Because ~I~ have a blog and I don’t keep it current. Granted, I’m over at Miaverse.com, working and editing and posting, but still.

So I’m blogging here to tell you I’m over there. SO go. Don’t walk, run.

I’m also at I’ll Pimp Your Stuff, too. You know, pimping your stuff.

xx M

“I met you at a Twestival and I thought you were really quiet and almost the opposite of how you are on Twitter. What gives?”

And I started to answer there, but it’s such a damn long answer. And it’s pretty personal, so I’d like to keep it on something with my name on it, and not a domain that could potentially own my own words.

Here’s the real deal, really: I really, really, REALLY don’t like those things. My experience in LA so far has taught me one thing that I think is so damn indicative of how life is here. The number one question I’m always asked is “What do you do?” And while to you, it may not sound offensive… to someone who’s been asked it a billion times and knows what the answer will mean, it really is. And I’ll tell you why. Because what they’re really asking is,

“What can you do for me?”

And to further break it down, they’re asking,

- “Do you have money I can somehow gain access to?”

- “Are you famous and can I leech onto that fame?”, and

- “Who do you know that could benefit me?”

So as soon as the person realizes that…

- I don’t really have a lot of wealth

- I’m not famous, and

- I don’t really know anyone that could be of any help

…they end up extricating themselves from the conversation. If I get honest about it, it’s actually funny.

So far, I have yet to meet anyone who was just interested in hanging out with ME for my quirks, and not for my potential connections. The few friends I have out here, I met on Twitter and could build up an actual friendship with them. I know that they like me and don’t care about what I can give them. But then again, that’s not to say that Twitter is devoid of those types of people that only care about friendship when it’s a means to an end. I’ve had to cut ties with several people that think because I’m with someone who’s had some modicum of fame, then maybe I can hook them up.

I guess all of this just really hit me a couple of weeks ago at David’s launch party for his iPhone app.

Her: So what do you do?
Me: I’m a writer.
Her: Really? What show do you write for?
Me: I don’t write for TV – I’m writing a book.
Her: …a book? Like, a book-book? That you read?
Me: Yes, a book-book.
Her: Huh. *walks away*

AND THIS ISN’T A RARE HAPPENING! IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME.

It’s now at the point where I don’t WANT to talk to anyone about my projects because if people are going to walk away from me just for saying “I’m writing a book”, then what the hell are they going to do when I describe the project?

I know if I tell them it’s a potential screenplay, THEN they’ll be interested. But I don’t need fake friends. I’d just really like some real ones.

Here’s the REAL problem, though: I can’t respond to these people how I’d like, because of the Connection Factor. That person could have a connection that could potentially damage David’s career. FOR INSTANCE. There’s someone on the Heroes cast that has just been flat out rude to me every single time I’ve seen them. No reason for the rudeness – they’re just a fucking rude ass person. And me being me, I’d call them on it – at the very least, say “There’s really no need to be rude to me. I haven’t done anything to you.” At the very most, something along the lines of “I’m sure you’re really nice to the people that pay you those nice fat paychecks, but why don’t you try being nice to someone who’s a genuine fan of the show and doesn’t owe you a goddamn penny?”

But I can’t do that because that person can easily go to a Head and say, “Yeah, so you’re getting rid of Doyle, end of discussion.” It’s a position I hate being in. Maybe I’ll get over it or find a good compromise or something, but for right now, it’s hell. It’s like all you can really say to celebs is “I love your _____ – it was awesome!” but even then, the Fiona Apple incident comes into play – basically, in LA as a “commoner”, you can’t win.

So, yes, Formspring Question Asker, I’m quiet at gatherings – for good reason.

Dude, I just like having this option, mmkay?

So, let’s see. What do you not know….

GOING TO DRAGON*CON, BABY – YEAH!

FUCK. YES. Totally can’t wait. It’s gonna fucking ROCK. HARD. I’ve never been but have wanted to go for a long while now. It’s going to be so epic. I’m just debating if I should dress like a supervillain or not. A possible? This Molotov Cocktease number I found on a google search.

Uh, totally kidding. I’d only wear that for D. Sorry, fanboys.

OH! AND! @MissDestructo – who I keep spelling as MissDestruco because my finger doesn’t like that lettering order – is going to go (hopefully) (maybe) (please?)!! It’s going to seriously be awesome, even though I’ll be chained to a table for 5 hours a day with D for his signings. Maybe I’ll do a DC version of my SDCC plan?!?! WHO THE FUCK KNOWS~!

That reminds me, I need to find out if #Mothra or Ryn want to come out to hang…

Since last we spoke, I have lost 5lbs, given up soda and have legally become a “von Doom” – placeholder for my real last name, obvz.

Maybe I should have changed my last name to von Doom. That would be AWESOME. OMFG YES!

Aaaaand back to our show.

I gave up the soda because… quite honestly, I got tired of it. I got sick of being so dependent on “MUST CAN HAS SODA TO START MUH DAY!” and “MUST CAN HAS SODA TO SURVIVE THE DAY!” Fuck that noise, I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want to be dependent on a bunch of chemicals that I can’t even pronounce.

So my only *real* vice, I gave it up. I’ve got roughly one week in the can *ha ha* and I actually feel good. In the last week, I’ve had 3 sodas – which is something I’d have killed partway through one DAY. No headaches, no dizziness, no lurchiness, nothing. I guess I just got to a point where I said fuck this shit, so I did. Sweet tea and water is now where it’s at for me. Be jelis, people. Be jelis.

OH! AND! I’m down 5lbs in the last week. FIVE. Not really changed anything, but I’m eating a little healthier and not eating as much. I’m not as hungry as I thought. Again, maybe it’s just a FTN *fuck that noise* situation. Ideally, I’d like to go down 3 sizes. We’ll see if I can do it. But note: if I start looking bleh, I’m stopping this weight loss crap. I just want to feel better instead of all sluggish, and I want to be able to dance around the house with David without getting winded.

AND! We have a weekly housekeeper. She comes in once a week and heavy-duty cleans everything – well, except our room. I’m a bit too anal for her to touch my shit in there. Anyhoo, she seriously makes me so happy. You has no idea. Absolutely worth the money. It’s not like we go out or spend tons on bullshit, anyway. It’s what you kids today call “clubbin’ fold”.

I just admitted that we don’t go out at all and stay home working, and our “fun” is having a housekeeper clean the condo once a week. Christ, that’s just sad. But you know what? Instead of going out and partying and spending mad cashez on clubs and drinks and clothes to wear to said partying, our cash (and it’s not even a lot, dude) is going to this great woman that cleans the fuck out of our condo. She’s amazingbook, yes she is! /mary murphy

Another thing? I’m in love. Hard, heavy, beautiful, poetic, dreamy, lusty, wondrous, angelic, peaceful, hardcore, hard rocking, brain tsunami’ing love. I love David so damn hard. We just fucking mesh so goddamn well, it’s sick. We hold hands on the street, we link feet in bed as we’re sleeping, he champions for my projects as much as he champions for his own. He makes me so goddamn happy and I’m seriously happy that we found each other.

There. Mushy part of my post is over.

ON THE HORIZON:

Sites, sites, sites! A preachy website! a glamourish website! more blogging! more photo ops! maybe a youtube show! Dragon*Con! COMIC CON! DALLAS! ATLANTA! EASTERN SEABOARD! A DAMN BEACH!

So there you have it. What I’ve been up to, by Mia von Doom. *curtsy*

FOR YOUR THANKS:

A dancing Picard.