11 January
Alright, I did jack shit yesterday, so I have nothing too pressing to write about that I cannot write about my holidays!
20 December
I flew back to LA, getting to the airport nearly two hours early. I figured missing two plane in a single year was quite enough.
The guy who checked me into my flight looked right into my face and said "Have a good flight, sir!" and as I walked up the gangplank I finally thought of a good retort! I mean, I have been called sir my entire adult life, fat or thin, skirt or trousers, long hair or short, it doesn't matter--people see the height and think "sir". But what I am going to say from now on is "Thank you, ma'am!" (or "sir", of course, if it's a woman).
It's simple, it's classic, it's effective.
I got to Burbank two hours late, which wasn't bad, because we left Dallas/Fort Worth three hours late! But it was too late to go over to my friends Rita and Simon's house to see their band play on the show Premium Blend on Comedy Central.
I did, however, get to my house in time to see it, and it was just fantastic. Their band is called Lust Pollution, if you catch it on the re-run, Rita is the singer and Simon is the guitar player.
Rita and Simon are a couple of the most interesting people I know, they are successful at everything, acting, writing, music; individually they are amazing go-getters, together they are unstoppable.
(See guys, I told you I'd write about you!)
21 December 1997
Before I went back to LA, I contacted Sandra asked her if she would care to meet me. She suggested having a little get-together with two other LA based journalists, Juan and Diane. I said "O, Diane Patterson doesn't want to meet ME!" but they both said yes, which was a shock to me.
Of course, I managed to leave town without the address or the time of the event, but since my mother had made me tell her the address and directions and she had written them down (I remember saying "O Mom, you're not writing this down are you?") so I could get there, but I didn't have the time. I was pretty certain that it was 8p, but when I got there I was informed that it was, in fact, 6.30, and Diane had been there but had had to leave!
Even Diane-less I had a swell time. I had never read Juan's journal, though it was on my list of ones that I wanted to go through (I did cram a few months before leaving New York), but he was really sweet, and Sandra and her boyfriend Joel were great.
Their apartment is incredible--it looks like Pee-Wee's Playhouse. Many of us, if faced with a plain filing cabinet, would think "You know what I'd like to do? I'd like to paint this turquoise with swirly designs!" and then we'd go back to our lives, every so often thinking "I really must paint that filing cabinet!" but Sandra actually goes and does it! If I lived in LA I'd beg her to decorate for me.
Afterwards, Sandra wrote to her notify that I was "larger than life" and no she didn't mean fat; she meant loud and cheerful and hilarious and things. This was, of course, because I'm so shy around strangers. I really must stop over-compensating so much.
Anyway, we had homemade pizza and watched The Road to Singapore and talked all night and had a great time. She gave each of us a copy of a book she wrote on rubber stamping called Rubber Soul and I dreamt about rubber stamping all night. I'm telling you, that's an activity I had best stay the fuck away from, because even though I have never been anywhere near it, it's the sort of thing that I could see myself becoming obsessive about.
This entry is long enough. More to come!
One year ago today:
It's like some sort of aural torture device.
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Last Updated Sat 9 May 19:21:09 1998