San Clemente...

I'm going to blog now, and just ignore the fact that I'm back at work, and we may close our doors before the end of the year, leaving me jobless and moving back home. I'm going to ignore that and fuck working right now because I feel like whats the point. So - time to write about SC.

Wednesday morning I headed down and met up with mom at our time share in San Clemente. My grandparents purchased this about 5 years ago. We get 1 week a year down in San Clemente - the resorts being right on the corner where the pier is. So you basically cross the street and your on the beach. You overlook the ocean. They're beautiful. The only downfall is the train tracks and a station are also right there - so dont plan on sleeping to well....

So last week was our week. Wednesday was overcast and a bit chilly when I got down there. Mom and I visited, then the boy came down in the afternoon. The sun peeked out a bit, and the boy and I lounged on the beach. No suit for me, too cold, but nice to just nap on the towel. Wednesday night the 3 of us had dinner at my favorite spot - Fishermans Wharf - the sports grill side. We had yummy dinners, wine and a dessert the size of a large child. Thursday we all got up, had coffee on the balcony overlooking the ocean and the weather was perfect. Clear, warm, gorgeous. The boy and I went to the beach and sunbathed, slept, played in the water, walked the pier all day. Dinner again at Fishermans Wharf - this time just he & I, bucket of muscles, oysters, wine....Yummmmmmmy. He went back home. Mom and I watched Sweeney Todd.

Friday mom and I had plans for San Diego Wild Animal Park. We leave the cold, overcast San Clemente and arrive at the hot as fuck park. We pay to get in. (Way overpriced) and meander. I do see my favorite little Meerkats - we see Gorrillas - big ones - lots of birds. On to the tram ride. My little spot was in the sun the whole time. Fuck me. The tram chick never actually stopped so I never got to shoot any of the animals - not that it really mattered - the fuckers were so far away. You can pay an assload extra to take these other "tours" that put you a bit closer. Whatever. Mom and I were a bit annoyed. So we finish that and try to cover the park. Next stop we thought it'd be fun to go to feed the Lorkeets. Well, mom did. I'm not much of a bird person to be perfectly honest with you. I noticed the little girl inside and she couldnt get any of them to come to her. So I figured, it wont be so bad. NO. We go in and my mom has the little cup of nector - they fly at her. Then they fly at me! I have no nector you fuckers! I mean like 5-10 of these little birds attacking you. Mom gives me the nector because she's getting mauled. I squeal out of pure terror. She laughs and snaps photos. I give the nector back to her. The birds dont realize this and still fly at me. One lands on my head. I'm squealing and shreaking to get it off!!!! Needless to say - this was probably one of my most brilliant comic performances known to date. At least my mother thought so.

I'd like to point out something here.San Diego Wild Animal Park is ENORMOUS. I respect this, animals not in cages, its more of a reserve, etc etc. But warn a person!!!!!!!!!! We hiked uphills, downhills, sweating, bitching, dying to get to a clearing where the animals were never to be found. They were eithier sleeping or hiding. We got completly looped out at one point, I tried to put on sunblock and literally it leaped out of my hand and down a hill in which of course I had to stumble down to get. Everytime you saw a fellow dumbass like ourselves on this walk - they'd be sweating, bitching, dying as well. Noone was happy. Oh and the map they give you - fucking retarded. Dont bother. Every corner you turned another poor sap and his family is staring at the map in utter confusion - so at least we werent alone. We get some lunch. Its raining whatever the hell is falling off the trees into our food. Then a bee - A very angry determined bee - wants my lunch. He dives into my $7 diet coke and drowns. I had gotten one sip. Awesome. So after a long day. A very long day, mom and I head out - had fun but very dissappointed.

Next stop Carlsbad Outlet. My mother is insane. She still wanted to shop. So we did. This was fun, we found some good deals on things. We had a blast, but my feet were screaming with agony as were hers. We head back to our time share and collaspe in the jacuzzi. Perfect. So nice. Saturday I wake up and its cold and overcast. I mean COLD! I'm a bit dissappointed, but its still so nice. The boy comes down, but we never leave the room. He's watching football, mom and I visit on the balcony. Freezing. Saturday nite I head home a little earlier then planned, but nice because I'm able to get a few things done.

All in all it was a lovely few days. So nice to get away. So nice to not think. So nice to forget about the world crumbling around me.

Economy Slap...

I might lose my job.
Just typing that sentence scares me. The Opera is struggling. No suprise there. But now that the economy has taken a downward spiral at a nerveracking quick pace, we're really struggling. I see the signs. I've been here for 10 years and been in this situation a few times before. I notice the tension, the closed doors, the whispers. We had a meeting today trying to calm any fears when we hear we're selling our building. Calm any fears that the powers that be are really trying and making the efforts and doing everything they possible can to save us. Even our chairmen came in. His speech made most feel at ease. It made me cry inside. I can read between the lines of what he said. I see the looks on the faces of our higher ups. I know. We're fucked. Alot of our big time supporters got slammed recently with the crashing stocks and market and economy. They'll be ok yes - but the organizations they support will suffer. Thats us. Thats my job. Thats my income.
In the same breath, a friend of mine is getting a promotion. Another friend of mine got a fat bonus last month. Another friend of mine got a bonus this week. Another friend of mine got a fat bonus today. I want to celebrate this good news. I want to be happy and go get drinks and dinner and celebrate saying "You've deserved it! You've worked so hard! Congradulations! I'm so happy for you!". All that is true, it is, but sadly my selfish nature cant be happy. Instead I cant celebrate. I'm scared. All I want to do is go home and cry myself to sleep and wake up and this all be a bad dream. I wake up and our economy is flourishing. Gas prices are low. Etc. Etc. Etc. I figured writing this out a bit, would help a bit. It does.
I'll try to be positive. If I have to move back home with my mom (Which I will if OP closes its doors) at least I have that option. Some dont. We're not shut down yet - a miracle could happen and OP could survive. The economy could take and upward turn. I just have to hold on and hope. I am happy for my friends successes. I am. They all well deserve it. I am surrounded by fantastic people. I have some shows coming up I want to be in. I'm trying really hard to get creative again. It will be ok.
But damn, am I scared. I'm really scared.

Girls Night.....Boys Night....

Friday night was girls night. I had made plans with one of my girlfriends, then had another girlfriend contact me asking to hang the same night. I've had 3 other girlfriends in the past couple of weeks say "We need a girls night!". Since all of these people know each other, I 1st asked the gal I made plans with if it we should turn our night into a girls night instead of just the 2 of us. We did. It turned out to be exactly what the Dr. ordered I think.
I dont know how to explain it, but I really do think it's so healthy for girls to get together and be just that - girls. I'm also so stoked that I have a great connection to all these women and kind of brought them all together. 3 of us met a bit earlier and had dinner, cooked by the fabulous Miss Rose who is starting her own chef company as she very well should because that woman can fucking cook! I rarely eat home cooked meals, and when I do its so special because not only is it amazing because of who makes it, but its such a unique thing for me! I eithier eat out, or microwave stuff. Thats it. Honestly. I just dont cook, nor will I ever.
Anywhoo - 7 of us ladies got together at one's house. We had more then enuff bottles of wine - red & white. We had chocolate covered strawberries, cupcakes, cheese/crackers, nuts, sushi, rice krispie treats, and a crap load more snacks. We laughed. We talked about sex, about politics, about relationships, about art. We drank heavily. We'd all chat together, we'd break into pairs or trios. We took pictures. Did I mention how much we laughed? GOUSNUCHOS! It was an estrogen explosion. There wasnt one moment of cattiness, one moment of drama, one moment of anything negative. All we did was gather together and enjoy being girls. We've all sworn to do this more often, but with all of our lives, schedules etc I have no idea how much we can make it happen - but let me say this. It was a perfect evening. I have always absolutley loved my girlfriends but then there are the times where you seriously just need a night with a gaggle of them! This was my Friday night.
Saturday night/Sunday was spent with the boy. I had to work at an opera under the stars concert Sat nite, but was able to skate out early and drove my ass up from Laguna Beach to Los Angeles. The main point of this eve was not nessasarily to see the particular band at House of Blues, but to meet a couple of his friends - one of them from out town only here Sat nite. (He's with the band). We booked a hotel for the nite to alliviate having to drive home late from LA, drinking, etc. So, I get off at Santa Monica Blvd. and follow my mapquest directions. What mapquest failed to mention is that Santa Monica Blvd. splits into 2. Well - of course I take the wrong fucking split. I dont know about you BUT I HATE TO BE LOST. I find the street I'm supposed to "Turn Right" on. This is a lie. I drive down it until it dead ends into a scary alley way. I'm on the phone with the boy whose standing at the hotel trying to guide me and give me landmarks, etc. After an excrutiatingly long 25 unnessasary minutes I find the damn place. Of course I'm super late now, the friend is on the way to pick us up, we run upstairs grab our crap and hop in his car and head to H.O.B. I meet 3 of the buddies. They are very cool. We get to the venue, park in back, get our VIP after show bright blue stickers and our tickets. We watch the show. The buddies continue to buy me rum & cokes all night. I have not eaten. I dont get drunk, but I do get that nice - drinking on an empty stomach tipsy regretting not eating feeling. We chat, we laugh, despite all the warnings of how much Sister Hazel will blow, I enjoyed them. They put on a wonderful live show. Concert ends, we head upstairs to the foo-foo fancy room to hang with the band and thier peeps. I find a nice fluffy sofa and chat with the friends. I think I made a good impression. The boy has returned and giving me the signal to leave. He's got other late nite plans....So we head out, deciding we'll walk back. We thought it was so much closer......
So both of us now have enuff alcohol in us to not be wasted but be that fun fucked up. I'm also now STARVING. As we're trekkin down Sunset Blvd, I see "Mel's Diner". We must stop. Its about 1:30am. I order a steak sandwich from our super happy waiter named John, and proceed to eat the whole thing. The boy is in awe, I dont know why, he knows how I eat. :) We start back on our walk back. Its now about 2:15 I think. Now, I must point out - I'm wearing my cute little silver wedgey heels. Yes, they are comfy as hell, but not when walking, tipsy in the wee hours trying to find our hotel. The best part is both of us are in the mindset of...well....that we completly lost our minds and are stumbling and laughing our way down Sunset. We see Doheny Street - this is where the hotel is! Yay!!!! We then stumble down that street for what seemed like days. My feet are screaming. We stop for breaks. I make many attempts to just waltz into people's houses to ask if they mind we just crash on thier floor. We laugh, we joke but we're fucking gone at this point. I love it. We FINALLY get to our hotel sometime after 3am. We collaspe, we dont get to sleep until almost 5am. I'll leave those couple of hours in between to your imagination. Mr. early bird is up at 8:30am like a bored child, so we get up much much earlier then I would have preferred. We come back down to the OC and decide to walk around The Block the whole Sunday afternoon. He needed some things - he's got a gf now who can guide him where to get them. The best part is, it was so lazy. The place wasnt crowded, we were in no hurry, we just wandered around lazily all day. We ate 3 times. Pasta, sushi then ice cream. 2 glasses of wine with sushi put me over the edge. We came home around 6pm intending to watch some football or go to the beach to watch the sunset - instead we napped for about an hour. The exhaustion of the weekend collasping down on both of us like an anvil falling from the heavens. After he left I spent a good part of the evening discussing politics and relationships and life with my roomate and finally collasped into a rumbly tummy, tipsy, exhausted pile.
It was a great weekend. Best of both the girl worlds and boy worlds.

Passion and Poltics....

So last nite was almost a very cool eve out with someone special. Laughing, talking, Dolce & Gabana sunglasses, ANTM, and wine invovled. But something hit me that I felt I must vent a bit about here in my place of rambling, writing, venting, etc etc etc....
(In fact I warn this may not make sense, but may end up more of a purging of thoughts....)

Honestly I'm not a hugely political person. I'm really not. I'm probably one of the least political beings in my theater dept. I'm really just a simple minded gal who wants to love life and live it and try to bring positive and light to the world. Yup...I'm a fucking tree huggin hippie ok! But I do have things I feel passionate about, and there are certain times the little political nature I do have comes to the surface. Our economy has taken a major dive. Bush has basically fucked right up. We're in an unnessasary war that we need to get the hell out of. On and on and on and everyone has already heard all of this and already knows.
This current upcoming election tho gives me a small - very small - ray of hope. I'm not particulary in love with Obama, but I like him. McCain and his white trash princess can fuck right off. I'm not a conservative. I'm not close minded. I'm not judgemental. I'm not religious. I'm not racist. I live in Orange County but I do not live "behind the orange curtain". I actually hate the fact that I live in a county thats majority republican. I also hate the fact that I live in "The OC" which has pretty much been deemed as the upper class, socialite, snooty, cosmetically enhanced, rich, white, conversative, vane place EVER it seems! Anyway...I'm getting off the subject.
I know one person cant change things. But they can start. Their party and thier co-horts can. Things can start to improve. Change can happen. It has too or this country is going to go down in flames. Its scary as hell. My class - where me and most of my family and friends fall - is going to suffer. I supposed you'd call us lower working class? We're fucked. People who have money will not be affected - they never are - . Like that phrase "The rich get richer and the poor get poorer".
Last nite as we were walking into a restaurant, 2 women in front of us were laughing and clutching each other. They turn to us "Dont worry - we're not lesbians, we're just mother and daughter!". Um ok. What the fuck ever. Then the mother proceeds to say - "And vote McCain! He's the only way things will change!" I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her. "Oh, your both democrats arent you!". "She is" my date says. "Well, vote repulican!" the woman says and they head inside. I felt like I got slapped in the face. The angry, firey, tempermental Irish nature flooded into my face and I wanted to punch her so hard in the face until she apologized for being so fucking rude. I also felt extremly stupid for not saying something or coming back with something witty or nasty or SOMETHING. I think I was just taken aback that some old rich bitch and her fucking daughter have the nerve to throw that in my face. He says "Why are you so upset?". I cant respond right away. The host leads us to our seats - you can sit over here where the beautiful fire place is and its a bit cozy or over here and points to the other side. The 2 women are in the area where the fireplace is. "Way over there please," I say getting as far away from them as I can. Also a little miffed that where I would have rather sit has been tainted by these women. We sit. We start in a bit...I cant argue politics. I just cant. I feel so passionate about certain things, I get upset, I get heated. He doesnt understand. He and I have completly different views. Thats fine, but when I'm worked up like that I"ve realized I just cant. I excuse myself to the restroom where I burst into tears.
Why did I get so upset! Why did I let those stupid women get under my skin!!! I was so furious. I compose myself and return. We do discuss some more somewhat rationally as I try to prove my arguement but its hard. Its very very hard. I'm not good with words and while I'm not an idiot, I'm not the most knowledgable person eithier.
The night took an upward turn because he cares and hes sweet and he actually enjoys when I get fired up and so we moved on forgetting for a while, and having some fun. But I cant help but say, its got to me. Our society. Our world. Our economy. All the stuff I've read, heard, watched about the elections. Its been growing. Its been getting to me. Stabbing at my soul and heart. It finally got to me last nite. I had nightmares all night.
Godammit I wish I had the power to save the world. But I dont.

Smoking

I am a smoker.
I am a true blood die hard smoker.
There are alot of people out there who "smoke". But there's a difference between a real smoker and someone who "smokes".
I'm a real smoker. I have been smoking since I was 12 years old. I started smoking regularly when I hit college. I was up to 2-3 packs a day. When someone described or imitated me they were drinking coffee, smoking and swearing. I have been referred to on many occasions as the female Dennis Leary. I love to smoke. I love to sit on my patio and inhale my American Spirits. I love to watch the smoke roll up into the air in artistic swirls. Smoking has become an extention of my body. I crave a cig after I eat. I crave when I drive. I crave when I drink. I constantly crave. The nicotine. The hand to mouth gratification. The look. The feel. The smell. The taste. I am a true blood smoker. I have smoked my entire life.

On that note - I want to quit.

I'm sure I'm going to get encouraging comments. "You can do it!" "Your strong!" "I believe in you!". This is all well and good. But I cant express to you how hard this will be. I'm not whining, or making excuses, I'm being honest. I'm not even sure I'm ready to do it. I told myself I'd quit when I dont love to smoke anymore. I'm afraid this is never going to happen. I told myself I'd quit when I turn 35. This was an ultimatum I gave myself. I'm only 32, but I'm afraid of failure. I want to maybe start making this attempt now and maybe by the time I turn 35 - I will actually be able to quit smoking. I'm being realistic here. Smoking is a part of my life. Unless you are or were a true hard core smoker as myself, you cant understand the gravity of this change. This will be a lifestyle change. I HAVE SMOKED MY ENTIRE LIFE. This is something I'm scared that I'm not going to be able to achieve.

I'm not going any sort of medical route. No Chamix. No pills. No gum. No hypnosis. Just me. Stopping my way. No pressure on myself. Again - I'm not sure if I'm going to start this quite yet, but its a thought. Its a growing thought creeping into my head. I've been quite sick for 2 months. 2 of them being sinus realted. A nasty sinus infection a few weeks ago. Now a brutal cold, that has now moved into my chest and I have the prettiest bronchial deep chest cough. I dont want to be sick anymore.

I go back and forth. I think of Europeans. They smoke like chimneys. You dont hear about the unhealthy Brits. They smoke, eat, drink and live life. I appreciate this. I know people in thier 90's that have smoked all thier lives and have no health issues. I see people smoke all the time. Its glamorized. Its "badass". Then on the flip side I hear of lung cancer. I get scared when my sinuses feel like knives shooting thru my face. I had a dream a while ago that I got cancer of the sinuses due to smoking. You taste like cigs. Theres good and bad.

I want to notice a difference in the way I feel. I want to feel healthy. I dont want to crave/need ANYTHING. I deem this as weak. I am not weak. The fact that I cannot quit smoking is weak. So ladies and gentlemen...bear with me.....I may fail, I may be a complete bitch, I may go thru withdrawls, I may not even go thru with this but the thought is there. Its there.

Sick Vegas Weekend....

Literally. For me anyway. I woke up Friday morning with a scratchy throat and a cold. Nice. I love that the past couple of months I have fallen apart physically it seems and they always land when I'm taking vacation or doing something fun. WTF! Whatever. I felt like death on a cracker, but not bad enuff to not go.
Ber and T arrive at mom's house (Mom and I switched cars) and we got off to a bit later start then planned, but still out an onto the fwy early. Us 3 chatted, laughed, sang along to tunes (Well, I didnt...) discussed ping pong options, photographed road shots, stopped multiple times to pee (I was trying to soothe my throat and drinking alot of water), etc etc. We arrived in Stateline - I was starving - we got some sandwiches, chowed and hit the road again. We arrived in Vegas sometime around 2 or so. The J-ster was loungin by the pool waiting for us. (She flew).
We checked in, scouted out our room and got settled. Desert Rose is lovely - the comparison - Polo Towers has a better bathroom and a better location. Desert Rose has a better pool and no elevators. We head to Vons to stock up on weekend snacks and drinks, buy way too much as always and head back in time for the "Free Live Entertainment and Complimentary Drinks & Food" in the lobby. Sweet! We all roll into the lobby. Its fantastic. Our "Live Entertainment" is a hairy fellow playing bad elevator music on a casio keyboard. As we walk in we all get stared at as if us 4 ladies are from Jupiter. We get in line for the booze. We all get our little plastic wine cups and peer at the "snacks". It looks like someone threw up in a pan. We pass. We head outside. The one catch about staying at timeshare resort things is we were probably the youngest ones there. By about 60 years. Or the only Americans. Whatever. I love it. We venture back inside because its time for the door prizes! Lying bitches. No door prizes. Just a trip to San Antonio Texas that the only other young people won. The blue hairs were not pleased. The plate of barf has now taken a shape of actual tater tots or something...we taste...its like rubber goo. Yum.
Nite arrives. I know I'm too sick to play, but I can at least get dinner. The fabulous foursome walks to Hooters. This is next door and we were hungry. Before we eat we play some Dukes of Hazzard penny slots. I make out a bit with Bo Duke and we get in line for dinner. We get a lovely busted up Hooter Girl as our waitress. Food was shit. Ber was frightened of her wings. Understandably so. Who makes them with fucking butter! My burger moo'ed back at me when I bit into it. J's chowder looked similar to the potatoe barf. Whatever. We eat, we head out - J & T head off to play, Ber and I head back to the room. Ber's beat - I'm sick. We call it an early night. Fucking cold.
Saturday Ber and I head to catch some rays at the pool. Its cloudy. I mean rain cloudy. In fact it sprinkled a bit on us. Whatever. It was hot and I was hoping to dry up my cold. So we "pretended" to sunbathe. J joined us later. We smiled at the leather couple that walked by. Woman looked like a brown blow up doll. Back to the room. T wants to do some sight seeing. J is tired from a late prior eve, so just the 3 of us head out.
We stop at Tropicana at the cafe for lunch. Then wander the pool area a bit. It was like something out of a bad 80's movie. Altho the swim up blackjack was nifty. Cab ride to Wynn. $20. Jesus. None of us had been here before. Absolutley gorgeous. Its Bellagio pretty but not over done. Fab things hanging from the ceiling, an incredible water fall like wall thing out side. Note to self - I want to dine out there next time...
We head to Venetian. T & Ber have never been here, I have and adore it. We wander the Palazzo shops 1st. The highlight of our adventure is this art gallery we wander into. AMAZING artwork. Characterizations of musicians, mob art, cartoons, etc. Its fantastic. We also happen to find the David & Goliath store. I dont know how long we were in there but I havent laughed that hard in ages. I bought a tank top. We wander thru Venetian. Live statues, jugglers, we watch the godolas. We then wander to Paris - another one T hadnt seen and wanted to explore. We wandered the shops, I yearned for some pastries. By the time we leave Paris we figure we'll just walk back since we're half way there. Down the strip we trek. Its crowded, hot and long. T and I mistakenly wore flip flops. By the time we arrive back to our room we're done. We collaspe and attempt to recover. For me this does not happen. My cold kicked into full speed. Ber and I hit the jacuzzi in attempt to release sore muscles and call it an early nite. T and J like troopers head out to party again. I lay in bed, tissue to nose almost in tears because I want to play too. My wine fuzz knocks me out.
Sunday we get up, check out and waltz over to MGM determined to have a breakfast buffet. A nice sting in the wallet later we sit down. Buffet is the bomb. Our waitress is a cunt. Its rare I want to punch someone in the mouth, but this woman came close. I hope she trips and cuts her ugly bitchy face on a mimosa glass. We roll out, stuffed and happy and head back to the car. We hit the road home.
We laugh, we chat, we discuss the weekend. We had 4 goals. Laid, Marriage, Get Well, Win Money. 2 out of 4 aint bad. We especially giggle at the fact that one of us ladies did have a "What happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas" moment. God save the queen.
Love to my ladies for a fun weekend despite the fact I was ill the whole time. But the good thing is - its Vegas. Sin City is our neighbor. I'll be seein her again real soon. This time...Club Tao/Freemont Street/Wynn drinks.