No secret Diablo Cody is a creative inspiration, number one girl crush and who I most want to be when I grow up (although I’m several years older). From her filthy-sexy first memoir, born of a blog, which begat Juno and her little brother Oscar®, I've wanted to breathe in her fire and balls and hutzpah and refusal to wear million dollar encrusted shoes for the red carpet in favor of dime store ballet flats. I want(ed) to be a genuine storyteller too. I am.
She regularly blogs over at MySpace. A recent post read in part:
I hope you're all doing exactly as you desire and tuning out the static. For those who are unsure, static sounds like this:
'It's a very competitive field. You will probably never be (insert goal.)'
'You need something to fall back on.'
'You need to be more realistic.'
'You can't be (blank) and also (blank).'
'You blew your chance.'
and my personal fave,
'You're not talented enough.'"
I’ve not been lucky in love or relationships. Or blessed (yes, I said blessed and I never say blessed, a word that owes too much to chance and hocus pocus) with family not splintered like a wet toothpick chewed past its prime. I’m at best average looking with a shiny and well-maintained top coat. So maybe my luck is I believe there's nothing I can't do with my talent. I just need to move from my comfort and try. Static is the music of those too afraid to try, and jealous that you might.
No one thought I'd ever be more than a fat girl.
No one ever thought I'd put myself through college with no home and no money.
Maybe no one ever really thought I mattered as much. Used to think that. Sometimes still do.
I knew better. I know better.
I don’t believe in Zimmerman or Beatles, I just believe in me. And that's reality.
And thing is, I do believe in love. I just haven’t found the match for this. Hopeful there's one and if not, I'll simply change my definition of it. Love that is.