Okay, last installment, I promise. It's not like this is a Flash Gordon serial or something, no one's particularly on the edge of his or her seat waiting for me to...pee. Haha.
It was sleep on Monday night then, to get rid of my icky feelings, and apparently I was cranky, speaking to Eric on the phone that night, so I definitely needed the sleep. Next day I woke up, still tired but a little more refreshed, and decided to go have lunch with Eric in Glendale. Now, that's a drive, but not much more than going to Odessa, for example. But it did require a little knowledge of highways and connections and best ways to go, which Eric supplied me with, and, along with the GPS Penelope Cruise, I managed to make it to the Glendale Galleria quite easily, and in fact, it was a really beautiful drive. As noted way back in part one, Eden got to have some highway time, and it was good for her. She handled it splendidly, and we didn't have to stop much at all for traffic.
So I waited for Eric's lunchtime by looking at stuff in the Glendale Galleria. They had a macy's where I could get in trouble buying Christmas presents for certain people. And a store called MetroPark where I found a $230 or so jacket that I really wanted and in fact, still really do.
But I didn't buy anything. Eric and I went to a Peruvian place for lunch, he being of Peruvian descent, and, because I've been having bad luck with restaurants and what I order, I let him order for me, so I ended up with a meat and potatoes combination, with rice, and an Inca Cola. It was all very good, the beef was excellent quality and I liked the spices. At first I wasn't sure about the meat/potato combo, but, it was yummy. Yummy is a fun work.
So we drove back to the Galleria and I was supposed to get the stuff I brought for Eric but I misunderstood and didn't do it, so we said goodbye and off I went to find Eden in the parking garage. But I have an innate sense of parking garage direction, which I tapped long ago when I worked near Christmas-time at the Fossil store in the Dallas Galleria, and I think I had to park in downtown Dallas (far from the Galleria) but, when the day was done, I managed to find Nemo, my truck at the time. So yesterday I found Eden far more easily than I first thought I would.
I exited the parking garage and was going to reverse engineer, as it were, the directions Eric gave me. But, I went, counter intuitively, in the wrong direction to start, and, decided to let Penelope get me home. Well, Penelope loves to take me through downtown LA, which is almost always a mess. So, we did that, and now I understand why I followed Eric's directions getting there, because downtown is always congested, and it has those fun left, right, right, left, left, left, quick right, quick left, right, quick left exit things going for it. Or, against it. Still, I made it back to Lincoln boulevard, and, in a move that perhaps proves I'm ready to be in LA at last, was texting, checking on an address, entering the new destination in Penelope and yes, driving, and not killing pedestrians. Hooray!
The point of that was to get myself to IKEA, which was my original Tuesday destination, though it was really just an excuse to visit with Eric. Still, I decided, since I was adventuring, to go to IKEA. Penelope got me there just fine, though at first she tried to turn me back to Burbank, until I got the exact address for Carson's IKEA, which is technically closer to the house on Venice, though Burbank's IKEA was probably closer to the place where I entered the address into Penelope. Anyhow, if this is confusing, trust me, yeah it is. Even more so when I explain that Daniel's stern voice, the British personality of Penelope, also ably assisted me in finally getting to IKEA in Carson, although this involved taking the 405 San Diego freeway which is, apparently, always congested and especially at around 4:00 pm when all this was transpiring.
But, I made it to IKEA and was in Wonderland. Claire had warned me to go to IKEA with a plan. She was right. It was way too overwhelming. I got really excited because I could outfit a room with really cool, modern stuff, and for not that much, and be really happy. I could even make this garage room work for me. But, there was too much to process, and I'm still not sure what's going on with living arrangements in the near but not immediate future. So, I just made some mental notes (excellent Christmas present ideas) and wandered about dazed.
And then there was a Target right beside the IKEA! A beautiful Target full of the wonderful and well arranged Target things beloved by me and others! AH! So I bought a new pillow, king size (it was on my list) and a pillow case for it (I'll be damned if pillow cases don't cost more than the pillows!) and that was all. I ate dinner at chili's because, for all the talk of loving new and different things, the fact is sometimes it's nice to be in a relatively familiar place. And at chili's I know I can get a good burger at a decent price, which I did, and it was nice. That doesn't mean I want only chains wherever I go, but I won't pretend that it's not good to go somewhere that makes you feel like you are somewhere you've been before. Not deja vu, but, well, I guess it makes me feel safer, especially since, right now, I'm dealing with this feeling of vulnerability.
After dinner (mushroom Swiss burger) I drove back home to the Venice house, stopping first at Ralph's (grocery store out there) to pick up a couple of items, and when I parked, I patted Eden for doing such a great job (yes, I talk to my car). Traffic was not bad at all on the way back, and I would have made it even without Penelope, which is the eventual goal, of course. It's not unlike driving in Dallas here, the stretches are just a bit longer. So, I will adjust.
Thus my Tuesday was filled with a lot of new things, which probably seem not that new in retrospect, but, this moving thing is definitely not the easiest thing I've done in my life, so, I take the small, medium and large victories.
Oh and, the title of these three posts? Well, the first four numbers are the highways/interstates I took that got me to Glendale (don't take the 5). Then, I took 5 to 10 to craziness on the way back. Easy enough.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
10, 405, 101, 135, not 5, then 5, part 2
Alright so where was I...Monday boarding the plane for Las Vegas. So this plane arrives from somewhere, probably Love Field in Dallas. I forget that this happens when you travel later and not from an originating flight, so, there are not a lot of seats to choose from. However, I find a window seat, right next to the engine, forcing a rather large man to get into the aisle so I can take the seat.
I like window seats. I don't mind the engine. I like to see the mechanical stuff in contrast to the land below (though for this flight it was mostly clouds, then dark). I also love to read all the little warnings and instructions that are stenciled onto the plane. "STAND CLEAR OF EXHAUST" (hmmm...seems obvious but go figure) or "OSCILLATE THE BUSSARD COLLECTOR TO ACHIEVE NOMINAL VARIANCE." I made that one up, but if I remember I'll put it on my designs for the sINjets (see League of Super Saints index).
So I was saying, I didn't have any real problem with this seat. Plus I thought, yeah, I'd get to have space. I wasn't in a talkative mood this flight. I did so well on the way Home to Midland, talking to strangers, even starting up a conversation with the lady in the Vegas airport, so I felt excused from the general company of humanity.
But no. Just as the Flight Attendant is about to close the plane door, a rather large, swarthy, inked, and extremely sweaty man lunges into the plane. He barely made it. And ran a lot. And was dripping with sweat. Guess where he sat? Yeah. In the empty space I was planning on enjoying. He filled the space with great gusto as well. But, not his fault, that he was sweaty. I guess, I mean, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt as to why he was so late.
Anyhow, 2 hours and 20 minutes later, with him coughing all the while, we land in Vegas. The flight was a bit bumpy, I hadn't eaten, and my stomach didn't really know much of what was going on with me. In Las Vegas the guy beside me deplaned. I knew better than to expect my space to remain unoccupied. The further you get from Midland to Los Angeles, the fuller any given plane will be on a stop. I didn't have to deplane at all, and contemplated going to the restroom, but thought, well, I can make it for the 40 minute LA flight. Bad idea.
Meanwhile a lady had lost her purse, so we all spent time looking for it. "Is that your bag?" this helpful woman asks regarding my computer case, as if yes, I were indeed sitting there, trapped in the aluminum tube of an airplane, and in broad planelight was holding this woman's purse under foot, as if I could get away with it. Boris and Natasha I am not. "Yes" I answer, and start looking in my vicinity for the lost purse. They found it somewhere, I think someone else had accidentally picked it up or something. There's no good end to the story because my involvement with it ended early on, since I had not stolen the purse and so wickedly stowed it right under my feet and thus everyone else's nose, so to speak.
I may be exaggerating a bit. I don't know if the "helpful" woman (dark black hair, shoulder length bob, glasses, very white, red lipstick, yellow sweater) really thought my bag was the bag (it's a leather computer case, not a purse, by the way) or not. But I'm thinking now that I thought then that it was true. Because I was in a bit of a bad mood. Also I needed to go pee. Yeah...did I say I made a bad choice on the not going to the bathroom then thing? Wait, wait, don't get ahead of me, I did NOT pee in my pants. Yikes, nothing of the sort. I was just uncomfortable for the remainder of the flight.
Now, no one except we few, we happy (?) boarded from Midland going to LA few, was on the plane at this point. Lots of space. Then the Vegas folks begin to board. Please, let someone cool sit by me, someone attractive even, because I'm shallow that way. But, as the folks filtered in, well, some passengers were, I have to be honest and just say it, in desperate need of some deodorant. The offending party or parties were also very close to me. My stomach turned (no there is no vomit in this tale, it wasn't that bad) but between my bladder and my stomach let's just say it was a very long 40 minute flight. Luckily the fresh air from the vent helped things, but, not much.
I have to pause here and say when I got to LA, and I did get here, because here I am, I started to wonder if I was smelling myself. After all, I had been using some Axe body deodorant, and it doesn't always last long, but it was all I had at Mom and Dad's house. But no, I didn't smell it on the first leg of the flight, and otherwise what I smelled on me was APOLLO, the particular flavor of Axe body spray. (It makes me as sexy as the god Apollo, don't you know.)
Also of note on the flight was this Asian man and his blonde, flowerdy haired girlfriend. They had to sit separately on the plane, and this caused much alarm for them (she was loud and a bit obnoxious). When we were in the air he actually went to the bathroom and she followed suit. They went in together right under the flight attendant's nose, and I thought wow, they're joining the mile high club. But he promptly exited, and then stood at the front of the cabin where you're not supposed to stand because FAA restrictions prevent any passengers from congregating at the front of the plane (protect and survive). But the flight attendant caught this and told him about the rule, and then announced it to the whole plane.
So...he stepped a couple of steps back and waited there, still too close to the flight deck in my opinion. But when his girlfriend came out (ok, I assume that's what she was, I don't know for sure) then he went back into the restroom while she went back to occupy his seat. So I have no idea what they were truly up to, but I suspect drugs were involved. Perhaps I should have alerted the flight attendants, but, if I'm no Boris and Natasha, I am also no Inspector Clousseau.
So, after the longest, smelliest, drug/sex infested(est) (conjecture) 40 minute flight of my life (so far) we landed at LAX, my bladder full and acting very much like those animated bladder type things we see on TV, for bladder control medicines. Stomach was still turning. Of course, at LAX, when you land, it takes another bit of time to drive to the gate where you need to be. It's the whole, 1 hour, gate to gate thing the Captain tells you about early on in the flight, when you still think it might have been wise to save going to the bathroom until you were on the ground. (Again, a mistake!) But at least on the ground you know you will get somewhere at LAX, and that there are restrooms, so I just stared back at the lines of planes, all at different levels, headed for the same runway. It's an amazing thing, all the planes stacked and scurrying to get out of the way for the next plane that's landing in the exact same spot.
Eventually we found our gate. Then of course, deplaning is another thing, waiting for everyone to squeeze out, and getting one last whiff of the body odor from...wherever. But hooray, when I was able to walk I felt a little better, and found the first restroom, and the first available stall, and peed for like, 30 minutes, because of course after I waited to pee so long, I could no longer pee all at once. The human body is an amazing and totally confounding thing.
After that 30 minutes I then called my Mom to tell her I was on the ground, and proceeded to find a taxi. I found one, and told him where to go, and he said "how do I get there?" Lucky for him I wasn't a newbie from Texas just off the plane, but, had 2 weeks worth of LA time under my belt buckle. So I told him to how to get me home, and updated him along the way, and told him where to turn, and where to stop. I also still tipped him, even though I put way too much thought into the whole process of paying someone else to use my limited knowledge of the streets to get me back to Venice, CA.
But he dropped me off and I got home and ate some oatmeal when my stomach settled down. Then before too long I went to bed and crashed (bad word choice, but I'm on the ground).
Looks like I better cut this off and save the rest for part 3. Stay tuned!
I like window seats. I don't mind the engine. I like to see the mechanical stuff in contrast to the land below (though for this flight it was mostly clouds, then dark). I also love to read all the little warnings and instructions that are stenciled onto the plane. "STAND CLEAR OF EXHAUST" (hmmm...seems obvious but go figure) or "OSCILLATE THE BUSSARD COLLECTOR TO ACHIEVE NOMINAL VARIANCE." I made that one up, but if I remember I'll put it on my designs for the sINjets (see League of Super Saints index).
So I was saying, I didn't have any real problem with this seat. Plus I thought, yeah, I'd get to have space. I wasn't in a talkative mood this flight. I did so well on the way Home to Midland, talking to strangers, even starting up a conversation with the lady in the Vegas airport, so I felt excused from the general company of humanity.
But no. Just as the Flight Attendant is about to close the plane door, a rather large, swarthy, inked, and extremely sweaty man lunges into the plane. He barely made it. And ran a lot. And was dripping with sweat. Guess where he sat? Yeah. In the empty space I was planning on enjoying. He filled the space with great gusto as well. But, not his fault, that he was sweaty. I guess, I mean, I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt as to why he was so late.
Anyhow, 2 hours and 20 minutes later, with him coughing all the while, we land in Vegas. The flight was a bit bumpy, I hadn't eaten, and my stomach didn't really know much of what was going on with me. In Las Vegas the guy beside me deplaned. I knew better than to expect my space to remain unoccupied. The further you get from Midland to Los Angeles, the fuller any given plane will be on a stop. I didn't have to deplane at all, and contemplated going to the restroom, but thought, well, I can make it for the 40 minute LA flight. Bad idea.
Meanwhile a lady had lost her purse, so we all spent time looking for it. "Is that your bag?" this helpful woman asks regarding my computer case, as if yes, I were indeed sitting there, trapped in the aluminum tube of an airplane, and in broad planelight was holding this woman's purse under foot, as if I could get away with it. Boris and Natasha I am not. "Yes" I answer, and start looking in my vicinity for the lost purse. They found it somewhere, I think someone else had accidentally picked it up or something. There's no good end to the story because my involvement with it ended early on, since I had not stolen the purse and so wickedly stowed it right under my feet and thus everyone else's nose, so to speak.
I may be exaggerating a bit. I don't know if the "helpful" woman (dark black hair, shoulder length bob, glasses, very white, red lipstick, yellow sweater) really thought my bag was the bag (it's a leather computer case, not a purse, by the way) or not. But I'm thinking now that I thought then that it was true. Because I was in a bit of a bad mood. Also I needed to go pee. Yeah...did I say I made a bad choice on the not going to the bathroom then thing? Wait, wait, don't get ahead of me, I did NOT pee in my pants. Yikes, nothing of the sort. I was just uncomfortable for the remainder of the flight.
Now, no one except we few, we happy (?) boarded from Midland going to LA few, was on the plane at this point. Lots of space. Then the Vegas folks begin to board. Please, let someone cool sit by me, someone attractive even, because I'm shallow that way. But, as the folks filtered in, well, some passengers were, I have to be honest and just say it, in desperate need of some deodorant. The offending party or parties were also very close to me. My stomach turned (no there is no vomit in this tale, it wasn't that bad) but between my bladder and my stomach let's just say it was a very long 40 minute flight. Luckily the fresh air from the vent helped things, but, not much.
I have to pause here and say when I got to LA, and I did get here, because here I am, I started to wonder if I was smelling myself. After all, I had been using some Axe body deodorant, and it doesn't always last long, but it was all I had at Mom and Dad's house. But no, I didn't smell it on the first leg of the flight, and otherwise what I smelled on me was APOLLO, the particular flavor of Axe body spray. (It makes me as sexy as the god Apollo, don't you know.)
Also of note on the flight was this Asian man and his blonde, flowerdy haired girlfriend. They had to sit separately on the plane, and this caused much alarm for them (she was loud and a bit obnoxious). When we were in the air he actually went to the bathroom and she followed suit. They went in together right under the flight attendant's nose, and I thought wow, they're joining the mile high club. But he promptly exited, and then stood at the front of the cabin where you're not supposed to stand because FAA restrictions prevent any passengers from congregating at the front of the plane (protect and survive). But the flight attendant caught this and told him about the rule, and then announced it to the whole plane.
So...he stepped a couple of steps back and waited there, still too close to the flight deck in my opinion. But when his girlfriend came out (ok, I assume that's what she was, I don't know for sure) then he went back into the restroom while she went back to occupy his seat. So I have no idea what they were truly up to, but I suspect drugs were involved. Perhaps I should have alerted the flight attendants, but, if I'm no Boris and Natasha, I am also no Inspector Clousseau.
So, after the longest, smelliest, drug/sex infested(est) (conjecture) 40 minute flight of my life (so far) we landed at LAX, my bladder full and acting very much like those animated bladder type things we see on TV, for bladder control medicines. Stomach was still turning. Of course, at LAX, when you land, it takes another bit of time to drive to the gate where you need to be. It's the whole, 1 hour, gate to gate thing the Captain tells you about early on in the flight, when you still think it might have been wise to save going to the bathroom until you were on the ground. (Again, a mistake!) But at least on the ground you know you will get somewhere at LAX, and that there are restrooms, so I just stared back at the lines of planes, all at different levels, headed for the same runway. It's an amazing thing, all the planes stacked and scurrying to get out of the way for the next plane that's landing in the exact same spot.
Eventually we found our gate. Then of course, deplaning is another thing, waiting for everyone to squeeze out, and getting one last whiff of the body odor from...wherever. But hooray, when I was able to walk I felt a little better, and found the first restroom, and the first available stall, and peed for like, 30 minutes, because of course after I waited to pee so long, I could no longer pee all at once. The human body is an amazing and totally confounding thing.
After that 30 minutes I then called my Mom to tell her I was on the ground, and proceeded to find a taxi. I found one, and told him where to go, and he said "how do I get there?" Lucky for him I wasn't a newbie from Texas just off the plane, but, had 2 weeks worth of LA time under my belt buckle. So I told him to how to get me home, and updated him along the way, and told him where to turn, and where to stop. I also still tipped him, even though I put way too much thought into the whole process of paying someone else to use my limited knowledge of the streets to get me back to Venice, CA.
But he dropped me off and I got home and ate some oatmeal when my stomach settled down. Then before too long I went to bed and crashed (bad word choice, but I'm on the ground).
Looks like I better cut this off and save the rest for part 3. Stay tuned!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
10, 405, 101, 135, not 5, then 5, part 1
If you've ever been to Los Angeles, you'll likely be able to decode the stuff on my title. Today was a day of exploration. I finally took my baby girl, Eden, out on the highway. She hasn't been out of city stop and go traffic since she moved here. Every day I look at her and apologize. It's just that I want to keep her safe. Since I often feel vulnerable here, I think she must feel that way, too. But she's a car, she's meant to stretch her legs on the the open road. She's a muscle car, in fact, and just driving a few blocks to the grocery store, or a few miles down the regular roads, is not her life. So, today I took her to Glendale (by and around Pasadena) and then down to Carson, finally, to the IKEA.
More on all that later, but, I really need to go back to Thanksgiving week and my return here, which is home but not yet Home, and as noted earlier, I'm working on that bit.
Anyhow, so Thanksgiving was, overall, really good this year. I got to meet up with almost everyone I wanted to see, though didn't get to see a few for various reasons, mostly the weather. Yes, it snowed Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Luckily not Monday, or else my flight might have been affected. This fact was good for me, not so good for my niece and nephews who go to school. Had it been icy/snowy, they wouldn't have gone to school, but, alas they did. I remember those days and why snow was so much "fun" then, yay, unexpected day off from school. But these days I can't say I'm in love with it, and the cold, hanging around for that long.
Still, Thanksgiving was great with my family, even if dinner out on Tuesday night was a production beyond the usual. For you see, a certain nephew, who will remain nameless, but had a bird themed cake, apparently threw a bit of a fit which involved, much to his surprise, punching his hand through the window at his house. We are all over it, and thankfully he was not hurt except for a minor scratch, but it did result in a late arrival for that part of my family, and otherwise a bit of a sober tone in all the kids. But it was great to see them, and Bram has now earned the name Fist Through Glass. I think it was all over a pair of Wrangler jeans, too.
The rest of the Holiday passed with the usual stuffing, both the edible kind and the fact that we all stuffed ourselves. Every Thanksgiving very nearly centers around my Nene's stuffing recipe anyhow. It's a perfect cornbread dressing, and I get to taste test for accuracy every year, well, since Nene died. No taste test was needed with her, she just knew how it should be. When she left us, we worried about Thanksgiving dressing without her, but, Mom picked up pretty quick and my judgement is usually pretty sound. The only potential wobble this year was salt, I kept tasting it and telling Mom it needed salt, odd for me because I do not usually request salt on things. Turns out the chicken broth was the low sodium variety, so there was the missing salt and the explanation. In any event it turned out perfectly. We were at the table eating and Madeleine didn't want any of the dressing and gravy. I turned to her and said "you don't want any stuffing, it's your recipe?" I say this because my sister, my Mom, and indeed, most of us in the family, are convinced Madeleine is Nene sent right back down to us.
I have to pause for a moment and note that Figaro, my Chewbacca, that mass of black curls and eternally youthful energy, standard poodle, died over a year ago just before Thanksgiving. Truth be told, he kept me in Midland longer. I knew I could never leave him behind, and couldn't take him with me to make him get accustomed to a new place. We all miss him so much, but he had the best life ever, example to me, as Dolly would sing, that "you better get to livin'" (and when is her new album out?).
I met up with Earl and Rice on Wednesday at Starbucks, so we had a chance to talk then. The following Friday I met up with the entire Starbucks gang. I got to see Sarah's sketchbook, brimming with new stuff since October, and always stunning. David, Keith, Becky and I talked about avocados. I will leave it at that because we were reprimanded (mostly David and I) for laughing and being merry. I had gone without a shot of David, Keith and Becky for two whole weeks, and I don't know when I will be back to have fun with them again. Hell, everyone knows if you get me around caffeine and David, I will laugh my arse off and then some. Thank goodness he wasn't drinking (oh wait, that was later, at Jorge's, and we got in trouble).
I am not exactly in the easiest place in my life right now. Granted I have saved some money so I can find my footing better than most, but I know very few people here and even fewer of those would I trust when in need. I'm 1,200 miles from everything I've known and loved, so, know what, I can be a little selfish and ask for help from the people back home who Love me (big L). All I'm saying is that the embrace of laughter works better than wallowing in despair. It's taken me a long time to learn that, but, it helps just to say that I will be fine and dandy, so I'm holding fast to my "Hard Candy Christmas" theme from last year and yes, I made two count 'em two references to Dolly Parton.
The snow kept me from seeing Deborah and Ester, because Odessa is much further away when you are not sure the roads will permit you to pass. I am sad about that, but, we will catch up sometime. Deborah promises she has a Southwest freebie ticket (frequent flyer miles) that's reserved for visiting me here in LA, so, she better know that I'm holding her to it. Ester I get to talk to online often enough, if she's not idle, and it's too bad she can't control herself on the webcam. Haha. ;) I don't actually know if she reads this or not, but I love to tease her.
Despite not seeing those friends, the Holiday break still energized me. I got to see Amy at Barnes and Noble twice, once with Meghan, and since David and Keith and Dan were there, they all got to to meet each other, finally, because it seems I can never connect Amy with my other circle of friends. But it worked this time and we had a great conversation and everyone liked everyone else. I also got to see Amy on Sunday, so that was great. I teased her about her Devil hoodie and also about being in LA. She's my favorite person to talk to on the phone when I'm on the beach because I tell her "you hear that, it's the ocean" and she usually responds "I was pretending it was something else." I do this because Amy lived in LA for 6 months or more (now I forget what she said) and also because, in my heart, I really wish she was here to be part of my LA experience, because we get along together so well.
Okay...it's possible that I'm being sappy but I don't care.
I even ran into Misty at Barnes and Noble as well. Seems we always run into each other there, so it was nice, nice, in a good nice way. Everything sort of changes and stays the same all at once.
Now on Monday I left at 5:30 PM, which was not the best planning, because now I realize if I leave so late in the day, the day's pretty much just spent waiting. But it was waiting with Mom, so, treasured waiting. I love my whole family so deeply, but, Mom is closest to me because she's one of the main reasons I react to beautiful things as I do. So, it's really hard to watch her drive off in Rowdy, the big red Ford truck, as I walk into the air terminal. But, it's easier than having her sit there in the terminal and progressively get more nervous about my departure, making me more nervous.
Also in the Monday mix, Dad and Simon got back from the ranch having found themselves snowed in on Sunday. They produced a videotape which documents the weather and the nature of their being stuck, so, I guess they are off the hook. Dad comes home whispering to Mom "when does he leave" "does he know he can come back if he's not happy" and such things, which, in that whispered way, makes me know I'm well loved, even if he and I don't always, or often, see eye to eye.
Thus went the Monday, slow and fast waiting. Mom dropped me off at about 4:00 and I made my way through security...I think the guy asked me if it was okay if he tested my laptop, while I was thinking, why is he asking me, it's his job, I can't really say no, can I? Haha.
Anyhow, so I sat at the desolate gate, because Midland's airport is much like Midland, lots of space and mildly empty. Eventually it filled up and, around 5:00 or so, we lined up to get on the plane. I'll end this post with that, and Part 2 will continue the flight and the return.
More on all that later, but, I really need to go back to Thanksgiving week and my return here, which is home but not yet Home, and as noted earlier, I'm working on that bit.
Anyhow, so Thanksgiving was, overall, really good this year. I got to meet up with almost everyone I wanted to see, though didn't get to see a few for various reasons, mostly the weather. Yes, it snowed Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Luckily not Monday, or else my flight might have been affected. This fact was good for me, not so good for my niece and nephews who go to school. Had it been icy/snowy, they wouldn't have gone to school, but, alas they did. I remember those days and why snow was so much "fun" then, yay, unexpected day off from school. But these days I can't say I'm in love with it, and the cold, hanging around for that long.
Still, Thanksgiving was great with my family, even if dinner out on Tuesday night was a production beyond the usual. For you see, a certain nephew, who will remain nameless, but had a bird themed cake, apparently threw a bit of a fit which involved, much to his surprise, punching his hand through the window at his house. We are all over it, and thankfully he was not hurt except for a minor scratch, but it did result in a late arrival for that part of my family, and otherwise a bit of a sober tone in all the kids. But it was great to see them, and Bram has now earned the name Fist Through Glass. I think it was all over a pair of Wrangler jeans, too.
The rest of the Holiday passed with the usual stuffing, both the edible kind and the fact that we all stuffed ourselves. Every Thanksgiving very nearly centers around my Nene's stuffing recipe anyhow. It's a perfect cornbread dressing, and I get to taste test for accuracy every year, well, since Nene died. No taste test was needed with her, she just knew how it should be. When she left us, we worried about Thanksgiving dressing without her, but, Mom picked up pretty quick and my judgement is usually pretty sound. The only potential wobble this year was salt, I kept tasting it and telling Mom it needed salt, odd for me because I do not usually request salt on things. Turns out the chicken broth was the low sodium variety, so there was the missing salt and the explanation. In any event it turned out perfectly. We were at the table eating and Madeleine didn't want any of the dressing and gravy. I turned to her and said "you don't want any stuffing, it's your recipe?" I say this because my sister, my Mom, and indeed, most of us in the family, are convinced Madeleine is Nene sent right back down to us.
I have to pause for a moment and note that Figaro, my Chewbacca, that mass of black curls and eternally youthful energy, standard poodle, died over a year ago just before Thanksgiving. Truth be told, he kept me in Midland longer. I knew I could never leave him behind, and couldn't take him with me to make him get accustomed to a new place. We all miss him so much, but he had the best life ever, example to me, as Dolly would sing, that "you better get to livin'" (and when is her new album out?).
I met up with Earl and Rice on Wednesday at Starbucks, so we had a chance to talk then. The following Friday I met up with the entire Starbucks gang. I got to see Sarah's sketchbook, brimming with new stuff since October, and always stunning. David, Keith, Becky and I talked about avocados. I will leave it at that because we were reprimanded (mostly David and I) for laughing and being merry. I had gone without a shot of David, Keith and Becky for two whole weeks, and I don't know when I will be back to have fun with them again. Hell, everyone knows if you get me around caffeine and David, I will laugh my arse off and then some. Thank goodness he wasn't drinking (oh wait, that was later, at Jorge's, and we got in trouble).
I am not exactly in the easiest place in my life right now. Granted I have saved some money so I can find my footing better than most, but I know very few people here and even fewer of those would I trust when in need. I'm 1,200 miles from everything I've known and loved, so, know what, I can be a little selfish and ask for help from the people back home who Love me (big L). All I'm saying is that the embrace of laughter works better than wallowing in despair. It's taken me a long time to learn that, but, it helps just to say that I will be fine and dandy, so I'm holding fast to my "Hard Candy Christmas" theme from last year and yes, I made two count 'em two references to Dolly Parton.
The snow kept me from seeing Deborah and Ester, because Odessa is much further away when you are not sure the roads will permit you to pass. I am sad about that, but, we will catch up sometime. Deborah promises she has a Southwest freebie ticket (frequent flyer miles) that's reserved for visiting me here in LA, so, she better know that I'm holding her to it. Ester I get to talk to online often enough, if she's not idle, and it's too bad she can't control herself on the webcam. Haha. ;) I don't actually know if she reads this or not, but I love to tease her.
Despite not seeing those friends, the Holiday break still energized me. I got to see Amy at Barnes and Noble twice, once with Meghan, and since David and Keith and Dan were there, they all got to to meet each other, finally, because it seems I can never connect Amy with my other circle of friends. But it worked this time and we had a great conversation and everyone liked everyone else. I also got to see Amy on Sunday, so that was great. I teased her about her Devil hoodie and also about being in LA. She's my favorite person to talk to on the phone when I'm on the beach because I tell her "you hear that, it's the ocean" and she usually responds "I was pretending it was something else." I do this because Amy lived in LA for 6 months or more (now I forget what she said) and also because, in my heart, I really wish she was here to be part of my LA experience, because we get along together so well.
Okay...it's possible that I'm being sappy but I don't care.
I even ran into Misty at Barnes and Noble as well. Seems we always run into each other there, so it was nice, nice, in a good nice way. Everything sort of changes and stays the same all at once.
Now on Monday I left at 5:30 PM, which was not the best planning, because now I realize if I leave so late in the day, the day's pretty much just spent waiting. But it was waiting with Mom, so, treasured waiting. I love my whole family so deeply, but, Mom is closest to me because she's one of the main reasons I react to beautiful things as I do. So, it's really hard to watch her drive off in Rowdy, the big red Ford truck, as I walk into the air terminal. But, it's easier than having her sit there in the terminal and progressively get more nervous about my departure, making me more nervous.
Also in the Monday mix, Dad and Simon got back from the ranch having found themselves snowed in on Sunday. They produced a videotape which documents the weather and the nature of their being stuck, so, I guess they are off the hook. Dad comes home whispering to Mom "when does he leave" "does he know he can come back if he's not happy" and such things, which, in that whispered way, makes me know I'm well loved, even if he and I don't always, or often, see eye to eye.
Thus went the Monday, slow and fast waiting. Mom dropped me off at about 4:00 and I made my way through security...I think the guy asked me if it was okay if he tested my laptop, while I was thinking, why is he asking me, it's his job, I can't really say no, can I? Haha.
Anyhow, so I sat at the desolate gate, because Midland's airport is much like Midland, lots of space and mildly empty. Eventually it filled up and, around 5:00 or so, we lined up to get on the plane. I'll end this post with that, and Part 2 will continue the flight and the return.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Home and Home
I have been in Midland for the Holidays. Home in Midland. Tomorrow I fly home to LA, and I haven't quite reconciled the two homes. But I feel energized, and ready to continue building my life elsewhere. I even think I might accidentally have a good start on this new life thing.
Knock on wood.
I'm on the iphone so it limits my eloquence if you will, so bear with me. I've learned some stuff about myself and when I can sit and process I will share. In the meantime, it has, overall been a great Thanksgiving. I'm always thankful for my family, and the friends I have here now. They make it hard to leave even as they'd all kick my arse if I stayed!
Anyhow...back in LA at 7:30 tomorrow. Check later for further thoughts.
Knock on wood.
I'm on the iphone so it limits my eloquence if you will, so bear with me. I've learned some stuff about myself and when I can sit and process I will share. In the meantime, it has, overall been a great Thanksgiving. I'm always thankful for my family, and the friends I have here now. They make it hard to leave even as they'd all kick my arse if I stayed!
Anyhow...back in LA at 7:30 tomorrow. Check later for further thoughts.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Cross Post Stitching and a Tease
Well, here's another video in Ricë's great new start on YouTube. While I miss the uncontrollable laughter, this one's a little more concise, quite helpful, and we get a guest star, a very svelte, trim guest star he is, too.
Also, I'm thinking about a new idea for a contest. It won't require any drawing, sketching, photo bucketing, or any such thing. It would require just typing or writing some thoughts, and the assumption that you know a little bit about the League of Super Saints.
But I don't know if I want to do it or not. So I'm just teasing here to see what happens.
Also, I'm thinking about a new idea for a contest. It won't require any drawing, sketching, photo bucketing, or any such thing. It would require just typing or writing some thoughts, and the assumption that you know a little bit about the League of Super Saints.
But I don't know if I want to do it or not. So I'm just teasing here to see what happens.
Catching Up
So, yesterday the weather took a cloudy, chilly turn, no sun, but, all in all I dealt with it pretty well. Probably because, after four days of glorious sun and warmth, I do remember how beautiful it is here. The ocean just stuns me every time.
Now I'm waiting for someone to arrive and we're going out for a bit, so I thought I would upload some overdue photos, which I have promised (likely) more than a month ago. Since I'm playing hard and fast with linear time anyhow, just pretend they're all exactly where they should be temporally, in a specific post.
First up is the birthday cake I decorated for Bram this year (pre-Halloween). Bram was supposed to be an Edgar Allen Poe type, dark and mysterious baby, (it was my concept for him) but when he met the world it was with the lightest blond hair of all the kiddos, and blue eyes. Never mind, there is a demon that waits within the fair haired child. For that reason, and since his birthday is so close to Halloween, we do scary themes for him, and this year's choice was based on Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
Here's what I did with the theme, cake wise:
At last I get around to posting the fantastic Love Gun Becky made for me, the one I mentioned with the extra blue heart for bluebird to give away to someone. I brought this with me to LA and it's on the platform bed right beside me as I sleep, with Binky (ah! have to get some shots of Binky!) and other items close to my heart.
The hearts fit down in the barrel. Not only is it such a cool thing, I mean, it's knitted, I just love the play on expectations, but Becky personalized it for me and it really has extra deep meaning for me for that reason.
Finally, here's my LA pal Benny, asleep on the bed in my room. He's such a sweetie and really smart. Rachel (his mom, my roommate) puts him out in the morning and if I'm a lazy bum and still in bed he wanders over to the garage door, where he always hangs out apparently, basking in the sun, but now he knows to whine a bit at me, and make me feel bad for not opening the garage door and letting him in. 
There he is, just snoozing away.
Now I'm waiting for someone to arrive and we're going out for a bit, so I thought I would upload some overdue photos, which I have promised (likely) more than a month ago. Since I'm playing hard and fast with linear time anyhow, just pretend they're all exactly where they should be temporally, in a specific post.
First up is the birthday cake I decorated for Bram this year (pre-Halloween). Bram was supposed to be an Edgar Allen Poe type, dark and mysterious baby, (it was my concept for him) but when he met the world it was with the lightest blond hair of all the kiddos, and blue eyes. Never mind, there is a demon that waits within the fair haired child. For that reason, and since his birthday is so close to Halloween, we do scary themes for him, and this year's choice was based on Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
Here's what I did with the theme, cake wise:
The next photos are from my room before I left for California. I took a couple of quick shots of the "mess" (little bits of cut out paper, dolls, etc.) from the Genesis of Darwin 665's paper doll form. That's Isaac, a Living Dead Doll scarecrow, sitting in the decorator's chair (which I found in miniature, but would love to have full sized) and watching over things.
At last I get around to posting the fantastic Love Gun Becky made for me, the one I mentioned with the extra blue heart for bluebird to give away to someone. I brought this with me to LA and it's on the platform bed right beside me as I sleep, with Binky (ah! have to get some shots of Binky!) and other items close to my heart.
The hearts fit down in the barrel. Not only is it such a cool thing, I mean, it's knitted, I just love the play on expectations, but Becky personalized it for me and it really has extra deep meaning for me for that reason.
Finally, here's my LA pal Benny, asleep on the bed in my room. He's such a sweetie and really smart. Rachel (his mom, my roommate) puts him out in the morning and if I'm a lazy bum and still in bed he wanders over to the garage door, where he always hangs out apparently, basking in the sun, but now he knows to whine a bit at me, and make me feel bad for not opening the garage door and letting him in. 
There he is, just snoozing away.
So, just some photo catch up before I head out on the town.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sometimes it's a Smile
General update: the weather is gorgeous. I went for lunch and then decided to hit the beach again yesterday. While I'm working on finding my niche, I might as well, since I can, take advantage of the beauty around me. So I went to the water's edge (that's a song right?) and the waves were active, and I wound up walking from Venice Beach to the Santa Monica Pier, where I dawdled about some and did a little exercise, checked out the Pier. I still haven't been on the Pacific Wheel yet. I'm hoping for the right moment. Maybe at night.
I got more than my fair share of exercise no doubt. After all, when you walk one way, you typically (unless you get a cab, $$$) have to walk the other way. But there's so much to see. People on one side, ocean waves with people in the water (sometimes) on the other (the water is mighty chilly, but it was warm, and I'd probably dive in the water myself, so they're not insane, unless I'm insane, which is possible).
Now, because Claire (fabulous roommate from Calgary) said something about men in Speedos, and not wanting to see that, now I have to report back to her on my Speedo Spying. Yesterday the number was three. One guy was wearing a red Speedo and it looked like he could pull it off at least, in shape, but he was smoking a cigarette. Go figure. That was on the way to the Pier. On the way back, there was a guy, probably German, maybe Italian, who didn't need to be wearing a Speedo, as his belly was overhanging into Arizona. Finally there was a purple Speedo, and this guy had long curly Romance novel cover type hair, and I thought he must have been Greek or Italian (note how I'm trying to blame it on the Europeans) but he didn't sound foreign when he was talking to his family. His Speedo was ill fitting, baggy. So I figure the rule is, if you're gonna try to pull off the look, and maybe you can, make sure you get one that fits well at least.
That's the Speedo report. Haha.
Later I went to Staples. I was going to walk, as I've been doing, because it's really not a far walk, but after the Santa Monica Pier jog, and because it was close to dinner, I drove. Which, in a sense, probably takes longer than walking but expends less energy. So I waited in line for the employees to get what I needed from the back and then waited for a person to check me out. This gorgeous black woman with dreadlocks emerged, manager type, and kind of gruffly looked at me, saying "were you being helped" and I told her the guy said to wait here for check out, then I smiled and I think I twinkled my blue eyes, because that can be affective and effective here, and she shot back a great smile. It wasn't a big deal, but, it made my night, because, in this city that never sleeps (haha, I think that's New York, and the start of a movie, but I'm stealing it) you have to give and grab back the little moments like that.
I'm working on something else, too, but I don't want to say anything and possibly jinx it. Because I'm superstitious that way.
Now, because it made me laugh so much, and made me miss her, too, I'm going to post this little YouTube ditty for your pleasure:
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.
Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed.
People yakkity yak a streak and waste your time of day
But Mister Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And this one'll talk 'til his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well listen to this. I am Mister Ed.
("Mister Ed" by Ray Evans and Jay Livingston)
Folks, that's the fabulous Rice (two dots over the e, can't do it on my laptop for some reason) teaching you how to heat-set, and cracking herself up, and if you're like me, it's cracking you up, too. The voice, James Earl Jones-esque behind the camera, is the Ever Gorgeous Earl, who is perhaps the only person on the planet who could film this woman doing this and not crack up with laughter, and that, gang, is LOVE!
I got more than my fair share of exercise no doubt. After all, when you walk one way, you typically (unless you get a cab, $$$) have to walk the other way. But there's so much to see. People on one side, ocean waves with people in the water (sometimes) on the other (the water is mighty chilly, but it was warm, and I'd probably dive in the water myself, so they're not insane, unless I'm insane, which is possible).
Now, because Claire (fabulous roommate from Calgary) said something about men in Speedos, and not wanting to see that, now I have to report back to her on my Speedo Spying. Yesterday the number was three. One guy was wearing a red Speedo and it looked like he could pull it off at least, in shape, but he was smoking a cigarette. Go figure. That was on the way to the Pier. On the way back, there was a guy, probably German, maybe Italian, who didn't need to be wearing a Speedo, as his belly was overhanging into Arizona. Finally there was a purple Speedo, and this guy had long curly Romance novel cover type hair, and I thought he must have been Greek or Italian (note how I'm trying to blame it on the Europeans) but he didn't sound foreign when he was talking to his family. His Speedo was ill fitting, baggy. So I figure the rule is, if you're gonna try to pull off the look, and maybe you can, make sure you get one that fits well at least.
That's the Speedo report. Haha.
Later I went to Staples. I was going to walk, as I've been doing, because it's really not a far walk, but after the Santa Monica Pier jog, and because it was close to dinner, I drove. Which, in a sense, probably takes longer than walking but expends less energy. So I waited in line for the employees to get what I needed from the back and then waited for a person to check me out. This gorgeous black woman with dreadlocks emerged, manager type, and kind of gruffly looked at me, saying "were you being helped" and I told her the guy said to wait here for check out, then I smiled and I think I twinkled my blue eyes, because that can be affective and effective here, and she shot back a great smile. It wasn't a big deal, but, it made my night, because, in this city that never sleeps (haha, I think that's New York, and the start of a movie, but I'm stealing it) you have to give and grab back the little moments like that.
I'm working on something else, too, but I don't want to say anything and possibly jinx it. Because I'm superstitious that way.
Now, because it made me laugh so much, and made me miss her, too, I'm going to post this little YouTube ditty for your pleasure:
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.
Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed.
People yakkity yak a streak and waste your time of day
But Mister Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And this one'll talk 'til his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well listen to this. I am Mister Ed.
("Mister Ed" by Ray Evans and Jay Livingston)
Folks, that's the fabulous Rice (two dots over the e, can't do it on my laptop for some reason) teaching you how to heat-set, and cracking herself up, and if you're like me, it's cracking you up, too. The voice, James Earl Jones-esque behind the camera, is the Ever Gorgeous Earl, who is perhaps the only person on the planet who could film this woman doing this and not crack up with laughter, and that, gang, is LOVE!
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