BEFORE…
…and AFTER!
Lest a beautiful sunny day in Los Angeles go to waste, the opportune weather provided the perfect excuse for an al fresco brunch with my friends Mike Wilson and Donnetta.
The three of us met up, moving from one shady spot to another to avoid any direct sunlight that might try to shine on Donnetta’s new neck tattoo.
As it always happens when I visit The Abbey in West Hollywood, I’m inexplicably compelled to photograph the giant, red, glass…THING that hangs over the front bar. It’s just so fascinating to me.
I always wonder what would happen to it in the case of a really bad earthquake. Also, do they ever get a chance to dust it? I can’t imagine one of the sinewy, perfectly-primped bartenders trying to climb up on the bar in their tight jeans and teen-sized tank tops with a feather duster in one hand and a bottle of Windex in the other.
At the end of the meal, Michael reminded me that it was my belated birthday brunch. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Wonderfully reliable and always helpful, my neighbor Dan came to my aid in filming my video entry for “The Best Job in the World” although, bless his heart, I’m pretty sure he didn’t believe it made a lick of sense. I had the whole concept perfectly-planned in my head, but gave a fairly haphazard explanation for how exactly I wanted to put it all together. Needless to say, he was a good sport and managed to help me get all the footage I needed—and all without understanding the concept completely.
We took to the park just across the street from our apartments, behind an elementary school. It was pretty full on a late Sunday afternoon, with kids running around on the playground and pre-MLK Day parties taking place at various locales in the park. Luckily, we were able to find a quiet little corner tucked away from everyone else where we were able to record my goofiness.
And I’m about to admit something really embarrassing. I once came across some photos that Tipper Gore had taken—I can’t remember how, when or what the circumstances were—and one of them was this great self-portrait of her shadow stretching out in front of her. You could tell it had been taken just before dusk, when the sunlight is absolutely perfect and golden. So yes, this photoset is to you, former Second Lady and I apologize in advance for my explicit music collection on my iTunes.
While I’m in the mood for reminiscing about summer memories, I remembered this photoset I had taken when I took my mom and Ms. Vicky to the Getty Villa in Mailbu. I still have yet to go the Getty—the big one—but we did make our way here. It’s a beautiful home overlooking a beautiful view of Malibu, perched high on a hill, and was renovated to house the antiquities collection acquired by J. Paul Getty.
It was the perfect opportunity for me to play with my Canon Powershot, which I’m pretty sure was still relatively new at the time.
My two guests were lucky enough to have a celebrity sighting when we noticed Tyne Daly sitting and chatting with a friend. Looking over a brochure for the Villa, I noticed that she was one of a handful of Hollywood performers who regularly put on ancient Greek plays in the outdoor amphitheater. And, of course, I’m reminded that I had resolved to take in a performance, something I’ve yet to do.
It was a great trip. Entrance into the museum is free. You just have to pay for parking.
It’s located right off the Pacific Coast Highway and keep a close eye on the road when it’s coming up because if you sneeze, you’ll miss it, which you don’t want to do.
This unseasonable heat made me think about the summer, which lead to thoughts about my mom’s visit out here with Ms. Vicky and what a great time we had. One of our local adventures included a ride on the Red Line Metro to Union Station, a Los Angeles landmark, and a quick jaunt over to historic Olvera Street.
Even though I’m terribly anti-heat, it was a great day out. (Why can’t the weather always be PERFECT?) We walked through the cobblestone street, through the aisles populated with vendors pushing cheesy Mexican kitsch and took in an art exhibit of painted tortillas where we also witnessed a flamenco performance. It was really one of those moments in which I was reminded of how much cool stuff there is to do here. Too often, I get tunnel-vision of driving to work, home, the grocery store, lathering, rinsing and repeating.
As I’ve found with most of my favorite Showtime shows, a certain suspension of disbelief is required in order to really get into their new series The United States of Tara. Because I don’t have an in-depth understanding of multiple personality disorder (except that I know it’s extremely rare in real-life, but a really convenient way to end an episode of any given procedural crime drama), I can’t refute the way it’s portrayed onscreen.
Suffice to say, I have my doubts, but mostly because shady Diablo Cody is involved. Her influence is apparent any and every time anyone under the age of twenty opens their mouths, including Tara’s teenage alter-ego “T.”
However, because I have much love for the star of the series, who is none other than Australian actress Toni Collette, I am able to put my reservations aside and revel in her performance. Much like one of my other favorite actresses, Kate Winslet, Collette is clearly comfortable with her body enough to joke about having a “muffin top,” flaunt her real-life jiggles in both “mom briefs” and sparkly, teenage G-strings, an occurrence that I feel (or maybe just hope) is becoming less rare these days on television.
You can watch the first episode here on YouTube. In case you haven’t yet, you should change your YouTube settings on your computer to utilize the ability to always watch video on the highest quality available. It makes a huge difference, and you should do it, if you’ve got the speed and bandwidth for it.
The world i know
Is a world much too slow
If you can’t move fast enough child, better stay on the low child
Love that Esthero.
So rarely do I sit in the passenger seat, since I’m always volunteering to drive. I actually really like driving. But on this occasion, the opportunity presented itself for me to just sit back, relax and take photos while Keegan navigated Betsy on our drive to…I can’t remember where.
A postcard of New Zealand on his sun visor is a constant reminder of his upcoming trip to New Zealand this year (fingers crossed) and Rugby World Cup in 2011. I’ve yet to have the chance to go, but I’m so ready for a vacation to somewhere that green.
The BBQ pork chops Keegan brought home for dinner didn’t end up looking as appetizing as I hoped they would when I took that picture. But he tells me they were delicious.
On a 7/11 pit stop for something sweet and caffeinated, I discovered that apparently, our president elect comes in liquid form. Barack Obama water is available for purchase at convenient stores across the country! Or at least it is here in Los Angeles. Drink up, my fellow Americans!
On our day to trip to Raleigh, North Carolina over the holidays, Keegan and I saw a sign for JR Cigar in Selma. Keegan saw the billboard for the warehouse on the side of the highway and excitedly informed me that he’d often ordered cigars online from there and couldn’t believe we’d stumbled upon it pretty much by accident.
Only after seeing the place myself do I believe just how huge this place is. They even had wedding dresses. It was nuts.
We wandered through the store that had everything. There were books, plastic flowers, clothes, hunting supplies and of course, cigars. The cigar lounge was the biggest we’d ever seen and we almost fell over from the smell when we first walked inside. Sitting in two leather lounge chairs, two chubby bubbas puffed on their stogies while chatting, an image that highly amused Keegan.
Probably our second favorite feature of the store was their extensive collection of “Idiot’s Guide” books. Who knew dummies craved so much knowledge?
There’s someone lurking in the shadows. If you look really closely, you might be able to see her, quietly weeping.
Why is Britney driving this tranny-voiced broad around town in a Bebe commercial from last year?
Ha! Just kidding!
I WISH Brit-Brit were in the driver’s seat with no pants, scaring the Keds out of Mischa, because she’s driving with her feet.
So far today, I have received the following delightful presents:
-An eggplant, Tinkerbell pen, coffee and toasted cheese bagel from Groundworks from Bree.
-A hot chocolate and lemon bar from Starbucks courtesy of Robbie.
-This birthday card from Michael’s 8-year-old persona.
-Numerous Facebook and text message birthday wishes. And the text messages are doing double-duty by allowing me to respond with the following: Thanks! Love you 2! Who is this? I don’t have ur # in my new phone yet.
-Birthday kisses from Keegan, who also didn’t let me feel bad about sleeping in this morning and totally ditching our early morning run. That might actually be the greatest gift of all.
What do Nicolas Cage, Kenny Loggins, Katie Couric, Rachel McAdams, Yo-Yo Ma, Zora Neale Hurston, Louis III (the last King of Bavaria) and me all have in common?
We’re taking it to the danger zone? The dollar bill is talking to us? Our eyes watched God together? Ryan Gosling broke our hearts on and off-screen?
Nope. We were all born today some years ago, supposedly each sharing certain traits exhibited by Carpricorns the world over.
And since it’s my 29th birthday today, I feel compelled to reminisce on entering the last year of my twenties. It was a hell of an eventful decade. The fact that I was a late bloomer in certain aspects of my life meant that a lot of milestones often experienced by teenagers didn’t take place until my twenties. That said, here’s what happened, listed in no particular order:
I got drunk for the first time, graduated from college, lost my virginity, had my heart broken (broke one myself, I’m pretty sure…OK, maybe two), signed my first lease on an apartment, acquired all appliances that I own—the most recent one being the Crock pot that Keegan and I bought together, a first for us.
My father, grandmother and a high school friend passed away and for the first time in my life, I lost people who had been close to me. In the same year, both my sisters married and I was able to convince them to space the weddings long enough apart to accrue enough vacation time in between to keep from getting fired from my office job. Also, not to jinx it or be mushy (but I’m going to go ahead and do it anyways), I met my soulmate right at the midpoint. Not too shabby, right?
I started drinking coffee, bought my first car by myself, got a 401k, ran a marathon…and then another, had a root canal, drove across the country, became an aunt and saw the Pacific Ocean, all for the first time. Oddly enough, my mother and I both were introduced to the joys and challenges of living alone at around the same time on opposite ends of the country.
Growing up, my immediate family had always been close, but my relationships with my mother and sisters and my cousin Tanya matured into something I couldn’t have even imagined having when I was in my teens. The brothers-in-law introduced into my life have helped expand our family with new members, traditions and memories. Friends who will drop everything to help you move, grab a cup of coffee and/or spend hours with you on the phone have become a few of my all-time favorite things. I love all of you, and you know who you are.
It’s been a fun decade and you can go ahead and tell thirty I’m not scared. In fact, we should go get coffee sometime.
What might have been considered an inconvenient drive between Savannah, Georgia and Raeford, North Carolina was actually a well-needed, scenic road trip for Keegan and myself. He’s spent very little time in the south and I was more than happy to chauffeur him around in my mother’s SUV (thanks, Mommy).
A few pit stops along the way provided some opportunities for picture-taking, and we took a brief day trip to Raleigh, North Carolina, where we enjoyed some GIANT fresh oysters (love longer), sweet tea (be jittery longer) and hush puppies at the 42nd St. Oyster Bar in town. This is where we had a waiter who was the spitting image of my comedian friend Matt Baetz, only possessing a deeper voice bearing a strong southern accent.
Originally, the title of this post was going to be Traveling though the Carolinas. That is, until I was going to include a brief explanation that the term Carolinas refers to North and South Carolina and was double-checking my assertion on Wikipedia. And then I remembered this:
“Cackalacky” (also Cackalacka, Cackalack) is a slang or nickname form of Carolina, used in reference to North Carolina or South Carolina (e.g. North Cackalacky, South Cackalack), mostly in the Southern United States.[18]
Now that’s more like it.
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