working quite nicely for the majority of the evening, until a pair of cops rolled in around 11 or midnight. At least three friends had their cars parked without payment. They tried to talk their way out of it and say they had just got there and were just dropping off wood, blah blah... so the cops-- one male, one female-- reprimanded them and let them move their cars... except for ONE friend, because the female officer "had already started writing the ticket." Now this is booshit if ever I've heard it. This friend had committed no offense greater than the others, yet she was the only one who had to pay a $55 fine. To top it off, the female officer was being an incessant bitch about the entire matter. Now, I'm not typically a "fuck the cops" kinda gal, but this harpy was being unnecessarily rude and condescending. Even after she wrote the ticket she was just going on and on and saying this, that and the other thing. Completely unwarranted, especially since everyone had shown her nothing but politeness and submissiveness (and that's no lie). As the friend with the ticket was preparing to leave, she was enraged. Can you blame her? The victimization of the situation. One fire pit over from us, a bunch of squatter kids in dreads and jeans and studs and what-have-you told her she had the 1st Amendment freedom of speech, and she could tell that cop off however she liked (as long as no threats were made). So my friend bellowed out a hearty "Fuck you!" to the cop and got in her car. Immediately, the cop sped over in her cute little police van and began yelling, "WHAT did you just say to me?!" Yelling and fighting ensued. Another friend joined in on the mad dogging of this bitch of a cop, dropping such gems as, "It's freedom of speech, DARLING." The two drove out of the lot with the cop on their tails. I called them later and they were fine, just very invigorated and laughing their asses off.
Moments later, some chick at the bonfire who I didn't know took out two balls attached to chains, attached the other ends to her wrists, set the balls on fire, and began fire dancing right then and there.
The squatters really seemed to enjoy it. Well, yeah, I mean, it WAS entertaining. There's some chick standing on the beach at midnight twirling two balls of fire in the air. They were coming within inches of her face and hair, too. It was interesting and unexpected. But at that point I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my friends had just stomped the yard around a cop and had exeunted pursued by police officer... and now a skinny blond girl was throwing around fire balls.
She bounced soon after, and it was down to the small group of us that hadn't been alienated by the police, plus the squatters. They were chill, and their dog was cool. Then they left too, except for one guy. He hung out with us for a while; bizarre dude. He looked really young but I think he said he was 19. We had various conversations with him, some light-hearted, some slightly unnerving. He was hitting on one of my friends, until she sort of scooted off into another conversation. Then he was hitting on me the rest of the night, despite the fact that a handsome guy was attached to my hand and pecking me, as if that wasn't a clear enough indication that I wasn't precisely a prime candidate for mingling. Yet he persisted. He wanted to massage my feet-- and I let him, though in retrospect I don't know if that was the right thing to do. He said it turned him on, and that was certainly a bit alienating. He was nice enough though, and he wasn't about to chop my toes off or anything. The only thing was I was having a mini interior battle of whether I was being a harlot for letting a guy with a foot fetish touch my feet. It did nothing for me-- trust me-- but he was getting a kick (Oho! My cleverness amazes me sometimes) out of it, so I wasn't sure if I SHOULD feel gross for being an accessory to that sensation. But whatever, I spent the last part of my evening holding the hand of a guy who's presence I greatly enjoy, and having my feet rubbed by another guy who... well, he was just there. I felt slightly waited upon, like Cleopatra, only at a dirty beach.
The foot fetish kid wanted to hang out with all of us tomorrow, but we dodged that. I wasn't keen on the idea of hanging out with him for extended periods of time, but I'm not about to promise to meet up with a guy (who really just wants company) and then bail. He was a weird and misguided kid, but nice and mellow enough.
After we stoked the fire and packed up I came home and slept deeply... in the nude, because I can't afford to wear clothes on these hot Summer nights, followed up by hellish Summer mornings in the tin box that is my room.
Tile guys are currently here at the house, installing... I'm going to let you guess. Everything is rearranged so the floor is completely clear. I'll admit, it's a little silly having our refrigerator sitting in the middle of the living room. But it's a nice change of scenery.
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