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Blue

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I was the first democrat in my family. Now, we outnumber the familial republicans.

It’s harder than ever now for me to discuss politics with my relatives. They think I am as ignorant as I think they are. There is no middle ground.

I am spiritual.

But I am not religious. I was baptized. I went through confirmation. I even became a born again christian for a minute when we moved to another state when I was high school, while I tried to find my footing. It didn’t last. The Christianity, I mean. My footing got stronger.

I am not here to say that if you’re a Christian, you are bad. Everyone should believe in something. Something that moves them to be better. To give them peace.

But if you’re a Christian and voted for Trump AND still double down on everything and I mean EVERYTHING that has happened since he has taken office, I can’t respect what you believe anymore when you talk about your faith.

Also, you might want to look at your Christian values at this point.

Kids coming home from a first day of Kindergarten to find their parents have been deported; a 13 year old boy being slammed into the ground by a 39 year old man who felt disrespected by the boy not removing his hat during the national anthem; families separated at the border just for seeking asylum; police walking a black man through town with a rope just because he “loitered” near a building; 3 mass shootings; I repeat THREE MASS SHOOTINGS; Mitch McConnell holding up gun legislation because he is compromised; a news channel letting one of their anchors say there is no white supremacy; all the news about global warming coming sooner than they thought,..people…this all happened in the past two weeks.

We are exhausted. We are mad. We are so distracted by in-fighting during these political democratic debates we aren’t seeing the game we may lose.

Those of us who voted blue knew on that fateful night in 2016, that this was not going to be good. That the stakes were high for what could be lost. That it was going to be terrible.

But you know what? It’s worse. Even when we think we have hit bottom, these times are proving that the bottom has no end. We keep going deeper. If we are exhausted and mad, we must instead stay focused. Not give in to the distractions. Not give in to the hopelessness. Not eat our way or drink our way out of this “presidency” to quell the fatigue and the sadness.

We must vote in a way that is for our humanity.

I didn’t want to talk about this. Not here. Not on a site called PopPeacock which is about my day to day life and my musings. I love so much about life. And people. And other cultures and languages. I love how kind we can be to one another. How love is really stronger than hate. That light conquers darkness. But we are stuck on a hamster wheel at the moment.

We gotta be better than this if we want to live better than this.

If we want to see a tomorrow filled with more tolerance, more love, more kindness, more earth for your children, more resources for the future, do what you can today to start.

Meditate, be kind to those you love and also those you don’t know, call your congresspeople, peacefully protest, volunteer, make your voice heard in your creativity and for fuck’s sake…VOTE for the world and the values that will change this narrative. Not just for president, but on the smaller elections too. Every step matters on this ladder.

“Blue is the only color which maintains its own character in all its tones” ~ Raoul Dufy (French painter)

Let’s maintain our character while expressing all our tones.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fall Out Boys – Spoiled Victory (Damon II)

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Too many compliments.
Too much wine.
You’re fine.
It’s time you looked at the facts

Use the lines.
Who cares?
Ego needs feeding.
Maybe bad breeding.
Maybe just insecurity.

What keeps you talking?
You’re mocking
All that is sacred to me.
Women are tests.
A playground of breasts.

You’re full of gifts
And that’s not bad.
But gift in German means poison.
You think there’s truth to be had?
Wait, am I one of your chosen?

What are your plans?
Designs – You know?
Your scams – refined and then, Oh No –
You return to me.

That smile.
Your smile, when I guess your agenda
In light of the truth, I’d prefer to be rendered
Powerless – yes.
I can guess – but don’t say I’d like to be right.
I wouldn’t, you know – it’s a talent, I guess.
One I’d surrender
To be wrong of your gender.
To have one night
And that not be all
Cause you’re my test too and I think I will fall.

But you’ll never know that.
I’ll play your game. I’ll be the same
As you.
For a time
Until it’s too much.
It might be as such that I am losing my buffer with you.

You want to play hero.
Bring me from zero.
Prove that you’re more than you seem.

Although that defines you,
It’s meant to confine you.
Yes, I too, deal well with schemes.

So for the time being
Unless what I am seeing
Is not what you want me to see.

I will walk the tightrope with you
Dance the toxic ballet that we do.
And search for the moment you weaken
Or fall…
One of us must win.
One of us, the foil.
We both know that to the victor goes the spoil.
Let the games begin…

Fall Out Boys – Damon

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I was (Marie) Kondo-ing as I do and I came across some old writing of mine.

I once dated a really complex, bad character (let’s be honest, I dated more than one), but this one in particular was quite epic. About 12 years ago, I decided to compile some of my dating stories and I was going to call it, “The Fallout Boys.”

This one dude was the inspiration for a few of the pieces.

I thought I would share a few of these today.

This one is called Damon.

I was in a sketch comedy group. I always had a crush on someon or another in the creative arena. Now being surrounded by the kind of creative boys I had been a fan of was very exciting. There was Adam, who played parody songs that were hysterical and made him a fan favorite. We would have those small moments where he would stroke my hair and tell me I am pretty. I would tell him that I think he is dynamic, as I give him a neck rub (theater people, amiright?). Like a huntress in an orange vest, I found my crush prey. I may not have the best eyelash batting moves, but I do have banter…and determination. I also like doing the chasing. Taking his cues, I called him and asked him out. Music grinds to a halt. Crickets chirp. The curtain came down with a thud. He politely declined but turned distant in a heartbeat. Just like that…my dreams of being the next Nichols and May lover team died on the phone. The next season of shows was unbearable as he actively ignore me, as if I had asked him to father my child.

As the performances carried on during our summer run, Adam “temporarily” dropped out of the group. Bye bye, Adam.

What remained was a rag tag group of gay men playing straight, one straight guy we thought was gay, several horny, single women (some straight, some bi) and one married woman who was thinking of having an affair. We were a time bomb of hormones.

It was one of those summer nights where the air smells clean and has a slight breeze. We performed our usual sketches but there were more ad libs than usual. I contributed to several of them, though I knew the director would chide us for going for the laugh. 

After the show, I met up with my cast mates in the lobby to meet their guests they had brought to the show. I barely noticed the blond guy named Damon who came to see my cast mate, Easter. He was a mix of David Spade with Brad Pitt’s smile. He was attractive in a nerdy way. He looked like a tall boy, but not a tall man. He smiled at me and leaned in to whisper, “You were the funniest one up there tonight.”

I was a little taken aback, since we stood in earshot of my peers. Accepting compliments on the spot wasn’t my forte. I mumbled a polite, “thank you,” as I shuffled my feet and darted my eyes away from his gaze. On second thought, he was nerdier than handsome and not at all my type, so I excused myself from the group. Damon, go try your intense compliments on someone who will appreciate them. I left.

The following week, my friend and cast mate Sandy and I were driving her friend Marcy to a rehearsal  for a radical play being held in a garage. Our cast mate, Easter was also in the play. And so was Damon. As we pulled up to the garage, Damon, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, saw our car. He dropped his cigarette and dashed over with that same intense smile from the other night. He leaned in on the passenger side window where I sat and said, “Hey Sandy! Hey K! K, you were so great the other night.” Sandy, who was getting cranky from a caffeine withdrawal we were about to remedy, said, “Yeah, yeah, we were all great. OK, thanks. Bye.” 

He continued to smile at me with that dopey, child-like gaze. “Come see our show, okay, K.”

“I’ll try,” I said, not sure if I was telling the truth or not. 

“OKAY!” Sandy squawked.

“See you soon, K,” he said, backing away from the car and walking back into the theater. But not without turning around and waving good-bye.

He was actually taller than I had previously given him credit for. And for all his intensity, there was a slight coolness about him I hadn’t noticed until now.

As we drove away, Sandy said, “That guy is a piece of work!”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean…he is the biggest scoundrel on that show. Easter and Marcy told me that he has tried to have sex with every girl in the cast and I think he is seeing 2 women from his last show. Plus, I think he is sleeping with the wardrobe girl.”

I wish I could deny this, but my interest was piqued. I would have to downplay my interest, at least in front of Sandy.

“That guy?” I said, trying to hide my excitement.

“Yeah, that guy who has been coming on strong to you. Watch out for him, K. Ugh, he is so obvious and lecherous. He is bad news.”

The fact that he looked like a nerdy boy but was apparently this pick up artist added a new layer of complexity.  When he was just an intense, boyish fan, I had no interest in that kind of dynamic. But this…this was rich. This was dramatic. This was competition. This meant a challenge. An exercise in keeping the attention I hadn’t worked to get in the first place.

The huntress had been reawakened. My orange vest fit perfectly. I smelled a chase.

Unboxing a Friendship

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At a job that is in the industry, but isn’t that creative, I met Christia. It was friend love at first sight!

We have the same birthday and the same ideas on spirituality, creativity, positivity and productivity (all the ty words – lol).

Her sweetness is juxtaposed with her silent toughness. She laughs a lot even though her job is challenging. Most people would be happy to have accomplished the work she has. But she isn’t most people. She doesn’t brag and she doesn’t rest on her laurels.

She is also a fire spinner, a dancer, a singer, a producer, a writer and an actress.
She is many more things but I don’t want to make you think she is super human, though I believe she just may be.

This year, we celebrated our birthdays over high tea and she told me that the song she had recorded was finally getting made into a video. She was producing it and gathering her team.

She asked if I wanted to be a part. OF COURSE!

Not sure how I could help, but I wanted to just absorb it all.

I told her I could be as useful or as invisible as she needed me to be.

In May, on the day of the shoot, she picked me up at the crack of dawn, perky and looking fresher than a person who was about to be the producer and the star of a long shoot day would normally be.  Her car was packed in tetris form with craft services (some store bought food and some home made by her) and costumes.

A mutual friend of ours who is in the industry said to me, “you are going to learn so much.” I had worked on sets, both in front of the camera and behind and had even produced a few things, so I was a little taken aback by that comment, but egos are a funny thing.

I wasn’t planning on NOT learning. But I wasn’t in it for the lesson, if you dig.

I won’t get into too many details of the shoot other than Christia brought the energy, the organization, the fun, the creativity and the love to the set. She gathered a top notch team of people. Her make-up artist had created lashes that Lady Gaga had just worn to the Met Gala.

The downtown LA loft space was stunning. My mouth was either agape or smiling.

I put out the food Christia had prepared and was dubbed Crafty since everyone assumed I was the caterer, managing craft services (I wasn’t). But I  did make the coffee strong (no complaints) and I did somehow sense when to shift from breakfast food and then put out the lunch food and then snacks as there wasn’t a clear distinction of a “lunch break.” Maybe I was crafty – ha. Some of the crew, I respected from afar but would never warm to, while a few others, I was instantly drawn to. There was such a level of creative talent, that it was overwhelming in the best way.

There were lots of costume, hair and make up changes. The set and art direction were fantastic!

little box eyebrowslittle box setlittle box christia

It was a long shoot day but it ended with Christia taking Shaka and me to dinner and us recollecting all the adventures.

Our mutual friend had been correct. I learned a ton that day! Some lessons were production based. Some were personality based. And some were just knowing how far I have come in my own personal growth as a friend and as a creator. Witnessing how Christia handled this day and her own personal journey was quite rewarding.

Today, her video dropped and I stayed up last night to watch the premiere. I am so excited and proud of her for who she is and what she accomplished and what she will still create.

little box christia black hat

 

Radical Self Care

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When I was younger, summers seemed to last forever. But then again, so did the school year.

Time is funny that way. And also…just saying “when I was younger” is strange since I was younger when I typed that sentence. That time of my life when summers were long was probably the span of 8 years maybe. Think of how long 8 years go by now.

Poof!!!!!!

and

Splat!!!!! (that’s my brain exploding).

I don’t think it’s so much that we are older or younger, but it’s where our attention goes. As we get “older”, our attention is spent on other things…more “adult” things than when we are kids. Ruts happen, bills get paid, time takes on a new meaning.

In talking to a co-worker yesterday, we discussed the ripples that get created in your life when you practice RADICAL SELF CARE. Sounds extreme, right? And it kind of is…at least in thinking.

It’s not only about pampering yourself.

Though, that can totally be part of it.

It’s about having your boundaries in line, about knowing yourself, and about being your best advocate.

This past weekend, I did fun things that we had planned, and some spontaneous things. I napped. I wrote. I cooked. I colored my hair. I massaged my feet. I turned down a few invites. I checked up on friends. I called my parents. I sewed missing buttons back on my clothes. I ate blueberries (I don’t normally like them). I stretched. And the most important item for me of late…I meditated.

I find that just taking 5 minutes of breathing can lead to carving a different path in your thoughts. Those 5 minutes turn to 10 and then to 15 and so on and so on.

I know not everyone has the same time constraints and obligations. But you have 5 minutes. FIVE MINUTES! In those 5 minutes, you can breathe into a new universe of potential. Will it happen overnight? Probably not, but it could.

If meditation isn’t your thing, put on your favorite music. Or read an excerpt from your favorite author. Watch a trailer for an upcoming film you are dying to see. Sign up to volunteer. Leave a vm for a congressperson for a cause you are passionate about. Play with your dog. Listen to kids laughing in a pool. Or…shut a window to drown out kids laughing in a pool and enjoy the silence.

It’s all about raising your vibration to get you back to taking care of yourself. And those vibrations begin to create action rather than reaction. In action, you start to radically change moments around you.

rad·i·cal
/ˈradək(ə)l/   noun
plural noun: radicals      a group of atoms behaving as a unit in a number of compounds

Self care should be something we do as regularly as brushing our teeth.
But since we are in a hyper-stimulated lifestyle these days, we have to amp up things just to get back to regular.
Get radical!

And if you think it takes a lot to get there, just close your eyes and take a breath.
And then another.
Before you know it, your breaths and time will start behaving as a unit in a number of ways.

And you will be able to find wormholes of time in those breaths.

Just like summer days when you were younger.

And if you happen to schedule a massage, there’s nothing wrong with being radical like that, either.

 

 

Big Little Expectations

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This season of HBO’s “Big Little Lies” has left me feeling a little cold (and not in that Monterey fog kind of sit on your deck with a glass of wine cold). The first season held such beautiful imagery and mystique of a No Cal beach community. Paired with the amazing soundtrack, I, like every other fan, was hooked and was excited for this season. Meh. But every Sunday, I still tuned in.

bll

I was tepid about tonight’s finale. That’s only because I had such high expectations for it. I am not a believer in keeping expectations low and you won’t be disappointed, though I understand that line of reasoning works.

I am more of a “let’s aim for the moon and land among the stars” kinda gal.

A long work week for both Shaka and me, made us exhausted and ready for Friday evening in the biggest way. That isn’t to say it was a bad week. It was just very long.

Heading into this weekend, though, I realize, my expectations were high. I had big plans…HUGE PLANS! But I detest Sundayitis when the realization hits that all wasn’t accomplished before you begin a new work week.

But I am ahead of myself.

Every Friday, my department at work begins the weekend off with a bar. I haven’t gone in some time, but was happy to join in last Friday. We even secured a little turntable and were ready to play some cool vinyl that has been inherited or procured by Sutton, my cool co-worker whose stories are really cinematic and true! oxnard paakIt was a great way to make my way to Shaka. After a little deliberation of where to go for dinner (how come you have so many ideas of where to eat until the moment it’s time to eat?), we headed to Hugos (https://www.yelp.com/biz/hugos-studio-city-4). I hadn’t been there in awhile and it was delicious!

Saturday morning, while getting ready for a friend’s epic bday celebration at their newly renovated house, I began watching some season 4 Queer Eye. queer eye

I was in it for every emotional heart tug. I love those guys. Jonathan’s comments give me life!!!! I wish I showed some restraint to savor and not binge, but I know who I am. And well…by the end of the weekend, I am finished.

Sorry not sorry.

Then we headed to our friend’s pool party. The house is amazing! And there were kids everywhere. The last time we went to their house for a party, the house was a quarter of the size and many of the children weren’t even born. It was so much fun seeing Coll and Roo! And then Mads and (and correction here…her husband wanted to be called Sugar Tush 8 and not Sweet Tush 45. So his new moniker is “ST8”) ST8 arrived and we savored the tacos being served and marveled at the spaciousness of the house.

Nice people, fun times, happy birthday Roo!

In the evening, Shaka and I saw Awkwafina’s new film, “The Farewell.” farewellI really enjoyed it. I am still processing parts of it and will most likely discuss with my walking partner, Zam tomorrow.

My dreams were filled with Queer Eye moments mixed with The Farewell. I am sooooo on the nose sometimes. Even in slumber.

Today, was pretty chill. Shaka has been re-recording the first song he ever wrote and getting it just right, so it’s on repeat in the background. Even when it’s not playing, it’s STILL in my head. It’s really good! I can’t wait to share it here once it’s finished.

After running a few errands, I came home to Shaka sauteeing mushrooms in garlic and onions and it smelled heavenly. Even though I had been milquetoast on the BLL season, I was still invested and ready to watch. The vibe of wanting to drink a glass of wine, while watching the waves as the weather turns moody was alive in me. Though, the weather at the moment, is hot hot hot and there are no waves nearby, I decided to open one of Moondoggie’s wines.

modus wine

Sipping this delicious vino, eating good pasta with my honey, I was in the right head space to watch Nicole Kidman go head to head with Meryl. And you know what? I LOVED that finale!!!! Loved it! And I don’t think it was the wine mellowing me into saying that. It checked all the boxes for me of mostly what I loved about the first season. Was there a lot unanswered? Sure. But that last song with the montage of the last few minutes got me in my heart meat. And was there for it!

As I clinked my second glass with Shaka, I had to admit, I had met my expectations for this weekend. And there is no Sundayitis in sight. Only dreams of all I watched, accomplished and wanted mixed with what I hope to see play out this coming week. Clink!

 

Quicksilver People finding IT

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When I was a kid, my biggest goal was to become an actress.

I didn’t do anything about that dream other than performing in elementary school plays and then in high school, auditioned to be ONLOOKER in a few other children’s shows.

Finally, in my mid-twenties, I bit the bullet. I went looking for representation where I was told by my potential agent: “Sometimes, you meet someone and they don’t have a lot of experience. But…they have IT. You just know. My dear…you’re not one of those. You don’t have IT.”

Believe it or not…she ended up becoming my agent after I took her suggestions of things I could do to do in lieu of having IT. I got head shots, took classes and ran into her at a workshop. She was surprised I was better than she expected.

That isn’t to say, I was a good actress. I wasn’t really.

Comedy? Yes. But Drama? Not so much.

I actually was a receptionist at the time and had an audition where I played a receptionist. I didn’t get the part. I got bit parts here and there and did a film where I played a woman who died of frost bite. Made my mom cry cuz the blue lips and ice on my lips in my death scene were too much for her. If you look closely, my eyes are shut and I do look dead…except for when you see my throat swallow.

Ugh.

But one of the best things that came out of my acting time, was a friendship I struck up with a girl in one of my classes. The teacher was very dramatic, go figure. And the class was vibrating with wannabe actors like me, all wide eyed and filled with open intentions. This girl I befriended, Debbie, was a raspy-voiced, blond spark of light! She smoked, drank and talked really fast. Her mind was quick. Her loyalty was fierce and her determination was unrivaled. Debbie and I became a squad with a few others in our class. We were all each other’s biggest fans.

Debbie and I grew closer. I didn’t realize she had an alcohol problem. I wasn’t a big drinker back then. And I had grown up in Venice where many of the feral surfer kids were constantly high. I just assumed they were zen from the ocean waves. And with Debbie, I just attributed a lot of her personality of addiction to being part of her charm. I wasn’t the brightest.  What I did notice about Debbie was that she was talented and met people very easily. She was quicksilver in human form. Her parties were epic. Her friends were all characters. Boring wasn’t part of this world.

Skip skip skip…she moved to California (we were in Oregon at the time) and then back to Oregon after working a variety of jobs from personal assistant to valet.

Then, one snowy December, I got a call from her asking if I could drive her to rehab. I remember that driving was a little difficult due to icy roads.

But we made it.

And so did she.

Soon after, I went to a rehab group meeting with her as well as AA and I even went to Al-Anon.

But her world was shifting to a sober focus. I wasn’t a user but I wasn’t a teetotaler either. I am sure that was hard on our friendship.

Eventually, I moved back to California and she and I drifted apart.

Facebook reunited us. And to my excitement, she not only was still sober, but she had carved out an amazing life. She had gone back to school and become a conservation research scientist and the executive director of the KOTA (Keepers of the Ark) Foundation for Elephants.

Just last month, she released her book, “The Will of Heaven” about her recovery and her journey to be an advocate for elephants.

will of heaven

She always had IT! But she also made IT happen when it looked like the cards were stacked against her.

I highly recommend this book. Not just because I know her and am quite proud. But because it’s really good!

I decided somewhere along the way, that my acting career was to be replaced with writing, comedic storytelling and voice work. Shifting like quicksilver looking for its groove.

But because of finally taking the leap to pursue acting, I met some amazing people. I am still in touch with a few. Many no longer act. But all are thriving in various ways.

We may no longer be a squad, but I still always root for them and their accomplishments. And Debbie as the leader of the squad, has my utmost admiration, both for her personal journey and for helping to save the elephants.

Maybe IT is in the eye of the beholder. And like quick silver people, IT shifts when IT finds the right moment in time to find the right fit.

 

 

Piñata Lady Geeks

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My mom has a lot of opinions.

And two opinions she had about me are these: 1) she likes my writing (more than my singing, comedy or acting) and 2) she thinks I should be an eyeglasses model.

I used to have better than 20/20 vision, but things have changed.

I used to be vain about my excellent vision, but things have changed.

I now wear glasses for reading.

HipstamaticPhoto-584948170.820820

These days, I lean into the vision challenge I face when I am trying to read something in tiny print or in low light.

One such place was dinner the other night. Zappy, Mads, Jazzy and I reconvened to sip margaritas and celebrate. I hadn’t seen Jazzy since Palm Springs. Both she and Zappy had had birthdays in the interim.

Happy birthday, ladies!

All three women had experienced a week of highs and lows.

Like an exhausting roller coaster.

Uncharacteristically,  my week had just been a little tiring, but not turbulent.

So I just listened.

At one point, Mads and Jazzy were talking among themselves. Zappy, with a little margarita verbosity, turns to me to ponder deep thoughts. Her comments felt like they were seeking an answer. To clarify, I asked, “do you want me to weigh in? Do you want to know what I think?”

She did. So I told her what I thought. When I was done, she looked at me and said, “You’re good.” Aw.

As the dinner was coming to a close, we had gone back to laughing and gabbing and celebrating their birthdays. All their troubles seemed far away from this moment. Zappy pulled out her glasses, and I don’t know how or why it happened, but we all took turns wearing them. And then we took headshots with them.

Mads said, “it’s the Sisterhood of the traveling computer glasses.”

I almost peed my pants I was laughing so hard at all our expressions. Especially Zappy’s. And they were HER glasses!

Jazzy sent us a collage of all the shots the next day and told us her co-worker called us: a Piñata of Lady Geeks.

IMG_8965

Kind of true. IF our faces were a piñata, like Dora the Explorer or Nemo.

I think I will send the shot to my mom, in case she gets the inclination to send my photo in to an eyeglasses modeling agency.

Or just on her fridge so she can tell people who come visit her how I could have been a contender. Or a piñata.

Lake AroHay – Memorial Day Weekend (Part 3)

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The Sunday of Memorial Day weekend (no need to shame me that we just passed the 4th of July weekend – that’s coming – probably right in time for Labor Day – HA!) we planned to head to my cousin’s mountain home in Lake Arrowhead. Chachi said that his mom (who was from Japan) would pronounce it Lake Aro Hay. We kept calling it that all the way up there. It made it feel like she was still with us.

The last time we went to A’s place was Thanksgiving weekend a few years ago. It was moody, rainy, inclement and my car was having transmission smells. But it was around the time that Chachi had just gotten his Contractor position at the Mouse House and we were happy for it!

This time, it was summer and my car’s transmission was a-ok, so we were good to go!

We weren’t staying the night, though there is room. We thought we would be hanging with A, L (A’s hubby) and PinkyStrong (her 8 year old daughter you never want to find yourself in a pinky war with. She will win. And you will cry).

But when we got there, we saw A’s bro and his fiancee out front with L.

We walked inside and found 2 other families: children and animals!

If we had wanted to stay, room was looking slim. But A, being the kind of hostess like my mom, would have just made it work.

A’s friend wanted to go for a hike, so A, Chachi and I all invited ourselves along.

It is so pretty up there. A is kind of a fitness beast and says she runs this trail back and forth sometimes just to alleviate some of her energy. I got tired just listening to her, let alone ACTUALLY hiking. Chachi was impressed I was doing so well since when we hike, I take way more breaks. That’s what public shame will do when you are vain like I am – you suck it up!

On our hike/walk, A got a call from some friends of hers who live near her in the city but who also have a place up there. They were having their own little Memorial Day soiree and wanted to know if she could come.

She did, with the caveat that her 11 guests could come. No problem, said the hostess! We would just have to bring a little extra food.

These friends of A’s are very unique: genius, friendly and generous, but odd.

Chachi and I looked at each other and thought, we will stay for maybe a half hour and then head back. We got our hike in. We got our family time in. We got our mountain adventure in. We could leave the party and take a gander at the lake before the sun went down. That was the plan anyway.

Our party caravaned it to the other party.

We all got out, with mouths agape at the size of this “cabin.” It was HUGE!

The minute we walked in, we were noticed someone playing the piano (the host’s brother-in-law – also a genius intellectual) and some delicious food being prepared by the hostess. Homemade pesto filled our nostrils and wine started pouring. On the grill, the host was making grilled fish with a marinade. I don’t eat fish, but it looked like it would be good. This party, like my cousin’s was filled with more children and more dogs. Both groups were awesome! The kids later put on a dog show for all the adults. I swear some of the dogs looked at us like, “Thank god you arrived. These kids are making us jump and sit and stay – and they can barely do that for themselves!”

The other guests were just as interesting and just as nice! It was the kind of party that felt cinematic! Awesome stories, unique adventures and lots of generosity, all surrounded by high ceilings and a lit fireplace.

We stayed much longer than intended, but it was worth it. Chachi’s philosophy is to say yes to as much as he can. He figures that better things happen when you do that. He wasn’t wrong.

Regretfully, we finally peeled ourselves away and drove to see the lake just after sunset.

We pulled the car over and took it in.

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Down below, amidst the lighted homes, you could hear the sounds of people having a good time and the smells of bbqs.

Lake Aro Hay hadn’t disappointed at all. If fact, with all the planning we had done the entire weekend, we hadn’t planned on feeling as content, blissed out and surprised as we did.

With a slice of the various adventures feeling like mini vacays in our pockets, we smiled and drove back to the city.

 

 

 

 

 

Guess…who has a museum – Memorial Day Weekend (Part 2)

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As we quickly approach 4th of July, it is apparent that I am behind. I wanted to do a 3-parter, if you will, about Memorial day weekend. It was quite packed and unexpected.

Saturday, after tripping the town fantastic with Mads and Mr. Mads, Chachi and I had a relaxing morning. There is a facebook friend and real life acquaintance who is in the art world. Lately, whenever he posts anything, I tend to pay attention because it is usually awesome. He had been at the 14th Factory right as it opened (we followed suit and loved it!)

 

He had also posted about the Marciano Art Foundation which had just opened (yes, Marciano as in Guess jeans). After seeing that online tickets weren’t available until June for July entry, I somehow was able to get in (persistence and distrust of being told NO- pays off). Chachi and I made our way through town to the looming building (former Scottish Rite Freemasons building). We loved it! If you know Chachi and me, you know that we have a lot in common. We also are VERY different. I am fast and intense. He is more deliberate and chill. So it was in our best interests to separate at our own speeds to savor the exhibits.

When the Marcianos bought the building from the Freemasons, a lot of things were left behind. Like wigs the men would wear in performances. So, naturally, there was a wig museum

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There is an area that is a library or a relic space, where they exhibit all the other left-behind Freemason stuff (photos, documents, outlines, rules, awards, etc). That is one, weird cult. Think Eyes Wide Shut with wigs for men. Wait—were there wigs for men in Eyes Wide Shut? It’s been awhile – I digress).

One of the guys working there told me that some of the most illegal stuff happened here. Whoa! What does that even mean. What makes something more illegal than something else? Sinister? Twisted? My mind was reeling and it made the photos of this closed fraternal organization leap out with even more bizarre chills.

And the signage from some of those meetings and performances were kind of WTF-ish.

There were several levels to the museum. Some interactive, some visually stunning and large.

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Hollywood is backwards

Hollywood is backwards

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Some were small, but gave quite a punch.IMG_0067

Farts and nose-picking make me laugh. Unless I am trapped in a car when you are doing either. Then I will scream, “this is why i can’t have nice things!”

Some of the items and artists have work at the Broad downtown, so it was slightly familiar but nothing that I don’t mind seeing again.

There was one film that really moved us. It was by artist  Yael Bartana called “Inferno.” The music in it stayed with me long after we left.

There was a sign/art that I was drawn to.

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But I tend not to tell jokes, I tell truths that make you laugh. Boom!

At least I hope you are laughing. Are you laughing? Please laugh. I need you to laugh! Who needs you anyway.

Maybe the joke is on me. Shit.

Perhaps I am too sensitive for the sign/art.

It was a gorgeous day, and from a balcony that looks out on LA, you almost feel as if you are in LA from another decade. Or maybe that was what it looked like when we were there. Or with the filter I used.

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With all these museum trips, you might think Chachi and I are cultured and shit.

Well, you would be right. We are cultured AF!

You can tell by our language. Lol.