These girls, they are my girls. They made me laugh and laugh for one week straight. Here are the better shots of us laughing all the way home…
These girls, they are my girls. They made me laugh and laugh for one week straight. Here are the better shots of us laughing all the way home…
Sunshine. Scrambled eggs. My favorite girls. Tunes in my kitchen. Yoga at the gym. “Oh, we’re subleasing.” Downward facing dog. Triangle. Airplane. Walking home in the sunshine. Packing for the beach. Books, towels, blankets, pizza. Sun. In the car, tunes up, windows down, friends surrounding friends. Busy beach, moving on, quiet beach. Laughing so hard you cry. Sun. Blanket spread, friends arriving. “These are my friends from high school.” Loving getting to say that, over and over again. Explaining how we’re all friends. Running in the water. Video taping it. K, B, and I in the water. Getting tossed out of the ocean by the waves. Bruises from the sea [no, thank you, you are not admitted.] Laying out. Showers on the beach. Wedding on the beach. Reading on the beach. Sleeping on the beach. Bleachers on the beach. Nerf football. Chattering away at each other. Birthday wishes. Sun going down, lifeguards arriving. Young lifeguards. Time to leave. Packing it up, in, and out. Changing, laughing, sun dipping. Pictures. Two cars, four girls, makeup on. Smiles, oohs and ahhs, pictures. Camera on timer, on the car. Friendly passerby shooting our smiles, or glances at the sea, and the helicopter. Dinner. Fancy restaurant, by the sea. Seated, by the kitchen. A bottle of wine. New friends, old friends. Seafood, Alfredo. Mud Pie. Laughing, laughing. Smiles. Stories, long and short. Hugs, mints flavored like sugar, and hugs. Valet cars, and home. Traffic. Life stories, on the streets of LA, through the night, to home. Rent. Rent checks. Back in the car. More life stories, because the traffic in LA is never light, and the load on your heart is never lifted.
Sleep. Wake.
Bikes. Farmer’s market. Is that man dead? No, I think no. Garlic, and so large it is. Peaches, because they are too good to resist. Sunshine on my shoulders, bike grease on my hands. “Do you always get this much stuff” because the bag was so heavy. 5 ears of corn. Ride home, dead man walking, dead man gone. Sun. Home. K and M home, too. Some water, some rest. Clean the kitchen — more guests coming. avocado brie toast. Clean out the cooler. Thank you, K. Onto the Grove, for movies. Missed movie…Crate and Barrel. Wanting to own every piece of furniture. “Where do you send your samples?” and Barbara. Loving everything. Teeny spoon. Too late again, fourth row? A fourth friend. Seated two by two, laughing inappropriate loud throughout — parts funny, and not. Movie over, 6:40. Just like she said.
Home, change, borrow clothes, Corelyn you’re a saint. Pink Taco. For five. At eight. No, for three. At eight thirty. Slowly back to five…friends, stories, epic stories, family trees, timelines. Tahiti. Not going to Tahiti. Ever. It’s a volcano. So many tacos, so good. Sangria, by the pitcher, because we can. Dark atmosphere, light hearts.
Outside. Dark. 10:00. Photographs on the stairs, by the blue wall. Jumping, jumping high fives, band photos. I am the lead singer. Smiles, not smiles, advertisements for who knows what. “Remember when we had a band?” “Oh, you mean Frost?” Because I had forgotten we named it. “Just kiss her.” More photos. Tree lights, Jeff lying on the ground, photos. Mannequins, poses, smiles, laughing. “You know what would be a great shot?” Three cameras. 11:02. Let’s get out of here, Diddy Riese.
Diddy Riese. Short line. Share a sandwich, taste all three. More laughs, more smiles. 11:48. “Would you like to be in our short documentary?” Are you sleep deprived? Yes, right now. Laughs, chats. Snapped Achilles? Interesting story. Visual journalism. So, so nice to meet you, good luck. 12:00. In the car, home. 12:20. Best. Weekend. Ever.
This week Jeff and I had the pleasure of going to Liz and Woody’s for dinner. This is there house. It is all Mexican Hacienda on the outside. Don’t you want to live here?
First, and undocumented, Liz and I had to wrangle all the black widow spiders that had been creeping on her grill. Don’t worry — we got them all. Then, Liz had to start the coals up.
Cleo had to stay in dog jail, because she kept on running into the front yard. Confined to the porch she was…
And now the hot coals are moved to the grill.
This little guy got away from us in the beginning, during the first spider massacre.
Pre-marinaded meat from TJ’s? Yes, please. Liz’s TJ’s has some, ours doesn’t.
Cleo sits nicely with Jeff.
My beer cozy for the night.
Anaheim peppers, to be stuffed. We used Poblanos as well.
Back outside, to check the fire.
Woody arrives home to see our progress.
The coals are to be moved to the grate below, and Woody and Liz accomplish this, in white shirts, nonetheless!
Jeff and Cleo, fixing the Internet.
For stuffing the peppers: rice, queso fresco, taco seasoning, salt, fresh oregano.
Checking the meat…
Stuffing the peppers!
Delicious.
Onto the grill they go.
Mmmm, meaty.
With roasted tortillas? Perfection. I got a little fancy with mine.
Jeff’s more traditional carne asada. With cilantro. Which I stayed away from.
Jennie and Corelyn off to Wardrobe Change # 2.
Question: How many men does it take to light a fire?
Answer: 8 – 6 men, 2 men-fire-dancers-with-gasoline.
clouds at six forty five. no fire pits open. A Christmas Miracle: a fire pit on the often-forgotten RV side of the park. 7:10 and on the beach, emailing. still cloudy. gluten-free granola and yogurt. on the blanket. under the umbrella. with my bff, and a crossword. 7, 8, 9. Three crosswords, cranberry bread. Coffee from our newly purchased 28 ounce Thermos. Cloudy, cloudy. Multiple trips to the clean (but only by Corelyn and Jennie beach-appropriate stance) bathroom. Cannot fall asleep. Quiet ocean. Hanson, The Fray. Inappropriate friend music, because Cor and I can. crazy creek chairs. More coffee. Reading, reading, book club book to be finished. 9:30. “Marco” and 11 am and friends. Sun peaking, peaking. Laying under blankets. Curling up. Now sweatshirts off. Sun peaking, peaking out.Sunshine. Time flying: snacks. chocolate cake. Wardrobe change number 1: bathing suits, cover ups. Sunscreen. 11 to 12. Sandwiches, turkey cheese and lettuce. Cheese-its. Jeff, bike, table, food, cooler. More friends. Snacking, snacking, Scrabble. Travel scrabble. Sun peaked, out and open. sunscreen. Bare legs, blanket spread. Umbrella flying, flying away, and caught. Digging a hole, and reburied. Flying away again, digging a second hole. Stay. put. please. Skipping the Hanson song, new playlist. New iPod. Jay’s, because his music diversifies all. Sunscreen. Scrabble, more friends, twenty strong. Laughing, sunshine, waves huge against the shore. Solar noon, one o’clock. Calls from friends, packing it in, parking miles away. Parking far, along the beach trail, sitting on the beach, waiting for friends. Coolers everywhere, chips, bags of chips. Pretzels. Cousins arriving. Ocean, swimming to the breaking point. “Don’t worry, I’m a certified lifeguard.” Swimming, ocean throwing us back to shore, saying “thank you very much, but I’d rather be alone, today.” Sandy, to the showers. Warm shower, unlike Rocky Neck, warming my body and soul. Back to the blanket fortress. Those are our friends. We bring the party: we bring the funk. Twenty six strong. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Should we grill? Paper plates, reorganization of the table: chips, dessert, coolers. Corn? Who brought the corn? Charcoal ready, orders taken: fifteen hot dogs, fifteen hamburgers, cheese on most burgers, veggie burgers, corn, kabobs. “Last call for the grill” twice, two more burgers, finish off the hot dogs. Bun me. Bun me. Ketchup, mustard, bun me. Lighting the grill twice to cook all that burger, kabobs. “Who wants veggies?” Log cabin fire pit, and seven pm. “Look at all the boys, trying to start the fire!” Wardrobe change number 2. Trouble starting the fire. “Hey, do you need some help starting your fire?” Fire dancers, performing for us, two strong, boom box out. Fire finally, finally started. Grill off, burgers made, everyone full. Sun setting. Catch phrase. “Ponies!” told again. Accusations of conspiracy, and replaced by others to move onto another circle of friends. Lovely, lovely castle girls. Four of us together again. Fire started, moving towards with all friends surrounding me. S’mores, s’more sticks, because Becca rocks. Mallow. Graham. Chocolate. friends. Laughing, smiling, talking. Fireworks on the beach. Fireworks far off, Malibu, Marina del Ray, Santa Monica. Fireworks on the RV park beach. Dockweiler, you crazy thing you. Fireworks everywhere, quiet noise sweeping across the ocean. Some good byes. Laughing, hugging, taking photos. Smell that ocean, smell that fire. Singing patriotic songs, fireworks. Some more good byes. Some more singing, mallows, chocolate. Fire, add the logs…fire. Sing that Smash Mouth, because everyone knows the words. New friends, old friends. Dying down, number minimized to the original group – because we bring the party. Packing up. Hold on, I need my headlamp. Bike to the car, because he can. Breaking down our fort. Headlamp, lantern. Loads to the car. Sand, everywhere. Packing it up, packing it in, packing it home. Friends say good bye, final time that night. Hugs, all around, between us all, more than 30 by the time we were done. See you soon, see you soon, see you tomorrow, see you later, see you at book club, see you at the movies, see you Wednesday, see you when you return, see you when I cook you dinner, please come over soon.
Car. quiet. fireworks about the city. Sleep, tired. Sun, sunburn, sun down, sun gone, good night. Light up the night sky, say goodbye. sleep.