The Aftermath and The Rock Star..

I've taken up gardening on Sunday's, digging up the messy, dirt that brings me to my knees as I pull up roots. At the end of it I am covered in stuff, my eyes are swollen and I can't speak. I am laying the ground work for lots of pretty flowers to grow. Preferably pink. Seeds are planted and I wait.

I can't talk much about what goes on during these gardening sessions so I will simply label it a "healing workshop" which is anything but simple. As I am weeding and churning I feel as though I am performing soul surgery. I have studied many years to do this. Much like a brain or heart surgeon only its intangible. It has to do with feelings and sometimes they can be so fleeting and other times it's like striking gold. Which is what happened to me yesterday.

The gold in this case were my tears that sprung from me like a geyser. I never knew I had that much snot. Ick! My tears streamed down my face and all I wanted was Chris Martin to sing to me and fix me. It wasn't hysterical crying, it was a deep weeping. I made every other woman in the room cry. My sadness exploded and the root was gutted. I had all these soothing voices telling me that I was in such a good place and through the slits of my eyes I saw their faces and believed them.

I learned about different attachment styles in relationships. Avoider, pleaser, controller, victim and vacillator (I can only think of vacccum cleaner when I say that word - am i avoiding? - sorta bad joke, I know). Oh and secure is the holy grail of relationships, if you're secure you have met Oz.

It's tricky though,and I had questions so I pulled aside the brilliant woman that broke this all down for me and begged to know how to break these patterns. She said we can eventually reach a secure place in relationships but every once in a while the wicked witch of the west will rear her ugly head and you have to take a deep breath only to be saved by Glenda the good witch. Bottom line is... we are all works in progress and life is up and down and all around even when you are secure. So, with that I clicked my red nikes and felt like I was home.

I wandered out of my garden for the car ride home. I gripped the steering wheel and used every ounce of energy to get me back to Hollywood. I could barely respond to the person I was driving with. When they spoke it sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown, I simply nodded in agreement. Thank God they were consumed with the directions to where they were going because I don't even remember saying good bye.

The car door shut and I was alone for the first time all day. Me and my swollen face and tired limbs. I needed a friend, a shoulder to rest on, someone I could trust. I called my pal Sunny and she invited me over for pizza. I raced over there, pizza is my fave. She poured me a glass of red wine, I collapsed and listened to her beautiful voice. I knew I was in good hands. She is my oldest, closest friend in Los Angeles and she is always there when I need her. She is the sun, just like her name.

After a few hours of re-grouping I slapped on some makeup and made my way to work. Our resident Sunday band was playing for the last time before they went on their European tour. I witnessed the birth of Vintage Trouble. They are an amazing group of super talented, super humble, kind gentlemen who are now rock stars - signed, sealed delivered. They are a new breed of rock star, not cocky, not arrogant. They are real and they are grateful.

Let's begin with Ty. When Ty walks into a room every woman AND man falls in love with him. He has the voice of a naughty angel. He has sung on Broadway and he always kisses my hand and tells me I'm beautiful when he sees me. He's charming and when he performs you can't take your eyes off of him. He is usually soaking wet at the end of his set, he gives everything he has. He defines sex appeal and he is front and center.

All the girls love Rick the bass player. He is a funky white boy with soul. He is sweet and kind and deserves everything he gets. He drinks tequila and gives great hugs.

Richard the drummer, well he was the one I had a tiny crush on when I first met him. He looks just like my college boyfriend, scruffy with long hair. His eye contact is dangerous and he would often make me blush. Enough said.

Nalle is from Sweden and he is fabulous. He plays guitar. His accent is well, you know. My friend Ana fell hard for him and I think he liked her too. He always asked about her and I was hoping to make a love connection for them.

So those are the boys that grew up and became rock stars. I will always remember them.

Their last show was epic. It was hot. The air conditioning broke and people were dancing all over the place. I wandered in like a zombie from my garden. While digging through my dirt I realized that I'm a pleaser (remember the relationship styles) I do a lot for others. I barely had enough energy to stand let alone do anything for anybody and then a supernatural thing happened. There is no other way to explain it - maybe because I had cleared out so much sludge I was open to the new. My friends embraced me and waited on me hand and foot. Everytime I turned around there was either food or a drink or a hug waiting for me. It was an incredibly loving supportive experience and nobody knew what a I had just gone through. I even mustered up the desire to dance swinging my hips in ways that are usually reserved for the bedroom (I gasp, hand over mouth). What a celebration!

I stumbled out at the end of the night with a couple of friends. I was going to walk home because that extra shot of tequila made me wobbly. My friend offered to drive my car home for me. I didn't lift a pinky, didn't even have to open my own door. Dare I say, I was being spoiled. Umm maybe.

I have a sneaking suspicion that lots of flowers are going to grow in my garden. Out with the old, in with the new. I could get used to this.