Driving...

Weaving through traffic.
75, 80, 85mph...faster.
Buzz of the evening, a taste on the lips.
Quicken the pace, chasing Jaguars down the 10.
Bright orange street lamps and white halogen lights.
Pulse quickens, push faster.
Tempting fate, the rush of speed.
Exhiliration. A lover's kiss, touch....
The same feeling, but asphalt and metal.
Techno beats thumping, pushing the tempo.
Death or life at a second's notice.

My friends are awesome...here's what that means.

I feel like I should explain my last post.

You know those moments where your friendships go deeper? I'm not talking about when they mutate into romantic feelings, oh no, don't misunderstand me. I'm talking about when you finally realize and express how much this person's friendship means to you. These moments, for better or worse, are usually made easier by alcohol (the expression part, anyway), since it's hard to be quite so sincere and unabashed with your friends when you're sober -- you end up feeling a little, well, Hallmark-y.

Anyway, I had one of those moments last night with a friend of mine.

And I'm not discounting romantic relationships, either, I'm just saying sometimes that friendship bond feels really amazing, and it's enough.

the last "man" standing

Fingers shaking.....

Body cold....

Heart warm -- why are these connections so hard to come by?


Why does it take alcohol to uncover these things? Not love, respect. Not a cheap screw.....lasting FRIENDSHIP. Deep and true and lasting. Better than whatever "love" is. But is love -- on a different level -- no romance, just value. Until 80, until forever.


I love the other -- compassion, passion, touching, closeness.


But damn it, I love my friends......

Jumping on the Bandwagon

Thanks to this guy, I now have a spanking new gmail account.

Come say hello, if you want: sandra.vahtel@gmail.com

I'll be slowly phasing out the msn account, but for now, I'll be checking both.

the short list

I was in the bookstore this evening, reading the introduction to Chuck Palanhiuk's collection of non-fiction essays. In it, he writes about loneliness and the downside of "proximity friendships," those people who we're friends with only because we're physically near them. He writes about the joy of discovering, for the first time, people whom he bonds with over common interests, common goals, common beliefs.

That got me thinking about the people in my life who make up what I call the "short list." These special few are more than friends -- they're touchstones -- people who, when I look back on the topography of my life, will be the peaks, the high points. These are people who came into my life and made a direct impact -- touched my soul and mind and heart in a certain way, a way that made me trust them instinctively, respect them, value them. And for a myriad reasons -- they came along at the right time and right place, they made me look at myself or the world in a certain way, helped me through a crisis, or made life so enjoyable, I couldn't remember a time without them.

Some of these folks are directly in my life now, some I haven't seen for many, many months. The memories and thoughts they conjure are bittersweet, in a way, if only because I wish they were all here with me, everyday, in the trenches. The lessons they teach me, I'll always cherish.

To those on my short list, this one goes out to you.

peeling layers

I feel like Annie Hall today. In the sartorial sense, anyway. I've got about five layers (yes, it's really five-layers cold, for this Californian, at least) on -- pink tank top, stripped polo, purple long sleeved t-shirt, green wool sweater and black overcoat. It's quite preppy, this look. All I'm missing is the tie and cute hat. I could have been ripped from the pages of an Abercrombie catalog, perhaps (oh wait, they don't wear clothes in those, do they?).

Vote Quimby!

The election is a week from today. I'm still waiting for my registered voter card to come in the mail.

So much has been going on lately that I'd almost forgotten. I'm to the point now that I feel it's not going to make much of a difference either way -- Bush or Kerry, seems almost inconsequential (did you ever think you'd hear me say that?). Still, I think it's pretty cool that I get to experience such an historically important event.

Irregardless of who you vote for (you Statesiders), be it Bush or Kerry or Nader (or Quimby), do it with a sense of pride, would you?

Who are you?

At my office, I work right next to a big storefront window. The glass is one-sided, so as people walk by, they don't realize there's anyone on the other side of the window.

As they come and go, they check themselves out in the mirror -- fixing their hair, checking their teeth. I love it, I get such a kick out of it, and not in a cruel way of laughing at them, but rather it gives me a great opportunity to sit and imagine who these people are and where they're going.

My favorites are the Vietnam vet who walks to the convenience store everyday with a limp, the two guys who sit by the bus stop, smoking joints and drinking beers wrapped in brown sacks, and the sad Armenian lady who stands outside the adult care facility across the street everyday on her smoke break.

She's really my favorite -- she's so sad -- she never calls anyone or smiles, she seems so lonely. I wonder why she's always so depressed. Maybe working with sick elderly people gets her down. Maybe she'd rather be at the Galleria, shopping at Fendi and Versace, or letting her big Armenian boyfriend take her out. Maybe she never thought her life would end up where it has, and that makes her sad. Maybe her grandmother has cancer and she's left to take care of her.

...

My roommate search is not going so well. I met with two potentials yesterday, and neither one of them really "clicked." Not that we have to click, necessarily, but I feel like it helps. But I can't freak out yet, there's still a few more days, and these things tend to work out at the last minute, don't they?

Photo blogging is on hold for now. I had to give back that digital camera, and Flickr won't let me upload anything until November, alas.

Okay, the "s" button is only working if I pound on it, so I'm gonna go.

Toes in sand

Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

I don't know what you lovely people spend your last days of October doing, but I get to spend mine on the beach.

My friend Larry (he's the guy in yellow there) is a sand sculptor. Not professionally (he works for the city), he's just a weekender who enjoys the meticulousness of working with sand and has paired his artistic expression with the scientific know-how to be able to build these intricate columns. There's quite a bit of detail on the other side of the sculpture, click on the photo to see more of it.

I'm tremendously glad to know people like Larry -- he's nothing like you would assume upon meeting him. He's an engineer, he's nerdy, he wears kilts. You'd never expect him to have such a sensative artist's soul.

Goobye Parties = Trouble

What do you get when you mix a goodbye party, one hotboxed Jeep, and a John Mellencamp sing along?

One interesting evening.

(Updated at 12:54pm)

And now for some details, since I can type now. Last night was my coworker Topher's goodbye party. We went to a popular watering hole called the Cat and Fiddle, in Hollywood (not to be confused with another bar called the Pig and Whistle -- I don't know why L.A. has so many bars with animals and musical instruments in their names...but I digress). Beer was consumed, and as the evening wore on, some folks thought it would be fun to go to this guy Tim's place and get high. Now, I used to do that stuff, but don't anymore. I went along anyway, because I didn't want to go home. Paul, whose Jeep we rode over to Tim's in, didn't want to wait to toke up, so here we were, hotboxing his car on the side of the road, with the cops a block behind us, giving some poor schmo a ticket.

After we arrived at Tim's, the usual after-party activities ensued. I hadn't been to that kind of party in a long time, and it was fun to 'let my hair down,' so to speak. I loved seeing my boss get fucked up, and it was great to see Topher one last time. And as for Tim, I should say, he COULD have been trouble, but nothing untoward happened.

Wasn't I just talking about this?

Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

I just got back from watching I Heart Huckabees with my friend Olivia.

Wow. I loved this movie. I didn't fully understand it, and I don't really know what to say about it. Ironically, I had a conversation about similar themes and ideas earlier today.

I'm not going to bother you with a plot rundown -- I don't have the patience for that -- many twists and turns and ins and outs. Billed as an "existential comedy," it dealt with themes of meaningness and connectedness -- is everything nothing or is everything everything? Is life a series of coincidences or fated? Is everything connected to everything else atomically, therefore making everything you would want or want to be, something you already had or were?

It delved into the reasons why so few are propelled to move out of what's "normal" -- out of their comfort zones -- to truly dig deep into what life means. To truly live life the way it was meant to be lived. Every character in the film is on some level of that journey.

David O. Russell, the film's director, obviously understands these concepts very well. That's my idea of a good teacher -- someone who has a grasp of an idea so deeply that they're able to distill it down to a very simple form so that many can understand. Russell does this by making the proceedings humorous -- and it runs the gamet from ridiculous physical comedy to this great highbrow stuff.

Ultimately, the film raises many more questions than it answers. But that doesn't matter, somehow. Not all questions need answers right away.
Enjoyable, yes. Thought-provoking, yes. Absurd, yes. Probably meant to be watched twice. Go see it, I'd love to know what you think.

What I could stand for

Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

After a way-late dinner of scallops and sauteed spinach, I'm feeling rather chipper. I know -- down, up, up, down. See, I only SEEM sane and even-keeled (or do I?) to you people. On the inside (whistles), it's a whole other ball game.

I have this digital camera now until Sunday. So, if anyone has any photo requests (good idea, T), holla. I'd be happy to oblige.

sweater weather

As you can see, I've been photo blogging as of late. It's been good to sort of let the pictures speak for themselves -- where I am, what I observe -- glimpses into my everyday routine.

It's pouring rain right now. I know I keep harping on the rain, but I think this change in weather is messing with my psyche. And I'm not talking about seasonal affective disorder or anything, I mean this type of weather always puts me in something of a melancholy mood. I mean, not that I mind feeling this way -- in fact, it seems appropriate for what's been going on right now. I just sit here and dream about curling up on the couch, watching French New Wave films. I feel like nesting -- I've been sprucing up my apartment like crazy -- new curtains, futon cover, hanging my photography up on the walls. Even my appetite's changed. Now I want warm, filling, flavorful things -- soup and bread and squash, things like that.

An aside...someone needs to come up with a new warm breakfast drink. I'm off daily coffee, and I don't feel like drinking tea everyday -- what else is there? I tried warming up some soy milk today, but that didn't turn out so well...

does this mean I get my White Stripes cd back?

So I made Laura (hobag) Muniz a mix cd the other week. I finally mailed it on Monday, so I feel secure now in posting the track listings that the surprise won't be ruined. Actually, I could have posted them earlier, because she never reads this...

Filthy-Gorgeous/Scissor Sisters
Shakin'/The Dandy Warhols
Kiss/Prince
Notorious/Duran Duran
Spread/Outkast
So What'cha Want/The Beastie Boys
Sissyneck/Beck
Portland Oregon/Loretta Lynn and Jack White
Right Here's the Spot/Basement Jaxx
Fame/David Bowie
Making Out/No Doubt
Suicide Blonde/INXS
Roxanne/The Police
Local God/Everclear
Truth or Dare/N.E.R.D.
Freedom/Jurassic 5
Get Em' High/Kanye West and Talib Kweli
Gett Off/Prince
Vogue/Madonna

I call it 'Dirty Glitter.' It's for those times that she's getting ready to go out with her friends, feeling a little saucy drunk herself, or for a good makeout session.

And I'm serious about that White Stripes cd -- you've only had it since MAY.

This was on my way to work

Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

I had a dream last night that Britney Spears died, and I refused to believe it was anything other than a publicity stunt. I mean, really, what else can she do at this point? It seems like some bizarre post-modern way of marketing yourself -- faking your death. I wonder why that hasn't picked up in popularity at all...

Vend!

Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

The best part of borrowing this digital camera? Night photography! I met my new neighbor Bill tonight. Seems like a nice fellow, complete with long hair and motorcycle leather. He said that if he plays his music too loudly, to just let him know. I'm guessing he's either a classic rock or heavy metal kind of guy. Anyone wanna take bets?

hello

hello
Originally uploaded by Saucy Suse.

Why eloping sounds like the better option

I spent the whole day stuffing wedding invitations -- not mine -- for a couple I know who are getting married on New Years Day. If you need any envelopes stuffed ever, I'm your girl -- I'm a well-oiled machine when it comes to putting five different pieces of paper into envelopes and then putting those into other envelopes. Watch out!

...

I wonder sometimes about people's motivations for having such huge, ornate affairs. It's like they get so caught up in that one day, they forget what they're really coming together to celebrate. Now, I'm all for marriage -- call me traditional, whatever -- I want the paper and the ring and the last name, and the bragging rights, oh yes. But I don't want a big wedding. I don't even know if I want a wedding at all, save for my family and a few very close friends (oh yeah, and the groom). I mean, is it an attention thing? Do people want to show the world a spectacle of their love -- something bright and shiny for others to be jealous of? Why not just be in love -- strongly and deeply and confidently in love -- and go about life walking a little bit taller, knowing in your heart of hearts that you're so devoted to this other person.

And maybe I just answered my own question. Maybe people think that a wedding day makes a marriage more real. Or maybe they just want a big party. And I'm all for a party...

Amazing

You know what's happening right now? It's raining!

I went outside and let it pour down over my head. I felt like Tim Robbins at the end of Shawshank Redemption. Free and clean. Laura, I wish you were here to prance around in the puddles with like we did behind the house in Texas.

God bless Southern California in October...

I suppose I should start knitting.

I'm having a mildly Cohen-Brothers-esque day today. You know those days where things here and there are not quite right?

I went out to my car this morning, and found that I had left the window open -- huh? I never do that, I'm always so conscientious to make sure it's all closed down and locked up. Maybe I figured I'd go out again after getting back from work, but then didn't, I don't know.

When I got to work, I found one of my coworkers hungover and wretching in the alley behind the building. Two aspirin, glass of water. I felt like I was back in school...

Then picture, if you will, me being propositioned by a 6'-4", 320-pound biker named Big Schwag -- a man with a mohawk, full of tatoos -- to come to his house and help him fit into some footsie pajamas. I don't know if they make them that big, do they?

Now, I'm dealing with my boss's dog, a whiney Cocker Spaniel named Sammy, who's wearing one of those plastic lamp-shade collars around his neck. The only thing is he doesn't know he has it on, so he still runs around like the dumb dog he is, bumping into things. Good thing I'm wearing pants today.

It's one of those days. I can't decide if I'm tired or energetic, hungry or full, cold or hot, giddy or grumpy.

On that note, I'll leave you with a joke I heard today (I take no credit for this one):



A cabbie picks up a Nun. She gets into the cab, and the cab driver won't stop staring at her.
She asks him why he is staring.
He replies: "I have a question to ask you, but I don't want to offend you".
She answers, " My son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."
"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."
She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2, you must be Catholic."
The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I'm single and Catholic!"
"OK" the nun says. "Pull into the next alley."
The nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.
"My dear child," said the nun, why are you crying?"
"Forgive me but I've sinned. I lied. I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."
The nun says, "That's OK, my name is Kevin and I'm going to a Halloween party."

pink slips

Hmmmmm....A lot of people I know have been getting laid off, lately. I heard last week that about four of my friends at the company I used to work for got their two-week notices. And today, I found out that my immediate supervisor (at my current job) got fired today.

I don't know how I feel about this.

Part of me is glad, in that he and I had something of a personality conflict when I first got here (imagine that, if you could), and he's not so adept at doing his job, either. He also had a very bad habit of delegating duties without showing any sort of appreciation, which doesn't lend itself to coworker loyalty.

Yet, part of me is a little sad, because after our initial tension, we did end up getting along pretty well -- he's a nice, well-meaning guy (sorta). I also don't think he's deliberately a bad boss, he just isn't used to it, yet. Maybe he hasn't had the chance to learn what he needs to learn. I can see how this might not be the easiest place to learn the ropes -- people aren't so helpful, sometimes.

That, and it's never fun to see someone get canned. It just serves to remind me that everyone in this industry has their head about two inches from the chopping block -- at all times.

Maybe we should all walk.

First order of business -- if you've seen the film Donnie Darko, go here and share your thoughts. My friend Annelies was...flummoxed, shall we say, by the whole thing and wants some feedback.


Secondly, when did gasoline get back up to $2.39 a gallon? What is everyone else paying (those of you who drive, anyway)? I remember freshman year of college it was 99 cents. I hate the either/or aspect of it. Either go out for a nice dinner with friends, or buy a tank of gas. Go to a couple of movies, or buy a tank of gas. Not that my budget's that tight, it's just frustrating because it's a cost that you can't cut out, at least not in Los Angeles, where everyone's so dependent on their cars.

I thought this post was going to turn out to be more substantial...



I'm off to buy a ticket for Dallas (yeah, I did decide to go).

playing catch-up

It felt like such a long weekend. Only the standard-issue two day thing (even though today is Columbus Day, but only bankers and government employees get to stay home), but it feels like it went by so slowly. I was able to catch up on things I haven't been able to do -- like cleaning the apartment really thoroughly, getting it ready to show potential roommates. And cooking -- I made this really fantastic beet salad on Saturday. I love beets, the earthy taste and the deep red color. You can even use the greens for other things like salads and sauces.

I caught the sunrise on Sunday, and I must say, I love them more than sunsets. Maybe because sunsets are a dime-a-dozen, but more than that, I like the concept of a new beginning that a sunrise brings -- it's optimistic, like the day carries with it all these new opportunities.

There was interesting news this morning when I read Christopher Reeve died -- Superman, wow. Can I just say I think it's utterly ironic that after all this brand new technology had kept him alive this long, it was something as basic as an infection from a bed sore that killed him. Unbelievable.

Laundry at Work

Laundry at work? Yeah, it's been one of those kinds of weeks -- not a moment to spare. I'm in between work projects at the moment, so I took my wash down to a laundromat a couple of blocks from here.

So, clean undies for the weekend, that's good.

Nina asked me last night if I would move in with her and her husband, Dan. They're considering moving after what happened this week, and since every place in L.A. is so expensive, they would need a roommate to cover costs. I predicted something like this a few months ago. Granted, the circumstances are a little different than I anticipated, but I told I'd like to, and to keep me posted.

Time to go load the dryer.

off caffeine

I love a good cup of coffee. That strong aroma, the bitter taste. How a good, strong brew will make your heart race a little.

Though, I'm certainly not a caffeine addict. I can go just fine without it, but I generally have a couple of cups of joe throughout the morning. However, the past few days, I've been sick and sticking to this really good green tea that my roommate left for me -- and it's decaffeinated.

I'm surprised how much difference it's made. I'm sleeping better, it's easier to wake up in the mornings. It has to be the caffeine, that's the only that's changed in my routine (food-wise, anyway).

So I'm starting to think that I should cut caffeine out completely. But what will become of coffee? I guess I could go decaf, but that doesn't have the same appeal, does it?

roommate match making

My friend Mike has taken it upon himself to find me a new roommate. Apparently, his neighbor is looking for a new place to move. I just received the following email from him:

Maggie: 310-***-2103
Sandra: 310-***-3620

2 bedroom, 1 bath near the corner of Venice & Lincoln.
rent = $1290 (for the whole thing)

Maggie is into math, cheese, maps of Westwood, website-making, and Brad.
Sandra is into photography, music, "the industry," and learning to ride a bike.

Sandra burned some CDs for me last night.  Today I will knock and ask to mooch Maggie's fax machine.

Mike

Crime Scene

Sometimes I forget that I live in one of the largest cities in the world. For whatever reason, I get lulled into a false sense of security, and I go about my business giving nary a thought for my own safety.

Tonight, however, that illusion was shattered.

I went over to my friend Nina's place after work. I was there with several friends, simply enjoying their company -- talking and laughing. Suddenly, we heard a torrent of shrieks and screams coming from the parking garage. I ran out to the balcony, and everyone else ran to the garage. Neighbors came out from all directions, one woman saying she was going to call the sheriff. Everyone's worst fears were realized when we found out that a woman had been assaulted and robbed while trying to enter the residence area of the building. The same man attacked Nina a few weeks ago, and no one can understand why he keeps coming back. I ventured to the garage, where the woman, who had gotten kicked in the head and had her purse stolen, was recounting the details of the crime to the police, blood running down her face. A group of about five men who lived there came back into the building. They had gone to chase down the perpetrator, to no avail. Paramedics and firemen came to the scene. Residents stood around in their pajamas and sweats, lamenting the days when the area was safe and quiet.

Understandably, Nina was too shook up to stay there alone, so she asked to stay at my place, where she'll safely be staying for the next couple of days, while her husband is in Seattle.

I don't necessarily get scared by this kind of thing, but I did, for a minute, want to be somewhere, anywhere else in the world tonight.

Home Coming Pros and Cons

The first weekend of November is Home Coming weekend at my alma mater, the not-in-the-least-bit-religious Southern Methodist University.

I was never much of one for school spirit, and I would never go on my own. but it was Annelies' idea, and I think I'd meet her and Katy there. Even my mother is getting into the game, sending me airfare information for flights from LAX to DFW. Apparently, tickets right now are less than $200. So, signs are pointing to yes. And I'd get to see Laura (AND Jennifer), thank goodness. But do I really want to venture to Texas just several days after the most critical election this country has ever had? Will they be smirking with the pride of a Republican win, or will I be able to walk around with a smirk of my own after a Democratic victory? Besides, there are other places I'd like to go -- one's I haven't been before. Should I be saving my money for when I might not have a job in January, instead?

See? This is why I have a hard time making decisions.

Good News/Bad News

Which do you want to hear first? Bad news, naturally...

I'm sick. As in the head cold variety. I felt it coming on this afternoon, the familiar itch on the roof of my mouth a tell-tale sign.

I can't stand being sick, I'm never sick. It's such a waste of time. I hate taking time off from work when I'm sick, because that just gives people more of a chance to give me a hard time -- for being sick -- which is the one thing I hate more than actually being sick.

Okay, enough whining...

The good new is that my parents got back from their trip to New York City safely. I was disturbed, however, to hear that my 65-year-old father got hit on by some barely legal Starbucks barista in Manhattan -- how dare she! Doesn't she know he's a happily married man?
It got my mind meandering down a rather unsavory path -- I began wondering what kind of woman my dad would date if he were not, as I said before, happily married. Would he date a nice, attractive, mature, woman of class? A divorced suburbanite who still drives her ex-husband's Lexus and has two grown kids? Someone who he takes out to dinner and dancing, someone who'll laugh at all his jokes? Or would he date the gold-digging younger woman? Some ambitious chickadee not much older than I am, with fake breasts and french manicured nails? Who he'd lavish with jewelery and expensive vacations?

Umm....neither one, thank God. My dad's too goofy, too down to earth, and too poor for all that. But that's what my mom loves about him, and that's the really good news.

Sore legs...

...are usually a sign that I've been dancing. Last night was no exception -- and salsa was the dance of choice. I've salsa-ed (salsaed?) before, when my friend Carlos taught me the moves a few months ago. I'm not much for dances that require actual steps. I'm more a fan of the flail-yourself-around variety, but I do like salsa, because you get to use your hips a lot, and you can't help but look good if the man is leading properly.

As I mentioned before, it was Nina's birthday, and in her words, she wanted to "salsa like a fool." Done and done. We salsa-ed under the stars at the Music Center Plaza in downtown. Christmas lights twinkled on the trees and paper lanters glowed above the dancefloor, strung between statues and sculptures. And the music -- the music was bright and bubbly, as it tickled our ears on it's way to dissipate into the ether.

The whole thing was quiet romantic, really. I totally forgot to call Carlos this week and invite him -- not because of any romantic ruminations, but simply because the male/female ratio was not so good, and well, you can't salsa by yourself. I did share some moves with a guy named Matt, but he had to leave when his friend came, alas. Nina and several guy friends had to suffice as dancing partners, but this girl was not able to tear it up like she'd wanted to. But that's okay, because baby needs a new pair of dancing shoes, anyway. The ones I was wearing last night were pain-ful, and the heels were all wonky -- I probably would have ended up on my ass at some point.

Still, it was a fun night. I accidentially took Nina's camera home, but it's okay, since I'm seeing her later today, anyway.




Accompanying music: Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong/Gee Baby Ain't I Good to You?