Thursday, April 27, 2006

23 days

Has it been that long since I posted? Wow. Hail Eris. Is it only because I have so little to report? Let's see- what has gone on? I officially made my last payment on the debt I'd been chipping away at since about 2001, so that was good. Brandy and I are wrapping up work on Loose Women of Low Character, which is also a nice thing. I had the chance to see Mary and Aaron working on David Adriana's new video in a crazy haunted mansion in Pasadena, which was also really special. And I went to my first yoga class in eons and had a completely enlightening experience and am determined to make it a habit.

Less fantastical is my right eye. I discovered I have somehow wreaked havoc upon my cornea and must wear glasses and pray it normalizes and my vision goes back to "normal" which for me still translates to pretty much blind, but not as blind as I am right now. So that's been a drag, but on the grand scale of calamities befalling other people in the world, eh, not so bad. Plus my sexy librarian glasses are kind of fun.

I have been undertaking geneological research on some branches of my family that have always been a great mystery, and the process has been painstaking but very interesting so far. I hope someday to be able to tell my parents where in the world we hail from. It's quickly becoming an obsession. Census records are strangely fascinating.

My sweet Sam is in Russia, which makes me super lonely, but he comes back for almost two weeks on Monday and we will get to be together for our 2nd anniversary, so that makes me happy. And the sun is starting to shine more here. I have a serious craving for the desert, though. My body longs to be not just tepid or warm, but downright toasty. Hot, even. I never would have guessed how much I would come to miss New Mexican weather. Seasons are a good thing, I think.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006


I got to go make a little presentation at this place for my work. Located in downtown LA, it's called the Jonathan Club, and the building dates from the 1920's. The staff dresses traditionally and there is a strict dress code for admittance. I even wore pantyhose. Eww. It's a ridiculously gorgeous building, and the club manager was quite nice. We've designed many interior areas of the club and now we're to redo the grill room, and it will be lovely. Unfortunately, we have to leave the club member caricatures up on the otherwise classy wood paneling. Each one features a balding white man with silver hair, clutching a golf club or behatted with a jaunty nautical cap. Quite ridiculous, if you ask me.

Interestingly enough, there is an associated beach club a few blocks from my house that I've often walked by and wished I could lounge at, behind the glistening glass walls. No can do, without a member sponsorship. And something tells me I simply will not come to know any of its golf loving white bred members, nor would I want to. While there, I got the quick and dirty tour of the ballrooms filled with creepy portraits of republican presidents, gigantic oil paintings of the SoCal coast, and magnificent chandeliers.

Just as I thought that it was the perfect place for a haunting, and it was odd that it felt so blank, I was shown the library. As we stood at the door, my guide and I were reflected in a giant mirror across the room. He drew in a breath and said, "My ghost is back." He pointed to the chandelier nearest us. "See?" He was quite serious, and the light began going on and off, as if trying to communicate in Morse code. I would have thought he was pulling my leg if he had not had such a serious look about him. "Say hello," he said. After I did, more light blinking ensues. "He likes you. Go ahead and go in."

Something told me I should pass on it, but I didn't. As I went in, the lanky bespectacled library attendant, looking like something from a Sandman comic, slithered out of the room as if he did not want to be there for this one. As soon as I was in the room, the atmosphere felt completely different from the outside rooms. And I kind of felt like I walked into someone's space. Like they were standing in front of me and I walked INTO them. I was embarrassed, actually. So I just took a step back and then headed back into the corridor. All I could say was "Interesting." And then we dropped the subject and talked about the new carpets and upholstery.