It was a few years ago. I think I probably was. I actually never even really drank that much, and as I told Oprah, I only did coke times, so statistically, the chances are good I was not wasted when this happened. I was wandering around the Chateau Marmont, which is a hotel. I will say that I do like the Chateau because there are lots of beautiful flowers tended by people who care as deeply about tending flowers as I do about my passion, starring in films.
I had just taken a swim in the pool where, per the advice of several therapists, I had taken some time to imagine that I was one of any number of various sea creatures. Afterwards I had taken a leisurely shower and then put a deep conditioning pack on my hair. So I was just walking around inhaling the scent of night blooming jasmine and my deep conditioning pack when one of the bungalow doors opened.
This guy stuck his head out. He said it in this really challenging way, like deep conditioning your hair was against the law. He was kind of good looking I guess but there was something about his face. He looked so serious, like he had just finished reading books and had to read more or he was never going to get to watch TV again.
Have you ever thought about how the expectations that society places on you as a celebrity and how you exploit yourself by responding to them? But deep conditioning my hair is one of the ways I find my center. He actually got a tear in his eye. He asked me to come in and I did. I sat in a chair. I knew anyone who went to school for as long as James Franco had was probably just enough of a jerk to imagine that everyone he came in contact with was the stupidest person in the world.
Parenthood is so — circumscribed by biology in this culture. And really, since what I am is an artist, really, more than a human, and since he is an artist, more than a human, really, why can it not be said that our relationship was more of a parenting relationship than the one I had with the people to whom I am attached by mere biology? Now, if biology was the ideology I adhered to, certainly, by that measure I would have to allow that he is NOT my father.
In a way, Gus and I are like — husband and wife. A series of photographs, fake documentary style. Gus and I meet, we fall in love, and we have a baby, he gives birth to it, I think, not me — well.
Maybe it should be me. James Franco went on. That is seriously twisted. A movie being a baby, but really being a movie?
I went in the bathroom. And meanwhile, we get divorced and the judge puts the baby-move on the witness stand to see who it wants to live with.
Why not fake documentary? He came over and stroked my hair. This is the best idea I have ever had, and I never would have had it about you.
Can I reward you by reading you a story? So leave me alone. I did you all a big favor. She also writes for NewYorker.