talent borrows, genius steals.

what can i say, i steal cool shit from the smart people.

blueberries...

the size of grapes. in a pie. fresh outa the oven.

mom's house smells like a giant hot melty buttered blueberry.

that's all she wrote. 

whaddup with this holiday.

we've got my gorgeous nieces & nephew, who are ridiculously smart, sweet, talented & silly-fab, but good lord, cannot let the adults have a conversation, not to mention sleep at night. ever. at all. & bless their hearts, but my brother & sister-in-law think that it's ok for the kids to loudly & continually interrupt a professional singer performing in the living room. & that it's ok to use outside voice at 6:30 in the morning. then we've got grandma, 2 months from 90, a bundle of anxieties, so far on edge without my aunt hilary & refining the art of criticizing every thing & everyone, plus re-mastering her already razor-sharp back-handed compliment skills... on her great-grandkids. & in finale, we've got the funnerest part of thxgiving: for the last 2 years, mom & i do the deep dive. last year, top 5 biggest fight EVER. this year, 2 hours of processing. oy. this is either going to make us the strongest, hardest-working mother/daughter team in history or put me straight into the loony bin.

oh yeah, & in less than 24 hours, my damn jeans don't fit.  seriously? aaarrrgg.

hm.

oddly, i need to bake another pie. 

being in sf. dad. & then some.

there are expectations of me in the kitchen. gotta make this quick (good luck, i'm soooo short-winded). 

here it is.

i'm sitting in the "entertainment shrine", my makeshift bedroom while i'm here in what was formerly known as my parents' house. now, just mom's house. but dad is everywhere. this room i am in holds his 2nd closet, where he stashed his things to have his own spillover space (mom has many of those). now a messy shrine to that spillover, where mom has started cramming more & more of his things that used to share the enormous, 2-sectioned dressing space in their bedroom. now i'm looking at piles of his clothes, 2 unruly stacks of underwear crowning it all. 1.5 years later, it's still surreal. it hurts.

my therapist says that what makes the grieving process + trips to sf so tricky for me is because i live 3000 miles away in my own little universe, i am not immersed in a day-to-day-life-sans-dad, in sf, in this house, where the memories of him are ubiquitous & thick.  it's not a gradual process of letting go for me.  i come here for occasions, most of which are laden with meaning for us as a family. holidays, birthdays, events... ok, maybe not gay pride.  

so when i drop in for my visits, i am overcome with the sharpness of his absence. i can't get used to it. i am not here in this house frequently enough to adapt like everyone else. & i hate it. i feel a little extra crazy. & i don't need more crazy. got plenty, thanks.

and now i have something else to adapt to. mom's new(ish, since late summer) boyfriend. initially, i had a pretty hefty meltdown when she  told me (via freakin email) about him. she'd scantly mentioned him before, but within 2-3 weeks, he went from from being someone she was maybe maybe maybe going to date to a man she had a serious connection with & they were a relationship. i mean, out of nowhere, some guy is with my mom & he's not my dad. it's weird.

don't get me wrong, what i really feel isn't even about mom or her bf. the presence of him in mom's life served as a catalyst to release the last dregs of my blissful, blessed denial about dad being gone. it was like he got gone-ER. 

& i miss my father. i want to rewind the clock. i want dad's vast vocabulary to fill the air. i want eat sushi at ino with him on tuesdays. i want to hear about the esoteric class he's taking. i want to tell him about something cool (or stupid) that i did. i want him back. but he's dead. 

but i also want my mother happy. for admittedly selfish reasons, when she's happy, she's less crazy/possessive/obsessive/competitive with me. she sees me.  but my own needs aside, i do just want to see my mother happy. she deserves it. her life was an arduous one until she met my dad. & nearly 45 years later, she watched the love of her life disintegrate over the last 5 years of his.  & while her life has been very fulfilling in innumerable ways before & since, my mom could still use that special brand of happiness that a partner can bring. this new guy makes her happy. 

now, here's the newsflash: new happy-man is coming to thanksgiving dinner. which apparently mom has known about for 2 weeks but failed to mention. at least to me. until she started talking to my uncle & aunt in the kitchen yesterday about how they could meet him here on thanksgiving (they are going to napa instead, not a bad option)...  hearing this, i had to ask 3 times in the midst of that innocent banter if the bf was no longer going to be with his family & was joining ours. mom talked around the matter for probably 3-4 minutes until i had to firmly establish that we are in yes-or-no question territory.  yeah. i'm meeting mom's new relationship for the first time, on thanksgiving, & maybe on thanksgiving mom was going to tell me?

which came first: the infantilized 40-year old child or the 40-year old who acts like a freakin 5-year-old? come on people, psych 101.

(hence therapy. whatever.)

i. am. emotional.

one of my dear friends in nyc gave me some good advice (too early) this morning. he said, in so many words but here with my own twist, that nothing & nobody will change a damn thing about my dad. can't. impossible. it's valid to feel whatever i'm feeling about dad but stop muddying it with all this business about mom's boyfriend. 

he also advised that maybe i stop calling this guy "mom's bf" and start calling him by his name, david.  huh. makes sense. 

DAVID. rip the band-aid off. 

potentially a new tradition is starting. me trying to be an adult. this could be good. still annoyed at mom but like i said, her happy makes a lot more happy go around. 

so i'm looking back into that closet of dad's, still full of longing. but adapting. knowing that i don't need to shut the door on it for any reason or anybody. & i'm eyeing a couple of t-shirts i'm going to bring home with me. but that's for later. now i gotta stop this writing crap get to the kitchen. keep that tradition going. happy effing thanksgiving. 

** as an addendum to this aggro bit of scribbling, i should say that david, my mother's friend, is lovely. and once i chilled out a bit (a.k.a. got over myself), we got along & were even spotted  chatting on the phone the following day.  

37.8% of my holiday wish list.

on one website.

http://noirjewelry.com/

good lordy lord, too much tough 'n' pretty sh*t in one place. 

someone find me a fainting couch now, please.

i really shouldn't sing.

oops. too late.

given the forthcoming performance via video, i'd like to say 3 things:  1) i clearly have no fear of embarrassing myself beyond belief.  2) i'd like to assure people that getting a microphone in my hot little hands & bouncing around to journey (or bon jovi, prince, blondie, the motels, bananarama, frank sinatra or madonna, etc.) won't happen again anytime soon... but i'd be lying. & i'm bad at lying. 

3) more importantly, i just want you to know that journey is a san francisco band. thank you.

big thanks to megan mair for a genius day/night & for helping me lose my voice to near extinction.

latest crave-ables.

lsd. baseball. what. awesome.

ze needs to just keep posting cool shit. that's all i'm sayin.

charlotte gainsbourg + beck.

Charlotte Gainsbourg - Heaven Can Wait from Charlotte Gainsbourg on Vimeo.

2 track mind mix.

the brief: old mix. remixed. completely stupid. pretty much my brain. 

which is simultaneously over- & under-stimulated. wtf.

the sitch:

i mean, let's be honest...

if this is how it is, i gotta get out of town. get inked. bake some pie. 

maybe start doing yoga. or punch a heavy bag. 

hormones are a bitch. 

if this is how my 40s are going to be, let's just open up a vein & be done with it. 

so yeah. old mix. remixed. very mixed up. very fucking stupid. ok & kinda hot. 

flower - liz phair

with me in mind (w/ sonja marie) - cody chestnutt

i want you - madonna

wasted - mazzy star

moon addicted - funkstorung & erik

gravitate to me - the the

spread - andre 3000

wet!wet!wet! - princess superstar

tent in your pants - peaches

a little bit more - jamie lidell

cactus - pixies

i need you tonight - inxs

cure for pain - morphine

lovers in the backseat - scissor sisters

pussy - brazilian girls

come get to this - marvin gaye

touch from your lust - ben harper

rub til it bleeds - pj harvey

fuck the pain away - peaches

touch me - spank rock

blindfold me - kelis

the donkey & the butterfly - stone fox

all the drugs - courtney love

just one fix - ministry

dr. feelgood - motley crue

panama - van halen

three days - jane's addiction

the drugs don't work - radiohead

something in the way she moves - the beatles

uh. so that changed...

turned the "on" button or something. fucker won't turn off.

go with it.

mix for last night.

because this is kinda how it went:

the last time - gnarls barkley

beggin' - madcon

you're not my girl - ryan leslie

magic - robin thicke

all i do - stevie wonder

get it shawty - lloyd

make her say (feat. kanye west & common) - kid cudi

the one (feat. drake) - mary j. blige

brooklyn girls - charles hamilton

money in the bank - swizz beatz

like this - kelly rowland

supa freak - aaron lacrate, spank rock & amanda blank

world town - m.i.a.

creator - santogold vs. switch and freQ nasty

fight the power - public enemy

tambourine - eve

stress ya - jadakiss & pharrell

apache - the sugarhill gang

empire state of mind (feat. alicia keys) - jay-z

deep thoughts for les hung-over idiots.

you know you're socializing avec le booze de trop when you write ridiculously poor posts w/ pseudo-expletives at ridiculously late hours. & wake up w/ le makeup smeared down your face. 

yep, time to tone down le lifestyle.

eff. i have

no idea what the eff

happened tonight. 

no one effing tell me tomorrow.

effing PLEASE.

because after this effing camera 

(which is 

on its last effing legs

and i've dropped for the effing

20,000th time)

effing tells me what the 

EFF

went down

i'll let y'all effing know.

eff eff eff eff eff.

did i effing make out with someone?

ew.

what the eff ever.

now eff off.

call with uk office.

what.evs.

work it out harder, babe.

haha. sorry t8.

isabella dreams

it really is the little things in life. 

homemade dinner with dear friends. warmth & laughter. prosecco & pink cava. wine. stories & debates. lots of love.

and the hot fudge sauce on the hot fudge sundae: watching the sweetest bundle of pink (francesca's miniature mirror image) have teeny twitches as she sleeps while a few of us giggle & whisper in the background. could have watched her for hours. 

best night.

deep thought for monday.

write when you're drunk off your ass. it may not be pretty but at least it will be uninhibited. & honest. sans editor. 

thank you, have a nice day.

we float.

take life as it comes. 

a tiny brit gives lyrics.

emphatic. enigmatic. enormous.

a covey of aussies engage a day.

a 15-year grace lends beauty.

her partner brings an art...

i don't understand,

but i will.

my state watches the clock.

my insides an amalgamation of recollections.

and i swim, swim swim.

i hate slash obsess over sleep though it spites me.

i need it. the elusive lover beckoning me to let go to dreams.

i'll never remember.

my camera's lens the calling-card. 

my life in pictures.

my rambles rendered ridiculous by my indulgences.

tweet, twitter, twat, twinkie fuck ALL.

embrace the embracelessness for newness.

i can hardly stand myself.

& love every second of it.

in my next life i'll come back a shadow of pj.

twenty-million genius lyrics.

& operatic voice a reckoning.

truth-telling. 

night becomes day.

and i can't won't won't won't stop.

the writing so rare.

middle name excess.

thank you inspiration.

mix for tequila & good music, sweet music.

city song - luscious jackson

14th st break - beastie boys

intro 1 - alex reece

california soul (diplo/mad decent remix) - marlena shaw

the numbers game (feat. chuck brown) - thievery corporation

good music- the roots

new york city (dj strobe brooklyn broken beat remix)- norah jones & peter malick

san juan y martinez - anga

más - kinky

more - peaches

whachadoin? (feat. spank rock, m.i.a., santogold & nick zinner) - n.a.s.a.

boom! -the roots

housequake - prince

tukka yoot's riddim - us3

soul makossa - afrika bambaataa

tumba palo cocuyé- afro cuban all stars

slam - onyx

xr2 - m.i.a.

bomb intro/pass that dutch - missy elliott

southernplayalisticadillacmuzik - outkast

storm - lenny kravitz & jay-z

hot fun in the summertime - sly & the family stone

rapture - blondie

i touch roses - book of love

i'll be there - weekend players

mix for lost saturdays

the national anthem - radiohead

panic switch - silversun pickups

hands all over - soundgarden

slither - velvet revolver

bone machine - pixies

dive - nirvana

dear prudence - siouxsie and the banshees

cheap kicks - the noisettes

blood - band of skulls

all you ever wanted - the black keys

we float - pj harvey

breakdown - tom petty and the heartbreakers

too drunk to fuck - nouvelle vague

strangers - portishead

no aloha - the breeders

nietzsche - dandy warhols

tomorrow never knows - the beatles

today (live) - zero 7

out of the blue (into the fire) - the the

instant pleasure - rufus wainwright

zero (animal collective remix) - yeah yeah yeahs

electricity - von iva

white girl - x

lions - tones on tail

mohammed - dandy warhols

boys and girls - bryan ferry

thais 1 - this mortal coil

imaginary people.

out of chicago. my new obsession.

porcupines are hot.

insert drool here.

get massive.

i hear

a world in exclamation points.

my eyes are times two.

electric nerves.

sonic night leaves too many traces.

impulses are guitar riffs.

& nothing else.

sleep misses me.

piles

upon piles

hair spills

clothes stacked

spread fanned

a layer removed

replaced

another shred

scattered

and amuck

i need a cleaning lady

oh kate.

thank you for being so hot. oh fabien baron. winner.

i'm gonna kick her ass!

i think this bitch (left) did a better madonna than me (right) & i'm hopping mad.

i don't write anymore.

this is a problem. 

new moon rising.

"...unapologetic, all out, this is rock & roll. just smash it." - andrew stockdale.

daria werbowy.

.shot by Inez & Vinoodh.

extraordinary

beauty. 

2 pics from memory lane.

no sign of my 

phoenix 

tattoo. 

my denim

birds jacket

is still

intact...

really, 

really 

(really) 

skinny...

holy crap. 

that's an 

era 

ago.

in these 

shots:

alex, lil g, 

julie, 

svet, kel.

dope stuff.

i say fever.

effing gorgeous. thx to ze for the twitter post.