#i wanted to bs excited im just so terrified i dont want my birthday to come

[graciebrams]

I'm literally so scared rn i don't wanna grow up make it stop

[bonniebiess]

Courtney Love is my favorite scary rockstar broad. I dont care who wrote what for who I worship Hole and all things Nirvana. I loved her. She was nuts. It gave me so much permission to be. I was 26 here. Id never drank before a shoot but was so nervous that I did 2 shots of Bushmills right in front of my mother when I got the call that she was comin in. I was terrified and beyond excited.

She got there and I heard her bustin our director ladies’ chops and yellin for her Wednesday dose in the green room. My heart raced. I loved hearing her raspy unapologetic voice rehearsing through the wall. It was the anniversary of Kurt’s death. We didnt know what to expect

She needed an iPhone charger so I gave her mine. I was introduced as her photographer and the one charging her phone. Brownie points. She busted a few poses making sure her arm stayed connected to her guitarist to avoid edit and off she went. She left her glasses and lyrics on my gear.

Id realized Id forgotten to snap a polaroid for my collection. I knocked on the green room door. Told her assistant and handed her things in. Suddenly hear “oh I love Polaroids!” Into the den I go. “You gotta get me smokin! Smokin in the AOL building!” She just kept posing. I wasnt expecting it. “Lets do a Helmut Newton pose!” I think Id left my body at that point.

I snapped one and she blinked. “Oh I fuxkin blinked!” She rips the polaroid out of my camera. I go to shoot and it wont go. My heart sank. “Oh sh!tgirl I think Im outta film.” (I later find out I have film but Miss Love broke my camera.) She gives me a disapproving eye but doesnt lay into me. I think she liked me cuz I had a Radiohead tshirt on and she could smell the fangirl on me behind my cool girl bs.

“These are cute. These are cute. OK. You get this one. Im gonna give these to all my friends.” and drops em in her purse. I humbly say thanks and dip out of there with my head still attached.

I get back to my set and realize she threw the pulled polaroid across the room. I went back in to find it. Nobody in there. All are in the interview room. No luck. I look over. I see the purse.

I don’t know if was the high of the shoot or the pure raw feminine chaos energy in the air but I went for it. Past the smokes n over the lipstick I find my shots. I pull out 4. Put one in my pocket. Heart pounding out of my chest at the thought of her walkin in at that moment and mauling my face clean off. Im about to book it when I hear the voice in my head. “She gave you the one you want. You get caught and youre fuxked.” I took a breath, put it back and ran like hell.

My editor saw my face. I told her what was up. I thought she’d never put me on anything ever again. She put me on everything after that.

Happy Birthday Court. Thank you for teaching me how to rock and give less fuxks. I hope you enjoyed the polaroids. Sorry bout the purse fiasco. You owe me a camera. Love, Bon