...But I really will try to update more often. For the last couple of months, we've been extremely busy house-hunting. Now that we've finally found a place, I'm basking in a brief lull. Expect pictures once we move in - it's a dozen acres, wooded and pasture land; there's a gorgeous trout stream running through the property, as well as elk, owls and other assorted woodland creatures; and the main house itself is in pristine condition, which believe me is much appreciated after some of the other places we've seen. At one rambling old property I told my boyfriend, "I could see myself committing suicide here." Many resembled Miss Haversham's mansion in 'Great Expectations'; I kept expecting to see a rotting wedding cake on the dining room table.
This will be my fifth move in seven years, and I'm intoxicated by the idea of settling in someplace. It's almost more than I can wrap my mind around. There are four bedrooms in the main house, and lots of room to grow on; my boyfriend has already claimed the quadruple garage as a future rec room. The smaller house, or cottage, needs only a new paint job. The previous owners did so much with the property: rehabbing, landscaping, adding walls and benches and flagstone steps around the creek area. There's even a tiny, ancient cemetery hidden deep into the woods; it's charming and shouldn't be disturbed for anything.
Whenever I get the chance I've been writing feverishly. I suspect that when we move into this new place, I'll be even more productive - a sense of stability is something I've always craved, and while the last several years have brought me so much (knowledge, a resurgence in creativity, a wonderful, generous person) that's always been missing. Not anymore.
04.16.04: Is That A Blog In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?
Dayum, where have I been? All over, as it turns out.
Five states in five weeks, and then I came home and slept for about eight days. First up (since we 'spoke' last) was a superfly trip to Seattle with my best friend. We shacked up at the Westin downtown, which was extremely nice and vaguely underscored my inner low-brow, fried-chicken-with-ranch-dressing nature. Needless to say, we had a great time. She went to her uber-professional conference during the day, and I walked around and got to know the guy who sells the homeless newspaper and the owner of the grocery that provides the best WiFi around. Then in the evenings, it was an adventure of eating! All I will say is that I visited multiple booths at Pike Place in the space of half an hour, and Bean once ordered something called 'Titan's Toothpicks'. Right before I left, I was able to see both Gobi Rex and one of my favorite fanfic writers ever, Brynn McK. Gobi was the absolute darling I expected; we didn't get to hang much but I was so happy to just spend time with her at last. She's my sweetheart. And Brynn and I simply picked up immediately where we'd left off months ago when she came to Colorado, which I think is the mark of any good friendship. I fear I didn't acquit myself properly at our unlimited soup, salad and breadsticks meal, but I promise to make up for it when I see her again. It was a spectacular trip and I hope Bean and I do it again soon.
After Seattle was New York - my long-awaited tryst with Nauti and Love! They were kind enough to meet me at LaGuardia and thus induct us all into the Mile-High Club. Then it was back to their amazing house, the sex-gods known as Honey and Peanut, and lots of cheesecake and Swoops. We went into the city Friday night, so I got my culture on hardcore, yo. I think I'm good for the next year or two. We ate at a great restaurant, and Nauti and I ended up switching plates halfway through. Macaroni and cheese followed by calamari - you don't know what you're missing. Saturday and Sunday were the con in Secaucus and it was everything I hoped it would be. I finally got to meet DrinkThePoison from All About Spike and she treated me to vegan Cheetos - which Iyari Limon promptly commandeered! There's a lot I'll tolerate, but I'm really not good at sharing food. I also met VixKitten, who's so funny and sweet, and Love's cousin who grew up on the same street in the same town as I did.
Me: "Oh! Did you know [my brother]?"
Love's Cuz: "I didn't know him. But I knew of him."
Finally on Monday it was time for me to jet back to the land of mountains and elk burgers, Colorado. Nauti and Love could not have been better hosts, and they were really sweet when they declined to tie me up in the basement and let me live with them forever and ever.
Whew! Next up was Wyoming, to look at a couple of ranches. That's right, I said it! Ranches. It was exciting, and anywhere I go with my boyfriend is fun, and I think the area was not quite as desolate as I expected. I already saw the house I want, and it cost slightly more than the change I had in my pocket.
On the opposite of that spectrum (current median home price in Los Angeles County: $375,000) was our next trip to California. We stayed over in Vegas for a night, then settled into Newport Beach for the remainder of our visit. I was alternately thrilled to see my friends, and desperately relieved that I didn't live there anymore. My perspective has been hopelessly colored by my experiences out there, and now I can view it solely as a place I go to see the people I care about. Speaking of - we got to chill with KJ Draft and her wonderful fiance at Miceli's, an old Hollywood restaurant recently given homage in 'Alias'. We didn't stay as long as I expected - I think as soon as my boyfriend arrived he was ready to leave - so I want to get back again sometime. But ultimately, I was very happy to be home.
What else? Lots of stuff, that I'll hopefully post about soon. Did my taxes. Ate four Hot Pockets in one sitting, followed by a bucket of chicken. Dragged the Kept Woman concept to new lows, and had my usual serving of reality television.
I also had some developments re: original writing, the details of which I don't feel comfortable discussing but which have made the last few weeks crazy/beautiful. Thanks to everyone who's given me support and encouragement in that area. It mattered.
02.05.04: Girl Gone Mild
"You're beautiful! The crowd loves you! Please take off your shirt."
Last night we went to the filming of 'Girls Gone Wild', because of course the people we know are the people who can get us into that sort of event. Make of this what you will.
I'm always happy to go out dancing, and yesterday evening was no exception. Granted, I was completely surrounded by rabid screaming horny college guys wearing plastic beads, but I'm really not sure if that's a disadvantage. I tried to stay away from the cameras, and I'm pretty sure the cameras stayed away from me because I remained fully clothed throughout the night. Still, it was a fun and extremely educational experience - basically I learned that if you tell someone to do something enough times? Eventually they'll do it. Really, it was like a T&A object lesson. And we ended the evening in a stretch Hummer limousine, so I feel that it was an unmitigated success. Perhaps my next cultural foray will be living with the apes like Jane Goodall, or doing some sort of archaelogical excavation...
Or wait - maybe I'll just go visit Love and Nauti in New York! Yes, I think that will serve my purposes nicely.
02.01.04: Piglet's Golden Globes Wrap-Up.
Yeah, so I'm late. Sue me. Last Sunday I plopped my sickly self down on the sofa for a thorough, comprehensive study of - you guessed it - the red carpet countdown. This is how I atrophy my brain cells. Other people smoke marijuana. And now, my stream-of-consciousness observations:
- Oh, God. Joan Rivers should not have taken her sunglasses off. Her eyes are like bottomless black pools of despair.
- This is hysterical: Melissa Rivers is flapping her arms and gesticulating wildly, panicked because "someone is trying to walk through my shot!" In between her temper tantrum is an interview with a woman identified as a 'film expert'. Hey, I could be a film expert. Do you know how many times I've watched Tommy Boy?
- Jamie Lee Curtis. Love her, but I'm gonna go out on a limb and say she shouldn't have gone grey. It's great to be one with your body and all, but you're not making your living as a brain surgeon, Jamie.
- Aw, Amber Tamblyn brought her dad, actor Russ. He's bragging shamelessly about her to Joan. While my father did not dance his way through West Side Story and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, I'm pretty sure he would have done the same thing.
- Hey! It's Bonnie Hunt, my hometown girl. "I've had more failures than anybody!" she says with a big beaming smile. Love you, Bonnie.
- I hope we have a close-up of Brittany Murphy. Whenever I see anorexic actresses I eat an extra handful of peanut butter cups.
- Okay, I'm sorry. But 1) Melissa Rivers totally needs a bra, and 2) her complete astonishment that every single show is still on the air can be taken to be rather unflattering.
- Ha! Joan is interviewing Kevin Costner and his Gen-Y fiancee. All is going well until Joan suddenly gets incisive and asks what Christine, the future Mrs. Costner, does for a living. Oh, Joan! That's just cruel. After a horribly awkward pause Christine replies that she, um, designs bags. Just like fellow corporate climber Nicky Hilton.
- Joan asks the cast of the British series The Office who they're most excited to see. A cute little chick pipes up: "President Palmer!" Me too, babe. Me too.
- Grr. Everyone and their accessories editor lauds Nicole Kidman's fashion sense, but I think all her gold hues and her blonde hair (don't even get me started) wash her out. Hmmph.
- Bernie! It's Bernie Mac!
That's all. - Boy, Melanie Griffith's 'Antonio' tattoo just doesn't get any less trashy as the years go by.
- Am I allowed to believe that Sarah Jessica Parker is frumpy and unattractive? Or will I be burned in effigy from the roof of the Beverly Center parking garage?
- Hey, Tom Cruise has the same haircut my boyfriend does. Except my boyfriend's barber shares space with the Buffalo Rose Saloon.
- You know what doesn't go together? Hershey's and orange juice.
- Peter Jackson. You can tell he's an edgy outsider because he neither washed nor combed his hair. You know who else doesn't do that? Crack addicts.
- Oh, Kiefer. Take me now.
- Look, it's E! 'news' correspondent Giuliana DePandi. I used to work with her. She was sweet.
01.20.04: Take My Lungs, Please.
Gah. So, like every other person in Colorado, I currently have some disgusting, painful and moist respiratory illness. I'm hacking intermittently, I sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters and my entire body aches. I understand that these symptoms can be indicative of pneumonia, strep throat, SARS, the West Nile virus or the Asian bird flu. Every year, I vow to get my tonsils removed - with a paring knife if necessary - but it's really the kind of thing you let slide when they're not trying to propel themselves out of your body. In the meantime, I'm focusing on my offensive strategy: eating.
I always thought that being sick should put me off my feed. Instead, all I want to do is eat. I've already raided the Safeway deli counter twice today, buying fresh soup (because suddenly, condensed Campbell's is no longer good enough for me), quiche (lorraine and veggie), homemade macaroni and cheese, donuts, Mississippi Mud Pie ice cream, and a cream cheese danish. I'm washing it all down with V8 Berry Blend Splash. See, if I have to be sick I'm going to make the rest of you nauseous as well.
After sleeping away most of yesterday, I rose in time to watch the premiere of 'American Idol' and then the InStyle celebrity wedding special. But I was miserable, so I kept making petty comments about everyone's Special Day. Next week I'm sure I will feel ashamed. Now, however, I'm off to engage in my other illness-battling activity, which is taking a hot shower. Actual ablutions are secondary in this pursuit; mostly I just want to stand under the hot spray and remember what it feels like to breathe.
01.13.04
Dude, it's been a month since I've updated! I'll blame it on the mental adjustment to my first winter in several years. Fortunately, I'm working on a nice thick layer of body insulation. It's practical, see.
What have I been up to lately? First off, I met the absolutely brilliant and adorable 
brynnmck when she was in town recently. We ate and talked and ate and talked and three hours passed before we realized it. I think I might be in love.
My girl KJ Draft has been far too good to me lately - a hand-knitted hat and a Dido CD and just general support and sanity. Same goes for my best friend and my boyfriend, both of whom got me lovely Christmas presents and remind me that there are amazing people in this world.
Other than that I've got some other projects going, including home design for the newly-purchased land and extra hours at the volunteer center. Also, I dusted. Don't everyone applaud at once.
More to come very soon - I have another trip coming up! I am world-traveling Piglet, yo.
12.12.03: Dear Gordon
Dear Gordon from Trenton, Ohio:
Who are you? You called one of our backup phone lines earlier this month, and asked for me by name. You said I was awaiting your call. For reasons beyond my control, the message was stored on an old voicemail box that the Denver receptionist and I rarely check. When I finally did, today, it was you that I heard. I called back the number you left (after confirming that it was an Ohio area code, and not, like, Grenada) and you had no idea who I was! You were as confused as I. You sound to be in your sixties, at the very least, and I could hear a television playing in the background as we spoke.
Despite the mystery surrounding our chance encounter, I feel a kinship with you; mostly because you're neither a creditor nor someone I went to law school with. I am consumed by this, Gordon. Although we eventually both agreed that if you couldn't remember who I was, the reason for your call probably wasn't important, I still find myself thinking of you. Wondering. Waiting. Won't you please call me back? With answers?
12.11.03
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I feel as though I should have some valid reason to update, but I don't. So I'll use the gorgeous icon that buffyx made for Prayers to Broken Stone as an excuse. I'm so glad people have enjoyed that fic. It was a good experience for me; I wrote it during a hiatus from fandom and that made me less self-conscious and, I think, improved the story as a whole. The great response I got when I finally decided to post the fic served as a lovely fandom send-off.
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The whole land/house/being an actual grown-up deal is moving forward, despite my intermittent bouts of blind panic. Before I met my boyfriend and even for a while after, I had some rather memorable years of major illness and abject poverty (sometimes simultaneously; sometimes they'd alternate). Back then, I would have been ecstatic to have the concerns I do now. I'm acutely aware of the fact that I'm in a much-improved position. Except it kinda terrifies me, too. I'm not afraid of being poor or sick again, per se; I'm afraid of going back there, feeling that same hopelessness and dumb-wounded-animal confusion at why bad things kept happening. So I steel myself for every possibility; I refuse to be lulled into complacency. The only way this new life makes any sense to me is if I just assume that it's all going to be taken away tomorrow. Problem is (as you've probably already guessed) I'm denying myself a lot of enjoyment in the meantime.
On a totally unrelated note, I bought some crème brûlée-scented body lotion and now I keep wanting to gnaw my own arm off.
12.05.03: This Is For The Crab People.
First of all, congratulations to LoveBytez for all her recent professional acclaim. See her most recent interview here. I really admire Love and all my other friends who are out there, doing it, working toward their dreams. As cheesy as that sounds, it's terribly hard at times, and often risky. But it's the only way. I hate the myth that successful or happy people were somehow born that way; that they're just lucky idiots who got conked on the head with the karma stick. That's not always - or even mostly - the case. There's this decision to be made, every day: Am I going to keep trying? It takes strength.
Anyway, with that in mind I'd like to thank everyone who's encouraged me and made it easier to find joy in the world. My best friend who let me wallow today; my boyfriend who shows me all the different ways you can show love for a person; a bunch of other individuals who just generally nurture my sometimes-flagging optimism. I got some bad news last night, so I ate four Krispy Kreme (two original, one iced devil's food cake, one chocolate glazed custard-filled) and half a pound of onion rings. I also may have ingested Don Roth's spinning-bowl salad dressing directly from the bottle, but I disposed of the evidence so therefore admit nothing. Tomorrow we're going to drive up to the properties, and I think I'll scuff my toe in the dirt of what will one day be my home and try to see past this moment.
12.06.03 - Edited to Add: I forgot I had to go give blood this morning. They were kind enough to take me early because I had plans later. The tech made fun of me. "You still doing okay?" he asked. "'Cause it's not like I could tell if you lost color." (Snicker.) Yeah, whatever! Still, I walked out of there with Pepperidge Farm cookies and those orange crackers with peanut butter inside. I feel I emerged victorious. And on a totally unrelated note: happy birthday to my Bean! I love you, babe.
12.03.03: Fluffernut Lives.
| Hey! After KJ Draft and I returned from Chicago - and the ensuing detailed, giggly, fevered discussion of why we left LiveJournal (complete with a binder of usernames in outline form, in APA format, including footnotes) we discovered we'd both been nominated at the Love's Last Glimpse Awards. Thanks to everybody! |  |
Now on to what's on all of our minds, really: Paris. Nicole. Tinkerbell. "What's generic?" Yes, it's 'The Simple Life' and I am officially in love. I'm morbidly fascinated by Paris' emaciated figure and her blank, dead-eyed stare; her conversation with three-year-old Braxton was priceless, a moment of television history. The mother so clearly hates them; I'm surprised her glares of loathing didn't melt the foundation right from Paris and Nicole's faces. And the shots of a burbling, near-pickled Kathy and Rick sending their daughter off to the (livestock) slaughter! They're all, "We have children? Why, that's smashing!" (Clink of champagne flutes.) I don't know if my boyfriend will be able to keep watching with me; I was prodding him every five seconds saying, "She's so skinny! What's she going to do when they serve the fried chicken? And her hair! What is wrong with her hair? Oh! She's showing crack!"
In all seriousness, I really don't think the girls were as obnoxious as they could have been. Their initial reactions seemed as much nervousness as anything else, although of course if you come into someone's house and repeatedly burst into uncontrollable bouts of laughter, the implication is that you're laughing at them. Still, the girls are making a good show of it. Paris is all, "I can do anything!" And I nodded in agreement, having seen the tape. Sigh. She just wanted her apple juice, man. Have a heart.
12.01.03
I'm once more safely ensconced in Colorado, and am full of of saturated fat and warm memories from my trip back home. I spent quality time with my family, which I can't get enough of - it's like fuel for my heart. Same goes re: my best friend; after seventeen(!) years our relationship is stronger than ever. She, my parents and my boyfriend are responsible for all the best parts of me. Well, them and Choco-Tacos.
In addition to eating my weight in fettucine and fried cheese sticks, I managed to see a bunch of wonderful online folks. While I might have reservations about its current incarnation, I'm very glad I stumbled into the 'Buffy' fandom, and these people are part of the reason why.
Meeting AngelChicken: "The Hills Are Alive With Death!"
angelchicken and I first met in May, at the Chicago 'Buffy' convention. We recognized each others' 'handles' from TWoP, and immediately started talking nonstop. This past Friday was no different (as evidenced by the subject line, which refers to a truly inappropriate story I told her about how coyotes eat puppies in the Hollywood Hills). She was just as pretty and friendly as I remembered, and she gave me a parking permit for her upscale neighborhood despite my inherent white-trashiness. Then we went to a cool, funky diner on the Gold Coast for a big meal of pancakes, bacon and eggs. We ate and gossiped and ate and bonded and ate and emoted for over two hours. I'm so, so glad I've gotten to know her. I have no photos of this encounter, but rest assured that we both looked incredibly hot. I am sure that at one point I was sexily coated in maple syrup - irresistible, my friend.
Meeting KJ Draft: "Can We See A Dessert Menu?"
Later that afternoon, me and the Range Rover (who I thanked all the way home for being such a well-behaved car and keeping me safe throughout my trip) headed north to see KJ Draft. KJ is just an amazingly gifted, generous, encouraging person, and it's only through her that I've gotten so much original writing off the ground recently. She's also gorgeous and tall, but I wasn't even the tiniest bit jealous. That's how much I adore her.
KJ is also one of the only people I know who shares my lifelong love affair with food. So finally getting to sit down with her was satisfying on several different levels. We went to a great restaurant and proceeded to unburden our plates and our souls (I got mine in Africa! Ask me how!). Now that we're again separated by a thousand miles, I feel like there's all this other stuff I should have talked about with her. But we were so comfortable chatting on nothing in particular, and then there was the food...I had a delicious, thick cheeseburger with crinkle-cut fries, and KJ had corn chowder and chips with guacamole. Then for dessert I had an enormous chocolate torte (see below) and she had gelato. But as wonderful as the meal was, the company was better and I miss KJ already.
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| The demonic countenance only a mother could love. |
KJ gamely attempts to hide her embarrassment as DP attacks the cake. |
Charter member of the Clean Plate Club. ELAPSED TIME: 8 seconds. |
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Meeting Miss Murchison: Mice and Mitch, Our Pathologically Attentive Waiter
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