My sex life is certainly NOT like the movies, . . . I just wish it was ~ Lucky Lopez

Blog #11: Reality Stars, Lawyers, and Cancer Sticks

Day 132:  No Sex

So if you have missed me, I am thoroughly sorry for not having blogged sooner.

Life has been somewhat chaotic, however please do accept my apologies while I (admittedly) marvel and grovel in the fact that I have actually been missed . . .

Being missed is quite an important and underrated form of affection you know . . .

It is that appreciated affirmation that your existence on earth is not entirely and completely in vain.

I know a few of you have actually become dedicated “Pink Dialogue” readers.

I could never articulate how much I appreciate that.

I never thought in a million, trillion years that anyone would give a rat’s ass about my in-the-bedroom misfortunes and my completely misguided dating efforts in a city where a “+ 1″ is plus extraordinary.

Honestly, I have found this form of verbal purging quite cathartic and surprisingly healing.

Although I must admit that my online journaling efforts were initially self-serving, I am honored that anyone in the world has even been slightly entertained or even better – humored at my (entirely willing) expense.

. . .

When we last parted “virtual” ways, I was determined to find a new form of passion in my life – one that did not require the assistance of the male anatomy to occur . . .

Sexual activity with my current boyfriend has all but disappeared in the last few months . . .

I have a strong suspicion that we both know our relationship is inevitably over – yet each of us refuses to be the “bad cop” even if it kills us.

Truth is-  there is nothing really “wrong” with our relationship, but yet everything is missing.

I wonder how many American couples suffer from this unfortunate condition . . . a state of being that doesn’t necessarily require critical care – therefore it falls into the “if it aint broke, why fix it?” category.

I know that the fact that the few PG-13 rated thrills I have enjoyed in the last few months have come from a college kid that hasn’t quite graduated from puberty – has only affirmed the reality that I have reached my breaking point in the relationship . . .

Thus I may have to go ahead and bludgeon and beat that old horse to it’s destined death.

But I will cross that flooded bridge next week . . .

For now, I have put all my eggs in another basket  . . . my first true love . . .

In lieu of the ground-breaking decision to find passion elsewhere – I am now in the midst of birthing my second official screenplay.

Why screenplay, you ask?

Because the reality is, (in case you haven’t noticed) although I am a law professional by day, I am and have always been a lover of all things written at night.

I know I don’t mention my personal life much aside from anything that falls in the realm of the relationship, sex, and penis department . . .

But let’s be real – after love and sex, what else is there?

The truth is:

I don’t want to open yet another can of worms that essentially exposes another area of my life that is insatiated . . .

But since you asked, I will indulge . . .

You see, at one point in my life I did subscribe to achieving the coveted, financially stable American Dream – disregarding all potentially wasteful “pie-in-the-sky” aspirations . . .

For that reason – I initially chose a profession very much in alignment with the status quo – being a lawyer.

I knew when I chose this profession, I was muting and repressing my very real and burning desire to write movies.

However at that point in time (in my early twenties), making my parents happy and becoming the family hero/first lawyer seemed far more critically important  . . .

Now here I am six digits in law school loan debt later – still struggling with that “blade of grass” called screenplay writing that is obviously intent on emerging no matter how much I water it . . .

Thus I have become quite good at juggling two professions:  the creative one I love that will never make me a millionaire -

and the logical one that may someday make me a millionaire at the expense of my true happiness and fulfillment.

Note to any aspiring lawyers out there: Think twice and ensure you have no other stubborn and likely broke-inducing career dreams before you agree to accept that six digit loan check – otherwise known as signing away the rest of your life to debt

FOR -E – VUUUUUR.

(From the movie “The Sandlot”)
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I must say however, I do not regret having gone to law school and getting that J.D. because the knowledge and experience I am equipped with is priceless.

I just wish the price tag for having earned it – wasn’t.

But enough about my career woes . . . and on to more important things . . . like reality TV stars.

So although I make my bread and butter with law stuff, I have also dabbled in the entertainment realm for the past 8 years as a producer and writer.

It makes sense of course -

Why else would a 5 foot law-degreed Texan from a small border Texican (Texas/Mexico) town move thousands of miles away to the land where almost anything is possible and almost everything is improbable?

When I first moved to L.A., I had just produced my first screenplay into a feature film and it was about to be distributed nationally -

Due to this minor achievement – I naiively thought I had an “open door” into the business . . .

Little did I know – that open door only lasts for about 3.5 seconds and if another notable achievement does not spontaneously occur within that time frame, the door shuts dramatically like the large iron gates to Oz.

Although my first screenplay was (by a few) considered a “success” I have been pining to write another for the last 4 years.

I have admittedly struggled just as every other waiter by day/writer by night does in Hollywood . . .

By the time you wrap up your extremely exhausting and underpaid day job, the creative juices are painfully whittling and your focus turns to the usual monotany of the day . . .

For that reason, it has been much easier to focus on the typical female 30-something stressors:  relationships and sex – rather than feed my true creative hunger.

However, the most recent sexless hiccup with my boyfriend has forced me to re-shift focus and attend to probably more fruitful desires:

Hence – my second screenplay.

So what does this all have to do with a reality star you ask?

Nothing and everything I suppose . . . but I promise I will get there in a minute . . .

But first some backstory . . .

So I have produced a couple of things here and there – nothing to brag about . . . a few independent films that you have not and probably will never hear of, and a few music videos and commercials that did not have an A-list actor, famous model, or blown-up musician attached as the lead.

Therefore along with a host of absurd and ridiculously unbelievable true no-sex and relationship stories, I have my share of “star”, “wanna-be a star”, and “almost was a star”/celebrity stories that are likewise absurd, ridiculous and unbelievable that I promise to share with you someday.

Sometimes in the midst of these experiences I have found myself feeling somewhat emotionally schizophrenic . . . stuck between the small border town – Texas girl that thought meeting New Kids on the Block at age 12 was a defining moment . . .

and the obviously cynical Los Angelene that is acutely aware that you haven’t “made it” until you have brunch with Steven Speilberg on a weekly basis.

Let me just say . . . in case there was any doubt . . .

I am not there yet.

Such struggle makes for extremely challenging conversations with any far-removed-from-Hollywood loved ones or friends that think that Mario Lopez is “as good as it gets.”

(No offense Mario).

Don’t get me wrong:

Somewhere deep inside, I recognize that to an outsider, the fact that I sat at a table next to Jessica Alba at a waffle house the other day is a big deal . . .

On the other hand, sitting next to Jessica Alba does nothing to increase my cache as a screenplay writer to Hollywood execs . . . but I am working on it.

Okay, so now back to the reality star . . .

So I have a lot of friends in “the business” . . . therefore it is not uncommon to have lunch with anyone of them and us engage in a little actor/celebrity name dropping.

I was having lunch with my friend Mark the other day who is (I must confess) waaaay more connected in the business than I am.

You see – Mark comes from money.

And well, let me just say that people in Hollywood that

1.  have

2.  once had

3.  are gonna have, or

4.  were bequeathed large sums of money by their now unfortunately deceased parents

like to be in each other’s presence  . . .

I think it is a “comfort” thing . . .

Therefore Mark (unlike me) is someone that actually has breakfast with someone like Jessica Alba, instead of somehow randomly and arbitrarily sitting next to her in a Hollywood Waffle House/Cafe.

So . . .

I mentioned to Mark that I was writing my second screenplay . . .

In the conversation he mentioned he had a reality star friend that was looking to break into feature films . . .

“So what else is new?” I thought to myself.

I don’t think I know of any reality stars that have successfully parleyed their real-life TV exploitations and grotesquely gratuitous exposés into a Blockbuster box office career.

Nonetheless, I entertained the idea for a while and Mark and I agreed it wouldn’t hurt to at least meet the guy and see if he was a good fit for the lead role in my work-in-progress screenplay.

Let’s be honest, I don’t have Matt Damon knocking down my door to have me write him into my next feature film, so having anyone with any name recognition is a plus at this point.

So I told Mark I would let him set up the meeting . . . we agreed that a coffee house was best suited for our first “riunione“ so that if the guy turned out to be an egomaniac psycho (which I have little tolerance for), I could escape through the nearest fire exit and never turn back.

Our meeting is set for this Saturday at a smoke-friendly coffee house in Studio City.

In case you didn’t know – these places are rare in Los Angeles . . .

Although most coffee joints allow smoking outdoors, if you happen to visit any of the true tree-hugging/green earth and environment obsessed areas in L.A. and try to light a cancer stick – you will be frowned upon like a New Yorker holding up a grocery aisle for a price check  . . .

Dangerous.

So apparently, allowing carciogenic cigarette smoke was the only requirement for this “reality dude” that I will now refer to as such – because (from what I understand) he smokes like a chimney in Alaska on a “cold” day.

We are set to meet this Saturday, and I must admit, I am looking forward to it.

I wanna find out what this reality TV guy is all about, and if he actually has the acting chops to carry a scene past 5 seconds.

I will give you a report when we next meet here my friends.

Until then . . . try to stay away from cancer sticks,

and eat all your peas and green beans . . . they are good for you.

- Lucky 

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