Tom. My friend.

I'm famous. I'm recognized regularly when I'm in public. It's always the heated gaze of an admiring fan or a group of curious faces pressed together before me.

"Look! It's the girl from the Smart and Final commercials!"

Sometimes I answer back, sometimes I don't.

Fame feels like power. You have it, and others will do anything for a taste of the scraps--circling you like gamma wolves, pissing all over themselves as they try to please you. Sometimes it's amusing, but most of the time it's tiring.

You need more, you need a spiritual side to help guide you past the teeming hoards of humanity. Since becoming famous I've discovered my religious calling in the church of Scientology and it was during my time at the church I was able to strike up a friendship with Mr. Tom Cruise. He's my mentor.

Tom is truly an awesome man and probably the most famous person in the history of humanity. I know that's a strong statement, but it's a valid one. He's known world-wide, even in the most desolate places. Show a Somali farmer or a pigmy tribesman a picture of Tom Cruise and his eyes will light up! Instantly the pigmy or farmer is happy, energized and acting out his favorite scenes from one of Tom's movies.

"Show me the money.” he would probably say. That's fame of the highest quality. That's the kind of fame I want. I want to have my picture shown all over the world. When I visit a place like Somaliland or Germany, I want people to know who I am.

"It's the girl in the Smart and Final commercials", or, "That's the beautiful Oscar-winning actress who stars in my favorite movie.", they would say as I exit my limo.

Tom is more than my mentor, he's like the big brother I've never had. I've spent quite a bit of time with Tom. Laughing, crying, doing each other's hair, sharing each other's clothes (we're the same size), making rad stuff at our claytables. It was part of my training in the Church of Scientology. I spent two soul-searching months living in Tom's pool house, Tom visiting me every morning. He would greet me filled with energy and smiling broadly; crisply dressed in and impossibly expensive Italian suit that was so stylish it made me wince.

He would say the same thing every morning.

"You know how I start the day?” he would ask rhetorically. He'd then clap is his hands in an explosion of Cruise charisma

Clap!

"I look in the mirror every morning and I say to myself-- Self! You handsome son of a bitch you. You gonna get some today?", he'd yell.

Clap!

"Hell yeah. I'm gonna get me some-- more than a taste!”

Clap!

He'd then become very serious, and stare at me, his face close to mine. "Somedays", he'd continue after the staring was over, "you gotta grab that Thetan and give it a good slap!"

Clap!

Tom would then make his way out of the pool house and into the pool for his daily immersion therapy treatment, ruining his amazing suit in the harsh chemistry of pool water.

What kind of fame is this? I asked myself the first time he did this. What kind of caged fury is this man that even in the act of destruction his charisma leaves me in awe?

I knew at that moment Tom would become my Sensei. He's now teaching me about fame. I'll write more about Tom at a later date, right now I'm off to an audition, a big one. I'll keep you, my fans, informed about every exciting detail.

Until then,
SaBG