I was just waking from a nap after having had a morning of sleeping in and was still a little out of it when I got the text from Reb asking what I was up to.
I rallied my butt to get ready because I knew that a night out with Reb was going to be fun and not without excitement and I wanted to look good.
We ended up at the Woods.
Perfect for what we wanted which was a quiet place to get a drink, exchange gifts and catch up on our lives.
It was perfect.
Until...
the table next to us decided to fold us into their reality.
I have always longed to know what men really think.
I have changed my mind about that.
They were hitting on Reb and then me and then Reb and then me.
And by hitting on, I mean, they tried the whole "everyone thinks I am a player, but all I really want is a serious relationship" routine.
Or the whole bravado of trying to lick and kiss our necks and faces.
Or the whole sit back and wait until your friends are such assholes, you look like the best one in the bunch even if you admit to loving and listening religiously to Power, KISSfm and KROQ. (really? All 3? religiously? I am not superficial about looks but *shiver* I am kind of shallow about tastes. At least one station could have been KCRW or something - I am just sayin').
Happy Hour made it easy to play daddy warbucks but one fellow in their group, Thom, decided he *wouldn't* buy Reb a drink because she probably always gets drinks bought. He would stand out by *not* buying her a drink.
I told him that it wasn't atypical. He was quite typical.
That threw him.
I asked him why he felt so restrictive about compliments.
He said that that is how he stands out.
He stood out alright as the guy wandering the bar trying to hit on other guys' girls as he got progressively wasted.
The "nice" guy at the table (the KISSfm listener) and I were actually having a nice conversation. Reb let him try the pumpkin bread loaf I had made her and he was much nicer to me after that. He asked me to recite the recipe so that he could ascertain if I was able to make more complicated food dishes. I think he was sizing me up for domesticity.
Reb and I would stand guard at the table while one of us either smoked or went to the restroom.
At one point, when she was outside, I was holding down the fort.
I felt like a gazelle in the lion's den. I actually said that out loud.
It would have been more clever if I had said something about being surrounded in the Woods by wolves or something but I wasn't thinking clearly as I actively sipped water to regain some hydration from the happy hour drinks.
I was able to fend them off with my rapier wit and quick hands but the routine was wearing thin. For them too. Noticing they wouldn't score with either of us, they started trying to find out among them who had "picked this crappy place where there was no action".
"I am still sitting here" I squealed.
"Yeah, but you won't go home with us."
"True but you did have a nice conversation with 2 brilliant attractive women."
That wasn't really a good enough reason to call it a good night for them.
When the last guy in their group finished his drink, we said our huggy good-byes.
I was told I smelled nice by the nice guy. They left as loudly as they had come in.
But with fewer hopes about how the night would play out.
Only one in their group was with a woman and it was a gal who thought he had money.
They were laughing about how she would react when she found out he didn't.
Apparently, that poor guy always spends a lot of money on the wrong women and voila, only proves the point of Thom who would never buy a woman a drink, let alone take her out on a date.
Reb and I left shortly after last call and laughed all the way to the car about some of the shit we both had heard from these guys.
"What wankers" she kept repeating.
"True true", I said.
We were now out of the woods of the bar scene.
Were we shocked at some of the crudeness? yes
Were we appalled at some of the ways they thought they could swap us back and forth as currency? Absolutely.
But as I dropped her off in front of her apartment, we swore we would do this again soon.
I guess we are suckers for the adventure of a good story.
The week before Christmas at my work is notorious for being awful.
But seeing as how my work-life has been stressful but not suicide inducing, I guess how horrid it gets took me by surprise.
I got into it with one of my supervisors in a way that I am not sure we can recover from.
We will smile and play nice but all of us should have moved on long ago and we are still there and there is a lot of anger, fear and shame about that. Shame in that we are grateful that in this economy we have a job at a secure company with a lot of benefits.
So Friday, I had a mini-breakdown akin to those I used to have. And I knew this would pass. But the emotions came nonetheless.
In my vulnerability, I said yes to a call I probably wouldn't have normally taken. But I have no regrets about taking the call and all the faldera that followed. It started my weekend out very nicely.
Saturday afternoon, I headed out to Phoenix to visit my dad.
It was the first time in my life that I almost fell asleep at the wheel. I pulled off at the next town and got some coffee and walked around. Crashing would have definitely put a damper on what ended up being one of my favorite visits to my dad's.
I rested a lot, got my dad on Facebook and we hiked. We are not hikers. But it was good.
The first day we went to some mountain that was pretty steep. My dad wanted to go to the top. We asked some fellow hikers how far to the top and they said, "oh, that what you see there, isn't the top. It is beyond that."
I gave my dad a look.
I told him, "we are not going to the top. AND we are not going to the faux top."
I knew that we still had to get down and one thing that my dad and I have in common is an inflated idea that we are better at stuff than we are. We are not hikers and we are not conditioned for this.
Thank god he listened because by the time we reached the bottom, we were EXHAUSTED.
But the next day, we went to another spot that was a valley of cacti. No one else was around.
It was like being on a movie set of the Arizona desert. There weren't even birds chirping.
It was stunning though. And what I like about hiking is being in your head and allowing all the garbage to kind of just fade as you toss it around and listen to your feet crunch on rocks or sticks.
My drive home yesterday was a little longer than expected but it served the same purpose as hiking. As I drove into Palm Springs, the snow on the mountains served as a very odd backdrop to the palm trees and it made whatever I was thinking about sort of fade.
It almost made all the work shit seem like it had all been a dream.
I pulled back into LA and dropped off my stuff and met up with my friend Kevin for coffee at Figaro's.
Kevin has had a rough road this past year and a half and still the man glowed and eeked positivity. He is pretty amazing. We blew each other's minds with the things we discussed. We were both bringing up topics that we each had been separately studying. It was pretty heady. I left our meeting very uplifted and inspired and it made me wonder why I am not feeling that way with most moments and with most people. I made a vow with myself that I would try really hard to be in the moment. it's hard because a) I am a planner and b) there are several things I have fantasized about all my life that when I get a touch of it coming true (love, career, etc), I tend to warp speed forward towards my fantasy view rather than be present with the actual feeling. With Kevin, I felt how good being present was.
Today is Christmas Eve. And I am heading out to the first stop of festivities that will continue throughout the weekend.
I will be glad when the pressure of the holidays is over but I am really trying to enjoy each moment (even traffic and screaming people at Trader Joes today) with a sense of humor.
It may even mean that when I return to work on Monday I may be able to laugh about what happened there too.
It's a season full of miracles so it could happen.
Happy Holidays Everyone!
Tis the season for another story about my mom.
Oh my mom.
A long time ago, I gave her the password to my Kodakgallery account so she could look at photos easier than if I sent them to her. Not sure why she couldn't look at them the normal way but whatever, it was easier to give her the password.
While I was seeing Mr. Blondie, I took several photos of him. None were dirty. But a couple were of him in bed with his head on the pillow looking at me (like just his face) and a few were of him sitting on my couch without a shirt on. There was even one of him and me: him sans shirt and me with a tank top. It's a horrid pic of me. But we're both laughing in the shot and that made me smile.
I put the pics in Kodakgallery so I could send them to him.
My mom has been calling. A lot. And I have been talking to her. A lot.
I call her back when I can.
I email her when she sends me pics. I am not the most prompt but sometimes the pictures she is sending me are of her driveway with frost on the car to show me how cold it was. Or pictures of her dog with antlers on it. Or pictures of her new garage door. Things I don't really feel an urgency to write back quickly on.
So after an email and a phone call from her about how credit card companies are doing dastardly things, I finally called her back last weekend.
She was sending me a little gift and she wanted to make sure I got it. I was to call her Monday when it would arrive.
Monday, she called me to ask if it had arrived.
I called her back.
I wasn't home yet.
So we chatted while I drove for a good half hour.
Then once I got home and found the items she had sent, I called her back to tell her I got them and I loved them. We talked for another 10 minutes or so.
I never told her about all my dating. I have in the past and it makes her nervous and she asks stupid questions and I just don't feel a necessity. I talk about it with my sister sometimes and my dad...although he reads this blog, would rather not know anything.
So my sister calls me to tell me that I should probably change my password to my Kodakgallery since mom is wondering who "this guy" is. She was worried that I was doing porn and sending these photos out to the world.
My sister explained that she has my password and that she and I are the only ones who see them.
Then she went on to say that she never hears from me and who is this guy and am I doing porn?
My sister answers all her questions.
When I hear all this, I am peeved. I debate changing my password, talking to my mom or ...
I decide to just delete the album of Mr. Blondie and me "doing porn" aka sitting on a couch laughing.
My mom notices that the album has been deleted and calls my sister again.
"Does your sister know that I asked about that guy?"
"Yes," my sister says, "and she was quite peeved you were poking around her photos like that."
"What? She GAVE me that password. Now I am insulted. Like I should feel bad for doing anything wrong when I was doing what she knows I have always done. I can't believe SHE is peeved. I AM peeved. I was worried about her doing porn."
"Why don't you call her?"
"Because she NEVER calls me back."
"Well, she said you guys spoke on Monday"
"Barely. just shows that moms get no respect. I am worried about my daughter who I don't even know anymore."
Upon hearing this from my sister, I wonder if I should laugh or cry.
I am peeved beyond belief, but if I am learning anything these days, you can't change anyone.
You just have to figure out how much you want to let in and let the rest go.
I am just grateful that I never put up any nude shots of me on there.
Kidding. I am totally kidding.
The nude shots are not on Kodakgallery; they are on newstands.
Because apparently, I am doing porn now.
I wonder what she will write on the annual Christmas cards this year.
This is going to be an interesting holiday season. Joy to the world.
Thursday night, I went with Mr. Boro to a party.
It was awkward because of the circumstances surrounding him (he is a recent widower).
So half the people there looked at me like, "Who are you?" and the other half thought that we were married.
As a group of his old friends swept him into their midst, I struck up conversations with several cool people.
I realized in meeting these really cool people that I was still not done cleaning house with my relationships.
So this weekend, I ended things with Mr. Boro.
He is looking for a surrogate, and I suppose I was looking for a distraction with him so as not to fall for Mr. Blondie.
But since Mr. Blondie and I were through, it didn't make much sense to be a surrogate for anyone when I could clean house, rethink things and start over with people whose beginnings didn't have so many limits attached.
So, there I was.
Independent again.
Saturday, I went shopping with Leigh and we had a wonderful time. It was just what the doctor ordered.
We hung out, chatted, shopped, ate good but bad-for-you food and laughed a lot.
Sunday provided me with the same kind of joie-de-vivre as Saturday.
I went to Travel Town in Griffith Park to attend KABoss's son's birthday party in a train.
It was a nice afternoon, filled with the kind of crispness that coincided with the Christmas decorations to make you get excited for the holidays.
After an hour, it was time for me to leave.
I headed to Eagle Rock to the Eagle Rock Plaza. Big mistake.
I know Eagle Rock is a hipster, home-owning paradise but I gotta say, there is something about Colorado Blvd that brings a bad shiver in my skin. There is a loneliness about that town that other, similar towns don't provide. I have no idea what it is.
And the mall was even worse.
I began to feel lonely in that sad, crowded mall while holiday music piped in to let you know they were trying to pretend they weren't so little. That you too could do your holiday shopping here and love it. Except that you wouldn't love it. Especially if you're me.
Maybe only if you're me.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
My mood lightened as I headed back on the 2 freeway towards Los Feliz.
Yes, it was definitely Eagle Rock that had soured my mood.
Once home, I got ready to go to Spaceland with My Neighbor Lisa.
Friendly Fires was headlining.
I jumped on Lisa's party train and tagged along.
The show was great.
The second band, Funeral Party, revved up the energy in the room.
When Friendly Fires came on, the audience was all but ready.
The energetic crowd and the awesome energy of the band swirled together into a mix of great beats, great vocals and lots of swaying and jumping from everyone involved.
I loved people watching. I loved silently making up stories about the couples and the singles.
Looking at lovey-dovey pairs, would have made me a little blue considering my week, but I actually smiled at the thought of love working out for some; eventually for moi.
The band ended after about an hour and left us on a very powerful song.
As Lisa and I headed back to the car, we couldn't stop jabbering about how this is one of those concerts where you will be able to later say, I saw this band before they were huge the way people talk about seeing Beck perform at local haunts.
And then we laughingly headed into 7-11 to find some chips.
On the way back towards our hood, Lisa demonstrated one of her talents, which is to scream at the top of her lungs and hold it forEVER! Very impressive as she rolled down the passenger side window and screamed her way down Sunset.
When she was done, it was my turn to show off my mad yodeling skillz. Oh yeah, we were a pair of show-offs of weird talents.
And as I plopped my butt down on the couch upon my return home, I realized that it is hard to make decisions that are good in the long term but not the short term.
And every day you move away from the pain, you actually get exponentially stronger.
And when you are stronger, it is easier to maintain the work you did during the "cleaning house" phase.
It's all baby steps.
KABoss and I have been having one of those weeks, working on one of those projects. The kind where by the end of the day, you look ugly. Like Sideshow Bob ugly. Like, how did my hair end up like that-ugly.
But to lighten the mood, she made me cds of her favorite french music.
Oh la la.
I am listening to one of them now. Je les aime.
She titled all three cds, "Foux de Fa Fa".
I love KABoss. That made me laugh. We share a love of la musique francais and the Flight of the Conchords.
Tonight is the AFI part. Mr. Boro is having a time getting out here to meet me.
Hopefully, he will work it out.
Meanwhile, I enjoyed my brief stint of losing weight. I look thinner today and this is the exact day when my appetite has come back full force.
Poo.
And I got my raw voice reel back from the voice over class I took.
I may be able to do scratch recordings here at work.
Cool.
Or as the french say, "Tres cool"
I went out on a date with a guy who went to Yale, or Harvard, I can't remember now. He was aspiring to be a comedy writer.
Mr. Funny was younger - like 27 years old.
He liked that I was older and was strangely not a cougar.
We had a great time on our one date.
At the end of it, he said, "Do you want to do this again?" and I said, "yes"
He lightly kissed me on the lips.
We parted.
I drove away thinking, "Finally, a normal date with a normal guy. Not sex driven, not painful, but fun and light and with a potential for something more, new and fresh."
Sigh
Beam
Sigh
This was right around the time I started seeing Mr. Blondie, Mr. Artist, and Mr. F.
I thought they would be the flakes that I interimly dated while Mr. Funny and I started to have the dates that would be more fulfilling.
Mr. Funny called me 2 days after our date and we planned to meet the following week.
The day of the date, I receive a call from him.
"Kirsten, I am kind of low energy today, so I was wondering if we can meet next week. If you can't, then I will try and make it tonight."
Naturally, I told him to get some rest and we would make it for another night.
My schedule was kind of filling up but I thought I could make some time to see him again. The first date had gone so well, I really wanted to give the second won a fighting chance.
So he calls me mid-week and we make plans for Sunday night.
He wanted Monday but I couldn't and I suggested Tuesday and he was like, "That seems so far away, I would like to see you sooner than Tuesday. How about Sunday?"
Sunday it was.
I had another day time date that Sunday which ended up being a bust.
So I was really looking forward to Mr. Funny coming over and us watching some Hitchcock movies that evening.
Except I hadn't heard from him.
So I called him.
I get a text: "K, I have a friend in town and I thought he was leaving later in the week, but he is leaving tomorrow. Can we schedule for another night? If not, I will try and make it tonight."
Grrrr.
I wrote him back: Go with your friend. Not sure about rescheduling. My week is looking kind of busy. But it'll work out if it's supposed to.
He texts back: K, I still think you are cool. I will definitely call you.
Two weeks later, I get an email from him: K, how did we go so long without seeing each other again. I really want to have a second date with you. How about it? You game?
I wrote back: Um maybe. What days are you avail?
No response.
Until a week and a half ago. I get another email: K, I think I may have dropped the ball. How is it we haven't gone out again? We should have at least gone out again at this point. I think it was Halloween and friends in town but I really want to see you if you are still interested. If you aren't, I understand, but I hope you still do.
I wrote back: Hey Ball Dropper! We can try this one more time. You just suggest the day and stuff and we will work it out.
He writes back: Yes! How is Monday?
Me: Monday is great. What time and where? I will be there with bells on.
Him: Yeah, wear the bells. Looking forward to seeing you.
So, no word from him and then come that Monday, I get a text from him:
K, I hurt my back over the weekend. Can you do it another night? If not, I will try and make it.
I had to laugh out loud at this point. I was totally being punk'd by a punk.
Was I some kind of social experiment to see how long he could do this to me?
I wrote back: Feel better.
I wrote him off.
So this Monday after I had my emotional departure from Mr. Blondie, I get a frigging vm from Mr. Funny.
"K, Do you want to meet tonight? There is a movie playing down the street from you. We could meet there and then grab a bite to eat afterwards."
I wrote him an email: Mr. Funny, although we had a great first date, I don't think a second one is in the cards. All the best to you.
And do you know what he wrote back?
"K, that's too bad. Even though you said it's not in the cards, I don't believe in astrology. Ha."
He is so funny.
That is why I named him that.
Eye Roll
Sigh. Not the kind of sigh I made after our first date.
Yup. The pickins are amazing here in LA.
I am wearing a cute dress today.
My hair, on the other hand went another way.
Another way from cute.
Hard to get it just right.
On the good side, I did better in boxing last night than usual.
Tonight, I am trying kick boxing.
My appetite is small and I seem to be drawn to the liquid ease of slim fasts and the like.
Hey, this works better than no-carb.
Spoke to Mr. Buro last night and we had a nice chat.
He is taking me to a party with AFI alumns on Thursday. That should be fun.
Now about this freaking hair....
So it is Monday after a 4 day weekend.
I had looked forward to it and it did not disappoint.
Thanksgiving was pure bliss.
Reb's place shined with the kind of merriment you are jealous of if you hear it from the outside.
I was on the inside.
And it was good.
She has some great style too. Her place was cozy and fun and warm. I felt like I was in a genie's bottle party.
Nice people, nice wine, great sunset photoshoot on the roof.
Jazzy and I left just as food was about to be consumed.
Too bad. The food looked amazing.
But we had places to be.
Namely, Mads's and Steven's.
Their dinner was also wonderful.
I did stay for that food and yum yum yum.
I never did get any dessert this holiday because I also left Mads's to go to yet another spot.
Oy.
Hard to be popular. Better for my hips but not for my lips that were smacking at the sight of all the sweet goodness.
This weekend, my creative juices were a-flowing with my camera. It seemed every experience was one big photo-op.
Yea!
Since I hadn't really been inspired of late, I felt relieved.
Took some shots of Leigh's family as well when I saw them.
Hung out with Mr. Boro. He was very sweet. Still, my guard is up with him.
But as I did with Mr. Blondie in the beginning, I will ride it out until it doesn't feel right. Which could be any day at this point in my emotional thermometer.
Got several calls from exes. I guess this is the time when it happens. Everyone is in a nostalgic mood.
All the attention started to unnerve me a little. I got restless and couldn't wait to see Mr. Blondie.
We went to a show at the Echoplex and saw the Parson Red Heads. I loved them. Mr. Blondie is a very interesting man to be out in public with.
I enjoy watching people watch him.
I enjoy being out with him.
When they announced their last song, he whispered something to me about getting out of there. His exact words were very flattering and my tummy flipped.
I am crazy about this guy.
But alas, he wants many and I want one.
So this morning, realizing I couldn't NOT bring it up, I had the talk I was dreading with Mr. Blondie about me wanting more. More than he can give. I told him I would get hurt if we continued if he didn't want the same thing. Did he want the same thing?
I had a feeling that our talk wouldn't end with me wearing a glass slipper.
And it didn't.
And I am blue.
He has been one of the most amazing partners in crime I have ever had. He taught me about myself too.
To think that it is over is very bittersweet to me.
Why does doing the right thing feel so bad?
If I look at it from another perspective...he was part of the magic that was really amazing this weekend.
And I am grateful.
Blue...but grateful.
And grateful that even though the desserts I missed would have been delicious, they wouldn't do me any good in the long run.
See the metaphor there?