gobama!

I'm nervous, I must confess. my hopeful nature is shivering like the autumn leaves aware of the approaching winter. but I do not want another winter for this country, we have been hibernating for far too long. obama is like that first day you can drive with the windows down. obama is like the first day you can smell the lilac bushes warming ever so slightly in the springtime sunshine. obama is sunshine and he will illuminate this great nation if only we give him the chance. please america, vote for the future this country was intended.

like whitney, I too believe the children are our future, but unfortunately they can't vote, 'cause if they could, they would vote for obama. do it for the children - get out there and cast their votes for the person that will help pave the way towards a future the kids and the old folks alike will be proud of. hope. change. obama. gobama!

In the end, that's what this election is about. Do we participate in a politics of cynicism or a politics of hope? ~Barack Obama

all this beauty

inspired by skl's beautiful blog, I decided it was a great time to make a (short) photographic list of some of the things I believe to be beautiful. times are hard - the economy, mercury's ass in retrograde, 3 more days till I get to watch the dodgers kick ass... but I look at these photos and I realize, even if a meteor were to fall from the sky and squash this little town, I would be blessed to have been a part of all this beauty. all that said, that meteor better not even think of heading this way until after the dodgers win the world series...

and now, in no particular order: beauty as told by b

clouds
good hair
the game
jG
32 years
music
sara
home
sisters
heidi
jamie
good men
michele
this day
laughing
family
more family
mary beth
kimberly
a road atlas
love

and that's not even the one/sixteenth of it.

astronaut wisdom

"We learned a lot about the Moon, but what we really learned was about the Earth. The fact that just from the distance of the Moon, you can put your thumb up, and you can hide the Earth behind your thumb. Everything that you have ever known, your loved ones, your business, the problems of the Earth itself, all behind your thumb. And how insignificant we really all are. But then how fortunate we are to have this body, and to be able to enjoy living here amongst the beauty of the Earth itself."

~Jim Lovell, Apollo 13

if you like beautiful 60's footage of space travel and astronaut wisdom, I suggest you get your eyes on In the Shadow of the Moon, an amazing documentary by David Sington where science is stranger than fiction. I was like a bright-eyed child amazed by what a miracle this experience we call life on earth really is. we forget easily, but watching this film is a nice reminder. look at life through the shiny eyes of those who have seen it from the moon and lived to talk about it. significantly more than 2 thumbs up.

spoon at the bowl

6 friends (jessica, jamie, keirin, jeremy, jg, and b)
3 bands (beck, spoon, and mgmt)
lots of food (cheese, salami, bread, hummus, carrots, beets, pickles, and more)
and some kitchen sink drinks (gin, club soda, lime, basil, cucumbers, and granny smith apples - yummers)
all in all, the hollywood bowl was nice and the bands were good, but the friends, food and cocktails won out.

missing michael

I miss michael phelps. that man was a big part of my evenings for a few magical days and I want those days back. watching someone who worked so hard and believed so much. someone who ate 12,000 calories a day and still had a six hundred pack. he was my modern day hero. I mean, the dude does wear tights. michael made me ask myself what 8 gold medals I would like to win? he reminded me that maybe I'm not supposed to eat a pound of pasta for lunch and be the fastest swimmer in the world, but I am supposed to put everything I've got into becoming the holder of the most gold medals in the history of me. into the pool of potential I must dive and butterfly myself to the other side. now if you'll excuse me, I better shave my legs.

be all that you can be in the LACC

who knew the treasures waiting for my shovel. in the mail a promise - "make new friends" the cover reads. in my hands the key to my unlocked potential - the los angeles city college fall catalog.

let the friend making begin.

but how does one choose which friends they would like to meet? what types take "BE YOUR OWN PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR" or "QUICK AND DIRTY SELF DEFENSE"? is a "BALLOON WORKSHOP" just full of class clowns? and should I be nervous in a classroom full of people studying "HOW TO GET A U.S. POST OFFICE JOB"? would I connect with the folks in the course that teaches you to "READ ALL DAY & GET PAID FOR IT!"? or would "SCREENWRITING WARRIORS" or "FRUIT & VEGETABLE CARVING" offer a more promising group of pupils?

as I read I realize that with a few hours time and hundred bucks or less, I could become anyone or do anything. "YOU'VE WRITTEN A SONG, NOW WHAT?" you mean for $30 you can tell me in one Saturday what I've been trying to figure out for over a decade? and after all the stuggle, in six days I can finally have "GUITAR MADE EASY" for only 70 bucks? and after all these years spent throwing money away on cramped city apartments, it only takes three simple thursdays and $95 to finally "LIVE - RENT FREE!!!"

the options, my friends, are limitless. who do you want to meet? who do you want to become? I suggest you grab your community college catalog and start registering for the future!

and then

and then for three long days we woke in the dark and spread out the substance of my family's discarded past and we sold it to our neighbors. good friends came over and helped and we rewarded them with donuts and mimosas. we drank, a lot, and we talked with strangers holding things we had once wanted. buying clothes we had once worn. skimming through books we had once read. we sold everything for pennies. thousands and thousands of pennies.

a 22 foot truck full of stuff

and after all the stuff was collected, we loaded it into a big yellow truck and we drove 1383 miles back to LA. 'cause we're crazy like that.

mining for memories

these are the times that make me wish I were a better writer, or at least a mad scientist who could make a time machine and transport myself into the future where I finally am. I want to express the whirlwind and the heat and the exhaustion caused by frustration and the frustration caused by exhaustion. I am still tired. days later. I am still trying to return from the deep.

it is times like these that no one, except for the monkey on your back, can attest to the craziness and the epic quality of such feats. in written form it all seems simple, and I sound guilty of over-dramatizing something rather mundane. but this, my fair reader, is where you must trust me. this shit was karazy.

it all seemed easy enough as we talked about it over lunch. jG and I would fly to Idaho to help my parents get rid of all the junk filling up my childhood home. a beautiful home built to house my two parents and their 4 children. enough toilets for each behind. enough square footage for a circus. but the clock ticked and eventually the rooms vacated. until this september when all that was left in the big space were my parents and a mountain of unclaimed stuff. enter in the super heroes wearing sweat pants and unwashed faces. for five uninterrupted days, we sifted - mining the memories from the mountains of excess. so much stuff.

what do you get when you have money to spend and space to fill? - shit to get rid of.

so that is what we did, for five full days of early mornings and late nights. we got rid of a lot of stuff. so much stuff. the house grew bigger and my parents grew taller. and it felt good. getting rid of things that were no more and tastes that had changed and opinions that had matured. cleansing the house of who they had been, who we had been, and leaving open cupboards to be filled with new ideas. we are not supposed to stay the same, why would we keep all the same stuff? why would we spend our days tripping over all the old junk that's filling up our lives when we could make room for the new? yes, it is nothing short of epic to let go and move on, but that old t-shirt you swear you can't live without will prove you wrong. it will go and you will stay and you will be okay. and you will find a new and better t-shirt, one that you will eventually, hopefully let go of. your grandmother's dishes don't love you back. the children's books you used to read to your now grown children are dusty and there are children being born that need them more than your shelves. let go. give it all away and watch what you get in return.

the 33-year-old frosting rose

I am currently in idaho because I am a good and selfless daughter. ok, so maybe there are other, less laura ingalls wilder reasons. like, I can't help but want to go through every square inch of my parents 3300 square foot home with countless closets and crannies (otherwise known as crammies) saying to my mother, "really, you want to keep this? I mean, it's ugly and out-dated and serves no purpose past or present and certainly won't serve any future purpose other than sitting on this overstuffed shelf." and so continues the hours and the days. closet after closet, cupboard after cupboard. you try having 4 children, and being raised by obsessive compulsive religiously guilt ridden, frugal as f*@# parents from the depression and not having a house full of shit you don't need.

examples: warranty manuals for a cassette deck purchased in 1983, wrapping paper from every birthday gift ever received and opened, carefully removed and then folded up and put away for future birthdays, 46 (I counted) unburned candles, a sears christmas catalog from 1988, one small lumpy unrecognizable item I could not identify until my mom informed me was a decorative edible rose from their wedding cake, shoved in their collective faces almost 33 YEARS AGO. a 33 year-old frosting rose.

now of course there are other awesome finds like my dad's banjo picks that I remember putting on the small of my childhood fingers, and the porcelain grape tea set that my mom and I would tea party together with, and oh, the soft and lovely floral of the sheets that covered my mother's 16-year-old bed.

today is only day 2. one day down and pounds and pounds of garbage thrown. but also, good times spent with my mom, and happy memories remembered. and the bad memories? put in their proper place - the city dump.

and another reason

why I love LA #813

family history

in the process of going through some old photos, I came across this gem. my family circa 1893 as told by 1993. frozen in a time both real and imagined. a fake setting capturing some real love.
(click on the pic for maximum viewing pleasure.)

bowl a mile in my shoes

in times like these, when everything is uncertain -- friends (not friend, but friendS) moving out of your fair city, rent yet to be payed one week into the month, the weight of all life's glorious possibilities lying heavy on your chest -- there is only one thing to do... go bowling. drink gin and tonics with dirty limes. eat lumpy nachos and cheesy pizza. wipe the grease on your jeans before you stick those faithful digits of yours into the mysteries of a public bowling ball. laugh at how good or how bad you are. keep your mind in and your ball out of the gutter. enjoy the sound of a strike and the bright of florescence shining on polished wood. it is here that we can revel in the sight of another man bowling in our shoes. look around. we are not alone.

we all do

eventually, our siblings will marry and our friends with get pregnant, and we will be forced to realize that we are no longer children. our families will expand and our friends will become parents. this crazy fact is both beautiful and alarming. and as we watch our brothers say I do, we think of our own weddings. and as we watch our friends change their daughter's diaper, we think of our own plans.

my brother just got married. it was a simple wedding set in the woods of north idaho. the bride wore flip flops and the groom wore a tuxedo t-shirt. the wedding party was comprised of their three children. it was truly a beautiful ceremony that made even the mountain men shiny-eyed.

our family was together.

when you see your family grow as the vows are made, you realize how complicated such a thing as family can be. if you're lucky you will like all the additions, but that doesn't always happen, and then what? do you love your sibling less for the mess of a partner they choose? and what if your friend bears and then raises a bratty child? will their choices drive you apart? life is this shifting thing that we are always wanting to hold still. but the calm we seek would make us crazy. life and love and family and friendship are complicated things, but we partake in them because the alternative is so quiet. we fill our lives with the things that make music. sometimes it is beautiful music and sometimes it just sounds like noise. but the absence of this music would break every experience. and so we keep surrounding ourselves with the sound and complication of love and we dance when it moves us and accept all the other times when we want to plug our ears. the lonely of quiet keeps us listening to the music of life.