Go Giants!

Sent from my sexy brilliant blackberry.

First Point - First Beach Days of Summer

First hot summer weekend here at the beaches and BFF and I took Malibu First Point by storm. Let me have the record show that I would probably not be at this beach if it wasn't for BFF and her rad ability to get out there and drop in on the best little waves that were rolling in there this weekend. There were ultimately so many things to be bitter about:
1. The relentless helicopters flying over head.
2. Tourist leaving food on their towels as they wandered down to the water only to have a bird strike down upon their items making all the people in a 100 yard radius pissed and nervous.
3. Parking.
4. People playing music on the loudest possible setting from their iphone speakers- sitting right in front of us. Thank god they were smokers because they would shut off the music each time they had a smoke (approximately every 35 minutes).
5. A Berkley Water Study with bugger clipboard people walking around acosting each tourist they could trading a FREE PLASTIC BEACH BALL for answering a questionairre. (This BTW, deserves an entire B/H entry because if you are concerned about the quality of the ocean water at a highly trafficked beach- why in the hell would you give away a chinese made PLASTIC beach ball at the beach, which will just end up in the ocean or in a landfill or someplace where you know it can't be good for the environment (there is no recycle symbol on beach balls).
6. The beached seal that did not want to be in the ocean
7.Traffic on the way home, with everyone else.
8. A sprained ankle that is killing me today.

But there were also wonderful things to be very happy about:
1. The sun was shining with a slight breeze all weekend without a cloud in the sky in Malibu.
2. BFF got two fun surfing sessions out on the water and met a few people in the process!
3. Updates that the fishing trip that Kris, Denny and RCK were on in Kona really was a nap/drinking/eating fest.
4. Drinking Modelo out of the mini soft cooler
5. Reading "Still Alice" under an umbrella looking up to watch all the people frolic near the sea
6. Breathing in the salty air

Living the Dream In Kona

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I'm Old. Change Is Not My Friend

Being 40 is hard,  not for all the reasons you think, not because I am getting older or not yet achieved all the things "society" lists I should have or be by now--a mom, a wife, own a home etc. I let go of coloring inside those line a way long time ago and pretty much have had peace with that bag of tricks.

Rather at 40, change is just fucking hard. 

I have spent the past four years pretty much LTD solo, trudging along in my singleness with BFF as my co pilot, bitter and happy all along the way.... no major rules or commitment , pay as you go just like a cellphone plan, kind of thing....traveling whenever we decided it was perfect time to go here or there, mani pedi at a drop of a bad looking nail, escapism to my cave and her Santa Monica comfy couch all solo when I want to shut everyone out (which is pretty much 76% of the time) and reaching out to the tribe as the need for love, social-ness or entertainment as we saw fit. Sure , we yearned for love and babies and coupleness and romance but that isn't the point. We figured that would come along in it's own special way just not right away!

I realize I have had no real responsibility to anyone except maybe princess who is not a human being. My only relationship responsibility in the  being a part of "two" has been to BFF who I  realize lately  pretty much mirrors my same ebb and flow of buggerness in that very Thelma and Louise way. 

When BFF  gets all needing her space,or grumpy or "busy"  I know it's not worth trying to get her on my page, so I just take the cue and go do my own thing, AWAY from her and i realize when i get there I needed it too,  the same goes for her with me...it's taken a few years to get here but we got our lesbian wife rhythym going  and it just works. I wonder if anyone recorded the journey here, because I could use a copy this week.

I realize now I am one of two in an actual other kind of relationship--one which is requiring me to figure out all the ebbs and flows in a whole other way and right now I wonder if I am just too old to figure it all out? I am who I am , my needs are what they are, they aren't going to change and to think they will , well that seems unrealistic and well, murky. So I wonder how that works ? This is my new part time gig. I'm gonna crack this nut one way or another. 

Don't get me wrong, I love having love in my life, it's nice and comfy and sweet and interesting and also sexy and saucy and warm and lucky.  Kris with a K is a dreamboat and I know that. I have gratitude everyday even though i feel like an ungrateful (insert bad word here). 

It's just being a new of two is well, new. And everyone who knows me knows new and I don't get along very well at first ...I take time to adjust and let go of my solo-ness and I have to figure out how to do that --and I dont want to have to do it on anyone elses schedule, that only forces me to run in another direction. So i wonder how I walk through it? Slowly, in good time and gently with my person and yep just more therapy to kick my ass in the right direction and call me on my shit. Great.

I guess the one thing that is key for me in a "two" is that the other person really has to be strong , secure,  busy and really independent and right now that feels like finding a needle in a haystack. Two is hard, three is gonna be even harder but I have had to undertake bigger life changes than numbers and if anyone is going to figure it out, it's me.

Kids Say The Darndest Things: “Your Butt Looks Sexy” Creepy? Or A Helpful Reminder I Still Got It?

I hit the big "four O" last year and let's face it you start to question a few things when you get to that no longer in my thirties place in life. Examples of questions that run through your mind include "Will I ever have kids?" and "I love my career, but is it really that awesome and important?" And go ahead and toss in, "Whoa what happened to my supermodel legs and really remarkable rear-end?!

It's the cost of crossing the no longer thirty-nine line, right aunties? Hey, for the most part, I have fully embraced my forties, I am so much wiser, I am independent , successful, I live on my own terms, have a tribe of the most amazing friends, boyfriend and a great family, so I can let go of my former in my own mind supermodel-ness. I am not one of those women who whines and cries about her body, but I will say I have slid slightly into acceptance that things just change a teensy bit at the frontlines of forty.

Last week, I was pulling up my sundress over my bikini pre beach outing, my four year old nephew Jack said very casually and to the point, "I like your butt (pause) it's sexy." Seriously?

I didn't know if I should be horrified that he even knew what the word sexy was or that he said it out loud or that he said it with such honesty and conviction.

Then I told myself to just settle down, maybe Jack was onto something here, maybe my five minutes on the treadmill at the gym last week was paying off and things were looking up, or at least my butt was. This is great, I feel great. So, for about fifty-two seconds I looked in the mirror and agreed with smart, wise and very observant Jack, my butt is sexy. Good job Jack. And then, ten seconds later, I snapped out of my Sports Illustrated moment and looked at Jack in my most serious Auntie face and asked him the myriad of adult questions like where he learned that word, does he understand what it means, did he hear that at school and that is not really a word for children to use and why. He finally fled the room realizing the cross examination was no longer fun.

I snuck in one last peek into the mirror and realized actually, maybe Jack needs glasses, and I should remind his mom to look into that.

Home Project

I watched this hour long documentary yesterday. Very informative and beautifully done. It ends on a happy note, though 55 minutes of it, you are thinking: we are soooo efffed.

http://www.youtube.com/user/homeproject

Morning coffee

Brewing delicious freshly ground french roast in a bodum french press. Smells lovely. Smells like the start to a great friday.

Open fridge. There is no half and half (in my case Mocha Mix). Nothing else can quite turn a day from bliss to tragedy so quickly when this happens.

Summertime Disneyland

Just don't do it.

boom, bang, crash, swish!

I planned on sleeping in on Saturday morning. Anytime you really "plan" on sleeping in, almost always, you end up waking up early for some odd reason. This particular day, I did wake up early to a BOOM, BANG, CRASH, SWISH noise somewhere close to my apartment. I looked at the clock: 9:43. Did someone drop a dolly with boxes on it right outside my apartment door? It's probably someones move in day- precisely the day I wanted to sleep in. CRASH, SWOOSH!! What? Could that be inside of my apartment? I got up, walked toward the noise coming from the kitchen, I thought, great, my neighbor is drilling through the wall or something. As I rounded the corner, eyes scanning wildly, something, as I quickly identified as a squirrel ran just inches in front of me, and launched himself onto the bike handle bars in the corner of my apartment. hmm.

"Well, Hello there little guy." I am thinking it is going to attack because he is now cornered. Next thought, lets let him out. I went to the front door, opened it and propped the screen door open. I looked back over at him. He looked nervous, fidgety. I said, "okay little guy, go on outside..." He lept from the handlebars to the bike seat, onto the filing cabinet, up onto the top edge of the monitor, over a stack of magazines where he slid to the ground and bounced out the front door and jumped onto the banister of the balcony. He turned around and looked at me as he perched. I turned quickly to assess the kitchen. There were no windows open, no cabinets... the stove top looked a little destroyed, pan on its side, stove top burner trays all askew and dusty dirty chimney looking dirt everywhere. I looked up... ah ha. The culprit. There is a stove vent that leads to the roof. He must have fell the 10 feet down onto the stove and survived. (Thank god I was home and was able to let him out. What if it was a week ago? I was in Montana for the entire week. hmmmm.) Suddenly, I hear him barking outside. I go to the door and there he is barking in a smug way directly looking into my apartment. He acted as if he had cheated death by diving into the lion's den and made it out to see another day and now was standing his ground that he was safely outside. I told him, "what? you're the one who came into my apartment! go away." I shut the door. He jumped down from the banister and went on his merry way with a hop in his step down the stairs to meet up with his buddies to gloat about his great survival. I call him my santa claus squirrel and my niece sophie loves to hear the story!

Sometimes we launch ourselves into the lion's den and come out unscathed- thinking we are taking risks. It feels like it. We feel shocked, scared, nervous, unfamilar. But, was it really a lion's den afterall?

Hot Dads

Sunny breezy summer day by the beach and also pool at the beach house ...so funny usually place swarmed with mommy mayhem which me and bff generally just gossip about how irritating the moms are...today is dad heaven. Sporty dad, bffss  bearded dad , surf dad, itellectual dad, dad with less hair but hot bod or cool bag dad.

Warm sexy dad who's sexy because he's just a good dad, attentive dad, "oh honey you relax while I deal with the meltdown " dad.

Kris with a k will be a splash of all the hots dads rolled into pretty hot dad.com until then, just me and bff sunning while soaking up the whole not really living the dream situation around us-- despite hot husbands /dads.

Sent from my sexy brilliant blackberry.

Hawaii TV

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Bitter Nothing

I have no idea why i get on such highs and lows. its as if nothing can satiate me.

i just spent a week in hawaii with a man that adores me, who is rad all around, spent time with family an amazing fun time gorgeous time on the north shore in perfection and beauty. did two awesome TV segments, have business now rolling in i am being taken care of and yet this am the minute this friend asked me to this event , and is working with someone I should actually be working with who is a 

years long friend/contact) i am slightly irritated in this really lame kind of way, and I have no idea why. It's just ego

because truthfully i have no flipping desire to do events or even do pr in that way at all!

what am i doing with my life where am i goinga nd feel empty unsatisfied and left out like i am missing out on the big ball or star in the sky i hate it , i just spent 30 min trying to whoosh my way in to this situation in a retarded was and i hate myself for it for this moment. thsi too shall pass

but why not right now?

This + That

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I Guess This Mani Was Doomed From The Start

Pretty fingers are not meant to stencil with spraypaint. Oh, the sacrifices of creativity!!

The Mani - Pedi

Oh yes, so excited for the very long overdue mani pedi. The last one I got was when Kris with a K paid for it because I hooked up http://thevintagesurfboard.com/ blog for him and there has long since been many entries. Anyhow- very excited.

Lee is my girl at the Toe Heaven on Main St., Santa Monica. When I walked in the door, she waved, and I thought she would be attending to me promptly, but some man was managing the rotation of ladies, and he said she wouldn't be available for 20 minutes. I said, "Fine. I will wait." My sister was with me and just pleased to be without all of her other responsibilities for an afternoon. I find that a pedicure is the easiest form of quick relaxation without having to ohm or get naked with a massage therapist.

In an ideal world, I would bring all my own tools and be really proper about hygiene, but for some reason I have left my worries about all of that by the wayside and decided to trust my health to Toe Heaven and Lee (who gives the best foot massage.) Anyhow, since I was waiting 20 minutes, my feet were soaking in the warm, frothy whirlpool bath until we could get started. Now, also, if you know that your feet soak too long, your skin absorbs too much water and the cuticles are difficult to cut properly.

Lee came over and got started. She clipped and filed and nipped. Relaxation was settling in. Then, as I suspected (from the long soak), my big toe got nicked by those little nippers.

"DAMMIT TO ALL HELL- GRRRRR" in my head, as I quietly looked up at Lee with a raised eyebrow, 'ow.' She says sorry, puts some green drops of some liquid to stop the bleeding and carries on as if nothing happened. In my head, "I've been cut! Don't stop the bleeding, that is probably the best thing about this scenario- my blood will clean out all the nonsense that is swarming in this place!!!!" Now I have the total heebee geebees and am bummed and start wondering what I am going to find on WebMD once I get home. "I SHOULD ALWAYS BRING MY OWN TOOLS!" I think to myself. Then, I look over at my sister, she has no idea that I am a creeped out. She is eyes closed, cradled by the massage chair and by the lady massaging her feet. I get over it quickly and realize this sort of thing happens a lot and not everyone is dying or losing limbs from pedicures. In the end, I am pleased that my toes are now pretty in french pink and white!

We finish up, we go next door and find a good deal on shampoo and conditioner, get in the car and drive back to my house. Seems like a success. BUT, as I exit the car, my hand inadvertently launches itself into the wall and I have completely wrecked two of the very pretty in pink nails on my right hand. "DAMMIT, AGAIN!"

Really? Am I relaxed or do I have two more things to worry about? This is really the epitome of Bitter Happy, isn't it?

Oh Happy! Styrofoam Banned from Takeout in Santa Monica!

Styrofoam Banned from Takeout in Santa Monica! With over 600 food related establishments to choose from, Santa Monica is a great place to dine. However, plastic food service containers have become a major pollutant in our coastal waters, and across the nation. Now, Santa Monica stands with other leading cities in banning Styrofoam®, plastics marked #6, and other non-recyclable to-go containers. By providing sustainable to-go containers we protect the Santa Monica Bay and eat well.

Denny Runs Over Toolbox on Freeway

and gets a flat tire from a socket wrench extension. happy birthday nic!