Sometimes I contemplate the weirdest things.
I think about words that sound weird if you say them enough.
I think about how my friends became my friends. Like what was it about them other than persistence on someone's end that made the relationship go past being just pals.
I think about how I was convinced that when originally buying my cell phone, it would only be used for emergencies.
I think about how one birthday, Christmas, 4th of July can be shit one year and amazing the next (or vice versa).
I think about how intimacy can change your mood and make you glow.
I think about how you never remember falling asleep.
I think about how we lock ourselves into our own prisons many times and from the outside, you wouldn't have an idea about someone else's prison.
I think about how I always wanted to be a projector person when I was little. That way you could see "Grease" as many times as you wanted.
I think about being grateful that my lot in life was different than that (not that there is anything wrong with being a projector person)
I think about crushes that never emerged into anything.
I think about how my life would have changed had I been a young mother.
I think about the hypothetical family dynamics had I had a brother or had I not been the oldest.
I think about how my toenails can cause me so much pain one day and the next, I will have a sharp pain in my arm and the next day...no pain anywhere.
I think about how much doctors really know compared to the power of our brain and the power of self healing if we really concentrated.
I think about my cat and wonder if she is really intuitive or a little slow.
I think about being a teenager and loving the Monkees and wishing I could live in the 60's so i could see them when they were young.
I used to think the same thing about the actor Terrance Stamp.
I think about the connections between all the boyz I have loved, dumped, been dumped by, fantasized about and been friends with and find I have no idea what attracts me to someone other than I just feel it when it is there.
I think about how we are all connected and wonder how that is true when there are really people I can't stand.
I think about why stuffing for Thanksgiving. Did the Indians come up with that?
I think about what LA must have looked like when people first started making movies here.
I think about what would I bring to the past if there were a time machine. A computer? A digital camera? breath strips?
What would I bring back? well made bras? an iron? Some gum?
I wonder why I don't like certain foods.
I wonder why I love chocolate. According to my latest blind date blunder, it is because I am a girl. Hmph.
I wonder why NY feels so familiar other than from movies.
I wonder why sometimes I am moral and other times, I could give a damn.
I think about how limited our time is and wonder what takes me so long to live my dreams and do my laundry.
I wonder why I treat money like I am playing hot potato. As soon as I get it, I try and get rid of it.
I think about these things sometimes. Sometimes they come in a flash. Or in a stream of consciousness way of blips.
I usually think of them on long drives. Or at a red light. Or in a parking structure. Or after I have seen someone wrongfully wearing spandex.
So much has happened.
I planned daily to write about it. But I didn't. So here it is.
I caught up with Debbie. We theorized about dating. It was great to talk with her. Even though she lives in Oregon and it has been a year since I have seen her, we always remain close.
I watched "The Office" Christmas special. I was so moved by it. I want to be in a creative project like that. Guess I always have. And in knowing what I know, it looks like it will be a project that I at least begin rather than joining an already existing one.
I had a blind date which made me really not ever want to go on anoter blind date ever again. Nice enough guy but very odd vibe from him. No love connection at all.
When I walked into the place, I went to hug him and tell him hello.
He stood up and in a very loud muppet like, slow voice said, "Well, hold on. Let me get a look at you. Oh my...you are a pretty one."
Everyone in the place turned to look.
I said, "Let's just grab table".
We talked about food. Food we like and food we don't like.
When dinner was over, we were supposed to go to a performance.
He was not thrilled when I cut the date short because of a migraine which canceled the rest of the evening. I normally don't get migraines. But somehow, this date had brought it out of me. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was on my way back home. It was over. Note to self...never ever do another one of these again. All they bring me is comedy material and I have plenty. But funnily enough, I may be doing a comedic spoken word in December with Christy. I may talk about internet dating. If I do, he will be at the top of the list. Ugh, me and my comedic material.
Mads and I at the last minute went to the Wiltern to buy tix from a scalper to the Wilco show. It was fun.
That was like a week and a half ago.
Then there were the late nights editing my dad's bday video from Mexico with Mads and Ennui. It was wonderful to be creative like that.
On Wed night, Ennui and I were up until 3:30am when I finally admitted that I needed to go home. We had edamame at 2:00am just to stay the course. Ennui had suggested I go home but I wanted to finish the project.
I finally did.
On Thanksgiving, I went to Diana's with my cat for brunch. It was good to see everyone. Mads, Jazzy, Scott, Diana, Ennui and I watched the finished video. It was great. Ennui edited well.
Afterwards, I was on to San Diego.
Great time. Great food. I really love my dad's girlfriend. Her kids are amazing too. And her grandkids are fun. It is great to see my dad so happy.
Can't say my cat was happy about being there with Rondie's cat, but she survived and actually stood up for herself.
Had many epiphanies over the weekend. Am no longer sad about Gunner. He is a charming, smart, funny guy that I would like to know but not be in a relationship with. That feels good. That spark has left the building.
Was contacted by an ex who called like 12 times before leaving a message. He called another several times before leaving another message. We talked.
I can't believe how much I have grown up from when we dated. That spark which was already gone, now moved even farther away. I think I have put all my ghosts to bed.
The weather is amazing today. The sun is really bright and it is cold outside. I even have boots on and it is still cold. You can see the mountains. I would love to go to the top of Mulholland Drive to see the view to the ocean. I bet it is amazing.
Things are good. December is almost here. I am almost done with my Christmas shopping and baking of the pumpkin bread. This morning I wrapped presents and watched Elf before work.
And as I wrapped, I pondered how I feel.
How I feel about who I am and who I have become. What my dreams were and how they have changed. Or stayed the same. And why. Or why not.
All the growing pains I have been experiencing the last few months have paid off.
I feel a little more solid. In fact, a lot more solid.
A little innocence has left.
I am a little more mature about the world.
I am no longer taking people at their word. I am no longer so emotionally penetrable.
Some of my friends worry that will harden me. I see it more as a way not to be sooooo consistently injured. I feel like I entered the regular world. The world where you know your worth and you act accordingly. You don't put yourself last. And you don't put yourself first all the time out of fear that you will never be put first by anyone else.
You just take situations as they come and judge them on their merit.
And you work off of an internal validation that all that you are and all that you have are all you really need.
I get it. I feel it and for the first time in a long time (if ever), I am living it.
He told me he was a modern recluse.
Let me back up.
I went to Largo to see Greg Behrendt's "Bring The Rock" show.
My friend Christy was performing in it.
I had never been to Largo which is weird because it holds shows that are totally my thang (comedy, music styles, etc).
I get in line and wait next to a man who reminds me of a neighbor I would never know but whom I would see walking to buy a paper.
He is engrossed in reading the paper, actually. I nickname him Paper guy.
Right after I arrive to wait in line, 3 girls walk up.
They are probably in their early 20's.
The prettiest one is aware that I am listening to their conversation. The more social one is knitting and talking about Greg Behrendt.
The girls work at a book store and he will be signing copies of the fabulous book that changed my life, "He's just not that into you".
The social girl starts to pass out flyers to the book signing which will be in December.
The uncomforable one reminds me of one of the two girls I lived with when I moved down to LA. Unfriendly, nervous, socially anxious, independent, probably lives in her internet world on message boards.
Sure enough, she mentions that she is not used to being out on a Monday night. She is normally online or watching tv.
These are not my people. I am always out. I am usually online during the day. Except for the occasional internet dating phases I go through, I just don't have the time to be online when I am at home. But I know the type.
What is weird as I look at the line is that I am surrounded by several of these types. Whether it was the music or Greg or the concept of bringing music and comedy together for a fabulous evening, these loner types usually found online were out. They were being seen and I realized that I was watching a rare event. So I listened to more conversations.
Interestingly, my ego wasn't present. I wasn't self conscious about standing there by myself. I wasn't like, "I hope every one thinks I am comfortable" which I would usually be saying in my head.
Nope. I just was. I was present and enjoying the peripheral conversations that were all about me.
We, the non reservationers, were let in first.
I grabbed the best seat at the bar.
It is at the end and has a wall so you can lean against it. It has the bar turn so you can rest your arm. I order a wine. I settle in for the evening on my stool. They let the reservation holders in and the place fills up.
A Warhol-esque Steve Martin looking guy walks up and sizes me up and grabs the seat next to me.
"Is this taken?"
"No, all yours"
"If I block you, let me know, or just push me out of the way."
"Okay" I laugh
He turns around again and says, "That is the best seat in the place. I usually sit there."
"Really? It is a great seat. I would let you sit here out of seniority and all, but I really love it, so I won't give it up"
We start to chat. We talk about different things in an effortless way.
He is a puzzle to me since I can't tell if he is gay or straight, social or shy, bored or interested in our conversation.
He keeps saying things like,
"I don't want to be THAT guy who calls himself a writer. "
"I don't want to be THAT guy who..." etc.
Finally he says, "I don't want to be THAT guy a lot."
We laugh.
I tell him, "I am THAT girl. The one who says she is a writer. The one that goes out a lot. The one who will ask you what your sign is. By the way, what is your sign?" I pegged him as a virgo.
He looks at me and pretends to get up,"I am so outta here. Are you kidding me?" he laughs, pretending to be offended at my cheesy pick up line.
"Um, I don't know anything about that stuff, but I am a Pisces" he says
"Me too. No way. When is your birthday?"
"Feb 25."
"Oh My God! I am Feb 26. You know why Feb pisces are the most special?"
"Why" he reluctantly asks
And taking a theory from Natalie's brother Andy who is a feb pisces, I say, "Because February has the fewest days and Pisces is mostly in March which means there are the fewest number of Feb pisces."
"Oh really. Hmmm" He doesn't seem that interested
He tells me that he has taken on a new profession that is something like selling lightbulbs to Ikea. But in addition, he is a drummer and a website designer, a comedy snob and a myspacer. I guessed that one.
He admitted he is a loner.
"I am social now, but in my life, I go to work, go to some of these comedy shows, and go home. I like it that way. I am a modern recluse. Which means that..."
"Which means that you are online 24/7"
He nods. He hands me is website address. Part blog, part whatever.
"So you are one of those craigslist, internetti types".
I see them. I know them. I dabble in being one and then quickly undabble. I date them, but I never discuss with them the allure that the cyberworld has over their real life.
"I don't get it. It keeps you at arm's length from true intimacy," I say.
But who am I to say that? I blog.
"Guilty. I love it. I don't like people that much."
Which kind of bogs my mind because I am having a very easy conversation with him.
"When you go to my website, you might be freaked out and wonder just who you were sitting next to all night" he continues. I ponder what that could mean. I find I am itching to get to a computer just to satisfy my curiosity.
The man who had been in line when I first arrived (Paper guy) walks up to him and starts talking to us. Apparently the 2 men see each other solo at every show. They make the circuit of comedy alone.
They show acknowledgement by a nod.
Paper guy comes back several times.
The first time paper guy walked away, Warhol leans over and says,
"I would have introduced you but I can't remember his name"
"That is okay" I say.
Paper guy returns. Apparently he travels a lot for work and gives presentations (which I find odd considering he is very nervous talking to me).
They both admit that they are the lone wolves.
They like it that way.
But Warhol is a modern recluse, spending his waking hours socializing online. Being intimate with the keyboard. Expounding angry thoughts and ideas in a way he couldn't in his mild mannered real life version of himself.
Paper guy is not like that. I think he is just a loner. I don't think he has an internet life. He admits that he has no life at all.
I don't understand people who would readily admit that to a stranger. What is the allure in saying that to someone you don't know? I just don't get it.
I normally would have tuned out but I decided to be present.
I realize that my modus operandi has always been when I meet a guy to either try and shag or snog, or avoid being shagged or snogged.
Hmm.
That eliminates a gray area for friendships. Or interesting conversations with oddballs. So I took down my wall and listened to paper guy. He was not that interesting and I think he was flirting with me. But he was nice enough and I think he was really trying to be social. He soon after went back to his bar stool at the end of the bar.
And I continued talking with Warhol.
Warhol is so focused in his views of not being lumped into a predisposed idea, he is not willing to take any identity.
He was in a band in the nineties that was signed.
He had a tumor on his wrist which cut out his drumming at least for awhile.
He goes to the comedy shows but will not admit to wanting to perform.
I finally dragged it out him that he is a closet comic. That he is a star underneath just seething to get out.
He snickered, not readily agreeing with me, but entertaining the notion nonetheless.
I couldn't tell if he was amused by me or had a disdain.
I think he was amused. Almost effusive in his praise at me taking the subway in Montreal alone to try and practice my french. It kind of shocked me because he was so emotive. Then he went back to his calm.
He was dressed in a tie. I asked if his attire was from work.
"This is what I wear".
He looked nice. His whole look defied identification.
that kind of intrigued me. usually I can see through those types and I am annoyed by their pretention. But he was so mannered and kind.
"Can you see?" he asked when the show started; making sure nothing was blocking my vision.
I nodded.
He was very attentive without being creepy.
He was interested without being overbearing or clingy.
The show was fantastic. Chisty did a great job. She was the only female performer. Her story was awesome. Chris Hardwick I am now in love with. Funny, offensive and just plain goofy. I was torn between my wanting to be with him and wanting to be him. Oy.
There was one moment during the night when I stopped and looked around at what I was experiencing. The music, the comedy, the company, the talent, the feeling of liberation from my ego and the funk. I couldn't help but smile.
I told Warhol I was giving up the drums since I had flaky teachers who were no longer around. He reminded me why I should stick with it. He gave me some practice tips and told me where I could go practice for free.
When the show was over, I shook his hand and told him that I would be going to his website.
He smiled and said, "Just remember that some of the rants are 6 years old, meaning that they may seem immature."
"Expect to hear from me" I say, not really sure what I mean or want I expect to gain from this interaction.
I see Christy and congratulate her. I want to go up to Chris but I can't get to him gracefully and decide to forgo it. I talk to one of the band members, Phil. He is cool. I walk out with Tess and other Chris. I saunter to my car and drive home with a big grin on my face, listening to Interpol.
I may sometimes slide into modern reclusivity, but my druthers would be to have an interactive evening like last night.
I wonder if loving both worlds but succumbing to neither makes me more of a hyprocrite. Or a freak. Or does it make me a skimmer of two polarized worlds that I am learning to believe may not be so polarized after all.
We are becoming a schizophrenic society. But even the self proclaimed recluses were able to gel and get their social butterfly on.
Maybe in asking these questions as I type, I will find the answers.
Maybe in asking these questions of my friends over coffee, I will find the answers.
Warhol didn't want to be put into a catergory, but consequently categorized himself.
I guess we all do that.
I guess I am THAT girl. And I guess that is okay with me today.
What a trip this past month has been.
Past year.
Past decade...you get the point.
I allowed a funk to take over my being as of late.
Even during my travels (which I have to believe on some level were being used as a distraction to avoid getting my shit focused), I carried the funk with me.
This weekend, I did a lot of thinking. My life needs a drastic change.
When talking with Jax at Ev's birthday drink last week, she said,
"How much do you want to change? I mean, I think at some point, you reach a point where you can't change anymore."
Hmmmm, sort of the way I feel about growing long hair. At some point, it won't grow past your shoulders like it used it. It is like it is incapable of growing more.
But I digress.
"Yeah, I see what you mean. But maybe I haven't tried enough to change. I think that I closed myself off at some point and have been on an autopilot of some sort. That is what I want to change."
"You don't seem like you are on autopilot."
"Well, I am still doing things like I always have. I approach things the way I always have. Mostly from a place of fear. If I can shift my life up, you know shake it to life, then maybe the outcome will be different. And I think I misplaced my faith. I need to see if I left it in the dryer or the car. But I need to find it. Cuz without the faith, I ain't going nowhere different."
Blink blink. She just looked at me. Could have been her jetlag. Or the fact that in my dramatix over the years, my friends have come to give me with their eyes and smiles, the equivalent of a pat on the head when I have a new epiphany.
I guess the only way to prove it is to change it and the only way to change it is to do it.
This weekend I was able to really relax and focus on how that change was to emerge.
First, I scheduled doctors appointments.
I called old friends. I paid bills that were due. I took out the garbage. I did all the dishes (instead of leaving a knife or a glass which I am wont to do). I brushed Nukkah and cleaned out her cat box. I exercised. I did some writing. I got my hair highlighted. I got a mani/pedi. I watched several dvds that brought my nostalgia into a point of closure.
I reminisced about old lovers. Old boyfriends. Old ideals and old ideas.
I did a lot of thinking.
I talked to Sammy. I talked to Christy. Sam gave me that warm feeling that I have been missing from a guy who gets me here in LA. Christy gave me a bit of inspiration towards relationships that I have been missing here in LA.
She also gave me a jolt towards my career that I am excited about.
I am in Go mode. I am focused. I am a race horse with an eye on the rabbit. My other eye is on the track.
Sat, I went to the salon for my promotion coupon and had this trannie with long nails do a fucking fantastic job on my hair. I feel like I am back in the swing of things. I wasn't sure how her long nails would get the job done on my coloring, but she knew what she was doing. The nails made the shampooing out of this world.
I am such a hedonist. I love feeling good. You wouldn't know that from the hell that I have been putting myself through in relationships or my body image, but trust me, I am one. I left feeling like a hair ad.
Sunday, I had coffee with Claire. We had sooo much to catch up on. My stories of Mexico, Montreal and Gunner. Her stories about England and Scotland and her family.
I have been feeling so low about Gunner. I need to move past it. I haven't been able to do it.
In talking with Claire, it became clear that I was resisting the change and transition that I had asked for.
That big shake up is underway and I am like, "Uh, really? So soon?"
My life has started the little earthquake and I am trying to keep it together when in actuality, what I need to do is let go.
During our conversation, I figuratively felt my pinky finger, ring finger, middle finger all loosen its grip on my control.
By the end, when we walked by Skylight books and tapped on the window where the kitty was asleep, I felt a thousand times better.
Having consumed a gajillion gallons of coffee and water, I was driven to a dance of "must get to the bathroom". But if that hadn't been my primary thought, I would have been smiling at the fact that this funk that has gripped me... This funk that the earthquake is trying to dispose of... This funk that has left a pall over my heart...yeah that funk. If peeing hadn't been my primary thought, I would have been smiling at the fact that I had this funk in a vice grip.
"I will take you down, Funk"
"Oh yeah, you don't have what it takes. 2004 was supposed to be your year and all you did was allow me carte blanche in your emotional playground. You can't take me on in your weak state. I would like to see you try."
"Funk, I am not kidding this time. You better have bought some souvenirs of your time with me cuz, you are going home. Your ass is outta here."
"Ha ha, you think you are so stro..... (cough, wheeze) stron... (cough) str.....(ehh ugh, gurgle)"
"That is what I thought"
And sitting here at work as my boss burns his collection of cds into his IPod, as I hold the dirty remains of the funk in my hand-sanitized fingers, I drop the funk in the garbage waiting for the next jolt of Operation Shake Up.
This time, I will leave my eyes open.
Bring it on!
Back to regularly scheduled programming
After having a very open monologue with Ennui and then just relaxing at home while putting together my photo album in what I will call Round 2 of Social-Whir-No-Show, I felt much better.
I am back to listening to music. That feels better than the void that the tv has been filling. Ugh. I get so bored with tv and yet I get addicted.
When I just turn it off and listen to music, it feels as if I passed on dessert or cut a coupon or went for a long walk.
Ah
There is a Sondre Lerche song that keeps ringing in my head.
You Know So Well.
"Use every chance you've been given
she is told, but it doesn't make her smile
She has no need to be perfect
She knows too well
things are easy to tell
I have said what I thought you should know
but you never seem to recognize my face"
At work, we are having a health fair. Which means we get free chair massages. Oh yeah.
I feel 100% better than I did earlier this week.
I shouldn't ponitficate when I am PMSing or when I am tired..
Tuesday night, we gathered at the Red Lion Tavern to celebrate Evren's birthday just before his tour. It was so hot in there. Jax was barely able to keep her eyes open due to jetlag. She had just gotten back from Bulgaria. It was fun though. I like that place. I especially like that the ratio of men (cute men) to women is in my favor. If I had been feeling more bold, I would have responded to some of the looks I was getting. But alas, I was energy sapped from lack of sleep from Montreal.
I tried to drink a giant beer but I am not a beer fan as much as a wine fan. It was thick and honey tasting. I could only drink half of it. If I am not going to over eat chocolate, I am definitely not going to replace those calories with a drink I really don't like that doesn't even give me a buzz.
I am sure that my german bro-in-law, would have a fit with my distaste for it, but he also dislikes my taste in music and thinks my basketball knowledge is disgraceful.
Mark gave Evren a freeze dried ice cream sandwich for the tour. We weren't even sure if you needed to add water or just open the package. Where do you shop for freeze dried dairy delights? I must ask him where he got that.
Last night, I called many people I needed to catch up with. All of them were vm. That is kind of a bummer but it means that I can look forward to catching up with them this weekend probably.
I called Melis and Evan who are moving next week back east. I will really miss them. There goes a cool new friend and writing partner.
I realized yesterday morning that whenever I meet someone who engages me creatively or allows me the outlet, they move away. It happened with Tony too. He always gave me carte blanche for my voice work and then he and Tanya moved to Florida right before the Hurricane extravaganza that pelted the south east coast this summer.
Instead of being bummed that I am losing a creative collaborator, I am realizing that they were put in my life to guide and teach me and that I can take the good from them to do my work in a solo capacity.
And they can move on to do what they need to fulfill themselves.
I will miss them, but I wish them well.
I called Maddy whose birthday just passed.
I missed a call from Christy last night.
I left a vm for Jeremy who is out of town. Come home Jeremy so we can chat and gossip.
Oh, Sam, I really need to call you. It has been too long. I think I called you last year when I was dealing with Patrick. And Harry.
I don't remember. See, it has been way too long; I can't even remember.
Debs, I left you a vm awhile back. Hope you are doing well.
Candace, come to LA. You need to let your Lil' Ricky out and watch him wreak havoc on the glitteratti.
Today is National Make-Out Day.
Tonight, I will go out with the girls in search of men to help me honor this day.
Like the song says, "Use every chance you've been given"
And that is what I am gonna do.
Breathe in.
So the bowing out of the social whir is underway.
I passed up an event last night to write, meditate and go to bed early.
Sounds boring.
But it felt amazing.
I lit candles and really focused on my breathing.
I let words just pour out of me.
This morning I wrote in my journal.
Except for this blog, I never write in a journal.
I have always felt so self conscious writing in a journal, but this morning, it was natural and prolific.
I came to a realization about why I choose what I choose, why I live why I live, why I accept what I accept.
I had to go to an ugly place to see it. But I see it now.
I know what I have to do.
It doesn't change that I react with knee jerkness at old habits. But since I am now aware of it, I can change it. And I am changing it.
Breathe out.
I am cutting out self medication.
I am cutting out self deprication.
I am cutting out unrealistic expectation.
I am embracing something else.
I am embracing a release of control towards all that has held me back.
Breathe in
I came to work this morning with a sense that this is my last day alive.
It made all the trivial shit seem so dumb.
It made all the drama of not forgiving people their errors seem so banal.
It made any emotion other than joy seem like a waste.
This isn't an easy transition.
But if I have nothing else, I have the power of choice.
And I am choosing a new way.
Breathe out
On your marks
Get set
Go!
I just realized that I am stunted in my personality. I am like a 15 year old girl. I think that even when I was little (like 4 years old) I was like a 15 year old girl. That made me mature. But as I passed 15 and went onwards and upwards, staying 15 made me immature.
I am trying to figure out how to remedy the sitch, since I don't see me having a realistic life until I come to terms with how I deal with things.
I relate to women like a mother figure and I relate to most men as a mother or a daughter. But never an equal.
That must change. Through talking with some good peeps, I realized that I need to get my power back. Or realize I have never lost it; only misplaced it.
How do you fix it without the proper tools? I will let you know when I figure it out.
Until then, I wrote you all a note and passed it to the front of the class, but don't open it unless it has your name on it. That would be like sooo embarrassing if someone else read it.
Gawd.
So 2 weeks after I go to Ensenada, I am off to Montreal.
My new me of travel-girl is off to a splendid start.
Carrie and I hop on the red eye Thursday night. I am seated next to a neurologist from BH and he is the most pleasant person I have met in a long long time. He is probably one of the easiest people to strike up a conversation with. If you are ever seated next to him on a plane, you will know what I mean. We all tried to sleep but alas, were unable to.
That flight was hell. It was crowded and full and Carrie and I were uncomfy due to our long legs spilling out into the aisle and getting hit with the wheels of the coffee cart.
Once we got on the flight from Toronto to Montreal, we were praying that the flight wouldn't be full. It looked like Carrie would get the aisle all to herself. Until a tall blond guy emerged with his buddies. his buddies were sitting in the back. He was from some other country but we couldn't discern where. Carrie got up for him to sit down in his window seat. Then not 2 seconds later, he stood up and said in a very low growl, "Move". Carrie having just sat back down, got back up and started laughing. He wanted to be with his friends. Oh the poor lonely big man. In his stead was a couple with like 100 shopping bags with them. Carrie just gave me this look from across the aisle like..."What the hell?"
I couldn't help but smile.
We landed in Montreal Friday morning. Carrie's bro (the neuroscientist) picked us up. His loft apartment made are mouths drop once we entered his abode.
We got our beds ready to take a nap. He went to work. The plan was to take a short nap. The reality that followed was that we woke up simultaneously at 4pm. "Shit! We are missing the day" we both said.
We got up and got ready to walk around the Plateau area. Neither of us had eaten or showered for like I don't even know how long at this point. But it didn't matter. The air was crisp and clean. The people were amazingly friendly. I got to use my french. I loved being there. I loved feeling a season on my skin other than hot and not so hot (maybe rainy).
The leaves were still colorful. The food was divine.
We were going to meet her brother for dinner. We ended up walking through the sex area. We really didn't know it until every storefront had naked ladies showing off their cousins and sex toy shops had vibrators in the windows looking like easter egg displays. The vibrators were on too and so it caught our eyes. We couldn't stop laughing. We stopped in for a drink at this little pub. It was wonderful. All the people coming from work stopping in for a drink and some conversation.
We finally met up with her brother for dinner. We walked back to his apartment in very cold winds in our faces. I was relishing it.
The rest of the trip was more of the same gushing.
"Isn't this great?"
"I don't want to leave"
"I could never eat again and be okay"
We strolled up and down St Denis and St. Lawrence. We went through Old Montreal. We ate and ate and drank and drank.
We had dinner with a neuro surgeon and his fiance (she had just moved here from Miami).
The neuro surgeon had studied in Germany at the same university my sister went to. It was a wonderful evening talking about movies, politics, Castro, culture clashes, languages, food, etc.
I went to the Olympic Park and saw the pool and went to the top of the tower and got an eyeful of Montreal from the sky.
I rode the subway and tried to make all transactions in french.
I strolled through the botanical gardens alone and had a wonderful amount of thinking time. My heart is a little heavy at the moment.
I feel very displaced in a way. My present and my past are coming to the forefront to present me with the road options to my future.
When you have that much time to think, you really delve deep. At least I do. Who was I when I started traveling? Have I learned anything? If I could do things differently with what I know now with regards to relationships and how seriously I took myself, would I do it differently?
I had many dreams. I felt like I was in Europe which added to the obscure emotions I was feeling of nostalgia. We blasted REM and U2 and the Cure on her brother's stereo. In the loft, you could watch the wind playing with pedestrians and bike riders below our window on the 3rd floor. Listening to the music and watching from a safe temperature, I felt like I did as a little kid being a voyeur in Holland from my Omi's balcony.
It was a magical trip. I tried to figure out what I was going to do with my leftover canadian change. Not enough to change back but still some money. I have loonies, twoonies, a five and several pennies.
I was ready to come home too. The cold does a number on your skin and nails if you aren't used to it, which I am not.
The flight home seemed endless. Maybe because I sat next to a horribly creepy man who was a venture capitalist. He looked at Carrie across the aisle and as he stroked his face, he said, "Your friend braids her hair very well". Ick. CREEP-EEEEE!
Once we landed in Hellay, Carrie's face showed that she didn't much like the 65 degrees weather. I missed the cold as well but was happy to get back to my life in a way.
When I visited my sister 2 years ago, I really didn't want to come home. Carrie was probably feeling that same pull from missing her brother as well.
We hopped in a cab with another creepy guy. He kept saying, "Are you sure you don't want to go to Long Beach? You don't like me. You don't want me to make money".
He had a thick accent.
He bugged the crap out of me because he would even interrupt us to moan, "I need money. I need to make money. You don't want me to make money."
Finally I said, "We are such a short fare that you can go back and the next person will probably need to go to Long Beach and you will have made a lot of money."
"But I want to go to bed," Eeyore said,
"Well, then this is just a shit day for you, I guess", I finally said.
Ugh he was annoying.
We got home around 11:30pm.
My cat was very happy to see me. Ennui did a great job watching her but she was happy to sleep next to me at night. She purred the whole night (which even though is flattering, is also sleep disruptive).
I woke up this morning and it all feels like a big dream.
Except for my canadian pennies as proof I was there.
Montreal baby. I highly recommend it.
I voted this morning.
It felt good.
As I was looking for parking to enter the church near my house, I noticed everyone carrying their sample ballots. It was cool to see that we were all heading to the same location. We all gave knowing nods and raised eyebrows of acknowledgement to passing the voters-to-be and the just-voted.
The disorganization that occurred inside was daunting.
People from all walks of life (some very popular in the neighborhood, some only surfacing to vote every so often) comingling into a space none of us probably go was bizarre.
The colors of the district map were opposite of what they should have been. People standing in the lines for orange (representing your zipcode or street block) were sent to green after they had been there for a half hour.
A-L and M-Z lines were not clearly marked once you were at your appropriate color.
The man that was helping me clearly felt obliged to help out everyone not in my line.
It was mayhem.
It was interesting to see the reactions of people too. Everyone clearly wanted to be there. It was a situation for MTV's Boiling Point. You know that certain people would have just left and said "forget it" had it been a grocery line or an ATM line.
No one left this time.
No one wanted to.
Everyone felt the importance of voting.
I felt it too. But I also felt the importance of being part of a community. There was an italian man, Gino, who was there to support his wife voting (since he couldn't). He had his 2 beautiful kids with him as he was bringing coffee to his wife. Everyone seemed to know him. The lady in front of me was recounting to her son that not too many years ago, he would go to play days at Gino's house and Gino was the most fun. He would play guitar for the kids and make pizzas and do crafts.
Aside from the chaos, it was really nice to see people you see around your neighborhood. People you nod at as they walk their dog in the evening, or the video store clerk who always tells me the best place to get cheap Chinese food (if only I could remember the place in hunger moments) or the cute boys I never knew were in my neighborhood.
There were the recluses too. They were interesting to see because you know they probably had to take a pill to deal with the anxiety of being out in the world for an hour.
The guy in charge reminded me of Steve Martin. Handsome and a little constricted but funny.
He was already stressing but trying to remain calm. They all were. Except for the lady handing out "I VOTED" stickers. She showed no sign of being anxious. She was happy to be hanging out there at 7:00am.
"Did I hand you a sticker, sweetie?" she asked me a couple of times.
"Yes thank you"
"Oh good. You take care now, honey."
She was so cute. Old and cute. And the fact that they gave her the job that required the least stress was nice since she was a required balance sitting next to the guy who seemed to have ants in his pants.
I felt for the people working the booths. They had a long day in store for them. I was sending them good vibes. Hopeful vibes that they would work out the kinks before too long.
When I finally got to vote, I wasn't prepared that my pokey voter thingy was ink. I was like, "Huh? What the ...?"
But I figured it out. Especially since the front of the ballot said "Ink Ballots". Hmmm, me thinks I am a clever one.
Once I got to work, everyone had stories about where they had gone to vote. Some in a garage of someone's house, some a church, a post office, a school.
I love hearing the stories.
I didn't stress this morning because this election is very unique and I want to remember all the moments and hold them in my memory. Whether they be that the lines were long and out of order, or that the debates were mostly heard by me via the car radio, or that my boss kept telling me which states were going to which candidate this afternoon as I was trying to concentrate on a project that he gave me, or that my sister and I conference called my dad and told him that voting day was tomorrow (we are voting opposite him). He later told me that it was the same message he was going to leave me. Ha. Crazy brains think alike. All of this I want to hold.
I love this. Today was special. Everyone had one goal and that was to make their position heard, count, made known. One will win and the other won't. It might be legit and it might not be. Whatever happens in the upcoming hours and days as the dust settles, well, it will be dealt with as it comes.
But today, I felt like I was part of something larger than myself and it felt good.
Good Morning November!
I cannot believe a year has passed. I just can't.
I cannot believe that life is going this quickly. Luckily, I am enjoying it more and consistently than I have in past years.
This weekend was jam packed with Halloweeny stuff.
Sat night, I went to Mads's house to meet up with our group of the evening. I was a cowgirl, Mads a hippie, Jazzy was Punky Brewster, Bethany and Mike were like Temptress and Tempter people. We were going to the M Bar to meet up with Evren, Simone and Sheila. I don't know Sheila but I know the other two and they are cool so Sheila, probably was too.
Sheila knew the band that was playing at the M Bar, the New Ward Healers. It was Alt Country and I really liked their sound.
Turns out, Evren and crew hadn't arrived there yet. In fact, they had missed the Healers's show altogether. So once they arrived at the M Bar, we dashed to the party that Sheila knew about.
It was an amazing party. It was decorated entirely like Tim Burton movies. The front was Nightmare before Xmas and Beetlejuice and the backyard was Ed Wood and Edward Scissorhands. Which reminds me...it was Halloween several years ago when I did my first play as an adult. The play was Ed Wood. I played Kathy Wood. It was at a theater run by a registered sex offender (which I didn't know at the time) and it was a one show only. The script had changes to it the day of the performance. My lines were all rewritten. It was almost as cheezy and disorganized as the real Wood's movies were.
But I digress. The party was a lot of fun. We mingled and took pics. The band we had seen at the M Bar showed up at the party. They were pretty cool.
After that, we went to another party and then on to Swingers for some eats.
I was going to get the stuffed grilled cheese because I never get it and this felt like a perfect party night to do so. But once it came time to order, I ended up going with the BBQ tofu sandwich which was delish. Bethany looked at me like TOFU, yuck.
She said, "For dessert, there is some dirt over there".
She was a big grumpy grump but I laughed and said, "Let me at it" and pretended to get up with my spoon.
It became increasingly cold as we sat outside. A gale wind blew up (okay, not really, but I was freezing, so it might as well have been one).
After we left Swingers, we went by the 7-11 for Bethany and mike to pick up cigarettes. In the parking lot was a group of teenagers who were Armenian or Persian. I couldn't really tell. It was like 3:00am and they were just all standing out there hanging out. None of them were in costumes. They were all dressed very conservatively. Mads said, "I now know what animals in the zoo feel like" as we dealt with their stares.
Mike got out of the car to go in to buy the cigs and said, "They are really all men in the car". Now they stared at us more.
"Prove it. Show us your titties" the guys yelled as the girls were eager to see as well.
We were like, "Um no. We are women. We don't need to prove it"
And as Girls gone wild as they had just been, then they were like,
"Well, I hope you haven't been drinking. Don't drink and drive."
Thanks teeny boppers who were just asking to see our mammaries.
I assured them that as the designated driver, I was sober and that we were all fine in our judgment. They almost seemed robotic in their answers. The main girl doing the talking couldn't have been more than 17 and the main boy was probably 19. When we asked them what they were doing out, they said they just came back from dinner. Dinner? It was almost breakfast.
Okay, don't judge, I had to remind myself. But It was a weird little experience.
I think I got home around 4am (but with the time change it was 3)
I slept in until 1pm (but with the time chance was noon). I blinked several times to make sure. I thought it said 7 instead of 1. I never sleep that late. But it sure felt good to.
I did some errands and met up with Mads to go shopping a little. I am looking for this linen spray that Ross carries that smells soooo good.
I can't seem to find it. The one that I did find at the Western and Hollywood Ross, looked like someone had been drinking from it which I don't recommend. SO I didn't buy it, natch.
Mads and I went to Tuk Tuk for some wanton soup. We felt our throats were starting to show signs of a cold. Jazzy joined us and we laughed and reminisced about last night's party.
I then helped Mads move some books to her new apartment which is adorable.
The plan last night was to continue with the day's festivities at Santa Monica Blvd first and then onto another party.
I just didn't have it in me. I needed to regroup. I needed to relax. I needed to do laundry.
But all I did was go home and fall asleep early. Which I needed. Which was great. At 2am, I heard some revelers outside screaming,
"Bitch, don't tell me what to do"
"Bitch, I didn't call you bitch, but now I will"
"Bitch shut up"
"Bitch you shut up"
I think it went on and on, but I fell back to sleep glad it wasn't time to get up yet.
This morning, someone was cruising down the street with loudspeaker from his car telling us to vote for Bush. But it was all in spanish. I looked out the window to see if I could see it, but all I saw was a girl walking her little pug and they stopped to look at the loudspeaker car I couldn't see.
With the time change, I felt that I had all the time in the world this morning to wake up and get my self all novembery. Which is weird because the Santa Ana winds are blowing and the temp is like gonna be 80.
Goodbye October, Hello November.
Now, if only Astrologyzone.com will load its november horoscope, I could see what I have in store.