The Lyrics of Life in LA

Dying is easy.
Comedy is hard.
Or that is what they say.

But truth is...for comics...comedy is life.
Bombing IS hard, but getting out there to try it out over and over, well, it's what we live and breathe.

And even though most comics need your approval, they would continue to do what they do, even if you hated them.

Or at least I would.

I can't NOT try and make you laugh. I can't NOT perform.

So after years of suppressing the urge, followed by years of fostering the urge; of seeking my niche (improv, stand-up, sketch, etc), I finally found it in the comedic-monologue.

I have been doing it for the past 5 years.

But lately, a little voice has been throwing out new suggestions for comedy bits to perform.

And strangely, I have listened.

Thank god for the platform of Comedy Klatch at Bang Theater.
It allows that voice's suggestions to be heard.

And curse it too.

Because it means I have to stretch out my comedy legs.

The last Comedy Klatch came and went.
But not without a bang. At Bang!

I tried something new. Stress plagued me the days preceeding the evening.

And on the way to the theater, I was actually thinking, I should just do a stinking monologue...this little song idea I am planning is going to be a disaster.

I almost did switch it last minute too.

But that would have been cheating myself since I knew that the little voice that I am allowing to have its way is really giving me carte blanche to do the things that I truly want to and which will ultimately make me stronger as a performer.

I may fail, but at least I will not have any regrets.
At least that is what I tell myself to get me on the stage.

And the show went well!

Better than well.

It went swell!

With my awesome friends supporting me in the audience and a crowd that was ready to laugh, I vowed never to doubt the little voice again.

Because even though comedy is hard, not doing it is harder.
And by NOT trying out new comedy ideas, I just end up doing bad impressions at parties.
And no one wants that.

Now I present to you..."Chanson", from the lastest Comedy Klatch.

They say the veil between the other realm and this one is lifting.

The worlds overlap at times...and the invisibles sometimes become visible.

No better time to see ages of myth, celebration and lore come into this reality than the last week in October.

Today is Day of the Dead.

But in Hollywood, I celebrated it a week ago.

Last Saturday, Reb and Ocerin picked me up to go to a pre-party for Dia de los Muertos at photographer Erin's cozy little hideaway.



There was a make-up artist getting everyone ready and the most delicious food.

It was quaint, intimate and was the best way to kick off the night.

With stories of actual Turkish Prison stays, and crazy emigrating stories, we were quite the lively crew.

As the time to commune with the dead at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery was approaching, Reb, Ocerin and I headed back to Los Feliz to get ready.

With two more added to our gang, we battled the traffic and found parking and walked with the throngs of revelers along Santa Monica Blvd.

Mads was meeting us there, as were Len and Lo.

Once inside, our party split like an atom and we would never see our group in tact again.

Mads and I wandered and I caught my giant smile in a reflection.

It was so exciting: people, kids, music, food, general celebration, all communing to celebrate the other realm.





















And in the process, a great time was had by most.

I attended a great show on Sunday at the Hotel Cafe with the RFO (unplugged) and Taylor Negron reading, as well as Rachel Resnick reading from her book "Love Junkie" (which sounds awesome) and some poets all rocking
my world along with my social network of the Goddess Christine, Roy and Trent.
I was ready for the week to begin.
And I was revived with a new energy that seemed to come from another place.

That all changed by the end of the week.
Energy can get zapped when you start out of the gate too early.
Lots going on and my reserves were not so full.

I barely put a costume together but found my requisite cat ears and called it good.

After a festive, fun day at work where they pulled out all the stops to celebrate Halloween Eve day, I was done.

By the time Halloween arrived, it was the middle of the day before I was mobile.

I headed to Leigh's to do an early Halloween with Aubbers and then would later celebrate in my single gal, don't-have-kids lifestyle.

Leigh's street, it would appear doesn't believe in Halloween. Aubbers was the only child trick-or-treating.
It led to 2 year old Aubbers saying at most houses, "No one's home", as if she thought THIS was the point of Halloween.
Some people gave out candy. One woman gave out change since she had forgotten to get candy. One house locked the door WHILE we were on the porch AND they turned out their light (even though it wasn't dark yet - so not sure why the light was even on), and then one house had a birthday party happening.

The grandmother ushered us in to the all-Spanish speaking celebration. We stood there in the back yard watching Mexican clowns when AJ finally said to our hosts, "Okay, thanks, we are gonna head out now." They wanted us to stay. They wouldn't let us leave without giving us candy. As we left, thanking our new friends, we shook our heads laughing, wondering if that really did just happen. Did they realize Halloween was happening outside their house.

We finally headed to Studio City for some rockin' house decorations and costume-filled streets.

I was exhausted.

After all the hanging skeletons, make-up, spookiness and sugar comas from the week, I was not sure I could take on any more veil lifting.

But Sunday, I had a truly blissful experience.

I can't talk too much about it. But it involved meditation, mind altering and a lot of trust.
It didn't change my life.
But it did give me a moment of relief, and a little clarity.

It was another great way to start the week.

Last week, I started by celebrating the dead.
This week, I started by celebrating life.

And honestly, sometimes that veil is so thin, I can't tell the difference between the two.

So the only thing left to do is celebrate...it doesn't really matter why.

Back when I was in an improv group, we performed a game called "What's Beyond."
You get the regular WHO, WHAT, WHERE from the audience but the twist to the scene is that the actors in the game have agreed upon an additional piece of information that the audience doesn't know but which adds another layer to the scene. Like, 3 siblings in a supermarket darning socks...and the WHAT'S BEYOND is that there is a sniper in the store.

The past week and a half has been one of the best...and the worst for me.
High emotions.
Lots of great stuff.
And lots of WHAT'S BEYOND.
I try and keep it hidden.
But it came out in a melt-down at work.
I am grateful for my amazing friends at work. And in my real life.

MY WHAT'S BEYOND:

A young friend of mine has cancer
There is radio silence between me and a very close family member and it looks like it is going to stay that way.
A misguided dinner with an ex turned out to be an even worse decision than first anticipated;
Something humiliating happened before anything regrettable happened.
That's the good news AND bad news.

THE WHO, WHAT, WHERE:

- Mads's birthday. Awesome time. She looked great.



Big Foot West was fun and absent of the ick vibe I get at the Atwater Village location.



- My friend's daughter's toddler's 2nd birthday out in Saugus (where?) at a pumpkin patch.
The temp was 101 degrees and google maps sent everyone an hour in the wrong direction in an area where there was no phone coverage.



But once I finally made it, Lombardi Ranch proved to be Disneyland for pumpkins.
And people. With pumpkins. That sounds dirty.

There were pony rides, hay stacks and scarecrows.








- I was only able to stay a short while because I was headed back to non-Saugus environs to meet up with the Goddess Christine for coffee. She shed her wisdom on the piece I am doing for Comedy Klatch next week. And we gabbed as women on a schedule do...fast. But deep.

- After coffee, I headed home where Leigh, AJ and Aubbers met me.



Dinner at Palermos satiated our tums so we could head to Hollywood for a church carnival fundraiser to see the RFO perform. Aubbers knows Ruby's music and we were excited to see if she would like her first concert. Leigh shook her head (obviously seeing her future as the mother of a festival kid) when Aubbers started headbanging as the RFO took the stage.



It was a fabulous show with awesome lighting that provided me fun shots.



Ruby shone with a voice that carried out over the screams from people on the ferris wheels.
The Orchestra was tight and AJ was impressed that when two mics failed to work, that Ruby handled it gracefully AND that the band seamlessly worked around it and kept the show going. (turns out the mics had gotten unplugged. Speaking of which...There will be an unplugged version of the RFO at the Hotel Cafe this Sunday along with the fabulous Taylor Negron who will be reading something).

- As I bade adieu to my concert cohorts, I went to Cecily's party in my building.
It was fun and dancy. A game of MadLibs was played and it created a phrase that may be the name of my band. I will keep you posted.

- My Neighbor Lisa and I headed to Palm Springs to stay at the swanky Parker Hotel.
After taking in the gorgeous grounds and getting situated,







we headed out to Joshua Tree for an evening of meditation, dancing in the desert and writing down what we want to release and then burning it

It was dark. But the sky was a blanket of stars. The Milky Way was so clear and I wondered what drama was occurring on another planet whose sun was a star that I was looking at.

The tableau was surreal as I felt the cool desert wind flick my hair around while I danced on a picnic table in the dark to the music of my ipod beneath a glowing sky.

I saw a shooting star - Lisa saw 3!

We tried to burn our pieces of paper but the wind was too powerful.
We decided we would burn it back at the hotel in the fire pit.
Unfortunately, upon rearrival to the Parker, we weren't the only ones wanting to use the fire pit. The poor couple who was celebrating their anniversary roasting marshmallows tried to make conversation with us as we threw our paper into the pit (looking like a couple of anti-social paper burners). Meditating on paper takes concentration, yo.

In the morning, Lisa went running and I got to hang out and swim at the pool all by myself and I imagined my entire estate was before me and the pool was mine...ALL MINE!

- Ange and I went to Mortified in Hollywood.
My friend Lorelei was performing.
She saw us pre-show and started to introduce us to her friends: Trent Walker and Roy Cruz.
Roy and I shrieked our recognition and hugged. I love Roy.
We have done a few Pinata shows together. He is a genius comic.
Trent and I started talking and it appears, we have both seen each other's shows without knowing it. "Oh my god! That was you!?! I loved that piece!" we both said to each other.
Lorelei's piece was awesome. It was a great night of laughing and communing with brilliance.

All in all, I can't complain.
The Who, What and Where have all been awesome and I am grateful.
The What's Beyond nearly kicked my emotional ass.

But just like in improv, you go forth without a script and take a "yes, and" approach to it all.

You just have to remember that no matter how good or how bad things get, at some point,
the temporary situation will come to an end when someone calls out:

"And scene."

It's raining here.
And I like the sound of it.

I left my window in the living room open.
Not good.
But I am hoping that the eaves maybe drew the drops away from my screen and onto the plants below.
Could happen.

I left it open to get fresh air in.
I just didn't notice the clouds this morning.
Maybe because I had such a nice time with Mads last night.

I owe so much to her.
In general.
She is a style magnet;
A guru on things that are about to burst open on any scene.

Tomorrow is her birthday (Bon Anniversaire Lady!).

When I was re-emerging in this town, she paved the way.
And I have now been back 10 years this month.
My life would have been vastly different had we not met.

Last night, she met me for hot chocolate at the Casbah Cafe on Sunset.
The hot chocolate was thick and rich.

We reminisced about how things have changed for us.
And about how I used to be.

"Remember when you hated going to see live music?" she giggled.
"Yeah, I would complain about standing. And I would fall asleep at the Hollywood Bowl."
"And you would never stay out late. You used to try and join us, but it just wasn't in you. I think it was just a phase."
"Um, I think I just didn't know who I was then."

I pitied her that she ever had to deal with that version of me.
I am sure I was still funny. And nice.
But I was so much sadder then. And lost.
But she was always there.
And now I hopped into a different, shinier me.
I love when she can join the new me on my adventures like a night like last night.

We headed over to the Silverlake Lounge to see the RFO who was playing with Jonneine Zapata.

I hadn't been there in awhile.

I asked Mads how many dates she had been on there?
She answered.
I shant give away her secrets.
But the thought of her past made her laugh.
She kind of rolled her eyes, "yeah, I am glad those days are gone"

I remember seeing a bass player I was in love with play there.
It had all been so dramatic for me.
Not like *that* has changed much.

But I was grateful that last night, the only drama that occurred was onstage in the form of the performances.

The band that was playing when we got there was Sissy Wish.

The lead singer was wearing a gold lamé 80's-esque prom dress outfit.



"I don't think this is JUST her stage persona," Mads leans over and says to me regarding the lead singer's quirky ways.

I would have to agree.

But I liked the music. So did Mads.
They were interesting and very intricately computerized.
Her voice was cool and we chalked up the eccentricities to her Scandinavian-ness.

I ran into Ruby on my way to the restroom.
She radiates a grandeur even off the stage.

When the RFO began their set, the crowd seemed to have appeared instantly.



"She has a lot of admirers and fans," Mads remarked as we noticed the audience getting closer to the stage and the clicking of several cameras going off.

The Orchestra sounded great and even though you couldn't see the drummer, he was there in the shadows playing the heartbeat of the songs.



My favorite new song they perform is Best Days.

"You haven't seen the best days of your life..." are the lyrics.
And with the Salvation sign that glows above the stage, I really felt a sort of sense of being saved.

From my past.

And in this moment with one of my dearest friends,
With one of my favorite bands,
Listening to one of my favorite singers,
I let those lyrics go through me.

And hug me tightly.

I haven't seen the best days of my life yet.

I like the sound of that.

The only thing I need is more sleep.
That's all.

Life is good.

Meditation yesterday was transforming.

I had no idea as I drove into the little Cheviot Hills neighborhood on a glorious sunny day to my meditation group that I would leave a completely different being.

Love-filled. Life-filled. Inspired. And ready.

Enough so that I went to our band's drummer's other band's show at El Cid. Silver Phial.
That's their name.
And they are good.

I love Cheryl. Our drummer. Not only is she pretty.
But she is immensely talented AND she laughed out loud at something I said...so I know she also has a sense of humor.

Awesome.

And today feels like fall.
Not just LA fall (which is nice), but real real fall.
And I should have brought a jacket so I could enjoy it more.
Because the chill is a little much. But I ain't complaining.

At lunch, with my co-workers, I breathed in the air like it was my first real breath.
And I smiled.
Because I inhaled fall. And some fried food smell of a neighboring restaurant.

Which is kind of a yummy aroma. If you don't think too hard about it.

My hands wrapped around my piping hot coffee, we watched a little puppy pee on the pavement because he was so excited about everything.

And that's kind of how I feel at the moment.

Though if I am peeing on the pavement, there might be a problem.

October is proving to be the beautiful, social month I had anticipated.

The air in LA this week has been stellar: crisp, clean, sunny, cool...inspiring.

Like a creative comet, I am bumping into others like me floating out there in the universe.

And it feels good to be so connected.

Wed night, I wandered down the street to join Nally, Wendy and Nally's neighbor JB to watch the Dodgers.
I don't really follow baseball, so the event was more social for me.
But once I got there, I surprised myself by my multi-tasking: I was able to socialize and watch the game and be interested in both!
JB is an amazing photographer who has shot the likes of Iggy Pop, Keith Richards, Michael C. Hall and so many of that ilk.
His nonchalance with me about his art intrigued me to go to his site when I got home.
Breathtaking photos!
It provided me with new ideas for my upcoming photo shoots.

And the Dodgers won!

Thursday night, I met PM and Monk for our monthly Art Walk downtown.
We started in Little Tokyo noshing on raman. The time was later than we thought and decided we might not want to head to art walk since it usually winds down around 9:30.
It was 9:30.
We risked it anyway and I am glad we did.
Throngs of people pouring out into the streets, Dublab's anniversary party in a gallery at Spring, performance art with a man who was posing as Jesus in an outdoor mall (damn, I forgot my camera, but PM brought hers and got GORGEOUS shots), there was just so much happening.
We met up with Monk's friend Chad. It was his birthday. They went their own way after walking us back to our car and PM and I headed to Edgar's fabulous Garden Party.
The band Divisible was playing and I really dug them. PM got more amazing shots and I couldn't believe my decision to NOT bring my camera.
A German man who was next to me in line for the bathroom asked if I saw "the Jesus".
"Yes," I said.
"Wouldn't it be funny, if he really thought he WAS Jesus?" he asked.
"Wouldn't it be funny, if he really WERE Jesus?" I asked, "Cuz if he comes back, I doubt ANYONE will believe him."
"Well, Jesus didn't have blue eyes," he said
"That Jesus was 200 feet away. He may have had purple eyes for all we know."
ANd then he went into how blue eyes came into existence 8,000 years ago from a weird chemical imbalance in the iris.
????
That was the look I gave him when I asked if he was a scientist.
"Nope," was his answer. And then it was his turn to use the restroom and I never saw him again.
I saw the lovely Melissa Krook, a Seattle transplant who appears at all the best parties and who is just the coolest.
PM and I ran into Nally and chatted while the next band (love isgoodmusic.com and their choice of bands they promote!) began.
The downtown skyline twinkled before me as I drove back home.

Saturday was my walking day in my village. Dressed for a day-to-night look, I headed over a pieds, to Barnsdall Art Park to see "Beyond Eden", an art fair of some of the freshest, newest, hippest artists around at the moment. I am particularly drawn to photography and loved the exhibit called "Heroes and Villains" showing off photog portraits of the newsmakers in the contemporary art scene.

After taking some photos (see I learned my lesson from Thursday) and breathing in the beauty of an awesome fall day, I walked over to the dark Rustic to join Nally to watch the beginning of the Dodgers sweep the Cardinals.

I parted ways with them before the game was over to walk to Skylight Books to see an amazing reading from: SA Griffin, David Smith and Scott Wannberg. Some of the passagers from each of them truly moved me to the point of tears and goosebumps. But mostly, I was moved to happiness and laughter by Scott's stories/poems.

When it was over, I headed to a friend's who is now my new neighbor and we caught up over some wine and moving boxes.

I was supposed to join Nally for a late-night party in the Hollywood Hills, but from all the inspiration the week had given me, and the activity-driven schedule I was keeping, I was pretty tuckered out.

With thoughts of amazing people, moving words, thought-provoking photography and trying to find my place in all of it...I fell asleep.

The dreams rivaled what I already had experienced.

*happy sigh*

I found myself at the Bordello yet again.

Sarah Stanley and the Longhaired Cousins were playing. I met Sarah years ago through a mutual friend who has introduced me to several awesome people. Funny thing is that mutual friend and I barely talk anymore.
Not from ill will or bad blood, but because life paths took us down different directions.
But the people she introduced me to still keep in touch.
Life is funny that way.

I never had the chance to see Sarah perform until this week.
She was great.
Her band is awesome.



And even though I knew Sarah was talented, I was still really impressed with her!



And I met some really incredible people.
I sat with the lovely Bridget who seemed like someone I have known awhile even though we had just met.

The band that followed Sarah was Merle Jagger.
And they are incredible musicians. And really really nice guys.
I took some shots of them as well from my bar stool.



The headlining band, Killing Cassanova was great too and it included almost all the guys in Sarah's band.
Being the dim bulb I am, it took me a minute to figure it out.

"hey...those guys look familiar..."

I told Bridget and Sarah about my recent dream of the devil getting me pregnant but not wanting to commit to me, and they had the brilliant idea to take a pic of me with one of the many devil heads floating around.



There was a guy at the bar next to Bridget who really looked like the devil and Bridget nudges me and asked if I wanted my pic taken with him instead.
Being the wimp I am, I passed.
Being the re-teller of a good idea, I told Sarah what Bridget had suggested.
We laughed and then she questioned why it had to be an "either/or" situation.

"Why not both him and the devil head?"

"Ack...I can't ask a man who is very scary to pose with me for a photo where he looks like my boyfriend...the devil."

"Then he can be the baby you give birth to," Sarah quips.

She is funny, that one.

The time had come for me to head home and I said good-bye to my new friends and walked out into the night with Sarah to our cars.

I smiled all the way home, realizing how fabulous things are turning out to be.

I am notorious for thinking I see celebrities when they aren't really there.

Growing up in LA, I don't possess the same gene that other native Angelinos have where they don't get excited when they see famous people. I used to ask my mom to drive down Avenue of the Stars in Century City because I thought that we would automatically see them.

Through the years, having worked with and for celebrities, my excitement level varies depending on who it is that I am spotting.

Generally, the more famous, the more inclined I am to yawn since they are probably always on tv, in the news and internet sites being photographed ad nauseum.

The scene: an outdoor cafe in Los Feliz, Saturday night with friends.

I am seated facing the street.

There we are having drinks, telling stories, enjoying the night air when my friend, Neil Katcher, one of the producers of Mortified walks by. Not a celebrity but a successful cool guy.

Me: "Everyone, this is Neil. Neil, this is everyone."

He says hi. They say hi.
I ask him when the next Mortified show is and he tells me that it's coming up on October 21. It's their 7 year anniversary of the show. Should be fabulous. I will be there!

He hello/goodbyes it with us and we resume our chatting.

Then a car pulls up to valet and out steps my love and darling, Demetri Martin.
His date (I barely noticed her) came out of the passenger side.
As he stood getting out of the car, my mouth agape and my eyes wide, I say staring at him, "Oh my god, it's Demetri Martin! I. LOVE. HIM."
He sees this.
And I see that he sees it and I can't stop talking.
My friends all turn around saying, "Who?" "Who is Demetri Martin?"

He and the date are walked over by the host to be seated next to us and I...
am apparently so stalker like, he opts for going to a different restaurant.

Poo.

Good bye my love Demetri. I know your date was jealous so you had to do the chivalrous thing.
You are cool like that.

Then not 5 minutes later, Ron Livingston walks by. I am texting Sarah Grace like crazy because she in NY and I in LA have this sort of "Hot off the Presses" banter we do.

My table of girlfriends is half amazed, half bored with my successful "star" sightings.

Mads is laughing because she is usually witness to my errors.

Sarah Silverman's sister walks by, as does a guy I met when I came out here, who was the ex boyfriend of the artistic director for the improv group I was in in Portland.

"Well, I wouldn't call him a star," Nally correctly points out.

Touche.

The women next to us (who shared their awesome dessert with us) started talking to the men next to them. Nally, Mads and I all thought the younger guy was famous.
We still couldn't figure it out when the men's Rolls Royce pulled up in valet.

A banner night of seeing the semi-famous for sure.
But more important than seeing the famous for me is seeing the somewhat-known, interesting.
Which I did.
And even more important than that...

It was all true and I didn't have to recant a single sighting.
Not even to myself.

My Neighbor Lisa has a very colorful life story.
It is hers to tell, so I won't go into it too much.
Her blog is linked on this page (I dare you to find it).

She hates September. Hates it.
All the bad stuff that has ever happened to her has happened in September.

Yesterday was September 30th.
The last day of a month I would soon forget as well.

Yuck month.

I am so familiar with Square One that I would say it should put a ring on my finger but alas, it just won't commit.
It just visits and makes bootie calls and tries to make sure I am still around.

The good thing about starting over is that you get to clear away the debris. That's if you choose NOT to hang on to it.

So there I am, talking to My Neighbor Lisa in the hallway of our building.
I am telling her that I am headed to Bordello to see the RFO rock my socks off.
She is working on a writing project.
Both of us saying adieu to the month in our own ways.

We are choosing to let the past month go; clear away ITS debris.
We are choosing to go forward with a new perspective; not to hang onto the past.
It will be a new month.
A new day.
A new....everything.

Yay us.

I love the Bordello. Mads introduced me to it awhile ago.

"Where are we?" I remember asking back then, since it is in the middle of seemingly nowhere.

But since that time, having traversed this somewhat fair city on a regular basis at night in areas that are better left to vampires, crack heads and ghosts, I rarely balk when I learn that a party is in a "seedy" area.

My only concern was trying to figure out the directions. I had mapped it out. Even called the place, but I am pretty bad with directions and didn't want to be looking like a vulnerable Goldilocks all confused with map in hand, relying on the kindness of strangers.

But as luck would have it, the gods were smiling on me and I found the place just fine, as well as groupie (not rock star) parking.

As I walked in, I silently gave thanks to living in a great city with this kind of venue that fits the spirit that the RFO and Ruby herself embody: dark and red, with sensuality and coquette-ishness all dripping from the walls.





Immediately, I saw Richard Meade and Dire McCain.



We grabbed a seat and chatted about camera batteries, creativity, shoes, and the general catch up of what 3 creatives have been up to.

Edgar Varela, (who throws the famous Garden Parties after the downtown Art Walk every month - the next one is Thursday, October 8, 2009 at 9:00pm), showed up and sat with us.

Dire: you look familiar. What's your last name?
Edgar: Varela
Dire: Ha ha...we are Facebook friends.
Edgar: Aren't we all

Tis true.

Right before the RFO was about to take the stage, I looked at my group and let them know I am goofy for this band so I have to stand and dance and sing along to the words and for them not to judge me too harshly for it. And to save my seat.

Edgar, Dire, Richard: "Go for it!"

I love kindred spirits!

And just like every show of theirs that I have seen before, the band was on fire.



Ruby's vocals just get more energized with each show.

They played a new song that was really awesome; as well as many of my favorites.

In their hit, "Shooting Stars", there is a line that is seriously one of my favorite lyrics of all time:
"Right now, I'm doing fine."

Like a mantra I repeat, it's gotten me through some tough days.
But it's also the way the way she sings it and vocally hangs on to those words.

Each time they perform it, that lick is different.

And I wait in suspense, wondering what new way she can find to wrap herself around it and give it back to us shiny and new.

Goosebumps.

That's what I had during last night's take on the lyric.

Yum.

I looked at Dire to show her my goosebumps, as if I needed to have a witness.
That I wasn't alone in the feeling.

All I can say is they scorched the place.

I looked around me and saw all kinds of different reactions from the other audience members: some dancing, some swaying to the music with eyes shut, some singing along, some really rocking out in their own personal heaven.
I was doing all the above.
I hoped my disclaimer of not being judged hadn't been forgotten.

When the band finished with a song dedicated to a fallen comrade, there was a lot of emotion in the air.

I exhaled.

September was nearly over.
And what a way to end it.

I said good-bye to my table mates and a brief "yahoo and congrats" to the lady red gem herself and then I headed for home.

As I pulled up to my building, cop cars, and what seemed like the whole neighborhood were convening at my building.

There was a car facing the wrong direction with all kinds of damage.

I found My Neighbor Lisa out front.

Apparently, a doctor who had just come off a very long shift, fell asleep at the wheel and crashed into one parked car that crashed into another which crashed into My Neighbor Lisa's parked new ride.

"I couldn't get out of September unscathed," she said matter of factly.
I hugged her.

The guy had insurance and no one was injured so hopefully the red tape won't be too nasty for my poor friend.

If I hadn't gone to the show, my car would have been one of the ones hit too.
There but for the grace of god...

I guess that if September had to end,
it had to end with a sizzle and then a bang.

And it did.

I welcome thee October.

Come here so I can introduce you to Square one and a half.

Right now, I really am doing fine.

I am a little further than I was before.

What I was expecting was to be transformed.

So much so, that I didn't even balk at the time of day I would have to wake up to join PM and D to drive down to Long Beach to see the Dalai Lama speak.

I was hopeful.
Inspired.
Excited.

I made it downtown to PM's mansion in no time.

We got our coffee, we hit the freeways and it was clear and easy.
Good sign for a day that was proving to be life changing.

When we arrived in Long Beach with the throngs of others there for their own personal reasons, the air hung heavy with humidity. It was oppressive.

Not the way a beach morning at 8:30am should be.

Once inside, we looked at the stage which was bedecked in gorgeous colorful material and a chair that he would eventually sit on for several hours cross-legged.

The people-watching was exhilarating.

When he finally arrived on stage, I was tingling.
Some monks did amazing prayers, whereby their voices sounded like musical instruments.
Around me, were Buddhists who were doing the prayers on the ground.
I was in the presence of one of the holy men of the world.

I was feeling it.

And then he started to talk.
In English.
Which made it hard to understand him.

He had the most amazing smile and he laughed intermittently at several of his own jokes. As D said, it was a hearty laugh.

When he stated to speak in Tibetan, he had a translator who would repeat everything back.

I stopped feeling it.

I did laugh along with the crowd when he pulled out a visor with velcro to put on his head while speaking.

He spoke about Buddhism and about taking responsibility for your own actions.
It was powerful information but it lost its "umph" on me as it got translated.

At the lunch break, PM, D and I hopped on one of the buses they had ready to go to a Tibetan lunch.

As the bus rolled along through the Long Beach neighborhoods to who-knows-where, PM said, "what if this isn't really taking us to a Tibetan lunch. What if we were duped?"

D and I laughed.

The air had changed to one of those glorious So. Cal days where the sky is blue, there is a Pacific Ocean breeze and the temperature is perfect.

The lunch was delicious.
D had seen the Dalai Lama before.
She, like PM had I, had high expectations of being transformed.
And like us, didn't feel like she had been.
But later, she would be in a more intimate setting with him, and she said, you couldn't help but feel his zen-ness. You couldn't help but be energized in his presence.
A friend of mine's sister also had an opportunity to be up close with him and said the same thing.
But in the grand setting with hundreds of people, I wasn't picking up on that.

We headed back for the second half of the day.

When we entered the arena this time, there was a camera man shooting us as they poured water into our hands. I was unclear what to do with it.

I nearly splashed it on my face as I was trying to look around to see what everyone else was doing and I finally had to ask. You drink it, I found out.
It was anointed from the Dalai Lama himself.

Part of me hoped that the water would enlighten me in a way the first lecture hadn't.

The second part of the lecture was about letting us into the Buddhist version of Heaven.
Or at least I think that is what it was.

We were starting to grow restless as he continued to speak Tibetan with the now-fatigued translator.

We left before it was over.

Traffic back to LA wasn't bad.

D had bought PM and me key chains as mementos and I also purchased a gorgeous ring.

As I sat in the car admiring my ring, I realized that no one can enlighten me to the extent that my expectations were hoping for.

I have to do that. For myself.

But I don't know if I would have figured it out had I not realized how much I wanted it to come from someone else.

So in essence, seeing him was life changing.

Or at least thought changing.

And sometimes, everything can change with just a single thought.

Several years ago, a psychic told me that I was going to become a medium for the dead.
It left me uneasy.

I believe there are spirits all around us.
Sometimes, I can sense them.

But the idea of the dead talking to me to give messages to the living or vice versa, freaked me out.

And the freaking was accentuated by the fact that I was supposed to see "The Shining" at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery as their last film of the outdoor summer series.

I didn't end up going that night.

Phew. No dead beings to communicate with me during a film about a boy who can.

And I didn't end up being a medium.

Double phew. No dead beings to communicate with me when there are plenty of folks who can.

But that didn't stop me from going in following years to see films in the cemetery.

It's a lot of fun.

Picnic blankets, wafting herb, lots of people watching, DJs, good films and just a general sense of summer and community.

And the movies I saw were never scary.
So the idea that I was among the dead watching fun films like Easy Rider didn't even faze me.

Last week, I was exhausted.

I wanted to be around people. But I didn't want to do a lot of planning.

The answer came when the Goddess Christine invited me to join her and her friends at the cemetery to see "Rosemary's Baby", a film I had never seen but I knew was about a devil baby.

My thoughts wandered to the prescient news the psychic gave me.

Would this movie be the moment that I become a medium?
Would I be freaked out by its horror factor?
I decided to risk it.

Earlier on Saturday, I had gotten a vm from Jazzy that Party-man Derek was in town and there was another Malibu party.

I love those parties.

But I was in a much more intimate place.

I met the Goddess Christine and her pals in Los Feliz where we carpooled to the Cemetery.
We got there with plenty of time to set up camp, eat the delicious food that both GC and Jean had made/brought.

Yummer nummer.

The wine flowed in me faster than I realized and I was tipsy pretty early on.

As the sun set and the colorful sky silhoutted the towering palm trees, I was feeling pretty fine.

When the movie began, I was all satiated and ready.

What. A. Treat.

I didn't know it was a comedy.

Ha...maybe when you watch it in a large outdoor group of inebriated people, it feels like one.

Ruth Gordon was brilliant. She is my new hero.

The movie had a lot of laughs, both intentional and not.

And I loved seeing the exterior shots of the Dakota but I couldn't help thinking about the tragedy that would later occur there.

When the movie ended, our little picnic tribe decamped quicker than you could say "ADRIAN" and we were in our cars waiting to drive out past all the tombstones.

It was a perfect night.

Well, maybe not for Rosemary. It sucks to give birth to the son of Satan but eh, what are you gonna do?

I was happy that not one dead person spoke to me.

Or if they did, I mistook them for human and passed them some chips.

Let's hope that isn't true.
Although I live in Hollywood, I truly hope I can tell the living from the dead.
Even if it is a slippery slope at times.

In between my adventures, I stumbled.
I used to stumble a lot.
And have bad thoughts. Destructive thoughts.

Those particular thoughts stopped 3 years ago when a friend of mine took her destruction too far and we lost her.

And I knew those thoughts weren't anything I could ever consider again.

Which made living tough.
Because I would have to find alternate ways to deal with life and its sundries.

And even though things would get rocky, I learned how to muddle through.
I have been impressed with my ability to wrangle the emotions, keep them in their place and learn how to ride the wave of emotions that I surf sometimes.

But this week has played a number on me.

Yesterday was the first day those destructive thoughts re-emerged.

And I knew that I was walking a fine line.

One thing I have learned in my experience is that nothing is permanent.
Not the good and not the bad.

But if you have a fragile soul and a propensity to indulge in the dark side, you forget that.

I, however, didn't forget that yesterday.
Even in my blueness, I was aware that I could ride this out.
My only problem was I couldn't do it alone.

There are only 3 friends in my life who truly know me.
Who have seen through my facades; have seen me at my worst.
Which for someone like me who lives in various roles, is the most vulnerable thing to expose.

One of those friends reached out to me last night.

When I arrived at her place in the Miracle Mile, I was broken.

It sounds so melodramatic.
And it is.
Because I am.
I own that.
It doesn't make what I feel less true.
It just makes me harder to take seriously.

Within an hour in her presence and the understanding of her husband to give us our space, I was already feeling better. She claims it was the wine. But I know better.

We walked to an Indian restaurant across from the El Rey and gabbed about our love for Wilshire Blvd. as an impressive time capsule of LA history.

Drinking indian beer, reminiscing about some of the zany stories and colorful characters we have encountered, I was back to normal.
Or some form of it.

Blisters on our feet precluded us from wandering over to LACMA to see the gorgeous lights, but I wasn't feeling the pain anymore.

I will always try and outrun my blues.
But sometimes they do catch up with me.

I am just blessed and grateful I know how to wrangle them.
And that I have the kind of friends who can wrangle them for me when I have lost my lasso... and my way.

Thank you Mads! You are an angel.

When I get excited about something, I take on promoting it like it's my job.

When someone goes with me to the Hollywood YMCA, I love giving the tour and seeing my guests' faces light up at the wonder of the gym. You would think that I have stake in the place by the way I take such pride in showing it off.

When I have new people to show LA off to, my arm is constantly moving like a game show hostess presenting this building and that street as I spout off facts I have collected about each thing we pass as if I would be tested on the information later.

You can feel that same passion when I turn someone on to my night lifestyle; whether it's music, the downtown art scene, comedy, exclusive parties or a new dessert place.

I have known Leigh since we were 5 years old.
We are practically sisters.
But our lives are very different.
She is married and has a beautiful little toddler and she just bought a house.
I am constantly dating, don't want kids and live in a 1920s rented Hollywood apartment.
She is usually in bed at the hour I am heading out the door for my "other" non-9-5 non-daytime life.

I turned her on to the Ruby Friedman Orchestra (RFO) a few months ago.
When Leigh doesn't like something, she doesn't mince words.
She just tells you.
And on the flip side, if she likes something, you know she ain't lying.
And she really liked Ruby's music.
Whenever I go over to Leigh's we put it on and dance with her toddler.

It was my pleasure then, when she let me know that she wanted to go to the next RFO show. Her husband wanted to go as well but bowed out for babysitting duty so she could join me.

After work, she met me at my place, where we headed to dinner and then to my new obsession, Yogurtland in Hollywood.
She fell in love with the pistachio and I fell in love with the fact the guy only charged us for one yogurt cuz he was jabbering to his friends (a whole lotta dessert for two people for $2.65...woo hoo!)

After we sang the praises of Yougurtland's bounty, we boogied on over to the Echo.

We got rock star parking right in front and headed inside.

I liked the band that was playing.
But when they were told their time was up, they continued to play a few more songs.
Grrrrr. They cut into the RFO's time.

Plus, I was anxious for Leigh to hear Ruby's voice live.

When Ruby and Company finally took to the stage and the music began, Leigh smiled at me and I knew the ride had started.

During one of my favorite ballads, this yahoo near us was trying to impress some girl and was yakkity yakkiting very loudly.
I gave him several looks of disapproval, as did Leigh.

The girl he was all hands-y with wasn't talking but just listening to him.
He was the usual Beta Boy I have dated occasionally that you typically find in Echo Park or Silver Lake (probably a musician or a roommate of one).
The girl was smiling but was trying to listen to the music as was everyone else around us.

The guy next to Leigh and me finally let out a big "SHHHHH" to him.

And then the next thing I know...they are full on arguing in each others' faces.

"People want to hear her. I want to hear her. I can't because you are talking sooo loud," the guy next to me said to Beta Boy.

The girl, now with wide eyes and a goofy smile watched both men argue as if she were watching a movie. I felt like I was watching one myself.

Leigh and I kept looking at each other, up at the stage and then at the boys being driven to the point of raised voices.

Then the guy next to us says, "you know what dude? I am missing Ruby so I am letting this go"

The weirdest thing was when I looked back at them during a more up tempo song, Beta Boy was bouncing up and down looking as if he was totally into the music.

WTF? I have no idea what switch had flipped or if he was being a smart ass but at some point, there he was...dancing and smiling.
And then, just as suddenly...he was gone.

But the girl was still there.

And now she was talking with the guy who had originally shushed Beta Boy.

I think at one point the Shusher had his arm around her waist.
She seemed to take a very love-the-one-you're-with approach to life.

Leigh said, "if that guy hadn't shushed Beta Boy, I would have. If you don't wanna hear the music, fine...take it outside because we ALL want to hear the music. That is what I would have told him."

Despite this little side theater, the RFO was amazing.

"There are 5 guys behind her, and all I was watching was her. She has such presence," Leigh said.

I told her that out of all the times I have seen the band, this was the first time I noticed how hot the drummer is. And the awesome abs he has. I too am usually mesmerized just by her presence and voice. But yeah, the members in her band are flipping talented and they all work telepathically off one another so it works like one. And they are cute!

They had to cut their set shorter than usual for time and Leigh was bummed that she didn't hear more. "Can't she just sing as long as she wants?" she asked me.

I laughed.

After the show, I introduced Leigh to Dire McCain (the gorgeous editor of Paraphilia Magazine) and Richard Meade (a fantastic photographer). We chatted briefly and then headed out into the night air, where we saw Mademoiselle Friedman and congratulated her on an amazing show.

As we drove back to my place, we laughed about the strange vignette of testosterone we had witnessed earlier as well as our thoughts on the show in general (blah blah more praise towards Ruby's features and voice).

I never used to be able to convince Leigh to join me for my night life.

But this is not the last show of the RFO she will see. She wants to go to the next one and is trying to find a babysitter so her husband can join us too.
Plus, she also wants to go back to Yogurtland.

My job as the promoter of my current excitements was done for the evening.

It was a success.

And successes drive me to the point of doing it all over again.

Which, no doubt, I will.

When I was little and living in LA, my dad lived in another city.
We would visit him during the vacations.

One of our phone calls before a visit, he told me that he had just moved into a house.
It was underground.

I couldn't believe it.
I had thoughts of tunnels and no outside light.
I pictured us living like moles, running around with flashlights. I was pretty excited.

When I finally visited him and saw the house, it wasn't at all like I had pictured.

It was as if a hole was dug in the ground and a house was plopped in that hole.
The walls were rocks and curved up towards street level.
It was all windows.
Windows and rocks and foliage all around us. And that was on the inside.

I was kind of disappointed at first because it wasn't what I had imagined.

But after staying there a night or two, I found it to be better.
I mean, it was actually gorgeous.
When I think now about what I had originally pictured, I laugh and shudder at the same time.
Who would want to live in tunnels all the time? Who did I think we were? Miners?

My dad lived there for several years. It is still one of the most unique homes I have ever seen and I am grateful that I got to experience living in it.

The memories my family made there are some of my fondest of childhood.

This weekend reminds me of those same kind of false high expectations...and letting them go.

Nothing went as planned this weekend.
Nothing.

Every expectation plummeted into flames at warp speed and left me shaking my head each time.

I thought I was on a Cosmic Punk'd.

I don't buy that you aren't supposed to have expectations.
Some people say that if you don't have them, you can never be disappointed.

I don't agree.

But I do believe that you need to have a go-with-the-flow attitude about your expectations.

This weekend, I was disappointed in a few things that never took place and also upon hearing news I would have rather not have heard.

But lemons to lemonade, clouds and their silver linings, darkest before the dawns platitudes aside, with a little time to settle into the adjustments, it turned out to be a very great weekend.

Lots of emotion.
Lots of reflection.
Some tears.
Lots of laughing.
And a surprising feeling of calm by Sunday evening.

As a kid, my expectation of the "underground" house was replaced with something better.

I am glad I had the wisdom at that age to understand that expectation shift, so I could appreciate the reality.

I am glad I still do.

If you are new to knowing me, I am sensitive.
I am strong, opinionated, wise, funny, confident, insecure and everything in between.
I am also incredibly sensitive.
And while I mean that in the form of being easy to hurt sometimes, I also mean it in the way that I am very very quick to pick up on vibes around me and people's states of being.

I have been learning not to take on everyone's shit but the fact is that I still feel it.

From an astrological perspective, we are heading into a tornado of emotions.

Fabulous.

Everyone is on edge.
Call it Mercury Retrograde, the health care debate, the 9/11 remembrance, being sick of the Retarderatti we see photographed ad nauseum, the way Facebook can make you constantly reignite things from your past and present that you didn't think were there and cause you to feel like you are comparing yourself to EVERYONE you ever knew, the Swine flu...whatever we want to call it...people are strange at the moment.

I almost feel like I am in a zombie movie.
But one where the zombies move really fast and say lucid things.

So amidst the zombie dodgings, I am enjoying the events life throws at me.

The fondue party was AMAZING! Lara's friends are nothing but fun. I found my ilk quite fast and we discussed past lives, ghost encounters, and the kind of sex talk (like who swallows or the various positions and partners and sometimes the kind of orgies everyone had had) that you can only do with strangers that you feel an immediate kindred spirit to.

Today I will be catching up on the navel gazing I missed out on last week and the repositioning my own thoughts back to their "pencils down, heads up" position of alertness, because as Leo reminded me...this next week is going to be a doozy.

"If people aren't acting like themselves, just be aware that it's not personal, but that we are all in this weird energy next week," he told me.

See, zombie movie.
Or Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, if you wanna be glass half full.
And I do. Wanna be glass half full.

So as I partake of the fun activities on deck: a show of the RFO, a date with a far-too-young-for-me-fellar, belly dancing, possible band meeting and some more socializing and shows, I will imagine myself with George Carlin as my Jimminy Cricket guiding me through the wilderness of next week's "odd behavior."

Prepare for the ride.

The Excellent Excellent ride.

And we'll compare notes on the other side.

3-2-1...

Being from LA, I get laughs from transplants when I say that LA has a special smell around fall; around Halloween. I just reply back that if they don't smell it yet, then they don't know the nuances of LA's "seasons". We have them. You just have to be a little more sensitive to them.

You don't get the changing color of the leaves or the drastic temperature drop like I knew from the time I lived in Portland, OR. But you do get a smell from a change in air quality.

This year, despite the fires, it's there.

And speaking of the fires, they wreaked havoc on my lungs.
I left LA for Labor Day with the coughing that a reprieve allows.
I headed to Phoenix to visit my dad and his new girlfriend.

As luck would have it, SG was also in Phoenix visiting her friends the same weekend. These friends had a backyard pool which looked like the one in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High" and was the center point for the awesome party/bbq that was being thrown.

I met soooo many great people and despite having lost my voice almost entirely, I was still trying to hold party court like the peacock I am. There are pictures...which will be blackmail fodder some day.
And none of us were immune from the material.

Upon my return to LA, the fires were only 56% contained and it was still quite warm out.
But the quality in the air had changed.
It was already starting to smell like fall.
As I stood waiting for the shuttle to take me to my car at Burbank Airport, I closed my eyes and let the weekend with all the ups and downs wash over me.

I desperately wanted to sleep this week and really sit with the thoughts swirling in my head, but my social calendar kept me hopping in a big way: box seats for a concert at the Hollywood Bowl; a screening at KABoss's place of her 9 year old son's "premiere" of his "movie" of what he shot all day long with his new camera; dinner and brunch with various friends; watching a friend of mine's late night comedy act down the street from me; Art Walk with PM and her really cool friends and then tonight...a fondue party!!!! Nothing says fall like a fondue party.

Well, actually a lot of things say fall, more than fondue but when I mentioned at work that I was going to a fondue party, I was told, "it's not cold enough out yet" which leads me to believe it's not normal summer fare; and therefore more a autumnesqe dinnerish gathering.

What perfect timing...I can see no better way to usher in the nuance in the air that tells me that Fall is on the horizon.

It's just an inhale and a melted cheese party away.

It's hot here folks.
And there is a sort of strange anger and loneliness in the air.
People are doing their best to pretend it's not there.
But it's palpable.
Or maybe it's just me.

For all the sunshine, there sure are a lot of interesting angles of disdain around me.

I didn't think I was really absorbing it but my psychic (yeah, I claim her as mine) mentioned that I have an anger buried deep which is keeping me from success.

"An ANGER! I don't have ANGER anymore," I snarled.
She totally believed me.
Not.

But she did say that for all my gifts, I was supposed to focus on photography at the moment.
Which is good, because it brings me joy.
And when people are wearing their hearts on their sleeves as they have been of late, it makes for better photo ops.

It's not all bad news by the way. My life, I mean.
I enjoy LA in a way that few do and it revs me up.
After my tourist jaunt on Sunday with Ange, which took us from Santee Alley to Hollywood by way of Griffith Park, we both marveled at this town.

By the end of the evening, however, Ange proclaimed she was "knackered" and I knew it was time to bring Cinderella home.

Last night, was the night-tour of establishments with one bathroom stall!

My dad was in town for the evening and it was the first meeting of the new girlfriend.
I have had a lifetime of meeting his fabulous girlfriends but the months preceding this meeting were laced with conflict. Color me tired from being the daughter who smiles and appears interested each and every time, getting attached and then having to move on yet again when the next one appears.
But my dad was insistent that I meet her.

So, last night, we headed to Don Cuco's. The air was balmy and my dad and Meems looked and appeared like they had known each other a long time. She was very nice and interesting and quite stunning actually. They drank soda water and I downed my margarita.
I was surprised that there was only one stall in the restroom.
But the lines to pee allowed who was ever still at the table to be able to check in as to how the "meeting" was going.

I would call it a success.

I dropped them back off at their hotel and then I boogied on to the 3 Clubs in Hollywood to catch a late night show of the Ruby Friedman Orchestra (whose song "Shooting Stars" has been on the recent NBC promo for "America's Got Talent"!)

The last two times I had stepped foot in 3 Clubs had been memorable.
One night, Mads, Ennui and I crashed someone's birthday party.
Bobby Lee of Mad TV was there and was smitten with Ennui. Which led to the phrase we would say for a spell thereafter: "Bobby Lee Loves You."
We soon had to drop it as it usually didn't make sense when used.

The other time in the recent-ish past I was there, Mads and I spotted Angelyne. She was there with her requisite young man stud, looking like a strange old/young Barbie doll. Mads dared me to compliment her. I tried when I ran into her in the bathroom but was caught off guard by her inch thick support pantyhose gathering wrinkles around her ankles while she glared and harumphed at me as I said hello.

Last night, I stepped foot inside the club prepared to be making another memory.

The stage was quite small and the band overflowed off of it. It made for a very intimate setting. There was a serene mania (if that juxtaposition can be understood) to the vibe. This band is on the brink of exploding. It's pretty cool to be able to see them at a cozy show like last night where the audience in rapt attention was very aware not to crowd the stage but to also find a spot near them so they could absorb Ruby and the Orchestra in all in its full engine.

There was a lot of love and support in the room and it made me realize that maybe everyone isn't so lonely and angry after all. In fact, there was a lot of goodness floating around that bar.

After the show, I ran into Ruby in the restroom (no 'Nam flashback of Angelyne and her nylons occurred - ha) and again...one frigging bathroom stall!

Ruby introduced me as the one that writes the Mermaid Journal to a friend of hers. She laughed as she realized her mistake. A mythical, ethereal vision came to my mind. It was then replaced with the visual of me being under water holding my breath trying to hold a pen and paper and suddenly the beautiful poetic image was replaced with a more comical one. It made me chuckle.

The air still hanging hot even close to midnight as I headed home began to feel a little lighter. Not cooler; just lighter.

As I rested my head on the pillow to drift into my Mermaid dream world, I heard scattered laughter outside my window.

It made me smile.
And I decided...my psychic was not right about me being angry.
But I TOTALLY think she was right about all the good things she said.

An angry person wouldn't focus on the good like that, right?

Right.

Do you ever feel like you are playing Jenga?
With your own life?
Not in an overly dramatic way, but more in the way that you keep piling it on. And you are hesitant to take something away, lest...JENGA...and it all topples.

In another life of mine like 4 years ago, I felt like the Jenga game in my life was piles of negative.

But lately, I have been playing Jenga in a good way, what with the Girl Band, comedy, dating, photography, etc. I have been doing. And it doesn't seem like it's going to stop any time soon.

I do know that I have been having fun.

So it's not like I am looking to take ANYTHING away from the tower. Like you do in Jenga.
But life takes care of that for you sometimes. And if it falls, you pick up the pieces and start again.

Which is fine because rebuilding can be just as therapeutic as building it the first time.

I started dating a guy who was all the things I thought I wanted: handsome, attentive, communicative, interested, gentlemanly, etc., but the chemistry wasn't right and man, having to end that took a little emotional toll on me that I wasn't prepared for.

But better to nip that kind of thing in the bud. Discomfort isn't something I like wearing as much as i used to.

I also happened to see Leo again. Leo's band played a gig and I played photographer



They were great and I got to witness some fans out front gushing about Leo's mad guitar skillz.

At another show, I also got to witness yet again the brilliance that is the Ruby Friedman Orchestra.
It was steamy and crowded in the Echo on Sunday night. I found a space at the back. Her energy was white hot and the band never sounded better.


(this is a shot I took from an RFO show back in May)

Looking lovely, she sang an old song that was new to her recent fans and it made this mermaid tear up at one point. I used to try and figure out why these live shows from the RFO move me to the point of teenage giddy girl heights, but I have just decided to not ask why anymore. Instead, I just enjoy, am present and allow myself to be moved by the experience.

After the show, perhaps because of the energy from the stage, I bounced over to Mr. Blondie where we had a very nice chat. We were friendly with each other and it made me feel very peaceful.

I was content that with both Leo and Mr. Blondie that I could emerge from the weekend with a happy glow from our interactions, still having my boundaries in tact. For the most part.

Kind of funny how having a different perspective can make you feel like you are experiencing something for the first time.

In the recent past, I also had the opportunity to perform yet again in a show of the Goddess Christine's creation. Comedy Klatch at Bang theater was a few weeks ago, and I read an essay that incorporated some song and humor. I was nervous, as I tend to get reading something new but I was also anxious to see if the piece would even work. Goddess Christine calls it Kara-Essay...I think. OR is it Essay-oke? Hmmmm...can't remember. But she liked it and my piece went over well and I felt as comfortable and hammy as ever!

If you want to check it out, I was very blessed to have Marica loan me the camera and have Mads tape it from the front row (and not without some pre-show technical drama that she worked out like a pro).

http://youtube.com/kirstelisa

The piece is called "That Girl."

After the show, Reb, Mads, Jazzy, Louis and I went to the Kibitz Room to Kibitz in our own Vodka Klatch about me, life and everything in between.

And now it is already the middle of August.

And in addition to all these adventures, I have started belly dancing again!!!!

Um, yeah...the tower is pretty tall. JENGA! might happen sooner than later.

But it's just a game. Like life. And no better time to enjoy playing it than the present.

When I was little, I would spend the summers at my dad's where there was a pool, lots of candy and a ton of kids to play with. The only job we had to do was wake up, swim, eat, watch tv, go to the movies, eat, swim, sleep, repeat.

Rough life.

The closest thing in recent years to that kind of vacation bliss was the trips I would take to Phoenix the past few years when my sister and her family would come to my dad's and we would pretty much do the same routine.

But this year she isn't coming.

And finances being what they are, a weeklong trip of hedonism seems a little unlikely.
So you take your vacations where you can.

This heat makes it easy to shed the clothes but the being at work part of NOT being on vacation makes you realize shedding clothes isn't admired by EVERYONE, like Human Resources.

There must be a balance.
And lord knows I know nothing about balance but a girl's gotta try.

Or at least pretend to.
OR...you get a call to participate in a little weekend getaway that reminds you that you really needed some time off.

Last week, the fabulous Sarah Grace made her annual trip for Comic-Con to California. Last year, she came to LA and we whooped it up with the Mortified people and her writer friends as we dallied our way across Hollywood and its environs.

This year, she went straight to San Diego, before the madness started.
I called it "Before the Con."

She asked if I wanted to drive to meet her.
And swim by the pool, drinking wine and going to restaurants, all while catching up.
Pull my arm...

It was just what I wanted. What I needed.

Sitting by the pool, wandering around the Gas Lamp district and performing inside jokes for one another in the humid San Diego air while anticipation of the oncoming crowds seemed to hang over the shops and cafes, I felt like I had been away for a week.

SG challenged me to use the phrase "my band" in as many sentences as I could since she was amused at the idea of me starting a band as much as my co-worker Ange (who said, "I can't wait for the day I stop laughing when you say "my band").

I rose to the challenge and we laughed and laughed, reminding me of why we were friends in the first place.

When I came back to LA, I met up with Nally, my bassist in MY BAND, to see The Hangover, which I LOVED!!!! We were two of probably 5 of the last people to not have yet seen it.

I felt refreshed.

Like I had been on vacation.

Oh right...I sort of had been.

It wasn't the same as jumping in a pool in the hot desert evening, or lounging around for days on end in a living room eating chips and watching tv marathons, but the little time warp I found myself in was a mini version that had the same results.

Not too shabby.

Maybe MY BAND and I will write a song about it some day.

Sounds like a hit. Oh yes it does.

People love to comment to me that I have a lot of great experiences.
That I get to have a lot of beginnings.
Which is true.
But I also have a lot of endings because the shelf-life for my experiences varies.
It's very circular.
It's very cosmic.
It's very exciting.
And it can also be sad.
But it's a combination of what life hands me and what I choose.
And I guess lately, since I choose the adventure card each and every time, I also deal in a high risk game of many possible outcomes; one of which is endings.

I was very excited to bring PM to the Mint to see the Ruby Friedman Orchestra. PM reviews bands for a living so I felt especially excited to hear what she would say.
We ran into Mr. Blondie after he had emailed me during the day to tell me he would be there.
I must admit, it was a little difficult for me considering he will always have a piece of me.
He uses words so beautifully, that it has the same effect as a siren song to me.
But when you know the ending to your own vignette, you can't pretend it will be different.
So I needed to resist any kind of desire I felt bubble up in me.

Ruby rocked the house, per usual and really shone up on that stage.
She sang a new song called "Strings", and I swear, during one point in the song when the lyrics spoke of being released and being free, she was singing it right to me.
It looked that way anyway.
After the show, the lovely chanteuese confirmed it by saying, "Did you see me rocking with you, girl?"
I nodded like the little girl I am.
She puts on a show like a tent revival and I was glad I was witness.
I was correct...PM enjoyed the band!

After the show, we spoke a little with Mr. Blondie. As PM and I started to part ways with him, he squeezed my hand and I knew that our ride (his and mine) was over.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that.
I mean, I felt good that I was in a better, healed place but it's hard to leave someone so charismatic behind you who had played a featured role in your life.

PM and I left the Mint and headed downtown to the Garden Party where we ran into my friend Nally who is gathering together all the puzzle pieces for our band.
Oh, did I mention, we are starting a band?
We are.
And with the voltage that Nally and I are putting out, we are collecting our support: the gig, the booker, the reviewer, the discount recording studio rate, the rehearsal space, the lyricists, etc.
Nally's enthusiasm is inspiring and together, she and I are bringing forth something very fun.

The Garden Party was awesome as usual.

Last night, on a warm summer evening, Leo came to pick me up for another adventure.

Our plans were loose, so I suggested that we head to the beach.
Being the adventure buddy he is, he responded with a "Hell Yeah."

We went for a drink and chatted among the drunks (one of whom complimented Leo's Beatles "Let it Be" t-shirt in a very long, slurry way) and the passionate debators.

At one point, I brought up the elephant in the room to Leo which is the same elephant I had with Boro and Mr. Blondie. He isn't into commitment and I am.

The fact that our discussion was filled with compliments and mutual admiration for one another didn't surprise me since Leo is an amazing communicator but it did reinforce that he is exactly the kind of guy I want to be with...except for the not liking monogamy part.

What followed was a pretty magical night of looking at stars from the sand, some amazing dialogue and really tender embraces.

On the way back to the car, I stopped in a little liquor store right near the boardwalk to buy a postcard. He bought one too and later we wrote our good-byes to each other on them.

It sounds dramatic.
I guess it may be a tad.
It sounds sad.
But it wasn't.
It was really awesome.

Truth is, however, that it was another ending.
And just when I thought I couldn't handle another one, I learned how to handle it with the greatest of ease.
And just when I thought walking away from Mr. Blondie was hard, walking away from something far more mutually respectful turned out to be very empowering.

If I have learned anything in this great cycle of things, endings happen.
But so do beginnnings.
And if you are doing it right, the seams fall away, blending the moments into one experience of just simply...living your life.

And if I forget that endings can be just as heady as the beginnings, I have a postcard to remind me.