FEELING MERRY

Well, for the first time in a very very long time, I am feeling downright merry.

It's been over a year since i wrote, and i doubt my of my once faithful readers ever check back anymore. But damn it i'm happy. Happy enough even to write about it.

I have SO MUCH to be grateful for this year, it's pretty absurd.

Tate and I are so happy and healthy and feeling and looking great, it's so so nice. Tate got sober 7 months ago, and it totally changed our lives, everything is so much easier, and calmer, and happier. No more drunken melodramatic fights... bliss. It's been a lot of work, and emotional upheaval, but what a payoff.

And i worked more this year then i think i ever have, and there is money both in the checking and in the savings... what a gift. I bought a new car last week, and then, with virtually no effort, i sold my car. To the first guy who came to see it. He even paid me cash. Jesus! What an amazing thing.

The present- which i find myself intensely grounded in these days- is just that. A gift. I feel so lucky- to have my health, and to be happy, and to be loved and supported. My cup really is over brimming.

The wedding is next June, and its going to be amazing. We are going to have a wonderful party, and all the pieces are in place. Catering, DJ, Dress, flowers...blah blah blah blah!! And we broke down and decided to just invite a bunch of people, so while it's still small, everyone who needs to, will be there. That is a relief.

And the cats are good, and the apartment is JUST BEAUTIFUL. And we made Tate his own room, we call it the man cave, and i have my own office.

And things just couldn't be better.

So i don't need a pinch, because my eyes are open. And as i look around i see that my life is very very good, and i am very very grateful to be here.

xoxoxoxox

VIEW FROM THIS SIDE

Jesus it’s been seven months since I last wrote??

That’s fucking absurd.

My god, a lot has happened.

Tate and I renovated our apartment- it’s so beautiful, we really took it to the next level. Here are some before and after pictures.

Dad moved to Colorado for the summer. I managed to eek out about 3 1/2 weeks there- it’s such a magical place- and summer really is the best time ever there. I went to Mountain fair, and went swimming in the rivers and I hiked up to six mountain lakes- 4 of which I swam naked in… that really is the only way to hike I discovered. Here are some pictures from Colorado.

Doing some pretty intense therapy- which is good for me. It has helped me a lot- to deal with all these fucking emotions,

Mom will have been dead a year, in 3 weeks. This time last year was such a traumatic time. Watching her die was so brutal, and it’s just kinda nut s to have it all behind me and try to move on, and make her proud, and to still do what I want, and be happy. We kept a calendar on the wall during those 6 months. From her sickness to her death. It was purely out of necessity- to keep track of all the doctor appointments, and the visitors and all the madness. Now it reads like a reminder of the most awful six months of my life. It’s in a closet in my dad’s apartment next door. I happened to go in there yesterday and found my self gazing at it. A year ago today she had 5 appointments. FIVE. It was like having a child with a million summer classes- and we had to take her to all of them.

It was so overwhelming.

A year later and I am having a bridal shower in my beautiful kitchen and backyard that my mother’s death help renovate. I am using her china, and my grandmothers silver- I am using her vases, and her glasses, even her champagne cooler… The furniture and the linens are mine. Ha.

I think about her all the time and I hope she is watching from somewhere- feeling proud, or at least not totally disappointed.

I think she is.

Have a busy fall. Work coming up, then a trip to Mexico for Mimi’s 30th Birthday . Hopefully I will work for most of October so Tate and I can take a deeply overdue trip to Rome. Still yet another trip to Indiana and again to Colorado for the holidays… All this and I am unemployed right now. Good grief!

Things feel good to me right now. Or perhaps more accurately things don’t feel awful. And considering the year I’ve had, shit man I’m just taking it wherever I can get it.

WELCOME FROM HELEN HAYS REHAB HOSPITAL

In what I am now referring to as an astonishing turn of events, I have found myself in yet another hospital. This marks the fifth one in six months. If I count it out, actually I have been to five hospitals for 8 different people in under 6 months. Holy shit. Getting old sucks.

This time is a doosey. I am here in New Jersey visiting my dear, closest cousin TJ. Last December, totally out of the blue, he got a backache, And two days later was sent to the hospital. The next morning they told us he would not make it thru the night. They didn’t’ know why, but his system was shutting down and he was dying.

As it would turn out TJ had contracted a staph infection, and, as luck would have it- it was MRSA, which stands for Methicillin-Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus. Methicillin is a family of antibiotics. So MRSA means that this particular strand of Staph is non responsive to antibiotics. Charming. His MRSA led to Pneumonia, which led to blood poisoning, which led to Bacterial Spinal Meningitis.

Which, basically means he was totally fucked.

He was put on life support and had machines breathing for him for 6 weeks. He was in a medically induced coma for 5 weeks. Slowly but surely he started to come back- both of his collapsed lungs regained their former glory, his once racing heart found it’s beat once more, and his blood found it’s balance. However, because of the meningitis his spine was damaged so badly, that he cannot walk or use the lower half of his body.

But, by some miracle he has full use of his upper body, he has no paralysis, his arms function normally and his there is no brain damage… it isn’t all “shitted up” (a particularly articulate way to explain brain damage that I heard last night from a fellow spinal cord patient- fantastic).

And so here I am. Flew in for a week to give my Aunt Lois a break. Imagine- she lost her sister and 2 months later, was told her son might die. Jesus.

But TJ is a fucking champ- no Joke. He now can stand, and walk on the parallel bars, and he is in good spirits and is super positive, and we’re making cripple jokes and we all know THAT HE IS GOING TO BE OK. The doctors expect him to recover fully. They are thinking that he will check out in a few weeks- he will have to use a walker for a little while but they do expect a full recovery.

Today he got approved to go in a car so tomorrow we are steeling him out of here to go home for the first time since before Christmas…

And even though this is awful. It’s amazing too. What is most surprising about this place is the sheer undeterred amount of hope that is simply palpable here. And we are dealing with some pretty hardcore shit here. Perched on a hill in West Haverstraw New York, overlooking the Hudson: people who were simply going along when in one split second everything is different. Mike had finally dumped his (and I quote) bitch of a girlfriend- finally bought that motorcycle he wanted. A 90 year old man pulled out in front of him 4 years ago and now he lives life from a wheelchair. Ron was an undercover cop who got rammed in a high speed pursuit, boom. Now in a wheel chair. Cathy was taking a walk with her two kids, she bent over to pick up a pinecone. Her 18 year old neighbor came screaming down the street and here she is, away from her family, all alone in the hospital with only the very littlest use of her limbs. Yesterday she cut a piece of melon with a knife and fork. It was a triumph for us all.

The brutal truth about life is staggering. The world is a harsh brutal place. Things happen that fucking suck. I MEAN SUCK. People get sick, people die, people survive… people shit their pants and have to learn to walk, or eat , or cut their food.

I could look for some reason for why I have had to bear witness to all of this lately- why I have had to push not one, but now two family members in a wheel chair in the last few months- but I don’t think that there’s a reason. And even if I knew that reason it wouldn’t change the fact that I keep having to wipe family members asses….

But hope is a hell of a thing.

And resilience is a motherfucker.

And I’m proud of TJ for surviving and not dying on us. And I’m grateful. And I’m proud to be here and help him and it’s good therapy for me to be in a rehab situation where TJ is going to learn to walk again, and NOT walk to his grave, like mom. He is gonna stand up and do a lot of things, and win more Grammies, and walk down an aisle, and walk on beaches, and foreign soils… and it’s a fucking miracle.

And so when I feel like life is all shitted up, I don’t really dwell, cuz it all feels pretty precious, and inspired, and powerful.

And then I slap myself and tell myself to snap the fuck out of it and not to be such a fucking sap.

HOLY SHIT

Holy shit- that last entry kills me. “Someday I will look back on these days as a blissful steady stream of one good day after another.” Ya think???

I wrote that Mach 31st of this year. Amazing.

On March 12th my mom looked down at a magazine and heard a click click click in her neck.
On April 16th my mom was taken into the ER in Santa Monica because the pain in her neck had gotten so bad.
Later that week she was diagnosed with stage 4 advanced lung cancer. She had a tumor in her lung, on her neck, in her lymph nodes and one on her rib.
On may 29th we got the news that chemo was working- we were gonna be ok..
On July 5th our cat died.
On July 6th we moved.
On August first mom had a severe double stroke that rendered her near incapacitated.
And after two brutal months, on Oct 2nd mom died from complications of advanced lung cancer.


And so Chase, yes, you were right. You do look back on those days before the storm that has been 2007 as “a blissful steady stream of one good day after another.” And I miss that.

I ache for it.

Perhaps one day it will return, but for now it is gone and I am left struggling, muddling, just trying not to drown in sadness.

I was never particularly close emotionally with my mom, but we spent an awful lot of time together, and we have always been a super close family.

The last 6 months of her life however, I never left her side. I quit my job, moved in with her and my father twice- once for a month, another time for a few weeks. The rest of the time I was at her house by 7 am and didn’t leave till 10 or 11 pm. I drove her to the doctor, changed her IV, cooked and cleaned. Packed and organized. Paid the bills. And in the end I bathed her, brushed her teeth and shaved her head. I wiped her butt and got her dressed. Rubbed lotion on her depleted body and flossed her teeth.

It was at once beautiful and deeply deeply painful.

And her death brought me relief: that she was out of pain, and out of that miserable state of affairs her life had become. But now- with some time behind me- I miss that time. I miss it. Because even though she was a mere shadow of herself, at least she was still here.

And man oh man, I miss my mom.

It’s thanksgiving this week. And I can’t remember how to make the yams. I think I know- but I’m just not sure. I mean I made them with her so many times, but I never bothered to write it down. I just wasn’t ready.

It’s also my birthday this week. SO I’m getting a double dose of missing my mom this week.

And it’s brutal.

But you know? You just wake up, and breath in. And out. And you show up, and try to be present. And you do what you can. Try to pay attention and not be too flighty or spacey, I find baking helps.

But man I cry a lot. More than I ever had before- it’s just ridiculous. Without the slightest provocation. And that is exhausting… because I’m not a crier by nature.

But all these tears, they fall so hard and so often and so sincere.

But everyone says that time helps. And I guess it does. I am just doing what I can, and being honest about how I feel, trying to feel it now so it doesn’t come back to haunt me later (anymore than I’m sure it will always haunt me)

And just putting one foot in front of me and thinking that someday, that blissful steady stream of good days will return.

It’s just not today.



Finally some links:
The Team Carter Blog (where you can read about my mom’s illness if your so inclined)
Photos:
My mom’s Colorado memorial
My mom’s LA memorial
Zoe’s Wedding
Vicki’s wedding
My trip to Indiana
My trip to New Jersey


And this: is me and my mom

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HELLO BRENDA

Well it’s been ages since I’ve written. Been better at posting pictures than writing. But Brenda says I have to blog, so here I am. Hello brenda. How are you?

Everything is actually excellent in my little world. Work, time off, great weather, love my man, love my cats, love my apartment. Someday I will look back on these days as a blissful steady stream of one good day after another. And that is a pretty nice thing. Over the years I have often written about how lucky I am, and about luck in general, and now, after all this time I find myself going back to the same subject. Finding myself endlessly blessed, and unable to articulate my gratefulness.

I woke up last night in the middle of the night missing Rome so much I could hardly breath. It doesn’t happen all that often, but I feel like if I don’t go visit soon, even if it’s just for 5 days, it will slip out of my fingers, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t bear the thought of going there without Tate, but given our current situation I think I might just have to… one person alone seems somehow easier than two people going… we’ll just have to see I guess.

I have tons of pictures up

Carter turned 35

Tate and I went to NYC

My cousin Shannon got married

Megan had a birthday

We had a yard Sale

Sasha had a party

Pretty fun days recently.

And fucking babies everywhere. It is official, Mimi and Santi are having a boy. Brent and Ari are due in 3 weeks, Josh and his baby mama are right around the corner… lots of babies… thank god for birth control is all I have to say… no whammies for me!!

One last thing and then I’m off to shower- Tate bought me an 80 gig ipod for no good reason. “I deserved something nice” is what he said. Can you believe that???

I have the 15 gig (which is so old they don't even make anymore) so basically I put ALL my music on. ALL my pictures on. ALL my contacts, my calendar, everything. And I still have more room remaining that my entire previous ipod. It’s AWESOME.

Love my duty!

DOUBLE OHH SEVEN

So I have started about 15 entries in the last few months- none of which I can seem to finish and post. So fuck it. Pictures- that’s what I got right now. Pictures.

Emily and Sabine.

Getting Drunk with Mimi and Santi before Christmas.

My godsons that are so cute I could die.

Damaris’s Birthday Jamboree.

Thanksgiving.

And my birthday – what up 31…nice.

Haven’t been working this week _thus the time to upload pics and such. It’s been awesome…. Tate and I so live together- the place really feels like its OURS. We spent the week tinkering around making meals and fixing little things up here and there- sold a bunch of shit on ebay and clearing out the garage (which is crammed with shit) and going to the dentist and that kinda stuff.

I could be the best professional unemployed person…. Damn it to hell that I can’t be. But it sure is nice this week!!!

SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE

Literally.

I have been in Seattle for the past week, and am finally leaving to go home today. (phew- thank god). So excited to go home- for several reasons, excited to see my cats, excited to be in 60 degree weather, excited to see Vicki and Damaris, but more than anything- excited to get a goodnight sleep.

I have not slept well since I got to Seattle. And I’m not even joking. We stayed at the westin- which for all outward appearances should have been a nice experience- kinda fancy, right down town, good room service, pool, spa, whatever- I mean bill Clinton stayed there… but holy shit what a façade. First of all there are two tall towers that all the rooms are in, and they were built on ”rollers” (whatever that means) as a earthquake precaution. But what that means is that the towers sway, and they creak. And I’m not talking about a little sway or a little noise. I’m talking water swishing in the toilet bowl and loud creaks and moans and holy fucking shit.

The first night as Tate and I laid awake at midnight, a little scared, a lot concerned and totally pissed because we had to be on set in 4 hours.

We changed rooms.

That one talked too. I’m telling you the whole hotel had something to say- it was wild. After a week I got used to it. It isn’t so bad when it’s not windy, but , as you might have heard Seattle gets a lot of rain, and um wind… it’s unbearable.

But I couldn’t believe in a town who is famous for insomnia, one of the nicer hotels in town would, it seems go out of it’s way to make the stereotype true.

Good riddance.

GREETINGS FROM TACOMA

So here I am in Tacoma Washington, sitting in my rented Tahoe in the middle of the night on an Army commercial. For those of you that are avid readers, you will remember that I ended my year last year by blowing up a set, and this year ends no differently. We’ve built a set in the middle of a field- a “bad guys base camp” and we’ve been blowing it up bit by bit…

Well sort of. Lots of army dudes, gas explosions, helicopters, machine guns shooting blanks… pretty cool shit actually.

The whole job is about a month long and myself, my father, my boyfriend and a host of other dummies are up here as well…

Tacoma leaves a lot to be desired, but Seattle is awesome- we move hotels up to Seattle next week which I am looking forward to- I’ve been in shit hole Tacoma for far too long.

Excited to go to Colorado for the holidaze- Tate is coming with, which is nice… we are about to have our one year anniversary- gulp. Speaking of anniversaries , I have officially been in the US for a year… in fact it was one year ago tonight my brother threw me my welcome home/ 30th birthday party…

I was in such a different place then- just back- deeply culture shocked- unsure of where I was going to live, or if would go strait back to work, or if I was even going to stay… a lot has happened- most notable of course is Tate, without whom I can no longer imagine my life. (sigh)

And so I don’t know. I don’t feel like blogging lately, and its not that life isn’t exciting or interesting… it’s just, happening, and I am enjoying it, and I don’t feel the need to share it as much as I did before. I feel very grateful, and blessed, and so in love… it’s just all so nice. I’m a happy girl, and it’s a welcome feeling.

And so, in conclusion I leave you with this: Dirka Dirka, Jihad Dirka.

AND JUST LIKE THAT, EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT

So Tate and I have been talking about moving in together for a while…. But there were a lot of uncertainties… Do we get a new place together- does he move into my place? Will it ever feel like our place? Or will it always have the stench of “my” place? How do we make it “ours”… I mean my place for the money- you really can’t do much better- but my parents own the place, and that has it’s pluses and minuses… and so we deliberate.

Then we shifted the conversation to, well, if he did move in, how would we do the place, how would we do it differently to make it feel different… we came up with switching the office and the bedroom- make it feel new, different… and the bedroom is bigger and it kinda makes more sense for two people and two desks and all that…

So the other day we did a little online browsing, desks, dressers…. What would we need to buy to make the space work for two. We found a few things we liked, a couple of things we loved etc. SO. Yesterday when we went to the store to pay and order the above mentioned pieces of furniture. Figuring it would arrive in a few weeks and by then we would have Tate's apt packed up and we could move him in and build our new shit and all that…

So then perhaps you can understand how it caught me off guard when they had everything in stock. And before I knew it , there we were moving the bed, building the desks, moving bookshelves, doing the whole thing last night.

I mean, I knew he was moving in, and I knew things were gonna change, but I hadn’t really expected it all to happen in one day…

And to make things crazier, when we found out we could take all the shit home, we figured we would move it all around today, and spend the rest of the week, bringing Tate’s shit over and settling in, but yesterday afternoon I got a call to start a job today- so suddenly we had a shit load to do all before I came to work this morning….

But before I knew it, it was 11 pm, and there we were, with 2 new desks in the old bedroom, and our heads laying where the fax machine and printer had been just a few hours prior.

It was wild, but I guess that’s what you get when you have two art dept people move in together. Instant house… like it’s a set.

The truth is that the rooms look great, and I think I am going to like it a lot. It will undoubtedly take some getting used to…. Middle of the night trips to the bathroom, closet still in the office that kinda thing? Where do I put my dirty clothes now… etc. But it feels like a new apt. And that was the whole goal. Make it new, make it feel like Tate and I made it together…

As a side note- my cats were totally confused. It was bed time, mom was in her pajamas, but why did she keep going in the office? And why wasn’t the bed in the bedroom? What the fuck? It’s gonna take some getting used to for sure…

THREE CANKER SORES AND A FRACTURE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Greetings from the Santa Monica infirmary. Where I am hopped up on Vicodin and my cat Pete is loaded on Morphine. Fun times at 1450 Franklin.

I have had a ball buster of a sore throat for a week now- so bad that I went to the doctor twice. The first time I went they took a throat culture, as it turns out I don’t have strep. But a upon a second visit it was determined that I nave not one, not two but three enormous canker sores on my left tonsil.

Terrific. Those fuckers are huge and they fucking HURT. I mean big time. Haven’t had pain like this, since, well, ever. Shit is maddening. But the doc gave me Vicodin for the pain- so in between gargling with salt water, and NOT eating very much I am getting seriously high on the vics…..

It would seem perfect timing that the week I spend in bed all doped up my cat would go and fall out a window and fracture his leg. (His left leg I might add) I think the whole thing was an attempt to get special treatment and an excuse to get wasted and lay in bed with mom- but in all fairness the screen finally gave way and he fell out of the window about 6 feet onto the concrete and fractured his bone and has been limping severely ever since.

But that’s why they made cat morphine. And human vicodin.

Another dose Pete? Yes lets.

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

I could tell you all about brents wedding.

I could tell you about when Rachel got married.

I could tell you all about indiana.

Or I could just show you the pictures

FOOTBALL HAIKU

Watch the pigskin fly
See the fat man run and catch
Cover the spread bitch.

WELCOME TO FORT WAYNE INDIANA, HAVE A COOKIE

That’s what the man with the cookie basket says as he greets you as you deboard the plane. “Welcome to the Midwest, forget your diet- it’s time to fatten up.”

And it’s no joke. I single handedly undid 5 months of dieting in 11 days in Indiana. And I have only one thing to say:

YUM. No joke- Fort Wayne was delicious, everything soaked in butter and salt, served with macaroni salad and French fries, oh my god- BLISS. Cakes and pies and donuts and you just can’t believe the things they made. Tate’s mom is a FANTASTIC cook, far and away the best macaroni and cheese I have EVER had. I mean, it was serious, holy lasagna and burgers and chocolate cake… and I mean what was I gonna do? Say no to Tate’s Mom? Aheemmm no. I asked for seconds.

It was great.

We left Fort Wayne this morning- and as is the case with certain places in the world, I can tell it is going to take a few weeks to digest the experience. But there are a few things I found particular to Fort Wayne that I have never seen anywhere else in the world.

For one thing- everyone still smokes- with the exception of Tate's immediate family- every other person I met smoked, and as you can still smoke in restaurants and bars- they all smoke A LOT. Secondly, everyone, when saying good bye says “be careful” I’m not sure what there is going on in Indiana that everyone is so cautious about… but the result of this is two fold- on the one hand you feel a heightened sense of fear- as there is something evil out there that needs warning against, but on the other hand there is a tremendous sense of kindness that is extended to you because everyone is looking after you… it’s kind. And the third and particularly strange thing I discovered in Indiana is that when you go to a restaurant they ask you, before the meal, how you would like the bill. Chase and Tate together, And Dave and Lori together, and Cory came alone so separate him… and this happens everywhere. At EVERY MEAL. It’s not that it’s annoying or bothersome, at least not to the costumer- would seem it would bother the waiter if anyone… but this is just HOW IT IS. Totally normal. And to me, it’s one of the strangest customs I ‘ve ever seen.

In truth it makes it easier, and it is fairer and cleaner and no complex math to do, but it TOTALLY takes the romance out of trying to buy someone dinner. All that “no I insist” at the beginning of the meal just isn’t the same….

I don’t know what that says about those Hoosiers- are they cheap, are they stingy and don’t want to pay a part of a friends beer? Or is it simply an easier way to enjoy a meal? All I know is I get the serious stink eye anytime I ask for a check to be separated anywhere else I have ever been… strange little place Fort Wayne.

I actually liked it a lot, I loved meeting Tate’s family and seeing the world he grew up in. I learned so much about him in a short amount of time- it was like cramming for a test- except um, without the test. And everyone was so kind and sweet and very REAL. No pretentious Los Angeles crap that is so prevalent out west- just good old real kind people. But admittedly there is a lot if ignorance going on there, just silly bigotry or comments about “fags” or some shit- and these people don’t mean it, they just don’t know any better. And that makes it frustrating- because to offer another opinion to some people is seen as an offence, or an attack on their way of life, and that can be sort of saddening and terrible frustrating. I spent a lot of time with my mouth shut, and smiling politely. Tate is not so good at that- he lets people know what he thinks, and I’m sure if it was my home town I would too, but it always stirs up the shit, and when your probably never going t o agree, sometimes its better just to stay quiet and just enjoy dinner. (ahha chase- for those of you that are longtime blog readers perhaps you will remember a religious argument that happened on these pages about a year ago where I was singing a slightly different song- my, how your tune has changed Chase…. Tisk tisk tisk)

Either way I had a wonderful time and was so grateful to be taken into Dave and Lori’s home and to be included in all of Tate’s family meals and outings… it’s was pretty great.

And my favorite part was Tate. Because he was pretty cute.

SHOPPING

I love shopping. Damaris, my newly appointed “stylist” took me shopping a few weeks ago and we bought me some much needed new clothes, and it was AWESOME. Then this week we took my cutie pants boyfriend and bought him (and I’m not kidding here) and entire new wardrobe. A suit, shirts, ties, jeans, button ups, fucking- a, even pajamas.

And I gotta say, my man looks good.

I love shopping with Damaris. In fact I love doing just about anything with that girl. Shopping ,movies, working, driving a car, watching TV. She’s just a good girl. The best part about shopping with D is she has good taste, and she knows what is allowed.

That’s the thing about shopping and clothes that I always hated- it’s that it seems like there are all these rules to clothing.

“Oh god you can’t wear that with that…”
“good lord look at her!”

…and I just, don’t know them. Lord knows my mother tried…but she will be the first to tell you I never got it. Dead of winter in Colorado and I am heading out the door in shorts. (now that sounds like common sense) but seriously. I just never got it. Combine that with the fact that I am not your average boutique size, and I just kinda give up.

T-shirts and jeans- that’s where I’ve lived. For years. I look like my father. (god my poor mother). I mean, m mom went to fashion school for god sakes!

Anyway. It wall started with the jeans. Girls jeans don’t fit- well, not if your like me and have a bit of the “junk in the trunk” as it were- so I go to men’s stores. Levi’s, wranglers… whatever. For years damaris has been saying “those jeans don’t fit- you look like you have a terd in your pants”. And I would say- “I can’t wear girls jeans,” and she would sigh and quietly roll her eyes.

And then the other day I called her and said. “ok D. Lets go buys some jeans” The next thing I know I’m at the register with my credit card in hand, at barneys, saying “shit I’m unemployed, but spending this much money in an afternoon is FUN! And it was.

But I will say this, my junk in the trunk is looking a lot more like budunk-budunk.

THE BOWL AND THE BUS

In what has become a three years in the making tradition- last weekend Nikky and friends celebrated her birthday by renting a double decker bus and driving a bunch of friends- several cases of champagne and a ton of food thru Hollywood to the Hollywood bowl.

It’s always so much fun and so ridiculous- and indeed it was again this year. Had some new kids which is always fun for someone to drive up la brea, or down Hollywood with a full bottle of champagne in your hand howling at pedestrians for the first time. (and it never seems to get old for some of us – ah carter???)

The show was the reggae nation or something- and it was really fun. I’ve never seen so many wasted people at the bowl, and it has certainly never been so lax about smoking cigarettes and pot in your seat. Love those hippies man.

Anyway, an excellent night. And, not a ton, but a smattering of pictures here.

BIRDS POSSUMS AND CATS OH MY

Flap flap.

Thud thud.

That was the sound I awoke to at 5am on sunday morning as Pete the cat had a bird half dead and flapping around on the floor IN MY BEDROOM.

I am not good with birds, especially half dying stunned little grey ones on my floor. There was Pete, just happy as could be- “look mom I brought you a present!” Little fucker. The bird was so not dead yet, but quickly on his way…

‘Tate…. Uhhhh, mmmm, aaahhhh, eeee honey wake up, get the bird, get the bird out… help honey”

Now imagine this spoken by barry white: (becasue for some unknow reason that's how Tate sounds when he is still half asleep)

“Go back to sleep baby, don’t worry about it, Good boy petey, get him...”

That was his answer. Fucker. Meanwhile the bird is like, seizing about a foot away from my head. Finally Sally and I had had enough. So we shut the bed room door with Pete Tate and the bird inside, and she and I slept our morning out on the couch. And when I returned to the scene of the crime a few hours later there were feathers everywhere, a small bloody carcass at the foot of the bed and two soundly sleeping jackasses.

***

That same evening I watched Joey, my parents Jack Russell attack and kill a possum in their backyard. Didn’t really take long, that little dog kicked some serious possum ass. He didn’t stand a chance. Couldn’t tell if he killed him or if was he just playing possum, either way he wound up shoveled into a neighbors yard thru the alley.

It was a gruesome day for the “domestic” animals over here in Santa Monica.

Yuck.

It was the kind of day that makes your ankles feel vulnerable. I hate that.

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START

Seems like I write less and less these days and I am forced to summarize more and more, and as a result my blogs are well, less than their former glory.

What can I say- some people blog every day… I don’t.

They win.

The last month and 1/2 have been good- sometimes very intense, and at times hectic, but mostly good.

Did a commercial and a music video back to back which was a bit much… two big jobs really take it’s toll on the sleep factor. Another bad side effect of too much work is that I unfortunately had a falling out with a long time employee where by he told me to go fuck himself and I basically haven’t hired him since. It was pretty heartbreaking, because he was a loyal employee, and a good friend, and I feel his absence on my jobs since…

BUT.

I had a FUCKING AWESOME fourth of July. I have uploaded some pictures here. It was just really really fun. It started watching Italy win the semi finals of the world cup, then we had a bbq at Emily Fosters house (god damn is her baby cute… seriously) and then we went to the Dodger game where not only did we sit in the FRONT ROW ON THE FIELD, but my friend brad got HIT WITH A FLY BALL in the chest (hilarious) and THEN after the game they let us rush the field and we sat on the grass and watched an EPIC fireworks show. God damn SO MUCH FUN. I’m a big fan of music during fireworks… and they played all the Americana great ones- Neil Diamonds comin to America, fucking john cougar…. It was pretty awesome. Very America, very 4th.

After finishing a horrific music video (I’ll never do another one ever again, but then, I say that after EVERY video I do)… I actually had a few days off. And that was marvelous. I actually got some time to work on my backyard, planted some roses, built a cat door for my cats (totally changed their life and mine by the way) I can’t really take credit for the cat door though- Tate really did that big boy)…then we refinished my teak table and chairs, and after a few days my backyard was actually wonderful again…

Then I went to Block Island for Justin Dragonas’s wedding. It was a lot of fun and there are a shit load of pictures.

Came home to work (which is always nice). Doing a Remington shaver commercial with Cindy Crawford. And I have to say, often models are not nearly as hot as they should be,. I suppose that why she is a “super” model. She really is stunning, and it really is pretty amazing to see a woman who is THAT beautiful in the flesh…

Coming up, I have 3 weeks of traveling in September… Tate is taking me home to Indiana the first week of sept, (gulp) then we go to Wash DC for my dad’s art opening, then we go to Martha’s vineyard for a wedding, and finally we get to relax for a week or two in cape cod… so as of now I am just working working working to afford my little September travels….

In terms of personal stuff I am kinda terrific. I am so head over heals for Tate- it’s totally absurd. We are very much in the thick of it, and that’s totally fun and new and wild and just fucking great.

I do miss Rome all the time, and can’t believe sometimes I don’t live there, and now that its been like, Jesus, 9 months (!) since I was there, my time there is coming into focus in terms of what it meant in the scope of my life… pretty wild.

SO that’s kind of it. Been thinking of all sorts of odds and ends to blog, and I never do… kind of a jackass that way.

Anyway- hope everyone is well.

Xo-me

BACK IN THE SADDLE BITCH

Well wouldn’t you know it the second Tate and I got all settled in in Oregon ready for more fishing and fun- the phone rang and within 16 hours Tate and I were back in the car headed down to LA to go back to work. Damnit. I wasn’t gonna take the job- but Phil and Tate talked me into it and since they will get days on it too- I listened and this morning started another job.

Good lord.

It was a super fucking bummer to have to leave- but the drive was quick enough (yea right 12 fucking hours) but we made it and here we are.

And that’s kinda it- working my little sunshine ass off, and looking just fine while I do it.

What!

GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME

Greetings from central Oregon. Tate and I are having yet anther little adventure together. This time we decided last minute to jump in the car and drive up north to go see Phil. I’ve been working with Phil for going on 7 years now- and for the last 5 since he moved here it’s been “you gotta come up, this place is the best ever…” ect ect.

But I have to hand it to Tate for making it happen. We decided on Friday afternoon and we were gone Saturday morning.

We spent the night in San Fransico on saturday- which is always so awesome- Tate had never been there so we drove down Lombard st and sat in golden gate park, had a beer on the haight and then stumbled onto the Italian North beach festival- during the Italy US world cup game- which was awesome. We ate Italian food and watched the game, smoked a joint and laughed at the world going by. We hooked up with my old friend Max and his friends and went out in the Castro… and at 7am the next morning we departed the city via the golden gate bridge…

It was awesome.

We got to Bend Oregon on Sunday afternoon and since then have been given the total royal treatment… we went hiking yesterday and rafting today and tomorrow we are taking Phil’s boat out in the morning and then another hike, and on Thursday we’re going g fishing….

Man Oregon is fucking awesome. So beautiful and clean and amazing. Bend is a cross between small town Colorado and small town new England. It’s totally wild- it’s kind of red neck and mountains like Colorado- but then there is a very manicured elegance like in Martha’s Vineyard or upstate Connecticut,… it’s really fucking cool.

Right now I am at Kinko’s downloading shit for work (What the !!!) as Phil doesn’t have internet at his house. But that’s just about the only thing he doesn’t have. I mean it- 5 acres!!! He has a pond and a fire pit and a hammock and a HUGE backyard, a Jacuzzi, a paddle tennis court, a barn and a boat- he has a horse 2 goats, 3 cats and 2 dogs… its so so amazing.

So anyway- my shit is done downloading- so I am off.

Be good, go Miami and don’t forget to keep your head in the game…

HOLY MOTHER OF….

Hello and greetings at 9:30pm doing nothing at work except waiting for my favorite 4 letter word to come: wrap.

Finishing up a mother of a job. Spent 5 days in the hideous desert- hotter than 2 rats fuckin in a wool sock out there- fucking hell man. 2 days in Palm Springs hell, and then 2 more in 29 palms on a god forsaken salt flat.

The sun was hotter than shit out there- let me tell you.

But the real highlight was when a 20 foot speed rail pole came sweeping down out of the sky and slammed my dear old boyfriend Tate square across the head and sent him to hospital where he was the lucky recipient of two, count em two staples in the noggin.

But the upshot of him splitting his head open, getting knocked out and becoming fairly severely concussed- was that he and I got to spend the rest of the afternoon in the sweet loving air conditioning of the emergency room.

And while I ‘m on the subject- let me tell you about the ER in a hi-desert community. Jesus fuck those animals are all meth addicts. Even the doctors and nurses…. No joke- these sand mongers are fucking crazy- and not just because they don’t know any better- but because the heat has melted their brains- mush, mashed brain. Terrifying.

And damned entertaining….

The woman in the bed next to us was so blisteringly wasted- she kept pulling out her IV and dripping blood on the floor so she could leave to go smoke a cigarette- finally they had to bring in the police to strap her to the bed- brutal. Then there was the kid who was so strung out on meth he collapsed at the front door of the ER- and how could I ever forget the teenager who was brought in by his mother for what she called a severely ingrown toenail.

I guess my question is this: how ingrown does a toenail have to get to warrant a trip to the ER. Apparently in the desert it’s all par for the course.

Alas- Tate is fine. He received two staples, a bottle of vicodin and got the rest of the day off. He has, admittedly been a little rough around the edges since the “pounding” as I’ve taken to calling it- he does things like try to roll down car windows that are already down… he gets dizzy and lightheaded… his first cat scan was fine- and we are going to get another next week- but man- the first two days after said pounding he was the definition of concussed. I guess I know that he’ll be fine- which is why I can laugh.

Cuz it’s funny. But not like ha ha.