Good-bye Angry Bitch, Hello Moody Bitch…

If bad audio were a bullet I’d have a hole in my head. I conducted my first interview a few weeks ago and it’s a nightmare to edit, but I have learned a lot. A lot! Mic placement, ambiance, backdrop, etc… These things are important. Bobbi Starr was great. Mike South hooked me up, Bobbi came to my home and it was a great interview. Thank you both!! It’s all evident once I post the video for viewing. Not this week, obviously. I am going to create a page on my site where I can post anything I want. I really just don’t care for the YouTube brand and the bar of ad space on the videos I need converted.

Tackling anger issues has brought out other impulses in my character and I am experiencing a deep catatonic state of ennui. It is causing me to second-guess my ability to be good at interviewing people. I don’t know, I just may not be intrusive enough an interviewer to be interesting. I don’t care about amplifying awkward things and I don’t care about making people uncomfortable. Bobbi plays the oboe. That is interesting to me. I love Henry Mancini. He’s the only musical writer I have ever heard that highlights the oboe in songs that really emphasize the peculiar sound that comes out of this instrument. It’s the main instrument in The Pink Panther, and it’s the backbone in a song called Cat and Mouse from one of my favorite movies, Victor/Victoria. Interesting to me, but the idea is that it is interesting to other people, as well.

I like having conversations with people, and after only one interview I can’t expect that I would find my rhythm already. I saw an interview once between Johnny Carson and Paul Lynde where Paul said, “You know, Johnny, you weren’t that geat your first year.” He goes on to say that Carson developed his character over time, that he wasn’t really seasoned the first entire year of his show, but the rhythm finally came to him. I suppose that is what happens if I keep at it. Eventually, I will find my rhythm. Not that I’ll ever be great like Johnny Carson, but will, no… must get better, sort of by default. 😀

I know what I don’t want, which, in a way, may be more important than knowing what I want. I don’t want to be a vampire. I’ve been interviewed… more times than I can count, and I don’t want to be one of those awful people that sucks a person’s energy dry for the purpose of making my own ignorance look interesting. You know, people who dress up (to hide) their own ridiculousness by trying to highlight other’s so-called ridiculousness.

   Some guy from the Howard Stern Show approached me at one of the L.A. Eroticas to ask me questions while I had a line of people waiting for a picture and autograph. I was never a big fan of the Howard Stern Show, but that’s not really important. When you’re promoting yourself, and especially the company your representing, you don’t turn down an interview – any interview. Being interviewed by jerks is no fun. Turning the tables on them has some reward, but even that, for me, is no fun.

   He asked me who the Vice President of the United States was, the capital of Alabama, how many states make up the United States of America… This was in 2001, so I don’t remember all of the questions he asked me, but they were blanket textbook questions – questions meant to show, not that he was stupid for taking the time to try and make me look stupid (which it did), but to show that I was stupid, period. I rolled with it.

Bozo: “Who is the Vice President of the United States?”

Me: “Sydney Poitier.”

Bozo: “What year marked the beginning of the Civil War?”

Me: “There was a Civil War?!”

   The crowd loved it. They were in stitches! He kept asking me questions and I kept giving him my schtick as a larger crowd developed because it was amusing. Thing is, he started getting angry, which fueled me further.

Bozo: “How does a Bill get passed?”

I patted him sympathetically, “Poor, baby. You really are stupid. Maybe you should just go back to school? I’m busy.”

Finally, he says, “Why don’t you just asnwer the question?” I said, “Why don’t you just go fuck yourself?” The crowd applauded. He stomped off and the next guy in my line said, “That was great, Julie!” Me and my anger issues! A real self-promoter would have just grabbed his penis and shut him up. I had to humiliate the guy, of course. I suppose it was great, but I stood there unable to sign the damn picture because I was shaking with anger. I am constantly amazed at the incredible amount of self-loathing it must require to be compelled to go out of your way to make people feel uncomfortable and even bad about themselves. What purpose does it serve? So other soulless people can laugh and be amused by you? Is it comforting to this kind of person to mask their own inadequacies by highlighting what they consider someone else’s inadequacies? We all have to do something, I suppose, but is it really comforting to be so rude to a complete stranger? I hope so. I hope it replaces companionship. I hope it’s a wonderful and fuzzy thing to cuddle up with at night because it seems like a monumental waste of time to me.

I remember the first time I was interviewed by Luke Ford. His first question to me was, “Were you molested as a child?” ‘Wow,’ I thought. ‘Nice first question, as if you somehow deserve to know the asnwer to that. Delicate and caring. Awesome!’ “Um, no…” I should have added, “Disappointed? Heartbroken that you won’t be able to jerk off later to me sobbing through the details of my robbed innocence?” Clearly this was not asked from a caring place. It was designed to illustrate a stereotype in order to make some point, though I’m not sure it was a very interesting point. There are lots of people who don’t become porn stars who are molested as children, and I, myself, am an example that you don’t have to be molested as a child to grow up and become a porn star. Choosing the sex industry as a vocation naturally implies that sex is and has been a stressed aspect of a person’s life, but that does not necessarily mean that the person has been extremely violated somehow, and even if they have been, unless you are a qualified professional, how is it exactly any of your business? It’s an assumption made by a mind that either only encounters that or only wants to see that. The question was not asked with real interest or compassion. It was an accusation with the expectation of exactly what the answer would be. To take a prod and poke at what is, more times than not, if it is true, a sad and painful issue is a cruel way to amuse people in order to report information. I don’t know what that is, but it is masking something. I would be very interested to know exactly what it masks.

I have cared for many people who are vacant behind the eyes because there is usually an inkling of goodness there that, if you do care, you hope can be nurtured into something kind and more worhwhile. No one is completely hopeless. Sometimes it’s not for nothing.

Yeah, maybe it’s enough for now to know what I don’t want to be. I do care about people. I am a dork and I’m genuinely interested in just about everything. Maybe that’s enough to be interesting. Maybe not…

– Julie Meadows