Not updating your blog is a bit of a
vicious cycle... you don't want to, but the longer you leave it, the
more you have to say, and a more daunting task it is.
The way to break the cycle is through
Resolve, which is a type of wine.
"I'M SO MOTIVATED!"
Happily, I can't say I have too too
much to say. The last month has been a whole lot of just living in
Los Angeles, a place where the air shimmers like fool's gold and
smells like fried chicken. A place like that is easy to live in, as
long as you don't take it too seriously. This is probably why
everyone buys such tiny, ridiculous dogs. Not that I should talk; we have a rabbit.
And there's a guy who shops at Ralph's who has a parrot named Taco. Cause, you know, Los Angeles.
Undaunted by this city's eccentricities, I've been taking care of business
lately; since my work insurance has taken effect, I've set up
optometry, dentist, and ob/gyn appointments, which is probably more
than you wanted to know. Today I got new glasses!
"Please, no photography."
Funny incidental story: Went to a bar, ordered food. Accidentally took the delivery guy's pen. Ran out of the bar to return it and was ushered back in by the bouncer, who I'd met earlier this evening. Got asked by someone in line for the bar what I'd "been in." In Los Angeles, it's more likely that you're famous than simply nice.
Fernando continues to be a bit of a
prick. Truth be told I think he might have Intermittant Explosive
Disorder, because he's a nice guy, generally, but when he gets mad,
there's no real control; he's just really reactive, over every little
thing. If the dog gets out, he goes berserk. Never mind that it was
an accident; he's going to come over, yelling his head off,
threatening us, et cetera. This puts us in a bad position: do we
beat up a crazy old man with a heart condition or let him flail at us
while we shrug comically to each other and wait for the laugh track
to play? So far, I always manage to talk him down, and in a way,
it's nice for me (the reactive one) to be challenged to be put in
that position while Andrew (the pacifist) gets provoked. Still,
we've discussed moving, because we shouldn't have to worry about
being yelled at every month. There doesn't seem to be anything we
can do to appease him and I think the real reason he dislikes us is
for three factors we can't control: we're young, and we're white, and
we have dogs. (He's a cat person.)
Never have an Otherkin neighbour... they hate it when you throw parties on weekends.
Other than Fernando, my commitment to a
drama-free life is panning out well. Jenny has decided to butt out
forever, and while I feel guilty that Andrew's lost a friend, I'm
also aware that it was not my decision, or his, but hers. I haven't
hung out with Brandon since he went Full Fernando on me, which is
alright, as I've been socialising a lot at work and also have made a
new friend, Ted. I met Ted online and he's 1) not a serial killer,
2) also recently relocated and looking for friends, 3) clever and
quippy, and 4) strongly opinionated on comic books.
You might say he makes a lot of boners.
Aside from that
I've been doing a fair share of socialising at home.
...by getting screamed at by Fernando.
Jack and I are doing well though I'm
worried our relationship hasn't quite been repaired since our fight.
This is exacerbated by the fact that Jack hangs out with Brandon a
lot and I just can't respect Brandon anymore. He is not part of my
new drama-free life. Andrew and I, however, are doing better than
ever. Andrew's a great person to emulate if you're going for low
drama because he's so good at being positive. Speaking of J&A,
the twins' birthday was last month and I took them out to Medieval
Times.
He couldn't resist doing a "Blue Steel" look for the camera.
So if you've never been to Medieval Times in Los Angeles, go, because
their princess (“Catalina”) has an inexplicable valley girl
accent so thick it could be cut like butter if butter weren't so
super, like, awful for your butt. “Catalina” was matched only by
the Black Knight, who was like, dude, totally not cool, man.
The three of us also went camping last
weekend in Cooper's Canyon, just outside of Pasadena. Cooper's
Canyon is a picturesque place of boulders, sands, soaring pines, and
a sky so blue you wish you could drink it.
I much prefer hanging out with just
them (and sometimes Ted) than others. We went to a pool party last
month, for example, with one of Jack's friends, Anita, and it was
dreadful. All of them were strangely immature, even the 40-yr-old
guy who was dressed like a pirate but also in a kilt (a Scottish
pirate?) and thought it was okay to hang out with all of the kids in
their shitty apartment where the main decoration on the walls were
anime posters. It was... bafflingly. It was something of a reminder
that Jack,while the same age as Andrew, is so much more immature than
him and at a different (lower) level in this video game we call life.
Personally I'm getting comfortable with being an adult and balancing
my chequebook and going to bed early and figuring out what my
mortgage will be when I buy a house, and I'm less and less willing to
hang out with people who are not at that level.
"That Level" here refers to a bar in Los Angeles.
But seriously, example: 16-yr-olds. Andrew's cousin
(Heather) and her best friend (Dylan) came and stayed with us last
month, and while they were alright, I couldn't get over the idea that
their mother had sent them across the country alone for a
mini-vacation. They weren't particularly great guests: didn't offer
to help with dishes, didn't offer to pay for dinner when we went out,
left an ENORMOUS mess when they left.
The kind of mess normally only made when yuppie assholes who are texting while driving slam their SUVs into fire hydrants. In Los Angeles, the nicer the car, the more of a danger the driver is. This happened last month, about six blocks over. This month, all the fire hydrants are okay, although someone got shot on my block two days ago and the crime scene investigation was phenomenally involved. Lots of cops and yellow tape and all that, just like on telly! The coroner was wearing brown slacks with a grey suit, indicting that he either dressed poorly because he works with dead people, or vice versa, or perhaps is actually super scared of death and constantly requires brown pants.
Having people visiting was hard because
of my social anxiety, compounded by the fact that after working a
10-hr. day I don't want to come home to entertain anyone or show them
about a city I don't know well yet. Also Andrew's family in general
makes me uneasy ever since his mother had a meltdown a few years ago
and kicked me out of her house and has taken ever opportunity since
to be really rude to me. The worst part, though, with having the
kids around, was that I couldn't cut loose and do any of the things I
normally do when I get home from work: take off my shirt and bra,
uncork a bottle of wine, et cetera.
Speaking of drinks, we went to a bar
last month and tried an Old Spanish, which combines tonic water and
riesling with a few jumbo green olives. Shockingly... not terrible.
Mind you, I don't want you to get the impression we do nothing but go
to bars. We went to Ikea recently, which was alright but I was
somewhat disappointed because everyone had set the bar so high.
Jack, for example, lost his shit over these coasters, which were made of 40% recycled material and 60% Swedish horse meat.
We got picture frames and hung up some
pictures about the house, including Carlisle's “certificate of
bravery,” which he got from his last surgery, and a series of 6
drawings Jack did of us three and the dogs hanging out together.
In closing news as temperatures continue to climb, we got Seamus got a haircut.
Before: The dog who loves unconditionally and drools uncontrollably. He leaves drool-hearts frequently, which is endearingly gross.
After: The poster boy for shelter dogs everywhere. "Consider adopting your new best friend TODAY!" ^_^
(This is what prolonged living in California does to you... MAKE OVER!)