It’s Coachella weekend as if anyone in L.A. can escape the twitter or the most annoying person in the office mentioning it every day leading up to it. After my second time going, I declared no more. No more hot shitty weather, no more horrible sound systems, no more drunk, drugged 15 yo kids, no more fighting boys with stupid haircuts to see the shows I wanted. No more.

I have this recurring dream that I’ve been asked to speak at the high school I attended. They mean for me to fill the kids’ minds with stories of the great support I received there, how it became a launching pad for the success I was to enjoy later in life. Instead, I start my speech with, “This place is bullshit.” And it was.

I like to say that life isn’t high school, but I went on to grad school. The sad thing is many act as if it is. As if one needs to subscribe to the trends of the popular kids like getting married, having kids, buying a house or going to Coachella.

All this to say that I can understand why the Edies of HBO’s Grey Gardens and the cult fave documentary of the same name found themselves locked away in their dilapidated mansion, a world unto themselves. Let’s face it: Real life and real people can be ugly.

In their delusional world, there was singing and dancing. Lipstick and capes. And despite poverty and old age, there were still dreams of the “big chance.” And even as I may be overly romanticizing their lives, at least they had each other.

So, the truth is high school, life, and most people are bullshit. And if I ever have the chance to speak at my almer mater – to all those little Hollywood Queers and Susan Boyles and Bill Gates’s and Edies – I would tell them to survive this, because heaven knows some don’t, and afterward surround yourself with fabulously like-minded people, then go create your own rules.

Like rule #1: You’re a dip for going to Coachella and you’re even more of a dip if you brag about it.

I’m watching:
Grey Gardens