Today was a massive day for Spring almost Summer cleaning. I don't know what got into me but I was up at the crack of dawn weeding through clothes, shoes, files and getting rid of the old. How liberating! I really need to do this more often. Making room for the new. I think the happier I get the more I do stuff like this. It's like my smile brings me energy. This new beginning thing is right up my alley and I am embracing it, hook, line and sinker.
I went out to the Grove yesterday on Memorial Day and boy that was very smart, everyone and their mother was out. I don't like crowds. I prefer the Grove on Wednesday at 2 in the afternoon when hardly anybody is there. It's like my own playground then. Yesterday it was more like a battlefield. I had to wait in line and I NEVER wait in line. Probably stems from my days of sneaking into clubs when I was underage, no matter how hot the joint was, I never waited, to this day I don't know how I pulled it off. I guess it was a cross between willing it to happen and being a spoiled brat, not a brat in the bad sense, (I always worked and said please and thank you) but more like I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it. Well this schlep to the Grove involved going to see The Hangover. I have to say I was slightly mortified. Talk about pushing the envelope, if this is the biggest opening for a comedy film ever then we have a lot a pre-pubescent teens that might need some therapy to sort out the freak show on display in this film. Now I have lived in NYC and Los Angeles and I have befriended friends from all walks of life, I have seen a lot and even I wasn't ready for that type of raunchy humor. What ever happened to leaving something to the imagination? Did all of that next level alternative stuff have to be so in our face? I err slightly on the prudish side but I have had my fair share of wild nights usually the PG 13 kind of wild but this film went too far. Bridesmaids was much more funny and smart, it didn't need all the potty humor to get a laugh. The Hangover came off like it was trying way to hard to be hungover. Once upon a time, I knew the director and he was nice enough, super smart, cute and kept me giggling throughout our dates together. This was before the superfame. Did the money make him soft? Make him lazy? I remember him being funny (and a great kisser). I wonder what happened? And I wonder if I see him again, if I'll have the guts to ask him? I think he needs to be asked. Why the full frontal with the tranny? Some people just aren't ready for that. Ok, ok... enough of my soapbox. Who am I to judge?
Tomorrow marks my first day of freedom. No more Tar Pit. It's the end of a beautiful chapter, one that helped me put the pieces of my life back together. I wore lots of pretty dresses, met a lot of cool people, picked up a few friends along the way, learned about spirits and food and music. I learned how to be a boss, the good cop, cool but firm. I hired my first employee and fired my first employee. I pushed myself beyond what I thought I was capable of and learned to be right more often than wrong. I chose the right people to look up to and the right relationships to nurture. Right is so much more fun than wrong. Right is stable and consistent. Wrong can tend to be exciting but it's so 2006, I find it very boring now. The minute I sniff wrong, I'm out. I never knew I could be like that but I guess I learned it from being wrong. I was wrong on many occasions that now it's like an old shoe that causes a blister on the back of my foot. That shoe is tossed immediately. I'd rather walk barefoot until I find the right fit. It's like being in limbo. I like the limbo, you need to be somewhat flexible to be good at it. Time to stretch and reach and bend. I may pull a muscle here and there but I can always get a massage.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The Ax and Oo La La
Saturday's are usually the busiest days at the restaurant. I try to do something during the day before my shift, squeeze in some sort of personal life. Yesterday morning, I decided to sleep in, after three nights of restless sleep and a series of nightmares involving the tall blonde from "True Blood", I needed it. I left myself just enough time to shower, walk to get my coffee, take some extra time to curl my hair and put on makeup. Usually I'm slapping on the under eye cover in the rear view mirror at a red light, but when I do make an effort I can apply my makeup like a pro. Probably from my part time job at the Clinique counter during high school so I could have some "going out" money. Question is, where was I going at 16?
I slinked on my navy wrap dress, red high heels and my brown scarf. My stomach bothered me as I ran down the stairs of my apartment building. I flung open the front door and it was a blaring sunny California day. I whipped out my new Diane Von Furstenberg aviator shades, a gift from a friend and put them on. I stood up straighter and sprinted across the street to my lil toyota. The backseat was covered with clothes, shoes, a modeling portfolio and empty coffee cups littered the floor. When it starts to look like this it means I am stressed and I need to regroup quickly on my next day off.
I sped the two blocks to work and parked in the alley behind the restaurant. Something didn't feel right. The bar has gone through major changes and business has essentially fallen off of a cliff. It happened so quickly that most of the staff has stood around scratching their heads as to what the hell happened. A year ago we were the hot spot, sexy and new. Reality set in and it was painful to watch.
With yet another GM in place, changes were inevitable. All the 14 hour days that I put in over the last six months suddenly had no meaning. I was the only one keeping tally on my scorecard. Everything I was taught about paying your dues and working hard with a smile on your face no longer applied in this game.
I walked through the back door and the air was thick and heavy. I tried to shake it off and waved to the kitchen guys, they are my homies and we always share a good laugh. My new boss exchanged a few pleasantries but could hardly look me in the eye. It was about to go down. My body started to get shaky and my regular breathing became gulps for air. Suddenly our meeting at 3 no longer seemed like a meeting. I held out hope and grabbed my notebook and the staff schedule, afterall we were supposed to discuss everyone's availability. I'm sure at this point you know what's looming. I did too and everything started to happen in slow motion.
"We have to have a conversation" he said and turned to walk in the main dining room. Now THAT is never good. I clung to my notebook and followed him to booth 4, the Hollywood booth. The big honcho was already sitting down. He's 6'5 and easily 300 lbs, he looks like an ex-football player. I sat down and he called me "dear". I guess he was softening the blow. We made small talk and I really couldn't hear a word he said, I felt like I was under water with my eyes open. He turned to my new boss and that's when the final blow was administered. They were letting me go. The restaurant could not afford to have two managers. The last year flashed before my eyes. All of the late nights, the fights that I broke up, the rock stars, the movie stars, my regulars, and all of the friends that I hired. My lip started to quiver and I delicately lifted my scarf to cover my mouth all the while chanting in my head "do not cry" as big crocodile tears formed in my eyes. The large man pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me, it had a monogrammed D on it. I lifted it to my eyes to stop the liquid from falling on my cheek. I looked across the table to the new boss on the block and he looked down, I think I was his first. He had never fired anyone before and in that moment I felt bad for him, can you imagine?
When I was able to compose myself I looked at them both in the eye and told them that I understood their business decision yet on a personal level it was very hard to wrap my head around. I wanted them to explain how I could go the extra mile, work my butt off, pick up the slack and fill in where needed and then have something like this happen? I wanted them to rationalize it for me. They were stumped. They couldn't answer me and it all boils down to a big fat "that's life." When my staff showed up I told them and they hugged me and people were walking around in shock. As the word got out, my phone started to blow up. My friends had the safety net ready and everyone wanted to help me get a job. My regular's came in and I told them the news. They gave me their home phone number and told me they would help me with whatever I needed. I couldn't believe this outpouring of love and suddenly my shock turned to relief. I felt free.
I woke up this morning with the tears again and decided to watch a movie. I watched Tom Ford's "A Single Man", his heart is splattered all over that movie and it was just what I needed. Pure inspiration. I remembered the time that I met Tom, I had an instant crush, he was working for Gucci and my friend was producing their fashion show. I passed out gift bags at the end.
After my movie extravaganza, I dragged myself, puffy eyes and all and ventured to Starbucks. I ordered my small coffee, set up my computer and blasted Jessie J through my headphones. I perused Craigslist for jobs in vain and submitted one resume in between writing this post. My phone rang within minutes and a deep French voice was on the other end. They got my resume and were interested in meeting me. "That was quick' I said. I don't think the man could understand me. He just wants me to come by tomorrow at 3. I may have to brush up on my French.
Ooo la la. C'et la vie.
I slinked on my navy wrap dress, red high heels and my brown scarf. My stomach bothered me as I ran down the stairs of my apartment building. I flung open the front door and it was a blaring sunny California day. I whipped out my new Diane Von Furstenberg aviator shades, a gift from a friend and put them on. I stood up straighter and sprinted across the street to my lil toyota. The backseat was covered with clothes, shoes, a modeling portfolio and empty coffee cups littered the floor. When it starts to look like this it means I am stressed and I need to regroup quickly on my next day off.
I sped the two blocks to work and parked in the alley behind the restaurant. Something didn't feel right. The bar has gone through major changes and business has essentially fallen off of a cliff. It happened so quickly that most of the staff has stood around scratching their heads as to what the hell happened. A year ago we were the hot spot, sexy and new. Reality set in and it was painful to watch.
With yet another GM in place, changes were inevitable. All the 14 hour days that I put in over the last six months suddenly had no meaning. I was the only one keeping tally on my scorecard. Everything I was taught about paying your dues and working hard with a smile on your face no longer applied in this game.
I walked through the back door and the air was thick and heavy. I tried to shake it off and waved to the kitchen guys, they are my homies and we always share a good laugh. My new boss exchanged a few pleasantries but could hardly look me in the eye. It was about to go down. My body started to get shaky and my regular breathing became gulps for air. Suddenly our meeting at 3 no longer seemed like a meeting. I held out hope and grabbed my notebook and the staff schedule, afterall we were supposed to discuss everyone's availability. I'm sure at this point you know what's looming. I did too and everything started to happen in slow motion.
"We have to have a conversation" he said and turned to walk in the main dining room. Now THAT is never good. I clung to my notebook and followed him to booth 4, the Hollywood booth. The big honcho was already sitting down. He's 6'5 and easily 300 lbs, he looks like an ex-football player. I sat down and he called me "dear". I guess he was softening the blow. We made small talk and I really couldn't hear a word he said, I felt like I was under water with my eyes open. He turned to my new boss and that's when the final blow was administered. They were letting me go. The restaurant could not afford to have two managers. The last year flashed before my eyes. All of the late nights, the fights that I broke up, the rock stars, the movie stars, my regulars, and all of the friends that I hired. My lip started to quiver and I delicately lifted my scarf to cover my mouth all the while chanting in my head "do not cry" as big crocodile tears formed in my eyes. The large man pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me, it had a monogrammed D on it. I lifted it to my eyes to stop the liquid from falling on my cheek. I looked across the table to the new boss on the block and he looked down, I think I was his first. He had never fired anyone before and in that moment I felt bad for him, can you imagine?
When I was able to compose myself I looked at them both in the eye and told them that I understood their business decision yet on a personal level it was very hard to wrap my head around. I wanted them to explain how I could go the extra mile, work my butt off, pick up the slack and fill in where needed and then have something like this happen? I wanted them to rationalize it for me. They were stumped. They couldn't answer me and it all boils down to a big fat "that's life." When my staff showed up I told them and they hugged me and people were walking around in shock. As the word got out, my phone started to blow up. My friends had the safety net ready and everyone wanted to help me get a job. My regular's came in and I told them the news. They gave me their home phone number and told me they would help me with whatever I needed. I couldn't believe this outpouring of love and suddenly my shock turned to relief. I felt free.
I woke up this morning with the tears again and decided to watch a movie. I watched Tom Ford's "A Single Man", his heart is splattered all over that movie and it was just what I needed. Pure inspiration. I remembered the time that I met Tom, I had an instant crush, he was working for Gucci and my friend was producing their fashion show. I passed out gift bags at the end.
After my movie extravaganza, I dragged myself, puffy eyes and all and ventured to Starbucks. I ordered my small coffee, set up my computer and blasted Jessie J through my headphones. I perused Craigslist for jobs in vain and submitted one resume in between writing this post. My phone rang within minutes and a deep French voice was on the other end. They got my resume and were interested in meeting me. "That was quick' I said. I don't think the man could understand me. He just wants me to come by tomorrow at 3. I may have to brush up on my French.
Ooo la la. C'et la vie.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Madonna vs. Gaga
This is a very touchy subject that I am about to tackle. You see I was one of the original "wanna be's" meaning I was 15 years old when I first heard "Lucky Star" and nearly lost my mind. I used to take dance class three times a week. My teacher's name was Miss Lynn, she was a former Rockette. She was perfect to me. She did everything with such grace and her high kick was something to marvel at. Anyway, she hired a teacher named Lisa, who was 27years old. She walked into class wearing a pink faux fur coat, she had black curly hair, big green eyes and bright red lipstick. She sauntered in with an attitude, I had never seen anybody like her. She was sexy and I had never encountered a woman with her prowess before, all the adults in my life were so Catholic, prim and proper. Later when I moved to NYC and got out in the world I encountered people like her. They knew they had "it" and worked it.
She introduced herself and smiled at all of us. We were a rag a muffin bunch with our holey leotards and messy ponytails. Lisa took off her coat and she had on a ripped tank top that hung off of one shoulder, black tights cut off at the ankle and high heeled jazz shoes. I sat on the floor and stretched my legs, I was so happy that I could finally do the splits. I distinctly remember her pulling an album out of her fluffy bag, it had a black and white cover of a blonde woman with a chain around her neck. "Ok girls, we are going to do our warm up" she said. She lifted the needle on the record player and placed it gently on the record. Synthesizer sounds filled the air and I heard Madonna's voice for the first time. I think I changed that day. I got in touch with a part of me that I never knew was there. I moved differently and I tried to perfect each combination as the songs just played out; Holiday, Physical Attraction (still my fave, OMG such a sexy song), Everybody, Burnin Up. Lisa only taught the class for a few more weeks and to this day I have never forgotten her. She was the coolest.
So I grew up with Madonna. When through a lot of phases in life with each one of her albums. I ended up front row center at her Confessions on a Dance Floor tour. I was hanging out with a supermodel at the time and she was friends with Guy, Madonna's manager. We got the royal treatment. I was surrounded by Madonna's homies, her brother, Ingrid Casares, Chris Rock, and Gwyneth Paltrow. It was breathtaking. Her body was taut and her skin luminous and she put on a performance like no other. Her dancers were so fine and they were impeccable. At one point she sat on the steps in the front of the stage and sang "Live to Tell", she was scanning the front row, stopped and looked me in the eye while she sang. I got so excited, I peed a little. Can you imagine? Ha.
I was so inspired after that show that I marched into the restaurant where I worked and quit my waitressing job. I didn't know what I was going to do but I knew that I didn't want to do that anymore. I panicked for about a week and then I booked a recurring role on a TV show and got my first poem published. Needless to say, I love Madonna.
Cut to today and unbeknownst to me I have HBO. I didn't think it was part of my package but it was, the DirectTv peeps neglected to tell me this and I have been paying for it blindly for the last three months. As I channel surfed I came across "Lady Gaga in concert". Now I have always had a certain disdain for this young woman because essentially she is a Madonna copycat. Gotta give it to her though, she does it well. As the show progressed she was slowly earning my respect, she CAN dance and she CAN sing and for the most part she keeps it real. She talks a lot throughout her show and her little monsters just lap it up. I like her. She's cool, she's talented and she grabs your attention.
Madonna was my first love and Lady Gaga is my current fling. There is no comparison. M will always have my heart.
She introduced herself and smiled at all of us. We were a rag a muffin bunch with our holey leotards and messy ponytails. Lisa took off her coat and she had on a ripped tank top that hung off of one shoulder, black tights cut off at the ankle and high heeled jazz shoes. I sat on the floor and stretched my legs, I was so happy that I could finally do the splits. I distinctly remember her pulling an album out of her fluffy bag, it had a black and white cover of a blonde woman with a chain around her neck. "Ok girls, we are going to do our warm up" she said. She lifted the needle on the record player and placed it gently on the record. Synthesizer sounds filled the air and I heard Madonna's voice for the first time. I think I changed that day. I got in touch with a part of me that I never knew was there. I moved differently and I tried to perfect each combination as the songs just played out; Holiday, Physical Attraction (still my fave, OMG such a sexy song), Everybody, Burnin Up. Lisa only taught the class for a few more weeks and to this day I have never forgotten her. She was the coolest.
So I grew up with Madonna. When through a lot of phases in life with each one of her albums. I ended up front row center at her Confessions on a Dance Floor tour. I was hanging out with a supermodel at the time and she was friends with Guy, Madonna's manager. We got the royal treatment. I was surrounded by Madonna's homies, her brother, Ingrid Casares, Chris Rock, and Gwyneth Paltrow. It was breathtaking. Her body was taut and her skin luminous and she put on a performance like no other. Her dancers were so fine and they were impeccable. At one point she sat on the steps in the front of the stage and sang "Live to Tell", she was scanning the front row, stopped and looked me in the eye while she sang. I got so excited, I peed a little. Can you imagine? Ha.
I was so inspired after that show that I marched into the restaurant where I worked and quit my waitressing job. I didn't know what I was going to do but I knew that I didn't want to do that anymore. I panicked for about a week and then I booked a recurring role on a TV show and got my first poem published. Needless to say, I love Madonna.
Cut to today and unbeknownst to me I have HBO. I didn't think it was part of my package but it was, the DirectTv peeps neglected to tell me this and I have been paying for it blindly for the last three months. As I channel surfed I came across "Lady Gaga in concert". Now I have always had a certain disdain for this young woman because essentially she is a Madonna copycat. Gotta give it to her though, she does it well. As the show progressed she was slowly earning my respect, she CAN dance and she CAN sing and for the most part she keeps it real. She talks a lot throughout her show and her little monsters just lap it up. I like her. She's cool, she's talented and she grabs your attention.
Madonna was my first love and Lady Gaga is my current fling. There is no comparison. M will always have my heart.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Mad Hollywood Waitress: Saturday Love Fest
Mad Hollywood Waitress: Saturday Love Fest: "Oh my, where have you been, my dear dear blog I am so sorry. The chaos of my life has engulfed me and there are no words to apologize, I am..."
Saturday Love Fest
Oh my, where have you been, my dear dear blog I am so sorry. The chaos of my life has engulfed me and there are no words to apologize, I am sorry for the neglect, I wish I could toss my hair, bat my eyelashes and bring you to to Dan Tana's. Maybe I'll do that, me and my computer and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, sounds like an ideal date. Part of my chaos was good, it involved a Saturday off, go figure, I had an anxiety attack at the thought of it. What to do, what to do? I could not contain my excitement. The last time I really got excited about a Saturday night off was when I had my very first boyfriend. He would take me out for pizza and the movies and we would make out for hours in the playground. Saturday was our day. As I grew up and encountered the pangs of love, Saturday's became a work day. I think I'm gonna change that up, times are a changin.
Last night, I went to a fabulous art opening in Echo Park. It's closest thing I can get to NYC in terms of moxie. The cool peeps were out in full force and I practiced the art of conversation. The couple of guys that approached me sounded like they taught diction and I just cracked jokes with my nasally Massachusetts a's. It was a beautiful night, the weather was like summer, we drank wine and ate cheese from a platter. I felt alive and home and realized I need to slap on some red lipstick and venture out more. I was told I was charming and pretty and a perfect stranger walked up to me and called me an "earth goddess". Usually I feel like the farthest from pretty let alone a character from Greek mythology. It changed up my game.
I was surrounded by art and people that make a difference. Kind souls. People I could learn from. I felt inspired and hope started to flicker once again. Dare I say, I couldn't wipe the big fat smile off of my face. I'm glad I went out to play, it's fabulous, I wonder where I forgot about it along the way.
Today I painted a mask. It represented the mask I wear in my everyday life. I'm always happy, nothing bothers me, I help others, I'm independent, I can do it all on my own. Well I'm not always happy, I get sad from time to time and things do bother me. Big puffed up inflated egos get on my damn nerves and a sense of entitlement makes me want to barf daintily. I am independent but a nice cute guy to shower with kisses makes the day brighter and I can do it all on my own but it wouldn't be that much fun.
Next week I have Friday off, (another weekend day, I am beside myself) I wonder which sandbox I'll play in then.
Last night, I went to a fabulous art opening in Echo Park. It's closest thing I can get to NYC in terms of moxie. The cool peeps were out in full force and I practiced the art of conversation. The couple of guys that approached me sounded like they taught diction and I just cracked jokes with my nasally Massachusetts a's. It was a beautiful night, the weather was like summer, we drank wine and ate cheese from a platter. I felt alive and home and realized I need to slap on some red lipstick and venture out more. I was told I was charming and pretty and a perfect stranger walked up to me and called me an "earth goddess". Usually I feel like the farthest from pretty let alone a character from Greek mythology. It changed up my game.
I was surrounded by art and people that make a difference. Kind souls. People I could learn from. I felt inspired and hope started to flicker once again. Dare I say, I couldn't wipe the big fat smile off of my face. I'm glad I went out to play, it's fabulous, I wonder where I forgot about it along the way.
Today I painted a mask. It represented the mask I wear in my everyday life. I'm always happy, nothing bothers me, I help others, I'm independent, I can do it all on my own. Well I'm not always happy, I get sad from time to time and things do bother me. Big puffed up inflated egos get on my damn nerves and a sense of entitlement makes me want to barf daintily. I am independent but a nice cute guy to shower with kisses makes the day brighter and I can do it all on my own but it wouldn't be that much fun.
Next week I have Friday off, (another weekend day, I am beside myself) I wonder which sandbox I'll play in then.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The Maiden Voyage and Tortuga Beans
I work so many hours, that when it comes time for my day off, I really don't know what to do with myself. It's overwhelming. My new thing lately is to try something different. Venture to a new place, make new friends, hike up a different mountain etc. I have been wanting to go to this coffee shop in Silverlake called Intelligentsia, translation, hipster mecca. I rolled out of bed and purposely did not brush my hair so that I could fit in with the "can't be bothereds" (crazy, I know) but at the end of the day what the greasy haired beautiful people don't get is I really can't be bothered and didn't brush my hair out of sheer laziness.
So this morning I decided to fore go my $1.45 regular coffee at the Jewish Coffee Bean in my neighborhood, where everyone knows me and I just have to grunt to get my order for tortuga beans. Yes, my coffee is made with tortuga beans from Columbia and they are seasonal. My cup of tortuga bean coffee cost me the bargain price of 5 bucks. (amazing cup of joe, tasty) I threw in a chocolate croissant and brought that grand total up to $8.50. I look around and stop at a guy with a headband over his guess what? yep...greasy hair and wonder what I'm paying for? Could it be the staff that looks like an American Apparel Ad, the beautiful people that surround me, the music that I've never heard before and really dig or the fabulous fashion going on at the table next to me.
Will I be back? Yes, it's different, some of the people seem kind and unaffected. For the most part it is quintessentially Los Angeles, being a Massachusetts girl, I still stare at the absurdity of it all. Next time I'll order water, take advantage of the free internet access and people watch.
Now back to my part of town for Taco Bell's two dollar meal.
So this morning I decided to fore go my $1.45 regular coffee at the Jewish Coffee Bean in my neighborhood, where everyone knows me and I just have to grunt to get my order for tortuga beans. Yes, my coffee is made with tortuga beans from Columbia and they are seasonal. My cup of tortuga bean coffee cost me the bargain price of 5 bucks. (amazing cup of joe, tasty) I threw in a chocolate croissant and brought that grand total up to $8.50. I look around and stop at a guy with a headband over his guess what? yep...greasy hair and wonder what I'm paying for? Could it be the staff that looks like an American Apparel Ad, the beautiful people that surround me, the music that I've never heard before and really dig or the fabulous fashion going on at the table next to me.
Will I be back? Yes, it's different, some of the people seem kind and unaffected. For the most part it is quintessentially Los Angeles, being a Massachusetts girl, I still stare at the absurdity of it all. Next time I'll order water, take advantage of the free internet access and people watch.
Now back to my part of town for Taco Bell's two dollar meal.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Rat Fink
OOOh I am so mad right now. I can't take it. I started writing about something else a few minutes ago and then I was tipped out to a rat in my midst. Yes I know it may sound like a mafia movie and I can definitely be melodramatic, probably from watching soap operas with my grandmother starting at the ripe old age of 10. I still watch General Hospital and yell at my TV for how ridiculous it is, yet I can't stop.
I'm talking about a real life rat though. They usually hang with the cool crowd, are the life of the party and just a tad off kilter. More than likely they want to hang out a lot and it usually involves lots of drinking, partying, the usual shallow stuff. They are very complimentary and are always up in your business, usually trying to taint any happiness you may have. Hmmm, I wonder why?
Anyway, Hollywood can be a very tricky place. Traps have been set since the beginning of time. I'm sure Ava Gardner and Marilyn had to deal with a rat or two. They were the beauties and I'm sure there were plenty of swats to knock them to ground. Success is hard to come by here. True success, takes a long time. Talent and hard work will get you there but only if you have one other ingredient...patience. I have waited. I'm a patient girl, a patient woman.
But life has a way of reminding you that you have to indeed be as wise as a serpent yet gentle as a dove. I've got the dove down but the serpent part oooooooh that is hard for me. Guess what though? I'm stepping up the plate. I talk about movie stars a lot in this blog but it was my reality for a while. I was surrounded by them, having worked in the hottest watering hole in the biz. One friend in particular was having a big comedy show at the Henry Fonda Theater. I went, it was a fantastic show. I laughed my ass off, loved every minute of it. Afterward, when I was ushered to the back, I gave him a big hug and a kiss to congratulate him. He told me he didn't like doing shows in LA, I wondered why? He told me "everyone wants you to fail, people are so busy trying to succeed that they freak out at anyone else's success". I know it may be hard for those that live outside of this wacky bubble that I'm part of, but sadly it is very true here. At the end of the day, my friend didn't care. He was playing with his friends, making people laugh and getting paid for it.
So cut to me, the patient one. I have met like minds and together we succeed. People step back and look sideways. The rats thrash about nibbling at our heels trying to throw us off our game. It's fleeting and temporary, these feeble attempts, empty words, dead seeds that they try to plant. They wear pretty dresses, pink lipstick and kiss me on both cheeks when they greet me. I stand straight and look them in the eye.
You can take away the stage from your darkened corner but the music I hear will never touch your ears.
I'm talking about a real life rat though. They usually hang with the cool crowd, are the life of the party and just a tad off kilter. More than likely they want to hang out a lot and it usually involves lots of drinking, partying, the usual shallow stuff. They are very complimentary and are always up in your business, usually trying to taint any happiness you may have. Hmmm, I wonder why?
Anyway, Hollywood can be a very tricky place. Traps have been set since the beginning of time. I'm sure Ava Gardner and Marilyn had to deal with a rat or two. They were the beauties and I'm sure there were plenty of swats to knock them to ground. Success is hard to come by here. True success, takes a long time. Talent and hard work will get you there but only if you have one other ingredient...patience. I have waited. I'm a patient girl, a patient woman.
But life has a way of reminding you that you have to indeed be as wise as a serpent yet gentle as a dove. I've got the dove down but the serpent part oooooooh that is hard for me. Guess what though? I'm stepping up the plate. I talk about movie stars a lot in this blog but it was my reality for a while. I was surrounded by them, having worked in the hottest watering hole in the biz. One friend in particular was having a big comedy show at the Henry Fonda Theater. I went, it was a fantastic show. I laughed my ass off, loved every minute of it. Afterward, when I was ushered to the back, I gave him a big hug and a kiss to congratulate him. He told me he didn't like doing shows in LA, I wondered why? He told me "everyone wants you to fail, people are so busy trying to succeed that they freak out at anyone else's success". I know it may be hard for those that live outside of this wacky bubble that I'm part of, but sadly it is very true here. At the end of the day, my friend didn't care. He was playing with his friends, making people laugh and getting paid for it.
So cut to me, the patient one. I have met like minds and together we succeed. People step back and look sideways. The rats thrash about nibbling at our heels trying to throw us off our game. It's fleeting and temporary, these feeble attempts, empty words, dead seeds that they try to plant. They wear pretty dresses, pink lipstick and kiss me on both cheeks when they greet me. I stand straight and look them in the eye.
You can take away the stage from your darkened corner but the music I hear will never touch your ears.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The Remnants...
I lived right around the block from Madonna, threw fabulous parties, died my hair platinum blonde, hung out with Robert Frost's niece, she was a smartie pants and a big model, I learned so much from her. When I hit my 30's, I tried, to do the husband thing but I picked the wrong guy. Somehow, this "anything's possible theory" had holes in it.....
My blog site freaked out and was down for two days. The above paragraph was all I could salvage from my last entry. Sounds like I was on to something juicy. If I wrack my brain, I'm sure I could remember it. Not now though, I'm on the verge of short circuiting. The range of emotions I have experienced this week have been vast. All in the name of doing the right thing. Sometimes, I wish I could be bad, I could be mean and cold. For quite sometime I always gravitated toward people with this fickle nature, I myself could never muster up the courage to cut my eyes at someone and storm off (well maybe I've done that a couple of times and it usually involved some sort of naughty boy). I can be a big ol sensitive sap most of the time, but I am learning the ways of the world and standing my ground. Feels good, feels new.
I auditioned for Volkswagon today and they called me back for Mercedes. Fancy huh? Some big German director that won a prize at the Cannes Film Festival. I had to play a Sex and the City type gal, so I busted out my vintage Chanel, straightened my do and pretended I was back on 5th Avenue. It was fabulous and I knew I did a good job. There were 10 other women around me, they all were in the same age range, some took better care of themselves than others. A few opted for the botox and collagen lips, it was obvious and I felt bad for them. They didn't look younger, they looked preoccupied. The woman sitting next to me was feverishly texting away on her blackberry, I was close enough to read over her shoulder. I was so bored, I took a peek, I couldn't resist. She was chatting away with three different guys. She wanted to skype with one, (I have skyped once in my life, when all that mess first came out and it was with a movie star, to this day I associate skyping with wealth and privilege, I really need to get with the times because from what I understand everyone does it). She also wanted to nap with number two and take a yoga class with number three. I was enthralled. How could she keep up? I can barely text with one person, let alone hustle a few. The immediate sense of intimacy weirds me out. It seems like people can ask for something more easily when there is an electronic gadget and space between them. I don't know if I will ever get used to it. There is just something so smarmy about it. I prefer to hear someone's voice. I am fighting a losing battle so I take to my blog and rant about it...blah, blah, blah.
Recently I've learned to balance budgets, manage timelines and deal with a plethora of personalities. It's all a cake walk except the latter, but there is a beauty in that as well. We are all so different, it's fascinating to me. I get to put myself in the others shoes and how they think. I learn about my ways and how I'd like to do things differently. Not better, just different, saunter down a different path, kicking up the dirt as I go.
My blog site freaked out and was down for two days. The above paragraph was all I could salvage from my last entry. Sounds like I was on to something juicy. If I wrack my brain, I'm sure I could remember it. Not now though, I'm on the verge of short circuiting. The range of emotions I have experienced this week have been vast. All in the name of doing the right thing. Sometimes, I wish I could be bad, I could be mean and cold. For quite sometime I always gravitated toward people with this fickle nature, I myself could never muster up the courage to cut my eyes at someone and storm off (well maybe I've done that a couple of times and it usually involved some sort of naughty boy). I can be a big ol sensitive sap most of the time, but I am learning the ways of the world and standing my ground. Feels good, feels new.
I auditioned for Volkswagon today and they called me back for Mercedes. Fancy huh? Some big German director that won a prize at the Cannes Film Festival. I had to play a Sex and the City type gal, so I busted out my vintage Chanel, straightened my do and pretended I was back on 5th Avenue. It was fabulous and I knew I did a good job. There were 10 other women around me, they all were in the same age range, some took better care of themselves than others. A few opted for the botox and collagen lips, it was obvious and I felt bad for them. They didn't look younger, they looked preoccupied. The woman sitting next to me was feverishly texting away on her blackberry, I was close enough to read over her shoulder. I was so bored, I took a peek, I couldn't resist. She was chatting away with three different guys. She wanted to skype with one, (I have skyped once in my life, when all that mess first came out and it was with a movie star, to this day I associate skyping with wealth and privilege, I really need to get with the times because from what I understand everyone does it). She also wanted to nap with number two and take a yoga class with number three. I was enthralled. How could she keep up? I can barely text with one person, let alone hustle a few. The immediate sense of intimacy weirds me out. It seems like people can ask for something more easily when there is an electronic gadget and space between them. I don't know if I will ever get used to it. There is just something so smarmy about it. I prefer to hear someone's voice. I am fighting a losing battle so I take to my blog and rant about it...blah, blah, blah.
Recently I've learned to balance budgets, manage timelines and deal with a plethora of personalities. It's all a cake walk except the latter, but there is a beauty in that as well. We are all so different, it's fascinating to me. I get to put myself in the others shoes and how they think. I learn about my ways and how I'd like to do things differently. Not better, just different, saunter down a different path, kicking up the dirt as I go.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Re-Apply
No matter where I am, whether it's leaving Taco Bell at 3am, stopped at a traffic light or getting ready for a date I always re-apply. My lipstick, lipgloss, hello kitty chapstick you name it, I always have it in my little purse waiting. I guess it's a way of keeping the glamour in my life, something consistent. Or maybe it's just a nervous tick.
I have always been a girlie girl, I got in touch with my tomboy side here and there when I hung out with the girls that played sports. I actually traded in my pink tutu one year for a softball mitt and wouldn't you know it I was fairly decent. I knew for sure that I could do a pirouette but never thought I could catch a fly ball. What a sense of accomplishment, catching that ball, with my eyes closed and sun blaring, I just put my hand up and it landed right in my glove. Everyone cheered, it was amazing.
So dance class on Saturday mornings and softball on Thursday's, my world was opening up. Back then I wore the lip gloss with the roller ball. It came in cherry, strawberry and bubble gum flavor. I think I re-applied even way back then. I think about different things when I re-apply. Will I get the job?, will he call?, will I be able to pay my rent this month? When I'm sitting in my car outside a movie studio getting ready to go into an audition, I adjust my rear view mirror and check to make sure I'm not shiny. I whip out my compact and pull out my powder puff, by this time I'm usually racing against the clock so I throw it all back in my makeup bag, grab my script and sprint across the parking lot. As I race up the stairs to the casting office, I reach into my bag, grab the gloss and...wait for it..re-apply. This time wondering. will they like me?
It all doesn't really matter but these are the things that run through my head. At the end of the day, I just want to make sure I've eaten well, told those closest to me that I love them and drink some water, preferably eight glasses. Simple things. If I can fit in a walk on the beach, some yoga and a writing session, then I've won.
I spoke with a Catholic priest today, he told not to lament. I guess I was lamenting about how my life had ended up. He said 'it's not over yet." Well, he's right, it's not over yet. I reach for my gloss and re-apply.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Confession
I come from a place where you always keep a stiff upper lip. You don't talk about your problems and if you have any issues, you pretend that you don't. Healthy huh? Needless to say I moved to California and this way of thinking bought me about 10 years. But when you are dealing with the wackness of it all you have to default to truth overdrive. Much to the chagrin of a few close peeps I have been processing a lot. I often wonder why they just don't jump out of my car at a stop light while I am mid-sentence, it would be so much easier. Luckily I have picked some prized fighters and we all want to win. So they choose, so far, to get temporarily stuck in the traffic of my madness. Dare I say, I'm a lucky girl.
It hasn't always been this way. I have ended friendships on a dime. Just couldn't take it anymore. It was kind of like realizing you were playing in the same game but each person had different rules. It was impossible. So you just disqualify yourself, remove a player, and I haven't looked back since. All good though, bittersweet growth.
I could never do that now. The friendships that I am building are on much more solid ground. Lots of watering and pruning the plants. Plucking out the occasional weed, tending with lots of loving care, speaking the truth always and having an opinion. Imagine that! A major meeting of the minds, constant creativity and belly laughs. Lots of giggles are important, it makes trudging through the yucky stuff worth it.
I confessed to a group of women today. We are all searching and we all seem to be at the same starting gate in life. The most important thing that we have in common is we all want to be the best. The best kind of friend, daughter, mother, sister, wife, lover, teacher and so on. I realize to be the best at any of those things you have to be true and how often do we run from that part of ourselves. We are pulled in the direction of seeking approval of others, people pleasing and settling for less just to survive. Well I want it all and I am not afraid to say it. I don't want a Bentley, a spray tan, a house in the hills or a trip to Paris. (Well maybe the trip to Paris :).) I do want to always say something and mean it, I want friends I can depend on, a job that I'm proud of, I want my words to mean something and influence people positively, I want to share ideas, I want to debate, I want to learn, I want to decide and I want my kisses not to be in vain. That's not much to ask. So I confess my wrongs in hopes of making them right, in hopes knowing why I stumbled and it never happening again in the same way. I don't want to repeat my failures, I want to learn from them. Oh my, now I sound like a Hallmark card.
I wore blue flowers in my hair today because I felt new. I've never used a compass before. Here in Los Angeles, I know that north is toward the Hollywood sign, south is toward the hood, west is to the beach and east goes downtown. I sit with my legs folded under me listening to music. The voice fills the room and I rock back and forth. I finally know which way to go.
It hasn't always been this way. I have ended friendships on a dime. Just couldn't take it anymore. It was kind of like realizing you were playing in the same game but each person had different rules. It was impossible. So you just disqualify yourself, remove a player, and I haven't looked back since. All good though, bittersweet growth.
I could never do that now. The friendships that I am building are on much more solid ground. Lots of watering and pruning the plants. Plucking out the occasional weed, tending with lots of loving care, speaking the truth always and having an opinion. Imagine that! A major meeting of the minds, constant creativity and belly laughs. Lots of giggles are important, it makes trudging through the yucky stuff worth it.
I confessed to a group of women today. We are all searching and we all seem to be at the same starting gate in life. The most important thing that we have in common is we all want to be the best. The best kind of friend, daughter, mother, sister, wife, lover, teacher and so on. I realize to be the best at any of those things you have to be true and how often do we run from that part of ourselves. We are pulled in the direction of seeking approval of others, people pleasing and settling for less just to survive. Well I want it all and I am not afraid to say it. I don't want a Bentley, a spray tan, a house in the hills or a trip to Paris. (Well maybe the trip to Paris :).) I do want to always say something and mean it, I want friends I can depend on, a job that I'm proud of, I want my words to mean something and influence people positively, I want to share ideas, I want to debate, I want to learn, I want to decide and I want my kisses not to be in vain. That's not much to ask. So I confess my wrongs in hopes of making them right, in hopes knowing why I stumbled and it never happening again in the same way. I don't want to repeat my failures, I want to learn from them. Oh my, now I sound like a Hallmark card.
I wore blue flowers in my hair today because I felt new. I've never used a compass before. Here in Los Angeles, I know that north is toward the Hollywood sign, south is toward the hood, west is to the beach and east goes downtown. I sit with my legs folded under me listening to music. The voice fills the room and I rock back and forth. I finally know which way to go.
My Feet Hurt
I sit here because I really feel like I need to write. It's me keeping up my end of the deal in this commitment arrangement with myself. I don't know what else to say except that my feet hurt. People are constantly asking me for things and I just make it all happen. In a way it's a sense of accomplishment but some days I just want to be sitting on a beach being waited on hand and foot. In my next life, I would like to be a diva, I have been told I look like an heiress, a diva, and a princess (thanks Leo ;)) but I do not wield my power in that direction what so over. I have my grandmother's heart and I care about those around me. I can't help it. Oh the guilt.
I think I am making headway though. I look around and see people getting what they want. Getting something you want always seemed like a foreign concept to me, maybe because I was a lay-a-way child, always having to wait for what I wanted. A life in the arts can be a very fickle one, but to quote the Italian artist that painted me once, "there is nothing like it darling" and he was right. I see people turn on their heels and run for the hills which usually means a nice cushy accounting job. They can't handle it. It can be a lonely road but at least it's real. I have met the most incredibly self absorbed ill mannered people along the way. They usually get what they want, temporarily, but it is always fleeting. The ones that endure and tell the truth, do suffer a bit, but in the end they are standing, battle scars and all.
Someone ordered a Long Island Iced Tea today, the bartender was so appalled that he charged them 40 dollars. The schmucks paid, can you believe it? I looked at the drink as it was being brought to the table and thought, there goes my foot massage.
I think I am making headway though. I look around and see people getting what they want. Getting something you want always seemed like a foreign concept to me, maybe because I was a lay-a-way child, always having to wait for what I wanted. A life in the arts can be a very fickle one, but to quote the Italian artist that painted me once, "there is nothing like it darling" and he was right. I see people turn on their heels and run for the hills which usually means a nice cushy accounting job. They can't handle it. It can be a lonely road but at least it's real. I have met the most incredibly self absorbed ill mannered people along the way. They usually get what they want, temporarily, but it is always fleeting. The ones that endure and tell the truth, do suffer a bit, but in the end they are standing, battle scars and all.
Someone ordered a Long Island Iced Tea today, the bartender was so appalled that he charged them 40 dollars. The schmucks paid, can you believe it? I looked at the drink as it was being brought to the table and thought, there goes my foot massage.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Like Before
I have been an observer for most of my life. I have definitely had my moments where I have gulped life without coming up for air but the past few years I feel like I have been sitting on the bench. I probably had to rest for a bit because I feel a big wave coming. Sometimes I would dive head first into the wave only to be pushed down to the bottom of the ocean. Other times I would run from the wave or jump over it in order to avoid the big splash.
I remember being a teenager and spending my summer vacation in Rhode Island. I would go there with my mother, my aunt and my cousin, who was a year younger than me. There was a tiny store at the corner of the street where we had our cottage. It sold suntan lotion and penny candy. Two brothers worked there, their names were Pop and Tony. I liked Pop and my cousin liked Tony. They were Italian and the coolest guys on the block. I could absolutely have the biggest crush on Pop in the summer and forget about him in the winter. Yet once those hot months rolled around again, I was ready to play the kissing game. I wish I could still be like that, carefree and open. It's a different time though. It's all about this overly affectionate social network jargon where people lay their emotions at the foot of someone's facebook wall. I prefer a stolen glance across the room or a handwritten love letter.
That happened to me recently. The stolen glance thing. I was working and the restaurant was packed. All the girls were talking about the cute guy on table 33, longish hair, scruffy. I just cared about when I was going to be able to go home. I could not be bothered. My boss told me to bring drinks to this particular the table. I put them on a tray in a huff and walked toward Mr. Hearthrob. I couldn't of had more of an attitude. When I placed his whiskey sour in front of him he tried to give me his bedroom eyes. Since I was the manager on duty, I had to be polite so I scrunched out a smirk. Then I looked to his right and his friend was staring at me, he had glasses on and was kind of shy. When I really looked I noticed that he was super cute. I quickly turned and started to walk away. I felt different and as I approached my co-worker near the front of the restaurant I found myself wanting to look back in his direction. When I did, he was craning his neck to see where I was. Guys never really do that in LA, especially where I work and if they do, it's usually to find the most famous girl in the room. When I caught his eye, he smiled, I immediately looked down and became busy.
I think it may be time to get off the bench and smile back, like before, like my summers at the beach.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
All In a Day
Today was a super hot sunny California day. I decided to "work out" so I drove myself over to Silverlake, where I booked it around the reservoir. It was beautiful. I used to live in that neighborhood. It was a very fruitful, fun time in my life. I was working at a Hollywood hotspot, making bank and I danced once a month in an infamous Burlesque show. We performed at the El Rey. I was one of the chorus girls, we would dance in between the main acts. It was incredible. We dressed in these really cool, sexy costumes and provided the comic relief, we kind of stumbled around the stage and did a provocative shimmy here and there. Everyone loved the chorus girls, we were a hit.
After my power walk I went to one of favorite food stands, called Siete Mares (Seven Seas). I always get the Coctel de Camaron (shrimp cocktail) and it is the bomb. It fit into my new no carb program. So yummy. As I was getting out of my car someone started shouting my name. Who could possibly recognize me, I had big sunglasses on, messy wild hair and sweatpants. I was trying to avoid seeing anybody I knew at all costs. Well this time, my incognito look did not work. The person shouting my name was a former co-worker, he came sprinting across the street and gave me a big hug. We sat together and had lunch. We reminisced about the late nights at this Mexican restaurant where we worked, he was a busboy and I was a waitress. We danced into the wee hours and did the limbo with movie stars. He was now a fancy shmancy bartender downtown makin the big bucks. I was proud of him.
When I got back to my hood, it was almost time for me to venture into work. I ran up my stairs, tore off my sweaty clothes and showered. I brushed my hair (finally) threw on a black and white polka dot dress, red high heels and then hopped into my car for the 2 minute drive to work. I park in an alley off of La Brea Blvd. where two homeless people have been camping out for the last year. It's a blonde southern woman in her 60's and her "daughter", who really is a transvestite hooker. I often wondered how they ended up there. One of these days I will ask them.
When I pulled up a cop was stopped and talking to them from his car. I found that I have become protective of my homeless friends. They are probably some of the very few people I see on a consistent basis, it's some sort of stability for me. When the cruiser pulled away, I marched down there to scope out the scene. Chanel, the tranny had a clay mask on, I see her do this beauty routine about twice a week. She was packing up her bed and moving it to the other side of the alley. "Is everything ok?" I asked her. "That cop said we have to keep our stuff on one side of the alley or the other, he's coming back tomorrow to give us a ticket." "What? How much?" "Three Hundred and Eighty Four dollars." I couldn't believe it. How were they going to pay that ticket!? They were living in an alley!! That cop was a d-bag.
I walked into work and the air conditioning calmed me. I was ready for my night. I thought about Chanel and her mom and wondered how I could help them.
After my power walk I went to one of favorite food stands, called Siete Mares (Seven Seas). I always get the Coctel de Camaron (shrimp cocktail) and it is the bomb. It fit into my new no carb program. So yummy. As I was getting out of my car someone started shouting my name. Who could possibly recognize me, I had big sunglasses on, messy wild hair and sweatpants. I was trying to avoid seeing anybody I knew at all costs. Well this time, my incognito look did not work. The person shouting my name was a former co-worker, he came sprinting across the street and gave me a big hug. We sat together and had lunch. We reminisced about the late nights at this Mexican restaurant where we worked, he was a busboy and I was a waitress. We danced into the wee hours and did the limbo with movie stars. He was now a fancy shmancy bartender downtown makin the big bucks. I was proud of him.
When I got back to my hood, it was almost time for me to venture into work. I ran up my stairs, tore off my sweaty clothes and showered. I brushed my hair (finally) threw on a black and white polka dot dress, red high heels and then hopped into my car for the 2 minute drive to work. I park in an alley off of La Brea Blvd. where two homeless people have been camping out for the last year. It's a blonde southern woman in her 60's and her "daughter", who really is a transvestite hooker. I often wondered how they ended up there. One of these days I will ask them.
When I pulled up a cop was stopped and talking to them from his car. I found that I have become protective of my homeless friends. They are probably some of the very few people I see on a consistent basis, it's some sort of stability for me. When the cruiser pulled away, I marched down there to scope out the scene. Chanel, the tranny had a clay mask on, I see her do this beauty routine about twice a week. She was packing up her bed and moving it to the other side of the alley. "Is everything ok?" I asked her. "That cop said we have to keep our stuff on one side of the alley or the other, he's coming back tomorrow to give us a ticket." "What? How much?" "Three Hundred and Eighty Four dollars." I couldn't believe it. How were they going to pay that ticket!? They were living in an alley!! That cop was a d-bag.
I walked into work and the air conditioning calmed me. I was ready for my night. I thought about Chanel and her mom and wondered how I could help them.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Homecoming
I haven't written in a week.
My trip back East was legendary, one for the books. I don't even know where to start. The emotions were up and down and all around. I went to my first tea party, wore a hat and ate cucumber sandwiches. It was a nice lovely afternoon that ended with my baby cousin chugging from a punchbowl of wine spritzer. She wore a red and white floral dress with a flower in her hair. She swears like a truck driver and I love her to pieces. She's amazing. Everytime she opens her mouth I am convulsing in laughter, clutching my stomach, collapsing into tears of joy. The only other person that can do that to me is a boy who can't be bothered. You know the ones.
Anyhoo, my cousin who is getting married looks like Heidi Klum. Her skin is peaches and cream and she has freckles like me, it runs in the family. I am so happy for her. She met a great guy, its almost like a fairy tale. She kissed her share of frogs and now she is marrying the one. I'm sure I'll cry at the wedding. It will be in Maine in a barn and I have yet to get a dress.
While home, I hung out with my high school girlfriends, they are all married with 2.5 kids. They are sassy and loyal and they inspire me. They went on and on about their kids and husbands and then went on and on about my blog. It's all I have now, my blog, so I guess it's my baby and my man wrapped in one with no complications. I was happy to find out that my writing connected to people outside of LA, because half the time I just feel like an angst ridden struggling artist that is constantly bemoaning my fate. Sometimes I feel like "how boring, how self indulgent" but its what I do, so I will just have to risk the backlash.
So far so good. I just got a message today from a young girl, (my cousins cousin) who read my writing and said she was obsessed with it, loved it and had to contact me. So if anything I will write for her. She gets it. I won't be like this forever, I'm just in the figuring out phase. Aren't we always just trying to figure it out? Someone told me today, I will write better when it's not so tragic, so about me, me, me. It's probably true but sometimes the black hole is really comfy. I'll call it my cocoon phase. Next stop, butterfly.
Shock and awe can only describe the last day of my trip. I basically stayed up all night with my family and then caught a 6am flight. Really, who do I think I am? Sometimes a rock star. My family is made up of a lot of girls. We are all cousins. When we get together nobody can touch us, we have each others backs and most of all we have fun, fun, fun.! I have one cousin who can do backflips and has beautiful blue eyes.
She has two daughters and she is one of the best mothers I know. Her children are extraordinary. I met her youngest for the first time. We watched the Royal Wedding together and I didn't want to let her go. She was mushy and sweet and I think she was happy to hang with me. She lives in a nice house with her boyfriend who owns an Italian restaurant. There are rumors of Mob ties, but I better keep my mouth shut, I don't need a contract out on my slice of life here in sunny California. Ok, I'm rambling. So, wine spritzer cousin felt the need to address them very loudly when they showed up to our last night get together. "Hey dry hump or leave", there was a dramatic pause and then we all burst into gaggles of laughter. You see, backflip cousin got pregnant twice while on the pill so I guess dry humping is now the only option. It was hysterical and it was on perpetual repeat all night.
It didn't stop there. Heidi Klum cousin is marrying a guy named Jordan, they have been dating for about 5 years. Wine spritzer is her sister and she calls him Jorqueef. She says Jorqueef. is so happy they are getting married because Jorqueef can now stop dry humping. The laughter continued and then she decided to act out their vows and replace many keywords with queef (I cannot find the spelling in the dictionary), like "I now pronounce you queef and queef". Her humor, not mine. But I laughed and laughed loudly.
I'll go back in July, I'll be nicer to my mother and spend time outdoors. Things will be different, our family will have welcomed a new member. He'll be insulted to no end, that's the way we show our love and I will write about it.
My trip back East was legendary, one for the books. I don't even know where to start. The emotions were up and down and all around. I went to my first tea party, wore a hat and ate cucumber sandwiches. It was a nice lovely afternoon that ended with my baby cousin chugging from a punchbowl of wine spritzer. She wore a red and white floral dress with a flower in her hair. She swears like a truck driver and I love her to pieces. She's amazing. Everytime she opens her mouth I am convulsing in laughter, clutching my stomach, collapsing into tears of joy. The only other person that can do that to me is a boy who can't be bothered. You know the ones.
Anyhoo, my cousin who is getting married looks like Heidi Klum. Her skin is peaches and cream and she has freckles like me, it runs in the family. I am so happy for her. She met a great guy, its almost like a fairy tale. She kissed her share of frogs and now she is marrying the one. I'm sure I'll cry at the wedding. It will be in Maine in a barn and I have yet to get a dress.
While home, I hung out with my high school girlfriends, they are all married with 2.5 kids. They are sassy and loyal and they inspire me. They went on and on about their kids and husbands and then went on and on about my blog. It's all I have now, my blog, so I guess it's my baby and my man wrapped in one with no complications. I was happy to find out that my writing connected to people outside of LA, because half the time I just feel like an angst ridden struggling artist that is constantly bemoaning my fate. Sometimes I feel like "how boring, how self indulgent" but its what I do, so I will just have to risk the backlash.
So far so good. I just got a message today from a young girl, (my cousins cousin) who read my writing and said she was obsessed with it, loved it and had to contact me. So if anything I will write for her. She gets it. I won't be like this forever, I'm just in the figuring out phase. Aren't we always just trying to figure it out? Someone told me today, I will write better when it's not so tragic, so about me, me, me. It's probably true but sometimes the black hole is really comfy. I'll call it my cocoon phase. Next stop, butterfly.
Shock and awe can only describe the last day of my trip. I basically stayed up all night with my family and then caught a 6am flight. Really, who do I think I am? Sometimes a rock star. My family is made up of a lot of girls. We are all cousins. When we get together nobody can touch us, we have each others backs and most of all we have fun, fun, fun.! I have one cousin who can do backflips and has beautiful blue eyes.
She has two daughters and she is one of the best mothers I know. Her children are extraordinary. I met her youngest for the first time. We watched the Royal Wedding together and I didn't want to let her go. She was mushy and sweet and I think she was happy to hang with me. She lives in a nice house with her boyfriend who owns an Italian restaurant. There are rumors of Mob ties, but I better keep my mouth shut, I don't need a contract out on my slice of life here in sunny California. Ok, I'm rambling. So, wine spritzer cousin felt the need to address them very loudly when they showed up to our last night get together. "Hey dry hump or leave", there was a dramatic pause and then we all burst into gaggles of laughter. You see, backflip cousin got pregnant twice while on the pill so I guess dry humping is now the only option. It was hysterical and it was on perpetual repeat all night.
It didn't stop there. Heidi Klum cousin is marrying a guy named Jordan, they have been dating for about 5 years. Wine spritzer is her sister and she calls him Jorqueef. She says Jorqueef. is so happy they are getting married because Jorqueef can now stop dry humping. The laughter continued and then she decided to act out their vows and replace many keywords with queef (I cannot find the spelling in the dictionary), like "I now pronounce you queef and queef". Her humor, not mine. But I laughed and laughed loudly.
I'll go back in July, I'll be nicer to my mother and spend time outdoors. Things will be different, our family will have welcomed a new member. He'll be insulted to no end, that's the way we show our love and I will write about it.
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