Real vs. Fake

I will start by my recent trip to the grocery store. I am a faithful patron of Trader Joe's. "Whole Foods for the working-class".. They have a variety of natural foods, ranging from fancy to economical. While not having the full selection and quality of Whole Foods, you can walk away with one week's worth of groceries for well under $100. A frequent Sunday routine for me consists of putting laundry in the wash at the laundy mat next to Trader Joe's, then either read, talk on the phone, or wash my car a block away. I put my laundry in the dryer and face the weekend grocery crowd at TJ's.
This Sunday however, I was stopped minutes short of getting my groceries because, as I neglected to remember, TJ's closes at 9pm.. hmpph..
I then went home, hungry, and grocery-less. I considered the options: fuck food, I'll eat tomorrow; Grab something at Baja Fresh or Sharky's; or go to the 24hr Ralphs and get dinner AND groceries. "What the hell," I thought, "I'll go to Ralphs."
I was surprised with the selection of natural, organic foods. I refuse to buy all the crap from the big food corporations, packed with preservatives and flashy packaging. It may be cheaper, (and tasty) but my health is more important than my money. Not to say I'm a health saint- booze and cigarettes are pretty bad for you, even in moderation- but.. well whatever.... not today.
So..
I was fairly satisfied with my Ralph's experience, doesn't beat Trader Joe's, but it wasn't too bad. Until I bit into a pear that I bought from there. Are you kidding me?! It tasted like styrofoam!! They didn't have much selection on organic fruits and veggies, but I didn't think it would be THAT big of a difference. Even the non-organic fruit and veggies from Trader Joes taste.. natural!! I don't know what the deal was with this freakin pear, but there was something definitely NOT natural about it. Pears are soft, and juicy, and bruise easily. The juice is supposed to run down your chin!! This was like.. styrofoam!! Needless to say, this experience further strengthened my love for Trader Joe's.

Continuing with the theme of this blog, I want to relfect on my ideals and actions of truth over the last five years. I reached a point of relative enlightenment in my life about six years ago. I came to a sort of breaking point, and was assisted by the universe into drastic change that essentially elevated me to a new plateau of physical, emotional and spiritual well being. With the help of three books: Conversations with God (v.1,2,3), I shifted my entire self to a .. pardon the Josh Wink reference.. higher state of consciousness. I stopped eating meat, stopped smoking, ended my careless self-destructive behaivor with synthetic substances, stopped feeling bad for not embracing Christianity and started my intimate relationship with the God I continue to know. Don't get me wrong, this wasn't an overnight change that has remained fully in tact to this day.. that would be way too boring.. but it was a significant turning point in my life.. A spiritual awakening. I've started and stopped smoking many times since then, I've put harmful feel-goods into my body, and I eat meat.. But the state of mind in which I do these things is like night and day.. Let me explain. The smoking is just hard, the naughty feel-goods have been a handful of time in so many years, and I eat fish and occasionally chicken which is strictly organic and humanly raised (I am not healthy as a vegetarian)
I came to know the God within me. I came to be aware of my power in the universe over my life. I came to realize the fact that I am in control, everything in my life is brought on by my request, and nothing can upset the higher consciousness we lovingly call God. And although I struggle to remember this, I know it to be true. And having that sense of spiritual and mental foundation helps me stop worrying and be myself. Helps me do this- for it is a constant struggle. But such is the life as a human.
What was I talking about? Oh yes- the last 5 years.
After the spiritual high I reached in the summer ot 1998- I still had a long way to go.. and still do. So many things to touch on- This just began my journey of self discovery. But what I want to stick with, is the ideal of truth. Living the truth, Speaking the truth, at all times being a faithful warrior of the truth. I say warrior, b/c that's what it takes to live the truth in a time of such accepted deception. One of the biggest things I learned that summer was 'any diversion from truth in your life is a diversion from yourself and God.' This has ultimately guided my life since then. Through all the depths of social menace, sexual exploration, and pure unadulturated debauchery, I have kept the light of truth ahead of me. Always telling the truth, no matter what- and keeping in touch with the compass of truth in my heart to guide my life.. It has led me to some incredible experiences- which at times caused me to fall, but ultimately made me smarter, stronger and wiser.
So.. Lately, I've reflected on this ideal, or the diminishing of actions according to this ideal over the last few years. I think it has something to do with moving to Los Angeles. While my practical knowledge of the world have grown, my addiction to telling the truth has fallen. The decline of my idealology is parrallel to a rise in deception.. This troubles me. I am still big on telling people what's what- and I largely do. But I've noticed myself stretching the truth- bending it.. even hiding it. Especially while conducting business. I believe, however, that this is within my process of learning and growth (Can't know light unless you know dark). Deception is a large part of the entertainment business. "Hello, He Lied" by producer Linda O'bst was my first official introduction to life in Hollywood. I am reminded of a discussion I had with my parents on the morality of this town shortly before I arrived. I said "You can play the game without stooping to that level". I still believe this is true. I think I am learning how to play the 'game', which I can later mold into how I want to play it. I largely tell the truth, and have gotten rather skilled at speaking the truth while diverting attention within a conversation away from what I do not want the other person to know. But I have noticed that I sometime cross the line. I catch myself lying. Nothing big, but it still bothers me. And more-so in social relationships; specifically, not revealing the truth about a friend when cornered for information. That sticks out the most in my mind. Someone, a spouse of a friend, or just friend of a friend, cornering me for information about a person we both know. Me revealing this information would betray my friendship with the other person. But not revaling it, or claiming ignorance of the situation, betray's myself. This is something I have yet to master. I believe I know the answer, "A person hiding the truth is betraying themselves; and me revealing that truth for them is not betraying them, but helping them come closer to embracing the truth in their own life".. Easier said than done, but as always, I'm working on it. It's the whole favoritism of friends things- and not wanting to make a favorite look bad to a.. less-than-favorite.. is usually how the situation goes.
In my defense, I excerised my right to truth this morning in a heroic display!! Ok, maybe not heroic. but a small simbolic victory. Without going into too many excrutiating details, I was booked on a television show for today. My 'agent' kind of booked me without my final consent. (It's all extra/background work. He called yesterday for my availabilty, I said I'd call him back, but he 'accidently' booked me before I did) So.. the only real potential problem I had with today was I have to be back in Hollywood by 7:30. I told him this on the phone, and he told me to 'get sick' at 6:30. I considered this option. It is something I might do after living in Los Angeles for three years. But then I remembered my recent contemplation of the gradual decrease in my actions reflecting my ideal of truth. So I decided against it. I told the Assitant Director of my conflict, and was given an unsure answer as whether or not I could leave at 6:30. I tried to subtley figure out if he was going to let me leave and still get paid, even if shooting wasn't over, but I couldn't get a sure answer. I took off from my day job, where I would miss a 'required' meeting, and would make about $30 less for the day... I considered my options... and the risk of not getting paid at all for my day... and decided to bail from the tv show and work my day job. The A.D. commended me for being upfront and I was on my way. I worked production for several years, and I know how hard your day is, and how annoying talent leaving early can be. So instead of opting for the less than honest way out, I stood up tall, and here I am, at my day job, typing this thing. :)

If you made it to hear, congratulations! You've earned the opportunity to continue reading about much more juicy, tangable and emotional ramblings... Kind of like the extra snippets they sometimes put after the credits of a movie.

I had the original idea to start the pear story yesterday, but it was just too uninteresting to stand alone. And I had been thinking about the truth thing a little lately. Then something triggered this blog last night. But, I had to begin with the other things first, in order to shield the revalation of my inner feelings from the happen-stance reader.

So my feelings got really hurt last night.. by something that didn't even happen. It was all in my mind. But it made me think about where I am, what I'm feeling, the emotional shield I have built around my heart and how I'm still a sensative 9-year old boy. (Hence, waiting this long in the blog to start on what triggered it).

I don't even know where to begin with this, or what to say, because I am rather unsure about the whole thing. I met someone a few weeks ago, who I couldn't help but fall for. I get very crushy, and am very passionate when it comes to love. This has led to many relationships starting too fast, and falling painfully hard. Over time, I have learned to slow down and be more careful with other people's hearts, as well as my own. But I cannot change my nature of passion. So.. I met this person on a job, a commercial film shoot a good friend of mine produced. This gave me a nice cushion of time to be around her alot and not activally step into the rhelms of attraction. We worked rather closely over the course of a week or so, I would catch myself staring at her. And being drawn to her. It was apparent to me these feelings were mutual because many times I caught her staring at me as well.. And an occasional glint passing her eyes...
The job ended, and I told her I liked her. She acted a bit surprised, and said she hadn't noticed any thing between us. I don't know for sure if this was a game, or the truth.. maybe a bit of both.. but she eventually said she did like me, but didn't want to start anything and risk losing me as a friend. This struck me hard, b/c my last relationship started with the same words: though I'm still friends with my latest ex, it seemed to be some kind of sign.. "Ok" I said, fair enough. We agreed to get to know each other better, and see what happens. It's hard to stay just friends with someone you like. I'm super passionate, and she is as well. The tendancy is to throw up your hands and make-out, but were both protective of our hearts. Is this good? I suppose. I don't know. I've been praying a lot about it. Asking for guidence, wisdom. She has said things that made me think it wouldnt work out, but I don't know if these are real feelings, or just fear driven excuses I'm formulating in this head of mine. I have a very high standard for girls I see. The very highest for the girl I will eventually stay with. And this girl is up there. A lot like me- Been through many of the same things. We share a certain fun-loving, trouble-maker quality, but also share an offsetting sensative-natured/good-hearted/dont-hurt-anyone outlook on life. I can't decipher what will happen with this on my own, so must resort to the higher power to guide me through. Thank God for that! To complicate things even more- there is someone I have never been able to get out of my mind. Someone so far away, but who still competes with the permanant spot in my heart. I have no idea what will happen, or if she has any significant inkling towards me, but I think of her often too.. It's a bit more abstract, since I have seen her only twice, the last time over a year ago, but she's there. I hold even less control of that situation than any other romantic endeavor.
But this girl.. from last night.. and the last few weeks.. I can't help but think of her.. and I want to call her. This could be the new crush thing that happens, or not.. I don't know if there's another way to know for sure besides waiting it out. I've been trying to stay as neutral as I can, or least convince myself I am doing so. But last night my stiff exterior was knocked down.. We hung out for most of the day yesterday in the office- kind of working, but not really. We later went to dinner with my good friend, the producer, and the cinematographer. It was a great time. We all get along very well. I was trying not to think about being so fn attracted to this girl sitting next to me, and enjoy the evening. I thought I was doing a good job. To make a long story.. not soooo long, the night ended with me driving out of the parking lot and seeing my good friend and the girl talking from their cars. They both drove off very quickly, and I thought they went off to.. well, I didn' t want to speculate exactly, or even think about it.. but you get the picture. I felt so betrayed. and hurt. I was sooo mad at both of them!!! Not that there was anything substantial between me and her, for them to so carelessly hook-up right in front of me really upset me.
Granted, it didn't really happen. My friend called me later to ask me the location of a bar he was trying to find. I asked him if she was with him, and what I thought happened- and it turned out nothing did. He asked her to go out to another bar with him and the cinematographer, and she went home. But it exposed a part of myself I was trying not to aknowledge. The fact that I can't completely control my feelings, and that I really like this girl, despite the fact that I don't know how long it will last. So.. in short.. my feelings are still capable of being hurt.. I guess that's a good reminder I am still human.

That's it. I think I've rambled on enough. Hopefully nobody is actually reading this. I'll pretend nobody is. And to further prevent anyone from accidently falling upon the above words, I will now bring things back to the subject of the pear from Ralphs. Yes, I've been talking about the pear from Ralph's for a good 8 pages. It's damn important! Pears are suppossed to be juicy! Not styrofoam! I don't know what they do to grow a styrofoam pear, but I don't want any! While Ralphs may be making efforts to cater to the health nuts of Southern California, it does not hold the same friendly aura of the home-felt independantly owned Trader Joes!!! I love Trader Joes, their pears are juicy!

New Blog

I am impressed you actually made it this far. These blog things seem so odd to me, an online journal for all to see- with an ingrained sense of shameless self promotion. I don't read other peoples blog really, just my own. I get very bored reading about 'i did this.. blah blah.. i did that.. blah blah.. life on the road.. blah blah blah.." So naturally I don't expect anyone to read mine. I suppose it's just for me... and for the hint of ego-boosting possibility that someone else in this world gives a shit about this sensless rambling...

I've started this thing with a few entries on an already, not-so-public blog. And we'll go from there.

My Lunch Hour

It began as any other Santa Monica lunch hour. I sat in the Park across from the beach, ate a sandwich and read a book. Two O'Clock came way to soon. I packed up my things and walked back up Broadway towards my office on 5th Street. There are a lot of homeless people in Santa Monica. I don't mind them too much, as long as they don't bug me too much. I've stopped feeling bad about not giving them money, though I will never stop feeling bad for them.. But money doesn't help. So anyway.As I'm making my way up the sidewalk, and people are walking around everywhere, I look across the street... I see a homeless man with his hands on a bicycle thats locked up, and a woman stuffing BOLT CUTTERS in his oversized backpack. Seems odd, yes? That's what I thought.. My nature is to generally not draw conclusions quickly to any situation. And I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt when it comes to their innocence or guilt.. (This is a nuisance sometimes, but is probably better than the opposite.) So I'm standing there, watching this lady zip up the man's backpack across the street, wondering exactly what they are doing. Then I see the homeless man PULL the bike away from the post, unwrapping it from the nylon-covered coily bike lock. Ok.. I thought.. He didn't unlock anything, he just stole that bike.. Not something you see everyday.I continue walking, reach the corner and cross the street towards him. He continues down Broadway, walking slowly with his new bike. I inconspicuosly pass him on the cross walk, but keep a watchful eye of his position in my periferal vision while I look around for a police officer. COP CARS! Down 2nd Street! I walk towards the cruisers while still keeping an eye behind me on where the criminal homeless man and his girl friend walk. They clear the corner and I run to the cruisers that are parked outside a Police Sub-Station (hmm. I never knew it was there). I walk in and report the incident to the desk clerk who writes the details down on the newspaper he is reading. I quickly exit, knowing that's all I can do there, and also knowing it will be very difficult for the police to locate a homeless guy in Santa Monica with a bicycle.. especially if he made it to the densly populated Third Street Promenade.. needle in a haystack.. Since I know what he looks like, I am the best person to locate him. And while I would probably have been content with my effort so far, I wanted to make sure I do not let this guy get away with someone elses bike if I can help it. I don't spot him down the sidewalk on the Broadway; I was in the substation for one minute, maybe two. And the guy was walking pretty slow (attempting not to appear suspicious, I gather) so he couldn't be far. I stop at the Third Street Promanade and look through the swarming crowd. No.. No.. I start walking on.. though still looking.. No.. N- wait.. Step back a step.. There!! That's him.. about fifty yards down, walking smack through the middle of the Promendade. I follow him. There's cops everywhere in Santa Monica, I knew it wouldn't take long to find one. I am briskly closing the gap when I spot an officer. I approach him and see he is a Fire Department Officer. "Damn!", I thought, but I spit out what happened anyway. I pointed out the culprit with the bike, and the Fire Officer quickly approached him and stepped in front of him to interrogate. I didn't know if I should hang around but remain anonymous, go back to work or what.. I walk casually towards them, and watch for some kind of sign from the Fire Officer as to what I should do. We make eye contact and he asks me "Is this who you saw?". "Yes, sir" I said, "that's him". I walked to them, stood next to the officer and looked the homless man in the eyes. Oh, the resentment that he shot me.. but it didn't bother me at all. I have sympathy for his situation, but it gives him no right to steal someone's property.. and his arrogent attitude, and stealing a bike with boltcutters in broad daylight in front of hundreds of people- I had no remorse making sure this guy goes to jail. The Fire Officer called on his cell phone for the Police while the Homeless Man came up with a string of lies excusing his crime.. "This guy sold it to me, he lost the key to the lock and told me to to cut it" .. and referring to his shirt reading "LAPD": "I'm a cop." "You're a cop?" the fire officer asked. "Yeah, I'm under cover", he replied. "Where's your badge?" "I don't have one" riiiiight..
Then the homeless man decided he didn't want to wait around to get hauled off, so he left the bike and walked away. The Fire Officer followed him but obviously could not detain him, as he tried to stop him with words and called again on his cell phone. They walk away and down the sidewalk of Santa Monica Boulevard.. And there I am.. Standing next to the stolen bike.. I can't follow them, someone is sure to walk away with an unnattended bicycle on the Promenade. So I wait.. Someone will come back.. three minutes pass, maybe.. I walk to the sidewalk to see if I can spot the homeless couple or the Fire Officer. Nope. Hmm.. Then a Bicycle Officer comes down the Promenade. "Guy that stole a bicycle? He went that way", as I pointed down the sidewalk. I wait another few minutes, thinking what I should do. I finally decide to take the stolen bike back to the sub-station and go back to work. On my way, I see the same Bicycle Officer approaching and I wave her down. "Is that the stolen bike?" she says. "Yeah. Did you find him?" "No, I followed the directions the Fireman gave me down an alley but he was gone." "Huh.. Well I was going to walk this back to the station." "Yeah, I'll go with you" .. We chat a little about the homeless man chase, and the growing problem of stolen bikes from the area. We get to the sub-station "I'm back!" I announce to the desk clerk who's eyes get big when I walk in the bike. As the Bicycle Officer took down my info, we hear the progress of the chase on the radio. The Homeless Man ditched the backpack, the girl, and they found him in a dumpster. They had to threaten him with mace to get him out.Another Officer pulled up in a Cruiser, came in and asked me to come with him to identify the suspect, and to show him the cut lock the bike was taken from. "Absolutely" I said. He made me get in the back of the Cruiser. Hard plastic seats, and no leg room. But whatever, situation could have been worse in the back of a police car.
I take him to the bike pole; we have to wait for an officer to arrive with a digital camera. I thought about calling my mom and telling her I'm in the back of a Police car, but decided to take the few minutes to read more on my book: "The Seekers, A Bounty Hunters Story" I guess reading about a bounty hunter chasing down fleeing criminals inspired me to catch a culprit. wuhahaha!!!
The officer drove me to the Police Station where they took the homeless man out of another car in cuffs. "Is that him?" the Officer asked. "Yup, that's him" VROOM!! Back to the sub-station. I was beginning to wonder how long this was going to last. While not in a huge rush to get back to work, it had been another hour since I first started back from lunch.
But that was it. They gave me a business card with the case number and the Officer to avoid any doubt while explaining my two hour lunch and I went on my way.
I felt damn good. It didn't make me happy that I sent someone to jail, but I was glad that I stopped a crime from going unsolved, as minor of a crime that is was. But my true satisfaction comes from thinking about the person who walks out to the pole where their bike used to be, walks in to the sub-station around the corner, discouraged, knowing they probably won't get their bike back, and have the desk clerk say, "Ah yes, we have it. A strikingly hansom man saw it being stolen and helped us catch the guy and retrieve your bike. Here you go."
It was a good lunch.

A weekend of driving

My sore throat and congested lungs are an annoying reminder of my weekend. Not that my weekend was annoying; on the contrary, it was quite nice. But I'm feeling the two packs of cigarettes, game of sleep catch-up, and 24 hours of driving within a 55 hour period.I started Friday afternoon by leaving work at 3pm. Deposited my paycheck, hit Rite-Aid for smokes and cokes, grabbed my pre-packed bag from my apartment, and hit the road. I stopped for an oil change and entered the on-ramp to the 134.. traffic.. it would stay this way for a couple hours. Fast.. slow..stop.. and so on.. The 134 turned into the 210, and finally hit the 15N to Las Vegas. Traffic continued to be intermittenly shitty, but opened up about 100 miles outside of LA. I poured my 2nd large jack and coke in my travel coffee mug and stopped to pee in the desert. There's something about pulling off on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere and peeing in the sand. Moon, stars, pee..So anyway.I made it to Las Vegas around 11pm. I was meeting friends downtown- but I had never been downtown. So the combination of 2 large jack and cokes and lack of specific directions led me to arrive downtown around midnight. I was meeting my closest friends from Dallas at Fitzgeralds. They had suprised Matt for his birthday with a weekend in Vegas. He didn't realize what was going on until they were walking through the gate at DFW airport.I was in contact via cellphone with Mark, and arrived in the casino. I was met by Clarence and was informed that Matt had no idea I was coming. I followed Clarence to where Matt, Mark and Jason were standing, waited for the opportune moment when Matt could not see me coming, and SLAMMED my shoulder in his back!! 'Oh, excuse me' I said and walked a few steps away. I changed my course to walk right next to Matt, who's faced away from me. I could only imagine his irrate face as I watched Mark, Jason and Clarence smile with anticipation for Matt to turn back around and see me. He finally did, and his eyes shot open and a smile widened over is face. 'Holy shit!!' he says. WITH MY BOYS IN VEGAS!!!!We drank, gambled, and caroused around. No crazy stories on this trip, but had a COMPLETE blast. Drunk as fuck at 6 a.m. and Madison ate the biggest hamburger he's ever seen. The whole thing, gone. It was amazing. (for those of you who don't know, I don't eat much meat at all.. no pork, no beef.. fish is cool, and chicken about once every week or two..) What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.. (actually, I think it ended up in a gas station bathroom somewhere in Death Valley.. but moving on)We hit the hotel room and slept for a few hours. I was in a bed to begin with but ended up on the floor by the door because the sounds coming from the nose and mouth of Clarence where quite intolerable.The boys were staying until 11pm Saturday night, but I had to leave at noon. I was to drive to Palo Alto, just outside of San Francisco, a nine hour drive. Bluh. I finally got out of Vegas around two, and stopped at a motel for the night at 9. I was a bit worried my credit card wouldnt work and I would be sleeping in my car, but luckily, thankfully, it worked and I got a shower and a bed.. and some privacy!! which was nice, because even that can be hard to come by in Hollywood. I slept for a good 11 hours and made the last hour or so leg of the trip to Palo Alto going about 100mph.It was a long drive but worth it. My great aunt Carmen died a week or so ago. There was no funeral. She is to be cremated, and Sunday, officially, was a Celebration of her Life. She was an amazing woman. My grandfathers sister, and although I never got to know her very well, I can say from the few times I saw her, and all the stories I've heard, she was quite incredible. The gathering was at Carmen and Bill's house in Palo Alto, which was filled with family and friends. Many of which I have just come to know in the last few years, and have only seen a handful of times. It has been nice to get to know some of my more distant relatives. So, after food, beverage, and visiting a few hours with my second cousins and aunts and uncles, its time to hit the road again. Luckily this leg would have a second passenger. My cousin Rachel and her husband Paul live in Santa Monica, and had been there all weekend. Rachel was staying another week with their 4 year old Cole, but Paul had to go back to work. I get along well with Rachel and Paul, and though I enjoy solo road trips, I welcomed the company. Hauling ass as much as other cars would allow, and stopping as little as possible, we arrived in Santa Monica at 9pm. Luckily Paul payed for gas on the way down and filled up my tank again before I dropped him off. I don't know how much more my debit card can take. He didnt have to buy a plane ticket back, and I get gas for the week. That worked out nicely.I hit Hollywood before ten, and don't really remember going to sleep.. or if I took a shower.. or.. well, whatever.. I was dazed.I do remember, however, having a strange dream and waking myself up by punching the wall.I was in a car with a girl, I don't remember who it was.. and we had driven to Denton (Tx) so she could pick up something from a friend..or something.. before we ate lunch.. back in Dallas (45min drive) She went inside and suddenly it's night, and it's raining, and there's a homeless man riding his bike in circles around the car. So I start barking at him.. RAAAAR!!!!! The girl comes back and she's dripping wet. Somehow we began talking to the homeless man and he is in the car.. (the girls driving, me in the back, and homeless man in the passenger seat) and there was a moment of sympathy.. because it was raining.. So I say 'we'll drop you off somewhere' he says 'ok, go here'.. pretty soon I realize he's talking shit, and doesn't have anywhere in mind to go.. and starts trying to get money from us.. I tell him to get out of the car, and an arguement starts. Girl starts screaming, homeless man grabs my hand and BITES DOWN!!! So I punched him in the face.. but it was really the wall.. I went back to sleep after that. The end.

How I Stopped Hating Paris Hilton

I was just like all the bitter Paris haters, once. I couldn't stand the bitch. "Rich, hot and dumb.. big deal!!" Trying to project utter non-concern, lauging at the irony of modern day pop culture which can hold someone so lame in such high esteems. Bitching, moaning, and making fun of her lack of talent: "Why is she in the spotlight?? I'm way more talented than her, but I'm working for my recognition!! That's true success!" Hating her for her life while glued to every second she appears on Celebrity Uncensored.. I admit.. I was a Paris hater..Then a funny thing occured.In the midst of my at-the-time-unaware hypocritic state of loathing, after posting some anti-paris energy on an addicting yet slippery self-slanting website, I went to sleep. And while going to sleep is a rather routine excercise, this nights sleep would hold as a turning point in my kharmic state of mind.I had a dream.. A gift from the heavens.. I was in need of reform.. enlightenment.. my angst was effecting my happiness.. And the universe heard my subconscious pleas and answered accordingly.In my dream, I was walking with two old friends I haven't seen in a very long time.. Such are dreams.. and we walked up to a white house in a college-type neighborhood. An older house, probably rented, with large trees in the yard, and years of vegetation around the beds surrounding the house. Not overtaking, but flourishing.We walked up the steps and opened the green door. Directly inside the door is a couch, resting against a wall that serves as the base of a staircase. Tables, Lamps, etc. Other people mingle throughout, a thin haze of smoke completes the atmospere. But what transfixed me was who was on the couch.. You should be able to deduct this by now.. That right.. Paris Hilton.. Sitting on the couch, laughing and talking with a girlfriend. "Hi!" she says with a big smile and friendly wave.My friends disappear, and I sit on the couch with Paris and her friend. 'Hanging with Paris was the climax of this dream. No green tinted sex, No drunken Hollywood extraveganzas, just hanging.. with Paris. It was simple, and sweet. Casual, and refreshing..When I awoken, I was overwhelmed by the sense of relief that had come over me. I felt an incredible weight had been lifted, like when sinners turn over their life to the lord. It felt as if a great strain on my conscious had been removed, and disspeared without a trace. It was incredible. Just the night before, I was consumed with meaningless stress and angst. But all that was gone now. And was effectively replaced with a very solid, new found admiration for Ms. Hilton. I'M A PARIS FAN!!"Wow!", I thought, "I feel great!" Of course I did! Hate is not a healty thing to have. Especially for someone you don't even know! The media has created an image of Paris which only those who know her can confirm or deny. It's so hard to remember that. But by the grace and mercy of our kharmic universe, I was relieved of my unworthy and ill-conceived apathy.I now watch with healthy anticipation as her post internet-porn career unfurls. Starring in the 'House of Wax' remake, and currently filming 'National Lampoon's Pledge This', I am curious to witness her acting ability. And what she can accomplish otherwise. I'm cheering for her. While a lack of practical knowledge might very well be present, her ambition and fun-loving spirit remains. And that is what makes a person likable in my book. If anything, my admiration is a direct counter to the negative press she constantly receives. While I cannot accurately form an opinion of her personality beyond articles and instinct, I can say that I no longer hate Paris Hilton. And that is a good thing.