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Palm Springs Beckons
It's that time of year again... White Party Palm Springs. It's like my own private Super Bowl except this year I'm not on staff and left to fend for myself. I'm on red alert and my cohorts in crime seem oblivious to the severity of our situation, but that's a story for another time. At this time last year I was informed that the love of my life had contracted HIV. That news by itself was a major shock to me; however, what really dealt the death blow was the fact that he had kept the news from me for TWO YEARS! As if that wasn't bad enough, I was the very last person to be enlightened. That entire time, all of our common friends had been instructed to keep me in the dark. It was the final straw for me. I realized that no matter how high a road I took, this person would always find new ways to hurt me without even trying. He never wanted to hurt me and managed to do an Olympic job of it anyway. That I can do without. So I dropped him. After a very classy yelling match in the hallways of the Palm Springs Wyndham at two in the morning I never spoke with him again. At the same time I cut off communication with my friend, Jared, because I couldn't bear another moment of his constant judgment and disapproval. It didn't hurt that my boy was madly in love with him, either. If I do manage to make my way to Palm Springs next month it is almost inconceivable that I will miss the both of them and I have no idea how I will deal with them. Odds are I will be higher than Tibet when that happens and I tend to shed resentment in that state. Very annoying. I need a speech. The "ice, ice baby" routine is simply insufficient.
On Saturday I met my friend Michael and some of his pals from San Francisco for drinks out in WeHo. Once they left for the St. Etienne concert at Avalon, I made my way to Micky's for my standard night out fare. It was really too early to be out. The dance floor doesn't even open until nine or ten. I sat patiently on the patio with a Mandarin cosmo and a full pack of smokes to bide my time. Then there was this cute guy in front of me. He was talking with two other guys, but they didn't appear to be together. At least, I hoped not because it looked like they were leaving and I really wanted to chat this guy up. He must have noticed me checking him out. He walked right up to me as soon as the other guys left. In a situation like this I usually find myself struggling to make conversation that is engaging without scaring them away. In this case there was no work involved at all. Really all I had to work on was keeping my enthusiasm in check. It was obvious to me from first sight that he was more than just cute. He was fun and smart and best of all - in to me. We both wanted to dance. Our interaction was already generating energy that needed to be expressed. Even though the dance floor was still closed, he lead me right out there and proceeded to pull back the divider. Security was not amused. I was simultaneously embarrassed and delighted. In some cases it's good to hang out with someone that will push the envelope. Once the dance floor was officially opened we did our share of grooving. It was so fun, I can't even tell you. It reminded me of the second time I met my boyfriend, Geoff. When you connect on the dance floor and can be totally silly because there's no reason to impress you're on the fast track with me. At one point we did something that failed and I ended up flat on my back with him on top of me. Hot. All of our antics were making my head buzz. I knew from my history that I had to play it cool. He would leave to get a drink or go to the gents or whatever and I stayed behind to dance. And then he was gone. No goodbye, no explanation, no phone number. I danced for a while thinking he may have gone to the ATM or something, but he didn't show. I was hurt. I walked half way to my car and decided that it was stupid to go home. Besides, he could still return, right? He didn't and I was really bummed; more bummed than I should have been. Sunday I was in a haze for most of the day. I went through the motions, got a lot of work done and then Michael called to say they were meeting up at Micky's and I should join. Duh. Of course, I was returning to the scene of the crime. The night was awful. I have always hated clubs on three day weekends. All of those people that never go out finally do and ruin it for everybody else. It was sad. I mean, these people were falling down drunk. You would have thought Prohibition was coming back. The mystery guy wasn't there as far as I could tell, but it didn't bother me much since I didn't expect him to be. You know when you have to do a fact finding mission just to eliminate the possiblity? Yeah. Now I know. It wasn't until today that I realized why I was so down. I'm certainly mature enough to handle an unexplained premature departure even if it is from the first guy I've had such an immediate connection with in years. It was the mere evidence that such a connection could exist that made the bad ending so wrong. Jesus. I had no idea I was that fucking lonely!! All the signs were there, but I guess I was too busy to pay them any heed. Now I have to wonder if the mystery guy will be at Micky's this coming Saturday night. I've been going there for the past several Saturdays as my sole social excursion and didn't see him before. In fact, I've been going to Micky's off and on for years and have never seen him. I know better than most that means absolutely nothing. I'll be there - and early.
So You Think You Can Dance?
Right about when I started my full time job at Jet Set the show So You Think You Can Dance? began. From the first moment I became aware of its existence I knew I couldn't miss a single moment and I was spot on. Never before in all of my television history has a show so captivated me and engaged me on such a consistent emotional level. So here I am twelve weeks later with a very good groove going on with my job and the intensity of the show rising to unheard of highs. It's a very mixed blessing. The show will end next week and at the same time I have to negotiate my salary at Jet Set. They won't pay me what I feel I deserve and no matter how earth-shattering So You Think You Can Dance? might be, it will be done - at least for now. I certainly don't expect a constant flow of fresh and exhilarating energy in my life. God knows I've had to generate my own for most of my time on this planet. Still, I would like for once to take a few steps up for a change. It's one thing to escalate your life, but to continually ebb and flow is a very different thing indeed. At this point in my life I feel as though my purpose on this planet is to move from company to company to improve operations without ever taking any steps up professionally. It is wreaking havoc on my in every imaginable way; however, I don't know how to defeat the cycle. I suppose I'll just have to wait to see how things pan out on both fronts.
I believe this is a new record for me. Even when I swore off of blogging, it was never more than a week before I was back at the keyboard. As usual, I have had plenty to say and not enough time or energy to put towards this. It may sound like a cop-out, but I think I can honestly say that the past month of my life has been the most activity-packed of my life. People in LA grossly misuse the word "busy" so I avoid it at all costs. Sure, I have had buttloads of things on my plate and my devotion to productivity has reached new heights, but I simply refuse to say I've been "busy" to anybody. Rather I've outlined my schedule as a demonstration of the few and far between moments that haven't been utterly consummed. I haven't had a work-free day in over six weeks. What's funny about that is I've been behind the entire time. It has rained, it has poured and I have to thank all of those I've worked for so being so very understanding. And big hugs to my friends and family who have endured seemingly endless periods of zero response and silence. Tonight I finished the lion's share of a project that I swear will be my last heavy crunch on the home business front. That leaves me with four open projects; two virgin endeavors and two huge jobs that require only polishing and tweaking. Oh, and one more project that has been in limbo for two months that can finally get the attention it so richly deserves. Anyway, from this point forward I am not going to put myself through this. It's just wrong. I have enough to deal with at work to have to face an entirely separate beast at home. So I'm feeling good and it's all downhill to the weekend. Heavy sigh and hope for a restful night ahead.
Life Is A Banquet
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thyme by the ocean bcMy grandmother died this morning. I am not certain of the exact cause and I'm not going to ask, but I know that she was very healthy. Her good health was a somewhat of a curse as Alzheimer's Disease robbed her of her mind years ago. If you had asked me yesterday how I felt about my mother's mother, I would have said that we were not close and that I had not seen her in ages. That is a shame because she was a remarkable woman. Before her condition was diagnosed she used to drive all of us up the wall with her endless chatter and mood swings. It became so bad my mother finally said, "Woman, if you get lost on the freeway one more time you're goin' in the home!" Even though I suspect she felt guilty about that statement once we realized grandma's coherent days were numbered, it is still one of my favorite quotes from her. We are all told to have respect for the dead, but what if you didn't respect them when they were alive? I loathe it when people say great things about the deceased that you KNOW aren't true. And if they ARE true, was it the death that brought them out? My experience with death is very limited; however, I can say that no one I've known has left this plane without knowing how I felt about them. Before the weirdness at the end, my grandmother was a vivacious creature with so much spark and energy that she would leave people 20 years her junior gasping for breath in her rose-scented wake. She contributed in any way she could to things she believed in. Whether it was volunteering at the library or senior center, making cookies for a bake sale or any of the myriad of things she did for the church she was always in motion and in good spirits. She was very strict, but always fair. She always had time for you - family came before anything else. Her integrity was boundless. No matter how bad things were she had encouraging and meaningful words. She laughed. She made the most mundane things fun. She was a matron, an anchor for the family and a source of inspiration for me even though I did not always agree with her. My mother has been gracefully filling my grandmother's shoes now for ten years. She is everything her mother was and even more. It hasn't been easy for her. She was always very close to her mom and I don't know how she could stand watching her slowly slip away. I couldn't bear it and this event has only served to remind me that I may have to learn how. Because I'm too poor to have a fucking mobile phone my mom was forced to notify me of this through e-mail. As soon as I saw the subject, "Mother" I knew what had happened. It was probably better that way because ma and I tend to unravel in situations like this. We are each other's catalyst. While I believe that death is not the end of life, but the reward; I can't help feeling sad for my mom. To be honest it was much more heart-wrenching for me to see my grandmother blissfully ignorant of her life in the home. That is not life. Now she is free from the prison of her body and my mother can finally put her to rest the rest of the way.
If You Thought Tuesday Was Bad...
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in north andover maOn Tuesday we found out that on Friday the Herb Ritts Studio had declared Visages would no longer be syndicating their images. It was their fault it took us so long to realize, I mean, we never check the fax machine. Anyway, that was a pretty severe blow to the company as the worldwide sales of Herb Ritts images account for about 85% of the company's income. We thought that was pretty bad. We had no idea. Today the owner informed us that there was nothing we could do about this and that she had decided to close the doors forever at the end of the month. She was somewhat nonchalant about it considering it marked the end of her twenty years at the helm of one of the most prestigious celebrity photo agencies on the planet. We were blown away. It wasn't so bad for me since I'm right in the middle of negotiations for a new job, but for Kelly it was somewhat devastating. She's only been working there for a month and the prospect of starting a job search all over was far from what she had on her agenda this summer. Not fun. What's worse is now I fear that I'll be sucked into the process of dismantling this business, which is something I've been trying to avoid for over a year. It's been a bad week. And it started on such a nice note.