Despite my protestations at the endless shopping and mass shoppers, this Monday morning, it is sad to see Santa’s House being deconstructed and the lights un-strung from above. Though the Christmas break meant the less traditional fare of Thai food and Chinese Fondue, more tourists than locals and hours of Xbox, it was one of the best.
I hope everyone is recovering from the holidays! Looking forward to the New Year and it’s extravagant celebration!!
Fucking hell it’s been busy. Too busy. Too cold. Then it was hot. Then it was windy. Then it was windy and COLD. I just can’t keep up anymore with the weather here, and with the mandatory shopping underway, Christmas is still less a jolly holiday than a requisite and painful issue at the end of the year. So I’ve been busy – so much so that I just bought my tree last night. When I brought it up the stairs to my apartment, I broke my gothic neighbor’s plant pot by knocking it to the floor with the wooden stand attached to the evergreen. My neighbor, who hates me and has hung a black wreath with skulls on her front door, well, this will not be warming the cockles of her heart. So I left a note. I think she’s on holiday because I haven’t seen her. Thank God. So, with the outcome of that soon to be pleasant situation hanging in the air, the wind has returned this morning with vigor and the changing weather brings with it a myriad of colors in the sky and an awesome sunrise. Here is the view from this morning, which I took while standing in the near freezing wind:
It’s rained for hours now, heaving cold drops that make you shiver just by opening the front door, but it’s a rare occurrence that I celebrate by sitting in the rain with an umbrella. I’m excited about more than the rain though, because in a few hours I’ll be experiencing the best part about working in a corporate office – the Christmas party. Rain or not, I’m headed out in my best dress and brightest red lipstick. Let’s party. It’s a winter wonderland – with butterflies, angels, vodka, snow and Santa.
I think my initial hesitation about wearing shoes that truly belong in the nineties is starting to wane. I’m gonna run with this particular nostalgic trend. I’ve been beat to it anyway, so I’m not alone here. PAR EXEMPLE:
Lyman Frank Baum may as well have named his famous story The Wizard of Oz: chasing a dream in Los Angeles. It’s weird, it’s disorienting, you meet strange people, and you definitely get the sense that yes, you might not be in Kansas anymore. It makes sense then, that during a visit through the Hollywood hills I’d find what I consider a eulogy to the enigmatic story and entertain the possibility of confronting an eccentric hermit. I am interested in what reasoning/motivation results in small plastic toys tethered to concrete as a presentation piece in front of your house. e.g.:
Over the Thanksgiving weekend, I fully intended NOT to watch the wunderkind that is the Twilight series, holding on to some principle that getting on the bandwagon is usually not a good idea and can result in a myriad of regrets. I don’t think I have to really elaborate here (like how I watched the movie everyday since Black Friday, then watched the commentary, bought the books, googled everyone, read their interviews, and listened to the soundtrack), you know where I’m going. I got on the wagon and I’m driving at full-speed. Though I cannot tolerate the knowledge that somehow Bella turns into a whining, stupid, naïve girl in book three, I am compelled to go there because I need to know what happens. I need details, and I need them now. I feel like I’m watching Romeo & Juliet for the first time – Will they? Won’t they? PLEASE LET IT ALL WORK OUT. TOGETHER4EVER.
Then last night I met some people, we had something to drink and I asked about Twilight: “Oh I hate Kristen Stewart as Bella, I have a friend who was up for that part, it was between Kristen and her, and she at least was relatable.” Agh. Whatever.
The discussion weaned away from Twilight and the multifarious possible actor/film/director choices to talk about making a living, and more about actors (because almost everyone there was, had been, or wanted to be at one time). In fact, several actors there had auditioned in front of the casting director that I was now talking to: “When you tell someone what you do, people in L.A. never actually believe you. In New York, if you say you’re an actor, there’s some credibility to that.”
And finally we discussed the holidays. A friend mused humorously about his Thanksgiving dinner with friends and acquaintances, during which he was told by a fellow dinner guest in an excited and possibly concerned manner, “OH MY GOD, you are so skinny!” while ironically holding only a salad.
My head might hurt this morning because either:
a) I’m too punch-drunk on twilight and its brood and I’ve overindulged
b) The particular vernacular of L.A. always sets in a certain depression(we’re all TRYING TO MAKE IT)
c) Obviously, I had WAY too much to drink last night. i.e. I might still be drunk (I stumbled and fell over when I got out of bed this morning).
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 