a visit north

My last three days were spent north of Los Angeles, with my friends and their daughters, who refer to me as "auntie" and who will soon be the flower girls in my wedding. As I am without nieces and nephews, this makes me very happy.
This photo makes me extremely happy.

To reach them, I took the Amtrak train north from LA, and witnessed yet another extraordinary sunset.

During the day while my friends worked and the children were at school, I wandered around town and took photos.


I had the fortune of being able to pick up R. from pre-K and we had a little one-on-one time where we colored.
R. thought up the entire layout of the drawing.


This is M. getting her groove on in Trader Joe's.

And here we have Mommy, M. and R. doing a little pose while we made Eggplant Parmesan.

R. took this photo.

Here's the lovely family after a successful bike ride. Neither of the girls is using training wheels.

Whenever life seems too overwhelming, I suggest visiting a family like this one. You might find yourself watering seeds or looking at a praying mantis when you first wake up. Someone might throw a huge smile and hug your way because they're happy to see you, or they might point out flowers you miss because you're too tall. Or perhaps, just perhaps, you'll be given your very own dance recital.

Today I took the beautiful LA Metro train. Why don't people take this more often?? It is a small line for a large sprawling city, but it is a very respectable train.
I went on a gameshow audition to become a contestant for "Green's Got Game" - some sort of eco-friendly gameshow on the Discovery Channel which apparently pits recycling/composting freaks like me against each other. We were filmed for our reactions and to see how excited we could get by winning and losing. I had no idea I would end up on a massive movie lot to do this. And not just any movie lot - Sunset Gower Independent Studios, which in the old days was Columbia Pictures. It was so exciting I could barely contain myself. I then walked around Hollywood, which apparently sells fame. At least, they have a market for it.

some sights.

We went to The Grove and Farmer's Market yesterday on Fairfax and 3rd. Great Mexican food and company. A. had some coffee. Too bad it was served in styrofoam.

The Farmer's Market is not really a farmer's market, though it does have some vegetable sellers and butchers. It's more of an open air food court, with specialty vendors as well.

This is a typical breakfast that A. and I eat every morning. I have really come to enjoy the meal. In NY, I tend to down a coffee or tea, and that's it. I think this may be a healthier way to begin the day.

While picking up a train ticket at Union Station, I came across this beautiful bird of paradise. They don't have these where I come from.

And wow. Union Station is beautiful.

gorgeous parade.

Anyone who knows me knows that I adore children. And when they're the progeny of friends? Forget it. I go bananas. Yesterday I had a double dose. I met E. and S. (and E.'s parents) as well as the family of K. and M. and A. at The Actor's Gang free production of "King O'Leary" - a children's adaptation of "King Lear." Yes, you read it right. The show was fantastic. If you are in the area, check it out, especially if you have a child. They will be graced by evil sisters, child actors, and a buffalo.

There's not a lot I want to say about the day, because, well, I just felt great, and I could blather on and on. I'll let some photos do the talking.

the angelus plaza senior talent show

Dear readers.

I have been in and around the entertainment field my whole life. Over the years (and especially in the last year), I've slowly learned that if you aren't filled with joy doing what you love, then what's the point? The industry is difficult enough and theater is doubly worse because, let's be real, there's not much money in it. So cultivate joy, people. Joy. Now I realize that "joy" is a relative term and can make people wince at the mere mention of it. It's kind of quasi-religious, or sometimes equated with being generically "happy." I mean not this.

The Merriam-Webster online dictionary sources joy's etymology as such: "Middle English, from Anglo-French joie, from Latin gaudia, plural of gaudium, from gaudēre to rejoice; probably akin to Greek gēthein to rejoice." Its date? The 13th century. Some of its definitions include "the emotion evoked by the prospect of possessing what one desires; a source or cause of delight." You get the picture. Which leads us to my latest foray of "free things to do in downtown LA."

I was told by the Los Angeles Downtown News that if I didn't go to The Angelus Plaza Senior Talent Show, then I was missing a "pick of the week." What they didn't tell me is that if I went, it's possible my jaw might drop open and my head might explode from all the good vibes while i watched people 55+ bring their talents to a community room stage.

I have to admit, in reading about it, my first thought was, "I've gotta see this" - as if there was some freak show aspect to watching older folks perform on a stage. Perhaps I'd find everything so adorable (look! old people tap dancing!) that I'd run home and blog about it as if I was the first person to ever go to a retirement community talent show.

I witnessed all sorts of performers - amazing jazz singers, an afro-cuban drummer, line dancers, a Durante impersonator, a blind singer and guitarist, piano players, tappers, and ballroom dancers. People would get up and introduce themselves and say things like "This is a song that was a page in my life a long time ago" or "Never stop looking for love. My father's 90, been married 6 times and is looking for number 7" or "I'm a senior too, but I refuse to quit." We were in a low panel-ceilinged fluorescent-lit community room with an awkward-looking stage and a faulty sound system, there was intermittent shushing of the audience, and sometimes when an act would almost reach the alloted 3 minutes you'd hear a judge yell, "10 SECONDS!" which was funny to me because, well, shouldn't older folk get a little extra time?

I shed a genuine tear - for the worst performance I saw - because you know what? The person who performed (a gorgeous woman dressed in black who basically just danced all over the stage barely singing along with Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" and finally throwing glitter from a scarf) was so filled with this "delight" I spoke of earlier that I actually felt shame for not experiencing her bliss. She was transcendent.

Finally, the voting results were tallied. Did I mention there was a $1,500 prize? The announcer let us know that there were "remnants of confetti and feathers from a boa - that's how fierce the competition was." The woman who won sang a song called (I believe) "How Did He Look?" She was truly deserving, a magnificent performer.

Below is one of the more beautiful albeit confusing pieces I witnessed. En(joy).

happy birthday belle-mere

Today is my future mother-in-law's birthday. For those who know her, send her the love, people. My future belle-soeur E. and I agree that we've lucked out in the MIL department. Talking on the phone with her is like talking to a friend. Well, not like. She is.

The first time I met her I was terrified. She traveled all the way to NYC from LA to see both of her sons and to attend the opening night of a Broadway play that A. had worked on. Dating A. for about 7 months, I knew I really, really liked him. That's a lie. I loved him. And so, by default of girlfriend-meets-the-mom, I was hoping to make a positive impression. The scary thing was that she was legendary in her awesomeness. Her sons adored her. This is a family that sticks together - Mom, Dad, Two Sons - they love each other deeply and they show it in their actions.

A., brother M., their Mom and I had dinner at Prune and I stayed relatively calm. No wrong moves as far as I can remember - snorting laughter through the nose, impropriety, ranting and waving of the arms, long and uncomfortable kissing of the boyfriend - none of these events are in my memory. Things seemed to go smoothly.

Score, future daughter in law.

At opening night of the Broadway play we attended the after party at the Time Warner Center - lots of room to wander around and gawk at the stars of the show as well as the occasional celebrity. A., M., their Mom and I set up camp at a table near a wax statue of Elton John - so lifelike! We laughed and chatted and ate tiny hor d'oeuvres from plates and drank champagne. A. and I commented how delicious the champagne was. Little did I realize it was topped with gin. Oh, maybe I did realize - maybe the nerves got to me, maybe it was not having had dinner yet, or maybe I was just having a delightful time; but clearly, your trusty blogger got, shall we say, bitten by the party fairy. I was neither belligerent nor loud nor improper, I just became very, very tired. From what I can remember, we walked over to Carnegie Deli for a meal (finally), and I promptly fell asleep in A.'s lap. We were sitting at a booth, so for all intents and purposes I disappeared under the table for the duration of the meal. When it was then time to leave, I remember A. waking me up. As I raised myself from the dead (read, drunk), I stood up, lost my balance, and proceeded to knock my head into the numerous framed photos of celebrities that line the walls.

Strike, future daughter in law.

I woke up the next morning, mortified. I nervously talked it out with A., afraid I had made a complete ass of myself in front of his mother, afraid I had just ruined my chances at ever seeing him again and that perhaps leaving New York was my best option. He assured me no, his mother was not a prude, she lived in Boston in the 60s, remember, and surely this was not grounds for a breakup. Anyway, wasn't it kind of a funny unrehearsed pratfall? Great. I was entertainment.

Most of the time things are bigger and scarier in the mind than they need to be. What happened was pretty uneventful to everyone else but me. According to A., I passed the girlfriend-meets-mom test with flying colors, not that there was a test. I made that up in my head. Simply put, she liked me. I was alright by her son.

And now, she and I talk of the wedding plans here in California, blogging, politics, food, the metro, and family. And it's her birthday today. Happy Birthday Belle-Mere.

some photos thus far.