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On Saturday, I worked a Valet Girls job in Simi Valley.  The event was an annual picnic that a couple has at their house for friends and family to get together from near and far (people fly in for the picnic).  The picnic is not just your checkered blanket and woven basket full of goodies.  No sir.  This picnic was La Grande Picnic.  There were tents and tables, a live band on a stage with dancing, an open (full) bar, a catered grill-out with dogs, and burgers, and potato salad, and baked beans - the works.  There were drawings for various prizes, there were potato-sack races and three-legged races - complete with ribbons for first, second and third place awards.  And, of course, valet parking.

Okay, so you get the idea.  A big, big picnic.

Well, Dana (the owner of Valet Girls) was very jammed with parties for this particular day.  She had more parties than she had girls to work.  So, she recruited Roark to work with us at the party.  Roark is Maria's husband.  Maria is my favorite Valet Girl by far.  Maria is great - organized, on top of things, and fun to work with.  She's totally down to earth and normal, but always cutting up and having a good time.

Maria was working a different party in Malibu, but Roark worked with us in Simi Valley.

A few hours into the party, women started swarming Roark.  They were pointing and giggling and stealing glances around corners at him.  Sure, he's a handsome fellow, but geez.  (blonde, blue eyes, nicely built)  Finally, the women gathered into a big brave group and approached him demanding, "Take off your sungalsses.  We want to see your face."

Oh.  I reckon I should mention that Roark is a former soap star --  Dr. Mike Horton of "Days of Our Lives."  (and a small stint on Passions)  Though he's also been in several movies, he's most recognizable as Dr. Horton.

It was pretty hilarious to watch these women go ga-ga over Roark.  He was embarrased to be recognized, but very polite about it all.  He posed for photos, signed a few autographs, and parked cars, too.  Poor guy.  He didn't even get to grab a burger because he was too afraid of making a scene by trampsing through the picnic.  No matter, they came to him.

By the end of the night, he was so starved that he wound up taking a half-eaten turkey sandwich that Kelly (another Valet) offered from her leftover lunch.

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I swear that my apartment complex is a small jungle set down in dead-center LA. 

Last night, I walked from my truck to the mailbox to my apartment.  Along the way, I encountered one small skunk, one medium-sized cat, one deadly spider (deadly by my definition because I nearly killed myself to avoid him and his massive web that stretched across the pathway between buildings), and two rather large raccoons who looked at me with wide eyes as if they'd just been caught.

Caught doing what?

I'd rather not know, but I'm guessing it had something to do with the overturned clay flower planter behind them.

Yesterday was beach day.  I attempted surfing for the first time since Hawaii. 

Key word - attempted. 

All the attempt managed to do was anger me.  I'd never been more pissed at an inanimate object as I was at the dumb, white board.  When I finally left the water, I had battle wounds to show for my effort - a scraped and slightly bleeding knee, a bruised cheek bone from the board pounding into my face after a tumble off a wave, and aching ribs.

After depositing the board on the sand, I released the ankle strap and made my way back out into the ocean to prove to myself that I was master in the waves.  I swam a little, played with the current and the undertow, and just regained my confidence that I am in full control in the ocean waves.

That allowed me to place blame on the board rather than myself or the waves.  Stupid, I know.  But I've always felt in control in the ocean, fully comfortable and at ease.  So, I just needed to feel that after the board beat me.

Oh!  And we saw a million dolphins.  Well, there were at least 20 that swam together, flipping along the way.  It was awesome.

By the way - thanks to Mike Houston for keeping my mom's anonymity on the plane.  :)  And I do check e-bay every so often to make sure you haven't tried to sell anything.

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I just saw a baby skunk!!
 
It is one of the few things you can call frightening and cute all at the same time. 
 
I reckon that either Pepe or Flower had a little one... hmmm... I wonder if skunklings (is that even a word) are born individually or if they come in litters.  Litters could be bad.
 
For those who follow this journal, you know who Pepe and Flower are... if you don't follow it, you should start, dang it!  Pepe and Flower are the resident skunks of Rancho Los Feliz.  I see them often.  Mostly at night.  But I see them briefly as I usually turn and haul tail the other way.  Unfortunately, my studio is not equipped with a tub in which I spend hours soaking in tomato juice... or whatever the latest concoction is that rids skunk odor.
 
The little fellow seemed unsure of what to do with his tail.  Even though he was rooting around happily in some ground coverings and was completely unaware of my presence, it still had its tail lifted. 
 
Crazy little thing.
 
He better learn to lower the weapon in times of peace.
 
Speaking of crazy critters - my Stormy cat never fails to amaze me in his absurd behaviors and habits.  Lately, his toy of choice is a quarter.  He loves to bat them around and chase them when they slide on the bar or the floor.  I'll likely find $20 or more in quarters when I Spring clean.
 
But that is not what floored me today.  Nope.  I learned today that he likes corn and avocado.
 
Corn.   And avocado.
 
He kept trying to eat the avocado that I was eating and was annoying me to no end.  So, finally I gave him a small piece and said, "Fine.  Here.  Try it.  But you're not gonna like it."
 
He ate the whole piece and came back looking for more.
 
Then, I was eating vegetable lasagna (the kind that is premade and frozen).  It had corn in it.  Now, before I go on... ummmm... who the heck puts corn in lasagna!!!!  Regardless, I was picking the corn out and putting it in a pile to the side.  Before long, I had quite an impressive mountain of corn built up.
 
I looked away for the tv for a few moments.  A second or two later, I heard lip smacking.  I turned back to my plate and discovered Stormy rascal had put a hurting on Mt. Corn and was going for more.
 
Can you believe it?  Weird cat.

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Last night, I experienced the Viper Room.

Briefly.

A friend, Sarah, knew a guy playing in one of the bands there and was able to get our names put on the list at the door.

The Viper Room was not exactly what I expected it to be... very small, incredibly loud, and super dark.

We didn't stay long before leaving and going to a place called Barney's Beanery on Santa Monica. Barney's was a fun restaurant / bar with pool tables and karaoke.

Yes, we did play pool. No, we did not karaoke.

We wound up back at a friend's apartment in Hollywood and watched The Butterfly Effect and played Trivial Pursuit.

Geez, what dorks we are.

So, when we left... I can't quit laughing. We couldn't find the car. I could remember that we parked in a lot next to a big, white van. Someone else said we street-parked. And our driver, Sarah, had no clue.

After walking around for a while, we found a lot with a white van... and Sarah's car parked next to it.

I'm entirely too mature, so I won't say, "I told you so."

Right.

Sarah drove me back to the Viper Room, where my truck was parked. I was a little concerned it wouldn't still be there, but I had payed to park so, luckily, it was still there.

Anyway, kind of a strange evening. I never go to bars, but last night was fun. Don't know if I'll do it again anytime soon, though.

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Have you ever felt invincible? Even for the smallest of moments?

Take a look at this picture:



The smaller cat on the left is named Dog. The bigger cat on the right was Tiger (rest his little 20-pound feline soul).

If you look close enough, you will see that Dog is raising her paw to bat at Tiger.

This snapshot caught a single moment in time that is descriptive of Dog's outlook on life. She seems to be oblivious to her size. She welcomes and even instigates a challenge.

"Bring on the bigger cat."

She's fearless (except for riding in the car as she knows that means a trip to the vet, but that's beside the point).

Today, I was Dog. Today, I was fearless. Today, I sought out challenges. Today, I felt invincible.

I can't explain what brought it on, but I felt I could do... anything.

I was driving down Santa Monica when the feeling hit. I came to the intersection with La Cienega, which takes you up to Sunset. Literally. Straight up. La Cienega stops you at a 90-degree angle at the redlight on Sunset.

I do not exaggerate. Steepest incline in the entire world. And again, I do not exaggerate.

So anyway, I sat there at the redlight, on the steepest hill in the world, in my truck that is a manual 5-speed... foot on the clutch and smile on my face as the cars piled up behind me and inched closer and closer to my rear bumper.

But I wasn't afraid. I was fearless. I was invincible. I was Dog.

I need not tell you that I took that hill like I owned it... but well, I guess I just did.

I came home and met a new, entirely different challenge... skunk in my path.

We squared off. I wanted to pass through to building 13, and Pepe wanted... well, he wanted to keep me from getting to building 13.

Normally, I would have turned around and found a new path. But not today, buddy. Nope. Today, I was invincible. Today, I was Dog.

My hands went to my hips. His tail went into the air. Somewhere in the distance I heard an old western tune.

I do not exaggerate. A tumbleweed roll between us. And again, I do not exaggerate.

Long story short, I won. Pepe fully left the path and moved to rooting around in the shrubs while I continued on to building 13.

I am Dog.

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First, I just need to say to all those people who stand at a crosswalk and press the button 30 times... it's a machine, it doesn't comprehend urgency. Press the button once, stand back and wait. Geez, that makes me nuts.

Now, on to something kinda funny.

I was asked a question today that I've never before been asked in my entire life.

"Are you American?"

It was an Asian lady who asked and I think she asked because she had a hard time deciding what type of accent I had. She knew I didn't sound like a Cali girl... and I'm not the All-American blonde with a tan.

It felt weird to be asked that. "Are you American?" If I were in England or Canada or France, I would expect such a question.

Perhaps it's because Cali is such a melting pot of cultures... most especially LA. I mean, in the area, I have driven through Koreatown, Little Armenia, Chinatown, Little Ethiopia, Little Tokyo, Thai Town, etc...

Or perhpas I'm thinking entirely too deeply and it was little more than an Asian lady who had never met a girl with a southern accent.