Archive for the ‘corona del mar’ Category
Thanksgiving seasons
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’m sitting at the kitchen table of my parents’ house sweating my lady balls off. Everyone says there aren’t any seasons in CA however there are seasons in this house. It’s nuclear winter in my old bedroom and Dante’s Inferno in the kitchen. Those are some of the seasons right? My understanding is that these are the seasons:
Spring
Summer
Fall
August
Autumn
Winter
Winter Squash
Tennis
Cricket
Racketball
Blue
Seven
Dante’s Inferno
Gary’s Inferno
Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride
Nuclear Winter
Nukuler Winter
Fred Winter
Shelly Winters
Indian Summer
So last night I shivered into bed wearing sweatpants, socks, a nightgown and sweatshirt and then slept under a duvet and three blankets. I’m not even making this up. Now I’m in another room sweating. And I’d adjust the air/thermostat/air conditioning/what have you but my parents bedroom is not only another season but another time period entirely (Paris before The War, if you must) (basically the problem is that the whole house is set up so their bedroom is a toasty 70 or whatever they like it at, the rest of the house be damned) and I’m afraid I’ll broil them or flash freeze them or whatever if I adjust anything.
In other news, there is no other news.
Oh wait, well there is this. Remember when I took up biking over the summer? And then I got back to New York and borrowed Dustin’s bike and named it Ernesto and it’s currently sitting in my kitchen and I don’t ride it because it doesn’t fit me well? Well my sister’s bike which fits me better is here in CA and yesterday my mom’s handy man who is 6′5″ or maybe 6′8″ and helps put up holiday lights and remodels cabinets and removes dead rats and is like family to us told me yesterday he enjoyed watching me on TV to which I responded that I simply CANNOT live like this, having to interact with fans in my own home. Then I stormed into my room, put on a parka and began shrieking.
Anyway, he got the bike down from the hooks where it normally hangs and so perhaps I’ll ride it as a way to offset the junk I fear I’ll be smuggling in my trunk this holiday season. Tusks mostly. And those tiny turtles which are illegal but so adorable.
And thanks to everyone who joined in the live Ustream show last night. That was fun!
Video from when I played in a band on The Daily Alison
A bunch of you have been asking to see video from when I played in The Angoras so here you go. A few songs from a show we played at The Garage in Hollywood in 2001. I’m playing the sparkly silver Gretsch. Paula is in the middle and Yami is on bass. Tim was on drums. Paula and Tim still play music in bands. All three of my former band mates have been on my show. I miss them.
Time for a transformation
I woke up this morning feeling like I’m ready to make a change in my life—and by that I mean I woke up feeling… nay, KNOWING, that I want to change my ringtone. It’s time. I just don’t quite know what I want to change it to, and I’m trying to be okay with that emptiness.
In other news, last night I met up with someone I went to grade school with who contacted me on Facebook. I went to high school with him but have little recollection of it as he was on the football team and I was on pep squad and during rallies I was just concentrating really hard on splits and balancing and so there wasn’t much time to notice anything else. That was pretty much my whole high school experience: splits and balancing. But also I think I’ve blocked high school. I wasn’t really on the pep squad in case this is your first time reading my blog. What I do remember is that he and I were both in our 8th grade musical. Also he sat behind me in fifth grade. Now he’s married and has three children. I’ve been married three times and have nine children. The whole thing was fun but it made me feel old.
Then I saw Greg Wilson perform at a club in Times Square which was cool (he was really funny) except afterwards he kept trying to lick my face. I should have been wearing my bike helmet/man repellent.
More photos? Okay!
Know what time it is? It’s 7:42pm in California. Know what else? Time for another bunch of photos! Hooray!
Here is the Goldenrod Footbridge in Corona del Mar. I’m pretty sure I’ve blogged about it before. It’s my favorite footbridge and it doesn’t even smell like feet.
Here’s the beach.
More beach.
Stupid beautiful water and bullshit boats.
Another picture of the beach if you’re into that kind of thing.
Oh wait, this is a bundt cake that I baked for Yami’s housewarming party last night. Here are some photos of the time I made it (sans nuts) for my sister’s party.
And then here’s Yami and me at her party.
And here’s a description of Schindler’s List which I thought was funny.
I’m not sure if I can hear you
My parents have begun speaking in a volume that I’d put somewhere between a prairie dog burp and a mouse fart. Which is to say, I can’t hear them. The exception to this is in the morning when my mom is having an argument with Tobey. “Tobey, NO!” she’ll scream, the windows rattling. “Tobey, I said NO!” she’ll thunder. Then Tobey will bark a tiny bit and then I’ll stumble into the room groggy and confused and she’ll apologize if Tobey woke me up. Other than this one time of day it’s all hushed tones. At first I thought it was me and that somehow my hearing had been compromised on the flight. “Something wrong with your ears?” my mom would say as I cupped the sides of my head. “No thanks, I don’t like beer,” I’d answer. I was upset about going deaf but getting drunk wasn’t going to solve anything.
And so it went for a few days: my parents carrying on in a way audible only to dolphins, me wondering if I should get a manicure before learning sign language, until I stepped out of the house and was commended on my incredible hearing.
Huh?
You see, all of my Costa Mesa friends used to play in bands and so their hearing is fairly terrible. “That alarm is going to drive me crazy,” I announced a couple days ago. “What alarm?” asked a friend in all seriousness. “Are you serious?” I asked, because I hadn’t read the previous sentence. He nodded and I shook my head in response. Then I clicked four times to indicate a boat on horizon. “There’s an alarm going off in the other room,” I explained. “It’s quiet but it’s been going off for about an hour.” He left to investigate. “Wow, that’s a frequency I no longer have,” he said upon returning. “That’s a shame… but you didn’t turn the alarm off,” I responded. Then I punched him. He never heard it coming.
And then I was at a party with two friends. “Wow, how can you hear that?” they asked when I said that one of the friend’s girlfriends was in the kitchen asking a question about guacamole. “I don’t know, I was convinced I was going deaf,” I said. Then they tried to claim that the reason I could hear and they couldn’t was because of angles and where I was sitting in proximity to the guacamole question versus where they were sitting. I’m not sure if they were right or not.
And… and now I can’t hear myself think because the paternal mouse farter is talking loudly on the phone. Do they just save up their volume for phone calls and yelling at Tobey? Or are they trying to gaslight me? I feel gaslit. Gaslighted? Gaslain?
Problems I’ve yet to solve
I don’t know if my IQ drops by about 20 points when I’m at my parent’s house in Orange County or if I’m just tired from all the lying around but I’ve been sitting in this chair staring straight ahead for a while now and I’ve yet to solve any of the world’s problems.
Problems I’ve yet to solve:
Why are ducklings so cute?
Why do I have a headache?
Why is everyone saying Entourage was so sucky? (I thought it was pretty good last night)
Why do I gain 45 pounds every time I come to CA?
How did I get to be so wonderful?
What’s up with that?
How’s it going?
Where do I come up with these things?
No really, where
Why did I first want to write that my IQ drops about 20 “degrees”?
Am I actually going to make the phone calls I need to make or just keep thinking that I need to make phone calls?
Should I wear a sombrero to the party I’m going to tonight because I’m not loving my hair right now?
Or should I paint a very small mural on my forehead to distract from the hair?
Should I get up from this chair?
If there was some kind of device that would push me out of this chair would it be a chair lift? But not the skiing kind of chair lift, just another chair lift? I could get behind that.
So you see, I’m getting a LOT of stuff accomplished over here.
In other news, I think I may have written two not-very-funny jokes last night. Although they’re obvious enough that I can’t believe I’m the first to think of them. Yet unfunny enough that I don’t think I’ve heard them before. Shall we?
Q: What did the drug dealer say to the junkie?
A: “You gotta get right back on the horse.”
Another one? Ok:
Q: Why was everyone mad at the junkie?
A: He kept talkin’ smack.
Get it? I don’t know why my jokes are heroin based, by the way. I didn’t even eat poppy seed muffins or anything!
I suppose I should take a shower since I have to be somewhere in many hours.
Ok then.
Also, I’m having that neither here nor there feeling I often get when I’m neither here nor there. Like, I could easily stay out here longer and that would be fun. And yet I know my life is in NYC and so I should go back. But it’s so easy here except for the way everyone’s always throwing avocados at you and trying to get you to have plastic surgery. “No more implants!” I yelled, as an avocado went whizzing past my new nose. It was scary and yet exhilarating. In New York they just throw metrocards at you. Also, before I came out here I was in a huge screaming rush and so I left my apartment in disarray. I’m not looking forward to going back to the way I left it although thankfully I filled the ground with a couple feet water, plugged the holes, and released a few Koi in there because I find tropical fish relaxing. I just hope my neighbor remembers to feed them through the window.
affiliate.
