A Thursday in The Valley

An all girls luncheon. The first one in nearly ten years.

We pretended to have a beach day in the jacuzzi

that I grew up pretending to be a mermaid in.

A hawk at rest. That morning, while practicing yoga in the yard,

I watched as he flew lazy circles in the sky.

Me, my childhood hero, his legacy.

In the bedroom I grew up in, we had a slumber party

that made me feel like I was sixteen again. In a good way.

8/6/09

That Time I Partied Backwards.

These kids are my BFF's. For cereals., originally uploaded by Pretty Poo Eater.

Shame on me for never telling you all about my trip home to Los Angeles this past May. I'm a naughty blogger.

It was a really wonderful trip home, though really too short. Poompy and I got to spend time with my friend Mich and her husband and their 8 week old baby. (He won't admit it, but Poompy totally got all weepy-eyed when he held the infant in his arms.) We spent lots of time in our jammies visiting with my mama. We broke bread with friends and family multiple times. We stopped by our beautiful Hollywood bungalow and visited with our old neighbors. We took a road trip to Huntington Beach with Dopey to spend more time with family. We spent an afternoon on the Santa Monica Pier with more family. I went horse-back riding with my neice and nephew while Poompy ate at our favorite sushi place with his big brother. (After which Poompy gloated for hours about how awesome the sushi was and how NY sushi "sucks major balls" in comparison.) But I think the very best story of all comes from our second night in town, when my best fried Dopey threw us The Most Awesome Welcome To LA Party EVER.

Dopey had planned this rad party for us and she'd sent out invitations to all our friends and I was super excited about it. So excited about it that the first thing I did when I arrived at Dopey's house to help her prepare for the party was pass out on the pavement next to her pool. Why? Who knows. My brother suggested that perhaps I shouldn't have started drinking so early in the day, but what does he know? Anyway, the next thing I did was spend a couple of hours stretched across Dopey's bed, holding my stomach and groaning. About forty minutes before guests were supposed to start arriving, Poompy managed to convince me that it would be a good idea to stick my finger down my throat. I won't go into the gory details except to tell you all about how you can tell someone really loves you when they sit on the floor in the bathroom holding your hair and rubbing your back while you wretch and sob and say things like: "blaaaaagh*wretch*gag* I'm dying! *sob*bleeegh*gag* I think I'm dying please *wretch* make it stop! *gag*blegh* I don't want to die! *wretch*sob*gag*" Throwing up is gross. And it sucks. And it is NOT dignified. Certainly not when I do it.

I barely had time to brush my teeth before the guests started arriving and by then, well I just felt so much better that I drank two gin martini's and spent the rest of the night dancing on Dopey's coffee table before getting completely sober and driving home while working on next years taxes. I know how to have a good time, you know?

CONGRATULATIONS DOPEY!!!!!!

YOU GUYS! My best fried Dopey just booked a national commercial! And got her SAG card! I am jumping up and down for her and in a perfect world, I would have sent her a giant bouquet of flowers today. But there's this thing that happens when you're broke. It involves the bank calling you because you have no money, which is just lame because honestly, it's not like they need to rub it in. Anyway, it means I can't do nice things like buy flowers. So this will have to do. If your name is Dopey and you are reading this, I just want you to imagine for a minute that a gorgeous muscular guy has just knocked on your door to hand you these...



And the card attached reads as follows:

Dopey,

You're my favorite Orbitz Girl EVER. Go you. Rock Hollywood, get famous, and let me use you for your connections.

xo,
Frosty

I heart you, Dopes!

New York - the 411 (Frosty Version)

My mamacita is totally dying to get all the deets on my recent "vacation", and just in case you are too, I am providing them here.

But first, let me explain that the reason I put "quotation marks" around the word "vacation" is because while I certainly "felt" like I was on a "vacation", I never actually "left" my "tenement". I mean, I totally left the tenement "every" day, but then at "night" I "slept" there. As "opposed" to sleeping in a "hotel". Which is "why" it was a "vacation" instead of a vacation. And now I'm "just" using "quoatation marks" at "random" to be annoy"ing".

Now here are the details.

But first, (I know, you can't stand the anticipation) let me tell you why I had a "vacation". Because it was my birthday! And my Best Fried Dopey came to visit from LA as my present which also makes her my Best Fried Present. AND she wrote all about her trip here. So... read it. Now. And then come back and finish reading this.

K. Details. Below. Now. For Reals. Right after now. Now. Now.

THURSDAY, MY BIRTHDAY: I woke up and ate breakfast. Then I went to yoga with Poompy. Then I took a shower. Then -

Whoa. Sorry. That's really boring. You don't really want to know all that crap. K. I'll start with when Dopey showed up on my stoop and I was all excited and stuff and she gave me a big ol' hug and I was like, WHOA! Why is she touching me? And then I remembered that people in Los Angeles don't think it's weird to hug, so then I was all like, WHOA! Awesome! And I hugged her back. Then I gave her a tour of the tenement and then we exchanged birthday presents. First, Dopey gave me a gift from my BFF Shmadam, which was freaking awesome (I love you Schmadam) and then, even though she TOTALLY didn't have to get me a present because she WAS my present (seriously, flying 3,000 miles to spend my birthday with me is the best present EVER, no offense Shmadam, I know you know what I mean) she gave me a copy of The Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham. I'm really excited to read it because I know it is a book that has a lot of meaning for her and I think it will carry a lot of meaning for me, too. But I'm in the middle of reading Poompy's book right now, so it will have to wait a bit as it is impossible for me to read more than one book at a time. I'm just not one of those people.

Anyway, so then we headed off into Times Square (read: The Dunkin Donuts in Times Square) for some sight-seeing (read: coffee drinking). We eventually ended up on the same block that Poompy works on, so I brought her by the restaurant just to say hi, but the owner found out it was my birthday and so he forced us to sit down, and then he forced us to enjoy some delicious shrimp cocktail (I got Dopey to eat shrimp cocktail for like, the first time EVER. And she LOVED it. Contrary to her belief, it does NOT taste like bugs) and then he forced us to have several cocktails. ALL on the house. What a mean, mean man. (Read: Awesome, awesome man.) So now, we're all like, tipsy and stuff and Poompy was done with work, so the three of us hopped onto the subway and headed uptown to have dinner with friends at my favorite antipasto bar. (By the way, Sibley. Just so you know, Dopey was totally slick in both the purchasing of and the swiping of her metro card. She was faster than Poompy!) We had a lovely dinner that included a birthday song and some molten cake, and then we crashed at Jen's apartment to watch the newest Grey's Anatomy. Which was kind of lame. But that's OK, because the evening was freaking awesome. And then we went home. And cleaned up dog pee. Well, Poompy and I cleaned up dog pee and Dopey brushed her teeth for about forty minutes.

FRIDAY: We set out early (is 2 p.m. early?) for some shopping and sight-seeing. We walked past Radio City Music Hall, we admired the Chrysler Building (from afar), we wandered in Rockefellar Center and laughed at the ice skaters that fell on their asses, and then I took her to Starbucks (because I'm pretty sure they don't have those in LA) and then we did some hardcore 5th Ave shopping. 5th Ave had no idea what to expect. You see, Dopey and I are Master Shoppers. We have developed some pretty amazing skillz when it comes to shopping together. Seriously. We're Ninja Shoppers. Unicorn Shoppers. Magical Fairy Shoppers. I mean, even alone we're pretty good, but when we're together.... man oh man. The shop clerks didn't even know what hit them.

After several hours of exercising our Shopping Muscles we were STARVED so we went for dinner at Patsy's and then we walked over to Serendipity 3 for their famous frozen hot chocolate. And HOLY CRAP that stuff was good. Except for the 435 lb woman who stared at my frozen hot chocolate the ENTIRE time I was sipping it, the whole experience was lovely. We spent the rest of the evening shop-shop-shoppping, even though we could barely waddle what with our full bellies and all. By the time we got home, we literally passed out from Shopping Exhaustion. OH! I almost forgot. I also took Dopey to see the Statue of Liberty that day!

K, between you, me, and the lamppost, I know that that is not the "real" Statue of Liberty. Dopey was confused at first, because she expected it to be bigger and someone had told her it was on an island, but then I told her that people were much smaller in the olden days, and that made the statue "seem" bigger. And that the island it's on is really the island of Manhattan. (Even though we all know it's really on Brooklyn. Geez.)  She totally bought it. So don't say anything to her, k? I just didn't feel like a trip to Brooklyn while she was here and I thought taking her to one of the plaster rip-offs in Times Square would be WAY easier. Besides. I don't know. I've never really been to Brooklyn.

SATURDAY: We hit the 10:30 a.m. yoga class at my yoga studio and then we spent a good two hours or so primping. Well... I did. I'm not sure what Dopey was doing. OH! She was chatting with me. Duh. That's why I took so long! She was distracting me. Ha. When I finally looked pretty, we headed uptown. We did a little shopping along the way - Dopey bought a kick ass mood ring that provided hours of entertainment (though I hear it has since given her finger a most attractive green hue.) I walked her past the Dakota, through Central Park, we stopped at W******* to say hi to the girls and so I could show Dopey where I work, and then we stopped at Dunkin Donuts, shared a grilled cheese "sandandwich" from a bodega and stopped to ogle the apartment building which was used as the facade for Holly Golightly's apartment building in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Then, since we were right there, we walked through the first neighborhood I lived in when I first moved to NY. It was strange to be there - it's been nearly a year now! Anyhow, we couldn't wander for too long because we needed to primp for my birthday party. And you KNOW how long it takes me to primp. So we got home, and primped and primped and I tried on eight different outfits, some of which belonged to Dopey, and when we were finally ready, we took a cab downtown for my party which gave us a nice little driving tour of Chelsea and the Village - I was able to point out Hotel Chelsea, you know, where Sid stabbed Nancy. My birthday party was freaking awesome. Lots of good friends showed up, and those who couldn't were missed. But all the same, it was a fantastic night. Except for the part where a drag queen projectile vomited all over the stage and then masturbated a rubber penis. Except for that part, it was really a fantastic night.

SUNDAY: We woke up bright and early and went to yoga. HA! Yeah right! We slept until after noon more like it! (My birthday party had kept us out past 4 a.m. the night before. That morning? Whatever.) We'd both really wanted to go to Glennis's Dance Dance Party Party, but it started at 2 and Dopey didn't think bouncing around with a severe hangover would be good for ANYONE. So instead, we took the mutts to the dog park for a bit. Dopey got peed on and the Chiremlin tried to start a fight. But that isn't unusual. After that we were in dire need of greasy food and coca-cola, so we got some and curled up in my living room to watch 'Into the Wild'. We eventually got our butts in gear to get to Jen's for game night....but that just turned into a bunch of girl talk (sorry Sibley) and no actual game playing was had.

MONDAY: We went down to Union Square, the lower east side and then to SoHo this day. Did some more shopping, ate some more good food (Red Bamboo, introduced to me by JT), and had some more Dunkin D. We had to head back early to meet Sibley for a top secret mission by 7. Unfortuantely it fell through, but we managed to have a good time sitting in a coffe shop and having some seriously NSFW conversations TOTALLY worthy of overheardinnewyork. Did someone say DVDA?!?!? Then, to culminate the vacation, Dopes and I rented a few chick flicks, made some crispy treats and had a pillow fight in our panties.

You sicko. We SO did not do that. I've never had a pillow fight with anyone other than my brothers in my ENTIRE life. And all participants were fully clothed. Dopes and I DID rent chick flicks and we DID make crispy treats but the rest of the evening was spent curling our hair, cuddling stuffed animals and talking about boys.

TUESDAY: Sibley, Dopey and I reconvened for our top secret mission. Well, we had breakfast first and introduced Sibley to the "LA" idea of on-time...you know...45 minutes late. (Totally Dopey's fault.) After the mission was accomplished we had some more coffee talk and then it was time for Dopey to leave. And once she was gone, I sat down on my bitchen floor and sobbed. Because, for a moment, I could not remember WHY I am so far away from the ones I love.

Los Angeles Tourists:

Stay the hell off the freeways during commuter times! I think that it is great that you are here, really I do. Everyone should see L.A. at some point. Hollywood Boulevard, Sunset Strip, Disneyland...well...that is Anaheim, but oh well. It is all great, I know. And I understand that you want to "get a head start" and "take advantage of the day". But if you don't know where you are going, Please, for the love of all good things, don't get on that freeway until at least 10:00 AM. We Los Angeleans KNOW where we are going. We know what lane to be in at all times. We know exactly where our exits are. We know what the traffic should be doing at every minute of the day. You, you tourist, DON'T. I understand that in every other part of this country (except Texas) 65 mph might be considered a bit faster than the norm. DEAL WITH IT. If you cut me off again going a cool 50, I will hunt you down and slash the tires of your compact rental car. If you signal left and jolt into the right lane in front of me again, I will stop you fast and rip you out of that driver's seat. This one I don't understand at all; rental car or not, isn't the turn indicator a standard down=left, up=right? MORON.

OH! And one for the spammers who insist on replying to posts: stop peddling your shit on my blog. I don't need to meet some 90 year old psycho who claims he is 26, asks me for coffee, then they find pieces of me scattered througout the Hollywood Hills. Also, it is pretty damn obvious that I don't know you when you offer me, a very small 85 pound person, weight-loss advice. I've got enough of that to share. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

I am sorry, I don't know what has come over me. My brain is fried from this heat. I will be happier tomorrow. I promise. Don't go away! I really can be a very positive, happy person. You'll see.

Happy Birthday, Dopey!!!!

And a Very Merry Christmas to all of you.

p.s. that little peice of coal in my chest got all Christmasied last night, thanks to my NYC friends and family. But to those of you elsewhere, I miss you SO!

Dopey, This One's For You