In perfect alignment for the weekend, I popped a blood vessel in my eye and now it looks all bloody on one side. Some people think I have pink eye. Some don't understand how it goes with my Century 21 Agent or Cowgirl costume.
Either way, I am trying to deal with looking like a freak. Best weekend to do it.
Last night, went to a party. It was filled with industry types at this beautiful house in Silverlake. Very creative folks.
In addition to finding the gold jacket at the Goodwill with Mads for my costume 5 minutes before they closed, I have been having the best shopping karma.
Whenever I wear boots, they end up killing me. There is a girl at work who has the best boots. She almost dances in them. It definitely puts a sass in her step.
I have been so sad and jealous that I will never know that joy. I had resigned myself to uncomfy boots that absorb every rock, every crack in the sidewalk. Sigh.
Until the other night. I bought a pair of beautiful boots for so little money you would laugh. But the best part is that they are soooo comfortable. I could play basketball in them (looks like a boot, feels like a sneaker).
Ah. I now have joy. Wearing my boots (excuse me...strutting in my boots) at work yesterday, I realized that if I created enough buzz about my fancy footwear, then maybe no one would notice my red, Halloween eye. I don't know if it worked but hell, I got comfy boots.
Now I am out the door to another fete. Gotta go get my cowgirl on.
Heeeee Hawwww
I spoke to my sister today during my lunch hour. It was the perfect time. I was at lunch and she was just putting her son to bed in Germany.
We talked the way I am sure we would if she lived closer.
We talked about when things go unfairly with life et al.
It was nice.
She was very supportive of me.
She is like a cheerleader that I sometimes forget is there.
I love having that unconditional love from someone my own age.
My parents have it for me but they are my parents.
They will always feel like they can tell me things I don't want to hear. The other day, my mom and I were talking. I was on the cell phone so I was talking a little louder than I realized.
Very curtly, she said,
"You DON'T have to yell"
"You COULD say PLEASE" I said curtly back
"Don't tell me what to do!"
"Well, don't tell me what to do in a way you would hate to be talked to"
"Whatever" she said immaturely
"Hmph...anyway..." and I continued my story. Normally with anyone other than family I wouldn't want to continue. The upset of the story would be too much.
But my family is the only unit that I feel that I can unleash on and can be unleashed on by them and come out feeling okay. Our fuses are short but we can recover quickly. It gets to me sometimes but I also know that they will forgive me.
On the way to Ensenada to visit my dad last week, we were running later than we had told my dad (who was already in Ensenada waiting for us).
He got annoyed on the phone when I told him that we were leaving San Diego around the time we should have been to Puerto Nuevo.
I didn't take it personally. I knew that he would still be there for me. I knew that he only wanted to spend more time with me.
He called me back to apologize which made me smile because I hardly felt he needed to.
I love my mom. She is an amazing woman. She has accomplished a lot and raised my sister and me as a single parent. She gave us music lessons and we always took long vacations either to Europe to visit her relatives or camping for a month up the west coast.
She and I do have a lot in common as to our emotional fighting methods. I don't like that so much. But at least when we do fight (I would say - she would say "argue"), we can recover more resilient than we used to. Part of that has to do with aging and also with the distance that we all have from each other. The actual physical distance.
I do miss them all. I am closer to my dad now which I love. So I am getting to spend my 30's being able to visit him on a regular basis. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving this year because I will probably spend it with him and Rondie. Last year I spent it with my mom and the year before, I spent Christmas with my sister in Germany.
I am trying to be more grateful for what I have in life.
I want to think that I am rich because of all that I have that is fulfilling in my life and not to think of all the things I am missing.
So on that note...I am very grateful for the family I have.
I am grateful that with all the technology that is out there, I can talk with and see videos of my family and have a rich rich relationship with all of them.
My work is throwing a party and as I hold my glass of wine, I toast my family. That for all the fights and trials and tribulations, they will always be there for me and I for them. They rock!
So there is a lunar eclipse tonight (from MSN: Skywatchers on half the planet are gearing up to watch Earth's shadow consume a blood-red moon Wednesday night in the last total lunar eclipse until 2007.). One that is supposed to be changing my life for the better. And if course there has been a storm. Rain and other accoutrements.
But the sun is coming out now. Yay. I will be able to see the eclipse. If I remember. Which I may not. Snooze. Tired. Not bored. Work has me hopping. Lunch felt like it was time to go home since the sky was a dark grey. All I wanted to do was eat and sleep. Which does not bode well for my plan o'health. I need to awaken my exercise routine again. I need to eat well. I actually am eating well. It is just such a conflict on days like this when there is mac and cheese or the copier guy puts Krispy Kremes in the kitchen. I have to fight the feeling. Which I did, you would be happy to know. I had my usual salad with chicken.
Last night I went shopping for clothes. I generally don't like shopping. I have no patience and usually no money. But this month has been nothing but parties and going out. I realized that my few outfits for modus operandi flirtation and general look cuted-ness weren't cutting it.
Went to a store. Spent a longggggg time. Longer than I normally would. Things were fitting and looking cute. As I am in line with my pile of clothing, the electricity goes out. General mayhem ensued. I would be damned if this evening of finding things that I could afford and that fit would be for naught. I put them on hold and wandered out. Thank god that happened as I realized that I hadn't had enough in my account as it was.
I decided right then and there that I am going to think that I am rich already. Count my blessings, be grateful and not think from scarcity.
Now I have some $$ in my account so I can go pick up the clothing on hold and strut around looking rich tomorrow.
Ah
I think the eclipse might already be making my life better.
Whoosh. That is what the time sounds like recently as it passes me. Whoosh.
I have done so much in the past month that I am hardly able to believe that we are close to November. Oy oy oy.
Following the heels of Mads's birthday extravangaza, there was my dad's birthday extravaganza.
He held it in Mexico. I had never been to Mexico, so I was very excited to take my amigas with me to Ensenada.
Mads and Ennui and I crossed the border and already felt the upcoming fiesta begin. I don't know Spanish, but they do, so they were helping me talk to the toll booth guys.
It was exciting. I love foreign languages. When I grew up in LA, I was surrounded by hispanic gangs and so I never wanted to learn spanish because it reminded me of a past I wanted to forget.
But living in LA again, I realize that to learn a language that you can actually practice with people is a language that I want to learn.
The problem with my german and french is that I don't get to speak it on a regular basis. So I drank up the nuggets they fed me with glee and abandon. I learned to say many things. I learned numbers and some colors.
Once we got to our hotel in Ensenada, I was in shock at how beautiful it was. It was strange because it is the same ocean that I see from LA, but there was the siesta energy behind looking at it from south of the border.
I won't go into detail because too many things happened: dinners, cocktail parties, seeing people I hadn't seen in 20 years, breakfast, papas and beers (my dad's idea - to quote Mads, "This is where Girls Gone Wild begins" - she ain't kidding), dinner in town, going into town to explore the local fare, swimming in the pool, napping and driving home and visiting Puerto Nuevo and Rosarito. It was a glorious melange of all that is yummy, fun and good.
I was worried about my cat and my fish. I was worried they would run out of food. I had given the fish those tablets that give off food throughout the day and I left a huge bowl of food for the cat. Everyone who normally watches them was out of town. I wasn't as worried about the food since I was only gone 2 nights and my cat doesn't eat that much, but I was more worried that she would start meowing out of boredom. No one in the building complained so I guess all was fine.
I mentioned to my dad that I wondered how they were doing. He said, "If the cat ran out of food, you probably won't have a fish" We laughed. I thought it especially funny since my cat doesn't even notice the fish. As soon as Mads is moved into her place, I will be giving Jazzy my fish. She is going to be a much better mommy to it than I could be. Freedom and I have come full circle and understand each other better than we did in the beginning. It might be that after his suicide attempt during a bowl-water change that he appreciates life more. I dunno. Maybe we just have both matured. Once I got home, both fish and cat were fine. Cat hadn't even eaten all her food and she was particularly clingy. Ahh what a weekend.
Needless to say...I am exhausted.
Last night, Evren Goknar played at El Cid before his west coast tour. It was a fun and reuion-y night. His voice was cool and Pete tore it up on the drums. Simone (who was sitting next to me) commented on how enjoyable it is to watch Pete play the drums. He is a master. Now if only the putz will give me another lesson, I would be much more effusive. The music was great. They tried new things that they will play on their tour.
I think their tour will be fun. Ennui is volunteering to be their roadie. Their music will be brought to many in California, Oregon and parts of Washington. Taking the country, college town by college town; bar by bar.
Work is crazy right now. My dreams are mucho bizarro. My face is not regaining its elasticity like it should (note to self to drink more water, mas agua, plus d'eau, noch viel wasser).
I am trying to prepare my brain for the french I will be speaking in Montreal in a few weeks. My brain is a swirling pudding pop of tourist phrases.
I have a wanderlust of the worst kind and keep dreaming that I am moving to europe or ny. Which is weird because I truly love LA. But I love travel. So even though I wouldn't want to move from here just yet, I am hearing the call of the travel bug.
And I am answering it...one weekend at a time.
It was brought to my attention this weekend that I am more about protocol than actual situations. It really affected me to hear it because the person telling me wasn't accusing me, judging or criticizing me about what I do wrong, but more that it was a fact without a right or a wrong.
Because it was said to me in that manner, I heard it as if it had been yelled from the mountain tops.
And it got me to thinking that in almost every situation where I feel put upon or annoyed, that is the absolute truth. It is always about protocol. I become annoyed because it is not what I would do. Ex: the slow drivers in the fast lane; the cafeteria lady who will bump into everyone because she is in such a hurry to get the food out, she doesn't care who gets hurt; thank yous for people who gave up their time or thoughts or sent you a gift (an email, a note, a phone call); an apology when you realize you are wrong; moving out of the line once you are done at the station (cashier, atm, coffee line, etc). All these things really get to me. The obvious thing you would say is: get over it. Well duh. I would if I could, but I wasn't aware of how it is protocol that binds me to these anger moments until now. It is hard to get over something that you can't quite put your finger on. It is the protocol of what I would do. I have been a rule follower and been rebelling against it all at the same time.
I used to work with a woman named C.
She was dying to be the center of attention.
She was a phone operator.
She had seniority over all of us.
She had been there for years.
She had constructed an existence through the years that worked for her; that allowed her to be the diva without stepping on anyone's toes. She had once upon a time, used email to send inspirational notes along with the lists she was required to send. She thought it would be her personal uplifting touch on the drudgery of office work. Afterwards, she took a tongue lashing for having used the email mode for her creative impulses.
So she didn't do it again.
She found other ways to express herself.
She annoyed the crap out of me. We didn't get along. Mostly because I came in several years after that original regime had chastised her. I was able to come in and claim I was an actress, receive the attention for it, make funny emails with the necessary emails.
It burned her. She hated me for it. At first I didn't know why. Then I didn't care once I found out. She was taking it out on the wrong person. The fact that I threw caution to the wind and did certain things without being even reprimanded for things she had been heavily punished for was unfortunate. But sheesh, I wasn't to blame. I was just being me. Basking in the glow of joyful living.
And with realizing (with regret) that I have become a rule follower, I think that I as I get older, I see what C was going through. When people break the rules of what I have HAD to follow, I get mad too. Annoyed. Pissed off. I feel like some memo didn't get to the cosmos that said it was all okay; that the rules have been lifted and that we can all unfasten our seatbelts.
I guess I have to realize is that the way we live is our choice.
If I choose protocol over certain situations that can vary from person to person and time to time, then I am replacing the risk, the adventure, the possibility that things will be amazing for stablilty and security.
And if stability is more important than all that lies behine door #2, I must take responsibility for choosing it and that I can't blame anyone for living out of the lines. I didn't think that I thought like this - inside the lines. I used to be a rule breaker. A sort of free spirit with a sense of responsibilty. But apparently, with every moment that I allow my anger at a slight instance get my goat, I see that I choose protocol over individual situations.
I am working to change it. Since I don't want to live my life thinking in the lines. It is not what I think about myself. It is not how I want to put energy into the world. I want to go back to my free spirit ways. Some call it aging, but I think if you don't ackowledge these things, it has nothing to do with age. But rest assured, if you don't acknowlege them, you WILL be old regardless of what year you were born. It will take away the joys that spontaneous living can afford.
Moments like this are exciting because even though I have to dig to the dirty, once I have done it, I can move past it and come out clean. Protocol has its place. And I cannot do a 180 over night. In fact, I may never be able to shake all my core beliefs about certain things, but I will try and learn that there is no wrong and right - just a little bit of the truth somewhere in the middle.
There is a quote that I love by Anais Nin:
"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are".
True dat.
This whole week has been a blur of social activity. Next week will be as well.
Last night, Mads gathered all her nearest and dearest to join her for a birthday dinner at Sake House. Being the only person who doesn't eat or like sushi, I was the first person to arrive. The waitress (who was brand new but very nice) was telling me about the specials. I was like, "Um...you might want to wait until the others get here to explain it all." She was very patient with me and showed me other things on the menu. So there I am at a table for 10 all by my lonesome with my new camera. I try to ignore the glares from the people who walk in and hear that they are on a waiting list to sit down while noticing that I am at a huge spread drinking a water. I shift uncomfortbly and look at my cell phone with the intent to use it just in case it gets ugly.
But I don't need to. Scott and Diana arrive. And right on their heels arrive the bulk of the gang with the bday girl in tow. I think by the end of the evening, we had 12 people squishing into the space that had only a short time earlier been uncomfortably all mine. Now it was uncomortably not mine and I realized that like all things...discomfort fades. It is how you handle the discomfort at the time. I loved the discomfort of squished being surrounded by cool, interesting friends. There were many conversations and Alan, the manager was so endearing and helpful with us.
Afterwards, we went to the Brass Monkey for some karaoke. It only took me 2 hours before my name was called. I thought it would be longer when I kept asking the dj host what he meant by "only 6 more songs" when it was clearly 12 songs later. I have bad karaoke karma. Jazzy looks at me and says,
"That always happens to you".
"I know...and I even tipped him right off the bat so he would see I am a serious karaoke gal".
"Well, so when are you going to sing?" Jazzy's friends ask.
"I think I pissed him off so down to the bottom of the list I go...."
A few songs later, I hear the dj call out names of people who are long gone. I cross my fingers. Finally finally, he calls my name. I sing. Mads, Ennui and Frenchiegal are all there singing the words back to me.
Depsite the fact that Mads has been dubbed "Shutterbug" by the throngs of men in her wake, it is Frenchiegal who takes some polaroids of me.
I come to realize that even though many people will tell you that hideous pictures of you are "really cute", and you want to hate them for saying that you look fine, that maybe that is the way you look. I can't really believe that since I have seen cuter pics of me, but maybe I have to come to that realization. Maybe my hair curly isn't as cute on me as I thought.
Either way, I realize that self love is the only way to cure the vision on the polaroid that is making me cringe and i say, "It is cute...aw...look at me". I only half believe my words. Frenchiegal reprimands me as I try and stick the photo in my purse..."I am keeping it. I am making a book of Mads's party", she says.
Shucks, foiled again. I thought I could get away with "loving the picture so much" that I could sneak it into my bag and destroy it later.
Not gonna happen. It will be in Frenchiegal's book. Wonderful.
Mads continues her path through the bar, taking pics with some guy's camera of other people. She begins conversations with many who all want to date her. But she is the Shutterbug and keeps making her way on her photojournal trail.
All in all, it was a wonderful evening.
Coming out into the night air around 2:30, we realize how loud we are once we are in the parking garage and Frenchiegal and I singing U2's "In a little while" just begins to echo with the musicality of ferile cats in an alley. Everyone piles out of the bar and trickles into the road where screams out the windows of "Call me" and "You rule" and "Happy birthday" are heard. And not all of them were by me. Even though, I was screaming the loudest out the window.
This morning, I woke up late again and got a parking ticket for street sweeping parking. I felt like poo from lack of sleep rather than a hangover (thank god for that). I am so glad it is Friday, but it wouldn't have been shabby had yesterday been Friday and today I were getting a Thai massage and waking up at 10am and sauntering to get a coffee down the street.
You know what? I just realized...
I can do that tomorrow. Yippeeeeee. Let the weekend begin.......
Just trying to ride the social buzz I have been on.
I also am trying to catch a wink o' sleep here and there.
I am in a good good mood.
Work is busy but fine. I talked to girlboss yesterday and I tell you, part of the reason that I am in such a good mood is that I don't have to see her passive agressive, selfish behavior before my eyes everyday. Just talking on the phone with her made me cringe. She is so greedy and horrid that I can't even talk to her either via phone OR in person without rolling my eyes. Ugh. But at least she isn't here since she is on maternity leave.
Last night, I left work and the sky was beautiful. There were pink sunset clouds. The wind was blowing and I felt alive. ALIVE I tell you.
Went to a Chinese restaurant with Mads and Ennui. The place mat was a listing of the chinese astrological signs. I am a rooster (on the placemat it said "Cock". Why that made me giggle like I was 12 years old, I don't know. But it did.) Some of the description for the rooster was correct. Some of it was random like : My enemy is a rabbit. Okay. I will file that away for a future use in my animal spy kingdom. You know what...come to think of it...girlboss is a rabbit. Now it all makes sense. I think I like Chinese Horoscopes.
Harry called again. I let vm get it since it was a blocked number (the boy is getting sneakier using a blocked number now, since I didn't answer his calls with his number showing). Again, I deleted it. It feels so good to not hem and haw on whether I should see him. I don't like how he makes me feel. He seems to be intersted in me and he seems to be charming and kind and then it only lasts like 2 minutes and I spend the rest of the time with him trying to get it back to those two minutes. I lose patience and then I just feel crappier about letting myself be duped again that this time would be different.
I once read about rats. If you have a rat in a cage and you feed it a pellet on the first day but no days after that, the rat goes back only on the second and third day but will not wait any more for any pellets. If you feed it every day, the rat will go back. If you feed it randomly but not a lot, like for instance, the first day, the third day, the fifteenth day, etc. the rat will always wait for it hoping it is coming any time now. That is how my relationships have been. Harry is one of them and I am glad that I realized that the pellets that were coming out were sooo random and I think they were moldy to boot.
Even though in Chinese Astrology, I am a rooster, I have been acting like the pellet rat. I be a rat no mo.
"The Rooster is the strutting peacock of the Chinese Zodiac!"
Viva my rooster nature. Time to wear it, work it and own it.
Cock a doodle do.
I once went to SF with some friends from Switzerland. They were on a non-stop train of parties, sight seeing, eating and more parties and more sight seeing. I was exhausted.
"You can sleep when you are dead", Catherine said.
"That might be soon," I said, trying to pace myself with them.
I have been praising sleep in the latest entries. I love it. I have never gotten enough of it. And lately, I have been choosing to sleep more than go out. I thought I was being safe and healthy. But I might have been using it as an excuse to hide out. This weekend that all changed.
I wish I could take this weekend and wrap it up in a pillow that I can rest my head on in the future (for a quick nap). It was fabulous. It was social. It was tiring but it was fun.
First, I need to say that I did a lot of thinking about myself and my own responsility in my life and why it wasn't working. And maybe that had something to do with why things started to feel good again. I don't know. I am not questioning it. I am not examining it. I am just enjoying it.
Friday night was haircutting party #3. Many of us were settling in for a night to get coiffed for the party. Unbeknownst to us, Frenchiegal had invited several hipsters to the place for a little soiree. At first, we all disbanded like when dishwashing liquid hits grease (at least in the commercials). Mads, Ennui and I were in the kitchen. The stylist, having social anxiety, hit the bedroom. Finally Mads says, "Well, we should go out there. Do you want to go out there?"
I didn't want to. Having dealt with my own self image being caused by my poor body image and feeling less than lackluster about my fashion sense, I wasn't prepared to be social with people I had nothing in common with.
But I thought about how the party the next night would be filled with more of the same so I thought I should just settle in to the party scene early.
So we went into the living room. We joined them. The hipsters. The cool folks. The folks that conglomerate at all night restaurants and laugh at things you normally wouldn't think are funny. I was worried that the talk would be banal and insipid. Ha, there goes my judgy wudgy self again.
I found I was very wrong.
The soiree turned into a mini party. I learned to say "thank you" and "goodbye/hello" in Greek.
I talked to a model and a music event promotor. They were both really really nice. We talked about LA and NY and how beautiful it is to fly into LA at night with all the lights.
We talked about how quiet the Hollywood Hills can be and how relaxing you can make your life in LA if you want to get away from it all.
There was an australian cricket player whom I couldn't understand.
Ennui had to translate several sentences for me.
There was the interesting boyfriend of the girl that worked with Jazzy and Frenchiegal. He and I talked politics and about the debates while the girlfriend and I talked about our love of cheese.
It was wonderful and I learned that I have been judging books by their cover for self protection...social self protection that is.
Mads's birthday party on Sat night was great. I won't go into detail because I got drunk and don't remember details. But it was fabulous.
I was a buzzing social bee.
I released myself from the outcome and enjoyed the great company of so many interesting, nice and talented people.
Ennui's fridge made some racket and people rallied around to fix it. Someone cut himself on a beer bottle and Ennui's roommate rushed to make a makeshift band aid.
Only one nieghbor complained about the noise.
No cops were called (which I am really surprised about).
Mads's parents made the Peruvian food and it was delicious.
And even though everyone told me that cake is not that important when people start drinking, the cake Nat brought was devoured.
After arriving home at 4:30am, I crashed into a dreamy recollection of the night. All the flirting, all the laughing, all the conversation...it was wonderful.
Sunday morning, on limited sleep, I met up with Claire for coffee. It had been awhile since we had seen eachother one on one. We caught up on all things present and drank our coffees like they were life preservers. At least I was. She tried a pumpkin latte and called it "intense". We talked about grammar and language which are some of my passions. It almost forgot how tired I was. It was great seeing her.
I got home and called Ennui. She, Di and Mads were going to Philippes.
I boogied on down Sunset to meet up with them. Once I got there, it was tough to find them through a sea of Dodger fans that were swarming the place. It made me feel like I was a little girl when Dodger fever was more consistent and coffee was still 9 cents and sold in styrofoam cups. Ah...some things never change.
After eating the delicious double dip sandwiches, we parted ways. I went home and tried to nap, but my bloody fire alarm was randomly going off. I wasn't even burning any candles. I still managed to nap through it.
Later towards evening, my manager came by to look at the alarm. Carrie and her parents and her boyfriend kept hearing the alarm go off through the windows. Soon, I had a group of people in my dirty apartment trying to fix the stupid thing. The only way I got it to work before I had the ladder was to whack it with my drum sticks. Once I had the ladder, I was glad to see that I hadn't broken it with the sticks.
It is getting fixed today.
After everyone left, I went to Jones to meet the gang for pizzas. Most of them I either already knew or had met this weekend. It was a lot of fun.
I woke up at 8:15am and realized that I was late to work. Left my hair in the little pigtail buns I had in last night. Even though it is messy, everyone at works thinks it is cute. Good. Maybe it will distract them from the bags under my eyes. Yawn.
Tonight, I am eating leftover cheesy delights from Rachael's weekend catering class and tomorrow I am seeing some friends from out of town. Thursday is Mads's actual birthday and we are still trying to get tix to Bright Eyes.
Lot going on.
I am tired.
But I am really revved.
Stuff is happening. Things are moving.
I like that.
Off to eat cheese. yummy.
Maybe I will sleep tonight. Or maybe I will drink a lot of coffee to stay up and join in the life I have been missing because to quote Swiss Catherine...You can sleep when you are dead.
I think I have lost my funny.
My funny and I used to go together like ...like... (crickets chirping) like
See, I have lost my funny.
I went to an evening of comedic storytelling last night. I loved it. Was inspired even. And then came that usual downward spiral of comparing myself. "These are your peers" came a voice from the recesses of my brain.
A louder voice spoketh, "Yeah right...your funny is gone. Your funny has left the building and it won't never be comin back."
Hmph.
Who the hell was that? I think that voice (with the questionable grammar) kidnapped my funny.
Funny. If you are out there. Please return.
I am not cool rocker chick (although I would like to be but alas, have hair that refuses to behave - which ultimately precludes me from being a flight attendant and I have hair that won't rock out - which ultimately eliminates me from being a rocker chick).
I am not cool art girl. I can't pull off the librarian look. I end up looking like a politician's wife (and not the cool kind)
I can't pull off that dramatic boredom. Or that glam wannabe actor look
Oh, I visit those personas once in awhile with mild to cloudy results.
But it is my Funny that keeps me proud, confident and content.
It is my Funny that allows me to be quippy at parties.
People turn around, "Who is that funny funny girl?".
Without my Funny, I am just a moppy blond mess of humorless quips.
Anecdotes with no real ending.
I am beginning to hear cocktail conversation turn from me, "Who is that boring boring girl?"
Well not really, but you can see the dilema that lies before me if my Funny won't return.
Funny, if you are there...I won't take you for granted. I will nuture you and allow you to be yourself more. I will allow you to play without the worry of being PC. Swear to god. And the devil. See? Heh heh.
I will laugh at your little hijinxes and praise you even if the world stares at you blinking.
Promise
Pinky swear
A man walks into a ...
Funny, are you back? I knew you couldn't stay away long. What? Okay, I will never tell another knock knock joke or a man walks into a bar joke again. Deal.
Whew. You had me worried. I am fine now.
Do you ever have one of those mornings where the air is clear, you feel like you think you always should, the music you hear resonates on an emotional reiki level of profound nostalgia and you smile just because your temperature is perfect and so is the temperature of the shower, your latte and your car?
That was my morning.
I have had it before. Once, I was driving and a Flaming Lips song came on and I saw a german lady in her convertable on the freeway and I imagined her going up to Monterey and in her snazzy german accent, she would ask for more towels at the resort when she got there. Jumping off of how I saw her life, I then pictured my life in the future when I own a house in Switzerland and have hard wood floors and a wood stove and a husband named Pietro who reads all the time and always prepares an after dinner schnapps for me so we can snuggle and listen to our exchange student play songs on the piano for us.
This morning I had a completely different image. This was of the past.
REM's song, "Nightswimming" came on. That song is so beautiful. I think I would marry any man who could just play piano for me all day long. In High school, there was a guy named Doug Ferguson who was the funny side kick to the popular drama guy. Doug was short and quirky. I thought he was amusing at best. Then, one day, I walked into the drama room and heard him playing piano by himself. Just making the song up as he went along. I was in heaven. he was no one's sidekick anymore. At least not to me.
That is how Nightswimming affects me. The piano haunts me and brings everything I think or plan to come to a hault. I just listen and let my mind wander. I am reminded of summers where you are jumping in a pool at night. Or jumping in the lake at night. Or running into the ocean under the moon. Everything is quiet and the ripple of the water gently swirls around your limbs. The boy you like is the one you can't live without. Even if he never noticed you or just barely said hi to you at the snack bar. When you are swimming at night, you are in control of it all. You hold the night. The boy you like, whether or not you suck at Marco Polo, sleeping in a tent in the back yard, eating squeeze margarine on your eggos, being excited by MTV and HBO because they are new, reading at the lake, creating dance routines for your family, camping trips, making chocolate chip cookies with your babysitter - all these things blend into one moment as you tread water under the dark sky.
Just dunking your head underwater feels like you can baptise yourself into a renewed moment.
And as I drove on the freeway this morning, all these feelings and memories permeate my skin and my mind and my senses. I didn't even notice that there was traffic. I arrived at work feeling very sprite.
It is kind of ironic that such a slow, haunting song about evening would rev me up in the morning on such a sunny day. But it did. And I am energized. And I smile. The temperature of my life feels pretty damn comfortable and today that feels great.
I am looking forward to Mads's party.
We are due for a party.
Ennui's bday in June and Jazzy's bday in July were terrific. But I think it is high time for une autre.
We are heading into party time now anyway. Mads, Halloween, and all the faldera that comes with the holidays. I am glad not to be working for Big Name Director and Girlfriend anymore. I am glad that I can enjoy the holiday season with my own life in mind. I do miss their Christmas gifts, though. They were great.
This morning started out like any other. Then, due to a domino effect of situations, we all went into GO Mode. Marci said, "That reminded me of my production days. I could almost go back to that." Key word is almost. There is a difference between constantly being in a state of panic; needing to get something that "they" needed Yesterday and having a morning once in awhile of organized chaos that gets the adreneline pumping. I felt all excited too. I was glad to be running around, with a purpose in mind and knowing that it would all get accomplished because of our teamwork.
But I am glad that doesn't happen everyday.
I remember that feeling and I never felt at rest. There was always something on my mind and it was never anything that would be life-threatening but it was enough to be life-cramping.
I like being in GO Mode for Mads's party, rather than for a photoshoot gone awry because of a pimple and all the million calls you need to place to a dermatologist at 4am.
I like worrying about if we (my friends) will have enough liquor and who will bring it and who has enough latin music to fulfill the fiesta rather than making sure I updated every contact for the Christmas card list and did Soolip have the right ribbon for the right paper.
I like that when this GO Mode is over, I can go see Jackass at Spaceland with my friends, eat lunch with my co-workers, support my friends stand up comedy, write my own stand up and work on my novel, all without wondering if I forgot something. Well that is not true. I always think I forgot to turn off the stove (even when I haven't used it). But at least I am not wondering if I dialed down my boss's crazy enough to get her/him to sign the right papers in the right place.
GO Mode is a nice place to visit and reminisce, but I wouldn't want to live there. Not anymore. Not ever.
I have had lunch. There was chocolate pudding. All stabilizers are resuming upright position and all anger is quickly subsiding.
Life is not as bleak as it seemed in my "woke-up-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-bed" mood.
I had a fabulous lunch with Carrie. A fabulous phone call with Mads.
I am reviewing several wonderful moments from the weekend.
Saw Shaun of the Dead on Friday. Loved it. Ate at Fred 62 afterwards.
Got a call from Harry. Deleted it. Felt free that I never need his energy in my life again. Meant it when I said it.
Next day, had a facial from the spa promotion. Place was in Venice right near where I grew up (Beethoven and Venice area). Went home all relaxed and watched Nip/Tuck and Supersize Me.
Sat night, we blessed Marci's house. Drive was hell but the party was awesome. Her brother walked in during the preparation and backed out slowly when we asked him to join us. He took a look at the burning sage and the holy water and the candles and was like "Hey, that's okay. I will come back when y'all are done".
He tried to go in his room and make a phone call but since in blessing a house, you need to go into every room, he was not safe from us and our wiccan ways. So as he is on the phone in his room, we come bounding in with rosemary and protection oil. He looked at us and took off.
The drinking afterwards was very fun. The dancing and the singing was as well. The whole evening was funny since in between our chanting, we would interrupt each other to laugh at something. We were more serious about it than I thought we would be, and truly not as serious as we probably needed to be. But we blessed it with our laughter and positive energy.
Got home around 12:30. Got a call from Mads who was at the Rustic. I went to join her. Crowd was a little whimpster-ish. All smiles, no contact. So we went to go eat. I was a tired pup. Uncharacteristically, I slept in until 11:30am this next morning. Mads, Ennui and I went to East LA to seek decorations for Mads birthday party. I was still in a fog with the meds and was feeling very out of it. It was crazy how crowded the mexican markets were. We came up with nothing. We bought some packets of chiclets. That was it. We then went to Goodwill to look for Halloween costumes. There were some cute boyz there. As I was outside waiting for Mads and Ennui, Claire and her dad were leaving. I haven't seen him in awhile. He is visiting from England. He is the only person that still calls me Teri Garr. I used to get it all the time, but I think since she has gotten older, many people only associate her with Phoebe's mom on Friends rather than the Mr. Mom wife or Young Frankenstein. It was great seeing them. They were off to Pig and Whistle for jazz.
After dropping Ennui off at the Kodak Theater so she could watch "The 10 Commandments" on a friend's guest pass, Mads and I went to Silverlake to eat at pho cafe. It was exactly what I needed and didn't know I wanted.
Then we drove to Westwood for dessert. I love drives like that. where you just talk and talk and drive and drive. Ghost and I have done it. My sister and I used to do it. Mads and I do that. My dad used to do that with me too. It is relaxing to me.
All in all, it was a great weekend. My rant earlier was hormonal. I am much better now. God and I still have a deal, but at least I am not going into it angry.
The "Crazy Feeling" light has gone off. Feel free to move about the universe. The Stabilzers are in the Upright position and we have clear skies. I know you have many blogs to read, I appreciate that you have chosen mine.
I wanna vent. I wanna scream. I am feeling like I do when I am starting to slip into my funk.
But I am trying to put a cap on my "story". That thing that defines me and that keeps me down. That thing that no matter how hard I try and think differently, emerges with just a slight moment that resembles the past. That "story" can emerge like a monster that lives within me. I try and try to end that story. But even when I think I have mastered feeling groovy and feeling confident about the world and my place in it. When I feel like it will all work out the way it is supposed to and that I am not a victim and that all of what I have felt or been told that hurt me has actually made me stronger. Even when those things are in place, I realize how tenuous my hold on this "new" way is, because it is my story that can emerge and bring it all down like a house of cards. I hate the story. I feel like I am missing something. Like maybe, I keep the story shut but it is still under my bed. When I should have just burned it. I dunno anymore.
I am mad that with all that I do to be grateful and kind and the inner work that I do, I am mad that nothing has changed. I am tired of always being my own cheerleader. I am tired of listening to advice from people who have no idea of what I have been through. I am on the verge of tears and want to move to a new town where no one knows me so that I can just start new. I don't like the current, repetitive dynamics I see with my friends and co-workers. I don't like it and it makes me mad because no matter how far I feel I have come, I always end up right here.
I came to work mad mad mad. I came to work deciding that I will be a hermit for awhile because I just can't keep up the facade of pretending that I don't mind being the one looked over, left out, passed up and ignored. I am talking socially, professionally, with my friends, with my relationships, with work, with lines at the market, with my insurance company.
Are you there God, it's me Margaret? I am trying to be grateful. I am trying to see where there is ease. I am trying to live by intention. What is up? When will this dam finally break and leave me with all that I have been seeking for so long? I feel like I am learning the lessons wrong every time. Each time I am faced with this shit, I always breathe a sigh and realize that I have grown. And by growth, I mean that I have learned it, passed it, ready to leave it behind. Apparently, it is the equivalent of going through a bumpy road on roller skates, making it through, glad you did because it was a challenge, ready to think it is over, only to be told that you have to cross it again...and again and again, although each time gets more difficult. The road might have lava, and your roller skates might become razor blades. I never seem to get off the damn road. After awhile, you wonder if the lesson is even on that road. Maybe you are a fool for continuing to hope for growth on that path. But giving up isn't an option and you don't see an alternative.
I don't want advice from anyone. I just needed to vent. I am still not feeling well and the medication still makes me feel foggy. I am at my boiling point and feel the need to retreat because I just don't have it in me to congratulate those around me on anymore gains that they may get as I sit and smile wondering who I pissed off in a past life.
It is almost lunchtime. My mood is mellowing a little. The gals and I laughed at work recounting stories from the blessing we did to Marci's house on Sat night. We had a lot of fun. And thinking back to last night when Mads showed me a new Vietnamese place with the yummiest food out in Silverlake, I am reminded that I have good moments. But I am ready to have a great life with some challenging moments...not the other way around.
Whew.
Okay, God, Universe, whoever is out there controlling the cosmos...I am ready for a good change. Can we go into a partnership on this? I have already put the deposit and first month's rent down. Now, let's see the life. Let's see the energy that will equal positively what I have put out there positively. I am ready. Just call me...you know the number.