V and me at a restaurant named "Azul."
This is the hotel in Palm Springs. An amazing place.
It was 75° in Palm Springs, but there was snow in the mountains.
The hats were courtesy of the hotel.
I told Matt he looks like Juan Valdez in this picture.
See? I really was there.
V and I before heading to the Grammys. Yes, I am that short. (especially when I'm not wearing shoes!)
Well, you can't have LA pictures without at least ONE with palm trees. These happen to be in Matt's back yard. (yes I know. "Who is Matt?" V's friend that we are staying with.)
V tries on the suit. The sneakers did not go to the ceremony.
Me, in the dress, seconds after Jamie Leigh, my makeup artist, left. Dress picked out by Daniel B "Bennett", bag picked out by the fabulous Cesar, and the shoes picked out by me, which is only fitting since I have quite the shoe addiction.
Day 1--well, okay, night one. That crazy neon, which, unfortunately, you can't read, is a liquor store in Echo Park, the neighborhood where we are staying.
Day 2 --V's idea of a funny joke: dragging me to Griffith Park and forcing me to commune with nature.
When I was 14, a friend of mine invited me over to her house to hear a lecture about Transcendental Meditation. Afterwards, she, her mother, and I signed up. It cost her mother $100; it was $40 each for my friend and I. I stuck with it until I got to college, intermittently going back to it when it was convenient, or when I was bored or had too much caffeine.
I always think about TM when I hear Across the Universe. I think two things: That Lennon definitely captured the experience. And...that at our meetings, we always said "Jai (like "jay") Guru Dev." Lennon sings "Ji (like "pie") Guru Deva." And then I don't think about it much until I hear the song again.
Anyway. I happened to glance over a Metro paper this morning and saw a blurb, buried toward the bottom of the page, that the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi had died. They think he was 91. It might not have made it into the paper if they didn't have a hole to fill, and I might not have seen it if I didn't happen to glance at that part of that page. And I thought,"Well, look at that. He outlived two of his four most famous diciples."
...my nervous friends. I did not call my Ex-ex-ex on his aforementioned birthday. That was just temporary insanity. Actually, I have been spending my time and energy dress hunting. which leaves no room for silly thoughts about the Exxx. Okay, I did think about him for about a minute, long enough to think,"No, I don't feel like calling him." And that was that.
As for the dress, I want to move into Betsey Johnson's store on Wooster Street. I could pretend to be a piece of furniture or something. I want everything in the store. I settled on a silver dress with a black sequin "shrug." (Somehow I have lived over four decades without ever having heard that word used for an article of clothing.)
So Friday I leave to go on my first vacation in six years. I kind of hate cameras--no, I totally hate cameras--but I thought it would be cool to post pictures of the event in progress, using pictures from my friend's iPhone. Not sure either one of us are that technologically advanced, but we'll see.
I went to dinner the other night with some friends, namely, the first friend I ever made in New York, another friend who was in from out of town (who happens to be the second friend I ever made in New York), his sister and her wife. Afterwards we all stood on 23rd Street and, with the Chelsea Hotel's neon sign hovering over us in the background, we posed for a picture . I would post this picture, except I do not know how to yet. It was a real camera, by the way (or should I say "BTW"?), not a camera phone. As we were saying our goodbyes, I heard a familiar voice call my name.
I turned around, and there was my ex-ex-ex, guitar, or possibly guitars, on his back, heading to the A train. He sounded genuinely happy to see me. The last time I ran into him was last June,
when I spotted him coming into the subway as I was exiting. He spent ten minutes politely giving me the run-down of the current state of his life, not making eye contact with me. It was the first time I'd seen him since we both decided we were through with each other. (Actually, I don't think he realizes I was as much done with him as he was with me, but I can live with that.) Anyway, the other night's sighting was much shorter than June's, but much friendlier.
His birthday is in a couple of days, and although it would make many of my friends shudder and then tell me what a stupid idea it would be, I might call him to say "Happy B-Day."
I don't know why I would do that. No, my alarmed friends, I have no intention of trying to make him my ex-ex-ex-ex. Just one of those things I guess, ensuring good karma or striving for a normalcy we never had, or sticking it to him that I still kind of look okay, if you look at me in the right light and squint a little.
(Truthfully, my ex-ex-ex and I will never be normal.)
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