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Giraffe Manor [06 Feb 2005|10:35pm] Oh My God you guys I just happened upon this show about giraffes and they're visiting and filming Giraffe Manor in Kenya. WHAT LUCK! I'm so happy! I've written about this place before, this is the place where you can go to commune with a herd of giraffes, remember, the place where giraffes roam around the backyard of this lovely house and peek their heads in on the people in their bedrooms and share breakfast with them? I'd read about it ages ago but never seen any video about it. Happiness : ) Oh heaven -- I dream of going there. Someday, somehow, I will get there. It's like the way I felt about Burning Man before I'd ever gone -- I just knew it was something I had to do. Here's another link to a good travel story about a visit to Giraffe Manor. speak to me

When Cats Throw Up On Your Face, Anna, To Go Out or Not To Go Out [06 Feb 2005|03:56pm] I'm sitting here on a rainy Sunday in LA with my favorite cat Jake by my side, listening to sweet Summer (another beloved kitty -- a tortoise colored Devon Rex) snuffle around my things. She has chronic asthma so you can always hear her comings and goings. Malibu is here as well, ope, spoke to soon, he's gone again. I have a vague sense of this being Super Bowl Sunday but I don't watch football so I can't tell you whether the game already happened, if it's halftime now, or if it happens later. The only reason I know it's Super Bowl Sunday is because everyone's been talking about poor Janet Jackson's silly nipple baring accident, and there were really cute bakery items at both of the markets I go to. I just sent Anna off to buy some football shaped, cake/cupcake platters, and veggies and dip, for me to take around to friend's houses today. I honestly don't know if she's up to this, she might end up in Long Beach for all I know -- her sense of direction and her communication skills are that bad. I should have taken care of this myself when I was at the market yesterday but I was buying so much already, making sure I had every last little thing that Beau would want, because he had complained that Anna had eaten everything he liked, that I just didn't have the energy to worry about what I needed to take with me today. Anna has already set my overstimulted, frayed, nerve endings on fire and she's only been here a few hours. Her week starts on Sunday and no matter what I do to ensure that Esther takes care of every last little thing, that prissy, fiery Anna will get pissed off about, there will always be something left undone that I will have to hear about. For the last couple of weeks her bone has been laundry. I made sure to remind Esther twice to get Beau's laundry done so I wouldn't have to have another Sunday ruined listening to Anna's insane ramblings but Beau didn't gather up and take down his dirty clothes until late yesterday just before Esther was leaving. Still, she stayed late enough to sort it out and get it washed. Anna is freaking because it isn't dried and folded and there is nothing I can say to calm her down. The world is against her, Esther is doing this to her on purpose and that's all there is to it. One of the things that I hate the most about her is how she will complain about something and then not give you the courtesy of listening to your response or explanations. She just overrides me -- interrupts me with a stream of words that she is just saying to herself and I honestly cannot break through and get heard, she's that stubborn. Today she was so rude I just couldn't take it. I got really angry with her and she didn't even notice, or doesn't care. Something is seriously wrong with her ability to reason, she'll get pissed about something and then go off talking to herself for hours about it. Yatter, yatter, yatter, complain, complain, complain, whine, bitch, insult, complain, and there's nothing you can do to shut her up. I'm sorry to go off on this, I don't need advice, really, I just need to vent. If I had someone better to replace her with, and if I could give her tons of notice, or had enough money to give her enough severance to assuage my guilt, I would let her go in a heartbeat, but I need her and I don't want to hurt her. Hey she's back -- see sometimes she gets things really right. I just never know when this is going to be, and I know for certain that I won't be able to get along with her for too much longer. I don't know how we've lasted this long, as resentful, feisty, tight fisted and stubborn as she is. I could also list all of my own flaws here as well, but I'm tired and I think I do it enough that I don't really need to -- just want you to know that I'm always mindful of my own many failings when I'm ripping in to someone else. Plus she has many good qualities as well, I just don't feeling like listing them just now when I'm feeling upset. As usual I'm full of plans and wish I could do ten thousand things today, but I barely have the energy to attend the two, super light, social obligations I have. I don't know why, but my little grey/black, curly-coated, Curly Girl cat chose to climb up onto me when I was sleeping last night and puked onto my face and shoulders, not once but twice last night, waking me up with a great shock, and forcing me to wash and change my clothes and bedding two separate times. Poor Jake got covered with barf the second time around and was sitting on my bed trying to figure out how he was going to groom it all off when I rescued him with a couple of towels. The first time was shocking, but the second was just over the top, weird, icky and baffling. I mean when you live with a zooful of cats you learn to expect and accept these kinds of things, but not twice in once night. I think I'm kind of like a big mama cat to a lot of the kitties and Curly Girl was seeking comfort and warmth by climbing up onto me, but why she would stand up and aim at my face is beyond me. The second time was the worst though because I had already gotten up, made sure she was okay, then stripped off my clothes, and the pillows, sheets, and blanket, cleaned off, remade the bed, and then finally went back to sleep. I was curled up, warm and comfortable, deep asleep with Jake and a fresh blanket when she got sick again, but this time she kind of leaned in more and filled up my ear. Oh man, grossness. Needless to say, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. As I write this she's sitting on my lap purring away and grooming Triple B. I'll watch her today and take her to the vet tomorrow. I have to get dressed soon because I have to go get Atra and then take her to my neighbor Nancy's house. Nancy has kindly organized a long overdue block party, which is something that, as block captain, I should have done long ago, so I'm feeling a bit embarrassed about the whole thing. I just can't really have big neighborhood parties here with all of the pets. I love Nancy and admire her so much. She's just the kind of person I'd like to be if I ever grow up. Really, you'd love her, she gave up everything she had to start one of the leading children's charities, The Starlight Children's Foundation, a foundation that grants wishes to terminally ill children and works to improve their lives and the lives of their families in every way possible -- now tell me what is not to admire about a person like this. I'm going to stop by Atra's house first to visit her Mom Ghodsi's old friend's Jane and Gus, who flew from Omaha to visit her. They come out once a year to visit and have been friends since Ghodsi's children, my friend's Atra, Arta and Maryam, were small. Gus had some kind of job in Iran and they lived there, renting their place from Atra's family, and that's how they all became close. During the terrifying pre-revolution days, most foreigners fled and naturally they did as well, but they were sad because they loved Tehran, and they've kept in touch all these years. Beau just came in and asked me if I could tell him when the Superbowl will be on. Ha, and here I was just writing about how I didn't have a clue when it was. I had to look it up for him in the guide so now I'm kind of tuned in to it a bit more. Three o'clock -- superbowl -- hoo. I have the pre-game show on now because Beau left it on this channel -- this kind of thing makes my heart ache for my Father, makes me tear up and feel that deep sadness that sits on my chest and makes me question whether I will ever see him again -- ever see that smirk, hear him laugh or tell a joke. He was the embodiment of all things football, all things sport like and traditionally masculine in our home, and I miss him so. I just miss him so Goddamned much. When I comfort friends and strangers who have lost a loved one, I always tell them that I am certain they will see their loved ones again someday. I feel certain of this for other people, but then, in these brief sad hiccups of grief, I have my doubts, but it doesn't last for long, and then I regain my faith. I think it is so sweet that Beau likes football and that he wants to watch the Superbowl today. I love when he does things that are kind of traditionally masculine, things that I haven't bothered to help him get interested in, and that come from someplace entirely of his own. I sometimes worry that having only one parent involved in his life might mean that he won't be getting enough masculine influence but he manages to gravitate towards it all on his own and it's a relief to me. I'm supposed to go sing with Scott in the studio again this week. He let me get out of yesterday's session because I'm fighting a virus and have a sore throat that I may have caught from him, but there's no getting out of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday's sessions. I may actually rent a car just so I'll be able to travel back and forth between our houses while leaving Anna with the car here for any emergencies. Okay, as Simon Cowell would say, off I go... Nope, I'm back, I goofed up, Nancy's party is next weekend, argh, you try living in this head of mine, waaaaaaaaaaa... Hugs, Jacqui 2 happy naked souls|speak to me

The SAG Awards, Valentine Procrastinatation, Sandra Oh is Hot [06 Feb 2005|12:41am] Oh My God the SAG awards are just so emotion packed tonight. First James Garner says, "Hello Actors," and then breaks up thanking all of us, then sweet, sweet, gentle, quietly intense, wonderful, lovely, elegant, sincerely talented Morgan Freeman won, YESSSS, (I voted for him!) and said, "I want to thank everyone I've ever met!" Sigh. And now we're watching the annual montage-goodbye-tribute to everyone who passed away this year, tears! I love this awards show. Some idiot at the dog park today said the SAGS were nothing because they didn't carry any weight in the lead up to Oscar. First of all I disagree, and second of all, like I care; these are my brothers and sisters, my soul mates, the people with whom I share the deepest longing of my heart, and I can't think of too many other things I would rather be doing than sitting here celebrating their work. I made some new icons for Valentines Day but I haven't had the time to put them up. I also have got to go to the mall and drop off the pink knit scarves and glittered heart shaped cards I made, sheesh. Hey, did I miss anyone in the mad rush to get my Holiday cards out? Did anyone send me one and not get one in return? Please let me know so I can make this up to you, like I said before, some of you forgot to include your journal names or even your return addresses and I was sorry not to be able to send cards back to some of the kind people who sent cards to me. Oh yeay, Sandra Oh is giving her thanks for having won in the best ensemble cast category for Sideways. She looks FABULOUS tonight, wow!!! She is my absolute favorite actor by far in this film and the best thing about this movie, as far as I'm concerned. If I were gay, (and I'm not entirely sure that I'm not because I've always felt that I could love a woman just as easily as a man -- I love the person more than I love the sex of the person), she would be the exact type of woman I would fall in love with, well, after Angelina, Oprah, and Ellen ; ) You know part of it is that she is so funny and centered, and there is just something so sexy about funny people. It takes serious intelligence and presence to be funny, it's such a gift. I also thought she was super sexy as the pregnant best pal in Under the Tuscan Sun, and well, yeah, as long as I'm revealing super personal bits of information about my sexuality here, I might as well add that I find pregnant women unbelievably attractive and sexy. It always seems like such a pity that so many pregnant women don't get how very beautiful they are, don't see themselves in the same way that I do -- as the embodiment of life; juicy-ripe, sexy, life giving peaches. Getting back to Sandra, as this terribly wronged woman kicking the shit out of the jerk who wronged her in Sideways, she was superb. 9 happy naked souls|speak to me

Ossie Davis Died : ( Singing With Scott, a Moving Documentary About Elder Rape, and the SAG Awards [05 Feb 2005|05:09am] Ruby and Ossie Davis Oh no, I just read that Ossie Davis died, how sad. I love Ossie and Ruby Davis, not only because they were mavericks, activists, and terrific actors, but because they were so lovely as a couple. Remember that touching moment at the SAG Awards where they were honored with a lifetime achievement award? God that was moving. We even named two of our little black kitties (two of my beloved Sparkle's babies that Scott has always called The Sparklers), Ossie D. and Ruby Dee. I've never written about this before because I always worried that it might be a bit racist -- clearly a black cat is not the same thing as a person of African descent, but I meant it as a compliment -- they're the coolest cats in all the world. Oh God I hope I don't lose some of my favorite pals here over this. I was just reading a book about the history of black actors in Hollywood -- I had finally seen Introducing Dorothy Dandridge with Halle Berry, (I can't believe I missed this when it was first on, sheesh), and I wanted to learn more about her life and what black actors have had to go through in our business -- and I came across a chapter about Ossie and his wife, there was the world's sweetest picture of the two of them stepping off of a train, arriving in Hollywood, they looked so young and happy, and I've always loved how they work together. She must be crushed. Damn, and I had hoped that someday I might be lucky enough to meet him or them : ( He gave a eulogy at the funeral for Malcolm X. I bet he was a love. An Al Hirshfeld drawing from a play featuring Ruby and Ossie Davis. Thank you as always for your support through this difficult drama I went through in singing back up on Scott's latest CD. Deciding to go back into the studio and try again, this time with Scott's active support, was a good one. I was so hurt, angry, and frightened, that it was almost more than I thought I could handle. I almost bailed out several times but I just forced myself to do it. It really took everything I had just to show up and be present, so I wasn't really at my best, but it was something I felt I just had to do. It kind of sucked that one of the main directives that Scott kept having to give me was, "Have fun and smile broadly while you sing," which just made me want to throttle him because what I was really feeling was this deep anger over how hurt I had been. I wanted to say, "Shut up you &^%^$* ^%*#$*! You try feeling as hurt as I do and smile while you sing," but I knew he just wanted it to sound good, and he was trying to be supportive -- not as supportive as I wanted him to be, I needed so much more from him in terms of encouragement -- but he did the best he could and was completely baffled as to what I needed. So I stuck it out, soldiered on, and like I said, I'm really glad I did. Once I worked through a lot of my anger by being sarcastic, and not just a little biting, I was able to loosen up and begin, just begin, to have some fun. Whereas at the beginning of the night I didn't even want to touch Scott, by the end of our session I was wondering if we'd still have enough energy to be able to make love when we got home -- we didn't. I've always believed in Scott as an artist and last night all of these feelings were reaffirmed for me, and the same goes for his producer Marc who has a genius gift for sound. He hears things that I think so many other people might let slide, he's that picky. The arrangements they've put together for Scott's songs, the musicians they've hired, and the rich blend of sound they've put together, is so good. I can't wait for you to hear it and I'm grateful to be a part of this and so so so glad I stuck it out rather than running for the food halls of Harrods, if you know what I mean. I would have said run for the hills but for a gal like me, a huge comfort seeking food addict, it makes more sense to reference food, yep. When we finally got out of the studio last night we went back to Scott's where I gave in and took a Xanax so I could wrap something chemical around my seriously frayed nerves, that neither Scott nor I could do anything about. I spent there so I could take him for an epidural today that might bring him some back pain relief. He wasn't supposed to drive afterwards and needed to rest for several hours. I went with him and kept him company, then drove him home to my house and sat by him here in my bed while he slept. I was happy for his company, I really do love that man. I took our still unnamed Jack Russell Terrier puppy with me when I went to pick up Beau today. I know you want me to share pictures of our dogs with you and I promise I will soon. She was so nice, slept on my lap, seemed happy, so calm as opposed to the wild bouncing freak dog that she is here at home with us, poor little thing. I want to call her Flora, Ana wants to keep calling her Puppy even though we already have a dog named Puppy, and Beau wants to call her Scrappers. When I got to Beau's school he was all worked up about going to The Promenade in Santa Monica with some of his friends. I said no at first because he's never been there unsupervised before, and there are a lot of homeless folks and drug addicts that hang out there, so it can be kind of scary at times, but he was so upset, and I remembered how much I loved having the freedom to go to Westwood when I was a kid, so I changed my mind and let him go. Afterwards Puppy and I went to one of my favorite bakeries and I got some tea and treats to bring home to share with Esther and her family. After that we went to our local celebrity dog park and had fun playing with the other dogs and chatting with people. I got to see my favorite dog, a big, gorgeous, black Great Dane named Jake, which is the same name as one of my very favorite cats. Jake never knows what to make of me because as soon as I see him I start calling his name and run towards him like I'm running towards an old lost lover. I can't help it, I just love him so much. He's obviously an old soul, I just look at that great big noble head and into those deeply intelligent eyes and I melt. I like his owner too, she just sold her condo and is looking for a small house. A small house in any part of LA that isn't totally beset with gang crime will run 900,000.00 dollars. Isn't that shocking? And that's if you're lucky enough to be the first person through the door on the broker caravan days. If you hesitate for a second, no more house. She put an offer in on a house that was 20,000.00 above the asking price and she was buried in a pile of multiple offers, thirty of them. I was thinking about this kind of thing earlier today -- thinking about how when I recently posted pictures of the oranges, lemons, and grapefruit at our house in the desert, one of my LJ friends had said something like, "Don't they have fruit trees that hang over back yard fences where you come from?" it had kind of hurt my feelings a little bit -- made me feel like my pictures were so mundane and commonplace as to be confusing to her. So I was thinking about this earlier today, thinking that she mustn't understand the LA housing market, and the fact that we count ourselves lucky to live on teenie little parcels of land that cost a million and a half dollars, our houses squashed up against each other, no land to speak of, not too much room for fruit laden trees, in a filthy, grey-yellow, smog-choked city where bursts of colorful nature are so few and far between that, at least in my neighborhood, they're something to be embraced and celebrated. I watched the best documentary on HBO Pay-Per-View tonight. It was called something like Rape In a Small Town and it was this smart and moving account of an older woman's (She was seventy-five when it happened, and eighty-seven when the documentary was made), brutal rape and her brave fight to keep the rapist in jail in order to prevent him from ever doing to another woman what he had done to her. You wouldn't think this would be the kind of thing that you would enjoy watching, but she was so smart, so dear, and so simple and direct in her description of the terrible events of the night she was raped, that it was fascinating and compelling. It didn't surprise me at all when the film makers showed photographs of her five children and her really fine art -- a mother and an artist who is standing up for her rights as a woman and an elderly person, against a sick and brutal criminal, now that's television I can really get behind. Scott and I tried to get tickets to The SAG Awards but the tickets are by lottery, and even if the lottery really does exist and plain ol', non-famous SAG members like the two of us, could even get our hands on a couple of tickets, there's still the hurdle of their costing SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS a piece! That just seems so unfair, especially when you consider that something like ninety percent of the voting membership is out of work, and of the remaining small fraction of people who are lucky enough to actually find work, the majority of them make less than $5,000.00 dollars a year. It just seems wrong to me that wealthy celebrities and their friends and publicists get to go for free while the rest of us are pretty much locked out. Don't mind me, I'm just being envious, I'd also like to try Crystal Champagne to see what the big deal is, but at six -- nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars a bottle, I don't know how likely that is. Wow, this was a long one and it is super late, or early. I had wanted to get up super early to go to an estate sale that I know about that's happening tomorrow, but I decided it would be better to just take a day off and rest up for next week. Okay, good night sweethearts, good night... Hugs, Jacqui 11 happy naked souls|speak to me

[03 Feb 2005|05:58pm] This one's for Jen and Prins(sp?) Well, at least I made it to Scott's. I'm going to give singing back-up on his album one more shot tonight and I'm nervous as all get out. I'm walking myself through my fear one minute at a time here, but I think giving him a chance to make some of his past nutty and not-too-supportive behavior up to me is the right move. I don't want to give up or give in on this note. Anna needs to have the car just in case anything happens at home that she would need to have a car for, and she's going to be driving Beau to school tomorrow, so I had her drive me out here and drop me off. Her biggest handicap, as far as any of us can tell, is her unbelievably bad sense of direction, and the near certainty that any time she has to go somewhere new she is bound to get lost. I wrote the directions out so carefully for her and I even had Beau come along with her so I could use cell phones to guide them back if she wound up getting lost. We got here so easily, it's just three turns, three roads; the freeway, a left on one street and then another left on one more street and you're here. It's not like I'm asking her to drive to Quebec or something. To get back you repeat this process only backwards but just in case I wrote out the return directions, step by step, in Spanish, and she still got lost. I don't know, she just seems to be missing some crucial pathways in her brain or something, and as she left I was thinking, "Awww Anna is so nice, okay, so she drives with two feet and doesn't listen too well, she's well meaning and I am so lucky to have her," and then she got lost, as usual. She just zipped right by the right hand turn she was supposed to make and called me miles down the road asking me where to go, argh. The man that owned this house, before Scott bought it, was a plumber so he installed lots of nice little plumbing extras like the insta-hot in the kitchen where I can just push a button and make my tea instantly. I have two insta-hot units in my kitchen at home, but of course no matter how often we've had them repaired and replaced, they never work. I love the series Huff so much. I think this is my favorite show now, well, next to The Osbournes, that I will probably always remain mad for. The direction, writing, acting, casting of this show is superb. I've always known that Hank Azaria was a terrific actor and I've been watching Blythe Danner and loving and respecting her work since I was a small girl, but all of these other actors are simply amazing. I don't know Paget Brewster but she's great -- totally genuine work -- not a fake moment, and Oliver Platt, well, you'll just have to trust me that he is so outrageously good in this that he more than deserved the Golden Globe nomination he received for his work in this. Oh and I forgot Swoosie Kurtz who is also totally believable as Beth's loving cancer ridden mother. I also love the story line, dark though it may be, it deals with one of my absolute favorite subjects; psychology/psychiatry and family. I just can't say enough good things about this show. If you can catch up on the past episodes, or read about them on line, it shouldn't be too hard to jump in and enjoy it like I do. I was slow to start myself, missed about ten episodes before I gave it a chance, but now I'm completely addicted in the same way I am with Six Feet Under when it's on, only worse because this show has a little more heart and soul, if you can believe that. Speaking of the Osbournes I'm watching a rerun of the premiere of the new season on Scott's DVR right now. I so want to hang out with them. I would just be their pal, come up with creative and fun ways to enhance their lives -- too bad you can't do this, too bad there isn't a safe way for fans and the people they dig to hook up without it seeming weird and threatening. I mean how would you vet people, make sure they aren't creepy stalker beings? If I could I would take my pal Geordie here on LJ and go on over there and apply for a volunteer friendship apprenticeship. I'm still seriously needing that body makeover that I was millimeters away from getting from Sharon before they, or she shut down her show. After this music thing is over with Scott, and I put some things in my antique mall, I'm going to focus on doing kind things for my Mother. I think she needs some entertainment and companionship and I haven't played with her since we were in the desert together. In about a week we'll be meeting with the fashion show coordinator from the Art Deco Society for the show of my Granny and Mom's vintage dresses that my dear old friend Mary so kindly arranged for us. Now that's a pal. I let Rosa bring the entire collection of dresses I've been building for quite a few years now, back home from the desert, and we're going to go through them together and decide how many and which pieces we'll use for the fashion show. Then I'll have to come up with some interesting and witty dialogue to go with the dresses since I get to be the MC. Oh and the woman I'm meeting with makes reproduction vintage dresses so I'm going to have her let out one of Granny's dresses for me so I can wear one for the show, either that or I'll have her design a copy for me. I've been invited to a couple of estate sales this weekend and would love to go, but I also have a neighborhood block party, another singing gig thing with Scott, I've been invited to some other thing for the neighborhood, I think a councilwoman is coming to speak about something, and there's something else on Sunday. I'd like to go to the estate sales so I could get a coffee table for Scott and a bed or a futon for his guest bedroom and stuff for resale. I've been talking about this forever but I'm so hoping I'll eventually have enough stuff priced and ready to go to rent a space at The Santa Monica Airport Flea Market, or a space, as opposed to a case, at the mall. Okay, off for a bath and then get dressed for tonight. Wish me luck, send good energy? Big loving hugs, Jacqui I like this little girl, isn't she cute? Nice to see a vintage black image that isn't racist in some way. 15 happy naked souls|speak to me

Taking a Break and Cats Watch TV Too [02 Feb 2005|01:29pm] Here are my two February,Valentine-Baby-Birthday-Cards for my LJ pals who are born this month. Happy Birthday, February babies! I'll be coming around and giving them to you personally on your birthdays. I've been doing this for a few months now, I think, and I really enjoy it. I like finding and editing new images each month, then going around visiting my pals and catching up with them. It helps alleviate some of the guilt I feel for being unable to keep up with everyone's daily postings. I sure try, but with 750 pals it's pretty near to impossible to do. I love my buddies here, I really do, but trying to catch up with everyone and keep all of the names straight is so frustrating. I'm not willing to let go of anyone though, you're all so cool, and I keep hoping I'll be able to be the kind of friend you deserve. I have become more discerning about who I add back though, whereas before -- out of a desire to never hurt anyone's feelings -- I just automatically added back anyone who added me. I unintentionally added a lot of not-too-nice folks by doing this and I've learned the hard way that I need to be much more careful. The drawback to this new approach is that it takes me longer to add people back because there are always so many people coming and going that I get confused and I want to visit each new journal and check people out before I add them. With everything I have going on in my crazy, cluttered, busy life here, it can sometimes take a super long time before I get around to it. I am soooooooooo happy and grateful to be sitting here at home with nothing seriously pressing to do -- happy to have at least a few hours here to take it easy. I thought I was going to have to go to Mom's to deal with business matters, and was dreading it as usual, but neither Mom nor Tina could give me a straight answer on whether we were getting together today or not. Then just as I was dressing to leave, Tina called to say she was in a rush, and wanted to leave early so we rescheduled my stuff for next week, yahoo! I actually have a lot that I should be doing, but I so want to just lay here for an hour or so and try to catch up on rest, that I just don't care. My body is begging me for a break... In my annual personal challenge to see every nominated film in every single category, I finally saw Maria Full of Grace, which was so well acted and directed, and so sad. I can't believe that we haven't seen Ray yet, shhh don't tell anyone, it's embarrassing, but I'll buy the DVD and then Beau, Scott and I will watch it together at Scott's house soon. I'll catch you up on the whole Scott/Jacqui music drama thing soon. I've been avoiding writing about it. It's just too upsetting to go into right now when I'd rather be resting. The cats are getting a kick out of teasing me -- doing naughty things and then looking at me to see if I'm going to react -- knocking my things off the shelves, piling on my arms so I can't type, getting into fights, marking the blinds and cushions with their own personal scent, and changing the channels on my TV. I'm watching The West Wing but they want to watch Judge Mathis, obviously the whole Emmy-nominated, Zoe Bartlet kidnapping episode, that I've never seen, isn't as interesting to them as bickering white trash...wait, speaking of bickering, I have to go break up a cat fight, yikes, be right back. I bought, a, new -- book: about; punctuation, (because we), all know? I need. help in this area", -- it's about a panda who Eats Shoots and Leaves. Oooh I think maybe I told you about this before; between the Fibromyalgia, Interstitial Cystitis, PCOS, Hashimoto's Syndrome, ADD, super sensitivity and chronic lack of sleep, my life is a constant slice of deja vue pie. Queer Eye For the Straight, GIRL? Why? I mean, why girl instead of gal? If it's Queer Eye For the Straight GUY, why isn't it gal instead of girl? It isn't Queer Eye For the Straight Boy. I just heard that my dear ol' friend Jen, theolive, here on Live Journal, had a leak/flood/roof-cave-in right over the closet where she keeps her expensive, precious, hard-won, Edwardian clothing collection. I feel sooooo bad for her and wish I could do something to help her out. These clothes are so incredibly expensive though, if I were lucky enough to find a piece for her, how would I know if it were the right size, and even then, how could I afford it. When things like this happen I so wish I had an endless supply of money so I could just wave a magic money wand and ease her pain a bit. I know it's just stuff, but I love my stuff, and I know how much these things can hurt. Speaking of hurt, my friend Atra had another one of her severe migraine attacks last night. When this happens she is so sick she lays on the floor of her bathroom, getting up just to throw up, for hours, waving everyone away, while simultaneously crying and begging them to kill her. God, I wish there were something I could do, and this happens every month. I've bought every kind of herbal supplement and over the counter drug I could find for her but she needs to go to the doctor, stand up to him, and insist on his giving her some serious medication. The last time she went he told her to take Tylenol, yeah right, Tylenol for unbearable, unrelenting pain and constant vomiting. Well, so much for my little break, the phone keeps ringing, and when they stop, Tom Kitten jumps on them and steps on the redial button, the carpenter needs decisions made, Anna can't get anything right, the cats just won't take the strong hint that I don't want them sitting on my arms, and it's almost time to go pick up Beau, argh... 30 happy naked souls|speak to me

Palm Desert, Sky Captain, Early TV and My Mother, Donald Trump and Jude Law [31 Jan 2005|03:50pm] I wrote this last week when we were at our house in the desert. I keep doing this -- writing partial entries and leaving them unfinished, but I thought I might as well include this because it goes with the pictures I took -- I mean they belong together, the pictures of the trees and street sign by our house, and the things I was thinking, so I'll put it up now and then backdate it later : ) I love the names of all of the streets here -- so Moroccan. I just went out to the car to get my camera. Our gardener, Joel, who I really like, sprayed down EVERYTHING this morning including all of the door mats so when I stepped out the front door my feet immediately sunk into about an inch of dirty, wet, carpet, then of course I had to bring my cold, wet feet back into the house with me, along with a trail of brown, leafy, water that I had to clean up, because we're getting the house ready for our renters. We rent the house out once or twice a year to cover the maintenance costs and the property taxes. I just wish we could find someone with a vacation house in the mountains, in Hawaii, Mexico, on the East Coast, New York, New Jersey or by a beach somewhere who would want to trade houses with us so we could get to travel a bit more and stay places for free. It seems so wasteful to me that we have this gorgeous four bedroom house on a golf course in one of the best parts of the desert that sits empty for most of the year, there must be someone who would want to trade. I just don't know how to advertise it, or make this happen with people I can trust with our house. It was pretty rainy when I took all of these pictures but there were so many things in bloom and the trees were loaded down with fruit so I wanted to share some of these images with you. I never understand why gardeners can't selectively water things on people's porches -- they do the same thing at home -- wet everything down without even noticing when there is something there that shouldn't be watered like oh, say, books on the coffee table, or Beau's backpack, or something. I mean I know that when you're holding a running hose you can't exactly stop the flow of water, unless you have an attachment for it, but you'd think they could direct the stream a little more carefully. One of our orange trees They never seem to get that while a doormat might be able to handle the occasional weather, it isn't exactly designed to withstand the same kind of watering as say a plant, and that all of this lazy watering is not only bad for all of the outdoor mats that we have to keep replacing when they rot and wear out, but that it pisses people off. It's like a guarantee that each week one or more clients will silently swear to themselves, "Damn gardeners," as they step into a mushy sodden mat and then drag water and dirt back into their houses. What do you think they're thinking when they hose down every little thing in sight, "Hey, I get paid little enough as it is, you can't expect me to water carefully around your things. If you don't want them to get went, then move them out of the way." Or maybe they're not thinking anything like that, maybe they're worrying about their families or how tired they are and how much they want to hurry up and finish so they can go get lunch. I don't know, and I feel like a jerk for complaining about something as insignificant and petty as this. There was so much fruit that it was weighing the trees down and falling off unplucked. This rain covered lemon was just laying on the ground. Beau and our friend from Burning Man, Phil, got into the usual naughty, frustrated teenager troubles while they were hanging out together. They went careening around on the golf cart even though they promised to take it easy, and Beau, who was leaning out, dragging something along the ground, got tossed out when Phil made a fast and sudden U-turn. He's okay, just sore and I feel stupid for having trusted them -- stupid for having thought that a good talk would make up for their wild and wooly youthful lack of judgment. After that they ran off in the direction of the thumping bass that was coming from somewhere in the distance and had fun running around the golf course at night. Some time later they gleefully picked and tossed a couple dozen fat yellow grapefruit in the pool. Beau said, "We like the sound it makes when it hits the water...and the splash." Our grumpy, conservative, old folk neighbors weren't too happy about this when they came out in the morning for their water aerobics class, and naturally I made Beau pick them all up with me. He didn't understand what the big deal was and I felt like a poor parent that he didn't just get that it's not only uncool to do to the pool, and inconsiderate of the neighbors, but a waste of food when there are people in the world who would do almost anything for just one grapefruit. But I did wacky stuff like this when I was a kid -- wackier, if you can believe that -- and it's a fine balance you have to walk as a parent between teaching values and being heavy handed and shaming. When like countless other parents before me I said, "Who do you think is going to clean this up for you?" He said, "Whoever wants to." Sigh. Beau and Rosa's son Jose, or Junior, are watching the copy of Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow that I rented yesterday. I never saw it when it was out and you'd think I would have rushed to see it, given the actors and the special affects, but somehow the trailers left me feeling cold. This movie is undeniably, dazzlingly beautiful but at it's heart it's a bit formulaic and cold. I should have seen it before this though because it has so much to offer. I had boycotted it because I was being stupid. I love movies. I am madly, passionately in love with the art of filmmaking, but as much as I love digital animation and can appreciate CGI, I worry when anything drastic happens in film. I'm a big frightened baby when it comes to change and I don't want film makers to work actors against blue screens in order to save money on locations and for the thrill of the amazing special affects they can create when they work this way. As much as I love art, working entirely in blue screen is too much of a sacrifice, too much of a trade off. Once we start drawing everything but the actors in a film, how far of a step is it until we're drawing all of the characters as well. I worry that we'll draw actors out of work and we all know there is little enough work for the number of artists wanting to work in this medium as it is. Conspiracy nutter that I am, I saw the future filled with computer drawn people and digital special affects with voice work outsourced to Canada or even generated by computers and I hung back and boycotted the film. I worry that actors, directors, casting directors, cinematographers, costume designers, editors, grips and best boys and girls -- all of us, will be consigned to the dust heap of cinema. Yeah, what about craft services. But sadly I can see that while some of this may be true, I was mistaken in having denied myself the experience of seeing this film, and in not supporting it. I think it's a beautiful sight to see, serious eye candy, and it's definitely my loss that I didn't get to see it on a big screen. It's like a little boy's 1940's futuristic dream of marching flying robots, a world saving action adventure with a noirish love story thrown in. There's a scene in the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow in a phone booth, and the super dark, almost black lipstick she was wearing reminded me of a story my Mother likes to tell: Back when TV was a brand new thing, there was a man who owned a big Cadillac dealership in downtown Los Angeles near the freeway. His name was Tommy Lee, at least that what she thinks it was, and he owned a radio station that he used to promote his car dealership. He was successful and wealthy, and before anyone had televisions in their homes he had this crazy idea that he could use TV to publicize his car business, so he bought a television station and would broadcast from his lot. He was desperate for content so he would put pretty much anyone and anything on that would keep him on the air. At some point he got the idea that models in pretty dresses would be a good thing for his little station so he got Mom to come on down and be the MC for a fashion show of her clothes. She was young and pretty and the models looked good but she didn't have a clue what to do -- she was so shy. They put black lipstick on her and then they would push and pull her on and off camera -- someone standing just off to the side would grab her elbow just out of the shot and yank her off. That must have been so funny to see. My Grandparents wanted to see her on TV, but no one owned one back then, so they went to the Brown Derby on Vine to watch her there, because they had a brand new TV in the bar. So there you have it, that's what I think of when I see black lipstick, not Halloween or Goth culture, but Mom being shoved on camera and yanked off, years and years ago. God, what I wouldn't give for a copy of that. Someday I'll write this into a film or include it in a story about her life, as long as no one reading it here steals it first eh? Hey, don't laugh, you'd be surprised how many producers troll journals and blogs for ideas, especially the dream journals. I've read conversations about this between writers on line. I once accidentally pitched a story to a producer in an elevator and it turned into a major film, same title and everything, I just know it developed out of that initial conversation. Watching the movie I was reminded of this kind of telling comment that Donald Trump made in the issue of Vogue that has Melania in her hundred thousand dollar Dior wedding dress on the cover. While flying with Donald, Melania and Andre Leon Talley -- the editor of Vogue -- on Trump's private jet, the writer wrote this interesting little bit; "Jude Law is nothing," Donald says about the man who just pipped him to the title of Sexiest Man Alive. He says with genuine bafflement, "I don't get it. He's got nothing." Everybody on the jet nods in agreement—in Melania's case, with a sparkle in her eye. And last but not least...a rainy ornamental pear tree. 18 happy naked souls|speak to me

[30 Jan 2005|01:53am] Yeay, I'm back on. Thanks for your advice everyone. Turns out it was the weird hotel modem thing I was using because I'm home now with the wireless DSL and everything is fine, phew. I edited some pictures for you. Here's Tommy at our house in the desert. He was playing in a plastic bag from Bed Bath and Beyond. Can you believe how big he's gotten? He's not my baby any more, sniff, sniff. Tommy is a wonderful pal to cuddle with. He's getting more used to me and will let me snuggle him. He's such a sweet boy but he is turning out to be a major yarn ball thief. Here's Malibu on my bed in my bedroom in Palm Desert. You can see a couple of knitting projects I was working on. He's getting more used to us now too. At first he was shy and standoffish and now he just walks up to me and flops over. He's still a little jumpy around sudden noises though. One of my favorite Malibu behaviors is the way he'll walk right up to my face and demand kisses. He'll just rub and rub my face until he gets some kisses and then he'll leap away and play with whichever cat is handy. Speaking of Malibu, I just saw an article in some tabloid rag I know I shouldn't be leafing through, but it was so funny. There was this huge photo spread with a long article about Britney Spears getting treated by a psychic healer in Malibu. It was the same guy who Susan and I met the night we got Malibu. It was so weird to see her sitting there the same way I was -- hoping this guy really had it -- that magic, that power to work miracles and heal you. I wonder if she felt the same way that I did afterwards, kind of let down and cheated, confused, and wondering if I just wasn't getting it, or if the guy was a totally self deluded nut. Boy, I'm telling you, if you have any kind of woo woo service to offer the wealthy, empty, lonely and desperate, Malibu is the place to do it. Don't you just want to smush this little guy? I'll put up some more pictures of lemons and the garden tomorrow. I don't want to overwhelm you. Big loving hugs, Jacqui 27 happy naked souls|speak to me

Help, My Journal Is Acting Hinky!?! [28 Jan 2005|10:29pm] Man, I'm so frustrated, I can't get my journal to recognize me. It keeps telling me that my journal name and password do not exist. Is someone being mean to me, is this an act of God/Goddess/Mama Nature, or is there something going on with Live Journal? I don't even know if I'll be able to get this post through. Wish me luck, eh? I just want to catch up on wishing all of you Happy Birthday individually, and I wanted to share some newly edited pictures and stories. I've been to the known issues page and nothing like this is listed. I even tried to submit a support request but I couldn't even do that. Oh well... 6 happy naked souls|speak to me

[25 Jan 2005|02:20am] Hi Everybody, I've been meaning to post my writings but I think I just needed to take a couple of days off to deal with my feelings. Thank you all as always for your unfailing support. I love you all so very much. You are all so wonderful and kind. I love you. I'll update soon. I just need a little more time. Things are okay, Scott and I are working things out. I just feel like my molecules have been rearranged and I'm confused and hurting. One of the hardest things about this for me is that he did something so totally out of character, or well, it doesn't look like it was that out of character since he actually told me that, "Everyone lies when they're backed into a corner," so I'm having to try to make sense of this -- to fit the idea of who I thought he was with the person he actually is, and that's what's leaving me so confused. When you base a big part of the love you feel for someone on certain basic understandings of who they are and then find out that you're wrong, it's pretty shattering. You see I've been here before, I've been hurt and badly, but with my ex at least I had some inkling of who he was, with Scott I thought he was so incredibly ethical, someone who just wouldn't lie, ever, and I'm getting how blind I've been, how unwilling I was to look at how often he had lied and chiseled in certain areas of his life and how of course if he could be dishonest about this one thing, he could easily be dishonest about others. I'm just really hurt and sad, and while he is saying all the right things now, and is being apologetic, who knows how long this will last, or when that flip side of his personality will kick back in, defend his actions again, and take away any gains we've made. My sweet little cat Miss Fuzzums died. After bringing her back with CPR she hung in there for a day and then had a heart attack and left us. I'm feeling sad but okay about it. She was always ill. She spent her entire life with a seriously clogged up, dripping snotty nose and I think she is probably happier not having to be trapped in her ailing body. We really did everything we could for her, even the vets will tell you that, so I'm trying not to go through the usual guilt shame cycle, but I can't really help it, this is how I'm wired. I always think there must have been just that one more thing I could have done for her that I didn't. I'll miss her sweet personality so much. I'll miss her fur and I keep seeing the way it looked around he mouth and nose, the way it kind of swirled around there, in my mind. I keep remembering her rubbing against me and wanting to be cuddled, but I know I'll see her again in my dreams and when I leave my body. It helps having Tommy and Malibu here with us, takes my mind off the sadness. We also lost one of our rescued ratties who just passed away in her sleep last night. Again, and I worry this might sound really detached and dispassionate, but I'm not that surprised or broken up about it. She was a wild and frightened rat who bit me more times than I can count. She was afraid of people and grabbed at our fingers when we would try to give her treats, wouldn't interact with us at all, (which is not big deal, I loved her anyway), and she was getting on in years. I'm glad lived a good long life and left peacefully, without suffering or taking us all through a long drawn out illness with dozens of vet visits and forced medicating. I hate having to give medications to the rats, it seems so mean to force them to swallow antibiotics, but I'll do it. I'll do pretty much anything for them. I guess I feel guilty because when Anna called to tell me that one of the rats died, I prayed that it would be this rat, my least favorite of the four remaining rats we had. I really love my crazy, people shy, super unfriendly, completely bald, blind rat, Sticky Pinky and I'm glad I get to be with him for a little longer. Loving animals, and well, loving anyone, can be so hard sometimes... Since I'm superstitious and believe that things happen in threes I'm a little bit worried. I won this dress of my Mom's on Ebay. I don't post pictures of them anymore here until I'm certain I've won them because I don't want anyone to bid against me and drive the prices up any more than they already are. This one went for a ridiculous amount of money, mainly because the seller did a super good job of photographing and describing it. I think that red flower, that doesn't even come with it, really helped sell it. Here's another one of Mom's dresses. It's really unusual to find two good ones so close to one another. I find about four or five of my Grandmother's dresses every month, but my Mom's weren't made as well. They were inexpensive and weren't the kind of dresses that people saved, so they're harder to find. Rosa went home to LA to be with her daughter who may be giving birth to her baby tonight. Rosa is nuts and has done some really crappy things to me but I don't want her to be apart from her daughter at a time like this so I persuaded Mom to let her go and I'm still here in the desert taking care of Mom until Rosa can get back. She took my collection of Mom's and Granny's dresses back for us because the gal from the Art Deco Society needs to select the dresses for the fashion show and take their measurements. I'm just praying Rosa won't steal some of them. We wouldn't have had enough room with all of our luggage and things, even using both of our cars, to take them all home. I'd thought about renting a U-haul but then I just decided to risk trusting Rosa. We'll see... I walked in on Beau masturbating last night, that was fun, not. I just acted like it was no big deal, I don't want to scar him or create some kind of weird sexual memory of his Mom catching him wanking, so he has no idea how uncomfortable I felt. He's been sleeping in the living room and was up late looking at porn on the net and well, you can imagine the rest, yeeee, major discomfort. We had a real light breezy talk about it today and that was about it, but I've still got this image stuck in my mind. Maybe this is what it felt like for my poor Father when he came home early one day from work and caught Robby and me making out in my room. We were so scared we just ran for the bathroom and left all of our clothes scattered all over the bedroom -- so embarrassing. I had a dream last night about the ocean, scuba diving, and a hummingbird perched on my face that was licking me. Hummingbirds are my Father's totem animal so when I see one or dream about one, I always think he's trying to make contact with me, and it makes me happy. We'll be heading back to LA tomorrow. I had wanted to make two Valentine's scarves to sell, and a batch of ATC's but all I managed to do was roll up the color mixes for the scarf and knit about half of one. I did tear out a few things for my cards and I took pictures of some of the oranges, lemons, tangerines and lemons that are hanging heavily on the trees here. Okay that's about it, I need to try to get some sleep... Big hugs, Jacqui XOXOXO 31 happy naked souls|speak to me

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