Aug 20, 2007

New Cyst, Sour Mood, and Hot Fudge

I definitely know for sure I have another cyst, but I highly doubt anyone (aside from Jeremy) would want details on how... Regardless, I am totally bummed. I'm tired of being in pain. I'm tired of cramps. I'm tired of blood. I'm just sick and tired of all that.

Puts me in such a sour mood... I really dislike going out in public when I feel like this but I had errands to do today, so I had no choice.

I was going to go to Target but I just couldn't deal, so after circling around in a confused daze for 30 minutes I finally just decided to go to Larchmont since it's much smaller and way more private... It's like having your own speciall little secret neighborhood. I love it. (Plus I run into people I know, which while it can be annoying at times, is a pleasant event when it's someone cool like my favorite barista -- you know who you are even tho you're not on myspace, lol)... And I feel better having gotten most of my errands done (except for a paint brush, still need one big one)... I did treat myself with some Baskin Robins. Yum.

But I'm still in pain. It sucks to have your mind be racing and wanting to do all this stuff but your body can't. I'm only partially done repainting the kitchen walls, I seriously need to like steam clean the heck out of the kitchen... Looks like a Zombie's head exploded in the microwave, but I'm just so not feeling well I can hardly move...

When you can feel, I mean really feel your ovary, well, that in and of itself is friggin weird, never mind the additional pain.

Yet I have no painkillers... Well, no prescriptions, at least. I'm just so over pills. It's like a few years ago I was deep in a mountain of pills per day and now I don't even want to take a multi because I'd like to try to get everything my body needs from food and beverage, coz, like, that's how it's supposed to work, y'know? But, well, doesn't always...

What is the nutrional value of hot fudge anyway?

Oh, btw, I was thinking of killing all my other MySpace pages (except for the Platypus, Saint Asylum, & U2MP3s)... I just don't have the time anymore... So, kiss Floppy goodbye!

Aug 19, 2007

Picture This, Sharing Secret Worlds, and it is Not a Gag (I really am a Klutz)

First off, picture this…

It is hot out.
The pool beckons…
Glistening clear chlorinated water reflects the sun's rays…
One wall is heavy with green vines, hot pink flowers, and purple orchids.
Palm trees jut up into the clear blue sky. No cloud in sight.
You float. Ears underwater. No sounds but your heart beating and your breath.
The world ceases to exist in this tiny slice of paradise.
As much as I complain about my apartment, I love my pool.

I also love my secret world…
The advantage to being totally alone for several weeks is being able to create your very own secret world in your apartment.
Last night it was a spaceship.
Captain Zoe (my cat, that is her name, Firefly connections are a mere coincidence) had to steer the ship clear from the inbound Comet (another one of my cats, nearly 30 pounds of white fur and muscle, he's like a dog).
This is what I do in my secret world. Make videos of my cats doing stuff.
Captain Zoe, take us home!
That's what Jeremy would yell out right now if he were here.
We share our secret worlds and they are mostly in accord.
I love being able to share my secret world with someone.
Otherwise, I'm some kind of loner weirdo crazy cat lady and who wants that?

Oh! Are you ready for this? I know I joke a lot in my blog (and on NF's page) about being this uber klutz and I so want you to know just how real that is…

I had a meeting today, so I drove the Kia I'm renting up to NoHo and back.
Pulling into my garage, I totally scraped the damn car alongside the support beam next to my spot.
How stupid is that? Why do I do this shit? I mean, seriously, I am not retarded and am pretty darn smart and skilled in many things, but y'know, if I have to pull one cup out of the dispenser, 15 will come flying out instead. If I have to routinely park in my garage, the damn car has to get a huge ass scrape on it (not to mention paint, ugh!) and just has to be a rental. Like, of course.

Welcome to my life as a major klutz.

"The Secret" might suggest I make my own klutziness by thinking about being a klutz and then manifesting them but you know what? I can safely say I wasn't even remotely pondering the inner workings of klutziness at all, in fact I wasn't much thinking about anything when I ploughed the car into the pole, which is probably precisely why it happened in the first place.

I zone out in public a lot. I mean, like A LOT. I must appear to be the biggest space cadet ditz on the planet. In fact, I've had people read some of my work and then say stuff like, "I had no idea it'd be so good! I mean, wait, I didn't mean that, I mean, you seem like kind of flakey…" And I'll be all, "Yeah, no problem. I am flakey. Wicked flakey! Whatever."

But so what? As long as I didn't hit anyone and it's not like I was driving under the influence. I don't do that. I call a cab. Why? Because I'm not as stupid as the infamous bubble headed bleach blondes in Hollywood.

Speaking of being under the influence, I gotta go, um, see about something, I mean, wait, there's a TV show I wanna watch, and, um, look, my grandmother's on fire…

Actually, I have to finish rewriting some of my story. I can't say specifics, but I learned some interesting lessons today and I feel good!

Like, James Brown good.

Think I'm gonna dance now.

Aug 18, 2007

Just some jewelry I made...

I make jewelry to soothe my soul so I thought I'd share some of that secret world with MySpace via a photos...


Aug 13, 2007

Feel like I’m Lost on a Distant Planet... **updated**

Feel like I'm Lost on a Distant Planet... I am so out of touch it's ridiculous. I'm missing friends' birthdays, can't keep up with comments or mail, never mind blogs!

And that's just MySpace.

I've been cooped up working on a project... I have no clue what's going on in the news, the world, family, friends, pop culture...

Been getting cabin fever so I've made attempts at being social but it's like you can dress her up but you can't take her out....

Went to Hugo's in West Hollywood with a friend. Wicked good food, man. Ignore the B! I had an avocado-hummus wrap that was out of this world! For starters we had spring rolls that were so fresh they tasted like someone picked the veggies in the back yard just prior to serving. Yum!

I dropped my napkin, my knife, and later my whole meal (but it was a left over by then and I was home, thank god).

Before that I went to this Jamaican place (Cha Chas) with another friend, but being a vegetarian there wasn't much there for me to eat... Do they jerk everything? Yuck. But the atmosphere was awesome. All these virgin Mary's everywhere... No zombie jesus', tho.

I don't think I dropped anything there, but I felt like a dork anyway.

It's like, ok, I don't really know how to describe this, but while I'm working on something I feel like I'm completely disconnected with the world... Like that Visa commercial where everyone is moving in perfect unison then this guy pays with cash and everyone screeches to a halt. I'm like that guy whenever I leave my apartment.

So because my head's in this other space conjuring up scenarios and researching stuff I'm just completely marching to my own drum... At least I'm in LA where you can be a complete flake and temporarily forget how to drive a car when you're pulling out of the crowded post office lot... (Except for this one guy who was waiting in his car who kept telling me to cut my wheel more... I wanted to scream, maybe if you weren't watching me I could drive like a normal person!)

Ok, well, enough goofing off... I just wanted to let y'all know that I'm not purposefully blowing anyone off, I'm just crazy busy.

Edit: Wait! There's more!

So, after I wrote this I went to 7-11 for an emergency Slushee and dropped 4 or 5 cups on the floor.

Then I went to throw out my garbage, but I couldn't lift the bag up so this guy walking by tried to help me but it tore so a waterfall of cat litter fell on us.

I was mortified. I practically ran back in, took a shower with Purell, and fell over laughing in the middle of my living room.

Poor guy... was just trying to help someone out, gets a face full o' litter.

HAHAHA!!! Ok... I'm supposed to be done with The Project today but late late late last night I got this inspiring idea so now I'm changing it AGAIN. Oi! But first... I must watch Season 1 of Big Love. I'm addicted.

Peace.

PS: Avocado Grill, Larchmont, best burritos ever. You, go now! Eat burritos!

Aug 5, 2007

Interesting Article on a Family Friend

Editor's Notes: How do we say farewell?
July 31, 2007 | Old Colony Memorial
By Scott C. Smith, CNC Newspapers

Call it a generation. That's about what 25 years is. And that's about how long Richmond Talbot wrote for the Old Colony Memorial. Yes, wrote.
There will be a void in this week's Weekend edition of the paper. Richmond and Annette Talbot have decided to hang up their pens, so to speak. Their last columns ran last week. This week in my column I want to thank them. Saying farewell to friends is hard to do.
Annette's wit, recipes and cooking commentary graced our pages for the past few years in her popular Plymouth cooks column. She always wrote with a sprightly pen, and you could feel a pixy-ness in her voice. I read every word of every column - not because I was her editor; I wasn't until last fall. But because I enjoyed her writing and felt comfort in what she had to say. Thanks, Annette, for bringing your cheerfulness and unending stories into my life.
Richmond went beyond his Good eating column for the past few years, writing Here and there, an insightful look around town and at the world. But it's his food writing that we most remember him for, and it's the man behind the long-running column that I salute here.
What does one say about a great guy with a terrific gift for words? That he is a good writer and photographer is accurate but misses the mark. That he entertained us week in and week out is perhaps more appropriate. I think he'd like to hear that said of him. I hope he puts out a book of his columns. It would sell well.
Instead of my going on about Richmond, I think I'll simply let Richmond speak for himself. You can come up with quotable lines from any of his columns. Here's some from columns he wrote during my tenure with the paper. I picked columns at random from 2000 on and pulled a winner from each one. Here's just a few, as space allows.
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"I think of sardines as a guy thing. Do women eat them? My wife and daughters don't, so a can of sardines is, for me, a solitary pleasure. It's something to open up when I'm hungry, and there's nothing in the refrigerator but low-fat yogurt."
"On the Fourth of July it's better to eat potato salad and believe the past was glorious. The rules of ethics have changed over the years, and we've never been a nation of saints by any standard, but we weren't a nation of blackguards either. There's plenty to celebrate and the past got us where we are."
"The ocean of memory and the sea of forgetfulness are one. Facts I long for litter the bottom like the bones of drowned sailors, never to be seen again. It seems like my memory is bad. Was it ever good? I don't remember."
"If I had foreign guests - say a couple of French gourmets - I wouldn't want them to go home thinking America is the culinary wasteland they'd been led to believe it is. I sometimes fantasize about this. I'd get my wife, Annette to make chowder and bake them a pie. I'd put in a pot of baked beans. I'd get a good steak and cook it on the outdoor grill. I'd steam a lobster in seawater and get them some fried clams."
"According to the French, only Americans are barbarous enough to add lettuce to a bacon and tomato sandwich, so I ate mine without greenery this year."
"Karl Jung believed human psychology is full of archetypes - images that are common to humans as a species and dominate our behavior, our mythology and our dreams. If it's true, I bet one of them is the combined flavor of meat and smoke, which must go back to the domestication of fire."
"No one when he comes to die says, 'I wish I'd spent more time on business.' Giving full attention to the bite of the mustard, the crunch of the lettuce, and the juiciness of the beef is my idea of doing two or three things at once. We need the food and the time to enjoy it. We should insist on it. We should eat with people we like and as often as we can with people we love."
"I fry my bacon, watching it closely. Bacon remains raw-looking in the pan and then burns when you turn your back to get a paper towel to drain it on."
"August makes me nervous because there are so many wonderful foods it will soon be too late to eat. I have to taste sweet blackberries warmed by the sun. I have to check out the blueberries below the power lines, and if the wild ones aren't enough, I'll pay to pick the cultivated ones. I almost never get my fill of fresh corn.
The arc of the sun is getting shorter. Every night I watch it dip below the horizon further and further south. Soon I'll be back in front of the television and they'll be showing me happy people splashing on Florida beaches. Right now we have our own beaches. Pack the cooler and go."
"An excellent cocktail is an omen of things to come. Annette had a jasmine, which was made of gin, Campari, lemon juice, and Cointreau. I had something they call a phantasm, made with lemongrass infused vodka, lime juice, and falernum.
"I asked the bartender whether there's a commercial lemongrass vodka or they infuse their own. He said it's homemade, but easy. You just cut up some lemongrass and leave it to soak a few days until the vodka gets cloudy. I plan to experiment. I picture the drink as part of my summer entertainment. 'Would you care for a phantasm?' I'll say."
"Among us amateurs, one-upmanship may turn conviviality into egoism. Who has the finer olive oil, the more expertly roasted coffee, or the fresher fruit? Along with an exaltation of the rare and exotic may come a disdain for the more common pleasures of life, although serious eaters have secret vices. Among mine are Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and McDonald's sausage biscuits."
"When it comes to home repair, I'm a thumb-banger. I come from a long line of them. The only ancestors I know of who weren't thumb-bangers were like my grandfather Harry R. Talbot, who I believe never picked up a hammer in his life."
"We ought to admire single mothers who raise their families in a difficult world. We should offer a pat on the back to divorced fathers who pay their share and spend quality time with their kids. But the best thing you can do for your children is keep on loving their other parent. We should give such couples a great big round of applause."
Maybe Richmond should publish a calendar, the one-day-at-a-time kind with memorable quotes from his writings. The kind where we tear off each day and keep the good ones. We'd have quite a pile after a while.
Thanks, Richmond. Safe voyage.


Aug 1, 2007

"Los Angeles" a random poem

I can see so clearly now
So clear, it stings my eyes
I wonder who I was
Who was I meant to be
For you
To you
Who am I to you
Who pierced my heart
With your piercing eyes
Who are you
Who are you, my muse
Whisper to me
Call my name
I want to hear you
Remember you
Remember why
Why I came here in the first place
Lost lonely landscapes of television skies
Palm trees line concrete streets
With glistening pools of chlorine
7th and Main the downtown bus
Waiting for you and me to board
Where are we going to
Where are we going now
I can see serenity here
So peaceful it closes my eyes
To Complacency
To Complaints
I wonder who I am
Who am I meant to be
In this place
In this space
I fly
To you
Fly away with you, you
Who pierced my heart
With your piercing blue eyes
Where are you
Where are you, my muse
Whisper to me
Call my name
I want to hear you
Remember you
Remember why I came
here, Los Angeles of the lost
Lost lonely soundscapes of television skies
Palm tree lined streets at night
With shimmering pools of chlorine
On the corner, 7th and Main the downtown bus
Waiting for you and me to board
Let's get on board, Los Angeles
Let's do something big and huge
Let's do something, Los Angeles
Let's do something, Hollywood
Don't you wish that we would
Don't you wish that I could
Complacency, remember me
Whisper to me
Call my name
I need to hear you
My muse, Los Angeles
With your long golden hair
Your fashion magazine
And all your cares wrapped up in eye cream
Call to me
Whisper my name
Hear me call to you
When I need you to wake up, Los Angeles
Wake up
Under shady trees
A hot summer breeze
Shake up
Your day to day
Wake up from your daze
Remember who you are
Why you came here
Remember what you set out to be
Don't let life erase your life
Live, breathe, dream,  believe
Live, breathe, dream big
Live, breathe, dream, believe
Live, breathe, dream big, Los Angeles
Los Angeles, I'm waiting
For you
But I know you're not waiting for me
Wake up!