The one where I go to Camp Freddy

No one's really been in touch since the shooting. I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself and miss home a bit today. I don't really know that many people so I feel a bit isolated. Which is fairly normal.

I'm due at Mr X's at 9am. Zuma. I have to send a bunch of actors some emails as Mr X. I have to get their personal emails. So I've been calling and emailing agents in London and LA to get their details. It isn't easy. They don't want to give them out. But I try and try. I eventually get about 90% of the actor's details. And I send out the emails. Some of them reply immediately. I try not to read their responses but... you know. I'm human. Everyone's being so lovely. Even though they didn't get the lead role. I want to be friends with them all but they don't even know I exist.

A drive back to LA and...

That’s it with my 'friend'. I’m driving back from Bunnie Lane in Zuma and I get the call. He’s angry. Apparently he’s being tough with me because ‘if he’d been tougher with Heath, he’d still be alive.” Anyway. He’s so angry. He asked me to review a friend’s book in the Telegraph for him. When I said I couldn’t he went crazy. I’m so upset. He’s flipped. Flipped. I get the email. The phone call. And then the threats. That’s it. Three years of friendship down the pan because he’s angry. The comments need not be repeated. So... I’m really hurt. I call Jennifer. While doing that I get a vile message on my answer phone. I’m shaking by the end. I call him back. I want to sort this out. But… nothing. I’m dead to him. An hour later I’m dropped on facebook. That’s social death. You know it’s over when you’re dropped on facebook. I cry a bit. I check facebook again. I've now been blocked. Now that's real anger.

Quite a week really - shot in the back one day, stabbed in the back the other. He was one of the most brilliant men I'd ever met, wonderful brain, sharp intellect but...

This has not been a good time. My job is a disaster and now my friendships are turning to shit. Ah well. What's doesn't kill you etc., etc.,

On the plus side, I'm going to the Camp Freddy show with my friend Ms J. Her husband's in the band. What fun! I mean! fun! They get rockers on stage with them to jam and it was just great. The guy from Linkin Park doing Paradise City. Chester? That's what I think his name was. Chester maybe? Yep. And on it went. I mean... I know I'm not into music and all these people are wasted on me but it was amazing!

There were some incredible artists up there - Slash among them. He was just incredible. Here's a snippit from an online article:

"I have seen the future of rock & roll, and its name is Camp Freddy. Compared to the past of rock & roll, the future of rock & roll is a little older, a bit more intimate, but still wildly and undeniably cool. Camp Freddy describe themselves as "not a band" but "also way more than a jam session." More descriptively they are called an "Occasional Happening" and "a freak of Hollywood nature." The happening freaks in question are -- at their core - guitarist Dave Navarro (Jane's Addiction), drummer Matt Sorum (The Cult, Guns 'N Roses/Velvet Revolver), Billy Morrison (The Cult), Chris Chaney (session great and tours with Alanis Morrisette and Jane's Addiction) with charismatic and charming frontman Donovan Leitch, son of another fine singer you should know who went simply by that first name.

"Based on Wednesday's show, Camp Freddy is an extremely welcoming place -- a packed crowd at the Roxy saw a constant stream of guests and fellow travelers take the stage including Slash, Steve Jones, Mark McGrath and Chester Bennington of Linkin Park, among others, running through an intoxicating blend of classic rock and punk standards. A singer named Franky Perez sang the hell out of "Highway To Hell," Chester Bennington made "Mountains" by Jane's Addiction even more majestic and McGrath did a very credible "EMI" with Steve Jones sitting in. And Slash played "Paradise City" and seemed happy to be with a band that actually appeared to like one another. "*** END OF ARTICLE EXTRACT


I got to go backstage... It turns out I'm a celebrity in my own right. I'm the British girl that got shot! The lead singer, Donovan... turns out that Ruby, who drove me to the hospital, was on her way to meet Donovan that day. It's brilliant. Truly brilliant. I didn't even think about Mr X ONCE. Not ONCE.

However... Mr X's not happy. Not happy at all. He gave me a hard time... My work, apparently, has dropped off this week. I think for obvious reasons - things haven't been great. No. But then I was shot at the start of the week so I've been a bit slow to get things together. Mr X's not too sympathetic. He wants his pool fixed. The guy I spoke to when I was getting gassed hasn't fixed it yet. Despite me phoning him. Repeatedly. I'm really upset. I don't think I'm best suited to this. I want another job. It's only been six weeks and I'm so unhappy. I'm just trying to get on with it but there are other jobs.

In the meantime I'm loving my own three-bedroomed place. Roof pops by occasionally but it's basically mine.

I still haven't told my mother about being shot. Ulp. She's going to find out at some stage... my credit card bills are going back to London so she'll see 'Cedars Sinai' on my bill. She's not stupid. She'll work it out. Piss.