bad kitty files

I woke up next to Lila in her sunny room in her sunny ranch style house in the hills above "the valley," on yet another sunny day in L.A. No parents around, no breakfast being cooked, no sister’s shampoo scent wafting from the bathroom.    Oh, there was her cute brother, but he was just a blur, a whir of hormones passing by on his way to somewhere else.    The scent of shag carpet and Chanel #5 wafted around in the warming air, as the perpetual L.A. bouquet garni of anise, sage, mustard plant and smog drifted in through cream-colored plantation shutters.   The slow morning came after a long night spent in a white bread restaurant club so mismatched to my sensibilities that it felt like an uncomfortable research project, rather than the kind of fun I would have in the comfort of dirty rock clubs, jazz clubs and dive bars where I felt more at home.    I was trying on lifestyles, and for this one I wore new and shiny clothes meant for chicks with acrylic nails and gold jewe

The stories are out there. Everywhere. The world is full of fall-out from the follow-your-bliss train. Exhausted, baffled people everywhere, devotees of the church of good faith, broad-sided by the painful truth that devotion and good faith are no guarantee of anything. I say, let yourself off the hook for the whole damned thing, let everyone else go too, and just say ‘oh well.’ These are wise words offered to me once by an over-achiever. This is what you say when you fuck up or lose; an antidote for the moments when you get whacked by life and all mundane human failings are revealed. It's not intuitive and sounds "soft" to many but it's well worth a whirl. So your whole damned life plan didn’t pan out. Oh well. So you devoted yourself completely, as wholly as your awareness allowed along the way, and it doesn’t seem like the world reached back at ya’. Oh well. So you did some great work and some got out there into the world, or maybe none did, but you’ve got