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Monday, November 10, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Thank you for flying US Airways, welcome to: Bomb Threat
And I don't mean "'da Bomb! threat" (owch... that hurt to say but I had to). I mean, wake up too early, leave something important that you forgot to pack at home, grab your bags and race to the airport to find out that there's chaos breaking loose and the police are turning people away and confusing the hell out of depressed looking travelers. THAT kind of bomb threat.
It's now 12 hours later, and after far too much pretending to be nice to ticketing agents when really my blood is burning through my veins, I am sitting in the airport waiting for my flight that they managed to squeeze me onto via. what I fear may be a very long standby list.
For all of you "look at the bright side" types - (as Bubs would say) - just go ahead and stare directly at the sun for 35 mins and then you'll know. My vision was blurry from all sorts of anxiety and frustration that I had no idea I was fully capable of. Though, I will go ahead and say that the 6 hours of waiting in between my original flight and the one I am getting on now, did pay off with some last minute beach nap time.
Thanks to my sweetheart (for the first two trips and last trip, and one very angry taxi driver in between) for driving me and my bags back and fourth and all around hell-town today, it looks like (at the cost of a red-eye and very sleepy me), I will not be missing my checkup (post surgery) OR the two weddings I have to shoot this weekend. No promises yet, tho, until I get on this flight.
BTW. Happy 4th of July. I'm shooting a wedding for it, so I keep forgetting,
but have a happy one. (The airport apparently has way more american spirit than I apparently do: see photo illustration).
p.s. To the guy sitting next to me with the fantastically horrible car-foot stench - PLEASE. Pleaseeeeeeeee please stop groping that big red balloon like that. It's def. not meant to be handled how you are handling it. Thank you.
It's now 12 hours later, and after far too much pretending to be nice to ticketing agents when really my blood is burning through my veins, I am sitting in the airport waiting for my flight that they managed to squeeze me onto via. what I fear may be a very long standby list.
For all of you "look at the bright side" types - (as Bubs would say) - just go ahead and stare directly at the sun for 35 mins and then you'll know. My vision was blurry from all sorts of anxiety and frustration that I had no idea I was fully capable of. Though, I will go ahead and say that the 6 hours of waiting in between my original flight and the one I am getting on now, did pay off with some last minute beach nap time.
Thanks to my sweetheart (for the first two trips and last trip, and one very angry taxi driver in between) for driving me and my bags back and fourth and all around hell-town today, it looks like (at the cost of a red-eye and very sleepy me), I will not be missing my checkup (post surgery) OR the two weddings I have to shoot this weekend. No promises yet, tho, until I get on this flight.
BTW. Happy 4th of July. I'm shooting a wedding for it, so I keep forgetting,
but have a happy one. (The airport apparently has way more american spirit than I apparently do: see photo illustration).
p.s. To the guy sitting next to me with the fantastically horrible car-foot stench - PLEASE. Pleaseeeeeeeee please stop groping that big red balloon like that. It's def. not meant to be handled how you are handling it. Thank you.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
WARNING
WARNING: This may just be (hopefully) the most bitchiest, whiniest, longest blog of my entire life. Read at your own risk:
I AM MOVING OUT.
It's official. . . Merwin St. (my current place of residency) has actually made it to the top most insane things i've ever experienced in my life. I have been avoiding writing about it for so long because, honestly, I don't even know where or how to begin.
I guess I could start with the fact that is basically feels like I live at a crowded dog pound (although the dogs are treated better there than they are here). People get dogs around here as if they are some sort of yard decorative fixture. Although don't you have to have a "yard" to decorate first? It's all just concrete space fenced off around the front door. They aren't even guard looking dogs, they are mostly just white yappy little guys. If it's not the little pouffy one barking his tail off constantly at his un-attentive owners (and I do mean constant - 3pm or 3am, he doesn't sleep apparently), it's one of the pit bull puppies next door crying for SOME sort of attention (or maybe its just crying for some sort of shelter from the sun? Or water? Which reminds me, does anyone know the number to the ASPCA?) There used to be a white dog across the street when they first got it, but now there is a grey dog. I have a sneaking suspicion it's the same dog, just really dirty. Sometimes I wonder if they don't pay attention to it (and I mean EVER) because they think it's not even their dog?
"What happened to our white dog?"
"I don't know, but keep that dirty mutt that comes into our 'yard' out of our house!"
Then again, they must know it's theirs, because sometimes they shove it into a tiny (I imagine hot as hell) dog house and board up the entrance... Maybe they do care about it and don't want it to get stolen? (Again, ASPCA # anyone?)
Maybe people just don't have the time to take care of their dogs, because they are too busy working or caring for their children? NOPE. Not here. It's been several times now that I've seen kids almost die (hit by cars standing in the street, falling from their balconies trying to climb the fences/etc.) from not being watched properly by their parents (who are standing in crowds blasting music from their cars and checking themselves out in the rear view mirrors).
There is also a fiesta BBQ gathering almost EVERY day of the week that includes lots of loud obnoxious music, guys standing around YELLING at each other (maybe to hear each other over the music?) and plenty of BBQ and Booze. That normally starts at about 8am and lasts on and off throughout the night.
The music from either them or the Car-Music-Party-Goers is usually loud enough that I need headphones to hear whatever I happen to be listening to, and I can feel it shaking my place/rattling my dishes on the shelves.
That said, not everyone on this block stays at home and slicks back their hair all day. . . The people who DO get up (early as hell, btw) make it VERY obvious that they have to go to work at 6am, because as soon as they roll up in their cars to pick up their buddies, it's HONKKK HONK HONKKKKKKKK for hours. Does anyone know that doorbells exist even? I really don't think they do.
When it's not the cars honking at each-other/for their pickups, it's the mexi-cart guy who brings food on a little cart up and down the street at LEAST twice a day. He walks down past each house, stopping every 20 feet or so, CONSTANTLY honk honk honking his horn to get people to come buy food (which rarely anyone does). I took a video of it today just to prove that I am not exaggerating:
The pigeons have their own story to tell (see previous post about pigeons). Although we've boarded them out of the attic/crawl spaces, they still like to hang around the doors/windows all morning/day and make the loudest, CREEPIEST noises ever. I can't tell if they are mating or dying. Not a pretty sound to wake up to, but I'd gladly take it over the honking any day.
There's been several times now where the entire block is completely lit up by helicopter cops searching or busting down on the Gang house that is around the corner. Not very comforting to come home to, let me tell you.
These are only a few of the unbelievable events that take drive me to the edge on a daily basis. I hate to be SO harsh on my own neighborhood, but this is absolutely mental. I have never experienced such a constant state of chaos in my life that lasts such a long amount of time. I can remember about three days in the last four months that I've lived here where I didn't need to concentrate on relaxing and breathing past all of the stress going on around me.
I love my space. The actual apartment that I live in. It's such an amazing setup and my landlords are absolutely sweet hearts. The garden is beautiful (although I rarely want to step outside to enjoy it for all of the above reasons). So what am I doing about it, you ask? I am doing what I should have done from the start: Moving to the beach. That's right! I live in CA, and I have no reasons right now to be further inland, so why the hell shouldn't I live where I can ride my bike everywhere, surf the ocean every day, and sink my feet into the sand each morning and night. Not to mention, people smile at you there rather than smashing your car with their walking cane (don't ask) or giving you that "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT" glare.
Santa Monica, and a much more relaxed and happy spirit, Here I come.
I AM MOVING OUT.
It's official. . . Merwin St. (my current place of residency) has actually made it to the top most insane things i've ever experienced in my life. I have been avoiding writing about it for so long because, honestly, I don't even know where or how to begin.
I guess I could start with the fact that is basically feels like I live at a crowded dog pound (although the dogs are treated better there than they are here). People get dogs around here as if they are some sort of yard decorative fixture. Although don't you have to have a "yard" to decorate first? It's all just concrete space fenced off around the front door. They aren't even guard looking dogs, they are mostly just white yappy little guys. If it's not the little pouffy one barking his tail off constantly at his un-attentive owners (and I do mean constant - 3pm or 3am, he doesn't sleep apparently), it's one of the pit bull puppies next door crying for SOME sort of attention (or maybe its just crying for some sort of shelter from the sun? Or water? Which reminds me, does anyone know the number to the ASPCA?) There used to be a white dog across the street when they first got it, but now there is a grey dog. I have a sneaking suspicion it's the same dog, just really dirty. Sometimes I wonder if they don't pay attention to it (and I mean EVER) because they think it's not even their dog?
"What happened to our white dog?"
"I don't know, but keep that dirty mutt that comes into our 'yard' out of our house!"
Then again, they must know it's theirs, because sometimes they shove it into a tiny (I imagine hot as hell) dog house and board up the entrance... Maybe they do care about it and don't want it to get stolen? (Again, ASPCA # anyone?)
Maybe people just don't have the time to take care of their dogs, because they are too busy working or caring for their children? NOPE. Not here. It's been several times now that I've seen kids almost die (hit by cars standing in the street, falling from their balconies trying to climb the fences/etc.) from not being watched properly by their parents (who are standing in crowds blasting music from their cars and checking themselves out in the rear view mirrors).
There is also a fiesta BBQ gathering almost EVERY day of the week that includes lots of loud obnoxious music, guys standing around YELLING at each other (maybe to hear each other over the music?) and plenty of BBQ and Booze. That normally starts at about 8am and lasts on and off throughout the night.
The music from either them or the Car-Music-Party-Goers is usually loud enough that I need headphones to hear whatever I happen to be listening to, and I can feel it shaking my place/rattling my dishes on the shelves.
That said, not everyone on this block stays at home and slicks back their hair all day. . . The people who DO get up (early as hell, btw) make it VERY obvious that they have to go to work at 6am, because as soon as they roll up in their cars to pick up their buddies, it's HONKKK HONK HONKKKKKKKK for hours. Does anyone know that doorbells exist even? I really don't think they do.
When it's not the cars honking at each-other/for their pickups, it's the mexi-cart guy who brings food on a little cart up and down the street at LEAST twice a day. He walks down past each house, stopping every 20 feet or so, CONSTANTLY honk honk honking his horn to get people to come buy food (which rarely anyone does). I took a video of it today just to prove that I am not exaggerating:
The pigeons have their own story to tell (see previous post about pigeons). Although we've boarded them out of the attic/crawl spaces, they still like to hang around the doors/windows all morning/day and make the loudest, CREEPIEST noises ever. I can't tell if they are mating or dying. Not a pretty sound to wake up to, but I'd gladly take it over the honking any day.
There's been several times now where the entire block is completely lit up by helicopter cops searching or busting down on the Gang house that is around the corner. Not very comforting to come home to, let me tell you.
These are only a few of the unbelievable events that take drive me to the edge on a daily basis. I hate to be SO harsh on my own neighborhood, but this is absolutely mental. I have never experienced such a constant state of chaos in my life that lasts such a long amount of time. I can remember about three days in the last four months that I've lived here where I didn't need to concentrate on relaxing and breathing past all of the stress going on around me.
I love my space. The actual apartment that I live in. It's such an amazing setup and my landlords are absolutely sweet hearts. The garden is beautiful (although I rarely want to step outside to enjoy it for all of the above reasons). So what am I doing about it, you ask? I am doing what I should have done from the start: Moving to the beach. That's right! I live in CA, and I have no reasons right now to be further inland, so why the hell shouldn't I live where I can ride my bike everywhere, surf the ocean every day, and sink my feet into the sand each morning and night. Not to mention, people smile at you there rather than smashing your car with their walking cane (don't ask) or giving you that "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT" glare.
Santa Monica, and a much more relaxed and happy spirit, Here I come.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
quick game of pickup
Buckle up for the fastest, most abbreviated version of what I've been wanting to write about lately all smashed into one tiny quick blog so I can go eat sushi:
Palm Sunday rolled around and I ached for the feeling of walking down the cathedral aisles waving my palm branch proudly with my family while trying to behave ourselves for the sake of my parents who still think we're 10 every time (twice a year) we attend church together.
I talked about Hyacinth flowers being my most favorite things on earth apparently enough times, because although I could find them NO WHERE around town, Bubs managed to find the most perfect white ones ever for me. Filled my apartment with good memories and parties in my nostrils all week, just in time for Easter:
EASTER. Should we cook a traditional meal at home in my kitchen (I still have to buy basically everything for my kitchen) or should we go get stuff to have a picnic with on El Matador beach? EASY choice for this perfect weathered day. Snuggled into the sand in front of one of the beautiful little rock coves and ate yummy sand(no pun intended)wiches and (illegally) drank some wine. This day couldn't have felt any better and more full of reason, or so I thought. On the way back to our car, AT THE BEACH, there she pounced, right before our eyes: The Easter Bunny. Yes, it's true. I saw the Easter bunny, a real live bunny, AT the beach, on Easter Day. Perfect.
What next? Sushi time. Of course we picked the spot that was completely empty except for the most awkward two musicians on the planet playing for us all night. Enjoying some delish. sush. over some ear-drum-wrecking music (ok they actually weren't bad, I'm a jerk), we thought the night was coming to an end. OHHH no...
Come to the part of the night where we approach my car parked out on the street and find some guy stumbling around trying to open the doors. As we near, he acts like it's his car and leans into it. But realizing that it's actually OUR car, he stumbles on to the next vehicle. That is what too much alcohol does to you, kids, so be careful next time you go drink your weight in booze.
Is this night NOW finished? Nadda. Enter legging-wonder-woman. She darted in front of my car like it was her job. And her job's uniform was the most AMAZINGLY dizzying/unique crazy shade pattern of purple I've ever seen in my life. Wow. She didn't get hit, and neither did her leggings.
All in all... Thing's in my life are going well. Lots of new work/sites going up and the making of them pretty much consumes the rest of my time.
Speak soon.
x
Palm Sunday rolled around and I ached for the feeling of walking down the cathedral aisles waving my palm branch proudly with my family while trying to behave ourselves for the sake of my parents who still think we're 10 every time (twice a year) we attend church together.
I talked about Hyacinth flowers being my most favorite things on earth apparently enough times, because although I could find them NO WHERE around town, Bubs managed to find the most perfect white ones ever for me. Filled my apartment with good memories and parties in my nostrils all week, just in time for Easter:
EASTER. Should we cook a traditional meal at home in my kitchen (I still have to buy basically everything for my kitchen) or should we go get stuff to have a picnic with on El Matador beach? EASY choice for this perfect weathered day. Snuggled into the sand in front of one of the beautiful little rock coves and ate yummy sand(no pun intended)wiches and (illegally) drank some wine. This day couldn't have felt any better and more full of reason, or so I thought. On the way back to our car, AT THE BEACH, there she pounced, right before our eyes: The Easter Bunny. Yes, it's true. I saw the Easter bunny, a real live bunny, AT the beach, on Easter Day. Perfect.
What next? Sushi time. Of course we picked the spot that was completely empty except for the most awkward two musicians on the planet playing for us all night. Enjoying some delish. sush. over some ear-drum-wrecking music (ok they actually weren't bad, I'm a jerk), we thought the night was coming to an end. OHHH no...
Come to the part of the night where we approach my car parked out on the street and find some guy stumbling around trying to open the doors. As we near, he acts like it's his car and leans into it. But realizing that it's actually OUR car, he stumbles on to the next vehicle. That is what too much alcohol does to you, kids, so be careful next time you go drink your weight in booze.
Is this night NOW finished? Nadda. Enter legging-wonder-woman. She darted in front of my car like it was her job. And her job's uniform was the most AMAZINGLY dizzying/unique crazy shade pattern of purple I've ever seen in my life. Wow. She didn't get hit, and neither did her leggings.
All in all... Thing's in my life are going well. Lots of new work/sites going up and the making of them pretty much consumes the rest of my time.
Speak soon.
x
Sunday, March 2, 2008
the astonishing people in my life.
This is only a blog to name/thank a very FEW of the absolutely, completely, 100% without a doubt most amazing and loved family/friends in my life, who make my world go round and (happily) round.
Those of you who say and do little random acts of love and who I wish I could do the same for constantly every day. Who give me hand written/created cards on normal Thursdays. Who write me one word texts that speak novels to me. Who give me little gifts (candles/soap) that mean lots to me (perfect timing b/c it's been on my list of things to get), who go on random adventures (like "sex clothing shopping"?) with me, who let me "just not talk about it", who encourage me to "talk about it", who drink far too much coffee with me, who drink far too much alcohal with me, who come to my birthday with their own special blue drinkie-drinks, who come to my birthday even after major surgery, who come to my birthday even from so far away, who come to my birthday and add lots of laughter/love/stories/uncomfortable moments, and who come to my birthday so obviously and powerfully in heart and spirit.
Yes. To all you guys and to lots more, I really appreciate being a part of your lives and having you a part of mine. My heart wouldn't beat the same strong rhythm without each of you in it.
Happy birthday to my momma bear, and to myself (we were both born on the 3rd (she's older than I am in case you were confused), so I am a day or two premature on this, but still, HAPPY!).
p.s. some favorite quotes/conversations from tonight/the past week:
"I just broke my underwear" - Colin
(seeing a group of guys in every variety outside of a bar in LA) - "Wow, Look at that adventure in boy sizes" - Colin (a very sincere comment).
(Bringing out way too much more food):
"I thought maybe ummm. . . we needed these stuffed mushrooms. . . to balance the meat balls"-yours truly
"yes! that's the problem with these whore-derve parties, there's so much good available you don't stop eating and drinking until everyone's sick. . . " - Reade Salad
". . . And THATS where the real fun starts. . . " - Garth
(no one stops eating or drinking)
"Yah. . . I had to change outfits already" - Yaicha
"I look like a white snowman prostitute" - Reade M. Salad
pictures to come soon
Those of you who say and do little random acts of love and who I wish I could do the same for constantly every day. Who give me hand written/created cards on normal Thursdays. Who write me one word texts that speak novels to me. Who give me little gifts (candles/soap) that mean lots to me (perfect timing b/c it's been on my list of things to get), who go on random adventures (like "sex clothing shopping"?) with me, who let me "just not talk about it", who encourage me to "talk about it", who drink far too much coffee with me, who drink far too much alcohal with me, who come to my birthday with their own special blue drinkie-drinks, who come to my birthday even after major surgery, who come to my birthday even from so far away, who come to my birthday and add lots of laughter/love/stories/uncomfortable moments, and who come to my birthday so obviously and powerfully in heart and spirit.
Yes. To all you guys and to lots more, I really appreciate being a part of your lives and having you a part of mine. My heart wouldn't beat the same strong rhythm without each of you in it.
Happy birthday to my momma bear, and to myself (we were both born on the 3rd (she's older than I am in case you were confused), so I am a day or two premature on this, but still, HAPPY!).
p.s. some favorite quotes/conversations from tonight/the past week:
"I just broke my underwear" - Colin
(seeing a group of guys in every variety outside of a bar in LA) - "Wow, Look at that adventure in boy sizes" - Colin (a very sincere comment).
(Bringing out way too much more food):
"I thought maybe ummm. . . we needed these stuffed mushrooms. . . to balance the meat balls"-yours truly
"yes! that's the problem with these whore-derve parties, there's so much good available you don't stop eating and drinking until everyone's sick. . . " - Reade Salad
". . . And THATS where the real fun starts. . . " - Garth
(no one stops eating or drinking)
"Yah. . . I had to change outfits already" - Yaicha
"I look like a white snowman prostitute" - Reade M. Salad
pictures to come soon
Monday, February 18, 2008
Jesus is back (from a previous blog) and He's pissed.
we're doomed.
" This was the dramatic scene as the world's largest statue of Jesus was hit by lightning.
(article/pic taken from: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/worldnews.html?in_article_id=513855&in_page_id=1811)
" This was the dramatic scene as the world's largest statue of Jesus was hit by lightning.
The bolt parted the thunderclouds over Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, to strike Christ the Redeemer.
The statue is 130ft tall, is made of 700 tons of reinforced concrete and stands atop the 2,296ft Corcovado mountain overlooking the city."
(article/pic taken from: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/worldnews.html?in_article_id=513855&in_page_id=1811)
Paradise: I have arrived
I should have called this post: "PIGEONS: I have arrived" (explanation to come).
I moved into my new place (finally). With the help of a certain panda bear, my new bed has also finally been purchased and ever so lovingly placed in it's new home for me to rest my weary (and very owwy) shoulders on. No more broken sofa bed = a very happy Belly.
This place is amazing on so many levels. What seemed like a quiet dark little back road when I first checked it out (in the pouring rain of one late night) now shows it's true colors (and noises):
I have a private "tenants" garden in the back (which we are planning on putting a little level/deck in part of to make space for a BBQ area) and I can't wait to start planting some yummy spices and goodies.
The entire yard is covered in great little accents ranging from random stone sculls placed here and there under beautiful little trees, and a vast array of flowers and vines. There's even a little pond with fishies swimmin' around. There is a nice little deck off the back (perfect for pancake breakfasts) and two patios off either side (one with a never ending supply of Bamboo stretching up it's side, the other sitting at the top of a palm tree). Although the views are amazing from any side of this little home of mine, it's the French windows at the front that take the cake. Open those babies up for a nice breeze while you gaze out at the mountains and Hollywood sign during the day, or a blanket of city lights at night.
The SOUNDS. . . Man. . . Where do I even begin? At some points (like now, fortunately) all you hear is the breeze flowing through the trees outside, little chirping birds singing love songs to each other and a random outburst from the local kids (there are tons of them) running from yard to yard around the street (once the sun came out and the rain cleared, this quiet weird little street turned into a community with families and puppies all over the place).
My new home's soundtrack has mostly, tho, consisted of a Rooster who likes to sleep in till 2pm then start his proud cocka-doodle-dooing, a guy who thinks it's OK to HOOOONNNNKKKKKKK (and I mean lean on for 10 minutes) his horn at 630a, and the most random smash up of Mexican melodies coming from three different houses all at any given time. Oh yah, and pigeons having a party (probably a fiesta) up in my ceiling. Ohhh the pigeons. Where do I even begin? We're pretty convinced that they are the top-dogs(birds) of the block, possibly even drug lords. I think they have little deals and meetings every hour or so that mainly take place up in the rafters above my place. That or there is a family with 20 bird-kids, and the momma pigeon does a lot of re-arranging and cleaning all day. It's just a constant scurrying around - sounds like she's moving her pigeon-furniture back and fourth trying to get the place setup JUSTTTT right. How do I know they are pigeons and not rats? Evidence:
They are really starting to get too comfortable around here, I think I saw one sunbathing naked on the roof earlier, and because they aren't helping out with the rent, we've decided to post their little eviction notice up on their wall and give em the boot (Mark - of Annie and Mark - the two AMAZING people who own this house - has so kindly gone and rigged a little "pigeon-proof" gate over their entrance)
.
I'm pretty sure they all went out for lunch (probably sandwiches), because while he was putting up the blockade, no one was home. . .
Ten minutes later, a little guy came flying back and after realizing he couldn't get in, sat for a while on the patio looking up in complete and udder confusion, scratching his little pigeon feathered head.
(I spy with my little eye two pigeon beaks)
Sorry bud, there are going to be some big changes coming this year, and you getting kicked out of your home unfortunately has to be one of them (I am a jerk).
Don't get me wrong, tho, I love every second of it here in this place and I'm so happy to finally be back OFFICIALLY in Los Angeles (I could do without Mr. Horn Blower, but I'll deal).
Other than that, I miss life with Carolyn (even with the hellish sleeping situation) and I miss whiskey still. Not for long, tho, as I am going back up to Santa Barbara tomorrow to hang with C-Dawg and come next Thursday I'll be back for my visit with the whiskey girl.
I moved into my new place (finally). With the help of a certain panda bear, my new bed has also finally been purchased and ever so lovingly placed in it's new home for me to rest my weary (and very owwy) shoulders on. No more broken sofa bed = a very happy Belly.This place is amazing on so many levels. What seemed like a quiet dark little back road when I first checked it out (in the pouring rain of one late night) now shows it's true colors (and noises):
I have a private "tenants" garden in the back (which we are planning on putting a little level/deck in part of to make space for a BBQ area) and I can't wait to start planting some yummy spices and goodies.
The entire yard is covered in great little accents ranging from random stone sculls placed here and there under beautiful little trees, and a vast array of flowers and vines. There's even a little pond with fishies swimmin' around. There is a nice little deck off the back (perfect for pancake breakfasts) and two patios off either side (one with a never ending supply of Bamboo stretching up it's side, the other sitting at the top of a palm tree). Although the views are amazing from any side of this little home of mine, it's the French windows at the front that take the cake. Open those babies up for a nice breeze while you gaze out at the mountains and Hollywood sign during the day, or a blanket of city lights at night.
The SOUNDS. . . Man. . . Where do I even begin? At some points (like now, fortunately) all you hear is the breeze flowing through the trees outside, little chirping birds singing love songs to each other and a random outburst from the local kids (there are tons of them) running from yard to yard around the street (once the sun came out and the rain cleared, this quiet weird little street turned into a community with families and puppies all over the place).
My new home's soundtrack has mostly, tho, consisted of a Rooster who likes to sleep in till 2pm then start his proud cocka-doodle-dooing, a guy who thinks it's OK to HOOOONNNNKKKKKKK (and I mean lean on for 10 minutes) his horn at 630a, and the most random smash up of Mexican melodies coming from three different houses all at any given time. Oh yah, and pigeons having a party (probably a fiesta) up in my ceiling. Ohhh the pigeons. Where do I even begin? We're pretty convinced that they are the top-dogs(birds) of the block, possibly even drug lords. I think they have little deals and meetings every hour or so that mainly take place up in the rafters above my place. That or there is a family with 20 bird-kids, and the momma pigeon does a lot of re-arranging and cleaning all day. It's just a constant scurrying around - sounds like she's moving her pigeon-furniture back and fourth trying to get the place setup JUSTTTT right. How do I know they are pigeons and not rats? Evidence:
They are really starting to get too comfortable around here, I think I saw one sunbathing naked on the roof earlier, and because they aren't helping out with the rent, we've decided to post their little eviction notice up on their wall and give em the boot (Mark - of Annie and Mark - the two AMAZING people who own this house - has so kindly gone and rigged a little "pigeon-proof" gate over their entrance)
.I'm pretty sure they all went out for lunch (probably sandwiches), because while he was putting up the blockade, no one was home. . .
Ten minutes later, a little guy came flying back and after realizing he couldn't get in, sat for a while on the patio looking up in complete and udder confusion, scratching his little pigeon feathered head.
(I spy with my little eye two pigeon beaks)
Sorry bud, there are going to be some big changes coming this year, and you getting kicked out of your home unfortunately has to be one of them (I am a jerk).
Don't get me wrong, tho, I love every second of it here in this place and I'm so happy to finally be back OFFICIALLY in Los Angeles (I could do without Mr. Horn Blower, but I'll deal).
Other than that, I miss life with Carolyn (even with the hellish sleeping situation) and I miss whiskey still. Not for long, tho, as I am going back up to Santa Barbara tomorrow to hang with C-Dawg and come next Thursday I'll be back for my visit with the whiskey girl.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
A new born bloggy.
Currently Listening to: J. Mehler "if you wanna cry" (i.e. genius playing a genius song).
With all of the beautiful newborn babies coming into the world these days (and in front of my lens) I feel this blog title is fitting.
I heard someone say "happy new year" to a friend today and the friend responded "it is officially the first month of the year that we are not allowed to say happy new year until 2009". Who made that rule? I vote against it. I'll continue saying happy 2008 until new years eve, and you know what, I believe it WILL be a very happy 2008.
The launch of the new site/new materials are finally in the works, and everything should be brand spankin' fresh and ready by the end of March (keep your fingers crossed and your patience levels high)!
Here's a big yummy cheers (fill your e-glasses with your drink of choice) to a Happy 2008! Let the shutters click, the votes be cast, and most importantly, the good times be had.
With all of the beautiful newborn babies coming into the world these days (and in front of my lens) I feel this blog title is fitting.
I heard someone say "happy new year" to a friend today and the friend responded "it is officially the first month of the year that we are not allowed to say happy new year until 2009". Who made that rule? I vote against it. I'll continue saying happy 2008 until new years eve, and you know what, I believe it WILL be a very happy 2008.
The launch of the new site/new materials are finally in the works, and everything should be brand spankin' fresh and ready by the end of March (keep your fingers crossed and your patience levels high)!
Here's a big yummy cheers (fill your e-glasses with your drink of choice) to a Happy 2008! Let the shutters click, the votes be cast, and most importantly, the good times be had.
Friday, February 8, 2008
This day MUST go down in the B(log)OOKS.
I want to keep asking myself if this day could get any more bizarre, JUST so that it DOES (it seems every time I've asked that today, something else happens).
Let's start with this morning. I woke up singing. WHAT? Singing? Yes. Singing a song from my elementary school days. Which song you ask? Nope, not "inch-by-inch", not even "Turn-The-Butter" (a very popular ditty from the 3rd grade era). . . The song I woke up singing was some Hebrew song we learned called.. "Shima Yisrael"(why we had to learn so much Hebrew I have yet to learn, but I'm happy we did because it lead to this morning's episode). I had no idea how to even deal with the fact that I woke up singing that, so in complete confusion I tried to ignore it for the time being, turned off my alarm (1 minute before it went off! Love that) and rolled (literally) out of bed.
Carolyn and I dedicated this day to cleaning day (read: 1.5 hours spent doing laundry, 6 hours spent procrastinating 2 hours spent eating/drinking coffee, and 30 minutes of "power cleaning"). We started out day bright and early (10:00am?) at the local Laundry Matt. THIS is where we both actually started fearing that the world was coming to an end. Every single person was losing their minds there. I kid you not, Every. Single. Person. Let's start with the two old women who came in to use the computers/internet. They walked right up to where our cart was blocking one of the 5 empty chairs, and stood there in pure disgust looking around for whoever the jerks were that were blocking them from access to that one specific computer. Going to move the cart for them, we were highly entertained by the fact that they seemed to be speaking in some sort of code to each other. Not to mention, they both were sporting some sort of 80's arobasize-gone old woman flower power pattern-(gone homeless?) attire. I really think they had something going here and will keep my eyes out for the new fads in the upcoming Vogue (I actually would not be shocked to see something like that in some schmansy "trying to be weird" fashion shoot gone wrong)... Hideous. Fantastic.
The best part was when the woman got up to walk by us and Carolyn GRABBED her little laundry cart like she was going to try and steal it. Way to protect the goods, little sis!
Which laundry-mat character is up next? Ahhh yes. . . The girl with the dog.
First of all, please do not bring your dog to the laundry matt where people are trying to CLEAN their clothes of things such as dirt and animal hair. I don't care how cute it is (this dog was not cute, and actually if it was I probably wouldn't have cared. . . Obviously I am a shallow, horrible person). I really can't say much more than this image about the whole girl+dog situation. It was weird, it bothered me in odd ways, and the dog kept rolling around in it's cart from the uneven wheels, drifting from dryer to dryer without it's owner even being aware.
There's more. There was a guy (who had obviously never actually used the laundry matt's washing machines for his own clothing) that kept walking in and passing by Carolyn and I. Each time he'd pass, getting CLOSER and closer. He'd walk in and walk to the back of the laundry mat and do nothing, then come back up to the front and ask someone to give him a quarter for two dimes and a nickel, then walk out and be back again for the same routine about a minute later.
As this guy kept up his cycle, we took notes on the random guy standing right outside the laundry matt door waving at people and directing them on up the road as they exited the building. VERY odd. No further comments for him, because at this point everything seemed so off in the world that C-dawg and I really thought it might be ending. "Where were you at the end of the world?" I was doing my dirty laundry.
Fast forward through some random small bumps in the norm', and pause at the part when we went to dinner (sushi of course). I actually think they put pot in our sushi. The spicy tuna roll was FANTASTIC, but really did smell like it was loaded full of fresh bud.
And oddly enough, the whole meal just started seeming better and better AFTER I ate said pot-roll. Do you want to know what one of the most awkward things to do (as a waiter) to a customer is? I'll tell you because it happened to me tonight.
Step 1. Come up with a nice big pitcher and ask if you'd like some more water.
Step 2. Wait for an answer,
Step 3. When your customer says "yes please" and starts to raise her glass for you, awkwardly walk away without filling glass.
Step 4. Enjoy as the oddness factor settles in.
So.. Bellies stuffed and stoned off our asses, Carolyn and I venture back to do our 30 minutes of cleaning that we left all day open to do. I seriously wish I could say we had matching head bands and roller skates with rags on the bottoms of them (like in Pippy Longstocking)... But alas, it was just us with our regular rags.
Cleaning finished, it's time for the best part of the day here at the King-Apartment. Time for each of us to sit on our laptops with headphones on where we can still see each other but enjoy different tastes of music and IM completely awkward comments to each other form 5 feet away (who needs actual talking anymore anyway?)
Here's how our conversation's been going so far:
"I want to go dancing" - Carolyn
"I just took my pants off" - Michelle
(long silence)
"I actually just saw a bat fly across the room out of the corner of my eye. I think I'm Hallucinating. But really, I did see it. Wings flapping and everything." - Carolyn
(more awkward silence/laughter)
"I haven't even ever taken any hard core drugs or anything" - Carolyn
(lots of laughs).
So. There you have it.
p.s. currently listening to: some Hebrew song.
Let's start with this morning. I woke up singing. WHAT? Singing? Yes. Singing a song from my elementary school days. Which song you ask? Nope, not "inch-by-inch", not even "Turn-The-Butter" (a very popular ditty from the 3rd grade era). . . The song I woke up singing was some Hebrew song we learned called.. "Shima Yisrael"(why we had to learn so much Hebrew I have yet to learn, but I'm happy we did because it lead to this morning's episode). I had no idea how to even deal with the fact that I woke up singing that, so in complete confusion I tried to ignore it for the time being, turned off my alarm (1 minute before it went off! Love that) and rolled (literally) out of bed.
Carolyn and I dedicated this day to cleaning day (read: 1.5 hours spent doing laundry, 6 hours spent procrastinating 2 hours spent eating/drinking coffee, and 30 minutes of "power cleaning"). We started out day bright and early (10:00am?) at the local Laundry Matt. THIS is where we both actually started fearing that the world was coming to an end. Every single person was losing their minds there. I kid you not, Every. Single. Person. Let's start with the two old women who came in to use the computers/internet. They walked right up to where our cart was blocking one of the 5 empty chairs, and stood there in pure disgust looking around for whoever the jerks were that were blocking them from access to that one specific computer. Going to move the cart for them, we were highly entertained by the fact that they seemed to be speaking in some sort of code to each other. Not to mention, they both were sporting some sort of 80's arobasize-gone old woman flower power pattern-(gone homeless?) attire. I really think they had something going here and will keep my eyes out for the new fads in the upcoming Vogue (I actually would not be shocked to see something like that in some schmansy "trying to be weird" fashion shoot gone wrong)... Hideous. Fantastic.The best part was when the woman got up to walk by us and Carolyn GRABBED her little laundry cart like she was going to try and steal it. Way to protect the goods, little sis!
Which laundry-mat character is up next? Ahhh yes. . . The girl with the dog.
First of all, please do not bring your dog to the laundry matt where people are trying to CLEAN their clothes of things such as dirt and animal hair. I don't care how cute it is (this dog was not cute, and actually if it was I probably wouldn't have cared. . . Obviously I am a shallow, horrible person). I really can't say much more than this image about the whole girl+dog situation. It was weird, it bothered me in odd ways, and the dog kept rolling around in it's cart from the uneven wheels, drifting from dryer to dryer without it's owner even being aware.There's more. There was a guy (who had obviously never actually used the laundry matt's washing machines for his own clothing) that kept walking in and passing by Carolyn and I. Each time he'd pass, getting CLOSER and closer. He'd walk in and walk to the back of the laundry mat and do nothing, then come back up to the front and ask someone to give him a quarter for two dimes and a nickel, then walk out and be back again for the same routine about a minute later.
As this guy kept up his cycle, we took notes on the random guy standing right outside the laundry matt door waving at people and directing them on up the road as they exited the building. VERY odd. No further comments for him, because at this point everything seemed so off in the world that C-dawg and I really thought it might be ending. "Where were you at the end of the world?" I was doing my dirty laundry.
Fast forward through some random small bumps in the norm', and pause at the part when we went to dinner (sushi of course). I actually think they put pot in our sushi. The spicy tuna roll was FANTASTIC, but really did smell like it was loaded full of fresh bud.
And oddly enough, the whole meal just started seeming better and better AFTER I ate said pot-roll. Do you want to know what one of the most awkward things to do (as a waiter) to a customer is? I'll tell you because it happened to me tonight.Step 1. Come up with a nice big pitcher and ask if you'd like some more water.
Step 2. Wait for an answer,
Step 3. When your customer says "yes please" and starts to raise her glass for you, awkwardly walk away without filling glass.
Step 4. Enjoy as the oddness factor settles in.
So.. Bellies stuffed and stoned off our asses, Carolyn and I venture back to do our 30 minutes of cleaning that we left all day open to do. I seriously wish I could say we had matching head bands and roller skates with rags on the bottoms of them (like in Pippy Longstocking)... But alas, it was just us with our regular rags.
Cleaning finished, it's time for the best part of the day here at the King-Apartment. Time for each of us to sit on our laptops with headphones on where we can still see each other but enjoy different tastes of music and IM completely awkward comments to each other form 5 feet away (who needs actual talking anymore anyway?)
Here's how our conversation's been going so far:
"I want to go dancing" - Carolyn
"I just took my pants off" - Michelle
(long silence)
"I actually just saw a bat fly across the room out of the corner of my eye. I think I'm Hallucinating. But really, I did see it. Wings flapping and everything." - Carolyn
(more awkward silence/laughter)
"I haven't even ever taken any hard core drugs or anything" - Carolyn
(lots of laughs).
So. There you have it.
p.s. currently listening to: some Hebrew song.
Friday, February 1, 2008
"raise your glasses please into a toast"
To all of my fellow Philadelphia-area-ans, I have officially booked myself a ticket-to-ride! Back to the land of the Athyns from the 28th - the 4th. As you ALL know, my birthday is the 3rd... Do I smell lots of wine and good time laughs with all of you? I think I do.
See you then!
p.s. No one is allowed to leave town during this time.
p.p.s. Do NOT tell whiskey, I'm going to surprise her.
I love cuties
Currently listening to: Sigur Rós - ÁLafoss
I started out with a picture, because it is the most honest and straight forward (sarcasm) representation of my past couple of days: Pirates eye patches, a little fist shakin', cuties, and overall good times.
Trekin' back down the 101 for yet another day visit to LA, I read someone's what looked to be hand-made rip off bumper sticker on the back of a what looked to be hand-made van. It read: BumpHerStickHer . I sped up, of course, to see who drove the cliché white van sans-windows with the even more cliché sticker attached. . . And to my disgust (I don't know why, but it was disturbing beyond belief) there in the drivers seat was this very large woman wearing a bright yellow shirt with a matching bright yellow baseball cap.
I would have taken a picture but the whole photographing things while operating a motorized vehicle in crazy LA traffic just seems a bit selfish (although I've done it before, stupidly I know).
The image (unfortunately) has been burnt into my brain, however.
By the time I'd shaken off the creeps, I arrived at what will be my place to call home. Signing my lease brought an instant feeling of having so much weight lifted from my back. Even tho my belongings remain mostly packed in boxes until mid Feb. when I move in, just knowing that I have a place to call home feels amazing. This spot is perfect for me. It's a big open studio space with a kitchen and separate bathroom (I have to point out the luxury of having a separate bathroom, because I've actually looked at a place where the toilet was right there next to the kitchen sink with no walls in between. . . Come on people, this is LA not NY - no offense to my NYers).
Got a moment to spend some solid one-on-one music-sharing, laugh-having, all around good time fun with Kirdy. What a beautiful girl. I live for bright spirits like hers.
Headed out to Santa Monica to sign a contract for a wedding (I also live for photographing creative people who are glowing with love). Checked out some furniture at random spots in the area for the new place, and then headed to meet up with Mr. Panda (for the sake of his celebrity panda status, I will not mention his full panda name yet, but let me say, he's a very very famous panda). Panda and I decided to meet on Abbot Kinney for a good ol' cup o' joe, which ended up being a belly-laugh-filled (no pun intended on the Belly), inspiring, 6 hour talk over a nice cold fat tire (yummy). We mashed inappropriate with acceptable, insanity with sanity, awkward with complete comfort, and touchy emotional mush with funny-slap-you-in-the-face stories of the past (and of our very much loved Dads). Incredible. The only down side of my day, really, was realizing that I have to drive two hours back to Santa Barbara at the end of it all.
I arrived back in the wee hours of the morning, and once inside the door I believe it took about 3.5 steps and 47.2 seconds for me to drop everything, shed my clothes, and be completely passed out under a massive pile of new blankets (thanks mom!) on my oh-so-comfortable (more sarcasm mixed with very painful back/shoulders) broken futon couch that is my "bed".
Time for sleep.
P.S. Rabbit Rabbit
I started out with a picture, because it is the most honest and straight forward (sarcasm) representation of my past couple of days: Pirates eye patches, a little fist shakin', cuties, and overall good times.
Trekin' back down the 101 for yet another day visit to LA, I read someone's what looked to be hand-made rip off bumper sticker on the back of a what looked to be hand-made van. It read: BumpHerStickHer . I sped up, of course, to see who drove the cliché white van sans-windows with the even more cliché sticker attached. . . And to my disgust (I don't know why, but it was disturbing beyond belief) there in the drivers seat was this very large woman wearing a bright yellow shirt with a matching bright yellow baseball cap.
I would have taken a picture but the whole photographing things while operating a motorized vehicle in crazy LA traffic just seems a bit selfish (although I've done it before, stupidly I know).
The image (unfortunately) has been burnt into my brain, however.
By the time I'd shaken off the creeps, I arrived at what will be my place to call home. Signing my lease brought an instant feeling of having so much weight lifted from my back. Even tho my belongings remain mostly packed in boxes until mid Feb. when I move in, just knowing that I have a place to call home feels amazing. This spot is perfect for me. It's a big open studio space with a kitchen and separate bathroom (I have to point out the luxury of having a separate bathroom, because I've actually looked at a place where the toilet was right there next to the kitchen sink with no walls in between. . . Come on people, this is LA not NY - no offense to my NYers).
Got a moment to spend some solid one-on-one music-sharing, laugh-having, all around good time fun with Kirdy. What a beautiful girl. I live for bright spirits like hers.
Headed out to Santa Monica to sign a contract for a wedding (I also live for photographing creative people who are glowing with love). Checked out some furniture at random spots in the area for the new place, and then headed to meet up with Mr. Panda (for the sake of his celebrity panda status, I will not mention his full panda name yet, but let me say, he's a very very famous panda). Panda and I decided to meet on Abbot Kinney for a good ol' cup o' joe, which ended up being a belly-laugh-filled (no pun intended on the Belly), inspiring, 6 hour talk over a nice cold fat tire (yummy). We mashed inappropriate with acceptable, insanity with sanity, awkward with complete comfort, and touchy emotional mush with funny-slap-you-in-the-face stories of the past (and of our very much loved Dads). Incredible. The only down side of my day, really, was realizing that I have to drive two hours back to Santa Barbara at the end of it all.
I arrived back in the wee hours of the morning, and once inside the door I believe it took about 3.5 steps and 47.2 seconds for me to drop everything, shed my clothes, and be completely passed out under a massive pile of new blankets (thanks mom!) on my oh-so-comfortable (more sarcasm mixed with very painful back/shoulders) broken futon couch that is my "bed".
Time for sleep.
P.S. Rabbit Rabbit
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Welcome home to Los Angeles, me.
Before I start let the record state: I have just made the largest, strongest mixed drinks possibly on earth (to be shared with my sister, of course). It's been a while since I've had any poisonous beverages, so although I have not yet fallen victim to these liquids, I can not promise that by the time I finish this loving blog, things will NOT seem the same in Belly World.
Weather: The rain has been pouring down for I think a solid week now, so much that I am considering building myself an arc and loading up my lenses and cameras two by two, just in case this doesn't end. Santa Barbara, for those of you who do not know, I believe was built to become one with the ocean every time one rain drop decides to show itself. Seriously, it MISTS here (very rarely) and the people loose their minds, run for the hills (because that's where their multi-million dollar homes are), and the roads have a contest on who can flood the fastest. I've seen people floating down some of them on their surf boards. Unreal.
Alas, I put on my mucker boots, and headed south to (not such warmer but a lot more rainy weather in ) LA. The apartment hunting. Oh sweet sweet apartment hunting.
So far, I have been finding listings online to check out that look somewhat like this:
and upon arrival of said apartments, find them to more of the likes of this little guy:
Other than the SLIGHT dramatic additions, I kid you not, people are complete liars . It is amazingly exhausting. I ended up finishing all of my appointments, disappointed and soaked, way earlier than planned, and so ducked into a local coffee shop (thank God for coffee, right?) to warm my belly and try out their internet connection. Thank God for free Internet too, because I needed the freak-out session with Jay and thank GOD (again) he's more of an insomniac than I am, because although it's 8 hours later for him, he was still wide awake and waiting for web-cam-talky-time. I settled into my not-so-comfy chair in the café, and before having a second to really get myself together, was realizing that the man sitting beside me was... well.. "getting myself together" in his mind. *sigh*. So, there I am... Sitting on the side of Santa Monica BLV in my car, stealing Internet from the local café that I was illegally parked outside of, asking J if this day could possibly go any worse. And before I could finish that exact question, BAM! What's that?! Ahhh yes, a local homeless man smashes his cart into the back of my car, and keeps going, scraping all sorts of cans and other beautifully hard sharp things along it's side, before heading off into the beautiful, down-pouring LA. Not of course, without first banging on my window and demanding money. Perhaps he was saving up to fix my car?
If you are still reading, I am sorry for being so blunt about the bitterness of what was this day, but it DOES get better, I promise.
I ventured over to Santa Monica, and met up with a beautiful couple to rap about their wedding photography. It amazes me that I am able to meet and photograph these amazing people and their stories, and actually get paid for it (yup, add that to the list of things to thank God for).
Meeting went so well, and so of course, I rewarded myself with a little visit to the apple store. Is that where God lives, btw? I think it might be.
I headed BACK to Silverlake after the meeting, and got to see and spend (too little) time with Brion, who's FINALLY back from Thailand (welcome back B!). So good to see that guy again, I can't wait to be neighbors with all of these FANTASTIC friends I have.
By the end of the night, my body soaked to the bone, my eyes weary, my heart a little disappointed and my brain racing, I decided to try out ONE last apartment before heading back up to Santa Barbara. OHHHH yes. Let this be the biggest thanks to God yet! Loved the space. Gated loft apartment on top of a Gothic craftsman house on the hills in Silverlake. Amazing views, two private decks, a garden. . . I don't want to venture TOO much into it yet, because I have only just sent in my application and haven't heard back from them yet. However, I sold better than a damn prostitute to those people, and rightfully so. It is rare that I actually gloat, but you know what? I consider myself a pretty damn good tenant.
It's freezing (I'm spoiled already, yes I realize it's about 5 degrees back home, but I FEEL like it's freezing here too). My back continues to hate me more and more each night I sleep on this damn futon. All of my stuff is still in boxes and I don't have a place (100% booked) yet to live in LA. However, despite all of that, it still feels damn good to finally be back in CA.
Carolyn and I are currently both sitting on the floor of our apartment, each on our own computers, staring back and fourth at each other awkwardly, IMing each other instead of vocalizing anything (we are about 5 feet apart).
I think the drinky drinks are starting to kick in. Good times, GREAT days. LOVE!
Weather: The rain has been pouring down for I think a solid week now, so much that I am considering building myself an arc and loading up my lenses and cameras two by two, just in case this doesn't end. Santa Barbara, for those of you who do not know, I believe was built to become one with the ocean every time one rain drop decides to show itself. Seriously, it MISTS here (very rarely) and the people loose their minds, run for the hills (because that's where their multi-million dollar homes are), and the roads have a contest on who can flood the fastest. I've seen people floating down some of them on their surf boards. Unreal.
Alas, I put on my mucker boots, and headed south to (not such warmer but a lot more rainy weather in ) LA. The apartment hunting. Oh sweet sweet apartment hunting.
So far, I have been finding listings online to check out that look somewhat like this:
and upon arrival of said apartments, find them to more of the likes of this little guy:
Other than the SLIGHT dramatic additions, I kid you not, people are complete liars . It is amazingly exhausting. I ended up finishing all of my appointments, disappointed and soaked, way earlier than planned, and so ducked into a local coffee shop (thank God for coffee, right?) to warm my belly and try out their internet connection. Thank God for free Internet too, because I needed the freak-out session with Jay and thank GOD (again) he's more of an insomniac than I am, because although it's 8 hours later for him, he was still wide awake and waiting for web-cam-talky-time. I settled into my not-so-comfy chair in the café, and before having a second to really get myself together, was realizing that the man sitting beside me was... well.. "getting myself together" in his mind. *sigh*. So, there I am... Sitting on the side of Santa Monica BLV in my car, stealing Internet from the local café that I was illegally parked outside of, asking J if this day could possibly go any worse. And before I could finish that exact question, BAM! What's that?! Ahhh yes, a local homeless man smashes his cart into the back of my car, and keeps going, scraping all sorts of cans and other beautifully hard sharp things along it's side, before heading off into the beautiful, down-pouring LA. Not of course, without first banging on my window and demanding money. Perhaps he was saving up to fix my car?
If you are still reading, I am sorry for being so blunt about the bitterness of what was this day, but it DOES get better, I promise.
I ventured over to Santa Monica, and met up with a beautiful couple to rap about their wedding photography. It amazes me that I am able to meet and photograph these amazing people and their stories, and actually get paid for it (yup, add that to the list of things to thank God for).
Meeting went so well, and so of course, I rewarded myself with a little visit to the apple store. Is that where God lives, btw? I think it might be.
I headed BACK to Silverlake after the meeting, and got to see and spend (too little) time with Brion, who's FINALLY back from Thailand (welcome back B!). So good to see that guy again, I can't wait to be neighbors with all of these FANTASTIC friends I have.
By the end of the night, my body soaked to the bone, my eyes weary, my heart a little disappointed and my brain racing, I decided to try out ONE last apartment before heading back up to Santa Barbara. OHHHH yes. Let this be the biggest thanks to God yet! Loved the space. Gated loft apartment on top of a Gothic craftsman house on the hills in Silverlake. Amazing views, two private decks, a garden. . . I don't want to venture TOO much into it yet, because I have only just sent in my application and haven't heard back from them yet. However, I sold better than a damn prostitute to those people, and rightfully so. It is rare that I actually gloat, but you know what? I consider myself a pretty damn good tenant.
It's freezing (I'm spoiled already, yes I realize it's about 5 degrees back home, but I FEEL like it's freezing here too). My back continues to hate me more and more each night I sleep on this damn futon. All of my stuff is still in boxes and I don't have a place (100% booked) yet to live in LA. However, despite all of that, it still feels damn good to finally be back in CA.
Carolyn and I are currently both sitting on the floor of our apartment, each on our own computers, staring back and fourth at each other awkwardly, IMing each other instead of vocalizing anything (we are about 5 feet apart).
I think the drinky drinks are starting to kick in. Good times, GREAT days. LOVE!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Our first full, active day in Santa Barbara
"It is Often Merely for an excuse that we say things are impossible". - Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Carolyn left us wayyyyy to early for her big first day at the Bacara (http://www.bacararesort.com)
.
We woke up in pain. 1/2 from a broken heart that Gui-Gui-Sup-Boop-Boop wasn't here to spend the day with us, and 1/2 from this extremely uncomfortable futon sofa. I froze my ass off all night, and Joel spent the night sweating hot and ended up sleeping on the floor under the coffee table. Good times? Not yet.
First thing's first: Off to the neighbors (The Daily Grind Café) for some coffee. Once we were good and loaded with our fix, we ventured out to get some borrrrring errands taken care of (Fix phone, change oil, etc.) I forgot that everyone in Santa Barbara thinks this is an Island, and runs on Island Time... Love it, but absolutely NOT used to it yet.
Next: Thrift store hunting. What the hell happened to this city since I've left? So many of my favorite ma' and pa' places (coffee houses, thrift stores, etc.) have been overrun but corporate spots. Such BS! Old Navy?! There is actually a new Starbucks (ANOTHER ONE... I mean God knows I love my S-Bux... but come on people... three a block is enoughhhh). There's one actually now right (no joke) across the street from a new Coffee Bean. Wow. Way overboard. I think I'll go get coffee at the Tea Leaf and pop on into Starbucks to use their restrooms tomorrow. . . See what kind of trouble I can rough up in these mellow Santa Barbara streets.
There were thousands of Navy Seals all over the place today. A Sea of white caps everywhere you turn. Why? Because the USS Ronald Reagan has docked right off of the Santa Barbara Harbor for a bit to say hello. SO cool to see that thing right there in person. HUGE!
Here's the first news clip I found on it (I'm feeling lazy so take what you can) http://www.keyt.com/news/local/13511927.html
Drew the plumber came over to fix the sink. . . Should have taken him 5 minutes, but he was here for about 2.5 hours because we all refused to stop sharing random stories / opinions / etc. on just about every topic possible. And we're happy he was, what a great character. Good to meet ya' Drew buddy! And thanks for giving us back the bathroom sink.
Carolyn is back, and after a full day in the kitchen, apparently not feeling so up for cooking in tonight. We're heading out to find some comfort food (comfort food in the King family = sushi, yummy!).
I miss the hell out of my friends and family, and WHISKEY baby back home, and hope every one's doing well. Keep me updated, everyone! I might have left the east coast, but I'm only a hop-skip-and phone call away.
X!
Carolyn left us wayyyyy to early for her big first day at the Bacara (http://www.bacararesort.com)
.We woke up in pain. 1/2 from a broken heart that Gui-Gui-Sup-Boop-Boop wasn't here to spend the day with us, and 1/2 from this extremely uncomfortable futon sofa. I froze my ass off all night, and Joel spent the night sweating hot and ended up sleeping on the floor under the coffee table. Good times? Not yet.
First thing's first: Off to the neighbors (The Daily Grind Café) for some coffee. Once we were good and loaded with our fix, we ventured out to get some borrrrring errands taken care of (Fix phone, change oil, etc.) I forgot that everyone in Santa Barbara thinks this is an Island, and runs on Island Time... Love it, but absolutely NOT used to it yet.
Next: Thrift store hunting. What the hell happened to this city since I've left? So many of my favorite ma' and pa' places (coffee houses, thrift stores, etc.) have been overrun but corporate spots. Such BS! Old Navy?! There is actually a new Starbucks (ANOTHER ONE... I mean God knows I love my S-Bux... but come on people... three a block is enoughhhh). There's one actually now right (no joke) across the street from a new Coffee Bean. Wow. Way overboard. I think I'll go get coffee at the Tea Leaf and pop on into Starbucks to use their restrooms tomorrow. . . See what kind of trouble I can rough up in these mellow Santa Barbara streets.
There were thousands of Navy Seals all over the place today. A Sea of white caps everywhere you turn. Why? Because the USS Ronald Reagan has docked right off of the Santa Barbara Harbor for a bit to say hello. SO cool to see that thing right there in person. HUGE!
Here's the first news clip I found on it (I'm feeling lazy so take what you can) http://www.keyt.com/news/local/13511927.html
Drew the plumber came over to fix the sink. . . Should have taken him 5 minutes, but he was here for about 2.5 hours because we all refused to stop sharing random stories / opinions / etc. on just about every topic possible. And we're happy he was, what a great character. Good to meet ya' Drew buddy! And thanks for giving us back the bathroom sink.
Carolyn is back, and after a full day in the kitchen, apparently not feeling so up for cooking in tonight. We're heading out to find some comfort food (comfort food in the King family = sushi, yummy!).
I miss the hell out of my friends and family, and WHISKEY baby back home, and hope every one's doing well. Keep me updated, everyone! I might have left the east coast, but I'm only a hop-skip-and phone call away.
X!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Road Trip: Day 2 (last day)
Apparently this road trip blog is short-lived with a mere two days, because Mr. P and MK pushed through, reaching their destination after 2 days and 4 hours of straight driving (other than waiting out the Tornado for 7 hours).
Quick Recap of the last day:
A cop pulled me over in Texas for "speeding". I wasn't. I think he was bored and I seemed like the perfect excuse to pull an absurd dramatic U-Turn from one side of the freeway, into the ditch/median, and onto our side. He was. . . nice. . . I guess. Gave me a "warning" and wouldn't tell me how fast "he clocked me for". BS... But I gladly accepted the warning over a ticket. . . Not to mention (OK, I'm mentioning it), he basically said he found it silly I was moving to the west coast where everything is "twice as expensive", and he'd only give me a warning because I was about to "get raped by California anyway". WOW. Thank you, officer.
Our TomTom GPS's name is Mandy. . . She turned out to be a real whore. When we stopped in Flagstaff, AZ for (more) coffee and fuel, we are almost certain she teamed up with Bonnie (one of the other voices available on GPS) and got drunk. Basically we spent 10 minutes (10 minutes too long) wandering around dark late-night back roads trying to find out freeway entrance because Mandy decided she only wanted to say "GO RIGHT" for the rest of the evening. . . We gave her a good fist shakin' scream, and she snapped back into action, sobered up, and soon we were back on our way.
I think they poisoned our "coffee" at one of the last stops, or maybe it was the Scarlet Fever that I apparently somehow got, because we both blacked out around 300 miles from CA and then somehow ended up here, safe and sound (and warm) in good ol' Santa Bizzle. God I've missed this place... So happy to be home in CA, although my better 1/2 (whiskey) is greatly missed.
Pictures to come once I collect myself, take a nap, and get a proper internet connection, vs. this stolen one.
Quick Recap of the last day:
A cop pulled me over in Texas for "speeding". I wasn't. I think he was bored and I seemed like the perfect excuse to pull an absurd dramatic U-Turn from one side of the freeway, into the ditch/median, and onto our side. He was. . . nice. . . I guess. Gave me a "warning" and wouldn't tell me how fast "he clocked me for". BS... But I gladly accepted the warning over a ticket. . . Not to mention (OK, I'm mentioning it), he basically said he found it silly I was moving to the west coast where everything is "twice as expensive", and he'd only give me a warning because I was about to "get raped by California anyway". WOW. Thank you, officer.
Our TomTom GPS's name is Mandy. . . She turned out to be a real whore. When we stopped in Flagstaff, AZ for (more) coffee and fuel, we are almost certain she teamed up with Bonnie (one of the other voices available on GPS) and got drunk. Basically we spent 10 minutes (10 minutes too long) wandering around dark late-night back roads trying to find out freeway entrance because Mandy decided she only wanted to say "GO RIGHT" for the rest of the evening. . . We gave her a good fist shakin' scream, and she snapped back into action, sobered up, and soon we were back on our way.
I think they poisoned our "coffee" at one of the last stops, or maybe it was the Scarlet Fever that I apparently somehow got, because we both blacked out around 300 miles from CA and then somehow ended up here, safe and sound (and warm) in good ol' Santa Bizzle. God I've missed this place... So happy to be home in CA, although my better 1/2 (whiskey) is greatly missed.
Pictures to come once I collect myself, take a nap, and get a proper internet connection, vs. this stolen one.
The Two Teeny Treckers Treck Across the Total Country.
At 849 sharp, fighting school busses and angry soccer moms for the right of way, Mr. P and MK set out on what we anticipate being the best journey of our lives.
Things start smoothly, jamming tunes that remind us of good times (everything from Wilco, to The Cobbs, to ECC and beyond. . . . FAR far beyond, as far beyond even as VNV Nation). The proud duo starts the morning off giving this trip a tittle of "The-Joel-Is-Quitting-Smoking-California-Tour". And guess what, all you non-believers, he DID quit. For three rest stops, he fought that damn urge like it was his job. On the fourth, though, we gave in to reality that a road trip where we are trying to push through as much as we little ones possibly can, might not be the BEST time to quit an addiction. Better luck next time Joel buddy.
So on we trudge, nicotine and caffeine fixes galore, straight into Jesus land. Where is Jesus land, you ask? Apparently it's the entire middle of the country. I've learned that people think Jesus lives in every big red barn around, or at least they sure do like to write his name in huge letters every empty surface possible. Not to mention the overwhelming and somewhat frightening over-sized crosses looming over the open farm land. And what's with all of these "catchy" phrases for forcing... SCARING jesus into people? My favorite I think is the one that's on every other billboard: "Got Jesus?" What happened to just plain old milk?
Let's talk about the completely unnesisarily loud (and very bad) country music they HAVE to play in every public bathroom around these parts. Very fitting though for the people that hang around the rest stops. Poor Joel was accompanied to the mens room by 4 very large, very intense cowboy/trucker/giants. He didn't really want to comment on the experience, so I can only imagine how traumatizing that must have been.
Our perfect weather suddenly takes a turn for "the Perfect Storm", as sun rays turn into sheets of rain dumping down on us and lightning throws it's angry fists all over the sky. I've never been more terrified in my life. Nor have I ever seen so much constant lightning like this. It is actually just spirals of lightning bolts going in complete horizontal circles around the entire sky. Most of the time you can't clearly even make out what the lightning is doing, because the rain is so dense. And pulling over for safety isn't really an option, because we can't see where the side of the road is. Probably safest to just keep driving, we agree. There are "TORNADO WARNING" signs everywhere and the Highway Patrol is urging people not to travel. By the way, are we at letter "J" yet for naming tornado's? Because it would be really convenient for this one to be named "Tornado Jesus".
After somehow managing to drive through the center of the storm, and traveling for a solid 16.5 hours, we are basically forced off of the streets, a bit reluctantly, by the lack of visibility, tornados surrounding us, and a nervous mother pleading with us to get off the roads. Tucked into our beds, the sleepy Mr. P and MK snuggle into our crunchy motel blankets and are lulled to bed by a constant blueish green lightning flicker and crashing thunder and rain outside. God... oops.. I mean, JESUS, save us.
Things start smoothly, jamming tunes that remind us of good times (everything from Wilco, to The Cobbs, to ECC and beyond. . . . FAR far beyond, as far beyond even as VNV Nation). The proud duo starts the morning off giving this trip a tittle of "The-Joel-Is-Quitting-Smoking-California-Tour". And guess what, all you non-believers, he DID quit. For three rest stops, he fought that damn urge like it was his job. On the fourth, though, we gave in to reality that a road trip where we are trying to push through as much as we little ones possibly can, might not be the BEST time to quit an addiction. Better luck next time Joel buddy.
So on we trudge, nicotine and caffeine fixes galore, straight into Jesus land. Where is Jesus land, you ask? Apparently it's the entire middle of the country. I've learned that people think Jesus lives in every big red barn around, or at least they sure do like to write his name in huge letters every empty surface possible. Not to mention the overwhelming and somewhat frightening over-sized crosses looming over the open farm land. And what's with all of these "catchy" phrases for forcing... SCARING jesus into people? My favorite I think is the one that's on every other billboard: "Got Jesus?" What happened to just plain old milk?
Let's talk about the completely unnesisarily loud (and very bad) country music they HAVE to play in every public bathroom around these parts. Very fitting though for the people that hang around the rest stops. Poor Joel was accompanied to the mens room by 4 very large, very intense cowboy/trucker/giants. He didn't really want to comment on the experience, so I can only imagine how traumatizing that must have been.
Our perfect weather suddenly takes a turn for "the Perfect Storm", as sun rays turn into sheets of rain dumping down on us and lightning throws it's angry fists all over the sky. I've never been more terrified in my life. Nor have I ever seen so much constant lightning like this. It is actually just spirals of lightning bolts going in complete horizontal circles around the entire sky. Most of the time you can't clearly even make out what the lightning is doing, because the rain is so dense. And pulling over for safety isn't really an option, because we can't see where the side of the road is. Probably safest to just keep driving, we agree. There are "TORNADO WARNING" signs everywhere and the Highway Patrol is urging people not to travel. By the way, are we at letter "J" yet for naming tornado's? Because it would be really convenient for this one to be named "Tornado Jesus".
After somehow managing to drive through the center of the storm, and traveling for a solid 16.5 hours, we are basically forced off of the streets, a bit reluctantly, by the lack of visibility, tornados surrounding us, and a nervous mother pleading with us to get off the roads. Tucked into our beds, the sleepy Mr. P and MK snuggle into our crunchy motel blankets and are lulled to bed by a constant blueish green lightning flicker and crashing thunder and rain outside. God... oops.. I mean, JESUS, save us.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
my last night (for a minute) on the east coast.
Wow. Where do I start? It's been a minute since I've written anything on here, or anywhere for that matter. Life's been throwing me tons of time-eaters, which has been amazing but extremely tiring. In a few hours I have to be fully packed and ready to go for the big drive back out to CA... After 16 months (I can't believe it's been that long), I am returning to the place where my heart feels full.
So I ended up spending the entire day yesterday (with the moral support of Amandoo and Carlatta) trying not to fall asleep (on top of my car) while packing my car like a jigsaw puzzle. So much moving boxes around, smooshing things into the tiniest of spaces available, realizing I probably don't need an entire box full of stuff I haven't touched or thought about since 2002, and letting go of my very loved brushed steel/glass desk. It was either the desk or the 12-string acoustic, so there really was no fight in that one (ohhh how many hours and hours you've served me well, sweet desk, I'm so sorry you are gettin' the boot this time).
Speaking of gettin' the boot, how do I explain to Whiskey (my bulldog)
that I'm not abandoning her FOREVER, and it's really the better thing for her to stay here with the family for a while when I first move. When my ex wasn't around anymore, she absolutely noticed that he'd gone MIA, and it took (believe it or not) a full month for her to stop waiting up ALL night for him to get home. Now I'm leaving her too?! I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Although it's not permanent, and it really is for her, and it would be selfish to bring her out right away, because she will be put into a small apartment with no yard/family/dogs to roam free with, not to mention thrown into a kennel on a weekly basis since I'll be traveling out of town more often than not. OK. Enough dog speak, I realize I have fully crossed the line in some peoples books of "normal" behavior/attachment to an animal, but oh well (btw as I type this she is curled up on my lap, snoring a soothing lullaby to me).
SO. Let's back-track a bit. I finally got a handle on wrapping up wedding season out here. What an amazing year it's been in the wedding world! I was blessed with meeting and working with so many amazing, inspiring couples, and I can't wait to get the new site/work up and running (yikes, that is a whole dif. world away it seems right now). After I got a grip on that, and was able to sort my life out a bit, I had a few free days to do some shoots that I've been wanting to do to balance out the wedding photography part of me. I was able to work with two amazing bands in the past couple of weeks: http://www.myspace.com/meowskers from Brooklyn - check them out, and if you are able to, go see a live show, there's more energy/character in those three guys than I've seen in a longggg while. It was such an easy shoot, despite waking up at 5am and driving to NY (the city I hate with a passion).
The second shoot was with the AMAZING band Illinois: http://www.myspace.com/illinois . Talk about pure genius. Those guys are not only just absolutely fantastic people, they are all individually creative and talented musicians. When you get that much talent meshed up together like that, whew it's quite the show. For all of you fans of the show Weeds out there, you'll really appreciate their tune nosebleed that was played for the 'brick dance' on one of the eppy's. Despite the completely unnecessary cold, and all of my equipment freezing up, the shoot went well and the shots are looking other-worldly. It's pure dedication when everyone is willing to shoot outside on location when the temp is averaging just above freezing. THANK YOU to the entire team + Amandoo for braving it out with me, it was SO worth it. The shots will be up soon-ish, and everyone (especially me) is super excited about how it all turned out.
So remember the car packed like a puzzle? The one that took me all day to pack? I was driving down the pike last night, FINALLY going (already running late) to see my friends who all got together to sob about how sad we all are that I'm leaving (haha), and as I'm pulling onto Alden Rd, some jerk-off (ok, the roads were icy and I'm sure it could have happened to anyone) swerved and flew into the other lane. To avoid a complete nightmare, I slammed on my breaks, missing their car by about a foot (thank you God). However, in doing so, one of my boxes that apparently wasn't SO jammed tight in the mix, came FLYING from the back of my car and would have decapitated me, but I ducked just in time for it to pass right on by and slam into my gear shifter. Mind you, this is an automatic car, which was in DRIVE, moving. It got slammed up to PARK, and there you have it, the biggest mess I could have asked for. Realizing that something was wrong (stuck in some gear I didn't even want to imagine), and not really doing much other than coasting down the road, I parked in front of Joel's house (convenient, he's the one driving across the country with me). Calling Joel for moral support, he came running over only to hear me freak out about how unfair it was that this was happening, in the FREEZING rain, non the less. THANK you Joel, btw. I ended up leaving my car there, thanking God (again) that at least I'm in Bryn Athyn, where no one locks up and everyone leaves their keys in the ignition. I basically had my entire life in that car, and I just parked it and locked up and left it there, in dire need of a drink. "I'll handle it tomorrow".
Oh but I didn't HAVE to handle it tomorrow, because not an hour later, I ran home (in a borrowed car) to grab a bottle of Old Crow to cool my nerves, and found my dear Dad pulling up the driveway in my car. . . Gears in the right places and all. What a guy.
After playing drinking games that I've never played before (I never play any drinking games, to be fair) having laughs with the crew, and stopping in to see about a friend I needed to see about, I said farewell and headed home to snuggle with the pup. Overall, this was a perfect ending night to a very mixed up, interesting year.
I'm looking forward to 2008 bringing courage where courage is needed, love where love is deserved, and success where success has been earned. CALIFORNIAAAAAAAA, I'm coming home.
So I ended up spending the entire day yesterday (with the moral support of Amandoo and Carlatta) trying not to fall asleep (on top of my car) while packing my car like a jigsaw puzzle. So much moving boxes around, smooshing things into the tiniest of spaces available, realizing I probably don't need an entire box full of stuff I haven't touched or thought about since 2002, and letting go of my very loved brushed steel/glass desk. It was either the desk or the 12-string acoustic, so there really was no fight in that one (ohhh how many hours and hours you've served me well, sweet desk, I'm so sorry you are gettin' the boot this time).
Speaking of gettin' the boot, how do I explain to Whiskey (my bulldog)
that I'm not abandoning her FOREVER, and it's really the better thing for her to stay here with the family for a while when I first move. When my ex wasn't around anymore, she absolutely noticed that he'd gone MIA, and it took (believe it or not) a full month for her to stop waiting up ALL night for him to get home. Now I'm leaving her too?! I feel like the biggest jerk in the world. Although it's not permanent, and it really is for her, and it would be selfish to bring her out right away, because she will be put into a small apartment with no yard/family/dogs to roam free with, not to mention thrown into a kennel on a weekly basis since I'll be traveling out of town more often than not. OK. Enough dog speak, I realize I have fully crossed the line in some peoples books of "normal" behavior/attachment to an animal, but oh well (btw as I type this she is curled up on my lap, snoring a soothing lullaby to me).SO. Let's back-track a bit. I finally got a handle on wrapping up wedding season out here. What an amazing year it's been in the wedding world! I was blessed with meeting and working with so many amazing, inspiring couples, and I can't wait to get the new site/work up and running (yikes, that is a whole dif. world away it seems right now). After I got a grip on that, and was able to sort my life out a bit, I had a few free days to do some shoots that I've been wanting to do to balance out the wedding photography part of me. I was able to work with two amazing bands in the past couple of weeks: http://www.myspace.com/meowskers from Brooklyn - check them out, and if you are able to, go see a live show, there's more energy/character in those three guys than I've seen in a longggg while. It was such an easy shoot, despite waking up at 5am and driving to NY (the city I hate with a passion).
The second shoot was with the AMAZING band Illinois: http://www.myspace.com/illinois . Talk about pure genius. Those guys are not only just absolutely fantastic people, they are all individually creative and talented musicians. When you get that much talent meshed up together like that, whew it's quite the show. For all of you fans of the show Weeds out there, you'll really appreciate their tune nosebleed that was played for the 'brick dance' on one of the eppy's. Despite the completely unnecessary cold, and all of my equipment freezing up, the shoot went well and the shots are looking other-worldly. It's pure dedication when everyone is willing to shoot outside on location when the temp is averaging just above freezing. THANK YOU to the entire team + Amandoo for braving it out with me, it was SO worth it. The shots will be up soon-ish, and everyone (especially me) is super excited about how it all turned out.
So remember the car packed like a puzzle? The one that took me all day to pack? I was driving down the pike last night, FINALLY going (already running late) to see my friends who all got together to sob about how sad we all are that I'm leaving (haha), and as I'm pulling onto Alden Rd, some jerk-off (ok, the roads were icy and I'm sure it could have happened to anyone) swerved and flew into the other lane. To avoid a complete nightmare, I slammed on my breaks, missing their car by about a foot (thank you God). However, in doing so, one of my boxes that apparently wasn't SO jammed tight in the mix, came FLYING from the back of my car and would have decapitated me, but I ducked just in time for it to pass right on by and slam into my gear shifter. Mind you, this is an automatic car, which was in DRIVE, moving. It got slammed up to PARK, and there you have it, the biggest mess I could have asked for. Realizing that something was wrong (stuck in some gear I didn't even want to imagine), and not really doing much other than coasting down the road, I parked in front of Joel's house (convenient, he's the one driving across the country with me). Calling Joel for moral support, he came running over only to hear me freak out about how unfair it was that this was happening, in the FREEZING rain, non the less. THANK you Joel, btw. I ended up leaving my car there, thanking God (again) that at least I'm in Bryn Athyn, where no one locks up and everyone leaves their keys in the ignition. I basically had my entire life in that car, and I just parked it and locked up and left it there, in dire need of a drink. "I'll handle it tomorrow".
Oh but I didn't HAVE to handle it tomorrow, because not an hour later, I ran home (in a borrowed car) to grab a bottle of Old Crow to cool my nerves, and found my dear Dad pulling up the driveway in my car. . . Gears in the right places and all. What a guy.
After playing drinking games that I've never played before (I never play any drinking games, to be fair) having laughs with the crew, and stopping in to see about a friend I needed to see about, I said farewell and headed home to snuggle with the pup. Overall, this was a perfect ending night to a very mixed up, interesting year.
I'm looking forward to 2008 bringing courage where courage is needed, love where love is deserved, and success where success has been earned. CALIFORNIAAAAAAAA, I'm coming home.
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