Little Red Corvette

OK, I don't drive one, nor do I expect to in the near future, but the song fucking rocks my world. As anyone who's been in my vicinity recently can attest, I've been jamming to Prince on a regular basis.
And I will use the excuse of blurry 3am ramblings to note here that I talked to the man himself tonite! FUCK YEAH. FUCK YEAH.

Oh, and on an other-events-of-the-day-tip I also bought a goldfish and named him Smarmy.
Bad-conontations name, perhaps, but nevertheless, it works. Besides, I leave it up to his orangey self to reinvent the meaning of the word in his little bowl. (to which I introduced a white rose to jump-start the process, which was left over from the Jermaine Dupris party this eve.)
blah, blah, I know...

The Word of the Day for June 24 is:
cocooning \kuh-KOON-ing\ noun: the practice of spending leisure time at home in preference to going out

summer lovin'

had me a blast









farewell to the most dapper man in my life. we shall meet again soon, in his neck of the woods. aka vermont.yay, bro.

Silver Linings

The saltwater breeze, bright tropical colors and a zesty cocktail of Californication on my local Venice Beach are picking my spirits up and depositing them back on blissful cloud 9 where I, until recently, could most consistently be found floating.
Interpretation in regular English: life is grand!

The weekend was a whirl. Participated in the dubious exercise of dodging 60mph balls for fun in the Hollywood dodgeball tournament, skeedaddled down to the waves with a boogie board and kicked up my heels to the lilting tunes of my fun new neighbor's wooden Pied Piper flute at a Willy Wonka party.

Gratefully missed my ex at the same by 10 minutes. But despite the efforts of my Oompa Loompa get-up - hot pink wig and almost-naughty white kneesocks -, my mood rapidly spiralled to bad-mushroom-trip proportions at even the suggestion of his presence.

So I cried, cried some more, laughed a little, hugged my brother, curled up with my friends, and clambered back onto that cloud.

It's Hot. Don't Touch It.

'Don't be Heedless'
Don't burn & complain: 'This is pain.'

the 'buddhist wisdom' delivered randomly to my email inbox this morn. Makes so much sense, and yet so does spontaneously cumbusting ;) just for the thrill of the heat. What pain?
Oh. THAT feeling. Immediately after.
no thanks. but wait, i want it.
yes, yes, I speak in veiled terms of unresolved longing...

but is longing ever truly resolved? or just gradually dissipated as reality marches forward?

Me Miss Mexican Mole

***
Life is such a hectic whirl right now. And yet, I suppose I wouldn't have it any other way, seeing as I always manage to surround myself with action no matter where I go.
Brentwood magazine is a nuthouse filled with perks like the Beverly Hills restaurant review, art gallery opening and celebrity charity fundraiser complete with gift bags that I'm attending just this week alone. I'm hanging on for dear life and getting those clips for as long as my nibbled fingertips can dig in. That's a convenient analogy to politically correctedly describe the complete power-struggling, bankrupt drama that is my boss. Oops, i said it anyway!

But overall, life is lovely. I am hell-bent, steely-eyed, petal-to-the-metal focused out the racing windshield that is my career. Good thing I'm pursuing the creative thing I love most; writing. It makes earning beans so much more fun.

My brother Ben just gave a little snore-snort from his couchbed. I adore having his witty little Funyon-breath, tye-died 13 yr. old self waiting for me when i get home. I wish it was for more than just this 2-week visit treat. He is the cutest thing on the planet, even though he declined the mole-doused over-easy eggs with corn tortillas that I made him this morning. I don't see what's wrong with a little spicy-chocolate concoction poured over runny yolks, but whatever.
Mexico definitely had a lasting influence on me. I wish I could go visit Viole in Chiapas, just finish writing my damn novel already, and subsist on mole.

What is Happiness? well I'll tell ya!

At risk of sounding new agey tiresome to my generally nonexistent cyber-audience, here is a quote that I want to remember. It reminds me of what I used to know when I was younger and traveling in Scandanavia.
(ah, the wisdom of youth, back when I was 22 instead of 24)

"I believe that just being conscious of our ability to shift our rhythms within the fabric of a frenetic society will make our hours less anxious, our days less stressful, and our lives more complete.
It will, simple enough, make us happier.
Happiness has a rythym, too. Happy people seem to live less frenetically. They have more time in their lives. They are more in the moment. This happiness is available to all of us."
-stephan rechtschaffen

It's so easy to get caught up in the daily grind and give in to pointless anxiety. like Jesus said, 'which of you, by worrying, can add one cubit to his stature?' (thanks christianity-examination novel-that-I'm-currently writing, for that tidbit)
I read a Time magazine article on the origin and causes of happiness recently. It discovered that 1) faith plays a huge role in peoples' level of gladness and 2) how much $$ you make and where you live plays an amazingly small role (like 8%) in your general satisfaction. What it all comes down to is if you're around family and friends whom you love.
I am, accordingly, shaping my life around making sure at least 1, preferably more, of my kick-ass 7 siblings will be around me in some respect at all times.
Now about the faith thing...agnosticism (i have NO idea if that's a word, but fuckit) is kind of an inevitable by-product of education at least in my case. But I still believe that god is within me and all around me, and it's up to me how much I want her to be realized in my own life (nothin' like a little esoteric mumbo jumbo to mask that I have no idea what I'm talking about).
but I'm contemplating it, and that alone makes me happy.
damnit, I wish they had big, goofy, drooling smiley faces that I could tack on right HERE.

Wandering in Wisconsin

"So, Thomas, how do you like living in Wisconsin?" I ask my recently relocated 9 year old articulate little brother. "It's allright," he nods agreeably.
He blinks his long eyelashes and contemplates the question further.
"I guess I never heard of bratwurst until I moved here. Everybody eats it here. That's pretty cool, I guess."
***
Cruising at 40 mph along the one-lane highway we pass some deer grazing.
"whoo! It's a six-pointer!" Sam the 11 year old points at the buck. "I wish I had a gun."
"Why would you want to shoot it?" the LA vegan-friendly older sister asks indignantly.
"Everyone likes to shoot things around here," Sam explains. "And stick the heads on the wall."
"And then they eat the bodies!" Thomas chimes in.