Sally Grace > Recent Status Updates

I happen to know for an absolute fact that I am as beautiful now as most women ever hope to [be]. I am positive that my position vis-a-vis the world is one to be envied. That I don't have to go our being a secretary for the rest of my life…generous & warm women, is something i never take for granted…when I walk into a roomful of my friends, they let me feel their admiration, just as I show them mine.

What I care about is being left alone by people who want to make life an ordeal and perpetuate illusions of misery. What I want to do is write this book, get better, be nice to people, and just get along in what probably must seem like a mindless kind of joy and igno-rance, but nevertheless, that's what I want and that's what I'm going to have. Life is too short and too fragile to abuse it

I have been beset by emotional mismanagement, and for about half an hour this week, I actually doubted my intrinsic ability to totally know everything better than anyone else, which just killed me.

(Wrong page number)

I am being patient with a vengeance. It is not the sort of occupation I am used to nor is it one of my strong points but, if you want me to, 'll just do it. How long? I'm sorry-I’ll be patient - I’ll keep my pants on, as they say.

I started to tell you about last night, which was very dull, & I come out with libel and gossip and everything else, including a ruthlessness I don't really feel about things.
That I've even gotten this far in my life is due to fantastic friendships and people who care about me much more than I deserve-who got up in the middle of the night when I was crazy & who told me I was great when I thought I was not anything.

I get to get dressed up and I Airt outrageously and put people on and I do things like look soulfully out the window and man its just too hoozie for words. It's great!
…

And the other boy is one I've reduced to a quivering mass of anxiety. Tha'seven better. Nothing like a quivering mass of anxiery around to do worlds for one’s ego…
If only all of this could last forever-not that it will, but I can.

I thought, Why would I be anywhere else but here? Making a movie during the day, hanging out hearing stories at night.

Sometimes we would be riding around, & I would look out the window & see something beautiful, such as a full moon, or something sad, such as the town drunk sleeping in the snow; or I'd hear a sad song that reminded me of a boy I liked, but I knew I could never share things like that. I’d be laughed out of the car...I wasn't going to do anything about it. I wasn't going to change anything, but it made me self-aware.

And even though I was not Curt, and not Richard Dreyfuss, foy the first time, I saw myself in a movie, which is one of the greatest gifts a movie can give us. To see ourselves in those forty-foot images.

I was in New York after a big life change. I was feeling a little down, and I decided to go see a psychic. Men go to prostitutes for comfort. Women go to psychics!

A show is a show is a show. All that was left of it were the echoes of the applause. If you could somehow keep that sound, that joy, to remind you of why you were put on the planet. To entertain people. To make them happy just for a little while. I listened to Rudy Vallée's applause and then quietly excused myself.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked.
I listened again very hard but all I heard was a rushing, whooshing sound. I finally said, "Is it the ocean?"
He spun around from the mirror and raised his hand in the air with a flourish.
"It's my applause," he said.
"Oh yes," I said. "Yes, now I hear it."
Rudy Vallée smiled at me with complete satisfaction. "I tape it every night," he said. "I knew you would appreciate that."

She's making out with her date, and getting pretty hot and heavy, and we're holding back tears in the back! Two completely different cinematic experiences.

And Dennis Hopper said, "Don't cry. You're going to be OK." And I said, "No, I'm crying because my father saw Easy Rider when I was a kid and it changed his life and now we're in a movie together and it's a miracle!"

It was inevitable that with the impact that Dennis Hopper had had on making my life like a movie, I would return the favor by being in a movie with Dennis Hopper. It was called Search and Destroyhow appropriate. Once he was cast—Dennis Hopper playing my father-figure lover-I couldn't wait to meet him, tell him how he'd ruined my life, and ask for all the money I believed that he owed me.

My mother seemed to enjoy being poor. Maybe it finally gave her an identity. It was hard to compete with being married to Dennis Hopper, who was busy writing poetry and songs and assembling his band.

The greatest compliment I can give myself or anyone reading this is to say, You are the star of your own movie. You are surrounded by an amazing set of characters with a story that only you can tell. Now, you may not think it's the healthiest thing in the world to live your life as if it were a movie, but somehow it has worked for me, with Dennis Hopper and many other movie gods to blame for every glorious moment.

“Well, a piece of my childhood just died." She was sobbing. "Time Machine," she cried, "and it wasn't even that good!"
"But it was good," I said. "It was good because you remembered it."
That's how movies change us: in ways we cannot even remember. Those images of movies stay in our brain; those fragments become shards in our memories.

“My father was dead, my mother was dead, I would need for a while to watch for mines, but I would still get up in the morning and send out the laundry.
I would still plan a menu for Easter lunch.
I would still remember to renew my passport.”

I would still go to Miami.

I loved it more than anything I've ever done before or since because deep down inside every woman is a waitress. The act of waitressing is a solace, it's got everything you could ask for—confusion, panic, humility, and food.

In France, they more or less lay their cards on the table and ennoble love affairs for the creative adventures they are, because for most people, these are the only creative adventures they'll ever have. The only chance they'l ever get to touch the face of heaven.

Poor Shawn thinks he likes silver rooms and gay Southern adventures when he really likes to lie in the sand.

You know, when you come to think about it, it's a wonder women have anything to do with men at all, and no surprise that men have devised all kinds of schemes to bind women to them, like not giving them any money. If you had your choice of sleeping with a beautiful soft creature or a large hard one, which would you pick? I mean, if they both had the same amount of money?

Bottom of this page… “you know when you have dinner with a girlfriend, you’re going to come home a whole human being”

People nowadays get upset at the idea of being in love with a city, especially Los Angeles. People think you should be in love with other people or your work or justice. I've been in love with people and ideas in several cities and learned that the lovers I've loved and the ideas I've embraced depended on where I was, how cold it was, and what I had to do to be able to stand it.

"You be the man and that way you get to be the shit." I had a sudden transplant of sense as I imagined myself "the man" and just how creepy I bet I could be: dodging emotional entanglements and lying and otherwise having a lovely time. Forgetting to phone.

As I made my way home, I felt very old, but when I looked at the tip of my nose I could see fine misty beads, but looking cross-eyed made me dizzy so I quit. As I made my way home, I thought what a thing to tell Jem tomorrow. He'd be so mad he missed it he wouldn't speak to me for days. As I made my way home, I thought Jem & I would get grown but there wasn't much else left for us to learn, except possibly algebra.

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AND 160!!!!!!!!!!!!