Not THE Greatest Story Ever Told

Louis XIV

Did you know that Louis XIV's favorite , Athenais, spent MOST of her time as maitress en titré pregnant? And she still had the King in thrall. As a matter of fact, she had clothing designed to enhance her figure as some sort of godess of fecundity. Can't imagine where she got the energy.

Fa La La la BAH!

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored!

I wish I was doing something this holiday season... I just don't have the gift of entertaining myself, never have. I really miss working.

Today I went for the longed for wax... Childbirth will be mere child's play, 'cause at least you get drugs. Explain to me how anyone can take getting ALL of it taken off, please, because I think I would die. 'Course I'm a Mediterranean gal, but heck, Brazilians are a fuzzy people. Do they have no nerves near their girly bits? OW. Getting my furry self under control has been a life long obsession. When I HAD a little discretionary cash I spent it on laser hair removal. And I DO NOT regret it. I'd feel like a gorilla otherwise.

Also got my layers BARELY trimmed. I miss my pixie cut. Why oh why am I letting my mop grow out? T likes long hair, and I am becoming a slave to his preference. He also hates it when I paint my toes anything other than Cherries-in the Snow red, but heck if I'll give up my Walmart toes. I love my tacky toes. I'm hoping someone around here will do leopard spots. With sequins. AND maybe a toe ring.

My shower was very sweet. Beautiful, tasteful... It had a nautical theme! My friend B who threw it for me was an absolute angel, and it was nice to see my pals, although I have to say, I still feel sorta goofy opening baby gifts. I'm still not sure I QUITE believe I'm actually gonna have a baby. I guess I'm in for the shock of my life in about 3 weeks. Poor T, too.

Geeze aren't I fat? I'm doing pilates and jogging like a maniac in all my dreams... Oh vanity thy name c'est MOI.

Don't we both look slightly shell shocked in this picture?

Wow... my arm...looks like an unbaked loaf of French bread.

Huh... At least I have cleavage for the first time in my life.

Yes, now I am tormenting all of you with my faffing and thumb twiddling...

Oy....

bored,bored,bored,bored,bored,bored,bored,bored,bored.

Tick, tick Boom!

As I sit waiting in terror for little TBA to make his entrance onto the scene, I am filled with an overwhellming urge to preen. I desperately need a pedicure, a haircut and a *bikini wax*. I know you probably think me a vain, shallow creature... and you are absolutely right! But let's get real for a second. When is the next time that I will have any sort of a chance to take care of the little peacock that is me? The twelfth of never, that's when. By then I will have come to resemble a rainforest in Brazil, if you receive my meaning. Plus I'm missing REAL yoga, I'm retaining Lake Erie, and I resemble Orson Wells. Something must be done. I just don't know how I am to get the longed for grooming done... I'm not supposed to get my feet massaged, I may regret any hair brained haircut I decide on and I can't lie on my back long enough for the sadistic Russian lady to do her thing. Oh woe is me...

I am the pregnant Rodney Dangerfield

Case in point: In my last show I was wearing ( I know Demondoll can relate) A white unitard.... I'm pausing so you can all picture this... I am at a low ebb concerning my looks, feeling and looking like the Battleship Potemkin, and yet, I cavorted all of my extra poundage around for weeks, onstage, in a nationally renowned, Tony award winning yet, theatre in a blinding white stretchy, unforgiving, and god-help me if I had to pee, unitard. Oh the humanity!

This is the buggy crew. T is in my favorite color. He looked good in it. I was super jealous. His costumer made the baby a tiny replica of his worm hat.... AWWWWW!!!!

Babystrike proceeds apace. We are slowly and through the delightfully sweet auspices of friends and family, getting everything we need for little Norbert... Bartholomew? Titus?? Anyway one disturbing trend is the preponderance of WARNINGS on every available inch of baby stuff space. The dear little Bassinet/Co-sleeper thingy as much as warns you... do NOT leave your baby unattended in this thing, (huh???) well we had a panic attack and then noticed that the cribs say that, the car seats say that, the baby rockers say that... I guess the companies need to cover their butts by giving already nervous new parents high blood pressure. Not very pleasant or restful, but one does get used to it. Just remember: plastic bags are not toys (duh), baby seats shouldn't be installed in the drivers seat(double duh), and don't get freaked out if you hear your neighbors very saucy cell phone conversations on the baby monitor. It's all par for the course in Babylandia

Quickie!

I am so tuckered out at the end of the day that it's all I can do to drag myself to my beddy.
Love doing the show, it's been a blast and I'm going tot miss it, but I'm HUGE! Luckily since I'm playing a spider most people think it's just part of the costume.

I had my family here last weekend and had a great time, of course I couldn't play with them as much as I wanted to, but Myles got to see the show and he seemed to enjoy it... "Last year Tia D'ana cat, this year Spider..." he sighed astutely, and he proclaimed "SCARY!" when he saw the view from onstage and observed all the seats.

T and I are TRYING to take the whole "Birthing process" thing seriously... but can't get past the hilarity. When did it become mandatory for men to be squishy? T read that he was supposed to cry over his OWN baby pictures with me, and throw hissy fits on airplanes, and buy me expensive baubles, and offer them to me with tears in his eyes. He threw that book against the wall and has refused to read anything else. Really, do we honestly want weepy men populating the planet? NO WE DON'T! Suggestions for something less obnoxious? I really want those baubles!

BTW there is NO chivalry towards preggies in line for the bathroom. All the books say that the line will open up like Moses and the Red Sea. HA! Went to see a show the other night, waddled out to the bathroom during intermission, and all of the old women took one huge unsympathetic look at me, smirked and seemed to be saying "It's your funeral girlie, I went through it and had to tinkle in gutters!" It's not so much the peeing aspect of it... I HATE standing in line. At the post office some guy hollered at me when I went to go sit on the bench while I waited for my turn and then came back online. "So you're cutting?" he sneered, "No I'm pregnant" I said calmly, my tone dripping with scorn and my voice pitched loud enough so that the whole line could hear me... Chivalry, my big, over sized and growing huger by the day A$$.

Eat a Peach...

Oof.
We are two weeks into rehearsal for "Peach" and as usual, it is an absolute blast. I'm amazed I get paid to do this stuff. I'm running and spinning, pretending to be a spider, dancing my butt off, and apart from feeling FAT in my UNITARD (oh the indignity!) having a great time. The cast is comprised of some of my faves from the TYA "Rep". Funny, funny folk. 'Course, there's no one ruder or filthier than a kiddie theatre actor. I suppose it comes as an antidote for being cute all the time, but honestly, we'd make sailors blush.
I do sometimes forget that I'm not as limber as usual and I get really confused when I can't leap up from a sitting position, but so far I've felt good. The show is selling out quickly... This is a good one to go out on for a while.
I have NOTHING for the baby yet except a huge pile of clothing... There's procrastination and then there's this... Not my first choice, if it was totally up to me everything would be assembled and decided on and painted... oh well.. Must be ZEN. WILL find the room, WILL have a place, WILL stay calm... I've decided the tyke's "Theme" is going to be sailing and boats. It's good to have a point of reference, even if it's only a theory. Target has a nice baby registry, but I have no idea what I need... I'm such a dork. I've changed one diaper in my life, and I've held a newborn maybe twice... Cloth or disposable? Paper or plastic? Coffee, tea or Me?

I wonder if he's mad at me for jumping around so much.

Myles of Fun

We had a delightful trip to Calistoga with my fam.
We took the train up from LA to SJ. It was a comfortable 10 hour ride, we snuggled and ate and looked out the observation car. So much more relaxing than airplanes.
We arrived in SJ on Saturday night. On Sunday Morning my sis and her Hubby ran a 1/2 Marathon(!) Completely amazing. We stayed in bed. hehehe. We drove to Calistoga with my Dad. We stayed in the Carlin Cottages, a revamped motor court, and luxuriated in our hot spring fed pool. T and I were gloriously lazy. We didn't go to a single vineyard and mostly spent the time soaking like hippos. We did play a bit with my ADORABLE and Rambunctious nephew Myles. What a flirt he is. He batted his eyelashes and asked for surprises and one felt like a terrible ogre if one did not oblige!
Saw the petrified forest. It was... Petrified. Ate, ate, ate and had a massage and Tom and the baby got kicked out of the local dive bar 'cause the baby was under 21.
We got to hang with my sis a lot, she proceeded to joyfully and wickedly tell me all about how babies arrive in the world, furthering my desire to be knocked out the SECOND the first contraction appears. She's a world class Doctor, so she would know.... Somehow we managed to come away from Napa without a single bottle of wine. Oops. Came home on Wed via Southwest... one good thing about being knocked up? You get preboarding privileges on airplanes. The turkeys at security still make you take off your shoes. Try bending over with a bowling ball stuffed down your pants and you can imagine my humiliating predicament. I had to ask T to take my shoes off for me. Like a little old lady. Well, I have elastic waisted pants and I piddle when I sneeze, I waddle when I walk and my sciatica hurts. Leisure World here I come!
I do love a good vacation. Even if I did look like Shamu in my polka dot bikini.

Maternity Tours... get me off this bus!

27 Weeks

EEEK!!! T andI went on the maternity tour at South Coast Hospital on Monday. Neither of us are joiners, and both of us are wisecracking and sarcastic. Needless to say we were NOT the favorites of the group.
The leader had a lot of the worried sheep look that T and I grew to fear on the AIDS ride. She spent the first 15 minutes scolding us for our sins, which in my case include coffee, Punk rock and the occasional glass of red wine, oh and hot tubs, and late nights. Bad mommy. Then bad daddy for not getting a car seat RIGHT NOW, and for not taking Lamaze classes (Yeah, like I'm gonna puff on cue and concentrate on a picture to alleviate pain, HAH! I'll be cussing like a Hell's angel and throwing a punch at the nearest person who tries to be soothing. My birth plan includes lots of drugs and the soundtrack to the Filth and the Fury) With that we were left to watch a national Geographic video all about pregnancy. T leaned over and asked me why the baby looked like she was dipped in honey. Why indeed? 4D makes baby look like a badly cooked turkey.
The rooms are late Eighties pink and turquoise. Very Miami Vice. Dr Woody looks nothing like Sonny Crockett.
Just looking at the bed made me feel nauseous. It was narrow... it had a "squat" bar... and...ugh....stirrups. So like a medieval torture rack, but not in a sexy, Goth way. The Machines that go ping are disguised behind bad, faded art prints. It looked like a motel room in Nebraska.
Various gentlemen were asking sensitive questions about birthing balls, and tubs, and doulas etc. T and I were both thinking the same thing. Wimps. T's idea of pacing the waiting room smoking a cigar and watching football sounds better to me. Oh to be knocked out like a late 50's housewife. I'd love to go in, be out, and then wake up and someone hands me a cute little child. Sigh...
Before anyone panics, we are both preparing, we are going to do it all natural and stuff. We just WISH it could be like an old I Love Lucy episode. A girl can dream can't she? Mary Tyler Moore was so cute post natally... I'm going to look like I was attacked by Godzilla.
We were stopped in our world weary tracks. A baby was born while we were there. We could hear it... AAWWWWW!!!! Mushy and so sweet.
I guess I'll survive the goofiness of the maternity ward. As long as I'm healthy, the tyke is healthy and Tommy is healthy... Well... It's not THAT bad.

Birthing balls?

Didn't we already use those?

What a girl wants...

Peace and a babymoon.
A ring for me and a matching one for him. And a gold ID bracelet for Tyke-let
Mailbox money like I just received. Thanks 20th Century Fox!
Rock and Roll maternity wear and cute preggy lingerie.
More yoga, less back pain.
A cat. A dear sweet moggy of my own to love and love me back.
Name inspirations that fit a half English, half Colombian, all American child.

T's going to be in "James and the Giant Peach"! I'm Miss Spider, he's the Earthworm. I'm dying to see what our brilliant costume designer has come up with. I'm going to play my arachnid like Julie Walters in "Educating Rita"...

Hilarious advice from beloved pal...

This is so adorable, helpful and funny! Click on the title to see...

Discovery Health Channel and me

Is it crazy that I have become obsessed with watching people giving birth on TV? Fat people, thin people, diabetic people, Models (not people) I am just fascinated. Like watching monster truck battles. Frankly, it looks just gross. Yeah, yeah, it's natural, it's beautiful, you get an adorable little creature at the end of it and sometimes you get jewelry.
My beef is not with the ACT of giving birth, it's the fact that all of these people allow CAMERAS to FILM them and their naughty bits and their bad hair and their chipped toe polish and their po' hubbies with the long hair , and they look so, so, so.... Undignified! So ungainly. So trashy. So unabashedly America in the 21st century.

Had a OB appt today with the esteemed Dr. Woody. (yes... I know) T and I listened to the baby's heartbeat, which is always ADORABLE! T was my champ and asked about my backaches and my various needs. My babydaddy has been fantastic. He's attentive without being smothery, he's funny when I need it, sweet when I need it and very protective. It makes me adore him so much it takes my breath away! (or else the baby is sitting on my lungs... dunno) I'm not supposed to blog about him, it makes him cranky. He's a very private fellow, but I think he deserves serious props for really stepping up to the plate. I am a very lucky girl. I have a great man, a great family, and a sunny outlook. (today) I hope it is always thus

Bibs and Bobs

This is the Tykes face. He looks like an alien out of Close Encounters, but the sonogram-ista assured me he was "cute"...

I was 2 months along on the AIDS ride, excuse me very much, but I rock!

I'm very plump of belly, so plump that the sweet, considerate father of my child serenades me with the song... "Tub-e-lina, dance, not so tiny thing, Tub-e-lina you're so very large, when you flit around the house you are a barge...." When he brings me my morning teaspoon of coffee.

Last night I worked my murder mystery where I play a Can Can dancer. I barely squeezed, with the help of many safety pins and a heap-o-discomfort, into my outfit. Then when I pick up my foot and hold it over my head, ballerina style, like I ALWAYS do, and did 2 weeks ago before anyone KNEW I was preggo., the entire cast freaked and I got scolded for trying to do too much. I feel about as sexy as Dick Cheney.

The prenatal yoga is a snoozer. A bunch of rolly polly ladies-who-lunch, chanting OM and rubbing their bellies does not a good yoga class make! I'm conceding to this pregnancy thing and not running, not doing cardio and taking Yoga 1, nice and easy and no cobras or tummy poses. To quote a pal, "isn't downward facing dog how you got into this mess in the first place?" I don't know what to make of this don't lie on your back thing. I'm comfy on my back!... Yes..ok That IS how I got into this mess....

And..oh.. the problem of what to wear! I have 1 pair of shorts and 1 pair of jeans. I like Forever 21 for tops even if they are Christian crackerboxes. But the tops are way cute and princess waisted and over sized, just perfect for the pregnant unwed mother. It just cracks me up that they are purveyors of such SLUTTY clothing, but they still put their bible quote on the bottom of your bag. It's like In-and-Out burger is also constantly preaching from it's greasy food containers. How effective is french fry evangelizing anyway? Any hard data on people who lard up on burgers and then sing hallelujah? This is one weird country...

Anyhoo. I'm fat, I'm still stressed, we are trying to figure out where to live, and I only look cute in a bikini, cause that way at least you KNOW my delicate condition as opposed to just thinking, "gawd what a fatso!" And the tyke is learning to tap dance on my pancreas... Whee... isn't pregnancy fun!!!???!!!

Psst....wanna see....?

The infant phenomenon is going to be a handfull.
How do I know?
because my sonograms all start with a view:



...of his bits...
The technician giggled and said.."he's flashing us!'
Of course he is. An exhibitionist. Just like his Mummy.

"Aging Primate???"

Aging Primus...That's the lovely hospital term for first time mummy over 35. At first I thought they were saying aging primate. Which is also true, but seemed unnecessary, somehow.
Yes indeed, I am that primate! Nearly 5 months along!
Don't anyone get their knickers in a bundle, I have told very few people, and I've been waiting for the scary genetic/bad mommy test results to come back, which they have and so far so good. Also I had NO IDEA I was knocked up, around and sideways, until about 3 weeks ago...
Go ahead , laugh.
Are you done?
A: I have been on birth control pills for years. And "skipped" 2 cycles for the AIDS ride and then for a job B: I had NO symptoms (Sorry all you other gals) except for some serious crankiness, and I am at my "chubby" weight. Geez, I thought it was one too many Chipotle Burritos! C: Did I mention how careful I was about Birth Control?
Well it seems like the fertility gods decided to whack me in the rear and get me going whether I like it or not.
I am terrified. Every congratulations, every piece of advice, every new piece of OYVEY maternity wear I acquire fills me with fear and inevitably send me into a crying jag.
Let's not even bring up how T is doing.
You'd think we were both teenagers, instead of the ancient, antique OLD people the OB/Gyn keeps reminding us that we are.
Sigh. Yes I am excited, I think, but at the moment I'm mostly freaked. I have no money, no place to live, really and a very small group of friends most of whom live very far away. Frankly I'm mostly feeling sorry for myself... Please tell me it's the hormones.
The Tyke is going to be cute tho', I hope he's tall and smart like his daddy, and (yes, it's a BOY) I hope he has a good sense of humor, and is more easygoing than EITHER of his parents, and doesn't ever have to worry about food and shelter, and plays the piano, sings and doesn't want to go into show business!

What the....???? Uh Oh.....

Dear me... How does this sort of thing happen?
Tease...tease...

AIDS ride Day 7! 6/10 Ventura-Los Angeles

Amazing. Somehow we seem to have made it to the last day of the trek. Our last excuse for eating WAAAYYYY too much at breakfast. The last day to give thanks to our cute, punky roadie, with her adorable Mohawk hairdo. The very last day to have to endure morning poo filled porta-potties ( I know, I know, but I left it to the last day and for heaven sakes, 2000 people have NEEDS in the morning, and damn it I never was up early enough to use the potties when they were clean. It was traumatic!)
The sweet Chicken lady has left eggs filled with M and M's and a nice note on all our bike seats. Thanks Chicken Lady!
We are up early, rather anxious to get started as we have received numerous warnings that the route will close, precisely at 3:15. Since T and I are usually among the last group to roll in we live in fear of not being able to complete the ride, on this day of all days.
We pass Pt Mugu and Pt Hueneme, it's a little sad to see how empty these bases are as their usual occupants are off on an extended vacation in the Middle East.
We hit the coast in earnest at the start of the Santa Monica mountains. We barely stop at the rest stops. D is craving fried oysters for some reason, but we do not stop. Until... T's wheel isn't spinning true... another broken spoke! In a miraculous turn, the SAME bike tech is there, and he still has T's box of spokes with him! We are quite sick of the bagged lunch on offer at the stop, but we eat it, waiting with baited breath while super-tech checks T's bike, to see if we can indeed go on

We ride through Malibu and wonder where the heck the stars are? Where are Cher and Brittney? (D) and Barbra and Johnny?(T)
The ocean front isn't THAT big, you'd think one of these hotshots would at least SHOW themselves! George C where are you?
Major beach-y traffic, as it's a sunny Saturday in June (Note: "Carback!" is still shrieked with the same nerdy, earnest intensity of 7 days ago. It's all but intolerable. T & D are just not that into groupthink)
Get this: 2 cyclists get moving violation tickets for going through red lights... Aren't the Malibu cops just the sweetest? Course T and D think it's funny because it's the hotshots who get caught.
We are on PCH along with all of the traffic, then we get shunted onto the Santa Monica bike path. It's a blast to be riding a road we know well. We go under a tunnel where D and T have to carry (oof!) the all of a sudden much heavier than usual bikes down, then up a flight of stairs. We go up our last hill, up to San Vincente Blvd. get Red Vines at the top as usual.
People are lining the streets of Brentwood, cheering and waving, we are both just TIRED. Have to stop and take a quick breather just blocks from the finish. So Dang HOT.
As we climb into Westwood, the streets are teeming with spandex clad riders. They are at Jamba juice, Starbucks, Baja Fresh, Barnes and Noble... Anywhere but on the road. And there is only one block to go! Tempting fate I guess. We make it with 45 minutes to spare.It's a thrill to make the finish line. REAL cheers. We have a glorious sense of accomplishment and triumph. T's bike super-tech, Ted asks him to autograph a poster, which seems ironic, T tempted to give Ted kiss full on the lips for all he did, but thinks better of it, settles for nice many handshake. T gets a nice picture taken by a newspaper at the finish line. It's the one of him grinning that appears here:

Now it's a whirlwind of picking up our completion T shirt, drinking bottle after bottle of Vitamin water, failing to find a place to piddle, then grabbing our bikes for the closing ceremony.
LOOOOOOONG wait for the ceremony to begin. Uncharacteristically we are in the first phalanx of riders. D barely able to stand, and bladder protesting vehemently the Vitamin water.
The final moments are something to remember, wave after wave of rider come in to the pens, hoist their bikes over their heads (T and D just grin and wave) It's a long ceremony, Mayor Villaraigosa gives a speech, D has to hop fence and sprint to port-a-loo, as the Champagne that has been generously given her is the last straw. D hops back in time. Big whoop from the crowd!.... Then it's all over.
T's Mim, and niece, E somehow manage to rescue us from the madding crowd. Mad rush to find gear, find car, pack gear.... then home on the 405s to Laguna Beach.
Months of planning, terror of not being able to raise the money, not being capable of riding, less than pristine equipment, fear that D and T will fight all week and dump each other at end.... It was indeed a terror, but also a great joy, and a bonding experience and a whole lot of adventure. Maybe next year... We'll do it again!

AIDS ride Day 6! 6/9 Lompoc - Ventura

T rolls out of the tangle of bike shorts, smelly socks and freezing cold sleeping bags, and mumbles something about not riding today, D says, "I think you'll regret it." T looking at the uncomfortable, unwarm sleeping arrangements, sighs and agrees, bottom pain is better than sitting in an alternately hot-cold tent all day. D has slight hangover from 1 small glass of wine the night before. Dream of roads and gravel and grates and trucks all night. Grumble to breakfast, to stretching class, to bike, out park. Then.... Beauty.
The terrain is green, covered in Spanish moss and filled with chatty and companionable cows. The ride is beginning to be a tonic. Living in a tent is taxing, it's impossible to get warm, washing clothing is a joke, the scent is less than perfumed, so getting out into open country becomes a sweet reward. Amazing how different California is. Every few miles she CHANGES. Vineyards, farms, fields, mountains, beaches, monasteries, tiny villages of 100 and under. Really the most remarkable thing is how small town and Mayberry RFD California is.
We get to ride through cliffs cut by the army corps of engineers, cold and very steep, and then are riding the 101. It's a test to ones' fortitude to ride by all the rumbling 18 wheelers. The ride is mostly uneventful, except we note that riders have collapsed by the side of the road in alarming numbers. No one is SERIOUSLY ill, just fatigued beyond endurance.
We stop to peel off our outerwear when an aggressive bee decides to assault Di. Her over-the-top yelping bring immediate rescue from quick thinking T as he pulls a massive stinger out of D's side.
Having never been stung by a bee before, D goes to the med tent, the Doctor warns her that she will be "sagged" and given Benadryll if she has any inkling of allergy. Dr. lists potential symptoms. T claims D experiences each as they are mentioned, D must be in shock as she has no recollection of such blatant overreaction to a little tiny bee.
Swollen throat and itchy head fail to materialize, so apparently D is still impervious to allergies. Free to continue on our merry way. Onward to the last night of camping....
Tonight there is a silent candlelight vigil for the victims of the virus. A sweet and heartbreaking experience to stand on the beach in Ventura carrying candles and thinking of the people we have loved and lost.

AIDS ride Day 5! 6/8 Santa Maria- Lompoc Red Dress Day!

Red Dress day is literally that. Thousands of people, men and women, peddling out in red dresses in varying degrees of taste.
D wears a red tutu that is a gift from T, He wears a fetching pair of striped boxers with comedy buttocks sticking out. (Hopefully there will be pictures!) T endures a days worth of vulgar comments, the fake butt IS very amusing! Gives a new meaning to bringing up the rear, doesn't it? hahaha.
Up early and in the pack thru Strawberry Fields (forever) pedal furiously to keep up and are pleased to find we are passing people!
5 huge hills: One gigantic trek up the 101 just past Vandenberg AFB, where D is alarmed to see signs warning of unexploded ordnance (bombs!) Pleasant chats with many cows and fields of wild deep purple swee' peas.
The tiny city of Casmalia (pop 100) Throws a dance party in front of the tiny general store. The whole town comes out to watch, party and cook us bar-b-que.
Lots of hills to cope with, but we barely stop at the rest stops, 'cause we want to look like hot shots.We arrive at camp relatively early.
Lompoc is adorable, small, a little depressed, and the mural capital of California. We go into town from camp on the bus, because a sheep-faced lady sez we'll never be able to walk that far. (We are very tired of the bossy broads on this trip,it seems to inspire worry and angst and buttinski-ness in a certain breed of older lady.) It's about a mile away(!)
Old town Lompoc is cute and sleepy, we spring into the local bookshop and are soothed at the cafe. The proprietress of the bookstore flirts outrageously with T, gets him to give her his home address and she sends him provocative bookmarks.This passes for flirting in the bookselling biz. D well nigh invisible. D's cross to bear.
Coffee is T's 1st good cup in 6 days.
We go to a local steakhouse, "The Blacksmith" for dinner, have illicit wine/beer, HUGE roasted 'choke and Portuguese pupu platter.
We skip bus cause of local crazy and walk to camp. Not that far and a pleasant walk to boot. We catch end of talent show (which we had been asked to do, but turned down. T hates playing keyboards) Not so talent show actually.. One GREAT comedian and one great singer/guitar act. Some really reprehensible lip syncing.
Coldish. Our friend Jose from day one is still sweet as ever in spite of a mounting knee problem.
We turn in, try Jelly sandwich sleeping bag configuration.

AIDS ride Day 4! 6/7 Paso Robles- Santa Maria

Up Early! HA! Bike fixed and we are on our way. Today we climb the "Evil Twins". No idea why these mounts deserve a nickname when there are hills FAR more heinous, we work hard to climb, but not so hard we don't notice the fascinating roadkill. A whole deer skeleton, raccoons, skunks and tons of snakes, all in various stages of interesting decomposition. We are proud to bike (as opposed to walk) up these hills, every inch. We are 1/2 way to LA. We get to pose with Ginger Brewlay, we attempt to lift our bikes over our heads and practically conk each other on the noggin. Raise our fists in triumph instead. The down hill is again a wonderment. So fast and refreshing and such a welcome relief on our poor beleaguered, calloused and raw booties, to be able to coast standing up. T is shocked that girls are now peeing openly on the side of the road. D sympathizes as every time she tries to piddle while on the road, rude male voices inform her the tree she is trying to hide behind is the "men's room"
Inland for so long that pelicans come as a shock, them BOOM! The ocean and Morro rock come into view as we turn onto PCH just before Morro Bay. Absolutely takes one's breath away, it is so beautiful.
T snaps photos of Motels for sale and we discuss buying one and living here forever.
T's knee is giving out, we stop at the last rest stop, which is decorated with S & M pictures, T seems revived after stop. Hmmm....?
In Santa Maria camp, T heads straight to Sports Med. tent. Katie from Huntington Beach treats him and teaches better stretches for the knees.
We feed adorable ducks our stale "Goldfish" crackers.
We try a Pita bread configuration for the sleeping bags to stay warm.

AIDS ride Day 3! 6/6 King City-Paso Robles

TRIED to get up earlier, really tried! Failed. T's bike is flat AND has a broken spoke. Bike tech jerry-rigs the spoke and promises to fix it at lunch. The road is terrible, rutted, pitted and bouncy, it's freezing, the caboose is chasing us so we are in fear that we will be "Sagged" (Removed from the road and, Horrors!, bused to camp) Just as we start to put in maximum effort, pop,pop... T breaks 2 more spokes. Are we doomed?
We get "Swept" (taken to the next rest stop) By Midori and Ken in the Bunny Luv van. We are grim. They give us candy and stickers, we accept the kindergarten treats because, being deprived of luxury, gummi bears sound like caviar.
The bike tech's have NO spokes that will fit the wheel. We are so depressed, until the bike guy says he'll go into town and BUY the right ones and meet us at the next stop. Now we just have to connive our way onto a sweep van, cause regulations say that when you are in bike trouble you are DONE, But father Fred and the Black Sheep come through and (illegally) give us a ride.
Fr. Fred nearly loses his head taking T's heavy bike off the top of the van (seriously, the ladder went out from under him and he was being strangled between the bike and his van! Quick thinking Drag Queens save him from certain doom.)
Miraculously spokes have been found to fit T's outsized bike. T is worshipful at the resourcefulness of our tech who found a bike shop in the middle of farm land that carried equipment for T's Beach cruiser.
We are shaken but determined and a quick nap in the tent when we arrive at camp revives and refreshes.
T and D get well deserved massages. T's gal says his skin is "thick" which worries him for a couple of days.
D craves chocolate milk and drinks about a gallon. D is lactose intolerant.... T is surprisingly tolerant. He craves fish and rice and eats more than your average linebacker.
Walking back from dinner they run into a Roller Derby! It's colorful and folkloric, and a pleasant brain-scrub from the ride. D reveals not so hidden dream of Roller Derby stardom as Lulu the Lulu, killer skater. T alarmed.

AIDS ride Day 2! 6/5 Santa Cruz - King City

Awakened in Santa Cruz by our neighbors alarms. About 1838 alarms, different sounds all LOUD! We groggily load our tent, then discover we are LAST at the food tent. OOPS.... gulp, gulp our coldish breakfast, rush rush to get out of camp before we get scooped up by the bus. Almost the last to pick up our bikes... We are still learning how regimented and military boot camp this ride truly is.
We aren't totally alone on the route but almost, we bypass free smoothies and coffee, "Gotta make time!!!" Pedal thru Aptos, which is green and redwood; Strawberry Fields, the aroma is intoxicating. The fields are T's favorite thing in the state.
We manage to get to Monterey with a minimum of fuss, until we stop at Moss Landing Cafe, where di loses her backpack with ALL her credit cards as well as ALL the bike equipment. OY.
D is a wreck about this loss until T force feeds her tacos and pineapple soda. Things better from then on.
The bike path seems like it's in Nebraska, It's getting very hot. On and on....
King City is an old Train Depot. A cranky Di gets a massage. It is FREEZING. T gets chilled to the bone and never really manages to warm up. Thanks to Rusty L. we have a tarp to keep our drafty little tent warm... helps tremendously.
Asleep before our heads hit the pillow.

AIDS ride Day 1 San Francisco-Santa Cruz! 6/4

Up at 4:30 am. D and A, just back from their night out are still in their party clothes, including my brothers very hip utilikilt (see earlier Sam Maloof entry for more info about said kilt).
They take us to the Cow slaughter...er... palace, the city is suprisingly clear and warm. We get dropped off in the middle of bicycle chaos. Heads whirling we drop our bags off at the gear truck, realizing we shoulda got duffels with wheels.
We are given Red helmet covers that say, "not another 25 years" and we bike out of the Cow P en masse at 7am.
Again we are gloomy to note that our bikes are big, our tires are big, we don't have clip in shoes and our clothing is thrift store chic, as opposed to the truly fantastic and glam assortment of bike wear. Several Colombians are spotted. We meet Jose, a sweet guy, HIV+, whom we love because his bike is as unwieldy as ours AND he's wearing sneakers! He's been on the ride before and he utters the immortal line, "I just never learn from my mistakes." He gives T a clip to hold his map to his bike.
THE RIDE OUT! The roadies are dressed as cows and are waving cow bells at us. Tons of people on the street are waving and hollering. Adrenaline is moving us on until... FOG! T has to stop every couple of minutes to wipe his glasses, he strikes up friendship w/ "Lenny" a man who has to be just under 7 feet. The riding is exhilirating, through the heart of S.S.F and into Daly City.
The first rest stop is soothing, except for the loud disco music that is playing and that turns out to be playing ALL the time. T is challenged, he is allergic to Cher. We apply loads of squishy Butt Butter and are introduced to P'nut Butter and jelly graham bars.. yum yum.
We keep riding through fog and make it to rest stop 2 just as it's closing (a tradition for Team Goober, as it turns out) We fill up the Gatorade tank and start up a scary hill into Half Moon bay nicknamed Carback Mountain. Traffic is constant and there is no shoulder. At the crest of this switchbacky hill there are Koto drummers (inspired) and red vines (soothing) T meets a lady who is terrified of going downhill and quits the day tthere and then... boy is she in for a few surprises! Down hill like a roller coaster and such a reward after the uphill.feels like it takes about 2 minutes to go 6 miles on a %7 grade. A little reckless, but very fun. We land in pretty valley, again with too much traffic, T is almost crushed by an RV..
We land In Half Moon bay. Lovely coastline, no nasty McMansions blotting the sea, just a few farms and lots of pretty dunes.
More Travel... getting so tired the miles just begin to blend...roll, roll, roll, spin, spin, spin.... and into Camp 1.

AIDS ride Orientation Day! 6/3

We awaken at my parents house in San Jose, having been driven there the day before by Tom's dad, Robert. My mom is making arepas (heavenly Colombian corn pancakes) My mom is chatting with T's dad, my poor dad is stuck on call at the hospital. We gobble our delicious breakfast and scurry to the nearest bike shop, which sells us tire tubes and tools for 40% OFF!!! Groovy until the tubes turn out to be ALL WRONG (more later) which is in the tradition of all the gormless bike shop guys we have dealt with in the past 6 months. Run into Longs and get throw away cameras (destroyed later) Go to Army surplus and get Dutch UN duffel bags for cheep! Hoorah, now all our stuff actually fits in one bag! Sleeping bag, pad and pile of sporty clothes ( all wrong, more later)
Mom and I ride in one car, Tom and Robert ride with the bikes in another and we make our way to the Cow Palace. ( A literal cow barn and auction house) We go to drop off our bikes and gulp deeply at the fact that ours are the biggest and cruise-iest bikes on the lot. We take nervous inventory of the hot shot bikes and start to REALLY freak out. We are scared we are NOT ready for this challenge.
The donation thing took so long to clear up that we missed the first safety video ( which consequently got us put in the LAST of the tents for sleeping) Robert leaves for his dinner appointment.
Panicked and crazed, we slowly have meltdowns fron the scary so called safety video.
Mom takes T and Me to Musee Mechanique. Very soothing... Hook up with my brother and his girl and have Yummy crab at "The Franciscan" Donald and Diana put on a floor show with the crab legs. T and D have their last G and T's for a week.
Mom drops T and D at Don's Goth black Jetta, we go to Fort Point and gaze at the Golden gate bridge. At Don's brand new apartment we stare at our unruly PILES of stuff, while D and A get ready to go to Thunderdome. They leave us with the not-so-soothing "The Aristocrats" we go to bed terrified and get not a wink of sleep.

Cabins and Cabinets

Well it's been a quiet few weeks in Laguna Beach, my new hometown. Having finished Eureka! I've been suffering from the usual "where is my next meal coming from?" Panic. Add that to the "I'm going to be on that torture device known as a bicycle for HOW may miles?" and "I need an apartment somewhere in LA" and "I never see my friends anymore" and "We are doing a cabaret WHEN?"...Sigh, I wake up sweating at 4 am a lot.
Last week we had a trip to IKEA which was a little bit like exploring the Congo. Schmuutt and Kuurgles and Haasbekke, where the hell is the thing called "chest of drawers!?" Had Swedish meatballs, bought a Kluumett and constructed it in 3 hours! Without killing each other! T and I agree that a speed round of build an IKEA project with your mate will REALLY prove compatibility. I tried giving T a rock and roll history lesson during our construction time, he listened politely but rather disinterestedly. We're up to Buddy Holly... I think I'd better sell my U2 tickets on eBay.
We also went up to Cuyamaca to do some cabin clean up and exploration. The Shelton family has 100 acres up near Julian, but most of it was devastated by fire 2 years ago. Went with his cousins, including the fabulous K who put us in her UN DVD. I got blown up by a landmine! (On film that is, no one panic....) Also the cabin got measured with an eye to fixing. I had a great time but I'm afraid I'm becoming the "I love you Dahling , but give me park avenue!" gal.... Nah that's not true, I just was feeling ishy, and I couldn't enjoy it to the FULLEST extent. T is salvaging pieces from the burnt down cabins and making a Louise Nevelson. The remaining cabin is cute and rustic and way DARK at night. I'm afraid I misbehaved a bit, as one weird noise in the middle of the night had me sitting bolt upright and hollering, which had T dying of laughter, because what I thought was a mountain lion... Was the front door opening.
T is grouchy. I gave him what I realize now is a TERRIBLE gift for his birthday, laser Teeth Whitening. He's had to go to the dentist twice now, once for the initial and once for the cleaning and he's got to go back again for the actual laser. The dentist is apparently very bossy and mean, but his teeth look great. However he's been a bear for HOURS after his appointments. Next year he's getting a book.
Our cabaret act is shaping up nicely. T is so good on the damn piano! It's intimidating. But I think we're going to sound pretty good.

Randomness:

1: I just bought a new bike! Hurrah, Sea Schwinn AKA 2 Wheels 1 Planet in Costa Mesa. Great guys, no hard sell, and I got new bike pankies for my popo, and the gave me 10% off for being on the AIDS/Ride

2: 6 more Eurekas! to go!

3: Karl Rove is a complete tool.

4: I love my new gym, except for the weirdly stressed out tech employees who hog the cardio machines. I hope they have a defibrulator close by, these guys look like they are about to pop a blood vessel.

5: I was in an episode of "The Unit" I finally got to watch the tape, and I'll be damned, I'm getting better on camera. Now I know how to tamp down the theatre "Bigness"

6: T does not listen to Rock and Roll (!)

7: I love 103.1 Indy and Steve Jones, and I LOVE loud punk rock.

8: Folks are being great about helping us out on the aids ride.

9: My mom sent me a great goodie box from Colombia.

10:Contained theirin was a program from a HUGE theatre festival in Bogota, looks amazing, experimental and challenging theatre.

11: I still miss my cats

12: I need a wee vacation.

13: My nephew is a genius.

Has anyone seen a commercial for the PT Cruiser recently?

Rise up, oh the people.

I've been having an interesting experience doing Eureka! Since the illegal immigration issue has been heating up. Along with various other historical characters, I play Francisca Benicia Vallejo, The wife of General Vallejo, for whom the original capitol of California was named. In the scene where the young gold miner meets the Vallejos, the General talks about how California used to be a part of Mexico, and how Yankees took his land. I sing, as Benicia a corrido (translated into Spanish by my father, Emiro) about the loss and theft of the Mexican land by whites. Now in places like Santa Ana, Fontana, Long Beach, where there is a huge immigrant, even migrant population, the kids were always delighted that I spoke "Their" language, was dressed in Mexican garb and was very dignified and noble. But NOW, since all the Publicity, and the morning DJ's talking about the situation and exhorting their listeners to march, to rebel, to wear Mexican flags, etc, kids as young as kindergarten are cheering, clapping, whooping. They get really riled up. It's awesome and a little scary. BUT as a contrast in the richer areas like Laguna and Newport, a lot of the adults narrow their eyes at us, cross their arms, and when I say, "This once was OUR land..." The tension is so thick you could cut It with a cuchillo.
Odd, odd, odd.
I'm a legal immigrant, but still, I did emigrate to this country, I remember the pride I felt when I became a citizen and I take my responsibilities as a voter very seriously. More undocumented soldiers than ever are fighting as the Army of Juan, Hispanics are poised to be the majority soon, has this wakened the sleeping tigre?
The anger is so real. And I'm afraid that one misstep is going to cause riots and hate crimes to erupt.
WOW....

Dona Benicia came from a long line of strong women. Her mother was one of the first woman winemakers in Sonoma County. At the age of 17, she traveled for four weeks by mule while pregnant to reach her husband, General Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo and was the mother of 16 children of which ten survived to adulthood.
After the founding of Benicia, named after her, she began to go by that name instead of Francisca and was thereafter known as Dona Benicia.

I crave kittens

Yes...I want a boxful of Kittens.
I miss my cats,
Need cats. Cats solve EVERYTHING. They are just so darn practical.
AND since my baby lust is not being fulfilled yet... WELL KITTENS FIT THE BILL!!!!!

Meow meow say MEOW!!!!

hehehehehehe

Happy Damn Easter!!!!

Yes he's cute...isn't he?
Blah day... I couldn't sleep last night, was overwhelmed by nightmares, and had to wake up way to early to do that DAMN gold rush show.
Was mean all day, grouchy, obstreperous and unbearable.Mean to T, mean to M, mean to myself. Desperately missing feline company. Angrier that Johnny Rotten at a Pat Boone concert.
I was really looking forward to a new dance class tonight at my new gym, (side note: NOTHING is available in Laguna Beach unless one is prepared to pay through the nose. No gyms, no pedicure salons, no hairstylists, not even a cheap drugstore to buy a consoling lipstick)
ALAS. The canyon is closed and there is NO way out of town and towards my dance class that won't take me 45 min's out of my way. I KNOW I am acting spoiled and childish.... But geez. Plus a lady (with her baby) is going the wrong way down Temple Hills Drive and nearly pastes me with her SUV. The cops get snotty and tell me to TURN AROUND...
AAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHHHHH! I am going to bed and pulling the covers over my head and not moving until the morn. I have to get up and do a show at 8:10am tomorrow for 8th graders (in one of the riches enclaves of the OC) knowing they will hate the show and queen mugs-a-lot (or me), then get in my car (Which needs new tires!!! AAAAAAH!) and DRIVE to FONTANA!!! For a 2 o'clock show! I am soooo damn over it!!!!!!!! 19 more shows! 10 days! OVER IT OVER IT OVER IT!!!!!!!!!!

so....

how are you?

Lord and Lady Loony

Poor T is wrestling with his taxes, while I sit here at my laptop, looking at Catalina and dying to go down to the beach... My patience is being tried... But only cause I get just one day off this week... Must CRAM it with fun!

Hey! Tiger and I are going to be featured in the local paper, asking for donations and looking (Hopefully) relaxed and groovy and windblown.

"Who us? We always bike in formalwear!"

(I just got an email from the editor of the paper telling me she is out of town till the 23rd... OOOO HHHHH OOO I hate to WAIT! I guess the universe has decided that I have to work on my impatience. BOTHER!)

Summer is here! (Temporarily)

T's Niece and her friend are here this weekend for their spring break from school, and in the style of teens everywhere all they want to do is hang out at the beach. T and I went with them yesterday, I got out early from work, and got crispier than a piece of chorizo.
Main beach was GLORIOUS! It was hot, uncrowded and as an added treat there was a pod of dolphins frolicking in the surf. T and I tried to swim with said cetaceans, but couldn't get too far as the water was 55*! Brother, I was raised in the bathtub-like waters of Colombia. I will NEVER get used to the bone chilly Pacific. It was rather awesome to realize, "Hey I live in the REAL real Laguna Beach!" Many pasty thighed tourists in evidence.
Alabama was fun... At least the mile square of it that I got to see... I spent about 36 hours there for a wedding. We saw snakes, water moccasin's, and ugly little buggers they are too. Saw Turtles, butterflies and BMX'ers in their native setting.
Just joined 24 hour fitness. Don't be shocked but what sealed the deal was their pole dancing class.... Yeah I KNOW!!!???!!
My friend Richard just made a trailer for a movie called "El Lobo" It's a mexican twist on the Wolfman and it sounds sooooo timely!
Any other Latino not going to work on MayDay? Si Se Puede!

A fiction:
In Colombia the sky is a blue that is almost obscene, it is so beautiful. So blue that no one in the country has eyes that blue, because it would be impossible to compete with the color. My beloved, beautiful grandmother adored that blue. Her name was Russian. Her father, a wastrel, a third born son and a reader of a great many novels named her after some character from a Russian story. She suffered greatly. She had been married off at 15 to a man much older. In their wedding picture he is leaning against the wall because he didn't have the strength to hold himself up. He was cruel, in the way weak men are cruel, and their marriage was never happy. She wanted many children, but was blessed with only one, my mother. I have a suspicion that she was the product of some small affair, some little glimpse of happiness, that my grandma had. My Mami, who had a Russian name as well, was tiny and delicate and snow white and not at all like the other children in the family, who were robust and indian. She was smart and bright. She was so pretty she was chosen almost every year of her girlhood to be the one to dress the Madonna of the sea.
This particular Madonna had been rescued from the Caribbean. She had been on a ship from spain that sank and she washed ashore at Puerto Colombia, naked, the sea having eaten her gown. The people of Puerto rescued her, took her naked form from the beach, washed her, and clothed her beautiful body in new robes. It became a tradition, that every year the young girls would remove her old robes and dress her in new ones. She was a sacred doll, and particularly beautiful because she had alabaster skin, and black black hair. Real Hair, that somehow managed to survive her ravaging by the sea. My mother was one of the girls who would sew for her, clean her, and dress her for her annual parade around the town square. The Madonna still lives in the tiny broken down church in Puerto Colombia. The town is in ruins, but the black haired Virgin is there, raising her limpid eyes to the population that adores her.
(A start of a story)

Target...dream or dante's inferno?

I just spent 2 shows worth of income on a new garment bag at Tar-dzeey. That red symbol, those groaning aisles, Luella, Isaac... ayayayay. This is the CUTEST garment bag I have ever owned. It has a peony on it!
Lordy but I'm a sucker for good design. And anything pink. AND I NEED new luggage anyway.. I lost all of my old stuff in "The Divorce" If I had the money... boy I would've bought the whole luggage line. It's classic and classy. I also got a new iPod holder and it has skulls on it!!! Pink accented skulls! How could I possibly have resisted? Even if my iPod is prehistoric, OLD and Old and OLD! Retail therapy. A cure for my lonely self. Thank god I know better than to put it on my credit card; when one works strictly cash, spending is curtailed. And a good thing too... I love pretty things so much...

Looking for Mr. Graham...

I had a great friend in HS, well not actually in HS, we did shows together at SJCMT in San Jose. Our first show was "Joseph and the Amazing...etc" We played brothers. John Graham, where are you? Remember a weem a weh? And F@$#@t Bro? And all that fun we had together on my prom night, where even tho' you didn't go to my school, we took our mutually loony dates to the bunkers in San Francisco? You were a great friend. Last I heard you were at UCSB. Hey! Did you become a journalist?
You were weird and I adored you!
Deenie

My Nephew is SOOO cute!

I mean C'mon! could he be cuter? How could one NOT want one?

Tom is driving to Alabama with his Dad and I am left behind like an unbeliever...
I'm going next week, but sigh...I hate being left out of the fun.
Ah well....
I'm going to bike MILES and MILES while he's gone!
'cept of course I have 10 Desperate Housewives episodes to watch first.
hehehe

Just a thought...

You know, they say you never know a person until you walk a mile in their shoes. Here's a walk in mine:
Up at 6am to drive to an elementary school, perform once, perhaps twice. Lunch at 11am, then another show. Sometimes I go straight from the school to a murder mystery gig. Home maybe before midnight, then the day starts again. I am constantly worrying about where my next paycheck is going to spring. As you ALL know, it's hard to live out here in LA on the money an actor makes. Anyway, I am constantly exhausted and perhaps not as attentive to my friendships as I should be. I love T and I love Laguna Beach, but I am isolated from my friends by the vagaries of freeways. I miss my friends, girlfriends especially. I work with men, and they just don't GET it when one needs girl time.
I recently had a bit of a blow, regarding a friendship. I feel like I'm in mourning.
So this morning I arrive at work, it's been a LOONG drive, I've been awake most of the night feeling a little sad and low. I sing a pretty ballad in Spanish(translated by my lovely dad), it's kinda sad. And BOOM... A tear drops down my face. On stage. Total meltdown. I barely get through the last five minutes of the show and the boys, bless 'em, all look like I am carrying a nuclear weapon. They back away slowly, and frightened at the depth of femaleness (tears). The stage manager kindly lets me go. I bawl my eyes out in my beloved car. I call my girlfriends, and by GOD they rally me. P is fierce and lovely and C is kind and gentle, my sister lends a sympathetic ear with no judgment and I realize... There are women out there who still love me. It's hard. I know I did something "Wrong". But I still need my friends... Sigh
Oh... and I miss my kitty boyz so much.... I love those cats more than my own life.... double sigh.
Well on a brighter note, T and I went Lindy Hoppin' last Saturday... He's a hella good dancer... lucky me! And he knows I've been low so we're going out tonight...
Still It's a bit of a lonely St Paddys Day

TTTPPPPHHHHHBBBBTTTT!!!!

I was in The Razzies on Saturday...

The press was out of control. CNN, the BBC, the AP and countless tiny Japanese women with steady cams, and a Scottish guy in a full kilt. What in the world was THAT about?
We were at the Ivar Theatre in Hollywood and could see the Oscar hullabaloo from the Blvd. We got there WAAAY early and had the treat of going to Roscoes Chicken and Waffles and eating everything in sight. We strolled the Blvd and went to Hollywood Toy and Costume and bought T's Mum a boxing Nun.
I have to confess Star Wars III was the only movie I saw... I would have been so mad losing precious life-hours watching dreck like Jennie McCarthys "Dirty Love". And for the record, I love performing in the Razzies but believe me, I know that there but for the grace of {{{insert deity here}}} go I!!
Another Kaiser trip for T on Sunday.... I won't go into details, but let me tell you ,Children's theatre is dangerous, Kids are disease ridden little darlings! And YET that ol' Biological clock is tic tic ticking... Amazing thing, nature...
Eureka! is still going strong. Only 80 more shows to go.... oh GAWD! At least I'm a working actor, right? RIGHT????? sigh....

AIDS Ride Site.

Boaty Boat

Here we are with the boat! Her name is Miss Kubilick, first person to tell me why gets a prize. It was a weathery day, Valentines Day, but he took me out 'cause I really wanted to go! I got a nice pressie too....

Re the AIDS ride: We biked up Temple Hills Dr on Monday.....


Um...Hills HARD!!!!!!

AIDS Ride is a go!

WOW! We actually biked from laguna beach to San Juan Capistrano on Superbowl Sunday. The picture is in Dana Point where we stopped to look at the tall ship.

Boy oh boy.... padding your bottom is essential on these rideabouts. Yeouch. We both just wanted to sit in a tub of ice cold water. Course I had to go to REHEARSAL that night!!! Yipes and ouch. We are working hard to raise $5000. Hey! here's a place to donate!

Donate Here! Yep Just click here....

Here's a pixie of T and Me at The Laguna Playhouse benefit.

His Noel Coward act was a triumph. (Everyone asked us if he was playing Sir Noel next year in the musical version playing at the playhouse. I think a grass roots campaign should be started. He was charming.) We could be charming at YOUR next event! Our act is shaping up nicely. I'm really proud of what we are putting together. Now we need to get new bikes and super padded shorts.

Another bit of fun news: Alfie is back! He is cute as ever but missing his stickers where they replaced his tailgate. Now we've got to figure out how to put the bike rack on him and off we go.....

Updates/Outdates

Advice to all actors, courtesy of Knotts Berry farm

Still NO sign of my Mini. Spectrum Collision in Irvine absolutely STINKS!!!!! 2 and a half months, ladies and gents, and I am convinced that they have sold Alfie into white slavery. I had to pay the rental car co for 70 days.... $1900! And the guy at Spectrum claims that the paint job "Wasn't up to our standards" so they have to keep Alfie ANOTHER week...or twelve!AAAUUGGHH! What a line of BS!

Eureka! Continues well, tho' I am convinced that someone is going to end up crying. Early mornings and strong personalities do not an ideal situation make.

Been doing yoga for 4 days straight in an effort to boost my lazy bottom back into shape... Happiness will make you fat. Well makes me fat anyway, T is slim and cute. Of course I'm partial... The campaign to get him into a pair of 501's is going very badly indeed. He refuses to have anything to do with jeans. The irony is he has a cute tushie that would be even cuter in denim, but *sigh* try getting a boomer to do something he doesn't want to. He is acquiring a nice retro hip wardrobe, thanks to me. He looks like a 50's era beatnik musician.

We went to see "The Further Adventures of Hedda Gabler" at SCR last night (a nice perk of the job... All the free theatre you can eat) extremely entertaining, a little confusing, but very funny. And the lady who plays Mammy is one brave and powerful actress. Ultimately the play is written for theatre geeks. Can't see the bridge and tunnel types "getting" it.
The premise is, Hedda G wakes up after shooting herself in her play, and she lands in a limbo for famous and compelling characters. Dismayed to find that she can't die the way she desperately wants to, she goes looking for her creator to change the outcome of her life. And Jesus is in it as is Jar Jar Binks and Little Orphan Annie. It's one big theatre in joke.

We went to Habana afterward and ate piles of garlicky Paella and drank Sangria, and had a nice date night. Being poor as mice, we don't go out to eat too often,so Habana was a treat. In fact, and I know this is unbelievable to my close pals, I've become a pretty good cook. Honest! I made homemade spaghetti sauce, the other night and my repetoire includes Arroz con Pollo and Chops. Hard to believe, I know, coming from Take Out girl!

Sam Maloof day

T and I, accompanied Paul Darrow and Miriam Shelton to a groundbreaking for the artist Sam Maloof. Very swanky, lovely and refined sort of party. Sam had In and Out Burgers and Dilly Bars for everyone. Fun to watch the hoi polloi balancing greasy burger treats on their arty laps. Paul and Mim are great artists in their own right. Actually the place was lousy with clever people. It was all classy and all, but it felt funny to be putting Sam in a museum, when he is such a lively funny unpretentious guy.

AND Imagine my delight to find Danny Oberbeck's band "Paddy Doyle's Boots" bekilted and playing outside. What a treat. The guys looked great. They had just decided to get Utilikilts and Doc martens as the new band uniform, so there were many lovely male knees on display. And to my great delight, a huge Santa Ana wind gusted up just as my pal Jim was playing a solo on his fiddle Hee hee! These guys truly rock. Miss them at your own peril!

Kaiser Soze/I feel a song coming on....

Here we are, two lost souls, sitting in the waiting room of Kaiser Permanente. Why does this place have free Wireless internet? HMMM??? $5 per doc appointment, how is that possible?!

Lordy, T has strep throat.... eek. What a bore.. I've been sick-ish for nearly 2 months straight! sigh..Children's performers are always sick. I adore the kiddies, but OY they are lil' ol' petrie dishes!

(next day..) Poor T just toddled off to work. He plays the piano for Mystery Cafe every weekend, and he is off to tinkle the ersatz ivories, chock full of antibiotics, and armed with sanitizing gel for the piano keys. Leaving me to work on our fundraising effort for the AIDS ride.
T and I are performers(duh) and we want to raise funds by doing our cabaret act. We are pretty good, 'f I do say so, and our idea is to take our act to clubs around town, and whatever cover charges or tips we manage to raise go straight to the AIDS ride.
By the bye, anyone out there who could help us put our act in a club.... it's standards, leanings towards the funny side. We are both comedians and I think the charm of what we do really lies in us not taking ourselves too seriously, while being technically quite proficient. T is slated to do some Noel Coward songs for the Laguna Playhouse... nice to think that when you do something well, people are willing to pay you for it. Especially when it's something as ephemeral as performing. So anyway... I THINK we can raise money this way....opinions please?

Mini Pain

My baby on the day he came home...sigh.

I was in a car accident on opening night of Bunnicula over 2 months ago. I am ok but the love of my life, (My car Alfie) has been in the shop since then. I miss that car. He is my pride and joy, and to be honest, the only possesion of any worth that I have in this world. I miss his little joyful toggles, his heated seats, his Ipod hookup that I installed all by me-self....
He was rear ended by a @@#!@%$ Ford Explorer (sorry to be neg. but I LOATHE those nasty ol' SUV's) Little Alf protected us bravely, and kept me and T in one piece, but his lil' bum was squooshed... I just got a message saying he MIGHT be ready next week. What the heck is taking so long? My rental car is a sorry thing. At least I'm getting some money for my trouble... By the way we made our half hour call by the skin of our teeth thanks to a competent cop and the fact that the people WE hit were SCR subscribers. Small world!

Whoops...

This is from Bunnicula at SCR, I am playing a cat.

New year, new squeaky clean self.
Last blog a bit too embarrassing.. hence twas erased.
I am currently living in Laguna Beach, atop a lovely hillside with views of Catalina. It is very relaxing. A trifle TOO relaxing as I am, at heart, a city girl and get restless easily. Luckily I am working at SCR this spring until May, and am also in training for the SF to LA aids ride with m'boy, so there is really very little time to miss the city hustle and bustle.
To date T and I have ridden over 50 miles together and are trying to make that our weekly goal. It's a blast except for a bit of chaffing on my bottom bit from the seat. Last Saturday we rode with his dad all around Newport beaches back bay. Loverly and nature filled, but also wet and stinky. The pile of clothes that I still have to wash from that ride are smelling more and more like soggy goose every day.
Sunday, In spite of T's throaty illness we went to The Glen Ivy Hot Springs and slathered ourselves in mud and wallowed like two happy hippos. On our way home we stopped at Marukai, a Japanese supermarket and had ramen at a place called "Formerly Tampopo's" It's under new management. We had huge bowls of soup and gyoza and chatted about how great it is to have "exotic" food so easy to find. I am a huge fan of Asian cuisines. Give me Dim Sum, or Pho or Sashimi and I am happy as a Maneki Neko. The best Dim Sum place in the world, by the way, is Ocean Seafood in LA's Chinatown, but get there early or they run out of the good stuff...
Today T is resolved to stay in bed and get better. He still has his tonsils, poor duck, and his is an Achille's throat. I mapped out my driving schedule for next week.... oy as grateful as I am for the steady acting works, school tours are hard, "It's WHAT time for calltime!?" Nothing like dragging yourself out of bed before the sun comes up, slapping on makeup and trying to perform with a modicum of style. Luckily the show is very fun and not too taxing. I play Lola Montez. For 4th graders. Huh. Well, I do get a pet bear....
TTFN