happy weekend
first and foremost. it seems i was a bit vague in yesterday's cheetah post.
my tongue is still in my cheek dears. no, i did not really want that cat for my wedding.
maybe him. but not cheetah.
moving on......
sometimes this is my idea of dreamy.
but then i get a glimpse of those grey-green, blue, in just the right light, eyes of my hh, and my fantasy world resembles a scene more comme ça.
a little coffee, conversation, and confidence (pronounced "con- FY-dence"-let's not lose our minds).
soon my inhalations take on a greater depth, and that awful tangerine noise machine i have inside my body, soothes into a misty mint green.
the clouds and i waltz anew.
happy weekend.
hermit by choice
i'm constantly chided for my hermit like tendencies.
what people don't realize is that instead of hiding behind my front door amassing an enviable lint collection and a law & order library to rival imbd; hh and i also work excruciating hours on the routine.
i'm only showing it once so that you copycats respect our simple, modest piece.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9BqgrhHhQE&feature=related]
sorry for the camera bumpiness.....priscilla was filming.
happy weekend
what are your plans for this weekend of remembrance?
hh and i have our swanky-pants wedding where we'll attempt grown up games.
then i'm hoping for the rest of the weekend to resemble this vignette. (i'd even pay extra for the hair).
http://vimeo.com/9720243
this is a little shoot shirley manson and elijah wood did for oliver peoples sunglasses. it looks like the perfect weekend.
clicking my champagne glass to you friend!!
wedding weekend
hh and i have a fancy schmancy wedding weekend.
i've never met these people. nonetheless, i will still bawl like a hungry baby once i hear that first note of pachelbel. it lumps me every. single. time.
funny though, i didn't have canon d at our nuptials.
ah! squeak! twirl! swoon!!! i walked to this.
what to wear ?
i'm on a spending freeze.
but hopefully closet has something which swishes and swirls and plays well with sparkly.
hope you have a shimmering, shining thursday loves!
image: can't remember where i found it, but would definitely get me out my spending freeze.....
california dreaming
good morning sunshine.
my lips still yearn for creamy, coconut, costa rican cocktails, but my california palms sweetened out their span extra wide today.
welcome home!
work recommences. alarms are reset. vitamins are taken (again).
i didn't bring home a tan (spf 800). or souvenirs (the beasts don't need any more shot glasses).
i did bring home a hunky hubby whose a little less eyebrow furrowed and a little more sillier in spirits.
for me i haven't figured it out yet. i'm rested, yes.
but i feel like i forgot to bottle up the peace piece of mind i had found underwater last week.
i get caughtupinthemomentandiforgettosaveitforlater.
i'm going to find sometime today to go back out with the palm trees. they seem to have the right attitude:
wiggle waggle in the sunshine, open up your arms to all!
happy monday.
a geisha says "goodbye"
silly girl who wrangled her hh's elbow away from the computer as he locked in a 7 day reservation.
one week?!??! so looooooooong?!?! baby i'll never survive.
body thrown against the floor, fists and feet pounding into the hardwood, tantruming out a compromise of 4 days instead.
hh got his seven days. i got a bruised tibia.
he's back at the computer again, i'm a cricket on his shoulder hoping he'll mistake a button or so, and denature us into costa rican citizens.
i can feel the despondent three year old awaken in my belly as hh gets that suitcase out for us to pack.
the 34 year old is starts to plot another spectacle (maybe public this time) where i slobber & fit my displeasure at the nearing departure.
this longing to stay away is new for me. i'm sure delta is surprised they haven't heard from me this time trying to arrange an earlier flight home.
those first words from our driver, "costa rica, here. we don't have a military," induced my first non-shallow breath for months. i'm somewhere where i don't need protection. i can be loving and nice and trusting. no monsters.
from then on my week was baked in thick turquoise and gold. sleep so deep, screened porch furniture would change places during the night's storms, but not a hair on my head would be unmoved from when i laid it down ten hours earlier. sometimes eleven,
hh. well our meals were more like tournaments of laughter. we start with the giggles. move into snorts, have a little guffaw with tea, and then end in full on bend over our chairs soundless hyena hysteria. no wonder we always got the table outside.
adios costa rica. hola california.
popsicles poolside
i exhaled any last remnants of grief into the bottom of the pool this afternoon.
my toes are now webbed from the time spent eeling and dolphining my way back and forth under the bridge from hh's chair to my secret alcove of imaginary fish friends.
splash splash all day long. swimming away from all the monsters back home.
just like it's impossible to sneeze with your eyes open, i'm incapable of swimming without grinning ear to ear; especially the deeper the water. maybe that's why the "adult pool" suddenly morphed into the "katie pool" as the day passed.
no bother to me. such a pity the others are missing such a wonderful underwater party. everyone looks beautiful and feels weightless subaquatic. we i just bounce around all day with my own personal snuggly undersea trampoline. i make floppy flips, splashy backward somersaults, shimmy out a number or two from grease 2, and bee-bop to the steel drum band at the bar.
utterly exhausted. a respite: drying out under the cabana for rest, reprieve, and re-fueling for the afternoon's repeat sessions.
start to notice though there weren't any patrons for the latter performances.
hmmmm? maybe next time something more recent, like teen witch?
bringing home silly for souvenirs.
accessory for summer is the uncontrollable giggle.
if you don't have one, get thee one now!
mandatory.
sultry nights
rum, rum wherever you are. rum away from all your fears and cares.
languid meals lit by candles. slow motion camera as he lifts his wine glass from table to lips.
pinot noir smiling out the corners of his mouth.
pinot noir kisses when the waiter isn't looking.
legs curled under my hips fashion a sofa into a love seat.
how silly of us not to eat with toothpicks at home.
here, can i offer you another plantain dunked in honey, honey?
misty rain calls for bare feet; no matter how pretty your party dress may be.
the wet tiles are still warm the day's sweltering heat in the shade.
off to dream under a swirling fan, in a pitch black room, listening to thunder and waves bowl for strikes.
sublime.
alex owens goes to rica
this is how i appear to hh after 3 mojitos.
i, on the other hand, am having a grand time with apricot ice teas. no sweetener.
it's raining today. loud, hot, aquamarine rain.
costa rica doesn't have a military. they have rain. rain commands presence and pomp.
it's a rain which beckons my hands overhead, and ignites me into a prance fest. i prance round, round and round in circles; my stringy, long, black hair whipping me in the mouth and face trying to catch the wet, disco beat.
bystanders and patrons watching, mouths ajar at my audacity and ability to shimmy shoulders so saucily right and left. a writhe that can only come from japanese/irish genetics.
it's my way of thanking the rain gods for the welcome pour.
tomorrow i plan to make good on my promise of a poolside interpretation of jennifer beals' "what a feelin".
anything to keep the gods happy. it's just my way. nothing says pleasing your creator like crawling on fours in a bikini.
happy monday.
bottoms up
yes, that is a banana daiquiri, and yes, i have the palate of a 16 year old trapped in the body of a 34 year old.
{they apparently don't carry fuzzy navel wine coolers at this hotel} losers.
i'm trying to move into the art of devil may care for the next seven days.
one thing about costa rica, as peaceful and serene as it is, it's also louder than rock-a-billy concert.
birds don't chirp, they lady gaga each other from nest to nest; traipsing their dance party from dawn to dusk amassing more participants as the hours progress. the birds of costa rica remind me of the club kids in ibiza: moving from one foam party to the next; high on sunshine and blue sky.
the insects i cannot see, but i'm sure if i could they'd be wearing oliver peoples shades and wicked cool tokyo black vests. they provide a techno base so strong and pulse rockin, the flower beds beat in steady unison across the property. palm fronds and birds of paradise bang their stalks to the left...to the right. every so often i can make out "comfortably numb" in their buzz.
lest we forget the belles of the ball: the monkeys. ballgown shaped tree tops shake and shimmy across the skyline, as the playful primates swing and sing from branch to branch announcing their arrival. always crash landing, breaking shit (vines), but rebounding the fun with a little hands in the air, two-legged hop hop to get to party re-started.
my toe taps in participation. a little head bob side to side, maybe some shoulder swagger once the rum sets in.
breathing in, breathing out.
this crazy, sick, lovely, lucky life.
how dare i?
off to get high on some mango scented air.
happy weekend
dears, what have you planned for this weekend?
in an effort to disburden my doldrums i will be dusting off the ol' beachcruiser.
the wind wafting my hair wispy; i'll coast, standing upright, legs locked, eyes closed, head held pertly up to the sky so that my body can sop up as much breeze to skin action as possible. like limp ranunculus needing the sun to survive i'll be stretching my stem as far as i can out of my vase.
even more fun is when hh joins me, and we ride to our favorite neighborhood cafe for greyhounds and truffle fries. we'll flirt madly, stuff ourselves silly and pedal home like puppies. 
maybe i'll try wearing a fancy dress too. bikes and ballgowns?
you never know what silly combination can dry a tear. these days i'm up for all kinds of crazy.
love. love. love.
weekend round up
bowling, braids, beverages (of the adult variety) and boys.
does it get more fun?
it does.
calico kerchiefs on freshly groomed beasts.
vanilla shakes shared with a steady.
weather so warm play time wraps while the grass is still wet.
an afternoon nap. a blanket of beasts. windows open to the bouncy boats on the bay.
that cup of coffee showing she loves me.
this echoes through the house this time of year. one can't help but smile sweetly, and wish love for others when listening to such pretty music.
and if you can...stay the fuck away.
fancying you the finest week ever m'loves.
dreamy weekend
i had a horizontal weekend.
bliss.
any free moment was spent with favorite reclined in reverie.
books were finished and started.
our trees are full of baby birds! windows stay wide open and tv's stay silent: their loud, sweet, springtime song fills our house top to bottom.
the jasmine i planted last year opened her eyes yesterday. even priscilla lingers longer on the now perfumed patio.
this is what i choose to see, smell and hear.
happy monday loves.
click image for source
embracing my inner betty draper
i'm a sucker for casseroles. love! love! love anything in an 9 x 9 baking dish. put a can of cream of mushroom soup and some dehydrated onions......i'm yours forever.
luckily hh shares my obsession for all things creamy, noodle-ly, and rectangular. his favorite is tuna casserole. i'm always trying to fancy it up a bit (sometimes that just involves wearing heels as i make it from a box though).
last night i made (from skeeeeee-ratch) the most delicious recipe from bon appetit's march issue. here's how it turned out:
leeks, celery seed and dill gave it a little glamour.
the mounds (i added SO much extra) of gruyere, gave it a european, let's savour this bite a bit longer, verve.
the crumpled salty potato chips made it 60's fabulous.
here's the recipe again.
with the exception of the cheese, i followed directions exactly. i went balls out on the gruyere. for the potato chips i used organic salted kettle brand.
still licking my lips.
the things i'll do....
dear me how i love that hh o'mine. let me count the ways.
for months he's been wanting to behold all things blue-faced, 10 feet tall, and sapiently humanoid.
in 3-d no less.
i have thrown out every excuse possible:
swine flu
christmas
new year's
i'm too sad for haiti
olympics (brandi?)
i'm too full from a cupcake binge
i hate james cameron and it kills me to give him money
blue faces don't go with my outfit
i've stalled this outing forever. i was still hoping hh would come to his senses, and remember we don't like movies like this. wasn't that part of the whole courting process? netflix nights where we'd watch documentary after documentary. he seducing me with his cerebral cortex and matinee idol good looks. me gushing over his mismatched, bare bachelor apartment, shaking my head at ridiculous other girls whom might care about decor and design (this still makes me giggle).
where did avatar fit? did he not know me?
bribing me with an extra hot latte (he knows me) we set off for the 3:30pm saturday showing. we sat, for what seemed all of lent, and watched a silly story with amazing special effects.
hh was happy. happier was i who still gets giddy from holding my husband's hand in a dark movie theater.
off i go
goodbye weekend. good riddance to pity.
nothing like a visit with adored aunt charla to send the scary sadness away.
grilled cheese and homemade lentil soup help too.
new week. fresh start. favorite detests the mopey; he's always commanded a certain dignity. a characteristic his two siblings consistently and miserably fail to supply.
i ferociously ride into this headwind of hurt with my heart lifted high, shoulders square, wearing my sincerest smile.
i get to love.
that's not just icing. that's icing and rainbow sprinkles.
click image for source
in my skin
i've checked my birth certificate; it says orange county. i've been to therapy searching for possible memory repression; nope, i've lived in southern california my entire life. then, why tell me why, is san francisco the only city in the world where i feel like i'm in my own skin?
hh and i took off for the weekend. and as always i felt like i had come home.
home to cooler temps, higher buildings.
art in every cranny.
sunlight glistening all things glossy and brilliant.
people embracing all religions and faiths.
our favorite hotel, understated and elegant.
with a spa tranquil enough to tame your toughest tension.
i think i used up all three canisters of that green tea shampoo and body wash....sorry.
goji berries, walnuts, and a tonic prepped me my go to therapist, gary reyes. i see this foot master every time i'm in the city.
this is where i fell asleep post massage. i'd like to think i reposed like a fairy princess (think aurora): lips pursed, forehead smooth, ankles crossed, toes pointed. but let's face the facts. it was a 90 minute massage. i was most likely snoring; i woke up with drool on my pretty frette robe, my face had massage table ring around it, and my hair resembled tumbleweeds from gary's fantastic grand finale scalp rub.
i did manage to pull it all together for a dreamy vietnamese meal with hh, where we shared bo bia and cassava corn ravioli. super romantic. i cried i was so happy.
we always talk about moving. but we've got such a wonderful life where we ARE. full of the BEST friends and family. if only we could transport them all up north.
happy weekend
hh and i are in the city for a little bid'ness and family-ness.
i'm not about to let the rain and wind damper my inner tatianna sorokko. i'm embracing street glamour, even if i freeze.
these are inspiring me.
here's to you having a glossy weekend.
