Confessions of an Addict

The first month of this new year is on its last legs and I have slept in my own bed, in the year 2013, seven times! If I hadn't pulled out a calendar and actually counted the days, I would have guessed a lower number. And even though this current incarnation of "my" bed has only been mine for four months, I really like it, and I miss it when I'm away. It's a futon actually, on a raised and slatted platform, and my pillows (just two) are like little rectangular clouds under my weary head, so I get this whole firm and comfy-cozy thing going all at once. Add to this my organic cotton sheets, my handmade quilt (every inch of which was lovingly sewn and quilted by my second-oldest sister) and my extra blanket made from recycled saris, and you've got a pretty darn dreamy, sleepy-time adventure. So why, pray tell, when I'm nestled all snug as a bug in my proverbial bed rug, am I now pining away for something as silly as...television?

We don't have cable here in Casey in California's home in the Valley, but three out of the four homes I've slept in the other twenty-four nights this year, sure did. Philosophically, I'm not a fan of having a television in the bedroom, but man, I surely have enjoyed it -- philosophical viewpoint aside. It's sort of decadent, no? Burrowing into your nest for the night with the soft glow and low murmur of an old black and white movie in the background. Or the welcome company of a beloved film you've seen so many times you can recite the dialogue, word for word. Even just a well-worn anthology that feels like family or a long lost friend.

Ah, who am I kidding? Heading back out to the dez this morning which means woohoo! Project Runway tonight!

My January Daze

Have I really gone twenty-two days without posting a blog entry? Has this month really been that busy? The short answer is: yes.

The holidays are a distant blur and right after those wrapped up I flew to Baltimore for a ten-day visit. Even that seems like it was months ago! I spent every minute of those ten days hanging out with Jack and my family and my friends and watching some amazing kids play some badass rock and roll! Well, every minute except the 1,440 of them I spent having a stomach virus instead, but other than that, it was a good visit. I like Baltimore...let me rephrase that...I like my people in Baltimore and I like some things in and about Baltimore. Like the kid I saw in Hampden playing outside, hopping down Chestnut Avenue on his pogo stick. I mean seriously, where else but in that neighborhood are you going to spy a kid on a pogo stick? That's something to like, I think. And my people, I do like my Baltimore people. I miss my Baltimore people. I even had good weather while I was there. Which can be hard to come by in January in Baltimore. It was a good visit. Celebrated my mom's 89th birthday. Watched the Raven's win - twice! Made it through a twenty-four hour bug. Got my hair did. Got a new tattoo. Got to see my kid a lot. Spent some quality time with my family and my bff K and the X and my dog and my SLBC. And rocked out at eight (maybe nine, I lost count) SoR Baltimore shows in three days! It was a good visit. Exhausting. And illuminating. And confusing. And sickly. But good!

It was good to get back to Cali though, too. My bed and my stuff and my California people. I unpacked, did a few loads of laundry, and repacked, because three days after I got back from Baltimore, I dove straight into a twelve-day puppy sitting gig in the dez. Good work, if you can get it! The weather's been great. The puppies are adorable. The house is cozy. The friends are fantastic. And the hot tub is, well come on, it's a hot tub - in the winter - in the high desert - how do you think it is?

Although it's been busy and hectic and even a little unnerving, I can certainly think of worse ways to spend the month of January.

Run, Rabbit Run

Ah, the holidays, here and gone. I’m a bit thankful for the swiftness this year, though. Christmas and New Year’s 2012 had a little more heartache than I would have preferred, but they will ultimately be remembered for time well spent and time spent well in one of my favorite places with some of my favorite people.

I was driving from the desert back to LA yesterday, deep in thought about the year past and the year ahead and contemplating last year’s mantra, unfold. That was a really tough one for me. I do tend to try to make things happen, instead of letting events organically unfold, hence the year’s intentions. In retrospect, I recognized lots of times I was not as successful as I had thought I’d been, incorporating the concept into my daily life. As always, I had my iPod on shuffle and turned up to eleven, and as I was beating myself up about when and where I could have done better, a song came on, that on almost any other day I would have skipped, but for whatever reason, yesterday, I let it play:


Breathe, breathe in the air.
Don't be afraid to care.
Leave, but don't leave me.
Look around, choose your own ground.


And I realized, I just need to take it a step further. And I remembered a word that had resonated with me a few months ago, when I saw it painted on the side of a barn, in that favorite place of mine.

So this year’s mantra is similar to last’s, but maybe it’s just a way of giving myself a second chance. After all, that’s what New Years are all about, right?