Swimming Pool

I dreamt I swam in my new pool. I swam poorly but in reality I am a fish. I dove and kept cruising right to the bottom. Couldn't find my swimsuit then *BLING*, a Magic Dream Swimsuit appeared. A one piece.

After the winds die down I hope it's warm enough at least to enjoy some laps in it. It's so small, I hope I can make a lap in it. Its safety insurance bars are annoying and funny looking. But I want to swim in it still.



I dreamt that a bag lady started yelling at me, trying to freak me out. I wasn't having it. She didn't know I wasn't the one to pull that shit on. She got it.

So that was weird and so was diving to the pool in my Magic Dream Swimsuit. Do you ever think about what Hilary Clinton dreamt of after Sarah Palin got on the McCain ticket? I mean the symbolism driven by so much depression, anger, pride and fear must've been so juicy.

Loosing My Mind.

Just am.

Let's See How This Goes...

On Friday I'll be burying a friend. Carol Rozio. Carol von Spreken. Carol was my first best friend and we spent every day together during our childhood. We met in Kindergarten. I would follow whatever she did, well in my mind or not. Especially for the time and place of our friendship, Carol was a dear friend. I hadn't seen her in years but I knew a year and a half ago that she had cancer and that it was serious.

The past couple weeks I learned just how serious it was. She was absolutely attacked by cancer. I had no idea of the level the shit was eating at her. I cried for her pain, her husband and her two year old. Her husband was with Carol to the very last moment of her life. She was 36. Thank God he could ease some of her pain. Someday I hope the profundity of his love from his presence there will give him solace in his grieving. I hope it can give him joy that he was able to experience such a love.

I woke up Monday morning with a very fresh dream of Carol in my mind. It felt like we were really together. She didn't want me to see her in her deterioration but I let her know it was OK and she became beautiful. Then we just sort of hung out. Did some stuff. You know... it was nice. I woke up thinking, "Did it happen?" I thought she was OK. I learned a couple hours later that she did die that morning. I was tremendously grateful for my dream with her.

Friday is the memorial. It's worked out perfectly that I can go with who I want to and when I want to. There's nothing like being there for Carol.

Here we are on a trip to Balboa Island when we were probably 11 or 12. She's the dorky blonde on the end. She turned out anything but dorky.

Mochi Ice Icream.

Love it so much. It's perfect.

You get bread and ice cream. Better though, as we all know, it's ice cream that's not too creamy and bread that doesn't need butter. It's the most ideal container for cold flavor.



I love it. It's been decided. It's my favorite food.

Feeling Groovy.

K.

Slept. Ate. Slept. Slept. Talked to some friends. Laughed. Not so bad. Not at all. I let myself get way out of hand. I want to congratulate Chris on making it through his first pledge drive. And afterwards to celebrate both of us finishing tremendous work projects, Chris took me to Pace.



Pace is a restaurant in Laurel Canyon. This is a part of town I would love to live in with former residents Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne, Carole King, etc. landing there first. I often think of Laurel Canyon as the Echo Park and Silverlake of today and imagine my friends all playing and hanging out there then like they do now. I also wonder, did it cost a fortune to live there then like it does there now? Was it the Echo Park of L.A.? Cheap and unappealing but after their coolness tagged the property, did rates rise? I don't know. But for a long while I fantasized about what Pace was like on the inside. What could this woodsy, L.A. bohemian nook be like? It's pronounced, "PAH-chey," and translates to Peace. Ironically, or with naivete, I didn't realize that it was an L.A. hotspot, a place to be, a place to be seen and in the know. Or at least that's what the internet paparazzi shots are showing.

We looked very pretty. It scared me. But that's just my neurosis. Yep. But I like it. Looking pretty. Especially with Chris. And in summary, we're dining out more. It's good for us. Or not! Not important. We just like going out.

Soundtrack A+! Food... OK. B? Not so sure. The chocolate sauce was good. Next trip is the italian place in the mini-mall off Melrose. Lou's. Yum.

NorthSouthEastWest

Worse.

Grand Innocence

What will I do when I don't have this job anymore? My blood feels sick. Poisoned. I've got that thing with trouble breathing, can't sleep enough so I'm over tired and can't figure out how to stop it all so I can sleep. It seems once this pledge drive is over, another will be right there and someone will be there to complain that they don't like or agree with a decision of mine and they are all million dollar decisions because we're putting on these two million dollar drives.

I've been riding my bike more to compensate for the lack of motion I've been exercising these past couple months.

I really need to expand my personal world view from grandiosity to innocence.

Feeling Groovy.

Today I looked at my stacks and piles of books. I read some Robert Bly. I moved Harry Potter over so I could see what the big one under it was. I couldn't remember.

"Oh yeah." It's Emerson. I wanted to read Emerson after our last hike. The hike where I thought I might have asthma.

I was just anaerobically exercising. I want a buff heart.

I might be suffering from anxiety. Not so sure. I haven't been breathing much I guess, and I've been focusing on minutiae quite a bit lately. But that's because it makes me feel good and I can't remember what I was doing anyway. "It's the little things in life." But my mind! Sharp as a tick! Tack?

Who cares about another 40 CDs?

When I saw Emerson I felt good.

My stacks and piles of books, made me feel good.

Here, There and Everywhere

It has been way too long.

I've had to take work home (including over the birthday San Francisco trip) and any free time has been taken up with creating an orientation slideshow. I'll be sure to share that with you all later.

San Francisco with Chris can be summed up with Coit Tower and 7PM Dim Sum as seen here:


There were also the dozen, long-stemmed red roses delivered to the house we were staying at on the Saturday which was my birthday from my rad boyfriend Bubbie.

There was also the Berkeley Morris Dancers that showed up at Sutro's Bath House around birthday day (Summer Solstice - brings the weirdos out). It was the unseasonably hottest day on record since 1973 in San Francisco. It was indeed this troupe:


We saw Seun Kuti and Egypt 80 in Stern Grove, amongst a forrest of Redwoods and hippie nymphs.

Devendra Barnhart wished me a happy birthday at the Hollywood Bowl. That went like this, "Happy Birthday Laura..."
I think, "That actually sounded pretty." "Ha! OK guys. Thanks!" We all laughed. Chris, Maura, Tracy and I in our box at the Bowl. Tickets I got from work. I did play the birthday card but... Devendra doesn't know that (or me). But we all laughed, "Of course it's me. There's no other Laura." I imagined Laura was some slightly trust-fundy psuedo-Hippie chick sitting backstage, getting ready for some fun.

I get a text, "THAT WAS SO COOL! WHERE ARE YOUR SEATS GIRL?!"
Who the hell is this? I don't know who this text is, "Maura - Do you recognize this phone number?" She must get a kick out of me sometimes.
"Center box, back. Who is this? Where are you?"
Long awesome story short - IT WAS ME! I'M LAURA!
Ariana arranged it for me and the texter was my boss. They were up in the Garden Boxes. I fuhreeeeked out as damage to Chris' squeezed fingers would prove. My dreaming began. I decided that the Hippie Chick Laura was more of a Bohemian now. At the end of Devendra's performance he wished me well again, this time in both English and Spanish and I jumped, "I'M LAURA!" Felt pretty bomb kids.

Maura also talked about some of the work she's begun with her position as Music Director at KSCR, including having The Wedding Present come in. Not surprised by this but so happy she's doing it. Read up, pay attention, follow along and know that you knew her when.

I played softball. I'm as surprised as you. I'm sorry but there are no pictures to prove this. However, I was sore for the running as I am a powerhitter (I'm as surprised as you) and I got a run + second base. And now I've begun running with Chris. We want to improve for softball and I'll need to begin training for the Amazing Race.

4th of July: We rode our bikes at breakneck speed to catch the fireworks last night and followed it up with a midnight viewing of Wall-E.

I think we're caught up.

Southwest Like a Cow...

But we're happy we'll be together. The youth is not wasted on the young.

A little stalling, a little writing. I'm folding warm and cold clothes again to trip up to San Francisco for five days. This time I'll bring Chris with me. Last time I was there, he was promising an eMail and photos of his machine and now I can show him the bed I was sleeping in when his eMail arrived. I am that cheesy and I am that excited. These same hosts are letting us crash at their place while they travel to the Terrastock Festival I was writing about then too.

If I had any idea then what I know now today I wouldn't want to know it because the discovery has been so rad.

I'll also be turning 37 on the first day of Summer this Saturday.



We'll be seeing Seun Kuti (that is "Kuti" as one of Fela's 30,000. I joke, but you know...) and I'll be able to meet a label friend I've made from my new responsibilities at KCRW.

We're going to sleep a lot and work a little. Unfortunately, we just have to do that. But I'm also going to show him my treasured Philz Coffee. Oh God. Philz.

And I'm only bringing the one Harry Potter.

Swervedriver Sans Tonic

Right now I am demanding this moment to sit. Who's my oppressor? Who won't let me go?

Hi! Me. Man am I tired. I might just be really hungry... I don't really know. But dinner's gonna be good and cheesy tonight.

And you?

I went to Swervedriver this weekend. I argued with Chris, "NoNoNooNooNoNo. The recordings you're hearing just aren't demonstrating how saturating their guitars can be. How overwhelming and thick they lay their six strings down. Blankets of distortion warm you with chimey fragrance. Oh yes. You just don't know. Let's go to this semi-pricey event and I'll show you when you see them play for yourself. RaaavVEEeee Down. Hit the ground. Rock on!"

How do you handle the realization when a band you really loved doesn't sound like that band anymore?

"They don't have The 'Ness." Huh? OhMyGod. I panicked. I "dated" a guy who was in The Ness. What are you talking about? Chris continues, "Laura, so much of what you play me is so awesome and I really like the stuff. Swervedriver just sounds like an L.A. rock band. Oh yeah, you're really hot and I think you're very smart." OK. So maybe I embellished his comments and added that last bit, but what was said about Swervedriver was said and I argued with Chris regarding his assumptive stated Swervedriver facts. "Whatever Chris. WhaTTTEVVVer. You like '80s Rush." I probably did say that but I think his taste in '80s Rush is cute. Oh yeah. I like Moving Pictures too myself.

Swervedriver has become an L.A. Rock Band.

OHMYGOD! FUCK! NO. No. Impossible. Impossible that my taste in the early '90s was so unsophisticated. Isn't it? Come on. This is bad. They are... they are... they are boring me.

But it wasn't a good scene. I knew something was wrong as soon as we arrived.

We entered the hall. Henry Fonda Theatre. Looked like they blocked off the balcony - didn't want the crowd to appear too thin when people chose to wander upstairs so they could SIT through the rock show. And the crowd? Oh wow. I knew we wouldn't be enjoying cocktails at MENSA but this was like a Filter Magazine showcase at Spaceland. Sorry. That's somewhat of an L.A. joke.

I'll try this. "Oh shit! It's an early '90s underground L.A. rock band reunion show! What have I done?!"

Chris and I wandered upstairs outside. The mix was better and we could discuss what was happening. I needed help then. I felt so cold.

"But they were on Creation."
"I know Laura."
We stared out to Sunset Boulevard, holding each other, dreaming of a city with proper public transportation and sustainable vegetation support. Later we drove into the hills.

Hey Bo Diddley

It's when those bigger-than-life spirits stop and go away that life becomes confusing and at the same time so amazing.
With the little ball and bag of bones that he was given, he made himself to be Bo Diddley.