The Mother

The mothership has arrived.  At 9:30pm last night we rendezvoused at LAX in the United baggage area.  By 10pm we were home, and by midnight, yours truly was asleep.  The mother says I look exhausted, I ask if we can tell people I’m doing drugs.  The mother does not find this amusing.  The mother says my face looks thin, I blame the drugs again.  It’s a foolproof excuse, I tell her.  If anything goes wrong this weekend at the wedding, we can just say I’m a drug-head.  Poor thing, it’s not my fault, I’m drug addled.  I can get away with anything.  The mother raises an eyebrow.  Making jokes about the unfortunate business of being addicted to drugs is not in good humor, she tells me.  Okay, I respond, let’s blame it on the aliens.  Nothing has been going my way since they abducted me in September.

The mother is a force to be reckoned with and I am happy she’s here.  The Energizer bunny has nothing on this dame, even the road runner looks half-cocked when compared to the speed with which the mother runs around.  I am hungry just thinking about it.  Note to self: why does the energy exerted by other make me hungry?  It’s not like I’m the one burning the calories.  Strange.

Two days left.  Two days.  Dos.  Deux.  Whatever two is in German.  That’s not a lot of time left…I’m not ready.  The mother looks over my shoulder.  “Ready or not, it’s coming.  And zwei is how you say two in German.”

U2 and the Black Eyed Peas Love Pasadena Hard

I love a good break-up concert.  What’s that, you ask?  It’s when you’ve gotten tickets ages ago to see a concert with your boyfriend…but you and the guy (jerk I mean) have split up in the interim.  The break-up concert is a wonderful night filled with good luck, happy coincidences, and tons of reminders that you’re better off without him.  It’s the universe’s way of reminding you what happy feels like.  That’s why you broke up with him.  And this is what you deserve.

Last night was no different.  My girlfriend called me two days ago with the sad news that she had break-up tickets.  Well turn that sad frown upside down because I was ready to be one hell of a date!  The music: Black Eyes Peas, U2.  The venue: the Rose Bowl, Pasadena.  The crowd: record breaking, over 100,000 people were estimated to show and the news was going crazy with traffic reports and crowd warnings.  But none of that applies for a those who are in our boat, the break-up boat.  We hit the road at 5pm, never saw a lick of traffic, parked our car in 10 seconds (for free), grabbed a margarita (no line), and were in our seats (center, center) just before the lights went down.

Black Eyes Peas: Fergie looks like she came out of a trailer park somewhere after one too many jobs doing something dirty.  But despite her distractingly trashy looks, that woman can sing and boy did she last night.  Her voice is strong and powerful.  As a whole, the music was awesome, one hit after another with a Slash appearance and a little Guns and Runs to end the set.  The guys rocked it too and the BEP’s got the packed Rose Bowl hopping.  What more can I say, it was really a great performance although to be fair, Fergie did drop a few words in the G&R song and I’m not quite sure what that thing was with Mexican flag was all about.

And then U2 came:  Bam.  Bono and the crew hits the stage and it’s like daddy’s home.  I will admit that the first song was weak (new song, not so great) after the might of the BEP’s, but that didn’t last long.  It’s U2, they knew what they were doing.  From song to song, the band reminded us of why they’re so great.   The thought that kept running through my mind was, ‘that’s their song too?’  I knew every song, I sang lyrics I didn’t know I knew, I smiled so much my face hurt, and all the while, the most amazing show was happening above and around the stage.  U2, performers that they are, knew what they were doing and built something spectacular.   Something fitting a live broadcast to seven continents.

It looked like giant octopus-crab from the bottom of the sea.  An octo-crab with a screen that kept stretching up and down to create a visual effect that blew the mind.  When it was tight the picture was as clear as watching television, when it was elongated (like you see here, taken from my phone) the picture became an abstract amalgamation of color and image.  And let’s not forget the thousands and thousands of people who looked like the milky way, twinkling and blinking and undulating in the dark.

The concert was broadcast live all over the world.  You can watch it on YouTube although I’m not sure if it does the energy of the place justice:  U2

And then the concert was over.  My girlfriend and I walked down and sat in the front row and waited for the encore, just like that because we were after all, still in our break-up boat.  We sat and we cheered and we were rewarded by an amazing mini-set from our new, down-low seats.  And then we left, and we went to our car, and we got on the freeway, and we were home.  No traffic, no crowds, no hassle.  Easy as pie.  I couldn’t believe it.

Last night was wonderful and if a certain ex-boyfriend is reading this…we are moving and we are grooving and the universe it saying thumbs up.  So that means you’re out, and out, and out.  Buh-bye.

A Thousand Words in One: Happy

I won’t tell you who these people are to protect the innocent.  (Harry, Colleen, and Dexter Begg.  21 Maple Drive.  Annapolis, MD 21401.)  Nor will I tell you how I know them (we’re related) or why I have pictures of them during their pregnancy (stalker alert).  What I will tell you is that I love these photographs!

Meet the Smith Family. (that’s not their real name) Collette (lie), Henry (lie), and their new pup, Dazzle (another lie).  They’re you’re All-American family.  Collette is the manager of a bank and runs a swap meet on Sundays in the cul-de-sac at the end of their street.  Henry is a graphic art designer who does some web design on the side.  Henry also like to paint, which he does every Sunday while Collette is at her swap meet.  Dazzle is their first dog.  (And none of this is true.)

They say a picture tells a thousand words.  I could do a good 200 on this couple whether I knew them or not.  They’re expecting a baby.  They’re happy and excited.  They care enough to freeze the moment forever.  They’re making a family.

Our lives are so full of news (carnage, despair, political bullying) that seeing something like this, something so nice and bright is rare.  This is happiness, joy, anticipation, and love.  Whether you know these people or not, a single frame has captured a little miracle.  And this couple, the Smiths (whomever they may be) make me smile.

Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock

Have you ever had something on the schedule that’s like headlights in the distance?  For some the headlights might be a grand adventure, a trip abroad, even a wedding perhaps.  For others the lights ahead are a serial killer coming down the road in a dirty, El Camino or a day to sign the papers or the last time you say goodbye.  The point is, it’s there, ahead, waiting, coming, creeping closer.  That’s where I am right now.  I cross off today in my calendar and count.  It used to be that I counted in months.  Then it switched it to weeks.  Then days.  And now the time frame of those headlights bathing me in light is so close I can see their outline.

I’m not sleeping anymore.  I lie in bed waiting for sleep and thinking of all the things I could get up and do.  I could get a massage, but who gives massages at 12:30am?  Right.  I don’t think I want that kind of massage.  Maybe I should drink some milk, but honestly, my nights are so filled with milk as it is, I moo’ed at a stoplight yesterday.  So I do what I always do, I get up and read.  I’ve read 19 books in the past two weeks.  I’m 1/3 of the way through my 20th.  I’ve read about expeditions up Mount Everest in the early 1900’s, Van Gough’s loss of his left ear, teenage vampires up to mischief, and ladies of the regency looking for love in naughty rakes.   I’ve read about pipelines in Iran, mobsters in Russia, banks in Sweden, and rickety old houses filled with witches.  I’m not choosy, just awake.

So if you ever fall down the rabbit hole and are staring at a pair of headlights in the distance, don’t fret.  I’ve got a list of places that you can travel to night after night.  Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock.

Earth, the Movie

On Friday night, Sam and I stayed in to watch Earth, a movie by Disney that I wanted to see in the theaters, but never did.  First of all, the movie is its cinematography and wow.  Beautiful.  Amazing.  Unbelievable.  The camera sneaks you in to the secret domain of multiple ecosystems.  I felt like a peeping Tom who hit the jackpot.  At the end, during the credits, they show you how the cinematographers captured some of the astonishing, incredible, and awesome shots.  I could’ve watched a whole movie about that.

The movie begins in the North Pole and takes us around the world in a year.  At times it’s funny, at times it’s awe-inspiring, but many times, it’s just sad.  The animals are suffering from the gluttony and selfishness of humans.  They are dying from starvation and dehydration.  Animals in the arctic can’t find food because the ice is melting too soon.  Animals in the dessert can’t fine water because the rain is coming too little too late.  What have we done?

There are times that Sam had to fast forward because it hurt so much to watch.  I shouted at the camera men to get out and to help, but they didn’t hear me.  I never cried, but I did make a pact with myself; I want to see these animals before they’re gone.  And they will be gone.  There’s just not enough left to support them without all of us severely changing our ways.  All of us.

Surprisingly, the birds of the rain forest were one of my favorite parts of the movie.  I don’t care for birds, probably from watching Alfred Hitchcock’s movie at a too young age, and am always slightly reluctant to watch them.  These birds however, are birds of a new feather.  I laughed the entire time.

I don’t what little old me can do to help (in my next life I’m going to work for National Geographic in the wild…or be a famous ballerina…or a spy…or maybe a hard-nosed journalist like Woodward or Bernstein), but I did do something small yesterday.  Very small , but it felt good.

I won’t go into all the boring details, but basically I told Starbucks that they’re hurting, not helping, and that all these individual packets that get thrown into the landfills (which is just another home taken away from an innocent animal) is no good.  Why not have large re-fillable honey pots, sugar spouts, and whatever else their customers need?  In fact, why not just add sugar in the back and stir it in for us?  That’s what Dunkin’ Donuts does.  Think about it, that’s 3 less sugar wrappers, 1 less wooden stirrer, and at least a napkin or two.  Times that by 1,000’s of people a day…they’ve made a difference. 

Anyway, that’s what I told the kid behind the counter making $6.25/hour, but I don’t know how much sway he has with the guys in Seattle.  But back to the movie, Earth: I recommend it with 1 trunk, 2 paws, and a flipper.  Watch it and maybe you’ll want to help them too.   Click here World Wildlife Fund for Wildlife Conservation and for as little as $25 (tax deductible) you can adopt an animal like this polar bear.  Don’t think, just do it.  It might just save his life.

Flu…Everybdy’s Doing It

Woke up this morning at about 5am with Kiki hacking and coughing like a New York cabbie.  Oh Kiki, I thought.  Not you too?

For the past month Los Angeles has been plagued by well, the plague.  Otherwise known as the flu, kids and adults everywhere are coughing, sneezing, wheezing, grumpy, sleepy, bashful, and doc.  (No poison apples necessary.)  The Los Angeles Times reports that “Outbreaks of flu are ‘way up’ in L.A. County” and that 91 people were hospitalized this past week for H1N1 (aka swine flu).  The article goes on to state that 95% of the people coming in to see their doctors have been positively diagnosed with H1N1, but that most patients recover without medicine (or even seeing a doctor for that matter) in about 2 weeks.  It’s only the elderly, the young, and the infirmed who are at risk.  As well, this newest outcrop of patients seems to coincide with September 1st and the resume of school.  No puzzle there.  Lots of germy kids, lots of germy places…it’s a veritable vegetable patch for the old swine flu.

Cough. Cough. Cough.  Kiki’s at it again.  Well I for one refuse.  I don’t care how popular it is, I won’t do it.  Just like the return of mullets, man bags, jeans that are so low your underwear hangs out, and those god-awful, straw cowboy boots, I’m saying no.  Kiki on the other hand, has always been one to follow the trends.  I blame it on being brought up in Los Angeles.

What a Day…for Project Runway

Here it is, Thursday and I can’t help myself.  It’s been a while now since I’ve spoken out about my deep, abiding love for the gangly Heidi Klum and her happy henchmen.  Last week was a huge disappointment for me; the judges sent home one of the most talented designers (Epperson) for a frock that, while terrible, did not deserve an elimination.  I don’t know what’s going on this year.  Nina Garcia is gone.  Michael Kors is off and on and when he’s on, he still seems off.  And then there’s the blond, anorexic chic from Elle (who I think has replaced Nina Garcia at Elle since Nina got the axe) and the random rotating person who fills in every week as the ‘guest’ judge.  But the crew doesn’t work, and as a result, they’re making crap decisions.

Following Project Runway this year, is a new show called ‘Models of the Runway.’  Yes.  I’m watching that too.  I can’t help it; they’re so gosh-darn pretty.  Each one has like 4 feet of leg, another foot of flat abdomen, and then a final foot of face (and some even have those pointy, preying mantis arms).  My favorite is the woman from Israel.  Matar Cohen is her name and looking gorgeous is her game.  You can’t see her very well in this photo, but that’s her on the right.   

So for those of you who feel like watching a little fashion, a lot of leg, and some weird judges who are getting too big for their britches…Project Runway and Models of the Runway.  And by the by, for those of you live in LA, check out the billboard of Heidi Klum downtown on 9th street.  She’s got some really weird hair thing going on.  It’s looks like a pigeon landed on her head, but I think it’s just a bun she styled on the top of her head like a potato-antennae.  Heidi?  What were thinking?  Before you make fun, take a look at yourself.  That bun is crazy.

The Rain

It’s raining for the second day in row here in Los Angeles.  I know, it’s crazy.  I can’t even recall the last time it rained…perhaps last January or February?  Hank has never experienced rain before and finds it fascinating.  He watches the water as it drops and falls and splatters on the ground with a snap-plop-splash.  I’ve never seen him so relaxed.  It’s as if the rain has put him under a trance.

Last night I went to a party and came out at midnight to see a group of young people huddling under a canopy.  They were waiting to get inside the bar next door and there were dozens of them.  The canopy was only 5×5 at most and seeing them all squished in like that reminded me of farm animals in a pen.  But fashionably dressed of course.  As the rain came down and the young women in their high heels squealed, I marveled at how bad Angelenos are in inclement weather.

Driving in the rain out here is a joke.  As far as the people of Los Angeles are concerned, rain is as cataclysmic as any other natural disaster.  We only know one weather; sunny.  So what are we supposed to do when the sun goes away?  Women cancel their appointments.  Students miss school.  Men refuse to take the dogs out.  Life as Los Angeles knows it comes to a screeching halt.  It’s raining, dammit!!!

I happen to like it and use the rain as an excuse to stay home and relax.  No gym.  No errands.  No nothing.  You can catch me on a rainy day in one of two places; home or at the library.

Word of the Day

I don’t usually pull out the word of the day until the end of the week, but with Hank’s little adventure, work, and the big ‘W’…I’m pooped.  I even look like a train wreck.  One of my clients told me to ‘go home and get some rest’ yesterday with a hesitant pat on my back.  I wasn’t sure if the hesitation came from fear of how bad I looked (like a I might be contagious) or pity for how bad I looked (like I might break), but I wasn’t offended.  Once a woman at the gym told me how excited she was for me that I was losing all the baby weight.  Even then I wasn’t offended and I don’t have a baby.  I saw it as a compliment; she could tell that I had been lifting weights and toning up.  Glass half full.

So in honor of being tired, looking tired, and still going full steam ahead, I give you triskaidekaphobia.  I thought it only fitting.

triskaidekaphobia \tris-ky-dek-uh-FOH-bee-uh\, noun:

Fear or a phobia concerning the number 13.

When Molly caught sight of Sara she felt a visceral reaction; Sara’s appearance was much more frightening than the number thirteen.  Why had Molly been plagued by a stupid number for so many years when an ever scarier being had been in front of her all this time?  And like that, Molly’s triskaidekaphobia was gone, only to be replaced by Exaustalunaphobia.

Exaustalunaphobia \ex-ahw-stah-FOE-bee-uh\, noun.

Fear or phobia concerning tired people who look more crazy than they did the day before.

The Fuzz and the Fuss

Last night on the way home from a friend’s birthday in downtown Los Angeles, Sam and I got pulled over by the Fuzz.  We’d only traveled a few blocks from our friend’s loft when the red and blue lights started flashing behind us.  Sam immediately knew what was wrong.  “I forgot to turn on my lights.”  He said sheepishly to the cop.  I guess it’s a common mistake with the Prius because the cops detained us for little less than 5 minutes before sending us off with well wishes for safer driving.  To be honest, it’s nearly impossible to tell the difference (inside the car at least) of whether the lights or on or not.  Note to Prius…better work on that.

Then we got home to the fuss; Hank had swallowed a foreign object.  This exciting revelation was followed by a night of vomitosous and an early morning phone call to the vet.  Looks like Hanky Panky might be getting his first x-ray.  And so the week begins.  Fuzz or Fuss, I’m already exhausted.