"Kirsten's road to the Oscars was bumpy...several nights, she allowed her love of chocolate to overtake her senses. She also allowed questionable choices in dating to sidetrack her...but eventually she made it here and didn't trip on her dress..."
What was up with that woman whose voice who would say that stuff as the winner would walk up to the stage?
Weird.
Anyway, fabulous weekend leading up to my birthday (which is Monday).
Relatives took me out on Saturday and my friends gathered for a brunch for me at fabulous Claire's on Sunday. Lots of loud conversation, lots of drink and oh my god ...the carbs. Lovely lovely carbs took over her kitchen table. it was delish.
It was a wonderful way to kick off what I like to call Kiki's birthday month.
And the Oscars were tonight. And the weather was amazing.
The only thing that would make it even more perfect is that awesome husband I have been building in my back yard and the million dollars I am awaiting to win from the Lottery and seriously, everything would be perfect and in place for the life I ordered.
Life is good.
That would be how I would end my Oscar speech.
"Life is good"
A little cliche. A little trite. Not very clever. But hell, I just won the Oscar so I don't care.
They don't say, "And the winner is...." anymore. They say, "And the Oscar goes to..."
which kind of throws off how I was going to end this entry.
Which was to say, "And the winner is....meeeeee!"
But since that doesn't accurately represent what they say, I will just repeat, "Life is good...because I am a winner. Ha!"
So not a day after I was telling Jazzy how much I am glad that I don't go places alone anymore, I go somewhere alone and had a blast.
Let me back up...
I have always done and gone where I wanted. If there was a show, or a movie or live music and none of my friends were available, I went by myself. And I would gear up for the discomfort by pretending that I am sooo comfortable all by myself.
But when I did that, I gave off an energy that screamed, "Ack....Discomfort Alert!!!!"
And people steered clear.
And I would be friendly to people but they looked at me with that look like a homeless person has just asked them for money.
Averted gaze. Polite grin.
And I always thought these people were rude.
Until recently when I saw what it looked like in someone else.
This particular person (whom we will call Simon) is an eccentric to say the least.
Simon is friendly and attractive. But assumes he isn't invited to things so he enters into situations where he is already bringing an awkward energy. He will sit alone and work very hard to appear comfortable. I can't really explain how it looks. Just trust me...it is painful to watch.
I vowed never to be like Simon again.
And for awhile, I haven't had to be.
My friends have been available for many things this past year and me trying to pretend that I am oh so cool and independent while masking my insecurities hasn't had to rear itself.
But then my friend Tess Rafferty, who has helped me immensely of late, had a show at the Improv last night.
I told her I would go to see her set.
But it was at 10pm. And after step aerobics, I was beat. But I took a shower and headed down towards Melrose anyway to show my support.
I sent out an email to my friends with a last minute notice disclaimer to see who would join me. But no one responded. So I knew I would be solo.
But I know some of Tess's friends, so I didn't think it would be an issue.
I get to the Improv and see Tess. I ask if her friends are here. She didn't think so.
Hmmmm.
I don't panic.
In my head, they are there. In my head, I am not alone (that wasn't supposed to make me sound as crazy as it does when I re-read that).
I am seated by myself at a big table...alone. I don't see any of Tess's friends that I know.
But then something happens. I make myself comfortable.
I don't feel weird at all.
I kind of like it that I am alone. It brings out possibilities that I never consider when I am so in my head convincing myself that I am fine.
But this time I really am doing fine.
I smile as I paruse the room to see who else is out on this Fat Tuesday. Some groups are adorned in Mardi Gras beads. Some groups are loud, some are big, some are small.
A guy gets seated across from me.
We smile at each other.
But say nothing.
And then the show starts.
And right off the bat, I am laughing.
The guy across from me knows people at the table in front of us but he doesn't move closer.
I put my feet across the chair in front of me and make myself at home.
He does the same.
The comedy was one of the best line ups I have seen in awhile.
Bill Devlin, KP Anderson (of the Soup), Tess Rafferty (of the soup), Greg Fideler
(of the Soup), Chris Porter (Last Comic Standing), Dave Attell, Sally Mullenns were just some of the comics that had me howling out loud most of the night.
I ordered a diet coke. Guy across from me ordered a Sprite.
When the bill came, he looked at me and said,
"They put both our drinks on the same tab. I guess they think we are together."
"Oh"
"So I will pay if you think you will give me a blow job later." Obviously another comic.
"Sure, no problem. I actually told the waitress to do that"
"Oh cool. Well as long as we are on the same page."
Smirks.
And then we each paid and said nothing more to each other.
But it wasn't awkward. Nothing about the evening was awkward.
I couldn't find Tess after the show so I left.
I walked past the comics smoking outside and headed back to my car.
It was 12:30 and I was filled with a ton of energy.
Instead of an upset stomach which I usually have when pretending I am fine being alone.
I didn't have to pretend last night.
I was fine.
And alone.
But I wasn't lonely.
Which made me realize I had left my Simon-ish ways back in 2005 or whenever the last time I tried this was.
I love when progress shows hard evidence that you have improved.
Weird dreams abound.
Last night I dreamt that I was trying to take my SATs as the age I am now. I was driving around with some teenagers who also had to take theirs.
They dropped me off at my location and drove on to theirs which was across town.
At my location, I realized I wasn't prepared at all.
I had forgotten my #2 pencil.
But someone opened the student store and was allowing us to take free stuff for the test.
So I grabbed 2 #2 pencils, an eraser and a bottle of water. I went to stand in line and then realized...I don't need to take the SATs. And called my mom to come pick me up.
What the hell?
I woke up very confused. Not very happy either.
But in real life, I had a fabulous weekend.
Very relaxing.
Calls and emails from past dates. What is in the air?
I am sending out HOTness vibes I imagine. HA HA.
Went ice skating with Leigh and her niece and nephew at the Culver Ice Rink on Sunday.
Leigh and I used to go there in Junior High. We once saw Tommy Howell there. He goes by a more official C Thomas Howell now.
Turns out, I can't skate. It took me way too long to get around that rink. I was wall hugging. My first 5 seconds on the ice, I fell very gracefully. A man was filming his wife and she was right in front of me. I noticed he filmed my fall and that made him crack up. When he saw me come around again, he yelled, "You can DO IT!"
I almost fell again trying to show him I wouldn't fall this time.
I also saw a guy who several years ago wanted to have me come over while his wife was out of town (I didn't go). Mads and I met him at a restaurant and he laid on the flirting with us pretty heavily. I have seen him in a ton of commercials since then and at my gym. He doesn't remember me. He was at the ice rink with his wife and child for a kid's birthday. His wife was smiling. Which made me wonder if she knows what a dog she has for a husband or if she lives in blissful denial.
Went to see Evil Maria at the M Bar on Sat night. The Belvederes opened for them. That band is really fun. Evil Maria was great. Went with Tams and Jazzy. Saw the usuals there.
Also hung with Claire and we drank ourselves into blissful denial. Or maybe just bliss.
I love her place.
We ate decadent food and gabbed. I think I did most of the gabbing. I swear a bubble emerged over Claire's head that said, "Is she doing a monologue?"
Also went to belly dance and learned a new routine. Everyone's coin skirts were coming loose and coins were dropping with every hip pop and shimmy.
But it was a good routine.
Tonight, I am going to the Improv to see Tess Rafferty perform.
With all this activity, I wonder why the hell I am dreaming about the SATs.
Tonight I am going to try and dream myself a million dollars richer with an amazing lover.
At least I will wake up smiling.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I get out of my own way.
And in those times, a wonderful thing happens: I become peaceful.
Saturday, I met Jazzy and Denise at the Hotel Cafe to see the Brook Lee Catastrophe .
I have tried to see him like 4 times before and I always miss him. Different reasons as to why.
But this particular night, I was able to see him.
I got to the bar and found Jazzy and Denise. I was wearing heels (ha - I accidentally just typed "hells" which by the end of the evening was quite appropriate for the state my feet were in) and a confident attitude, along with my amazing perfume.
I chatted with the girls about "The Secret" which I watched this weekend.
Denise didn't believe. Jazzy wasn't sure what to believe.
The band was great. Jazzy knew Brook from high school, so I thought her praise for their music was biased so I never paid the music much heed. In my life, everyone is an actor, photographer, musician or writer, so I support. But not because I love the art they produce, but because I support the artist. But as it also happens in my life, I am surrounded by talented people so the loving the art becomes something that is very easy to do while supporting the artist.
Complicated sentence above aside, I became a convert.
After the show, we headed to the Burgundy Room. My dogs were soooo barking.
I grabbed a stool from two guys who graciously relinquished it to me. Denise stuck what she thought was tissue in her ears due to the loud music. I won't tell you what it really was that she had in her ears.
It was a fun night.
Followed by a wonderful next day. Starting with brunch with Zappy at Swingers.
Later in the afternoon, Mads and I chewed the fat and a cookie along with delish lattes at Le Pain Quotidien.
We drove through Hancock Park and looked at the beautiful mansions and marveled at how neat the air was becoming for a calm Sunday evening.
Ah peace. How nice to meet your acquaintance.
I have been having strange dreams lately.
But last night's takes the prize.
Mads was planting a garden without borders in the middle of a soccer field and saying it was an art project. So while we were standing near it drinking our lattes, we screamed at anyone who walked through it.
"This is art...get out!"
And resumed drinking our lattes.
The next part of my dream involved me about to sleep with a punk rocker in my teenage bedroom. Before clothing came off, I told him (this guy I have never seen who had a safety pin through his lip) that I had a stuffed nose and had to go get a tissue. Right then, my dad (not my real dad but some weird sitcom version of a dad) walks in and I try and pretend we are studying. Except the boy is already naked. And in my bed.
It took me several minutes this morning when I woke up to not only figure out what day it was, but whose life this was.
Crazy.
Mads and Jazzy have returned from Peru!
I joined them along with Zapato for dinner at Lala's this week.
They got me some cool gifties...one being a scarf made of Alpaca wool.
Which reminds me of the time my mom (after we had just moved to Portland) saw how big our backyard was (compared to the one we left in LA) and thought it would be handy if we had an Alpaca of our very own.
My mom has a loom and likes weaving so it was only a small step for her to want to have an Alpaca in the back yard running around with the dogs to cut down on the cost of buying the wool.
An Alpaca. An Alpaca. Running around with the dogs. Cutting the cost of buying the wool. Are you getting all this?
I am sure my mom thought that we would be all "Frontier House", combing the hair off the llama-esque beast and then we would sit around our wood stove talking about how the NW was sooo much better than stinky old earthquake ridden LA as we separated flea infested hair from poop infested hair for my mom to weave into hats for us.
I tried to remind her that when we go on family trips, that it was much harder to find someone to look after the dogs and cats when you had an Alpaca thrown into the mix.
"Mom, why an Alpaca? Why not sheep?"
"Sheep? What are we farmers?"
"Um....."
"Alpacas are nothing like sheep."
I wasn't sure how I offended her or that there was an elitism to livestock, but in the end, we didn't end up getting an Alpaca.
We got several rabbits. Whose lives we feared were in danger when the next door neighbor mentioned she loved eating rabbits. But she never ate ours. They did get chased by the dogs sometimes...but they all lived long rabbit lives and died natural deaths. And we never used their fur for anything. We fed them carrots and sometimes talked to them.
My mom now has one dog. That is it.
And I have my scarf made of Alpaca wool. An Alpaca that lived somewhere else in someone else's back yard. On another continent.
True story.
So on Sunday, I went to an anti-Super Bowl party.
We ate yummy food, drank yummy drinks and we played WII Boxing, Bowling and Tennis.
I swear to god, I am still sore.
If you were a shut-in and all you ever did was play WII games,
a) you would feel like you have a lot of friends because they compliment you: "good shot" "Great Strike", etc and
b)you would be in great shape.
The guy who owned the tv was nervous that with the boxing, my friends and I were too close and would punch our hand through the screen.
You can all rest assured that didn't happen.
But I did kick the ASS of the guy I was boxing and he fell into a pile and looked broken.
I love computer graphics...so real...and yet...so not.
It really brought out the cartoon super hero in me.
I am glad an ACME anvil didn't really fall on my head.
Because that would really hurt.
Kind of like the way my arms and shoulders really hurt from fake boxing, bowling and tennis.
All I can say is that I did my best.
Sometimes, even when you follow the rules, it doesn't work out.
Especially if the guy is freshly out of a relationship and freaks out because he is falling for you.
I kept my cool.
Gave him space.
Let him take the reigns.
Waited.
Kept my deadlines by which I would cut bait.
Then cut bait.
And I am blue.
But I have nothing to apologize for.
No fatal errors.
And as I did with some of those who kept coming close to what I was looking for, I nursed the wounds and stood back up.
Knowing that a really good guy exists is a start for me.
Thank you all for your comments and your emails.
The words of the amazing singer regina spektor sum it up for me at the moment.
"This is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
Then try and love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm and arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again".
True dat.
I remember the first time I went to the Lava Lounge, I was intimidated by all the bands waiting to play who were hanging out in the parking lot.
I wanted to make it look like I was totally comfortable being there.
Which made it all the more obvious that I wasn't.
As soon as you walked into the place, you felt the red vibe hit you. Everyone looked more attractive in that light.
How many times did I get ready to go to see Evren's band Evil Maria play a show there?
How many times did I meet up with Mads and Jazzy and the crew to sit in one of the dark red tiki themed booths?
I can't even tell you. Lots, though.
Last night was the last time I would see them play there.
The Lava Lounge is closing.
*sniff sniff*
I love that place.
And with Mads and Jazzy in Peru and Jax in Chapel Hill and Zapato busy, our crew wasn't as grand as it should have been to give a proper send off.
The band was supposed to go on at 11:30pm which I was dreading since I had to get up early this morning and I knew that it would be a rough morning.
But I couldn't miss the show.
After work, I went to Pilates and then home, got ready, picked up Sarge and Annette and headed one last time towards the bar.
I hung in the parking lot with the boyz. It was wild - I was a fly on the wall of the boy conversation. I was faking the laughs. I wasn't pretending to fit in. It all just was really fun, laid back and natural.
Pete got me a can of Heineken from the liquor store and we drank out of paper bags.
One of Pete's friends showed up.
A very crazy character.
He was round, loud and very friendly.
He has a concept band that he is putting together.
"I am so bummed that the Lava Lounge is closing. I wanted my band to perform here. We have costumes, and a huge horn section and guest musicians and more costumes...and a light show."
"You HAVE seen the Lava Lounge stage" I said snarkily (It fits 4 musicians comfortably - if that).
"Yeah yeah"
"It sounds like you may need a stadium"
"Yeah, a stadium..." he wistfully began to imagine his concept band in a stadium.
He said he is building his costume. Now, call me crazy, but you build homes, you build relationships, but I have never heard of building a costume unless it invloves a hammer and wood, and you are a robot.
But his costume required building. I don't know if it requires wood or a hammer or is a robot, but I wouldn't be surprised.
The bouncer was preoccupied so I walked right in.
No cover for me.
The band was great. Pete rocked the drums, Jun was awesome on bass and Evren's voice was in good form. The new songs were really tight.
I took in all the visuals of the place. Sealed it into my memory.
Remembered how many times I went when I was giddy.
Remembered how many times I would go to the bathroom to cry over some boy while trying to support the band.
Remembered how awkward I use to feel pretending to fit in and now I felt like I was in my living room all comfy and surrounded by the familiar.
It was a great way to say good-bye to the place.
I will miss you Lava Lounge. Tiki-out man, tiki-out.