Springtime in Mich

Springtime in Mich
Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

March 21st marks the first day of spring. To celebrate I hopped on the red eye to Detroit and was greeted by a blanket of beautiful snow and an army of frozen planes. Its so good to be back in the midwest amongst the indoor animal hair and damp cold.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

During a recent self-guided tour of the Texas state capital (in Austin for those of you who failed geography or fail to recognize Texas as part of the United States of America) my camera leapt out of my hands and fell to the ground. I knew something was different when I salvaged my little lumix off the laminate tile. The strong spirit of conservatism had excised the black spot demon. It hasn't appeared in a photo since!

Desert wildlife: talons, paws, and claws.

Poppies.

As I look into the future I see a sky full of possibility and a land full of hope and poppies. It's the desert wildflower season and our hunt started last weekend in Joshua Tree National Park. It was going to start in Antelope Valley but I got freaked out about a snow warning in Palmdale. The boys brought a football to prove that they were there for sport and not delicate seasonal flowers. There weren't many places in JT to toss around a football unless you wanted to spike up your shoes with cactus prickles so we had to save the pigskin for an elementary school palyground near the In and Out Burger in Indio. Besides my jammed finger and B taking a hit to the face, it all worked out.

I take back all the complaining I did about the rain this winter - the desert was as green as I have ever seen it. There was an area rug the size of, the whole desert, which would make it a carpet, of fine green non-mossy-moss and little precious yellow and purple flowers were everywhere. The gentle landscape was offset by the sight of a giant hawk/falcon gutting out a bunny rabbitt. That is the kind of totally tuff stuff that inspires spontanious songwriting. I expect to have our hit single "Hawk with a Rabbit" up in a few days.

These cacti make me weepy.

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We were greeted at the Alamo by six bizzllion tourists and scads of era-wearing reenactors. It just so happens that this weekend is a special "Remember the Alamo" weekend. People love an excuse to fire an old time canon for real.

Am I the only one that thought the Alamo was in the middle of the desert? It isn't. It is actually in the middle of San Antonio. I'm not an idiot. I think the website for the Alamo is deceiving. Report back to me if you disagree. SA is a great city but we got suckered into the river walk which probably would be fine on an average day but during Remember the Alamo weekend it was like walking around Universal Studios only there was a serious danger potential since the river walk is completely rebel-texas-style: no railing or ropes. I thought I was going to get knocked in the river by a stroller. Dirty water. Dirty water.

We leave tomorrow. I am so tired and I think I have a head cold. There are many questions I still have about Texas and I am afraid they will go unanswered. Like where does the term "Lone Star" really come from? Wikipedia tells me that it comes from the state flag but that isn't a satisfying answer now is it? I want to hear a story about a cowboy being lost and pregnant and not having a place to stay and being guided by a single star to a stable or something.

And the other pressing question I have is: are people allowed to bail out on the highway if the traffic gets too bad or is Texas just full of automobile outlaws? We saw tons of people crossing over grass and dirt to reach an exit ramp when the going got tuff. I'd love to adopt this technique in cali.

In case you need up to date cellphonephoto documentation - you can visit my tumblr site.

It's dry and windier than a skydiving simulator here in Austin. Please send hand lotion.

There is a lot of hustle and bustle downtown. I have never lived in a city where the downtown area was bumpin at night. It's like East Lansing under a Texas flag canopy here. Better dressed fellas though. I like tall skinny bored/disinterested looking men and I prefer to live in places where going downtown at night is more of a dare and best done on bikes or acid or the power of love.

Our hotel is presh. We got here early and went to a taco place two blocks from the motel. The first person I saw when I walked in was Luke Wilson. The second person I saw was an unknown bearded man. The film and interactive parts of South by Southwest are underway. So we celebrated by napping for two hours. I talked L into checking out a screening of The Upsetter at The Alamo Ritz Theater. Interesting venue. L loved it because each row of theater seats has a skinny bar table and you can order food and drinks from the comfort of your theater chairs. Our waitress was slightly unreasonable though. She didn't like my witty comparisons of 7-up and Sprite and she told us that we had to move a seat closer to the couple next to us because it was going to be a packed house. It didn't get that packed and I ended up sitting next to someone that ate garlic pizza and giggled every time they showed pot in the film and some bald euro dude set up shop right next to L: shoes off, backpack in our old seat. We got salads.

Yeah salads. Just a ridiculous choice for watching a movie. I had to put the thing in my lap and lean to one side so the Exit sign could illuminate the feta and olives. I gave up after awhile and set thing on the bar table in front of me and had to smell the rings of red onions for the rest of the movie. But it was a surprisingly enhancing experience. Smellovision.

Tomorrow we go to the Alamo. I'm going to bring chili cheese fritos.

There are a few signs that you come across in your life that let you know you are on the right path. One of them is getting back to your hotel room to find that 'You Got Served' is on the USA channel.

A few weeks before the national sales meeting the HR or the marketing department or the activities committee sent out an email saying that it was mandatory that we send in a picture of us with our families. And if we didn't have a family yet, it said, that we could send in a picture of us with our pet. So I was at a total loss. I wish I would have just photoshopped myself into a Kohls ad and sent it in but those kinds of creative things don't occur to me whenever the corporate forcefield is involved. So I just sent in a pic of me in Dodger Stadium and another of me holding a hundred and fifty bucks in poker chips in a casino bathroom. That's probably less money than Leslie from corporate accounts spends on her cocker spaniel. I wonder which one they will chose. Thanks for the snap Miss J.

Today so far has been very exciting because they are really pulling out all the stops. Gratuitous use of injured children, frequent mentioning of Martin Luther King Jr (an often used public icon in the corporate world, probably because he was such a good capitalist?) and lots of talk about overcoming obstacles and challenges. I'm very cranky. I just opened the twenty dollar half-bottle of wine in the mini bar. I've been texting my friends that it all sucks and everyone (except B) is like "at least it's the last...blah blah blah."

Look, no one has ever, in history of all complaining, whining, bitching, venting, and sharing, no one has ever been comforted or renewed or satisfied by someone saying "AT LEAST....something something something bright side something." Unless of course they say something like, "at least we got to orbit the earth once," or "at least they will never find the body."

As a friend you have a responsibility to commiserate. So if you get a text from me complaining about how awful my free spa facial was, I expect you to just respond with something like, "I can't imagine how you are surviving, that sounds terrible!!"

National Sales Meeting

I'm heating dirty hotel fruit in Austin. I'm eating the dirty fruit from from the hotel in Austin.

They come into our rooms while we are in meetings to leave 'gifts' like sweatshirts with the company logo and a can of red bull. This makes some people happy. It makes me suspicious.

This morning we had to report in the hotel lobby at 615 am wearing the company logo sweatshirt. The escorted us outside in the dawn freeze and we waited until five guys dressed like (deer-skin-mocassin-style) indians came out to perform a sundance. Then a larger man dressed like an important indian came out. Judging by his headdress I would say he was 'The Chief.' He talked about the four elements and the talking stick and how togetherness will bring our company into a new dimension.

Hmmmm. If you are uncomfortable or confused reading this you are no further along than I am.

Words overused at corporate meetings: change, growth, opportunity, and most of all 'challenge'

If everything were feathered.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

It's overcasty and raining in Phoenix. Go figure. Rain can even visit the desert from time to time. I think it's just mother nature's way of telling me that I do indeed have a packing problem. Radically inclusive is a writing technique and not recommended for application in areas of packing or travel. For ventures away from home one needs a sharp focus and an appreciation of the freedom that brings. Worry about only your next meal and let everything else fall away.

My sharp focus made me forget all about the lunar eclipse last night. B tried to remind me but I was sincerely focused on not checking my phone. I bet it was fun to watch the moon dissapear. Of course I can always recreate the same thing in Aftereffects or outside with a sheet of construction paper but there is something to be said for an authentic eclipse. Again, I wouldn't know for sure since I didn't see it.

I think I might be the first person to say this but, teens have no respect.

They also are oblivious to the standard rules of the Library. I am listening to some full-volume-idiotic cell phone conversation right now. It's bleeding through my new Philips noise cancelling earbuds. I'd kick some A** but I am afraid of groups of teens. Alone they are weak and insecure but together they form a powerful superconductor that translates insecure energies into supersonic interference.

Yesterday I spent nine hours at the Los Angeles Athletic Club for the group fitness certification.
As an aside, if anyone is interested in helping me bring my dream of air guitar aerobics to the world, I am looking for investors. I was stoked that it was at the LAAC because I have been dying to see the inside of it but never had the pocket change to pay for the parking garage or the gumption to finagle a tour. The place has some excellent photos of strong men in unitards holding dumbbells, the kind of dumbbells men used before interchangeable weights.

They throw a hundred wanna-be aerobics instructors in the gymnasium (the same one many famous athletes trained in. Many of them probably from my favorite historical moment, the 84 Olympics) This is the kind of gym that has a track above it so the gym members that were there for a Sunday workout were treated to watching 100 ladies and three men practice warm-up and cardio choreography.

For the final test you have to perform a three minute warm-up routine, a four minute cardio routine, and a one minute cool-down. Here is the kicker: everybody, all one hundred plus, is divided into three groups and sectioned off in the same gymnasium. And everyone has to do their routine at the same time. No one is leading. It’s just mayhem. So picture three sets of 35 people doing their own aerobics thing (not just dancing, that would be like a rave) to some really crappy techno music while the towel guy and some older dudes from the LAAC look on from the top track. After that part is over the examiners shout, “now show me a strength exercises for the gluteus maximus, now one for the rhomboid….” And everyone has to simulate movements like they are holding weights or resistance bands.

It was probably one of the most amazing things I have participated in in a long time (and that saying a lot since the day before I had just participated in the shoot for the second episode of TBABC). I wish I could have videotaped the exam part. Framed just so, the whole ordeal would have looked like a perverse internment camp activity. Now I am going to have to go to all the trouble of getting back into the class just for videotaping purposes. I need some more material for my upcoming short film titled “Towel Boy and Group Girl.”

Railroad Depot

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

I now have a special black orb on all of my digital photos. Even after scrubbing my camera lens with my scarf, some paper towel, and the bottom of my forever 21 t-shirt, the orb was still there. It's on all of my pictures now. It's very noticable when you see all the pics lined up side by side.

It's a dark spirit circle trapped in my camera. My friend N says to send it away to panasonic but what will I do in the meantime? What if the orb follows me around? I can't imagine going a day without my dig. I think it's a censor, I mean sensor problem. Maybe the orb will be my trademark.

At the gym that I go to the fitness classes are sectioned off by a clear wall so you can see all the people working out on the stairclimbers and treadmills behind you while you are in aerobics class. My spin instructor likes to make fun of people who are using the equipment wrong. I also think she plays illegal music. It's totally lawless an irresponsible. I have begun to model my life after her.

I feel pretty good writing about my silly camera problems before even mentioning the fact that a huge building that housed one of my friends and about who knows how many other people and a rad independent record store burnt down in Detroit today. I think it is something so crappy that I prefer to just bury it away. I feel totally helpless not being able to do anything for her. I can't imagine what it is like to have your home and all your stuff burned up.

Pear Blossom Winter

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Ever drive from Victorville to Palmdale on the Pear Blossom Highway?

It's just Glendale

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Saving Lives

So this week I did my part as a super citizen and future aerobics instructor and went and got myself CPR certified at the local Red Cross chapter. This event was frightening and enlightening.

First of all, did you know that many people successfully perform CPR from just what they see on TV? On shows like House, ER, and CSI? That's one of the first tidbits the instructor told us at the beginning of the four and a half hour course. If I hadn't have already paid my 42 bucks, I would have raced home and checked my VHS collection for some old Clooney ER episodes and just forgot about spending four and a half hours in a room full or randoms.

When I say randoms I mean myself, one larger bearded lady, two loudmouth personal trainers wearing blue track suits, one guy from Cal-OSHA and a roomful of Armenian, only half English speaking, women getting certified to work in childcare.

For class demonstrations the instructor used the one guy as the victim and the large lady as the rescuer (it was her fifth year renewing the certification). There is just something so uncomfortable about watching strangers touch each other in a non-emergency and non-errotic situation. Yeah, so I'd never be a nurse. I think I had really low blood sugar because I felt, for most of the class, like passing out. It's likely that I would have been saved but, I wasn't so sure at the time.

The Armenian ladies paired up so that one of them would translate to the other while the instructor read over the booklet and played the instructional (and well-acted I must say) videos. They did this throughout the whole class, most of them at full volume. I was worried because the instructor could not have possibly be monitoring if the correct safety information was being translated.

This became very clear when they broke the mannequins out at the end of the class. If I wouldn't have had my own certification looming over my head, I would have performed a citizens arrest on at least three of the women for what they were doing to the mannequins. They were wrapping the mouth guards all over the face and neck and laying on top of the plastic half bodies, all in an effort to perform CPR. The loudmouth know-it-all personal trainer kept going ahead of the instructor and she was screaming to her partner, "30 compressions! 2 Beaths!" It was complete mayhem. I was getting so frustrated for the instructor but it also angered me that she didn't know her own power. She could kick all these people out, they could go home and watch ER and hope that practicing on a teddy bear will give them the skills to save the lives of people they love. INstead she just plowed through the instructions and we all, in our own special way, completed the practical part of the training.

In the end, we all read the written test out loud and got 100% of the answers right. Strong as a group. We all came as different people, but we all left CPR certified.

Money can buy you anything! California is so accepting that you don't have to put your blow-up girlfriends in the trunk when you go to the grocer.

Today I dropped my phone in the toilet, saw a lexus with a mannequin in the passenger seat parked behind anthropology in Pasadena, and I got a new ipod.

It was really a day of firsts. I've never dropped my phone in the toilet before but I have made fun of people for doing it. Nor have I ever actually seen someone with a mannequin in their car, who hasn't thought about doing that for the HOV lane? But I would think that you would trunk it for public parking situations. The other first today is the ipod. I never ever had one before, well N gave me a hand me down that broke a few months ago. Mine is so cute. I can watch an entire episode of Gossip Girl on a two inch screen.

I fixed my blackberry by letting it sit in a bowl of rice. The chick at the verizon store told me to do this. I asked her if it mattered if I only had minute rice and she said it did and that I should just put it in a bowl of white rice. So I went home and empitied the rest of a half box of brown minute rice over my phone and put it in the oven for 40 minutes at 350 and now I am back in action. Feel free to email or text me between civil twilight and radical dawn.

Place: Kyles.
Purpose: Top secret pilot shoot

Rod doesn't like flash photography when the camera is rolling so there isn't much to do but write my thoughts. I've learned a lot today dressed like Ally Sheedy from the breakfast club. Now I know what it is like to be an outsider. A pre-goth outsider with dark feelings that nobody understands. Someone that shows up without invitation. Someone that is unliked, even considered weird. Until today I had no idea how it felt. Thanks guys for opening my mind.

You wouldn't believe how the Sheedy BFast Club uniform (baggy black sweater, giant skirt, dark tights, black chucks) still works amongst the WBN (why be normal) underground. K and I walked to starbucks between scenes for some fresh air and fresh joe. We'd only been there for three minutes when a young dude wearing suspenders and a hat (fedora? Reporters? Ducky?) Started in with me.
'Haha sometimes I think the best part about coffee is mixing the stuff in after'
'Me niether'
'I like it more than drinking coffee.'
'Go away'
'It's like ooooh what will happen if I put in four sugar packs?'
'It tastes like throw up'

Anyway. I think I've found my fashion message. My brand. My story.

My hot water heater broke and I had to shower at the gym today. I now think that I didn't really get all the shampoo out of my hair because my head feels odd, and I'm not just talking about my insane headache. Maybe it was just a problem with the shampoo supplied at my gym - it was for dry hair. I don't have dry hair. I have fine, bouncy, lively hair. It's not moist or anything but it sure isn't dry. Before you feel too bad for me showering at the gym, you should know that I belong to a fancy one. It's got a spa attached to it and those don't get attached to or affiliated with just any ol' place.

Last night A and I went to see "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" and uh, its really good. Besides how Schnabel pulled off the POV shots, which make up most of the movie, the repetition of the special alphabet makes for an oddly engaging soundtrack. The kind of thing where you begin to anticipate the next sound. Like listening to shoegazer rock. It's really awesome.

I just reminded myself that I meant to make it my New Years resolution to stop using the word awesome to describe things.

Ruined Blow Out

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

There are things I start to ask myself after an extended stay in Michigan. One of those questions is, "How many times can I watch 'The Departed' on cable tv?" And another is "How did I ever drive in snow before?" And another is "When did my mom stop complaining about the toilet seat being left up?" Because that rule is being broken like crazy around here. People just don't care. Manners aren't important anymore, common courtosey is up for debate. I am the only civilized person in mid-michigan now and I leave tomorrow. Good luck people.

New Years was fun. We had dinner at Sweet Georgia Brown's which had crappy service but a nice atmosphere and a frightened chubby keyboardist and then to LJs which had low-budget drinks and free party hats. Can't complain - even the heavy indoor smoking added a little character and a scent my coat and I will remember forever. It was a hard evening to plan at first because everyone kept saying 'I don't want to do anything too crazy' as if saying that would prevent a spontaneous rave from happening. It's good that we settled up on the crazy ahead of time because it got real snowy and if we had decided to get a helicopter we would have been grounded on Belle Isle for hours.

I hope we all get what we want in 2008 (especially the Dodgers) A new car for E, a new job for N, Mo money for all and less work and more fishing for me.

I resolve to return library books on time and to go to the racetrack and movies more, and the doctors office and bills liquor less. What about the rest of you?

In Michigan again. This time, as C says, there wasn't enough build up. Not enough daydreaming and wanderlusting and romanticising for the midwest. Instead my arrival was met with the midwest mediocrity that on a cheery day I would describe as modesty. Christmas was full of treats made from hersheys kisses, gifts from outlet malls, and general middle-of-the-road cheer.

Although they were at the top of my list, I didn't get any books so I had to grab something from my old stack of 'to-read classics' and the only one I had left to read is Miller's Tropic of Cancer. The bustle in the kitchen from my mom making another dream dinner and my dad and sister chatting about renting a movie is just such a great soundtrack to the read.

Change my ticket or finish the novel?

Through the doorway

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

This is the light coming through my 'front door' peephole. Lately I have been sitting on the floor propped up against the door just watching the little rainbow light circle - just waiting for it to go dark so I will know there is a visitor.

I don't really do that but I can tell you that today I went out to eat instead of cooking again. I went to a subway sandwich shop and I heard the guy in front of me ask if there was a tax difference if he dined in or took his food to go. I also heard a lady order an oatmeal raisin cookie and demand that the sandwich artist pick the one that had the least raisins. The woman worked for LDWP and was wearing shorts and one of those giant leg braces. I didn't lose my appetite though.

Too much to do. But I don't want to forget to write about this.

A droll and sagacious rundown of GRE words

I have forgotten how to live without chicanery. I’ve been in LA too long. I blame it on the coterie of contumacious lassies I have been running with. It doesn’t help that this sinecure of mine was once only a diurnal operation and has now turned into an onerous night menace.

No Laundrymat for Young Women.

Yesterday I went to the early evening show of "No Country For Old Men." I sat next to a few other solo theater goers. After it was over one of em, a chick that chewed her popcron with relative refinement, leans over and says "sheeewee - I'm going to have trouble sleeping tonight."

"Oh, I was prepared," I say. "I read the book." What the sam hell that means I don't know but thank goodness that most of what I say to strangers and store help never gets recorded unless I use it as an anecdote.

I spent the rest of the night running errands in a dreamy terrified state. The guy at Trader Joe's asked me how I was doing and I was like "what do you need to know that for?" and no I don't want any change. I would not recommend doing laundry in a public place after seeing that movie either unless you don't use quarters. Every time I put a new one in the dryer I kept thinking, "this coin got here the same way I did..." It's just stupid. This light grip on reality that I have.

Anyway. I Love Super Beautiful meets tonight. We'll see what kind of crap we can come up with using a book on story structure and four bottles of pumpkin ale.

Does anyone else have cold ankles?

Turkey neck.

It's around twenty degrees outside. My bones are soaked, chilled, and rattling and worse -my only internet hook-up is this blackberry. This demonic device that reminds me of the job waiting for me when I get back to LA. But i just want to forget that.

It's easy to forget what a house full of siblings sounds like. Or what a town in the thick of deer season looks like. Or what sleet turning to snow feels like. Or what free food from parents fridge tastes like. But it's all coming back to me.

The mechanics in town that gave my sister an oil change and free tire rotation wore carharts and seemed kind of preoccupied. My dad has thrown some safetyblaze orange accessories into his daily running outfit. Don't want em to mistake ya for a buck.

Last night Em and Tdog and I were in royal oak and ran across a half chopped deer hanging by its hind quarters. I got a couple shots of it before one of the hunters came out and asked if we wanted to take pictures of the carcass. Well when you put it that way - who can resist? The dude told us that this was his last deer because he was getting old and it just wasn't the same. I'm not the same guy I was. You change, you get older. He told us while he waived his filet knife around.

I'm just glad mama doesn't have to kill a turkey for tomorrow. We already picked up the pre-plucked bird at Sav-on foods tonight.there has been enough violence around here. Mostly emotional voilence for me though, i can't handle the bittersweet visits with my old pals and old stomping grounds. But like the weather, i really need to dry up.

It's a Sin

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

This is my taxi driver leaning over and whispering who knows what to a hardworking woman who was just trying to check his tire pressure.

I would like to be a mexican cab driver and make my own lanes and drive in a spirited manner. I won't be able to for another week or so though because my hand is injured. I cut it on an unknown object hiding in the back seat crevices. That's what I get for trying to find a seat belt. I hadn't even been looking for the thing for thirty seconds when the cab, a well broken in midsized station wagon, got pulled over by the cops.

My driver chuckled. Chuckled and then grabbed a wad of pesos from his shirt pocket and walked behind the car. I had no idea what the f was so funny since all I could think about was me, my problems, my unattended luggage, and my plane boarding. He spoke with the cop for all of twenty seconds and came back before I found the seatbelt but right after I cut my hand.

"A hundred pesos," he tells me, "ticket is about sixty dollars." I was getting used to this pesos/dollars interchangeability so I understood what he was saying - he paid the cop ten bucks to get out of paying sixty - I just didn't want him to tack it onto my bill - I wanted to be consulted for all bribery pay outs.

I probably would have been consulted if my spanish wasn't so bad. The driver was kind enough to hold a conversation with me made entirely up of names of cities and tourist attractions. What else do you really need to talk about anyway when the road is before you always?

Eve of all souls

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These italians..

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cut in line in front of us at the coffee shop.

E forgot her luggage in the hotel lobby. What a goofball. This place has turned into a madhouse because there is some kind of triathlon going on right across the street so the roads, which are normally wacked anyway, are now backed up for miles. So I had to roll out her luggage to a certain meeting point so she could avoid any more unnecessary returnos.

I will get to the good stuff of my trip later when I get home and can supplement with photos but for now I just want to express my disappointment that I couldn't post to my Tumblr blog from my cell phone. Apparently the customer service at Verizon is full of bald faced liars that actively ruin the lives of other people.

XOXO

Pumpkin

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Activities for K's send-off continue. Coffee with a late dinner is dangerous. It's nothing like the typical coked out Mondays of most Los Angeles residents but it's enough to keep a convo going for a coupla hours past the valets shift.

The night ended with a cup of coffee that went cold. The food at the Dresden Room tastes like you'd think. The place smells like the inside of a wig and looks like the fanciest food joint ever presented in a Bogart flick. The waiter advised K against pork chops because the guy who usually cooks a good chop wasn't working tonight. The other guy was on. "What else should we have?" "What's good?" we asked. He tells us, "Everything else is good." Imagine a chef whose only failure is the pork chop and you can imagine the Dresden.

All this coffee and wind and earthquakin has syncopated my circadian rhythm. I think I have been suffering from an elevated perceived predation risk for sometime. Staying up late waiting for earthquakes and text messages has caused me to adopt the same sleeping schedule I had in 1996. Syncopated, for those of you that don't know, is stress on a normally unstressed beat. Dig that. And dig this.

Other things I have been digging are this, this, and this.

The Riv

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

My favorite old fashioned cooking ingredient is gelatin. Second to that would be dried fruits. I never appreciated my mother putting rasins in everything and now, well I still think it's gross but I get it.

We spent the evening at the local sports bar in the same spot we have secured for the past three games. I like it there even though everyone was a boston fan - but who isn't? Ever since that Jimmy Fallon movie...

I had big plans to stay up until after the earthquake tonight. I just can't handle being awoken -awoke -wakened - by a rumbling bed and bookcase and it happened again last night.

I was so pleased that I can get the USGS quake update live map on my blackberry because me internet has really been shit lately. It's running at dial-up speeds. I was on hold with Time Warner for 30 minutes before a young man with a mouth full of shredded wheat tried to help me. I was cranky and kept barking at him 'I can't even understand what you are saying?! Peanut butter mouthroof!'

Tomorrow is garbage day, the only day worse than street cleaning day for finding parking.

Apples where you pee.

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Oak Glen turned out to be a true tourist heaven.

Cranky

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Fall is right over here.

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Originally uploaded by kaky pants.

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Originally uploaded by kaky pants.

I stole some pics from K's flickr account. I have buckets from our visit to the stadium but I am saving them for when I have a chance to give a travel slideshow presentation at The Traveler Bookstore in WeHo. It is no accident that it rained the night before we went. It only rains on special occasions here. Last time it rained I got a new car.

This weekend so far has been tiring and invigorating. I have been working on several projects. Writing, photographing, helping (via mental projection) the Dodgers plan for their 50th anniversary here in the wild west, and recovering from the unidentifiable pain caused by my phantom breakup with my ambivalent lover. Hectic.

Fall is the time of year when all the easties around here pine away for the homeland. I priced out how much it would cost to immediately move my belongings back to Michigan in time to take the Detroit River fall color tour with my grandmother. A couple grand seems like a value. But there is no price I would pay to abandon my weather project. Talk about real value. Instead, I am off to find a cider mill. I heard there are some in the midst of all these palm trees around here.

she wouldn't shut up about baseball!

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Originally uploaded by kaky pants.

I wish I would have known this information was at my fingertips all season:

PLAYERS SONGS

Who lives in New York and wants to give this fine, talented lady a job?

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Jamie's stove has an electric problem and if you touch it you will get a terrible shock. She was so tired from a long day of work that she put her six-pack of beer on top of the range and had to use Bethany's boots as a grounding mechanism to transfer the beer to a safe cold place. She is brave. It all worked out in the end and we spent the evening doing productive things like Exquisite Corpse Poetry.

I am terribly sick with a monstrous headcold and yesterday my laptop crashed. I dug up an old Dell Inspiron to do my writin' on. It weighs probably fifteen pounds and can only connect to the internet via a handcrank and RCA cable.

I'm supposed to be working on a locally based newsy travel article but I can't think of any other news than I am sick. Los Angeles makes people terribly selfish. Wait, there I have it - my article. That's not really news though.

New Mexico Cloud as Seen From Sunport

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

The Albuquerque airport has an excellent skylounge. You don't need to be part of the Admirals Club or anything like that to get in. I'm sitting on an adobe inspired chair looking at an American Airlines jet to the sounds of a little mophead carpet monster screaming about what gate they are leaving from. The kid is stoked beyond repair about getting on a plane. I share his enthusiasm but I don't have the energy to express it.

Operation puppy delivery went without so much as a bump. The fluffball did do a bit of whining during take off but it was mostly offset by screaming children. Children and airports are a combination much like baking soda and vinegar. Very cool for things like enthusiasm and science experiements and very bad for others like peace and quiet and douches. And that is the wisdom I will depart in this sweet missive. Looking forward to getting back to LA.

Testing

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

As you can see, the results of my testing clearly show I am highly allergic to dogs.

Cultural sounds abound. I am in the Glendale library trying to type to the mellow sounds of a whispering female Armenian accent. Sounds like a girly choo-choo train recording slowed to 13rpms. I stopped in the bathroom on the way in and a middle school age Asian girl in a navy short skirt private school uniform was practicing singing “I get weak” by SWV. That is Sisters With Voices for those of you that weren’t at the Arts, Beats, and Eats in Pontiac, 1992. And now that I have my headphones plugged in, Vivaldi’s four seasons is on the classical radio station and it’s still spring even though it’s fall.

If you can, drop your pants and go see "The Assassination of Jesse James by soandso..." It's worth full price admission to the Arclight. I like westerns that take place in the cold west, like "McCabe and Mrs. Miller." This one is more sparse. I especially enjoyed the use of white space, eye color, and diagetic sound.

I went to a birthday party last night at The Griffin or Griffith. It's new and it's in Atwater Village. I am astounded every time I go out on that side of AV, which is less than three quarters of a mile from my side on Glendale Blvd, how many rockabilly people are out and about. Where do you all live? I don't see you at Von's. The birthday party was extra special because it was a milestone birthday - the big three OH. Parting gifts were framed photos of the birthday boy in other milestone moments. The one I got was of him recycling.

I can't stop my visual media fest today long enough to write about much else. I have to catch part of the new Ken Burns deal. I am susceptible to hypnosis by slow pans of black and white photographs so it wouldn't be a wild deal if I ended up giving 14 hours this week to see the whole thing.

I'm writing this from the Ritz in Marina Del Ray. It's so nice to be on the west side watching 'Ratatoui'and drinking some Pino. The pino is in honor of the dear departed B who left LA a few weeks ago for the east side. I don't know how people can leave this place after getting a taste of paradise but she insists that not having to drive everywhere is a luxury. Sounds like just another line we say out loud to ourselves to convince ourselves of things that deep down we feel need convincing.

I think public transpo is a big robbery haven. A claustrophobic tube where you just sit waiting to get picked off by the crazed armed unlawful citizens of the world. I believe we should all be transported by hayrides. A sensible low-emissions tractor pulling a wooden trailer full of hay and people. It's out in the open, natural, and fresh. Isn't that what we really want?

White Bag After Labor Day

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

My mini bottle of lotion exploded on the plane. That is my punishment for not declaring it as a liquid at airport security.

I went to Wisconsin looking for love and I found all these mushrooms. They remind me of the kind of polyester stuff I used to freak to find at thrift stores. Coffee and flour canisters, macrame wall hangings, and crusty half used hippy candles.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

It has been a short while since I last updated what I was hoping would be a great travel and adventure blog. Although my summer has been magnificent, my documentation has been far from great. Many things can distract a writer. Many good things as well as boring things. Forget those things. Let's concentrate on the most recent adventures.

In reverse and jumbled order, today, I spent the day in Colton for work. I am sealing deals all over the place. It is very exciting to know that you are on the precipice of being a millionaire. I also realized that I have a very serious affection for the Inland Empire. I mean when is the last time you have seen Riverside? Adventure number two in reverse order: stayed in Riverside at the Mission Inn. The place looks like someone transported a block of Italy and slapped it in the middle of the desert. The lobby has a presidential lounge that has quite literally large paintings of our beloved presidents on the walls. The spookiest thing is that George Bush looks exactly like George W Bush. Teddy R and Ronald Regan look the best in paintings.

But really, the Inland Empire. The desert. Something about residential communities in the dusty desert. It isn't of these times. And the giant palm trees, the kind out near the salton sea that look like the dog from sesame street was impaled on them. These are the kinds of things that just flip mid-westerners out. And as I am approaching my three-year LA-Anniversary I can testify that none of the wonder or glory of SoCal has worn off. It has refocused to places like the IE, Central Coast, and interstate 395 but it is still there.

Adventure number three was smack dab in the middle of Echo Park where the great ball crew witnessed a 14 inning game against the dumb Colorado Rockies. Longest game in my personal sportsfan history.

And my last adventure to report was a jaunt back up to The Giant Forest and Kings Canyon. This area is not a place to be underestimated. GIANT Forest, KINGS Canyon. Medieval nature. Prehistoric nature. Believe that people. There are many things to write about for example, driving out to Mineral King area to camp was worth it because nobody was there. But the real highlights are when you are around other National Park People. Especially the concerned self-righteous hippies that make it their business to report human interactions with wildlife. We saw one couple dressed in baggy purple t-shirts carrying nalgene bottles, tell a ranger that a family was agitating a bear cub. Good thing they knew better. The ranger, who must hear this crap all the time said, "yeah.. I dunno... people are stupid."

Ah. I love those NP Rangers.

I woke up thinking that there was an intruder in my room. That someone was hanging from my shitty old ceiling fan waiting for me to almost fall asleep and then at the right time he jumped down knocking off all the books on my nightstand and rolled around on my bed. I thought he came from the ceiling fan because it was moving around like a dead animal was offbalancing the motor. Awful noise I tell you.

But there was no one there. I grabbed my baseball bat and waited for the poltergeist to reappear. I came to my senses knowing that one doesn't wake up completely insane, that it is a slower process involving no-pants in public and shit-smearing on walls, I realized that shimmy-shake was an earthquake. I called K to confirm and she said she had already got several messages from her concerned friends (I am sure mine didn't come through because of the fault quake-ridden network) and that it was indeed an earthquake.

Not a good time for a quake. I need to get beauty rest for a special visitor coming in tomorrow. I started to watch the first part of "Field of Dreams" before bed and knowing that I could possibly fall into a crack in the earth at anytime makes me want to stay up and finish watching it. So I can finally understand some of the Saturday Night Live sketches of the 90s. Oh anyway, so much to do before we all fall into the big crack.

What does it mean to have a recurring dream? That your brain is out of ideas or that you have a serious neurosis?

Bergman and Antonioni died this week. Too bad, I bet Bergman would have liked to hear about my recurring dream. It's also too bad that I can't come up with anything intelligent to say about them. I loved "Blow-up" and watched it 60thousands times in undergrad and I was always creeped out and confused by "Persona" - two great works. Rent them tonight.

Anyway, we went to the Dodgers again last night and thanks to the easy-to-update jumbotron we learned that Barry Bonds went ahead and did the damn thing in San Diego. That's totally fine because we have enough excitement in Los Angeles.

I have so much stuff (photos and brochures/artifacts) to shift through from my recent travels I don't know if I can get it all done and still sleep until noon on the weekends. For example the photo above shows a small child humping some textile art in Washington DC. That's practically a 3000 word article right there. I need to stop traveling and having good times at losing Dodgers games so I can just get settled and TCB.

On Tuesday I bit my lip eating a hot dog in the all you can eat section of Dodgers Stadium. There was no reason to be eating like a middle child but there was a sense of urgency and competition, you had to be there. Maybe I was just jetlagged and my mouth was still on eastern time. All that I know for sure is that life has been really hard since then because my lip still hurts and because a lot of stressful events have conspired in the past couple days. Like for example I had to get back to work at my day job. And I had to compose a firm yet tactful letter to Delta Airlines Corporate Customer Care that dug up very painful emotions. And no one has shown up at my house to do my laundry. And my precious myspace account for the office sign project was compromised and now I can't reach the people, my fans. Even worse they may think I am giving out Macy's gift cards or promoting an Argentinian Record Label. Oh and I got another street cleaning ticket. I also happen to think I found proof that my right eyeball is falling out.

I hope that the weekend brings excitement of the happier variety.

Stuck in Baltimore for one more day. I wouldn't mind a bit if this day hadn't included getting up at 4:30am - wait- not only getting up at 4:30am but, rallying up a non-morning person friend at 4:30am as well (Thereby using a valuable favor) to take me to the airport only to find that my flight is delayed and I have to wait in line for a boarding pass because the self-check kiosk is blitzed out from storms and delays and whatevers. While waiting three hours in line I miss a flight and my other flight gets delayed to kingdom come. Meanwhile truly angry passengers that actually have someplace to go unlike the rest of us taking a vacation in the Delta Airlines Check-in line are cutting in front. And the two people at the counter couldn't give a crap. It was pandemonium. It still is. I'm nervous to go back. I have a reissued ticket for a United flight that connects in Chicago but I don't believe it.

Baltimore will be a fine place to set up my new homestead anyway.It's just that I have an awesome ticket to the Dodgers game tomorrowm

Yesterday we went to DC. It was an incredible day and a true test of travelogy toughness. We walked six thousand miles in pouring down rain dressed in plastic smithsonian ponchos and saw every war memorial known to man. We saw the Ford Theater where Lincoln was shot.It is a national historical site so there were a couple NPS rangers there. One gave a talk on stage in the theater that was so moving, so impassioned, I was brought to tears. I was also very inspired to visit the house right across the street where Lincoln died. It was a crowded exhibit and they were only letting a few people in at a time and this meat head raddad in front of us was taking forever to read this sign that said 'Lincoln Died In This Room' and he was completely ignoring his fat litterbuggin' child and it was really pissing Nat off so she eventually shoved him out the door of the very place when Lincoln took his last breath. She actually pushed a grown man and hit him with the door. She said Lincoln would not only understand but would be proud.

Maybe, maybe he would.

I'm waiting for the rest of my writing group posse to show up. Here's another lesson for you: Don't put your apples in the freezer. Not even for fifteen minutes to make them cold and crisp. They won't be crisp. They will actually get a bit shrively. Just yuck.

I kind of take back my tirade from yesterday I smoothed everything out with my most earnest girl voice on the phone today. Looks like we'll be able to get a tour and an interview after all. I don't retract my advice to never ask for permission. That's a bunch of negatives but I think it works. It's negative Wednesday, like Backwards Friday!

I'm outta here again tomorrow. I need some guest writers that live in LA to email me weather descriptions for 80 and Sunny. Let me know if you are up to the task.

B Bonds is on base. What an awful state of anticipation, he's been walked like a hundred times tonight. I am sure none of these pitchers wanna be the guy that had a perfectly fine career until Barry Bonds hit his record smashing home run off one of their pitches.

I write tonight to teach everyone a lesson I have learned time and time again but I often forget to take heed. I would put the lesson in a fable but I can't come up with two animals other than a horses ass and a donkey's ass and that's just not reader friendly.

So the lesson is - in today's suspicious times, do not try to plan ahead for any sort of radical media project. Do not try to ask ahead of time if its ok to stop by or shoot here or there or to talk to so and so or look at this or that. I got an email today canceling my interview with some of the Harper's Ferry National Park people. They said they needed more time and the director wanted to be involved with the interview and maybe some of the drafts and what are my credentials?

I sent the poor secretary/go-betweener a lengthy email that started off with my credentials as a baddass and ended up in a thinly veiled battle cry for the first amendment. I said something like if your director wants to look at a draft he can hire me otherwise, I will continue to follow the tradition of all radical media artists and writers throughout history and just write free! Create free! What a dumbass. Why did I press send? I should have spent the night going through my draft box to finally send out those tearfully composed emails to ex-boyfriends. That would have been better.

I might be on some federal list now. I hope they don't take away my national park passport book. The big thing that irks me is that I could have just walked up in the joint and casually talked to some workers. Instead I have been working with this lady on the phone for a while and now she's had enough time to freak out and hide behind some unspoken September 11th statute. All anyone has to say is, well we need more information because, you know, security issues with the government.

But seriously, we have reached an era when you can't even check out federal printing facilities just because you said you were going to write something. It's not like they are printing hundred dollar bills or shiny pennies or copies of the patriot act.

Ehnrenreich doesn't fucking tell Merry Maids shes infiltrating. She just takes a job there and scrubs some floors and makes friends with sad women and then writes the facts later.

God!! Lesson learned.

Game is over. No homers. Nothing for the grand roundtripper tonight. Seems the pen has been mightier than the bat, for once, sniff..sniff.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Lor and I went to Catalina this week. It's a 70 minute boat ride and I wanted to throw up about ten minutes in. I've never been sea sick before but I never took a go-fast boat across the Pacific so I guess there's a new experience in every day.

L is a great travel companion because she likes the same dorky business that I do. We went on a bus tour narrated by a cranky old resident. She didn't give us a lick of historical information about the island other than that the Cubs used to spring train there. Then we got on a special tourist boat that has seats set in about six feet under water with individual bench seats and windows so you can see the fish swimming by. The tour guides toss disgusting slimy suction-cupped squid limbs into the water so the fish will snack out near the windows. It's really great actually. It is like scuba diving without any effort and you don't have to touch slimy kelp. This boat made L want to throw up.

The best thing for motion sickness is Heineken beer. So we got some of that and then walked around the beach area to the place they call the "Casino" which isn't actually a gambling facility but an old fashioned name for a social gathering place. Kind of like a 'salon'. It's a gorgeous art deco building, at least that's what I gathered from the outside because it was locked up. They show movies there on the weekend evenings. They also have boat tours in the evening that take you up close with flying fish and I mean wouldn't you rather see flying fish. You can catch a movie on the mainland any time.

I tried to outsmart the seasickness for the ride back so I downed some dramamine right before I got on the boat. I made sure to tell the teen working at the soda stand near the dock that I never get seasick so this is all very new to me. I am sure that she was so totally interested. I don't know why we have these conversations with retail people. I remember working retail and so many people just dishing out TMI all over the place.

I felt sick the whole boat ride back but my pain was instantly erased when we got to San Pedro near the Vincent Thomas Bridge. I flipping love the robot machinery on those docks. I really think I should apply for a job operating a crane. I wonder if I could listen to books on tape and take pinhole camera photos.

Wayfarer

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

On our way to the beach in Palos Verdes Am and I discovered the Wayfarers Chapel. Well, it might have already been discovered because it had a visitors center. It is a holy place built with wood, glass, and local rocks with genuine sea animal fossils. When you are inside you feel like you are outside (except there are pews) because the walls are lined with plants and the walls and ceiling are all glass with wood frames. The building was designed by Lloyd Wright, son of you know who. It is divine.
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We drove around for a good while because Am neglected to tell me that she didn’t actually know where a good beach was and that the last time she was in the area she was on a private beach. It seems silly but I have often been driving right next to the ol’ pond we call the Pacific and not been able to just get there. To just 'get in the water' is not as easy as it seems. Thank the gods of Wayfarer that there is federal land otherwise all the hedge fund a-holes would make the whole west coast a private beach.

The drive did give me some insight to Palos Verdes though. It seems that The Wayfarers Chapel is only one of a number of places of worship. With rocky cliffs and trees as varied as the selection at TJ Maxx, what else can you do with such a coast line but build places of worship? There were more churches than condos. I’m not even exaggerating.

Whenever I am at the beach I sit and think the exact same thing I have always thought since I was just a little gal, “I could stay here forever and I just might.” But I always leave.

Bloomin

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

Last night we went to the Hammer for the Zineland exhibit. We got our picture taken reading the constitution. I think it was because B’s orange fingernail polish and Am’s hat were precise visual representations of the first amendment.

Four people were on stage for the zine discussion panel. All of them were in their mid-thirties so they have been around since before the world wide web. Much of their discussion centered around the end of zines. Independent publications have been around since stone carving so it was slightly annoying to see indie rockers presenting themselves as historical determinants of alternative publications. Their experience was changing so it must be the end. I think the people sitting at the tables with their handmade booklets and poetry scrolls would disagree that the end of zines is upon us. I saw a ton of good stuff, most of which was Xeroxed on newsprint, and I felt some pressure to buy – that’s what happens when the author is watching you look over their stuff. Good sales technique.

We had a deadline to get back to Echo Park before the fireworks started at the Lotus Festival. Traveling cross-town in LA is a true crapshoot but the 10 was clear and we were able to watch the fireworks on the walk from our parking spot (possible the last one on the entire east side) to Echo Park Lake. We stood by the lake for exactly one minute and three seconds of the grand finale so technically we made it back in time.

Besides the two kind of people in this world that believe that there is or isn’t two kinds of people, there are a second two kinds of people; those that love the Lotus Festival and those that avoid it. The way N talked about it I thought it would be a giant clusterf@*k.
But minus the immediate post-fireworks foot traffic, it was pleasant. The festival is set up all around the lake and the water has a calming effect. During the day there are swans in that lake. I doubt they stuck around for the fireworks though. I ran around with Am who was on a hunt for an old lady making papaya salad for a bit before we settled at Masa to eat meatloaf.

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

B told me that I have hidden guy parts because I like cars, fireworks, and baseball. Totally inaccurate. I am a patriot and you don't have to be a dude to be a patriot any more. This isn't the first gulf war ya know? Times have changed. You just have to love federal land, civic duties, and your right to explosive as well as contemplative pastimes.

Celebrate Good Times

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

What is going on at The Encounter?

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Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

I got back to LA yesterday. I was greeted by the blistering (ooh - that’s good, I will use that for 80 and Sunny) sun and a nice early evening traffic jam. There is nothing like sitting in traffic a few miles from home when you have been traveling for days. That is why I love living in Los Angeles and not in Mid-Michigan where you drive your car from point A to point B without any kind of build-up or appreciation for your destination.

I also love The Encounter restaurant and noticed from my view coming out of the Northwest Terminal that it is under some kind of construction. I can't help but wonder if anyone else noticed or if this is another alien mandated construction project. The scaffolding tells me this may be the case.