It's time I wrote something personal.

Week-end recap:

Let's see. I honestly can't remember anything exciting happening before Wednesday night. I'm sure stuff happened, but it all seems to run together.

Random items of interest (or not):

My mom's white cell count was low and so she missed a week of chemo. I guess this puts her a week off schedule, and while I really want her to get her treatment, I'm glad she got a little vacation from it. She told me that her sense of taste had started coming back a little. Previously things were tasting very metallic to her, which is just one fun side-effect of chemotherapy.

Patrick's band, Suffering Luna (see link on the right) had their first gig with him on drums on Wednesday at the Air Conditioned (Supper Club) in Venice. It was Metal Alliance night and there were about five bands that went on before they did (and they all ran late, so instead of playing at 10:45 as planned, I think SL went on at 11:20 or something). The Air Conditioned is a pretty cool place. They allow people in who are under 21 but then they all get kicked out at 10:30, which was a bummer for us because it meant most of the audience left all at once. Those kids were dressed exactly like the metal kids I remember from high school (skinny jeans, pristine white sneakers, flannel, Slayer and Anthrax t-shirts, funky hair). One kid had a bullet belt. The other bands were mostly indistinguishable (note: is that a real word? It doesn't look right) from one another, except for the band that preceded Suffering Luna, who were called "Hexen." They ended every song with a cry of "We Are Hexen!"

I have an ear infection.

I got my car fixed but it turns out that I also need to replace some very expensive gaskets.

Our kitty Puma has a mouthful of very yucky teeth. He's on antibiotics and has an appointment with the doctor for next Thursday. He's a lot skinnier now than he is in the photo. He's such a good boy.

I had some work done on my flute (couple new pads, oiled, etc. I was shocked that Shozo didn't lecture me on it being dirty; in fact, he told me it was pretty clean!), but my right hand is still troubling me. I'd hoped I could blame it on my flute but I think it's me. My hand position must be off - I'm having a hard time playing a fast, low part in Mozart's Allegro Con Spirito, which we're playing in flute choir. It's the low Ds and Es. It really is bugging me. And it doesn't help that we're trying to take it at the intended speed demon tempo.

I've been reading Sue Grafton's Kinsey Millhone "alphabet" books. I like a good mystery once in awhile, but Sue has written books A-U. I'm not sure how far I'm gonna make it. I finished L IS FOR SOMETHING on Friday. They're fun books, and Kinsey is a cool chick.

Yesterday I took a break from Kinsey and re-read Robert Heinlein's book HAVE SPACESUIT-WILL TRAVEL. The story is nothing new (humans are judged by intergalactic space council for their crimes against earth, blah blah blah, but the main character, a smartypants kid named Kip and his underage sidekick, a little girl named "Pee Wee" were a lot of fun), and this was one of Heinlein's early books for kids. Fun to relive being in middle school and "discovering" science fiction.

Saturday night we actually went to the movies and may have been the last two people in the world to see AVATAR. I was curious, but not expecting much. I've already read a lot about it. We saw the 3D version, even though we knew it would probably be a minimal experience for me: I'm slightly crosseyed, and my strabismus prevents me from participating fully in the cultural experience that is 3D. It also made learning to parallel park a 10 year mission (I can do it, but I will admit that I sometimes rely on faith). Patrick enjoyed the 3D crap but called AVATAR "The dumbest movie I've ever seen." I'll spare you all our comments. I'll tell you this much: we did a lot of giggling. Patrick actually had to shush me during some of it.

Well - Patrick has just pulled up with a box full of doughnuts. I've been wanting a doughnut all week, so I'm going to hit "publish" and go get one. See you later.

Linking L.A.: Google Maps adds bike routes for 150 cities, including Los Angeles

Linking L.A.: Google Maps adds bike routes for 150 cities, including Los Angeles

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Email fun!

I haven't done this in a while (post snippets of emails), but I thought it would be fun to share some bits and pieces of a funny conversation I had today with my friend Paul. No context, other to say that I had just read the entry in Wikipedia about Existentialism (you know, just to refresh my knowledge on the subject) and was trying to connect that with what we were talking about. I'll leave it to your imagination.

Sometimes you just have to name names. Without being specific those people would be wandering in the fog, the thinking and the being totally unnecessary.

(I like how that sounds, I don't know what I mean.)

Donate your old jeans! Gap partners with Cotton Inc. for a denim drive

I got an email last week from the Gap about this, and thought it was super cool. Click on the link below for more information.

Donate your old jeans! Gap partners with Cotton Inc. for a denim drive

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Post Oscars Commentary

Originally I had thought I might like to do some "live blogging" of last night's Oscars, but when I realized that since I'd only seen one of the nominated films (the nominated movie I saw was "Star Trek" - nominated in the "best makeup" category, I believe), it was obvious to me that my inexpert voice would add nothing to the jumble.

I'm actually surprised that I watched the whole broadcast (see how sophisticated I am, using a word like "broadcast," and right after using the word "nominated" three times in one sentence, too!), but it was a good program. I kind of enjoyed Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. I love Neil Patrick Harris but his opening was, in a word, lame. There were issues that other people also caught: the camera angles were weird sometimes; apparently McCaulay Culkin made a comment after the John Hughes tribute before his microphone was turned off, but now I can't remember what he said (and at the time, I thought the comment had been made by Ally Sheedy); not only was Farrah Fawcett left off the list of stars in the memorial section, I was confused by the tight shot on James Taylor and the wide shot of the screens showing the names. And why James Taylor? Were there no other more relevant musical acts that could've performed live during that moment? Also confusing: the endless dance number. Yay for choreography and dancers I gues, but what did that have to do with anything? And that woman who interrupted that man during his acceptance speech for a movie I'd never heard of but that I did choose (at random) to win in that category - what the heck was that all about? (The NY Times has the answer.)

And also, since I'm no fashion expert with my own suspect sense of style, I'll give an abbreviated recap of the people I liked, in alphabetical order, because that's how I roll:

• Sandra Bullock: Patrick and my friend Sarah thought her lipstick was too harsh, but I thought she was gorgeous. Loved this dress (but then I also liked the purple thing she wore that everyone ragged on), loved her hair, loved her sense of humor, loved her interview later with Barbara Walters.
• Penelope Cruz: I saw her on the pre-show lined up with all the other actresses in her category, and she was stunning. God - how does one get to be that gorgeous? Life's not fair. 
• Cameron Diaz: Not sure why she was there, but she looked pretty and soft for a change.
• Anna Kendrick: Damn, woman.
• Mo'Nique: Apparently her outfit was an homage to Hattie McDaniel, which I didn't know until later (obviously). I thought she looked delicate and feminine. Nice job.
• Demi Moore: Loved everything about her, until she spoke. I don't know, I wonder about Demi Moore. Don't you? I mean, when did she get that head injury?
• Carey Mulligan: Don't know who she is, didn't see her movie (as I already stated), have seen variations of that haircut before, but this one was the best.
• Molly Ringwald: I don't remember Molly having such intense eyeballs back in the 80s - but she looks great in purple!
• Meryl Streep: She looked so comfortable, and glamorous. Great hair.
• Sigourney Weaver: How old is Sigourney Weaver? It doesn't matter, because: pretty!

The ones I didn't like so much:

• Kathryn Bigelow: Beautiful woman, boring dress.
• Diane Kruger: Feathers? Halter? Flounces? What?
• Queen Latifah: Blah. Pageant dress. And do you like how I alphabetized her in the "L's"?
• Jennifer Lopez: her dress had this huge folded portion in the front that bothered me. What'd she have in there? But! I LOVED her hair. Messy, pretty, soft: I could wear that hair, I bet. And she's gorgeous, just not my cup of tea.
• Sarah Jessica Parker: That dress was straight out of Mrs. Robinson's closet. And the hair?! I know a lot of people on FB liked the way she looked, and the fashion-y people at the red carpet shows, but I just didn't like it. Matthew Broderick couldn't even help her. And when did his head get so big?!
• Charlize Theron: Those rosebud breasts were disturbing.

Here's the funny thing: all these women are more beautiful than I will ever be. So what do I know? Anyway, I'll do links later.

One thing I really liked was seeing all the happy couples (only George Clooney's gorgeous girlfriend strikes me as looking bored and unimpressed. Maybe that's why he likes her) on the red carpet. This photo is from the NY Times and I hope I don't get sued for using it, but I think I'm in love with that guy from "Inglourious Basterds." And Jeff Bridges - sure, he seemed high but congratulations to him. He seems like a lot of fun. And Colin Firth! Even their wives are lovely. Not pictured: my other favorite couple, Robert Downey Jr. and his wife. I loved her stripe-y dress.

I read some of the other readers' comments on the NY Times about the ceremony, and it cracks me up when people give their opinion on things but preface it with a very self-satisfied, Michael Kors-esque "Let's face it," as if what they're about to say is anything other than their own opinion. "Let's face it, 'Avatar' is a much better film than 'The Hurt Locker.'" Give me a break. Maybe you think that. Maybe other people think it, too. But it's YOUR OPINION. I don't have to "face anything," genius.

So? I guess I liked it this year. I watched the pre-show stuff and the entire show (well, okay, eating, tweeting, playing Scrabble online and chatting with Patrick the whole time), and I wasn't really disappointed. I'm definitely adding these movies to my Netflix queue. Maybe next year I'll actually see the movies before the Academy Awards, but don't count on it.

P.S. Oh! And another thing! Everyone has been griping about the tribute to horror movies and how "Silence of the Lambs" had been nominated for an Oscar and so shouldn't have been in the featured films. Well, duh: "Silence of the Lambs" isn't a horror movie. Neither was "Beetlejuice." Come on, let's face it, "Beetlejuice" was a comedy. And "Silence of the Lambs" was a thriller.

Finally... other than starring with Sandra Bullock in a couple of horrible movies, can anybody tell me what Keanu Reeves was doing there?

All Knowing iPod Meme

More of this. It's taken me awhile but I'm finding I'm not as original as I think I am. Anyway, this meme appears to be imparting my iPod with more power than I suspect it really has. Note: the instructions below state that I must say the questions out lout. Nobody's here but me and the cats - Patrick has a band rehearsal - and I'm sitting here watching the Oscars on TV in a flannel shirt and sweats, but you know what? I'm not gonna say these questions out loud. You can if you want.

Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.

How does the world see you?
"I'm Your Toy (Hot Burrito)" - Elvis Costello & the Attractions

Will I have a happy life?
"The Tourist" - Radiohead

What do my friends really think of me?
"Mystery Man" - Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

What do people secretly think of me?
"P.S. I Love You" - The Beatles

How can I be happy?
"Jackie Big Tits" - The Kooks

What should I do with my life?
"Panic" - The Smiths

Will I ever have children?
"Sofrimento" - Waldemar Bastos

(I just found out that "sofrimento" means "suffering" in Portuguese. Hmm.)

What is some good advice for me?
"Things Could Turn Around" - fIREHOSE

How will I be remembered?
"Click Clack" - Captain Beefheart

What is my signature dancing song?
"No One Lives Forever" - Oingo Boingo

What do I think my current theme song is?
"Vicious Traditions" - The Veils

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
"Another John Doe" - Thenewno2

What song will play at my funeral?
"Slow Like Honey" - Fiona Apple

What type of men/women do you like?
"Mr. Moustache" - Nirvana

(I swear to God I didn't manipulate this answer!)

What is my day going to be like?
"The Moneygoround" - The Kinks

Because I am too stinking lazy to come up with original content,

I have stolen the following quiz from somebody else. I steal from this chick all the time. She's cool.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
"Damn I need a haircut."

2. How much cash do you have on you?
Probably a dollar or so, in change.

3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?
Floor. Well. That was interesting.

4. Favorite planet?
You know? I'm not sure that I have a favorite planet. This one seems fine to me.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
My cell phone is dead right now. I'll let you know when I charge it.

6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
Robots. It means Patrick is calling me, and it makes me laugh.

7. What shirt are you wearing?
A light heather gray v-neck t-shirt.

8. Do you label yourself?
Maybe?

9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?
Previously I was wearing my J. Crew flip flops: brown leather with two shades of pink ribbon. Very cute.

10. Bright or Dark Room?
It depends upon the activities.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
She seems pretty cool, as I said before.

12. What does your watch look like?
Swiss army, square face, silver.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
Chit chatting with Patrick before we fell asleep.

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
Again, my cell is dead. I think it's from a friend of mine who was at the chiropractor.

15. Where is your nearest 7-11?
Down Woodruff, I think. I don't actually go to that one, though. I go when I'm in Culver City to the one on Washington and Sawtelle, or the one on Paramount and Candlewood in LB. Or any one if we need a Citibank ATM and we can't find a bank.

16. What's a word that you say a lot?
"Dude."

17. Who told you he/she loved you last?
My mother.

18. Last furry thing you touched?
Franny and Puma. They got flea powdered.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
Allegra, nasal spray, and Xanax. I rarely take Xanax, you caught me on a bad sleep night.

20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?
I'm sure there's some ancient roll hanging around somewhere but who knows/cares?

21. Favorite age you have been so far?
29.

22. Your worst enemy?
None! Yay!

23. What is your current desktop picture?
Some random Dell theme. I like it, but it changes frequently.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
Out loud? Patrick said he was going to the garage to play with his new cymbal stands (he didn't say "play"). I said "Okay!"

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?
Million bucks!

26. Do you like someone?
I always like someone.

27. The last song you listened to?
"Silent Hedges" by Bauhaus.

28. What time of day were you born?
I don't remember.

29. What’s your favorite number?
3. It's a magic number.

30. Where did you live in 1987?
At home with my parents in Culver City.

31. Are you jealous of anyone?
I try not to be... but yeah, probably.

32. Is anyone jealous of you?
It's doubtful.

33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?
Getting ready for my second day of work for the county.

34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?
Swear, walk away.

35. Do you consider yourself kind?
No.

36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?
Maybe on my shoulderblade? I don't know. I've thought about it but I think no.

37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?
French

38. Would you move for the person you loved?
Yes. Maybe.

39. Are you touchy feely?
Not really.

40. What’s your life motto?
I don't have a "life motto."

41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?
Some sort of hand lotion or moisturizer, lip balm (hello, Carmex!), my watch.

42. What’s your favorite town/city?
Chicago
Portland

43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?
My half of lunch with Andrea - fish tacos, two Fat Tire beers for me, and some weird-ass brownie sundae that was suspiciously missing the brownie.

44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
I wrote a note to someone on a post-it a couple of months ago. I write thank you cards all the time. I write thinking of you cards occasionally. A full on letter on paper? I have no idea.

45. Can you change the oil on a car?
I used to help Drew do his all the time but I don't think I could do it myself.

46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
Married, kids

47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?
Not very!

48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?
To perform "The Emperor and the Bird of Paradise" at City Garage for Bo's birthday. I wore my new black Calvin Klein dress, a little sweater, and heels. David, my narrator, wore a tux. We were sharp. Then later I changed into jeans and t-shirt and flip flops in the booth because it was too hot to be all dressed up.

49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?
Nope.

50. Have you been burned by love?
Yes! Who hasn't?

So I have strange taste in books

I started reading Sue Grafton's "alphabet" mystery series this week. I've known about these books since my days at Crown, when I sort of used to snicker about them. Hey: I was a snob, my mistake.

Anyway, it's funny, but I'm sort of addicted right now. I'm on F is for Fugitive. I think I'm in love with Kinsey Millhone. I'm picturing her in my mind, I want to be her when I grow up.

Somehow I love being lost in fictional Santa Teresa. I think Patrick and I should take a trip there (or, to Santa Barbara, which actually exists). Kinsey is younger than me (she ages slowly over the course of the books; Grafton's only on "U is for Something Irene Can't Remember," but she started writing these books 20 years ago, and at the time, Kinsey was 32. I don't think she's quite 40 yet), and she's a great character.

I'm picturing her as Trini Alvarado, or Justine Bateman. Fluffy short hair, strong - both those actresses are in their 40s but they could play 32 easily, I think.

I think what I mostly love is Kinsey's schedule. She works for herself, so she gets up when she wants, takes off when she wants, goes for a run when she wants... sure, she gets shot at or occasionally falls in the path of a bomb (a BOMB!? Sue Grafton, what the hell were you thinking?), and I'm a little tired of each story requiring a death defying feat of strength and/or wits - couldn't Kinsey solve a crime without getting beat up? - but hey, these books are terrific escapism, and I am all about that right now.

Now all I need is a beach to lie on while I read 'em.

This is what I am thinking about right now:

Some people make fun of me because when I go to Subway, I almost always order the same thing (below). Oh, sometimes I order a tuna, but right now the following sandwich would make me so happy:

Honey oat bread
Cheese (American is fine)
Chiopotle dressing
Spinach
Tomatoes
Cucumber
Bell peppers
Pickles (lots of 'em)
Feta (yes, you can charge me extra)
Avocado (yes, you can charge me extra, just give it to me!)
A little black pepper

A bag of chips (Fritos or maybe some Baked Lays), a diet Coke...

Oh man, I'm hungry. Why is it not time for lunch yet?
We're leaving at 11:30. They'd better not be out of avocado.

More information about Suffering Luna at the Air Conditioned Lounge on March 10

I have just been informed that Wednesday night at the Air Conditioned is "Metal Night." This seems like important information to have, so don't say I didn't warn you!

Oh, and if you visited Suffering Luna's MySpace page and listened to any of the music there, you probably noticed the obvious use of a drum machine. They're furiously recording new tracks with Patrick so keep an eye and an ear out for that. Just one is all you need. No really. You probably need to keep the other eye and ear on more important things.

(Did I mention that girls get in free?)
 
See the previous post for more details.

Suffering Luna at the Air Conditioned Lounge on March 10

"Suffering Luna" is the name of Patrick's new band, and their very first gig with Patrick as the drummer is next Wednesday, March 10, at the Air Conditioned in Venice. Suffering Luna's been around for awhile, but this is Pat's first live performance with them. You can check them out here.

The Air Conditioned
625 Lincoln Blvd.
Venice, CA


View Larger Map

Doors open at 7:00 pm, Suffering Luna at 10:45 p.m.
Girls free, guys $5.

By the way, I think all the tracks on the MySpace page feature drum machine, which is not, I repeat, is NOT Patrick. My man is not a machine!

I have an inexplicable desire to hear the song "Open Arms" by Journey

Well, not really "inexplicable," it might've been triggered by reading this. Careful, now. Slow dancing might be in my future.

Anyway, I had to take a shower around the same time this urge came upon me, so I spent the time in there, in between washing my hair and various other bits of personal property, flipping around between the three radio stations pre-programmed on my shower radio/CD player most likely to play it (The Sound, Jack, and KLOS; LA radio really sucks. Any minute now all three stations will be playing a Doors song). Instead of the song I wanted to hear (because when the hell does that ever happen?), I was treated to the following (some of them I only heard bits and pieces of):

Sunshine of Your Love, by Cream*
Get It On, by T Rex
Cocaine, by Eric Clapton (a live version, which I don't recommend)
Message In a Bottle, by the Police
Call Me, by Blondie
Gimmee All Your Lovin', by ZZ Top (oh man, I hate this song) 
A generic Tom Petty song, by Tom Petty (and not, say, John Mayer, who should just shut up)
Some song I can't remember the name of, by The Rolling Stones (not "Angie")**


I'm still waiting for Journey. With the quality of the songs I just heard (with one exception, these are all kind of sucky songs. I mean, I pretty much never need to hear "Cocaine" again)... it's gonna happen, I can feel it.

*This song has some of the dumbest lyrics I've ever heard. "Stay with you 'til my seeds are dried up"? That's just fuckin' gross.

**Patrick and I heard "Angie" on the radio on Saturday when we were driving down to Culver City for dinner, and I asked him if he thought Mick Jagger was a good singer. He didn't know (well, I think he does know but he didn't want to say). Later, in the parking lot, he was making me listen to this band he's into right now called Sunn O))). They're some kind of scary-ass doom band, and they're really creepy sounding. So to get back at him for poisoning my brain with Sunn O))), when we were waiting for the light to change so we could cross the street, I whispered, like Mick does in "Angie," "Angie." You know that part, I'm just not writing it out right. Now, I used to like that song because that's my sister's name (Angie. Am I being clear?), but now all of a sudden I'm having some doubt, right? And Patrick goes, "That right there - 'Angie' [imitating me imitating Mick] - is scarier than anything I've ever made you listen to!"

Oh, we have a good time, believe you me.

HEY! In the time it took for me to correct a tiny little boo-boo in the above that nobody would probably have ever noticed, one of those stations decided to play... Wheel In the Sky, by Journey! Also a good song. What else can I make happen today?

Size, um, matters?

Sometime last week I recieved a phone list for one of our divisions that was obviously created in Excel, and that's fine, usually. This particular phone list is okay - nothing special. Design-wise it's quite plain, actually, maybe lacking in consistency regarding formatting. There are a couple of minor mistakes involving the spacebar. Why am I telling you this? Because the genius who created it put it on legal sized paper.

This might be handy info to have but where the hell am I supposed to put it? My "info" binder is not legal sized. I have no desire to fold it. The damn thing has been sitting on my desk for days while I try to figure out how to handle it.

Totally stumped by an 8-1/2 by 14 inch piece of paper. Brought down by a size issue. Slowed to a crawl because... oh, fuck it, the truth is I don't really care. Wait, I think if I place it correctly on the copier, I can get it on a normal sized piece of paper.
 
Yep.
 
Problem solved. I'm a genius.

Oh, NBC, you disappoint me in so many ways.

Last night was the ladies' figure skating, short program. I like figure skating. My friend in elementary school did it, she got to wear pretty outfits, and I liked "Ice Castles," and I had a Dorothy Hamill haircut when I was little. It's exciting, dramatic, athletic, impossibly technical, emotional, beautiful: what's not to like? I think I'm not alone in this, either. And I know that what I am about to say has been stated already by others, and my two cents are no different or better said than anybody else.

But still.

WHY THE HELL DID THEY THINK I COULD STAY UP UNTIL MIDNIGHT ON A WEEKNIGHT TO SEE THE SKATERS I WANTED TO SEE? I tuned in at 8 p.m., and NBC was showing... the finals for ski cross. Granted, ski cross is pretty cool, but this is not what I wanted to see. So I waited. And yes, eventually I saw the girl from Turkey, Tugba (awesome name) skate. She did a great job,and I loved her outfit. One of the TV announcers said, "Of course she has no chance of a medal..." which I think is stupid. Don't handicap the thing while it's happening. Does he know? Maybe ALL THE OTHER GIRLS WILL SUCK. Maybe she will skate the program of her life! So maybe this is the point when I started to get aggravated. Then, sometime later, I did get to see Marai Nagasu skate (she's so fun to watch, she really is my favorite)... and then I fell asleep. On the couch. With all the living room lights on and the TV blaring and Patrick playing music in the other room and NO I WAS NOT COMFORTABLE. I was pissed off, actually, so I was "mad sleeping." Have you ever done that? It's no fun. It causes serious aggravation.

When I woke up at various moments between Marai and 10:30, what did I see? Ski cross finals. Women's bobsled (also exciting, but not what I wanted to see). Various commercials. Bob Costas. But where was the figure skating? Finally, at 11 I woke up one last time, and I got to see Kim Yu-Na... and then I was so fed up I just went to bed.

I missed the whole thing, pretty much, and I was really disappointed.

Seriously, NBC, you're killing me. And you know what? "The Marriage Ref" looks like a really stupid show. Good luck with that one.

Thursday night when they do the long program, I have flute choir, and so I won't get home until 10 p.m. If they stick to this schedule it will be fine. If they do something different I will be screwed. And while I have really enjoyed most of the other things I've seen of the Olympics, I will remember it only because I missed the stuff I most wanted to see. That sucks, NBC. You suck, NBC.

There. I'm finished.

Monday's update

Hi, everyone,

Last week we got some news about my mom's treatment: her last CT scan shows that the spot on her liver has increased in size by 20%. Her doctor is recommending two more months of chemotherapy. On Friday we'll see the doctor and ask him some questions, but for now this is the latest.

Mom's doing okay - chemo makes her tired, and takes away her sense of taste; most things taste "metallic" to her, which I'm sure you can imagine is no fun. She handled the news about the lesion well. This weekend she and my dad went to the desert to visit with their old friend, and I think being able to get away and visit is good for her.

I wanted to share with you a pretty cool story:

A friend of mine from school who I haven't seen in 20 years (Terry) recently got back in touch with me, thanks to Facebook. This has turned out to be a surprise blessing. He currently lives in Paris, France with his beautiful wife and children, and he has made it a point to offer me lots of support and friendship, which I appreciate so much.

A couple of weeks ago, Terry ran a 10K in France, and he dedicated his run to my mom. Last week I received in the mail the medal that he got for his run, and a beautiful letter that he wrote to my mom. She was really touched by this. Terry, my mom appreciated so much your words of hope.

People really are awesome sometimes.

Thanks to all of you for your support and for being a part of this.

Love you,
Irene

Great eats for a great cause!

Hi!

Most of you already know that since 2001, I have been involved in one way or another, with City Garage Theatre. Some of you have been there and seen the work this wonderful little theater group puts out. If you haven't, don't take my word for it: City Garage productions win awards and consistently receive good reviews from the Los Angeles Times, the LA Weekly, Backstage West and other local publications. You can read reviews and find out more about the theatre by visiting the newly revised website at citygarage.org.

I know nobody likes to be asked for money and I really don't like to do it, which is why this particular fundraising project is so easy: Kay 'n Dave's Cantina will soon be hosting "City Garage Week," where just by eating dinner, something you have to do anyway, you can help the theatre. How simple is that? Follows is all the information you need. We would really appreciate your support, and I thank you for taking the time to read this.

Kay 'n Dave's Cantina
City Garage Week
Sunday, February 21 - Sunday, February 28, 2010

Be sure to tell your server that you're with City Garage, and Kay 'n Dave's will donate 20% of your bill to City Garage.

Kay 'n Dave's Cantina Locations:
Brentwood: 262 26th St. (one block south of San Vicente) / (310) 260-1355
Culver City: 9341 Culver Blvd. (kitty corner to Trader Joe's) / (310) 558-8100
Rancho Park: 10543 Pico Blvd. (two blocks east of Overland) / (310) 446-8808
Pacific Palisades: 15246 Sunset Blvd. (between Antioch and Monument) / (310) 459-8118

We just wrapped up THE TROJAN WOMEN last night. Next up will be THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO, to open this spring. Hope to see you then!

Thanks again!

Best,
Irene

From a New York Time's story about Snowboard Cross in the Olympics

A quote from Graham Watanabe, one of the Americans who competed but didn't make it to the finals:

“Try to imagine Pegasus mating with a unicorn and the creature that they birth,” he said last week. “I somehow tame it and ride it into the sky in the clouds and sunshine and rainbows. That’s what it feels like.”

I have finally figured out what's missing in my life. What is missing is the activity, whatever it may be, that makes me talk like this.

Unless that activity is drugs, of course.

Crazy week!

On Monday, my mom got her CT scan. We're waiting to hear from the doctor's office still, but hopefully all will turn out well. Everybody's had good things to say, and she's doing okay. I left a message for Dr. McRobot, and hopefully we'll hear from him soon, with good things too.

Also on Monday, I started getting my allergy shots (for those rascally allergies to grass, dust, and the dreaded olive tree). While I was at Kaiser, I got a call from Patrick, who was also at Kaiser that day, because he'd been sick. Turns out he has bronchitis... and, the flu. Now, because we both got our flu shots this year (last year, in the drive-thru flu shot line), apparently his doctor said that he may have been exposed to H1N1.

Before you freak out, you should know that the doctor wasn't sure. But I decided to go see my doctor about the vaccine anyway. I mean, I was there. Now, it's possible that it was too late: if I was gonna get sick, I probably would have already, right? But it seemed like a good idea to me, so we went and did it anyway.

Then I saw my dermatologist, who was to check out that other problem.

It had been an exciting day, and I'd never seen this dermatologist before, so I'm sitting in the room, wearing that thin little robe thing, nervously checking out the diplomas of my doctor (Northwestern and Harvard), who, up until this moment, I had thought... was a woman.

When the door opened, however, and Dr. L came in the room, and he was a man, well, it was too much. I don't know why it was too much: I've shown my breast (and the other one too) to men before, but for some reason, all the crap of the day, of the week before, of the weekend: it all came out when I said,

"I didn't know you were a man!"

The guy was nice, though, and he handled my nerves (my nerves, you sickos) well. He listened to my stupid story politely, we discussed what I thought he would see, then he took a quick peek at the problem area, and determined that it was... nothing serious at all.

Anyway, it's all fine now. I didn't get sick, but I do have a sore throat and a headache, however, I make you a solemn promise: from here on out, I will not discuss any symptoms I maybe be having. The end.

...

Oh! Then on Wednesday? It was my birthday! Patrick was starting to feel a little better, so we spent the day relaxing and hanging out. It was a great day, capped off by a terrifically delicious dinner at Pizzeria Mozza in Hollywood. I have only good things to say about it, especially the amazing butterscotch budino (pudding) dessert. Maybe we're the last two people in LA to go there (I still haven't seen "Avatar") but wow. Yummy, yummy, yummy.

Yesterday I went back to work, where I had to deal with one unpleasant person (why are guys so unprofessional and they get away with it? If a woman acted the way... well, I'd better not say any more), a huge pile of stuff, plus a new project, but you know what? That's what work is. If it was easy... everybody would do it.

(That phrase really has nothing to do with anything but for some reason I like it.)

Now it's day 1 of a four-day weekend, and I've got nothing to complain about. Nothing. So? It's a good thing. See you later.

Photo of the day

Mom's next CT is today at 10:30 a.m.

My friend's blog!

Through the magic of Facebook, I recently reconnected with my friend Deb, who was the other (the first!) piccolo player in my high school marching band. We were a good pair of piccolo players!

Great girl, and now she's all grown up and doing something totally awesome:

She's going to walk in the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure, a 3 day walk consisting of 60 miles total, all to raise money to fight breast cancer.

It's pretty cool, you know?

Check her out (link to her blog "So this is life" on the right), and donate, if you are so inclined. I will.

Getting ready to take my mom to chemotherapy

It's raining. I'm about to get in the shower. Then I'll drive to Culver City (again) and pick up my mom, and we'll go to Kaiser. I'm having a weird morning. Patrick is fighting a sore throat by sleeping in. Franny keeps walking around in front of me and looking at me: I know she doesn't want me to pick her up: it's not her thing (I'm only allowed to cuddle her in the bathroom... long story). I think she wants some of the leftover milk in my cereal bowl.

I think it's pretty funny and lame that even though I've been missing flesh and blood interaction with my friends for a longwhile now, last night after flute choir, I drove through the parking lot of the bar in Culver City where I knew at least one of them was hanging out and kept going instead of stopping in and having a drink, which I really wanted. I did the same thing, last week.

I need to think about this some more.

Doctor My Eyes

What is up with this business with my eye? Stupid allergies. I've got the redness on my upper eyelid again. As if it wasn't fun enough the first time around.

Luckily, it took just seven telephone calls before I was able to book an appointment with the dermatologist for my other little problem. That will happen Monday, and I guess I can ask about this then, too. Hopefully the dermatologist will be more tactful than the allergist. I'm actually looking forward to a nice verbal smackdown.

My mom's getting her scan Monday.

Sweet Talkin' Woman (Hint: I'm not talking about myself)

My mom, my mom, my mom.

Still gettng chemotherapy (two weeks on, one week off). She's been going regularly since Thanksgiving. Can you believe it? The first week is okay, I guess. Second week is pretty rough, but she's hanging in there. On Monday she had some blood drawn. Because I have (with her permission) access to her Kaiser online profile, and because Kaiser emails you with your test results, during the middle of the day yesterday I saw the test results.

They make it very easy to understand. There's an explanation of what each test is, why they've done it, and then next to your results, the range that you want your results to be in. Beyond that, of course, you should discuss things with your doctor. So I did a little looking around, and one of the tests worries me - it's related to liver function. There are actually two tests, and they're both, you know, outside the normal ranges. But see, I'm not a doctor. I barely passed high school biology (fucking frog), and please: let's not even talk about chemistry (I think I was sitting on the floor out in the hall with Rachel for much of the time). So I know that my review of these tests is half-assed and dumb, and I'm just getting worked up. Right? Right.

After I got home from work and talked with Patrick about it, he performed his magic trick and got me to stop worrying about it for awhile, and then I went to bed, and then I got up in the morning, and yeah, it was still on my mind. Around the middle of the day, my mom's doctor emailed us and her explanation of the situation was (as usual) more upbeat than mine. She wants the oncologist to review the tests, of course. Some of this is related to the crazy chemotherapy, she's sure. Mom's doctor is the type to put a positive spin on things, and I thought I was that type too, but with all my mother's been through... I'm kind of ready for her to get some down time. Time to get better and stop with the doctor's visits and sitting around and time to get better, did I mention that?

I wrote about this on Facebook a little today (my status, I mean), and in response to my friend Kate, who agreed that checking things out was a good idea, I wrote:

I would like to stop worrying that bad shit is around the corner, now, please. Thank you.

 Doesn't it seem to you like a good time for things to work out okay now?
 It does.

On my way home from work, "Sweet Talkin' Woman" by the band Electric Light Orchestra came on my iPod. I never really paid attention to the song before but you know what? That is one happy song. So I listened to it, oh, five times or so all the way home, and at least twice while me and Patrick went to Whole Foods. It really helped turn my mood around. And now I'm going to go to bed.

For your listening pleasure:



Good night.

I want, I need, I write about it instead

I need:

• A bike ride
• A haircut (last week's scheduled appointment had to be pushed back a week, so I'm getting it this Saturday instead, but by waiting another week, it means I might make poor decisions, like when we go grocery shopping when we're hungry and I get grumpy and impatient and eat a whole bag of chips before we even leave the parking lot)
• A super-long trip to the bookstore
• A flute lesson
• To put away all the laundry I did two weekends ago
• To do more laundry
• A new HEPA vaccuum
• To stop eating a bowl of popcorn every night for dinner

I want:

• These boots
• A pair of Bass penny loafers (thank you, J. Crew, for fueling this passion. And, were they always this expensive, because I swear I had a pair in the 80s and there's no way my mother bought them at this price?)
• New sunglasses
• A stylist, trainer, maid, and a personal chef
• A 12-pack of Diet Coke for work
• Another day to spend lying around reading science fiction
• After 35 days of not eating meat, my brain is telling me it wants a cheeseburger, but I swear to god, brain, quit it. You do not need a cheeseburger. Think of the pretty cows.

High finance in action

Today I gathered up my giant Martinelli's Apple Juice bottle full of coins (and one $1 bill) and took it over to Ralph's supermarket, where they have a Coinstar machine. Technically I have two of these jars (we like apple juice!) but the other one is only half full, and not ready for depositing.

You insert your money in the machine, Coinstar counts your change and then presents you with a voucher (less 8 cents per dollar) that you can redeem at the cash register. I felt a little foolish doing this so I dressed way down for the event, even for me: I wore my ratty old Old Navy capri length sweats, flip flops, a denim jacket, and my t-shirt with a picture of Ham the Space Chimp wearing a space helmet and smoking a cigarette. I don't know why I felt foolish: maybe because it seems like a desperate act. Here's all my coins! I need the money!

But really, I was just starting to get curious. How much money could an apple juice jar hold, anyway?

It took awhile to find out. At first I kind of overloaded the machine's tray: I didn't realize that the slot for accepting coins was pretty small. That jar was heavy, though, and I was trying to unload it quickly. After a few moments I realized I couldn't dump it all in at once, and I spent about 10 minutes feeding the first group of change into the machine. The on-screen tally at this point was fairly low: I had about $1.98 fed through.

In time, though, I got the hang of it. The Coinstar machine is near the front of the store, next to the Western Union machine and the lottery machine. A bearded man walked up while I was working and he gave me a strange look. I had my sunglasses on (this was a totally anonymous transaction all around for me today), and I guess I gave him a strange look back. Here I was, cashing out on more money than he'd probably make playing the lottery and here he's judging Me?

At the end, I had $62.20, with $6 going back to Coinstar. I was pleased. Ralph's only had two lanes open when I was there, and one was the Express lane, which I initially headed toward. But I realized that the woman working that line was more interested in kissing the baby of the woman at the front of the line, and I didn't want to wait for her to get to me, so I went to the other. This turned out to be a mistake.

The woman in line in front of me had a small amount of items, but one of those items was a box of individual frozen burritos. Turns out there were 24 of them, all of which apparently had to be rung up one at a time. The blond woman working the register saw me with my Ham the Space Chimp t-shirt and sunglasses and Coinstar voucher, and called another clerk to ring at the register next door, but instead of calling me over, the dude called the guy behind me over (rude!). So I stood there and waited while the burrito lady paid for her groceries with singles. Really, and I looked suspicious? When it was my turn, she didn't smile, or say hello, though I did. She appeared to be subtly checking my arms for needle marks. She took my voucher, counted out my money, dropped a dollar, found it, gave it to me somewhat reluctantly (probably saying a little prayer for me) and sent me on my way, probably off to buy drugs (she thought). I thanked her and walked out of there with my money in my left hand and my receipt and now-empty apple juice jar in my right hand. Sure, the tips of my fingers were dirty (change is gross and filthy), but I hadn't rolled a bum or little old lady for the money: most of it came out of Patrick's pockets, when doing his laundry.

I earned that money.

Google-ing random symptoms = total insanity

I wrote some of this last night in an email to a friend:

Last week I had an appointment with an allergist - I am interested in getting those shots that are supposed to eventually cure you of your allergies (temporarily; apparently it's only good for 10 years). My doctor turned out to be young, gorgeous, efficient, and really nice, so while I was there, I opened up to her a little. I know I should probably not need my doctor to have any of the previously mentioned attributes in order to share information about my own health, but what can I say? I was comfortable. Anyway, I mentioned to her that my eczema had flared up a little... on my breasts? I thought she might be interested in knowing that. She didn't examine me (it was my choice: Do you want me to examine you, she asked? No, I said, because surely it's nothing!) but then she said, kind of on our way out of the room, "Not to scare you, but if you want, I can recommend you to see a dermatologist, because if it's only one breast that's affected, it could be a sign of cancer."

Sure. "Not to scare you" - as if that line ever works. After she said that, I had to think: is it just one? Or both? So since then, I have been looking at them rather intently, which is... interesting. It's not a big deal: I've had eczema for years, and this is a very mild case. A little moisturizer, and ta da! It's gone. But I commit the ultimate sin (super hot showers), so every morning I get out of the shower, and you know? There's itchiness, dryness, and it's not going away. And I am too shy to do a self-exam. I know: I'm stupid. No: I just don't want to feel something and be all, OH MY GOD I FELT A LUMP and then have to deal with the subsequent drama and calming down and panic that will involve. I'm no expert.

(Note: I think women should do their own self-exams. I've done them in the past, I will do it in the future, I'm just not crazy about it. Sure, it causes "anxiety." But some stuff you just have to shut up and do.)

After not thinking about it (yeah right) or doing anything for a couple of days, today I found this (note: this was the first link that came up, so any hysteria I'm feeling is silly and unfounded, I know).

Paget's disease. I could have it.

Of course I probably don't, but after last year's cyst scare (that turned out to be nothing), and everything that's going on with my mom, and the fact that I uttered the words "I actually like my breasts" to somebody (karma! God is punishing me for being vain!, which is funny, because one is totally noticeably bigger than the other one... still, I like them, okay!)... I'm a little bit freaked out.

I think I will call her and ask for that referral. I really like dermatologists, anyway. They're always so clean.

After writing it all down and allowing myself to think about it, I felt a lot better. I talked about it to Patrick at home, and he was calm and cool and said, "Hey, just see the dermatologist, and I'm sure it's all fine, but then you can feel better." Exactly my thoughts, too, man, but this is why I married you. This morning I took a break at work and went to the car and made the phone call. I feel better already. I'll keep you posted. Or not.

I am the biggest loser

Knowing that my mother enjoys the TV show "Biggest Loser," I started watching it this year. My mom likes a lot of TV shows I don't watch, and I thought it might be a good idea if I started following at least one so I could contribute to the conversation when she brings it up. She likes to tell you the plots of things (books, movies, etc.) and if I haven't seen or read whatever it is she's talking about, it's a pretty boring conversation. So I've been watching Biggest Loser. I know it's been on for a while, and I thought I knew what it was (a weight loss show?); I was totally unprepared for the psychological drama.

For one thing, that woman Jillian is insane. Her rubber face scares the heck out of me. Sure, I would love to have her work me out all day, because I know I'd end up looking fantastic, but if I had to deal with her contstantly imploring me to get in touch with my feelings while she's screaming at me (or clinging to my back while I crawl on my forearms through the dusty grass), I'd have to say thanks, but no thanks. At first I thought that what she and Bob (the other trainer) had going on was a good-cop/bad-cop routine, but they're both a little nuts. He's as bad as she is, but he puts a smiley face on it, and that's just as creepy.

I'm falling for the contestants, though. There are a couple of people who are playing reality show head trip games (I don't know your names yet [Red Team, I'm talking to you] and I think I like it that way), but otherwise - the mom of the pink team, the one lady left on the purple team, the one guy left on the brown team (how sad for him, to have to be the "brown" team), and the two dudes on the gray team: these people are likable and working hard. I'm kind of hooked because of them.

Adult Education

Because I am/was a lazy bum, most of my friends are more highly educated than I am (does the word "highly" belong in that sentence?). This is fine, as it serves to keep me in my place (it's also helped me hone my well-developed self-deprecating sense of humor). And it means I got to have a lot of fun retail jobs while they were off getting drunk at college.

One of my friends is a professor of Spanish at a private college in some state on the other side of the country. He's currently kicking my butt in a Scrabble game on Facebook (he figured out that he wins 4 out of every 5 games he plays with me. I really didn't want to know that, I guess, but I'm addicted. So? He's really good at Scrabble. That one game out of 5 that I win is celebrated like, I don't know, something historical and wonderful that was won which everyone thought would be lost. You fill in the blanks, smartypants), and on Monday, he was in town visiting.

I've known this guy for a long time: we went to high school at around the same time (though I'm about 3 years older than he is; if we'd gone to the same high school, I wouldn't have deigned to talk to him. This could be why I have so few friends). We met through my flute teacher, who was also his flute teacher. He got more of her - she taught at his fancy music school, so he saw her all during the week instead for one hour at a private lesson. I think she liked him and the other kids she saw in that program more than she liked me (at the time) because they were terrific musicians, and obviously well-trained, but I don't know, that could be the scared 16 year old kid I was, speaking. They were fearless musicians. These kids had musical dreams that some of them actually fulfilled. Even though I was older, he and his buddies at the fancy music school were a bit more advanced than I was. She'd pair us up into groups occasionally to sight-read, and because I was shy, and unconfident, they walked all over me for awhile. Also, when I'm in a group of people who know each other well like that, I tend to get intimidated, and these kids could play. My friend can B.S. his way through any piece of music, and it took me a lot longer to learn how to do that convincingly (I have been known to cry at difficult passages). But we all grew up, he moved away (we kept in touch sporadically until the Miracle of Facebook), and I continued to study privately with my flute teacher until well into my 30s. I learned a lot from her, including how to count, sight-read, and play in tune (my proudest skill). He went off to college and got some fancy advanced degrees in interesting subjects and became a teacher. Oh, I'm sorry: a professor. And me and our flute teacher nourished and grew a friendship out of our student-teacher relationship that I treasure to this day. There's nobody I'd rather room with at a flute convention, that's for sure.

Incredible, isn't it?

Anyway, my friend was in town on Monday. He'd been traveling, doing some research on a subject I'm not going to name here (it's interesting, a bit risque, and his own business to tell), and we all got together for lunch and quartets (we were joined by another flutist). I was surprised that I had quite a bit of information about the subject he's researching (let's just say it's not something Nice People know about; then again, when did I ever profess to be "Nice"?), and it was fun to discuss it with him and our former flute teacher, now our friend. Now, I couldn't go on and write a scholarly paper or anything on the subject (nor would I want to), or probably, any subject, but it was great to have a highbrow conversation about an indecent topic and not feel like I was uninformed and stupid.

And the quartets were a lot of fun, too.

This has come to mind because for the last couple of days I have been feeling less than brainy. At work I have been slow; I'm not dyslexic but you wouldn't know it from listening to me talk (a little while ago I was telling my boss and her secretary that the second floor bathroom is closed and being repaired. They asked how I knew, and I stated that "there's a door on the sign"). Yesterday I managed to date something November 19, 2010; I filled in an Excel spreadsheet with the wrong data and didn't understand how, exactly, I had managed to do that; I couldn't figure out how multiplying something by 0.9 results in being 10% less than the original number even though I tested it and can see that it works... My brain was fried, and I don't even know why. I have done nothing to cause this (i.e., there has been no alcohol in my recent past). Today I feel a bit more logical, but I wonder if I just need more flute playing. I was smarter when I knew it was in my future. Luckily flute choir starts tomorrow night, and I'm counting on those 2.5 hours to smarten me up.

Because apparently I have some kind of strained muscle in my back

(and not a UTI as I thought), I am on drugs right now for the PAIN. It's not a lot of pain; I think two prescriptions was overkill, I probably will not continue to take them both because they both make you (or me, as the case may be) tired (duh), and maybe a bit confused, so I'm not capable of writing much else right now, SO I am going to do another question-y thing. Misspelled words, questionable grammar, and typos are to be blamed on my new, white, round little friends.

I got this one from the Middle Aged Diva (hands off my Stewart Copeland, babe; otherwise she seems totally charming and fun).

Oh, and this is a bonus: there's not a damn thing on television I want to watch right now, so I'm watching "Ski Flying."

Do you get regular massages? Not since Bruce retired. I've been frequenting once in awhile this reflexology place that opened last year near my house, dry cleaner, and hair salon. Just got one on Sunday, and it was perfect.

Do you have an answering machine? Yes but if you really need to get in touch with me I recommend calling my cell phone.

What cuss word do you use the most? It depends upon to whom I am speaking. Variants on the F word, I guess.

Are you underweight or overweight? I'm pretty much borderline overweight, I guess, though I just lost 4 pounds without really trying, much to my surprise.

Can you see your veins? Some of them. They don't spell out words or anything.

Favorite...
Soap? Cetaphil
Fruit? Blackberries (is that a fruit? or a berry?)
Kind of red meat? As of Dec. 30 I've sworn off meat. I did love steak (bloody but not cold). And lamb, but I didn't allow myself to eat it very often. Lambs are too cute to eat. Other meat, well, maybe one day again but probably not any time soon.
Fish? I've practically almost decided to be the type of person who doesn't eat meat but on occasion eats fish (the last time I had fish was probably a year ago, not counting tunafish, which, I don't know why you wouldn't count it, it's fish, those big ol' tunas deserve to live too...). I'm not a big fish eater, and so my answer here will be vague, until I can make up my mind.
Candy bar? Hershey bar with almonds.

Have you ever...
Eaten a whole bag of potato chips? Unfortunately. It's also very easy for me to devour an entire tin of Pringles.
Eaten lobster? Yes, but not very often. I like it a lot.
Climbed a mountain? Hell no. But there was that hill at Leadership Camp that Rachel and I stupidly climbed up and then couldn't get down without Adam's intervention...
Been skydiving? No.
Been water skiing? No.

Do you...
Wish you could change something about your life? Yes.
Like your nose? I wouldn't change it or anything, but my nostrils are kind of large.
Like salt and vinegar chips? Sometimes.
Eat salsa? Mild salsa. Tito's salsa.
Own a boat? No.

What is
a small thing that people let slide but that actually has dire consequences? Not signaling lane changes. Or jaywalking.
Your most macho trait? I'm not very patient. Is that a macho trait?
The longest relationship you've ever had? Married 11 years, met my husband when I was 17.
Your most embarrassing thoughts? Please see http://meetingstewartcopeland.blogspot.com/ for examples.
Your most shameful moment? Breaking up with Drew in a poorly planned and unfair way in a parked car near my elementary school.

This/That

Bath/shower? Shower but if I'm in a nice clean hotel...
Markers/crayons? Markers.
Pens/pencils? Both
Jelly/cream cheese? Either
Bagel/toast?  Decisions, decisions...

Finish...

My greatest weakness is... My fantasy life; buying music.
I wish I was... Skinnier. Motivated. Braver. Had better personal style.
Three things I wouldn't do for a million dollars is... kill, kill, kill
The oddest thing I've ever put in my mouth is... Bleh.

Firsts

Credit card you had? I think it was an American Express card.
Loan you got was for? Used car.
First paycheck was for how much? No idea. But they don't pay 15 year old library pages a whole lot of dough.
Time you had stitches? I have never had any stitches that am aware of.
Time you went to the hospital for something? I had some kind of eye surgery when I was a baby.

Lasts

List everything you ate in the last 24 hours? Popcorn, a diet Coke, veggie chipotle burrito, yummy spinach scrambled eggs, banana bread with raisins and cream cheese, frut, half a cup of coffee with cream and sugar, orange juice
Last thing you used a credit card for? Shoes
What was your last job? Before my civil service job I was a bookstore manager.
Last thing you celebrated? My brother's birthday.
Last time you were at a sports bar? Years and years. The staff of 20/20 Video used to go to Gabes, a crappy sports bar, where we went to see a crappy cover band, drink, and play that weird game with the little football guys. I was not impressed.

Dream

Last night I had a dream that Patrick and I had a huge fight, bigger than any argument we've ever had in real life but I can't remember what it was about or what we said. I just remember feeling very un-connected with him and separate and damn that was scary.

I woke up at 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Instead I turned on the heater, brought a blanket and pillow out to the living room, fired up the laptop, wrote a long silly letter to Stewart Copeland and have been uploading music for my mom's iPod, my super-project.

Patrick's in bed, snoring away, obvlivious.

I think I'll do some laundry, too. Since I'm awake anyway.

From the "things I should've known already" list:

• Jeff Porcaro is dead.

More items to be added soon, I'm sure.

Housekeeping

2010 opened with me having a renewed interest in the care and upkeep of my home ("renewed" indicates that there was a previous interest that had gone stagnant... well, I'll just let you keep thinking that), and over the past weekend, I spent a lot of time in my living room, bedroom, and bathroom. Since I apparently have lost the ability to single-task effectively, all three rooms were looked at and worked on at the same time; none of them has been finished just yet. Maybe this will be an ongoing project. I suspect that's all housework is, anyway.

So I got out all my vaccuums (for some reason I have three, and none of them is all that great): the little hand-vac for small jobs, the slightly larger red one for slightly larger jobs (it's the best for kitty litter), and the medium-sized green one for the one patch of carpet in my whole house (living room). I bought a couple new microfiber cloths for dusting, refilled my Swiffer Wet Jet, and had my sister pick out a mop thing for me (she is better than Martha Stewart at keeping things clean, and the model for my new life as someone who cares about cleaning). I went through all my books and the bookshelves in the living room, and rid myself of things we had been collecting for no apparent reason and the things I was hanging onto for sentimental reasons but it was time to let go of (my decrepit, dusty, and disintegrating bridal bouquet, for example. Now, if I had handled it correctly from day 1, I could have kept it as a treasured memento from a beautiful day with my husband and family; unfortunately, the thing was just too fragile and jacked up to keep. Pieces of it were all over the place. I took a farewell photo of it, told Patrick, who probably didn't realize what event that particular graying bunch of roses was even from, kissed him, and then I unceremoniously dumped it in the trash.

I don't have a ton of books, but I decided it was time to let go of some of them, and so I filled a couple of paper grocery store bags with the ones I don't want anymore. I mostly kept the ones I've read more than once, and even after culling out the losers, I have quite a few more books than I probably should (and man, how'd I get so many Philip Roth novels? I must have like 15 of his books). I always said I'd I never get rid of any books, that they were all treasured friends, but some of them were just embarrassing (though: I did keep my high school copies of "Atlas Shrugged" and "The Fountainhead" - two examples of bad writing/thinking that for some reason I have a soft spot for that Ayn Rand probably wouldn't appreciate). It is time to lighten the load, and then maybe in a little while, get some more.

Last night, Patrick was out at a band rehearsal so I stopped at the library on the way home to see if I could find any CD's for an iPod I'm planning on loading for my mom's birthday. Surprisingly, they had quite a lot of music I think she'll enjoy (and I need to figure out how to get her music into my iTunes but not on my iPod - believe me when I tell you that nothing will piss me off more than cruising down the freeway and having, I don't know, Tony Bennett or Sandy Patti come streaming out my stereo speakers), and when I got home, I started uploading CD's. While that was going on (my laptop is slow at this), I took a look around the living room, and decided it was time to tackle: The Crickets.

I think I wrote about the crickes awhile ago. They've sort of invaded our living room, but they're not visible or annoying except for doing that thing crickets do. It doesn't really bother me when I don't think about it too much, but last night I started thinking about it.

(Time out here: I admit that Patrick and I have sort of been living like sloppy college students all these years. Every once in awhile I get inspired to clean, but we never really keep things clean. We run the dishwasher, but we never empty it, so new dirty dishes pile up. We do laundry, but unless I do it, there's always a basket full of clean but slightly wrinkled clothes around. If we're having company, we clean up, and the place looks nice on the surface... but hidden away in closets and various cubby holes, if you looked closely, you would find all our mess, ready to take over again once the guests leave. I would like to be more like my sister, and my friends who have homes that would be presentable even with no notice or a special cleaning crew beforehand. Yeah, it's a big change, but I'm gonna try.)

So I moved a few bookscases, got out my trusty hand-vac (it's perfect for crickets and cat food; not necessarily one and the same, but sometimes...), and found a couple teeny tiny crickets hiding behind the TV. Franny was a big help in this venture. Just saying "Franny! What's that?" put her in huntress mode, and my kitty is no scaredy-cat. We conquered some of the crickets (but I'm sure there are more. Hiding. I'm not really strong enough to really move the TV), and then I was walking behind the couch in this big open space we have there, and I saw what I thought was some fluff from the carpet. It was black (we have some black in the carpet), and it looked just like those fibers that come off the kitty scratching posts. So I aimed my hand-vac at it, and... right before it got sucked in, it moved.

Turns out that piece of fluff was some kind of large bug (disturbed, probably, when I moved the bookcases), now trapped in the tiny body of my hand-vac, along with who knows how many baby crickets and whatever else had been caught up in there. And suddenly I acquired an irrational fear of my hand-vac.

I set it down without folding it up (it folds up to go live on it's base) in the middle of the living room floor. Franny came sniffing around, and we both just looked at it. Here's the thing I was envisioning:

Being in the hand-vac was probably heaven to that stupid bug: all the crickets he could eat! Lots of dust and hair and what-not to roll around in, and did I mention the crickets? So I pictured the bug swelling to astronomical un-bug like proportions, and then me forgetting the bug was in there, opening the little side door to empty the little canister, and being confronted by super-bug.

"Ewww" was the only word I could muster out loud. So I gingerly picked the thing up, took it outside and set it on the back steps, and waited for Patrick to get home so he could be the one to empty it. He didn't want to (poor guy was beat up after that band rehearsal, wherein he utilized his crazy new mega-bell ride cymbal for the first time, which is practically gong like but crashy and fucking loud), but he finally did it. He brought it back in the house and let me examine it. There was no trace of the havoc I had wreaked on the animal kingdom earlier that night. I put it back on the base, pushed all the bookcases back up against the wall, and went back to uploading CD's for my mom.

This weekend I plan on finishing, finally, the living room, bathroom and bedroom, and then I'll set about tackling the kitchen, which shouldn't be too difficult - we never use that room. Then I'll have to set my sights on my office, which is chock full of crap to be shredded and painted and we need new blinds, and I'd like a smaller desk and less computer equipment, and maybe a sleeper love seat, and...

Happy new year, Irene!

Last week I had to run an errand to the post office during lunch. It took awhile, and so I was left with not a lot of time in which to get something to eat before I had to be back to work. Luckily there's a Starbucks around the corner, so I went there for a sandwich.

I was the only customer. I was the only customer for awhile. The guy behind the counter was young. He's cool (I've been there before but he didn't recognize me), and we talked a little bit about what I was ordering. He and his co-workers were listening to Radiohead. Starbucks-sanctioned, I guess. I love his East LA accent. I've worked in East LA for a little over a year now, and have really started to appreciate that this area has a special sound. It's not all that lilting, or a sexy accent: it's angular, and harsh, and the cadence can be strange, but there's something about it that I just love. Some of the people I've met with this accent don't even, like me, speak Spanish or any language other than English - they were born here, like me. But whereas I sound like every other person on television or straight out of Culver City, they have these exotic voices and speech patterns. I'm learning to imitate it for Patrick's entertainment, but I'm no minic. Still: it's fun to try.

The guy who helped me was really nice. I chose the mozzarella, tomato and pesto sandwich, a Rice Krispy treat (those things are dangerous) and a blackberry Izze. After I paid, he asked if I wanted him to heat up my sandwich, and he explained just how much heating it up improved the experience of eating it. He was very helpful, and friendly.

While he was doing that, I was just standing there, kind of staring out the window. The barista was standing at the counter to my left, not paying any attention to me, which was fine, because I didn't order a coffee drink. He had the same coloring as me. I think we look like we could be from anywhere: Mexico, Iran, India... Hawaii. Both these dudes were young, probably in their early 20s.

Suddenly, in the silence of the totally empty (except for me) Starbucks, the barista yelled, "What's UP Irene!"

Someone had entered the store but I didn't realize it. I looked at him all startled and googly eyed, and then I realized he wasn't talking to me. I was glad I had my sunglasses on. A young woman had walked in and she was standing in line behind me. I got out of the way to continue to wait for my sandwich and so she could order, and she and the barista had a funny but not very original conversation about how drunk they had been last night/that morning, and how drunk they planned on being later that day. She was tall, with short dark hair with lighter colored streaks in it, and she was wearing an apron. She had the same East LA accent, but female. She was tough-sounding. And pretty.

At a lull in their conversation, I spoke to her.

"Your name is Irene too?" I said.

"Yeah! You're Irene?" She said.

"That's why you looked at me all funny," the barista said.

I smiled. "I never used to meet people my age with my name," I said. "But now we're all over." (Usually the name Irene was reserved for crazy old neighbor ladies or somebody's crackpot maiden aunt on TV; I work with three other women, all about my age or younger, with the name now. Yes, I realize that makes me the crazy neighbor lady now. Oh, and there's also that weird Captain Beefheart song about a woman named Irene and a man named Harry who are well known for their tunafish sandwiches. Oh, that Captain Beefheart!)

"I know, huh!" Irene said. "I met a guy named Irene the other day! For real!"

"Really," I said. "That's weird."

"Yeah, man [looking at her barista friend], he kept saying it was his real name!"

At this point my sandwich was ready, and the other Irene and the barista continued their conversation about their upcoming plans to continue the drinking from the night before. They were defnitely entertaining me at this point. I miss working in retail!

I turned around to leave, and Irene said, "Bye Irene! Hey, it was nice meeting you!"

"Bye Irene! Happy New Year!" I said.

First (and probably last) silly list of questions of the year

I found these questions on the blog of a woman who appears to have a crush on Stewart Copeland, and I decided that answering them would be interesting. Well, for me. You have to make up your own mind. Anyway, this other woman who likes Stewart is also funny, and interesting and un-hateable. So. Jane? I hope Jon Hamm calls you right before Stewart calls me, because I would hate to fight you. Really. I would hate it, but I would do it.

Here we go!

Where did you take your profile pic?
I think it was taken in the bathroom.

What exactly are you wearing right now?
Black boots, a pair of Patrick's black Christmas socks, greenish-brown pants, black sweater over a black tank top, black panties and bra, my watch, wedding ring, hair thing around my right wrist, a black metal barrette (it was early when I dried my hair this morning), hundred-year old Banana Republic earrings that I am always wearing, glasses, face of sleepiness, Essie nail polish "Cherry Pop."

What is your current problem?
Do I have to go to tomorrow night's pickup rehearsal for the Trojan Women? Do I have time (i.e., money) to get my flute fixed before flute choir starts? Was my last post on my Stewart Copeland blog too personal?

What makes you happy most?
When Patrick and I are cruising down some highway with metal or weird jazz or Captain Beefheart on the radio and he's explaining some musical/alien lifeform/complicated computer/politics-related thing to me.

What's the name of the song you're listening to?
"Because the Night," by Patti Smith. Just in my head, though.

Any celebrity you would marry?
Yes, but only with Patrick's permission.

Name someone with the same birthday as you
I can't think of anyone with the exact same birthday, but Patrick's cousin Adrian's birthday is right around mine and he's an amazing guitarist and excellent person, and so for those reasons alone, I name him now at your request: Adrian Esparza, you have been named.

What this means, I have no idea.

Ever sing in front of a large audience?
If what I did to those Stevie Nicks songs at karoke counts as "singing," and if the 20 or so people at The Scarlet Lady who saw/heard me do it count as a "large audience" (less, probably, because I think some of them were playing pool), then, yes. Or did you perhaps mean all the people who saw me singing along with Patti this morning on the 710? Or the two friends who received a recording of me singing the first three lines to "Blue Moon" in their inbox on New Year's Eve (neither has acknowledged receiving that particular message; maybe they're playing "if we pretend this never happened," which could be okay, because I sort of forgot the melody by the middle of the second line)...

Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Not really. Andrea has a photo of a little girl from a Quaker Oats ad she claims looks like me... but she's hardly a celebrity. In fact, I think she's a drawing. So? No.

Do you speak any other languages?
Nope.

Has anyone you've been really close with passed away?
Yes.

Do you ever watch TV?
All the time.

What's something that really annoys you?
Self-righteousness, parking lots that ignore the fact that pedestrians will be using them once they get out of their cars; when people come visit me at work and they stand right behind my chair; that it takes five guys/girls at Subway to make my sandwich. Wouldn't it go much faster if just the one guy did it and I didn't have to tell everybody in the damn store what I want five times?

Middle name?
It was Laura. Now it's Casarez.

Nickname(s):
Bean, Beanie, Beans, Goofball, Dumbass

Current location:
Super-secret location

Eye color:
Brown

Do you get along with your parents?
Yes, most of the time.

Are your parents married/separated/divorced?
Married. And still sweet on each other.

Do you have any siblings?
Two brothers, a sister

Ice cream
Sure. Chocolate malted crunch, please.

Season
I live in LA., so whatever season means 72 degrees, not too windy, that's fine with me, thanks.

Shampoo/conditioner
Whatever Nina tells me to use

Dance in the shower?
Oh, yeah. I need a new tub mat - almost took a spill yesterday.

Do you write on your hand?
Mostly unintentionally - I'm left handed and sometimes it drags on the ink. Made that calligraphy class I took in 1991 lots of fun.

Call people back?
Yes. I hate answering the phone but not actually using it.

Believe in love?
Of course.

Any bad habits?
Idealizing people

Any mental health issues?
Hmmm... maybe a tiny bit.

Broken a bone?
You mean, of my own?

Sprained stuff?
Probably.

Had physical therapy?
No.

Gotten stiches?
I don't think so.

Taken painkillers?
No. Well, Advil.

Gone scuba diving or snorkeling?
Snorkled in our little backyard pool - it's fun! But the ocean is scary.

Been stung by a bee?
Yes! My finger swelled to about three times it's normal size. I might be allergic.

Thrown up at the dentist?
No. Eww.

Sworn in front of your parents?
Maybe.

Had detention?
Yep. PE infractions, and once I got caught leaving school, um, during school.

Last movie seen?
At the theater: I have no idea, it's been so long.
On my laptop: "The Answer Man"

Last three people to text you?
Angie, Andrea, Patrick

Last person you called?
FM

Last person you hugged?
My niece Diana

Last person you tackled?
Patrick

Last thing you touched?
Dictionary

Last thing you ate?
Veggie subway sandwich

Last thing you drank?
Diet Coke

Last thing you said:
"Okay! See you Friday, then!"

Were you named after anyone?
Yes, but I didn't know that person.

When was the last time you cried?
Sometime last week. Hey, "The Answer Man" gets kind of touchy-feely.

Do you like your handwriting?
Under specific conditions, yes.

What is your favorite lunch meat?
I have recently foresworn meat of any kind (well, let's be specific: of the animal kind), including that of the sub-category "lunch." However, were this a perfect world where I could eat the meat without killing the animal, I would probably say turkey.

Do you have kids?
Yes. Three cats. Allow me to introduce you to Puma, Dora, and Franny.

If you were another person, would you be friends with you?
This question is all kinds of wrong.

Do you use sarcasm?
Ocasionally, to great comic effect.

(Did you believe me?)

Do you still have your tonsils?
I think so. Lemme check.... yes.

Would you bungee jump?
Yes, but I'd be scared. And then I'd probably want to do it again. But let's don't test this: I'd rather think I'd do it than be faced with it in reality and find out that I'm chicken.

What is your favorite cereal?
"Magic Shapes," aka, fake Lucky Charms. I really just like the groovy wizard guy on the box.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
Sometimes yes, sometimes no.

What is your favorite number?
3. It's the magic number.

What is the first thing you notice about a person?
Them, as a whole. Then the shoes. Then the nose. Then the smile.

Red or pink?
It really depends upon which red and which pink we're talking about, and what the application is going to be. As a rule, probably red. But there are pinks that I like, too.

What is your least favorite thing about yourself?
I'm always smiling at myself in mirrors.

Who do you miss the most?
--

What color pants and shoes are you wearing right now?
Didn't I answer this already? Green-brown, black. I'll leave it to you to figure out which is which.

What are you looking forward to about tomorrow?
Possibly carpooling to Santa Monica. That it's one day closer to Friday.

What are you listening to right now?
Patti Smith, Green Day, Klark Kent

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Beaver. (Shut up. That's a real color.)

Or how about Green Blue?
I like Green Yellow, too.
Hot Magenta is pretty!
Manatee?
Orange Red?
Orchid?

Favorite smells?
Thanksgiving dinner, any kind of anything baking, lavender, the smell of people's clean laundry in the dryer when walking around my neighborhood in the evening; Franny; fresh breath on a guy; Patrick's Axe deoderant

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Wrong number.

Favorite sports to watch?
Cycling, sometimes baseball, figure skating, gymnastics, ultimate fighting with Patrick, most of the Olympics

Hair color?
Darkest brown possible.

Eye color?
Still brown, but thanks for checking up.

Do you wear contacts?
I did, a few times. I look better in glasses.

(No pun intended)

Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings

Last movie you watched?
We saw part of "The 40 Year Old Virgin" the other night.

Favorite food?
Popcorn.
Mexican.
Lobster.
Roast turkey.
Blackberries.
Pomegranates.

What color shirt are you wearing?
You sure are interested in my clothing! Black, black, black.

Summer or winter?
Both.

Hugs or kisses?
Kisses. And keep 'em coming.

What book are you reading right now?
I'm reading two books: the new John Irving novel, and a book about cymbals by a guy with a funny name.

What's on your mouse pad?
My mouse.

What did you watch on TV last night?
Iron Chef America; Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video with my niece and nephew

Favorite sounds?
Franny's purr, an in-tune flute choir, Patrick's drums, certain voicemail messages

Rolling Stones or the Beatles?
The Beatles!!

What is the farthest you've ever been from home?
France; my dreams

Do you have a special talent?
Probably not.

Where were you born?
Santa Monica

Who was your favorite teacher?
Joe Nazzaretta. Middle and High School band.

What's your secret?
To what? My shiny, flowing hair?

What's your biggest goal/dream?
Short term: For Stewart Copeland to come see a show at City Garage and take me out to dinner afterward, and for me to have good hair and not feel too fat at the time.

Long term: To figure out how I feel about not finishing college and either decide to go once and for all and shut up about it or not to go and to stop feeling bad about it.

Or I could just have a kid, right?

(That's a joke, people. Put the phone down.)

Happy new year!

We had a pretty quiet new year's eve - we were going to go to downtown LB and see if we could get close enough to watch that crazy guy Travis Pastrana jump a car from a bridge to a barge, but even though I was lucky enough to get to leave work a little early, I still got home pretty late. Also I'm coughing now and I don't know, we just didn't want to get out in the cold and the crowds and battle all that. So we resigned ourselves to watching it on TV.

It was pretty exciting. That guy is crazy! He made it, of course, though we wondered what would happen if he crashed or failed.

After that, we watched TV and played around with video chatting on our laptops while sitting 3 feet away from each other. Google Talk is pretty cool. Then we ate some bean, rice and cheese burritos and just hung out, listening to music and watching "The 40 Year Old Virgin." I love that movie. We went to bed around 1:30 but I didn't want to go to sleep until I was sure that a friend of mine (who had been sending me drunken, cryptic texts) had a sober ride home. Once I was reassured, we went to bed: I wanted to get up in time for the Rose Parade.

It was a great parade: I made a huge bowl of popcorn (hey, it's never too early for popcorn) and curled up on the couch with a blanket to watch. I loved all the marching bands (the Oregon State Marching Band has cool uniforms!), in particular, the Ohio State School for the Blind Marching Band. They were very good, and great to hear.

When it was over, I switched to the Universal Sports channel. They're showing all the past Iron Man competitions, and it was fun to watch, but I decided I wanted to get on my own bike, too.

So I did.

These are not very flattering photos of me (but my bike looks great), but I'm including them because I need to not be so weird about stuff like that. Also I need to lose 10 pounds and what's better inspiration than these photos?

Patrick went off to buy a cymbal (it has a ridiculous name: Mega Bell Ride!) over in the Naples area of Long Beach and I'm ready to take a shower. I wonder if Target is open today...?