I love variegated roses and plants. Someone stripped us of our red/white roses so I was happy to see a new batch blooming today, yeay.
I took my Mom to a St. John fashion show/luncheon that was cosponsored by her country club today. Ordinarily I wouldn't go to this kind of thing but my Mom really needed a companion to take her, and she doesn't want to be seen as being as dependant as she is on Rosa, so naturally I went along for her. It seems like the least I can do for her is to get up super early, shower and stress over my appearance, try on several different outfits, because I feel too fat and weird in the St John's dress/suit I finally settle on wearing, put on a ton of makeup, and blow dry and style my hair to her exacting standards. Yech.
I was really hurting today, my Fibromyalgia has been acting up, and it isn't easy trying to be conservative/perfect for Mom, and all of her super snobbish acquaintances and friends, but in the end I always find that despite the fact that I get incredibly uncomfortable and uptight in these situations, (because Lord do these women scrutinize each other), there really are some sweet, intelligent, and interesting people to meet, and hey, what's not to like about watching ultra-skinny, gorgeous women waltz around in clothes you can't afford while you eat food that they can't.
I wanted to include pictures of the fashion show and took my camera along with us but they said nope, no camera for you, and I wound up having to leave it in the car.
You should know that I can never conform completely so I'll always tweak whatever I feel forced to wear with Mom by doing something to differentiate myself from the herd. With Mom I can't get away with too much so I just overdid it with the pearls. I wore something like five or six double strands and it was a nice surprise that I wound up getting so many compliments on them. I felt a little like Star Jones bragging about her Payless shoes when anyone would ask me where I got them and I'd just say, "Ebay." But the best part came when I was standing in the valet parking line and I figured out that these two wealthy Japanese ladies, who had been staring at me, were talking about my pearls. From what I could make out they seemed to be saying, "Oh look at all those pearls she's wearing, like Chanel." "Are they popular again?" "Oh yes. I must begin wearing mine again."
I get a kick out of making my Mom's friends laugh by teasing them and saying semi-inappropriate things. When one of the models came out in this wild pink suit, the jacket cut down to her waist without anything underneath it, the women looked stricken. So I teased the lady across from me, who was wearing something in a similar color, by telling her all she'd have to do to look just like her would be to undo a button or two. Then there were the ladies who pointing to my Mom said, "Who is that lady in the pink. I've seen her somewhere before." Okay maybe I was a little quick with the, "Oh that's my Mom, you probably saw her at that Oriental massage parlor," but at least it keeps things lively, otherwise I'd nod off.
I was so bored that I befriended a couple of the gorgeous models who were walking around, and we chatted and gossiped about our favorite reality television shows and celebrities. I've been indulging in escapist reality TV fun by watching The Bachelor, The Apprentice, and America's Next Top Model, and who would have guessed that they were too. One of them said that the Sarah who got kicked off on the last episode of the Bachelor, the really pretty blonde who was just a little too full of herself, is one of her best friends and is actually super nice and nothing like the way they portrayed her. And the other gal said that one of her best friends is a first class flight attendant for a particular airline who saw Brad and Angelina making out big time about a month ago on one of her flights.
I heard on the radio today that they were making so much noise in bed, at this African resort where they were staying, that the management had to be called several times to ask them to please keep it down. I just wonder if any of this stuff is true. It's hard to ignore a coupling as exciting as Brad and Angelina, while at the same time feeling sad for Jennifer for having to hear about all of this. I remember how ragged and hurting I was when Robby fell in love and left me hanging. I can't imagine what it would have been like if I couldn't go anywhere, if I couldn't turn on the television or the radio, without having to deal with stories about how in love, how hot and heavy, they were. And again I have to remind myself that I have no idea what happened, for all I know Jen might have decided to become a cricket breeder or liked orange shag carpet too much for Brad to be able to live with her any more, I mean who knows. I do think though, that as a woman, my arms naturally want to wrap themselves around the women in these sorts of situations and maybe that's unfair.
Poor celebrities. I mean I know they are profoundly lucky and blessed in so many ways, but I do truly feel sorry for them in that they are so relentlessly hounded by the media and stalked by paparazzi. Driving down Wilshire on our way to the fashion show today we passed Barneys and there were three guys with cameras pressed up against the windows trying to make a buck by taking pictures of whatever famous person was shopping inside. I read that the person who took the real pictures, (as opposed to the doctored ones that Star put on their cover), of Angelina and Brad walking on the beach together, was paid ONE MILLION DOLLARS! That's obscene. I guess it's because of these kinds of things that I never update the celebrity sightings community that I started here, and I think I may look for someone to moderate it for me. I might have to do the same thing with my Broken Hearts journal and the very unpopular although well meaning Did You Tape That? I'm too conflicted about the first one -- I feel guilty enough when I indulge in gossip here -- and I just don't have the time for the other two : (
I've recently seen at least two stories about people who woke up from comas, one -- a fireman who had been in a coma for ten years, and the other a beautiful young American-Asian woman who was supposed to be profoundly brain-damaged, whose doctor's did not hold much hope for her recovery, and who recovered to such an extent that she was able to graduate near the top of her high school class, and is now a sophomore at UC Irvine. I haven't forgotten Terri Schindler-Schiavo and even though we aren't talking about her as much, and her story seems to have become a forgotten flavor of the week, I still think about her and feel so sad and sorry that she was never given the therapy she was meant to have, and that she was killed and torn away from her family.
It turns out that the television show I was telling you about a couple of weeks ago isn't going to work out after all. Sadly I still can't tell you anything more specific about it for two different reasons, one because it's a pilot and I feel like it's uncool to give away the details of a baby project, and the other because it would have involved my having to make a decision about whether I wanted to involve someone who doesn't want to be involved.
This is what most of the pictures I took today wound up looking like.
I had what I thought was a productive photo shooting day and was sadly disappointed when I saw what I'd shot on my computer this afternoon. I've just learned that the portrait mode on my camera is probably not the best mode to shoot macro in. And I thought I had some really good shots of roses and kittens for you. Oh well.
Don't these guys look like they're having a real intense conversation. I wonder what they could be saying, "My poop doesn't look anything like that banana shape Oprah was talking about." "Really? I'm doing okay, but I could probably do with a little of that wheat grass she sometimes brings us."
Here he is getting kiss-attacked by the bigger kitties, hee hee.
Beau's birthday is the eleventh. He wants a laptop and a comfortable desk chair. Mom will get him the laptop, cross my fingers, and I'll get him a good chair. I haven't planned a party yet and am sort of worried about it. It's a little hard to Keep Up With the Jones when they do things like invite the whole class to a concert at The House of Blues and rent Hummer Limousines for the kids to ride in. I guess the ol' moon bounce, petting zoo, and a magician isn't going to cut it any more, heh. I think I should just count myself lucky that we don't have to plan a Bar Mitzvah or a Quincenera. I just can't think of anything that his class hasn't done before. Hey, I know, maybe I could find a hydroponic weed farm, take the kids on a tour, and then take them all to the Beverly Hills Gun Club for a little target practice at the firing range. I mean that's what they'd like ; )
Our computer problems never seem to come to an end; our wireless connections are iffy, and the computers keep breaking and getting messed up despite the firewalls, pop up stoppers, and antivirus programs. It makes me want to switch back to Macs but we can't afford it.
Aren't these the cutest little kittens in the world? They'll get cuter as they develop. Can you see what I mean about their having been taken away from their mama too young? Poor little guys, their eyes aren't even completely focused yet.
This scary show on television is talking about end times and the Book of Revelations. Hmmm...let's see, we've got Michael Jackson and his child molestation trials and tribulations, there's the whole Brad and Jen and Angelina thing, Paula Abdul may have had an illicit affair with a contestant on American Idol -- oh horrors -- and Tom Cruise is dating Katie Holmes, maybe these are the end times.
I guess all of us Buddhists, Jews, Catholics, and Muslims aren't going to get sucked up along with all of these right thinking Christians in the rapture. It looks like there'll be a lot of us left here milling around on our own. Hey, maybe I should finally learn how to play Bridge. Puhlease, can you imagine a God who would only open her arms to people who worship her in this super specific way? I thought it was all about free will and loving thy neighbor. You know I make fun of all of this while at the same time preparing to die with a great big begging of forgiveness just in case. I've been able to practice this a few times before surgeries and during turbulent flights.
My beloved Jake the Pirate Cat, my one-eyed, sleep-on-my-pillow, number-one-favorite cat, is in the hospital. He'd been having trouble breathing and I was worried about him. I took him in last week, but I didn't think the vet got that something serious was going on when he just sent us away with the usual antibiotics, so I brought him in for a second opinion today. It turns out that he has megaesophagus, which basically means that his esophagus has lost muscle tone, and he may need to have a feeding tube installed. Shit! Piss! Damn! : ( Send prayers his way will you?
Okay, well, I'm off to see if I can salvage a few pictures to edit and put up for you.
Big weary hugs,
PS: The nice gal who rents my old bedroom at my Mom's house started a charity, Lollipop Films, that brings movies to sick kids in hospitals. I talked to her yesterday and she was so happy that she had managed to pull off this miracle for a dying fifteen year old boy. His doctors only give him two weeks more at most : ( He's a huge Star Wars fan and his mom had told her that he's just been hanging on so he could see the movie but no one thinks he can live that long. So Evelyn, our tenant/pal, was able to get George Lucas to release a copy and she held a special screening just for him. Isn't that wonderful, in a really sad and tragic way?
Big kitties, little kitty.
"I can't take you seriously in a baby tee-shirt." Ryan Seacrest to Simon Cowell on tonight's American Idol : )
This is Legs, she was born with club feet but one turned around and she can walk fine now. She's got that same beautiful curly fur that Curly and Curly Girl have.