Posts Tagged 'damn fine day'

Blogger’s Block.

I want to post on my blog.  I really do.  So much so that in the last two weeks I have started countless posts on topics including::

* The time I went to the eye doctor [last Friday] and Mr. T of A-Team fame was there and was totally loud and insane and hilarious.

*
My new fake crush on a guy I sometimes hang out with which is based solely on the fact that I don’t have a real crush on anyone right now which feels odd and boring.

* My disappointment in certain lady friends of mine who are not giving to a very charitable cause I am organizing on the basis of the economy.  [I mean, yeah, the economy sucks, but I don’t see how 5 series BMW driving yoga-hoppers can’t afford a $20 dollar contribution to help a HOMELESS FAMILY.]

*
How realizing how much my father has aged completely terrifies me.

*
My 80’s prom party where I totally rocked the most hideously glorious outfit I have rocked ever since 1994.  And the late night Denny’s mayhem that ensued after wards.

*
My growing collection of Shepard Fairey art, which I am realizing I have no idea how to properly store them.

*
My ability to FINALLY, after approximately one year of bitching about it, lose five pounds.  I find of cheated [signed up for a meal delivery service], but still.  Good for me.

*
How I ate a completely forbidden piece of chocolate immediately after I congratulated myself for losing weight in the point above.

* How I gave a presentation to my entire law firm with headings taken from hip-hip songs and that everyone loved because it is funny when a nerdy white-bread lawyer quotes hip-hop songs in presenting on the material adverse effect clause.  By everyone, I mostly mean my boss, who said it was the best presentation yet, which it totally wasn’t.

But once I write a sentence or two, I hit a wall.  And then I give up.  In fact, it is happening again right now.

Hello, whale.

1:: On Sunday, I woke up early.

2:: I boarded a boat with my oldest [in terms of friendship length] and possibly craziest friend [for real, crazy.  but in an awesome way], plus several of her friends.

3:: And a lot of alcohol.

4::
I was feeling quite nervous because there was a boy on the boat I had previously dated [I use dated very loosely here] – and being bikini clad on a boat with booze and a guy that I used to like [who is kind of an irresistible jerk] is the kind of situation that is trouble for me.

5:: I was also feeling generally distressed because I still need to figure out where the hell I am going to live.

6:: And work has been brutal.

7:: And my car’s stupid “check engine” light keeps staring me down.

7.5:: And the devil Time Warner is accusing me of not returning a cable box that I so totally returned.

8::And I shouldn’t have eaten that cookie.

9:: And did I look ok in my bikini?

10:: Then a giant blue whale [seemingly bigger than our boat, which was 52 feet!] came out of nowhere and leaped up out of the water within what seemed like [but was not] arms distance.*

11:: I think it was trying to tell me to stop thinking so hard and worrying so much about all the nonsense and just enjoy the day and my pretty damn sweet life.

12:: The message was received.

13:: I ended up having am amazing day.

14:: While resisting the troublesome boy.

15:: And now have an awesome tan to show for it.

All in all, a top ten kind of day.

* Seeing the whale is maybe one of the cooler nature type things I have seen
in my life.  it was fucking HUGE!

My oddly productive week.

Maybe it is because I turned old – or maybe because I am living among the olds – but all of a sudden, I am a person that gets things done.

Usually, I make an exhaustive list of all the things I hope to get done in a week.  And then I promptly misplace the list, until I happen upon it months later, still having all the same things left to do.

On Monday, I followed the usual protocol and created the list.  Only this time, I didn’t lose the list.  Quite the contrary.  By Tuesday, I had actually gotten something on the list completed.  And then another!  And another!  And the satisfaction of getting to cross things off the list was so great that it made me want to add MORE things to the list.

Here I am on Friday, with only one item left:: Figure out life plan (aka where to live plan)

Ok, sure, I left the hardest one for last, but still.  This is serious progress people.  This month marks the first time ever I paid a utility bill on time!

AND, I even maybe have phase 1 of a life plan in motion.  I am going to look at several lofts in Downtown tomorrow.  I am thinking of maybe possibly kinda sorta hopefully buying one!  The Great Silverlake Housing Hunt is turning into an abysmal failure so I figured wtf, may as well take the leap and find a place of my own.  Maybe.  I am very optomistic about one loft development in particular, which has a Primo Cafe AND an Urth Cafe.  It’s is like a thin slice of WeHo on the East Side.

The Moth is my new Project Runway.

I went to Tangier tonight to attend my first LA Moth Storyslam. And let me tell you, it totally rocked. I was expecting 1 or 2 great stories…and got 9 [the one that sucked had this strange homophobic undercurrent that freaked me out. I mean what the fuck person who moved from Texas to Hollywood. This is LA, expect to meet some gay people.]

If you live in Los Angeles or New York, you must attend one of The Moth’s events. And if you live anywhere else, you must move to Los Angeles or New York at once! No, seriously. Move. Now. Go. I am sure my parents can host you for a while if you can’t find a place to live.

For you LA folk::

Tuesday October 7, 2008 at

Tangier
2138 Hillhurst Avenue at Los Feliz Boulevard
Los Angeles, CA

7:00pm Doors open
7:30pm Stories start on stage

$6 at the door

Due to circumstance, I am prohibited about writing about my dating life. Actually, not so much “prohibited” as trying my bestest to abstain. As a result, I was finding it really difficult to write posts to inhabit my blog. Turns out there isn’t much to my life except lists and boys [and drinking].

Then, someone said “Predator.” [Bear with me people, this is a desperation post]

The mention of the movie title instantly took me back to my New York Era [aka – the Good Old Days, the Always Broke Days, the Really Badly Behaved Days, and Damn My Apartment Is Small And Really Expansive Days], where I spent the vast majority of my days and nights with a pack of five guys [one of them being my then boyfriend] with the occasional rif/raff random unsavory character mixed in. We spent about 5% our time being students [typically, the week or two before finals], 20% sleeping, and the rest [don’t ask me what “the rest” equals, I forgot math after high school] engaging in some combination of drinking/eating [tacos usually]/watching tv/general time wasting. Mostly drinking and wasting time. Or are those the same thing? Gosh, I was so good at wasting time back then.

On one particular night we all decided [one person decided, the rest of us were sheep] to gather at home base for what seemed at the time the to be the Worst. Plan. Ever. We were supposed to eat, drink, hang out [ok so far]…and watch the critically acclaimed movie Predator 2 [this is where the plan was lost me]. About three minutes into the movie, someone thought we ought to kick it up a notch by making bets on what point in the movie Gary Bussy was going to die*. There was an over/under, vegas style, and each person had to pick a specific time. You would think a bet of this nature would require some sort of high stake to be exciting, but in our case, the sheer glory of being right was always enough.

Immediatly after the bets were memorialized on the white board [why was a white board on hand? I have no idea] the night was transformd from a regular drinking night in a teeny tiny New York City apartment [which, by the way, had mice] into complete and utter magic. The highlight was when Garry Bussy died [or seemed to anyhow] and then came back to LIFE! AND THEN DIED AGAIN!!! Seriously, an outside observer would think our fathers had just won the world series or the presidency or something. It was sheer pandemonium. So much drama. So much fun!

A friend of mine was in town visiting me that weekend and was on hand to witness the glory. I will never forget her glancing over to me at one point with the look that said “So, this hooting and hollering, couch-jumping, Predator 2 watching jackass is your boyfriend? And these are the future high powered lawyers of America?”

Priceless.

* Come to think of it, I don’t remember if it was Gary or some other actor.

Beautiful Day

I complained a lot going into the weekend because of the doom rain forecast, but today turned out to be lovely. I started the morning off with a hike at Runyon, and enjoyed it more today than I have ever before. The weather was cool and clear, the mountain [okay fine, hill] was totally deserted [passed probably 10 people along the way] and I was super motivated. I even ran half the way, and not just on the downhill either!!!

Lovely way to start the long weekend. Looking forward to more of the same.

Tomorrow, I am going to see Indiana Jooones! Yes, I know it is supposed to suck. But I don’t care. Indy gives me the happy fuzzy fizzy feeling inside. And Shia ain’t so bad either. 😉

Self Imposed Exile/ Girls are dumb.

Part I – Self Imposed Exile::

For the past several months, I have been going a little overboard in my life. I am not saying it hasn’t been fun [it has], but I felt like I was getting a little out of control. In order to get back on track, I have been wanting a weekend all to myself, free of vice, technology, and outside influences. Originally my plan had been to go to Palm Springs and just hang out, all by my lonesome. But when my roommate announced she was leaving for a week, I decided that I would make my house my own personal sanctuary.

So basically, for the last two days I fell off the face of the earth, I worked on my tan, I wrote a bunch, I read even more, I felt wonderful and happy and sad and lonely and wonderful again. I relearned how to spend time with myself. I organized my closet. I even had my own little Project Runway experience when I tried [and failed] to sew a tunic for myself. I dealt [and continue to deal with ] a gas leak.

At the end of it all, I learned no great lessons. I didn’t find myself, discover the meaning of life, or write the first few pages of the next great American novel. I am still bummed as hell that it is Sunday, thereby making tomorrow a workday. But I feel grounded and strong. And over all, I am pretty gosh darn happy.

Part II – Girls are dumb [sometimes]::

So I have this friend I will call Dee. Dee and I were very good friends in High School, are slightly less friendly these days, but still quite close. We speak irregularly but have always managed to somehow keep a genuine connection between us. Or at least I think so, anyhow.

Dee, despite being brilliant in nearly every facet of her life, has atrocious taste in men. Worse than me even. If there is a useless man within 10 miles of Dee, she will sniff him out and make him the love of her life until the whole farce of a relationship blows up in her face. It is rather painful to watch, but I always just figured that one day she would realize the absurdity of her ways and find a man that didn’t totally suck.

I may be wrong. Dee’s latest conquest, Moldy, is her worst yet. So of course, true to form, Dee has declared him the love of her life. Moldy is a pathological liar, a womanizer, and pretty much a total unreliable asshole. I know all of this because he is a pseudo friend of mine. Pseudo in that I hang with him on occasion, can have a beer and a laugh with him, but don’t trust even a teensy little bit.

Recently, I went out with a Mutual Friend of myself and Moldy and had a conversation that went as such::

Me:: Hey, how is Moldy? I have not seen the kid for a while.

Mutual Friend:: He is really good, he has been really busy dating lots of chicks.

Me:: Say whhhha? Did he and Dee break up??

Mutual Friend:: Oh shit, I forgot you are friends with Dee. Please, please, please don’t say anything.

Me:: Of course not. It is none of my business.

BUT, the problem is this. I don’t actually believe that it is none of my business. Because after all, Dee is my friend. If I were Dee, and I loved a man who was cheating on me and my friends knew, I would damn well expect them to tell me about it.

So that is what I did in a roundabout way. I didn’t want to get Mutual Friend in hot water, so I made up a cockamamie story about how I thought that maybe I may have possibly maybe seen Moldy with another gal. My thought was that telling Dee her boyfriend might be cheating 1) would cause her to reexamine the relationship, and 2) would force her to confront Moldy and he’d have to come clean, since he is in fact cheating.

Turns out, neither of the results I had anticipated came to pass. Dee refused to talk to Moldy because according to her, he is under a lot of pressure and she does not want to add to it. And further, Moldy would NEVER cheat. They are in love. I am mistaken. And that is that.

On one hand, I understand where Dee is coming from. She is desperate for a relationship and to feel deeply connected to someone. She does not want to see how flawed her chosen partner is, because she is desperate, and she can pretend, at least for now, he is what she wants.

On the other hand, I want to say to her – For the love of God lady, wake the hell up. You are dating a total asshole. Just because you don’t want to admit it or see it, does not make it any less true. And when a friend of your’s who loves you tells you something, perk up your ears, open your eyes, and stop being so stupidly naive.

But of course, I can’t say that to Dee. So I am saying it to you instead.