don't kill my claudia

2003-06-26 - 12:38 a.m.

just been going through some old online journals that i used to read. in reading neil gaiman i discovered that a history channel special on the history of comics that i didn't even know existed will be reshown this very saturday at 10pm. how lovely.

i love reading neil's journal, because he's so real. this man who has created the worlds that i worship is so very real. it's a beautiful thing, reading an idol's thoughts on common things from the everyday. i still hyperventilate and my heart pounds when i think about seeing him in person. i just can't shake that rockstar feeling about him, and his realness just increases that feeling. i'm promising myself that when i meet him for the fourth time i'm going to be cool. icy cucumber, baby.

he manages to keep an online journal and be a professional writer. the man is amazing.

then i was reading moby at his online journal. he was writing an entry from france, and in it he apologized to his former classmates. seems he's going to have to miss his high school reunion because he'll be on tour. i think that entry might be my favourite yet, just because of the mixture of realism and celebrity stardom. it's like those tales of real people randomly meeting celebrities, like that girl who had a first-class plane trip with all five members of 'nsync, purely by chance. it's like modern dreams come to life.

moby also wrote about his sadness at the death of alan lomax. he was in my hometown when he wrote that. i saw the show he performed here, then i read about alan lomax's death in his journal. then just one month later i was working on transcribing alan lomax's journal, converting it from almost illegible handwriting to computer disks in scotland. so there's my connection to moby, funnily enough. i also wrote him a very well thought and well-written letter, but i don't even know if he got it.

remember back in the day when you could send fanmail to one address and receive a form letter inviting you to join the fanclub? sure, it was impersonal, but damn it was cool when my sister wrote to the new kids on the block and actually got something back in the mail! nowadays you're doing good just to find some address, any address, to send adulations and confessions of love to. i've thought about writing many letters to many celebrities throughout my life, but i've only actually put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, i should say) three times: dave navarro, moby, and jack white.

i sent dave an email to an address i found on his personal website, and i actually got a reply from some lady who assured me that dave was forwarded all of his fanmail (in my letter i wrote things along the lines of 'i don't know if you'll even get to read this,' etc.) and i wrote back a thank you to said lady at the same address, but i never heard back from dave himself. sure, i did ask him things such as 'do you like waffles?' and actually, that's pretty much the only part that i remember, so i might have seemed odd, but i was just trying to make him real. why dave navarro? don't ask. it was a phase.

that was around my freshman or sophomore year of college. several years later, just after i graduated from college, i wrote to moby just before seeing his show in my hometown. once again it was sent to an email address i found on his website. i never heard anything from anyone, but i'm okay with sending letters into the void. it's the chance you've gotta take.

finally, of course, there's my fabulous open letter to jack white, posted elsewhere on diaryland, never physically sent anywhere. and believe me, if i could find some sort of address, i would send it. i'd like for jack to get the chance to read it if for no other reason than i'd like to think that he'd get a laugh from it.

of course, this is the world-wide web. for all i know he's reading this right now. jack, are you out there?

heh. yeah right. jack hates modern technology. i've done my homework. i'm in the know. it's just one more reason why we're perfect together: i'm his link to the new age. it's just like anne rice's vampires: i'm louis, he's armand.
only he wouldn't, y'know, kill my claudia.

i brought up the irony of demanding truth and realness in those around me and then immersing myself in the fantasy of movies to special k. as i was reading the article on luke wilson in the latest issue of rolling stone, i thought to myself, 'holy lord, i could totally be an actress. i could just move on out to l.a. and act for a living.' it was sort of an epiphany. and i could, too. i really believe that i could. i wouldn't have to be gwyneth paltrow or meg ryan (nor would i want to be) but i could totally be an actor. just a random actor, one of those people who gets around, the one you see in any given number of movies out at the same time and say, 'now who is that girl? i know i've seen her in something else before. what else has she done?' if people making bad movies can still get work, then i can totally get a gig as check-out girl #3 in something. but then i thought of the irony of pursuing a job based in fantasy, and how nowadays that really is the ideal job, manufacturing fantasy.

my bags aren't packed yet. but i would like to be in one movie, at least one, at some point in my life, even if i'm just an extra. and i'd really like to be in an interesting movie. as i was watching 'sleepy hollow' yesterday evening, i thought about how i would like to be in interesting films. 'sleepy hollow' is an interesting movie. i would like to be in interesting movies. i had this thought at the exact moment when johnny depp, christina ricci, and that cute kid who plays young masbeth jump from the arms of the giant windmill and fall to the ground.

i think i could handle being around celebrities. i can be cool around celebrities, as long as they aren't neil gaiman.