Scientology works for me!

Voyaged into Hollywood this evening - reminds me that I live in LA LA Land. With all the trees and nice stuff here in the valley, I sometimes forget the odd spiritual insanity that is Hollywood Boulevard.

Was there for KO's bridal shower. We had to play games (sorry H, since you organized the games), such as the 'who am I?' index-card- with-a-name-taped-on-your-back celebrity game. After about 2 hours I finally figured out I was Katie Holmes. I am shocked and appalled.

We also went around the table and each had to give a reason why we were grateful for KO. A lovely sentiment, but really not appropriate outside of Thanksgiving. And I didn't even like to do it then, since everyone always says they're grateful for 'family being together' since all our brains are too overwhelmed mentally and literally salivating over the Turkey that's sitting there just within reach, but guarded over by 112 year-old Great-Grandma who wants to be thankful and pray first. I'm partial to the classic: "Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub, Yeeeaaaaah God! "

Met some old friends, and made new. Old friend J, my first 'gay date' - (think Will & Grace) Antiques dealer in his 60s, D celebrity actress, B different celebrity's niece who pole-dances, marketing execs, and more antique people. One offered to take my script to Castle Rock, so that makes for a GREAT evening in my book.

Then came the belly dancers.

We paid them with dollars like strippers. It was uncouth, and yet appropriate at the same time. And they had bellies. Which is new for me - all other belly dancers I've seen were pretty slim, so to see a undulating beer belly was different, if not mind-blowing. I barely kept my cous cous down while my gay-date belly danced hysterically.

Got out of there without belly or pole-dancing myself, and drove through Hollywood. Late night in Hollywood reminds me I live in a tourist destination. Where did all these people come from, and why are they walking the streets at midnight? Times Square is less busy. They all were in white t-shirts and shorts, something no native LA peep would be caught dead in, so clearly all from Bangladesh or Gary, Indiana. I put on some music for the long wait driving on Hollywood Boulevard - Gnarles Barkely and Gary Glitter seemed to be the right combination.

As I turned onto Highland, there was a sight to behold - punk pirates and wenches, along with a few wood nymphs, and an apparent Johnny Rotten conversing animatedly with a teetering drunk Jack Sparrow. Just hanging out in front of the Gap. It kind of made me want to shop at the Gap. They weren't those pretend Hollywood Spiderman, Superman, Marilyn dress ups that clog Grauman's so much that nobody actually wants to see a movie there. No - these were just regular guys out for a night on the town dressed as pirates. Cheryl and I saw some 'swing pirates' at the Derby, but I thought that was just because it was opening weekend. Seems its a trend.

As I continued past into the Hollywood hills, I remembered when I first moved here. When Hollywood Boulevard pole-dancers and pirates freaked me out, and I wouldn't have gotten out of my car. My first solo day in LA I went to Paramount Studios, and I started to cry because of the scary neighborhood, I later ended up living in that neighborhood, and working at Paramount. Life's funny like that.

So in true LA fashion, as I drove past Universal on my last leg home, I flipped them off for stringing me along and not buying my script that I worked on with them for a year. Seems only fitting.

After all, with gay antique dealers and pole-dancing celebrity nieces on my side, I can hardly go wrong.