thoughtsandtimes-blog

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

Rooftop in DTLA

Around midnight, I found myself in a stranger's hot tub on a rooftop in downtown Los Angeles. His apartment was on W 5th Street on the top floor, and we took a winding metal staircase up to the roof which was decorated with string lights and candles. I took my heels off, stripped out of my clothes, and got in the hot tub with my friend from college. The air was cool and the water felt great. We were joined by the two men we met a few moments earlier; one recently finished a gig in New York. I looked around at the high rises of downtown Los Angeles that sweetly reminded me of New York and at the speckled sprawl of East LA's lights. I couldn't believe this was my home.

We talked about New York, drank beer, took tequila shots, and passed a smoke around. Our bodies glistened in the glow of the string and city lights. I felt so alive. The closer I am to the sky, the more wild I get.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

Did I Know of Any Other Places to Go?

I bought us shots and they tasted like chocolate and coffee. We were pulled onto another dance floor by an invisible force, something like light or love or lust or youth or cool stuff that happens to you only sometimes. There were so many people around us, bumping and pushing and moving. She pressed into me and we started to dance. We knew what we came there to do.

We danced for hours. People watched but I didn't care. Smoke machines blasted us underneath the strobe lights, and it felt like being caught inside a cloud during a lightning storm. I threw my head back. The wind from the smoke was cool and I lost sight of her in a haze of gray and flashing white. I could still feel her dancing on me, so I knew I hadn't really lost her. I decided that in that moment, I knew what it felt like to be alive.

She pulled me out of the lightning storm because it was getting too crowded. We ended up by the DJ booth. I was really sweaty and she was really soft. Strange men were close and tried touching and talking to us, but I didn't see their eyes because mine were closed. I don't know how it happened, but either I kissed her or she kissed me. Or maybe we kissed each other at the same time and our lips met in the middle.

When I was a kid, I somehow learned that when you kiss someone, you should close your eyes so they know that you mean it.

So I did, because I meant it.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

Skinny Dipping in Southern California

I went skinny dipping for the first time in years. It was 3:30am and I was in Pasadena with someone I met for the first time earlier that night. The pool water was cold and the air was colder. We tried to be quiet by suppressing our laughter and splashing, but I think we were pretty loud. No one in the surrounding apartments complained or moved, though. A man came out in a white bathrobe to walk his dog, but that was it. We sat on a deck chair afterwards and watched haze roll over the full moon. It was beautiful and so was she.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I'm going to this on Saturday and am very excited. I love graffiti art, the culture, and the whole street art scene. I've never been to an expo like this, and I've been in the mood to do something artsy, so this is perfect.

LA friends: care to join?

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I'm a cowgirl and I listen to this song as I make my way around the wild, wild West.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

If You Want to Know Me

Its sentimentality, deepness, honesty, and innocence is beautiful. I like to think the way I live my life mirrors some of these qualities. This style of storytelling is my favorite. Over the years, I've discovered that I have an acute appreciation for the simple portrayal of a complex world on a screen. I've also discovered that my boss represents / represented clients who produced the series. Now that I work in the business myself, it feels like this all has gone full-circle for me.

Thank you, thank you for telling this story. I better get to telling some of my own.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

[Tech]nically Romances

1. Romance in texts 2. Exploring potential love in instant messages 3. E-mails with someone who you're dating/have dated/might date 4. G-chat = "we're talking" 5. Facebook private messages 6. Facebook chat 7. Flirty tweets for the world to see 8. OkCupid nonsense until you deactivate, reactivate, repeat 9. The constant switching between any of the above romantic dances for no apparent reason

You could say I'm a product of technology. I say I'm a romantic and enjoy being courted by the written word. And perhaps that I have no idea what I'm doing.

Tomato, toe-mah-toe.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

To My First Love

I'm writing this now because it feels good. In case you didn't know, I'm so thankful that you loved me for those youthful years. Every kiss, every touch, and every nice thing you ever did for me still means a lot. I remember when Obama became President and we missed the celebration on the quad because we were kissing -- for four hours. I remember in high school a boy told me it was possible to kiss someone for that long, but I didn't believe him. Until I met you, of course. You showed me what it feels like to really be kissed. Thank you for being that person.

I'm lucky to have been the object of your gaze for those years. I know what it feels like to be madly in love and to love madly. You opened up to me about family life and let me see you cry. I'm happy that I was able to be that person -- a listener, a rock, a supporter -- in your life for a little while. You did the same for me; you held me when my grandma was dying, didn't make me feel stupid for being a coward about death, and helped me be brave because our break up was a death. You started to crack me open about emotions and being comfortable about loving someone, and while you never fully broke through, you started the transformation. Thank you for those moments.

I saw you before I moved away last summer. One of the last times, I hovered above you in your bed at your new apartment. I always liked the way you decorated your bedrooms. You were very organized, tidy, and loved personalization. I looked around your newest room and saw a few things I recognized: a stuffed animal that you've had since you were a kid, a stuffed animal that I gave you sophomore year of college, and a stuffed animal from the girl you dated right after me. I was surprised that you still had the stuffed owl I gave you, because I threw out the turtle you gave me.

I told you I found an E-mail you wrote to me back in 2009 or 2010. You started writing it at 4am and finished around 6am. The E-mail was all about how you loved me, things you wanted to do with me, and how your life was better because I was in it. You remembered instantly and your eyes got watery. When I told you that I hadn't deleted it still, you asked if it'd be nice to read sometimes. The E-mail was nice and I did hold onto it until a few months ago. I didn't need to save it, because we weren't supposed to be saved.

I don't really know what happened after that, except that you fell in love with someone new. I think you look at her the same way you looked at me, so that's good. I think this because we had a conversation about not settling for anyone who couldn't top what we gave each other. I hope she loves you right.

As for me, I'm wild and have hope to meet someone like you again. Wild is good to me. There's no such thing as wild enough.

About a month ago, I wrote to you asking if you were happy. You didn't respond. I guess that was your way of telling me that we don't talk anymore. Along with losing love, we've lost touch. It's pretty sad, really. I suppose that's how first loves go. 

I've told you a million times that if you ever think of me, I'd hope you'd reach out. Not in a get-back-together way, but just in a way. You nodded each time I told you that, since words were never your thing. I think I still mean it; it would be nice to know you're my friend.

I have to go now. If you're still reading, thank you. And thanks for being my first. You'll always be the first, but you weren't the one.

I'll remember you.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I bought my tickets to HARD SUMMER. Downtown LA is going to shake and break this August. I went to one night of HARD'S DAY OF THE DEAD last October, and it was fantastic.

I can feel that dirty drop already.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

Psychedelic storytelling at its finest. Season 1 has been added to my Netflix instant queue.

Groovy.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

If I was starring in a romantic drama, this song would play over a montage of my lover and I playing on a grassy hill.

Royksopp -- "In Space"

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

Movies About Art and What Happened After

I drank red wine while I watched Lisa Cholodenko's HIGH ART (1998) and then a documentary called OUR CITY DREAMS (2008). They were made 10 years apart, which I thought was cool. I liked the documentary more because it was about five female artists with ties to New York City. This one artist cut a star into her abdomen with a tiny blade. Another made yarn portraits of lesbian lovers. During the film I started looking up contemporary art galleries in LA. I found a couple I want to visit.

After my back-to-back feature, I cut an onion. I cried, which is something that hasn't happened to me before while cutting an onion. Tonight was my first time. I wonder what made that particular onion different.

If you know, please tell me.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I saw a late showing of THE LORDS OF SALEM on Friday night. For a $1.5 million budget, it's okay. I thought about what my life could be like if I pursued a career as a radio DJ. It would be bad if I received a wooden box with a vinyl record of scratchy sounds created by witches, so it's probably safer that I don't.

A girl can still dream.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

A Self-Report

I went to the gym today because I spent yesterday eating a lot of junk, drinking lite beer, and filling my lungs / skull with smoke. Surprisingly, I didn't feel any repercussions and was able to run without wheezing or dying.

All of the windows in my apartment are currently open. I like to air out my life sometimes. It's so pretty today. The place doesn't smell like pizza, smoke, or lazy youth anymore.

I almost went out to a bar last night, but I didn't. Instead, I watched CLUELESS and TINY FURNITURE on Netflix with a friend from college. It was great, but I did fall asleep for maybe 15 minutes during CLUELESS. I woke up for the scenes with Alicia Silverstone, though. Also, Lena Dunham is perfect to me. I'd like to meet her someday.

I listened to electronic, trance, and ambient music for about 9 hours yesterday. It was nice to relax and listen to sounds. Although, I was scared for a moment when my friend said she saw a man standing outside of my apartment with a police uniform in his hand. He held it up to her face and said that he was going to work. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not, but I decided she was serious. My hands shook for a few minutes but then I relaxed again. No worries.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

You faded away into the sky, and I felt good about being blurry.

[I took this picture in Beverly Hills this morning].

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I want this on repeat in my brain. The cover art is perfect, too.

[thoughtsandtimes-blog]

I Went to a House Party

We listened to a lot of rap and EDM. You could hear the music from the street. We danced around and on a coffee table that had been turned into a platform. I drank a few beers and dodged a few drunk strangers who apparently found their way into the house after drinking at the bar up the street. Another friend had cloves, and I smoked one in the backyard. We all stood around in a circle, talking about how cloves in the form of cigarettes or cigars (I can't remember) are illegal on the East Coast. I did remember when I accidentally kept a pack in my bag when I moved back East for my last year of college. Thankfully, I didn't get caught.

There was a light drizzle that fell down on us. It was lovely. I chewed gum after my clove because I didn't want to smell like smoke too much. I think some people stayed over because they drank more than they thought they would. I cringed at the idea of crashing on the couch.

Around 1:30am, I drove some friends home before going to Twain's for a pizza bagel. On my way back, I saw some drunk friends from the party walking in the street with open beer bottles. I started to roll my window down to make sure they were okay, but I figured they were just going for a walk since nothing in LA except Twain's is open at 3am.

I got back to my apartment around 3:45am and fell asleep. I didn't wake up until 1pm the next day, not because I was hung over like old times, but because I've been so tired from working a lot. I felt dumb for sleeping the morning away, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.