Pleasure Notes

Thought I’d take you on a little journey through my brain because, really, haven’t you secretly always wanted to go there? (Humor me by saying YES!) Here’s what’s taking up space at the moment…

• Is this cough tickling my lungs just my imagination, a chest cold, or pneumonia?
• How many dolphins will die as a result of the BP oil spill? Will the rest of the marine population hate us forever and plot a suitable revenge?
• Why does this country still pretend the aggressor is the victim in the Gaza flotilla tragedy and greater Israeli-Palestinian issue, and refuse to call a spade a spade?
• Will I ever get back in shape?
• When will I move past my frustrations with my mother?
• If I never sweep the floor, will the dust bunnies continue to multiply or reach an equilibrium, like goldfish in a tank?
• Will I ever enjoy a work of fiction as much as I enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society?
• Do I believe my financial situation can radically change?
• Will I regret it if I delete my Facebook account? What if I delete my LinkedIn account?
• Why won’t people stop telling me about great blogs I’ve missed?
• Why aren’t the FedEx and UPS guys who service my area ever cute?
• Should I rent The Cove tonight, for a good cry of frustration, horror and impotence?
• What should the next piece of jewelry I design for Noted Design look like?
• Why does my cat eat my hair while I sleep?
• Now that I know more about the connection between counterfeit products and human trafficking, thanks to Deluxe, will I stick to my principles and forego the next beautiful Chloe purse knock-off?
• Why does laundry never fucking end?
• Why am I letting my cough/chest cold/pneumonia keep me from grabbing coffee with a friend and heading to a BBQ?
• Why don’t more people refuse to go to war?

It’s a wonder I ever sleep, isn’t it? I think it all justifies my love of romantic comedies, however. Anything to shut off my brain…

Hope you didn’t stub your toe on anything, or get lost in the mayhem.

What would a tour through your head currently look like?

5-31-10

Whether you are celebrating in the desert or on the beach, up a mountain or down a rabbit hole, by the pool or in front of the TV, I hope you have a glorious Memorial Day that sets the tone for an even more fantastic week!

xo

It’s not what you think.

A few nights ago, I was lucky enough to venture through the gates of Hollywood Forever, a gorgeous cemetery in the heart of Hollywood. I meandered my way past gravestones, caged peacocks and an antique Rolls Royce, climbed the stairs of an old Masonic lodge, and bore witness to such glorious, inspired creativity that I am compelled to share my new musical obsession… Angus & Julia Stone.

If you’ve never heard of them, take a moment now to listen. PLEASE.

Their music is ethereal, idiosyncratic, poignant, profound, and just hell o’ gorgeous.

In addition, they are the most charming, Australian, brother-and-sister sensations I’ve ever heard. Not to mention, more talented than my simple mind can comprehend.

photo by Jen Castle

During the set to which I raptly listened, Julia blissfully played guitar, harmonica, piano, and trumpet in addition to singing with a clarity and emotional integrity that left me envious of her talent, honored by her willingness to share her gifts and hungry for more. Her brother, Angus, was equally mesmerizing while displaying his vocal abilities and skills on the guitar, harmonica and trumpet. He was charmingly bashful about the trumpet playing, since he normally plays the trombone.

SERIOUSLY.

via Jen Castle Photography

The concert was held in a high-ceilinged hall within the Masonic Lodge. Wooden beams criss-crossed above our heads, huge chandeliers dangling from their intersect points. Intricately carved, high-backed chairs lined the back of the stage. Lit candelabra augmented the magical essence of the space. Together, these details created an ambiance of suspense and intimacy that perfectly matched the energy of Angus and Julia. Three supporting musicians ably filled out their sound with drums, base and electric guitar on many of the songs, but the Stones earned all of my attention.

Julia told honest, amusing, rambling stories about a few of the songs. She also did this thing with her hands, as she grooved to the sounds she so transparently adores, that had me equal parts spell-bound and wondering why I don’t have the courage to do that when I dance in public. I completely understood her impulses. And I’d be shocked if fewer than half the audience members didn’t consider, at one point or another, whether they could bundle her up and steal her away to make her their best friend or lover. Any time spent with one or both of the Stone siblings would be utterly delightful – a flat out GOOD TIME. They were just that damn likable!

On a night when much of America was watching the outcome of the nation’s feverish 1-866 dialing skills and Simon Fuller’s marketing magic, I sat with a friend and a few hundred eclectic music fans to experience a level of talent and unbridled joy that uniformly took our breath away. I must thank my favorite (and only) radio station for making tickets available to KCRW members. And my lucky stars for letting me win them.

Now, I hope you take some time to explore Angus and Julia Stone’s music. I expect you just may fall in love with it as quickly as I did!

I am a hypocrite.

Yesterday, I had a wee ranting session about the toxin nature of gossip in the work place.

Today, I spent half an hour critiquing American Idol – past and present contestants, the lengths of Paula Abdul’s eyelashes, the doughy physiques of various old rockers - with my office mates.

And it was the most engaging conversation I’ve had with these folks in all the (two) months I’ve been here.

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Perhaps I am only a few episodes of reality television away from sniffing glue or buying a can of aerosol spray.

Advice?

For the past few months, I’ve been back in an office job, the kind that comes with cubicles, florescent lighting and gossiping co-workers. Yes, it has been a fairly soul crushing experience.

If only money grew on trees.

Or came more frequently and fluidly from the activities I do which feed my soul.*

It’s the gossip that bothers me the most. The tense whispers. The snickers. The HOURS of inane conversation about this or that person. It isn’t all negative, per se. But it is just SO MUCH CLUTTER.

I already have PLENTY of clutter, folks!

Debating for 45 minutes the size of a belt buckle some dude wore on a reality show does NOT improve my life.

Pointing out the flaws of those with whom we sat in a meeting does NOT improve my life.

Clearly, it entertains many people. Perhaps, I am simply too self-centered to understand its merits. All I know is, it exhausts me to overhear it, it bores me to engage in it, and it has the stickiness of oil on a feather.

Now, if someone wants to talk about the tragedy of oil on feathers, I will gladly engage. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be a topic of interest for the office gossip girls.

What’s your take on a little gossip?

***

*Never fear. I am, indeed, working on this being more than an “if only,” with the help of Chris and Danielle and all of you. But it’s all happening at an annoyingly GLACIAL pace!