* Well we got into NYC yesterday evening, but we didn’t do much other than check into our hotel, the Tribeca Grand. It’s really nice here, focus-grouped to within an inch of its life to be ultra-chic. Today was a nice reception and pricate screening of SG at the Paramount screening room. I met some really super people at the reception beforehand, and then everyone went in to watch the film. I always say I’m not going to watch it again, but I end up sitting down and seeing the whole thing. This time I left before the bad parts at the end. I just couldn’t watch all that again.
* When I was younger and saw the movie “Carrie” for the 1st time, it really blew me away, because there was a plain little girl growing up in a smotheringly religious family who finally learned to be pretty for one night and was destroyed for it. I have wathched the movie a million times and love Sissy Spacek anyway because she was so good as Loretta Lynn (and so good in everything else ever). Flash forward to now: who is at the screening of Soldier’s Girl, but Amy Irving, who played Sue Schnell in Carrie! It was so surreal to have a woman from one of my favorite films as a kid come to life and sit in a theater watching my life story on a movie screen in front of me. Completely bizarre and unreal. She was lovely and kind and she gave me a hug after the movie.
* After all that, Andrea & I, the writer, producers and Lee and some other cool people all went to “Town,” a posh hotel bar. We completely took over their upstairs and had courses of delicious haute cuisine appetizers delivered, and then gourmet desserts, including chocolate and caramel tarts topped with real gold leaf. I got to try on a gorgeous vintage Issey Miyake coat and met some fabulous new friends. We had alot of great conversation and after several hours, Andrea and I went back to our hotel room and crashed.

* (Click the link at the end to see my version of the ad)
* Wow, so I was driving down a certain street here in Hollywood, feeling kinda down for no good reason, and a giant billboard catches my eye on the left…
* It was the billboard for Soldier’s Girl! The name of the movie over a pic of a soldier’s back with green army shirt pulled up to expose a Varga Girl-style tattoo of a sexy brunette. About a million things went through my mind: Oh Lord! Oh no! Wow! What does this mean? (You see, this thing has never stopped being surreal or a punch in the gut from five different directions. I just learn to deal with the feelings better as time goes on.)
* But then I read the tagline: Soldier’s Girl She was the only man he ever loved.
* only man
* Oh no.
* So dear readers, I will give a little recent background by saying that I’ve been worrying these days if I will ever be able to live a normal life with all the coverage of the events of 1999. What if I met a cool guy who completely understood that I am 100% girl, but thanks to this stuff being out there, he wouldn’t want to date me because of what he might suffer if people foind out. Now I know, I know… everyone is going to chorus in and say, “If he can’t deal with it, then he’s not good enough for you anyway!” And in a way that’s true. But you just have to admit that it’s a huge huge burden to lay on someone. “Hey, I’m a great catch, but do you mind facing a side order of namecalling and prejudice if people find out?” There are plenty of other chiquitas around who don’t come with such a heavy history. But I’m decently cool and unique… who knows. Nothing good is easy, etc etc. We’ll see on that one. Anyway, back to the billboard…
* So let me say right upfront that I love Showtime to pieces, and all the people involved with the movie. What has happened here is that someone in their advertising/publicity department majorly screwed up by using very insensitive phraseology in the tagline. A big point of the beautiful movie is that Barry thought of me as a woman. That against all odds, I am a woman. Labelling me as a “man” in the tagline discounts that whole message in the movie, in the interest of making it easier for people to get what the movie is about.
* So the ad department’s dilemma is this: Here is a super complicated movie/concept that we have to sell to people mostly uneducated on the topic. In one single sentence. Using simple words. Hmm…
* Tough job. But that’s why they’re paid the big bucks, so I do have to expect a little accountability here. I call everyone who’s anyone at Showtime and on the film team and, as understandingly as possibly, register my unhappiness with the tagline. Most of the people I call were unfortunately not in on the ad writing process. They spent their creative energies making the movie happen and then the (separate) ad department came in and did their thing. For the most part everyone involved with the movie was horrified and pretty mad.
* At this point, though, it’s too late to do much. There has to be some kind of printed posters and ads up, or people won’t know about and thus see the movie. It’s important to me that people see the movie, because I want them to understand the tragedy of Barry’s murder, and also some issues about my life. Showtime doesn’t have the money to just rip down expensive ads all over everywhere and make new ones. I’d personally like to at least paint over the tagline part, but that’s not feasable either. So here’s what is being done:
* Anything that hasn’t been printed is being changed. The ads in TV Guide, the fliers, the invitations, etc. Everyone has apologized. So if nothing else, this has been a great opportunity to explain and educate some things even to the already enlightened people who made the movie and the movie making community here. The bottom line is this: certain pronouns are never appropriate when describing me or my sisters. Such a simple idea… so hard to get into some people’s heads! le sigh...
* Well, perhaps the tattoo version of me will take matters into her own hands…

* Yay! This week I joined a gym here in LA, finally. I had a Gold’s Gym membership in Nashville, which I used quite a bit because my body was very important as a dancer and performer… back then I was quite toned and in shape, but recently I have not been as comfortable with the old bag-o-bones as I once was. Time to do something about it!
* So the plan I got is pretty good, and they were kind enough to give me a few free sessions with a personal trainer as well. Of course he was totally cute, and of course I am completely professional and “off the market” in dating terms, so it was just good clean fun and sweat… He kept complimenting me, like “You really know how to pick workout clothes that match,” and I would say, “You’re really trying to sell that training package aren’t you?” ha ha. I looked like a librarian housewife in tights most of the time.
* It feels great to be working out again, though. I went on a hike a few weeks ago and got so winded… I was thinking, “Wow, you used to run six miles with a 60 lb pack on your back, and look at you now. Pathetic!” But after only a few days of the gym, it seems like my endurance and stamina are coming back. You know, when I was 18 I weighed 35 lbs less than I do right now. And I am not fat right now! I was a pure string bean, and of course I was a late bloomer without the added curves that now fill me out so well. I wouldn’t want to be that old weight again, because then I would look like a lollipop. Big head on stick body, ha ha.

The seeking of guidance through the chance selection of a passage in literature.
* I found this word while surfing the web trying to discover the etymology of “curate’s egg,” another obscure thing that caught my attention while reading. RHAPSODOMANCY struck me because it describes so perfectly something my little brother and I used to do in church when we were little:
* The sermons lasted around 4 hours each (2 sermons every sunday, one every Wednesday), a very difficult amount of time to sit still for any kid. We had several ways to pass the time: origami, adding things into the scenes in our Children’s Church leaflets with a pen, and although we didn’t know this word for it, we did a lot of rhapsodomancy.
* Jerm and I would take the hymnals and randomly flip open the pages. The title of whatever hymn was revealed would be the “fortune” of the other person. If I opened it to “Are you washed in the Blood?” it would mean that my little brother was going to be involved in a bloodbath sometime soon. Ha ha! I would laugh. (We were super morbid, creepy children… thanks, church!) If he opened it to “We shall see the King,” it meant that he was the king and I was going to have to come beg him for leniency. Or something. We were generally stretching it, grabbing at straws, if you will.
* Wow, so I was a freak even all those years ago. Ha ha, kind of a relief to know I’ve remained consistent.

* My white suit has been stolen! Now I have nothing classy to wear to interviews. =(

* I am so silly sometimes. Ahh… stress… it does get to me, and I don’t feel like I handle it well. As far as people see, I tend to remain self-contained and fairly on-course, but there’s a little me on a treadmill inside my head that really wishes she could sit down for a minute. The thing is, I know if she sat down, she wouldn’t want to get back up, so it’s best just to pace things and see what happens.
* I am, at the same time, very happy about some new developments in my personal life. But I always find with this kind of happiness that it comes hand in hand with the fear that it will go away. Isn’t that crazy? Shouldn’t I just be happy? But I worry. What if. What if. What if not. Silly girl. “We shall see” is one of my favorite self-quotes. We shall, I suppose.

* The most concentrated part of the SG movie stuff is coming up next month. Traveling to Tribeca Film Fest in NYC, and then the premiere here in LA and then on Showtime. There will be press and a few more events, and then it will be over. An agent at Sundance asked me, “Outside of the tragic aspect, are you going to miss the excitement of these film festivals and speaking engagements?”
* NO.
* I can’t wait for it to be over. I’ve always wanted to be a “star,” be famous for my talents and looks and whatever (I admit it! I was a performer for almost 10 years before this, darn it!) but not like this. This has been the most tumultuous four years of my life, the most stressful, the most painful. I always assumed when it was over I would continue on as I was before it all began: as a performer. An actress. A writer. I would maybe become known for my own talents and leave behind the “Soldier’s Girl” thing. But recently I have questioned even that.
* What if I stopped worrying about being in the spotlight? What if I didn’t need a million people saying, “Calpernia, you are cool.” (Which is the secret reason I think most people become actors - one person saying “you’re cool” isn’t enough. They need the whole world to say it.) What if I stopped caring what a million people said, and just listened to one person?