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

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 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 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