Lessons in Love and Epilepsy

Brought to you by last night's insane seizure and today's fabulous nap.


I was just thinking how it's been SO long since my last seizure and even the last one was SO minor I could barely feel it and aren't I becoming the epilepsy poster child? 

Not so much.

Last night was an ass kicking of sorts.

And no one is to blame except for me.  Give me the epilepsy ticket if they are in the Giving Tickets Out sort of mood.  I have been going to sleep at 4am working way too late on my book.  I missed taking my medicine one night which is one night too many when you have seizures.  I had (a beer).  Shh.  Don't tell my dad.  Yes, I think many people with epilepsy drink on occasion but, for me, since I'm not much the drinker it doesn't set well with my brain.  Oh, and there was that half glass of champagne the night before.  And I think I had red wine somewhere on Sunday.

Don't tell my dad ANY of that.  Yes, I know I'm 38.

So, it was the perfect storm and I should have seen it coming when that dog staring out the back of that wagon Volvo at McDonald's locked eyes with me and wouldn't move away.  Dogs know about seizures the way people don't.  He knew even though I thought he was a she but then looked down and saw things hanging that were clearly of the he type.  The dog knew.  It crossed my mind that I knew.  I went about my day and stayed up late again and didn't even think last night could have been MY last night.

It was a big one.  My brain shuddered.  I kept my breathing even.  Did all the things I know to do but then my damn face turned into the pillow Flo-Jo style.  Remember her?  Long nails, Olympic athlete.  Well, without the nails or the running or the cool outfit I was her for a moment and I didn't want my face in a pillow with no ability to move.  I wanted a clear passage to breathe through this seizure until it ended. 

It felt like it would never end.

It did.  I lived.  I quickly fell back asleep out of an exhaustion most cannot imagine.  When I awoke in the morning I did the first post seizure thing I always do - checked to see if I knew what year it is and went through the past presidents.  Clinton's in office, right? Check.  Knew 'em.  Brain still semi-intact.

And then I wept. 

I wept for being alive.  Wept for having my face smothered in a pillow.  Clearly you should know that makes me not a fan of The CSI's.  Wept for almost not living.  Wept for people that don't.  Wept for those that have seizures in the middle of crowds.  Wept for being alone through it and being grateful no one had to go through that scare with me.  And wept that God gave me another day, even if just one more, to be a better me than I was yesterday.

My friend Red sent me a message and wants me to stop using pillows.  My brother said the same.  I've thought about it but I've made a decision.  I'm not going to live a life without pillows.  It's sort of like love, you know?  Yes, a pillow could smother me that one time...that one night but the rest of the time it's so damn comfy and brings great pleasure to my life.  I don't want to live in fear with my head flat on the ground.

And love.  Sure, it could smother me sometimes, too.  That one time and that one night and the one man that breaks the heart might not be worth the pain but I don't want to spend my life without love in fear. I'll still search it out and be open to it and say yes to it.

I decided some time ago to say yes and not to say no to things.  I decided to take adventures and have a YES life.  Is there a chance it could end up bad?  Yup.  I'll take the chance anyway.

Pillow.  Love.  Any of it. 

Much love and gratitude for one more day to love and learn and change and grow and be something better,
Cole

Lessons in Crowds

Brought to you by sparklers and the joy of writing your name with one.

Sunday night and I had two fairly enticing options: go to Pacific Symphony's Firework event at Verizon Wireless Ampitheater or grab a bottle of wine, some very bbq-ish food, sit on the hood of my car and watch fireworks old school.

I did a little of both.  I'm sorta like that.

I like days that don't have much in the way of structure to them.  Come when you want and go when you want and have dinner when you want and eat macaroni and cheese with bacon when you want.  Those sort of days.  Today was one of them.  I finished with a perfectly greasy meal and, it being still light out, figured heading over to the ampitheater might be worth while.

It was. 

So, there was this perfectly lovely event and as it ended there were sudden mad dashes for the exit.  Rather than join the crowd, I sat back and...watched.

There are interesting things to see when you watch the crowd.

The Hand Gesturer.
He's standing in the midst of the crowd and melting down.  Though I do think he's talking to himself as a coping mechanism and I can completely appreciate that.  It's the hand gestures that make me wonder if he's going to pull a machete anytime soon and take out half of Orange County.  Keep thinking of happy, soft places, sir. You're almost out of the crowd.

Look at Me Guy.
He speaks loud enough for half of the crowd to hear him, "I'm SO glad we got the good seats and not the ones 30 rows back.  Aren't YOU?"  He sees me roll my eyes at him and quiets down a bit.  I'm not fond of The Loud having been one in my past life.

The Comedian.
Okay, my favorite.  Mid to late fifties, walking down the stairs and getting in the crowds, always looking for the laugh sort of guy.  He says, "I lost my wife, but that's okay.  If you find her you can have her."  His wife is right behind him rolling HER eyes. 

Sequined Hat Woman.
She's around 84 and is wearing a sequined top hat that has been sat on at least 37 times.  If you saw the way she wore it though you'd smile like I did.  She walks by me and I mention my admiration.  Her response, "It's old but I'm never going to stop wearing it."  When you're 84, the style rules no longer apply to you. 

(Please, please shoot me in the back of the head if I turn into a sequined top hat wearing old woman.  Please.)

No, this wasn't the same crowd as the Sting concert and there weren't waitresses coming by for my drink order and the line for the disabled shuttle was longer than the VIP drink line.  Still, I think the stories this crowd could tell would be richer any day.  At the end of the event, the conductor of the symphony honored the members of the armed forces by playing each of the marches.  As they played you saw young and old stand and reach across aisles to salute and nod at each other.  Nods full of layers.  Nods full of life.  Nods full of sacrifice and struggle and decisions. 

You get to wear a freakin' sequined top hat when you've sacrificed for your country.  And you get to talk to yourself in crowded lines that make you nervous when you've given years in service for our freedom.  And you get to make silly cracks at your wife's expense when you have to leave your country and work overseas.  And you get to talk overly loud.....well, no....you don't get to do that, sir.  You're still too loud. 

A big, sequined, sparkler written thank you.
Cole

Cole's 38 Mitzvah Project: Turned 40!

Brought to you by....you and your brilliant levels of generosity.


The Project continues through the weekend.  Here's the link if you want to read more and participate Cole's 38 Mitzvah Project


Here's what you had to say:

1. Took an extra day for a coworker that had to leave early.
2. Paid for a slurpee the kid behind me in line was going to buy.
3. I paid for the guy behind me at the drive thru at McDonald's the other day.  (don't judge it's my once a week brekky treat)  Brekky being Aussie...we went international, baby!
4. Donated a car.
5. Head of security for a company that is generally mean decided to be nice for one day.  Only one.
6. I forgave a friend who said really hurtful things to me when intoxicated one night.
7. I'm making a meal for my friend who just had a baby.
8. I'm bringing soup and movies to my friend who is bedridden after surgery.
9. I'm making several meals-to-freeze for a friend who is having a baby tomorrow, as well as going over there to do chores next weekend.
10. I'm helping out a teacher friend who is switching classrooms - so much stuff to move in a short amount of time.
11. I bought groceries for a family in need.
12. Making dinner for my sisters family tonight.
13. Helped a lost little boy.
14. Bought a special set of cookie cutters that a family really wanted but couldn't afford and shipped to them.
15. Purchased a significant item for someone to start their business.
16. Let Cole go without a ticket since it was her birthday: Newport Beach Police Department.  (My new favorite police department...this week anyway)
17. I decided some money I had set aside was better spent on someone else's need.  So I decided to help that person.
18. I did something for someone unto you (and Jesus) today..and think the dude was blown away.  Thanks for the idea!
19. I gifted in honor of you today.
20. Handing out lottery tickets randomly today. Happy birthday weekend to @PreMiddleAge for suggesting random acts of kindness. :)
21. Let someone cut in line after waiting 30 minutes which meant I would wait another 30 minutes.
22. Bought breakfast for someone and didn't wait for a thank you.
23. My mitzvah in your honor - I donated $5 in your name to Skip1.org. I skipped a latte for you and donated that money to help underprivileged children in a 3rd world country.
24. Happy Birthday!!! I did cover a coffee for an older gent behind me today at Bucks.  May your evening be wonder-filled and janky-free.
25. Happy Birthday Cousin! Bought the men at the hockey game water in your honor. They're grown ups now so they don't have their mommies reminding them to bring their water bottles. Hope you have had a great day!
26. We brought cookies to a friend who is home on maternity bedrest.
27. I gave money anonymously to a guy who lost his home in a flood here in Texas last week.
28. I bought my sister a refrigerator.
29. I give Gatorade to homeless people.
30. I gave money to a kid going overseas as a missionary.
31. I donated to a charity bike ride by driving my truck doing SAG support for a bike ride instead of participating in order to give back to the cycling community that I have enjoyed.
32. I volunteered at a Women's triathlon (which I admittedly considered a form of speed-dating). (27-32 all being the same gent.  sexy, huh?)
33. Tonight at (a) restaurant I paid for everyone's dinner in honor of your 38 Mitzvahs.
34. A tired mom at target forgot to pay for the wipes in the bottom of her cart.  I added them to my order.  She hugged me saying, "No one is kind!"  That is both the sweetest and saddest thing to hear someone say.
35. Bought lunch for three women that, for various reasons, couldn't be with their dads on Father's Day.
36. Bought a Sprinkles cupcake for a lady in line who was about to meltdown from the wait.  She proceeded to tell me how she helps "The Mexicans", not realizing "A Mexican" bought her an effin cupcake.
37. Someone liked my necklace and I told them to stop by my house and pick up the other one I bought.  Someone else liked it, too, so we went to the store and bought another one. 
38. Gave a grip of drinks to a family sitting at the beach that didn't have any. 
39. Gave a gift card to a woman that couldn't stand me.
40. I forgave my ex-husband for being himself. This was a real milestone that I have been working on for years. your note reminded me that forgiveness is Not a Feeling, it is a Choice. Thanks Cole.

Beautiful ways you have shown love to people. 

Much love from a very warmed birthday almost forty year old but not quite forty year old heart,
Cole

Lessons in Towing and Orgasms

Brought to you by Abdul who also had his car (Range Rover his father bought him) towed.

First of all, never tweet @SvenJohnston and let him know you hope to have more car stories for him soon.  I consider this partially his fault.

Well, and then The Boy gets blame for some of it, too.  I parked the Prius and came inside to change for the evening.  Was planning to go shopping and maybe see a movie or something.  I went into the bedroom and The Boy was on my mind.  I did it.  You know.  It.  Twice.  And really well.  I mean not as well as, well, with..you know, but, good enough to make me lay down for a moment exhausted and not realize that my freaking Prius was outside being towed....

...Mid-Orgasm.

There is something so completely wrong about that.  And so right. Tonight's orgasm cost me $265.00.  Well $265.00 if I can pick it up by 11:59pm. 

Some lessons learned.

1. Yelling in the space where towed car once was will not make it suddenly appear.  Neither will scowling.

2. Today's  event finds in Abbot Kinney make up for tonight.   Think on the good things.  Sometimes there's only a few.  Sometimes only one.  Sometimes only a half.    
3. If you are a person that tends to have car traumas then create an emergency kit.  Include in it: Diet Coke, BBQ Chips, mandm's and one person that will come get your ass in under 10 minutes.
4. Towing of cars is not really a disaster.  Disasters are disasters. 
5. Be kind to the guy who has your car on lockdown.  He gets treated really poorly all the time.  Try to bring out the soft spots in his heart.  Or, just make sure your car gets back to the 'free' side of the gate before you threaten him bodily harm.  I, for one, was very sweet even when he had to pry the debit card from my death grip.
6. For God's sake, keep your phone charged.  There are pictures to take of these moments.
7. When the opportunity arises, practice your Arabic.  I mean, don't ignore people.  The UAE Boys were waiting there in pain with me.  And I don't know if their tow was a result of orgasms or not but in either case, just get to know people.  I used the little Arabic I have and they used their sweet English and we made the most of our waiting.

8. Whatever you do, don't park your car in the Tow and Mo lot. They will even tow you there. Right over the damn fence. Brutal. 
9. Count the stars.  I walked outside to wait my turn for my car.  All of a sudden I heard crickets.  Beautiful almost summer crickets.  And looking up there was a star but not just one, twenty and probably many more if I kept looking and counting.  So many things to see if you get outside your head.  I decided not to focus on what I was losing (money, time, an evening out) but what the night let me gain and it was beautiful.  Really beautiful.
10. Oh, and I guess park underground just in case you're feeling randy. But how do you know til you know. (Geez.)

A very starry, almost summer, cricket-filled love,
Cole

The Twang Invasion

Brought to you by The South.

If you walk by my apartment anytime in the next four to five days, expect to hear yelling and arguments and probably some screaming and the way you'll know you are at the right place?  The Twang.

See, it takes over all of us at some point during the weekend.  Some of us are from the south and some of us have daddies from the south.  Not "daddies".  Daddies.  Dirty Bird, You.

Just prepping for this trip, I can feel the twang starting to form in my throat.  So, yes, expect y'alls and things of that sort.

And so you don't feel left out, I'll let you know who'll be in town.

Miss Larkin.  The ringleader.  Itinerary driven.  Claims to be breezy but...well, isn't.  Always has to fly here because none of us are sure where Arkansas is.

Ally "Red".  Lives in Canada.  Is the only woman we know that will rock a bikini on a public street without covering her ass.  Has two adorable boys.  One she kisses sweet and one she kisses very bad.

Miss Aimee. Our newest hot momma. This was Aimee last time we were all together.  Baby Gavin is now viewing Orange County from the outside with his gorgeous momma and dad.  Aimee is the calm to our storm.

Stacia Rae.  Stacia has over 1,000 pictures to choose from but I think this defines her.  Sassy but sweet at the same time.  She should have a tip jar in front of her everywhere she goes.  Terribly entertaining.

D "Sissy".  Our outings tend to be costly to Davina.  Running out of gas and getting towed and all things Car Trauma.  We are crossing all available parts for good car results this time. 

Miss Blue.  Guest appearances by Chris this weekend as time permits.  (See five children.  Further comments needed?  I think not.)





And me.  You have enough pictures of me.  Don't think I won't take a million more this weekend, y'all.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Shorts: Short Films, Short Stories and Brief Bursts of Loneliness

Brought to you by all things brief.

You should have seen me. I was sitting there, at The Getty, in a corner of this gorgeous patio area tucked as far back as I could tuck, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It wasn’t the way I imagined things. Nope.

You might think I have this adventuring alone thing all figured out. I don’t. Most of the time, I enjoy it tremendously. Most of the time. Saturday, I didn’t at all.

Nope, again.

The nice thing about loneliness is it is short. It’s a feeling and it goes away. And I have an option to sit in it all moping and lost in my PB&J or break free from it by talking to someone at the next table or watching people or just breathing and enjoying the loveliest view.

I didn’t.  I almost had the welling-of-the-tears in my eyes. But my loneliness was short lived. Sitting there with that sandwich The Boyfriend texted, “Miss you.” I sighed that huge heavy sigh when you feel the heart full of being wanted and missed and replied, “I needed that. Feeling a bit lonely. Not so brave today. Miss you.”

Wrapping up my sandwich and finishing my soda and watching all the pairs of people, I picked up my bag and headed into The East Pavilion.

da Vinci helps.  So does Degas.  So does a text telling you you're missed.  That is the best form of art. 

I suppose it was a bit of a theme this week.  Shorts and all.  Short bursts of loneliness and short films at Newport Beach Film Festival and Selected Shorts at The Getty.  I'm liking the briefness of it all. 

Some Short Lessons

Know Your Audience
You know that leftover sinus cough that takes seven years to go away? It should be named after me. If you’re going to cough during a film festival screening, make sure your cough sounds ultra educated and cultured. If there’s any trucker-side-of-the-roadness to it, they will kick your ass.

Partner in Grief
A Shine of Rainbows has so many beautiful, sweet lessons but my heart was tugged by grief and how it shortens when you allow others to experience it with you.

You Can Leave
Yes, you can. If you don’t like a movie, you can quietly leave. Perhaps during a film screening it’s not the best time but if you’re at the theatre and see something that doesn’t impress you, then simply walk out gracefully. Don’t waste another minute in a moment that does not feed your brain or your heart or your innards. Especially your innards.

Hellos Help
I was Friend Dumped twice this weekend. Drinks Friday night and a little outing Saturday. Looking back, it was exactly as it should be and allowed me to experience the painful quiet of not engaging with people. In the middle of Friday night tears, it hit me how many footsteps walk past a homeless man every single day without even a head nod in his direction. That pains me in deep ways. How long must his day be without the engagement of even a stranger.

Fit People In
The Getty did a program of Selected Shorts and one of the stories was, "Things We Knew When the House Caught Fire" by David Drury, read by Keith Szarabajka. Drury’s short delves into a family that completely doesn’t fit into a neighborhood and the neighborhood's attempt to get them out.

We will spend our lives trying to be in and accepted and chosen and picked and on THAT team. How much easier to fit people in ahead of time and not make them do cartwheels to be our friends or fit in our neighborhoods or be part of our group. It’s a quick decision to embrace rather than disgrace people.

My days don't always turn out the way I plan them but they turn out so much better and I'm committed at this ripe old Pre Middle Age to listen and learn and, most importantly, love.

A good night to you but just a short one.  It's late. 
Cole

Lessons From Mom

Brought to you by the number 8.

My mother died on April 22, 2001.   The first year it stung all the time.  The second year it stung on certain days and most major holidays.  Mother's Day was a bitch.  I remember standing in the kitchen while baking a cake and thinking how absurd it was that I was celebrating this holiday when my mom was dead.  After that, it was certain smells, certain sounds and certain memories.  I'm grateful that the passing of time makes great grief less great. 

I didn't know that the first year.  I wish someone had shown me the grief playbook. 

Nine years later.  Today.  And the morning is not full of sobs but laughter with friends.  And work and life and emails and texts and plans for the weekend and all the sorts of things a Thursday should have in it because it's, well, a Thursday and that's what Thursdays do. 

And even though it's a Thursday and not a THURSDAY.  And even though it's the 22nd and not THE 22ND, it still feels right to share some things I learned along the way from my mom.

1. No shortcuts.
As soon as my mom died, I had a really quick sweet dream.  My mom was leaning against a tree and we reached out to say goodbye to each other.  She started to walk down a long path inside a gate and I went to take, yup, a shortcut.  She looked back and pointed in her direction.  I knew then the road would be long but worth it.  I knew taking the easy way wouldn't be any longer.

2. Give when no one is looking.
My mother was a master at this.  She would put a young Latino kid through the fire academy rather than invest in a new car for herself.  She clothed people without fanfare.  She fed them and listened to them and prayed for them and loved them.  And she gave when she was sure no one was looking.

3. Find your sea.
I go to museums because my mother took me to them.  And she went to the sea because her father took her there.  There are many reasons we find our "place" but whatever you do, find it.  Go to it.  Make it your place and make it a refuge.

4. Have Yes Days
We were little, my brother and I, and my mother took us on a Yes Day.  It went horrible.  We went camping at the beach and locked the keys in the trunk of the car and it was not our greatest adventure, but still, it was an adventure.  And, the fact that it stands out to this day, there's something very YES about that.

5. Have a carnival in your backyard.
Rio Lempa Drive in Hacienda Heights was THE place to live.  My mother was a teacher and a really creative one and threw a bad ass carnival which probably speaks to me being an event director now.  So, this carnival had booths and games and I wish I was older and could remember more of it.  I do know that my best friend Audra Dial wore a dress and I had on jeans and wanted to go inside and change but was so glad I didn't since I ended up sliding down the dirt hill at the end of the day. 

Remember, I like being with the boys. 

The point is.  You can do things small or you can have a carnival in your backyard.  Live really big like that, you know? 

6. Something physical.  Something artistic.  Something educational.  Something cultural.
That was the rule.  And I'm not sure she spelled it out as clearly as that all the time but that was the deal.  We had to play an instrument and if we didn't do that then we had to participate in a performing art of some sort.  And the grades had to kick ass.  And then there had to be a sport.  And she brought in the cultural piece on the side with trips and music and such.  I am balanced in my want of these things today because of my mom.

God.  She was pretty cool, huh?

7. Write.  Draw.  Sing.  Act. 
Dance, Little Girl.  And sing, Darling Girl.  And Direct, Sweet Boy.  If these are your dreams then...do them!  My mother was a writer, a very quiet one.  And maybe she never wanted to do anything big with her words but still, she wrote anyway.  A piece for you, well, for us but for you.

November 1984 (written in my Spanish class, recalling the morning)

Mis Ninos -

You are my celebration,

In the early hours

Of my morning

I see you sleeping -

   And I hear a song.

For every day is a gift

And I will

Sound a quiet bell

Light a single candle

And thank my Lord

That you are safe

   And you are here.

-Michele Esperon-Harmonson

Much love to you this April 22, this very sweet April 22,
My mom's daughter

Lessons in Baseball

Brought to you by Milo the Party Bus Limo Shuttle Driver Guy. 

It was a really busy week.  I mentioned that didn't I?  Almost flat tire earlier in the week, huge party that was supposed to be a SORT OF huge party on Wednesday and then this weekend was The Experience.  See, I'm an event director and you know that but sometimes we don't just have parties on site but we take residents off site for little, yah, experiences. 

It's not that terrible of a job to get to go to a Dodger Game, is it?

A couple lessons learned on the third base side:

1. If you tell people to use the restroom before they get on the party bus, they won't. 

2. There's a Chevron off the 5 freeway at Washington with a nice bathroom. 

Eight people can use it really fast.  It helps when you say firmly, "go directly to the restroom, make no purchases, you have four minutes and no more beer until we get to the damn game!"

3. Don't let the obvious stun you. 

It stuns me that a bathroom break is needed from Orange County to Downtown LA.  It shouldn't.  I'll regret saying this once my bladder starts to weaken, won't I?

4. Know your limit.

If you drink so many cans of beer that you get lost in the parking lot, that's too many.

5. There is right and there is wrong.

Doing The Wave has never been, isn't and will never be appropriate.  Snarky Brother with a strong finger point says, "It distracts from the game."  I agree.

6. There is wronger.

See number 5 for beachballs.

7. First everythings are important.

First games are important.  Capture them in picture.  Zed went to his first Dodger game today and was decked out in blue and his parents were Dodger Proud.  They couldn't stop taking pictures and that's exactly how it should be when your baby has a first.  And even if you're a grown up, all pre middle age and all, and having some firsts of your own, you don't have to stop taking pictures either.  Nope, you don't.

8. Having "texters" helps open the closed doors. 

This morning The Boyfriend texted to say good morning and to remind me to wear sunscreen.  I didn't.  I'm rebellious like that.  And Snarky Brother texted to tell me to dress in cool clothing.  As if anything I'd wear wouldn't be cool.  Oh, you know...weather and all.  And having men in my life that give a damn is so damn cool and opens the heart in such an easy way.  Sigh.  I like that very much.  Almost enough to listen to them. 

9. Wait for your pitch. 

Bottom of the eighth and down 1-0.  And then Manny Ramirez comes up to the plate.  And two strikes and he's not freaking out.  Cause you know if it was me and it was the bottom of the eighth inning and all the pressure was on me and I had two strikes I'd be sweating.  No.  He waits for his pitch and it's a homerun and the score is now 2-1.  And we win.  You don't have to play at anyone else's pace.  You can keep your own and you know the pitch that is for you and the one that isn't.  And don't let anyone talk you into swinging at a ball.  You are too smart for that.

10. Work in your passion.

We were walking out of the stadium tonight and I was rounding everyone up and having to use a bit of a mom/julie the cruise director voice when someone said, "I could never do your job!"  You aren't supposed to.  You're supposed to do your job and I'm supposed to do mine and when we're both working in our passions they don't really feel like jobs, do they?  I had the best time today even reminding grown ass adults, "make sure you use the restroom before getting on the shuttle (and drinking another 18 beers)!"

11. Listen

Milo The Party Shuttle Limo Bus Driver had much to say this afternoon.  I happened to be the lucky listener sitting in the front next to him. Now, I'm sure he would have stayed quiet if I had asked but he wanted to talk about travel and history and art and all the things I love so it was fine.  Sometimes, listen.  Don't talk.  Listen.  He didn't really ask anything of me and I could have been anyone really but I nodded and reacted and that made him happy.  All people need sometimes is your ear.  Both of them is even better. 

I came to pick up the tickets for today's game earlier in the week and stopped just beneath the stairs where I once walked with my Pop.  I still remember the ash from his cigarette hitting my arm in a way that wasn't really serious just a memory.  I looked up the stairs and although my Pop is long since gone, all those memories were and still are on those stairs.  Sure, maybe they belong in some stronger form to my brothers since they went to so many more games but I have my firsts, too.  And I'm making new firsts.  Finding new places sometimes and finding old places again in new ways.  And in many ways realizing I weave them together as best I can.  I like the old and the new and don't much plan on choosing one over the other. 

Much love from Chavez Ravine,

Cole

Lessons in a Village

I should have known this morning when my power steering was out...again!  It wasn't the power steering at all.  It was my flat front tire that I drove, oh, shall we say, miles and miles and miles on all day long?  That one.

And then it happened.  I pulled up at Smart and Final to stock up on booze (for a party, hold the judgement) and this lady gave me the dirtiest Orange County look I'd seen since, umm, yesterday.  I rolled down my window to give her one back.  Okay, I didn't.  I rolled down my window to ask what her problem was and she said, "Your tire has like THIS MUCH air in it!"

THIS MUCH meant not so much.  Emphasis on the lower case. 

I drove to Chevron and put air in it as two men watched me.  Ahh, gentlemen.  You must not have sisters or internal organs...that beat.  And then I started madly looking for some auto garage that would still be open at 7:30 at night.

There aren't many in Orange County in case you were wondering. 

I drove halfway to Walmart and then realized it was closed and then called around for the nearest Pep Boys and it was one street over which would have been so easy if I was not a complete moron with directions.  Translation: I ended up back on the freeway headed south when I should have gone north and wasted more of the precious air in my flattening tire.

Grrr.

I learned something this evening.  It takes a village to raise me.  Well, it takes a village for me to get a flat tire unflattened, fixed, normalized, drive worthy. 

Tonight's Village

Walmart Lady That Hung Up On Me

She meant well, really she did.  I called to see if their service department was open and she didn't tell me just transferred me.  I called back one more time and asked in my "firm voice".  She apologized and said they closed 10 minutes ago.

Miss Chloe

I was supposed to be at Taco Tuesday tonight but have an assistant who does amazing play by play via text.  Miss Chloe stayed at the event therefore allowing me to deal with the tire.  I love text.  I hear the event was "omg awesome".

Pep Boys

My heroes.  They took the car.  They found her in urgent need of repair.  They fixed her.  I'm in auto store love with this place. 

Mimi's Cafe

I had to kill time while the car was being fixed and had three choices: Mimi's Cafe, Jack in the Box or stop by the liquor store which happens to be the one that guy owns that held me captive that one night.  Mimi's it is.  The host called me Miss.  I loved him.  My server called me ma'am.  Seven times.  I don't love him. I don't love him at all.  Not even a little.  And he has the worst hair anyone in the world has ever had, well except for that one guy that used to work at WFS that got the plugs and needed the desk fan cause he sweat so much.  Still, I don't love him at all. 

People, Twitter People

You.  You followed along on my adventure.  You commented.  You made snarky remarks and you laughed and you told me other places nearby to eat dinner.  And what that really means is that you, dear friends, cared.  Whether you live close or far, you cared and that is just huge in the hugest way something can be huge. 

The Boy

I didn't need to text him a big, "Help!"  I was okay.  I had someone tell me the tire was flat.  I had someone to fix it.  I had somewhere to go to eat dinner.  I had people to chat with while I waited.  And when I came home he texted after reading the whole adventure, "Oh, baby.  Just seeing car drama.  Wish I could fix.  Sending kisses to my independent super girl."

And that's what I needed as soon as I got home.  I needed, I wanted to be loved on. 

You, you are my community.  All of you.  And sometimes I know you and sometimes you are strangers and sometimes I adore you and sometimes I think you are giving me dirty looks when really, really you are helping me. 

It took a village to raise me tonight.  Huh?  This independent super girl can do much on her own but loves having you all along for the journey. 

Putting my cape away for the night,

Cole

Lessons in Filters

Sitting at Nordstrom Café the other day waiting for my lunch and there is a family of three waiting for their meal. It’s a mom and a grandma and a daughter and the daughter is wearing pink. Of course she is, she’s the daughter and she’s about seven and that’s what seven year old daughters and granddaughters do.

They wear pink.

I wish we could wear more pink. I’m gonna wear more pink. I’ll be the one in Irvine wearing pink this weekend.

So, Sweet Little Girl is sitting there and her grandma starts caressing her long brown locks and SLG SHOUTS out, “you could do that all day because that feels so good and I like that.”

Rare. The SLG Brain is. It says what it feels and what it doesn’t feel and what it likes and what it doesn’t like and shares and gives and shouts and wants and has pleasure and pain and just, well, experiences.

I miss The SLG Brain in all its excess and unfilteredness. I despise having to say all the proper things and the right things and the yes things and the no things and the things people want to hear instead of the things I want to tell them or the things that are deep inside my brain.

Like, “Oh, you could do that all day because that feels good and I like that.”

Or, “I need you.”

Or, “please be my friend because I think you would be a great friend and I promise not to be atrocious on Tuesdays and most Thursdays and only on Fridays.”

Sweet Little Girl Brain. Sweet most of the time. Sharp nearly all of the time. Unfiltered excessively always in the best way.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Compassion Over Content

I suck.  I admit it.  I'm selfish and the world is all about me when it should be all about you, and you, and sometimes, yes, you.  And today was another example of me being the me I don't want to be.

I had lunch at Lola Gaspar in Downtown Santa Ana and went back to my car to check emails and hot, dirty texts (my favorite) and was running madly through the 32 emails that came through from the moment I tasted honeycomb butter with my tortilla til opening the car door when it happened.  It.  You know?  The moment when you realize you are a selfish bastard. 

I looked over not more than ten feet away and a homeless woman was going through a trash bin looking for things that a homeless person looks for to get through their day.  That.  That moment.  That visual should have been the first thing my eyes gravitated to when I arrived at my car.

It wasn't.  That makes me Friday sad and a little pre-sad for Tuesday.  With my limited Spanish which is even rockier when I feel like an ass, I asked her if she would like a jacket as I reached into the trunk of my car. 

She held the jacket up and asked, "Is this for woman?"  I smiled, nodded and realized even when you're homeless, especially when you're homeless you need to have choices when everything else seems so out of control.

Step away from the emails and the work and the head being buried in content over compassion every once in awhile.  I'd venture to say I already had my Friday Happy Hour.

Much love this fine Friday-day,

Cole

Lessons in Art, Adventure, Earthquakes and Eggs

Brought to you by today's 6.9 earthquake which I did not feel on the 405 freeway.  Thank you, Already Fragile Road.

It is Easter Weekend and for some of you that means new dresses and lots of Honey Baked Ham and definitely family and probably family fights if not family tension.  Well, for me, it's Adventure Weekend.  Time to say yes to things and not no to things and see what the weekend holds.  And hopefully, by the end of Sunday, I'll learn a few things that will make me less annoying and a bit cooler. 


1.  An hour at a museum is a massage. 
Well, it might not be a museum that "massages" you and I'm sort of hoping it's not some lady in Garden Grove that takes her robe off before she starts the clock.  What I mean is an hour of creative time is like a massage and will do wonders for your brain and your body.  It might not have a happy ending, well not the kind you're thinking of.  Dirty Bird, You.


2. Driving to and from places is part of The Adventure. 

Remember when mom and dad, umm, when they weren't fighting about taxes or who dad talked to at THAT party or something like that, umm...okay, let's start over.  Remember when mom and dad would tell you to look out the window when you were driving to and fro on vacation and you would see that tall thing that people called ....a tree?  That is part of the adventure.  And even if you're only going from one city or county to the next, you can still look at all the signs and watch the people and slow down at the lights and maybe even pull over and take a couple pictures or write some notes about some interesting colors you see.  See?  I did that today and ran straight into The LA Public Library.  My mom and dad fell in love (and war) in a few places throughout southern california.  The LA Public Library was one and Balboa Beach was another.  And me, just driving slow enough and paying attention enough to cross the street and run into it and stop and notice a couple taking pictures in that very "in love and girl rolling her eyes at her lover" state, well, it was exactly  the way the library should be. 

3. Don't roll your damn eyes at your lover.
Just.  Don't.  You love them.  Get it?  I saw Library Girl standing in front and she looked so hip and her guy was taking her photo and you could tell he was enjoying taking it and she kept eye rolling.  One day, she's going to regret the eye rolls and long for the time when a man that loved her wanted to take her photo.  I know it's a holiday and all, but...Dumb Ass.  That's all.

4. Check your foundation every once in awhile.  Just in case.
So, yah, we had a big earthquake today and if you're not from California you probably cried and that's okay.  We won't judge you. If you're from Callifornia then you froze for a brief moment, assessed the quake and kept Facebooking.  You're cool like that.  I was in downtown la when it happened and noticed a grip of LAFD trucks all over the place and realized they were quickly doing structural checks on some of the buildings.  Sure, maybe everything was okay but still, just check.  And you?  Maybe everything in your relationships, your friendships, your work is okay, but check your foundation in each every once in awhile.  Just to be sure.  Just in case.  You're cool like that.

5. You cannot help what draws you.
Walk into a room.  Just walk. And you'll see it.  It's the one piece that stands out more than the others.  And sure, you could follow in order and go number by number or be one of those sick "tour" people that like structure and do everything by the books and how others tell you to.   You're not everyone else.  You walk into a room and you see what attracts you and you go to it instantly and there is not a thing you can do but enjoy it. 

6. Not every piece is for you. 
Take Lichtenstein for example.  He gives me seizures if I look at his work for more than 34 seconds.  I love the ideas but it's not for me.  And I'm over the idea that I have to look at every single piece and act as if it interests me beyond measure and appear ABSORBED in it.  I'm not absorbed in each piece of art just like I'm not absorbed in each story I read or design I see or song I hear.  Oh, but the ones that get me, now that's a whole different type of seizure.  My brain short circuits in the best way. 

7. The literal insults me in art and feeds me in relationships. 
I'm a little complicated.  I know.  It's been a couple weeks of figuring this out with art but I have trouble with photos that are too clear in their stories or paintings that leave too little to my imagination.  I want a chance to intrepret something for me and my story and for a painting to speak to my heart.  I'm a little selfish that way. 

Don't you dare try that with a relationship.  I need "just the facts."  If you like my ass, tell me.  If you don't, tell me that, too.  (as if......)  If I'm acting like a spoiled brat, tell me.  Be clear.  No ambiguity.  Nothing Rothko about relationships. 

A couple extra weekend lessons for your first full week of April.  Pay attention, Darlings.
1. It is not possible to ever get enough eggs for an egg hunt.  It just isn't. Embrace that.
2. Little Benjamin gave Jordan all his eggs. Jordan gave them all to Ramteen.  Love is fickle.  Age doesn't matter.
3. If you see a woman putting oil in her car or air in her tires and you have a penis, help her to avoid hell.
4. When your girlfriend tells you, with tone, over Moroccan salad that you need to support your boyfriend.  "Support your boyfriend".  And chill.  They know things, Salad Eating Know It All Girlfriends.
5. Talk to people in line.  I wouldn't say annoy them but if they engage you, then engage them.  You might meet some very interesting, giving people and organizations. Orangewood Children's Foundation 
6. There are neat little nooks if you go around the back of tourist spots.  Find them.  Walt Disney Concert Hall
7. Notice who checks on you when there is an earthquake.  Fortunately for me, it was the same person who first wished me a Happy Easter today.  I'm very, very happy about that, and that.

Adventures.  I want them.  I walked into the room with the Rothko's and, go ahead and laugh, it brought tears to my eyes.  It wasn't the paint or the lines or the space but the sheer opportunity to think and to dream which you know I love to do.  And to walk around that corner and have such a surprise like that was the best adventure and gift of the day. 

I want them.  More of them. More corners to walk around and more adventures to say yes to and not no to.  I want to feel things when I turn the corner and take deep breaths and shed tears and live and gasp from experiencing. 

May your week be adventure filled,
Cole

Lessons in Senses

Brought to you by my very tired but perfectly pedicured feet and toes.  I included the toes being that they are attached to my feet.

If you didn't know already by the endless amount of pictures I posted and the endless amount of emotion I expressed, I had a rather big event this past Saturday.  It's over.  My shoulders are returning to their normal relaxed position.  My sleep was not interrupted at five in the morning with thoughts and fears of platforms that needed adjusting and lighting cues and DJs and such.  Once the event ends there is about a week breather and then, well, it's on to the next one. 

There's always a next one and for that, I'm terribly grateful.

The event was new for me.  Sure, it had a big center bar.  My guests require that from me at gunpoint.  And it had sexy music.  This time though, we turned the lawn into a bit of a museum and a bit of performance art and all around the sensory experience was unlimited if you wanted it to be.

So was mine.  Those senses tend to get the best of me.

Lessons in Taste: It takes time to taste food.
The food was amazing and the chef cooking on site went out of his way to make sure I tried the first of everything.  And at the end of the night one of the catering staff set aside a plate for me.  My absolute favorite thing to do once an event ends is to wait for the last person to leave, walk past the wait staff having their cigarettes, take something small to eat and a diet coke and go sit in the middle of the event space and just breathe it all in.

The food tastes so much better when you have time to taste it. Even today, exhausted and barely able to get up to oversee the tent teardown this morning, I came back home to rest and went out for a very late dinner.  Asked for a table in the back and ordered pork chops and mashed potatoes and steamed spinach and took time to not answer calls, to not answer email, to not tweet but to enjoy a very good meal. 

It takes time to taste food.  And doing so in the middle of a gorgeous lit tent sitting on my white museum bench was simply lovely.  And sitting in the back of a restaurant looking back quietly on a great event is even lovelier.

Lessons in Smell: Stay in your moments.
I was going to wear my perfume but I wore his cologne.  Which might end up being mine if I decide to buy it but for now I have this small sample I got so I could smell him when I'm not with him. Groan, such a girl, I know.  And all evening I kept forgetting to reach down to my wrist to breathe him in.  I wanted to have all the important people a part of me that evening. I wore my grandfather's WWII necklace with my mother's name imprinted, my father's worn belt and that damn cologne. 

There are moments to be in rather than waiting for moments.  I should have stopped to smell his cologne.  I would have liked to have remembered that, that night.

Lessons in Hearing: Be honest about what you like to hear.

We were almost finished with set up and ready to start the event when someone went up to one of the artists and said, "You are so talented!  Do you ever get tired of people telling you that?"  She turned around, smiled and said, "No.  I was deprived of admiration as a child so I'll take all I can get."  And then she picked up her brush and kept painting. 

How honest to say 'I like when you compliment me' or 'I like admiration'.  We are so fearful of being honest about our needs for fear of judgement and to witness someone do so with such abandon was attractive.  No wonder she looks 20 years younger than she is.  Hmmmm...

Lessons in Sight: See what you see not what they see.

When MOCA opened years ago, I was very young and my mother stood me in front of Blue and asked me, "What do you see?"  I wanted to move on to the light installation because it had multiple colors and neon lighting and there were all these walls you could run through.  She asked again, "What to you see?"  At the time, I don't think I saw much more than the ocean or the sky but now, oh, now, there are so many stories I see in that same Blue.  I could stand there for hours and tell you layers and layers of what I see and I'm so glad she taught me to see what I see and not to see what she told me to see. 

While we were setting up for yesterday's event, three little girls walked by and wanted to watch the florists designing our art inspired masterpiece.  I asked them, "What do you see?"  And, then, right then it was as if I was my mom standing in MOCA next to these little girls and waiting to see what their new, young, creative, emotional, excited feminine brains would experience and any answer would be right. 

Lessons in Touch: People want to belong and to be loved.
I walked the event over and over last night and saw lots of little groups, not really cliques.  This community is very community-ish and embraces new neighbors rather well.  Still, there are the few that have that hard time moving away from clinging to the cocktail table, getting outside their comfort zone and finding new friends. 

And isn't that what we all want?  Friends.  A place to belong.  Someone to give a damn when we have a cold.  And then hopefully someone to give even more of a damn when things are really bad, like swine flu or a breakup or a breakout? 

It's frequently the case that everyone goes on to the next party and I go home alone.  It's the nature of my role.  I'm coming to accept that.  I don't accept it for the lonely guy standing in the crowd that just needs a handshake or a pat on the back or a touch on the shoulder or someone to say, "you matter."

Well, you matter.  You do. 

At the end of the night, on that museum bench, eating my end of the night plate of appetizers and looking up at my end of the night beautiful lighting that was now lit just for me and staring at those flowers and taking it all in with all of my senses, well, you know.  I cried like a damn baby.

Two of my security guys walked up and asked what was wrong since my head was hung low trying to hide a sensory overload of tears.  I wiped my face with both hands and said, "three months of planning rolling down my face and....I'm a girl."

With abandon, I say it.  Feeling free to experience my feelings I say it and enjoying the touch of the tears on my face I feel it.

Much artistic love to you this fine early Monday.
Cole