Just in case my little corner of Burbank had allowed me to forget I was in Hollywood, I was reminded today when an ornery ol brunette cow came face-to-face with me here in my own apartment complex.

Christmas is over, right? Holiday spirit out the window.

Beauregard and I were about to go out for a walk. We stopped and waited at the elevator. In addition, I had decided to take two large bags of trash down to the dumpster. So, there Beau and I stood waiting and waiting on an elevator.

Now, normally, an elevator will arrive in a matter of seconds. But today, the wait was nearly ten minutes... no kidding. I couldn't take the stairs with the trash bags and the dog. So, we waited. And we waited. And waited some more.

Finally, the elevator arrived. The doors opened to reveal a woman and her many bags of groceries filling the entire floor of the elevator. Realizing that she was not intending to exit the elevator on my floor, I began to step in with Beau.

"Oh, no no no," the woman said. "You will have to wait."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"I don't want the dog sniffing my things, you will have to wait," she said again.

Oh no way. I had been waiting and waiting. No freaking way was I going to be told I could not get into the elevator.

"I have him on a leash, he's not going to sniff your things. We are getting on the elevator now. Come on, Beau."

The woman became irritated with me and snapped, "If you're getting on, then I'm getting off."

She proceeded to begin unloading her many bags of groceries... all the while telling me how rude I was.

Oh boy. I tell you.

All of a sudden my inner Julia Sugarbaker kicked in.

"No, you inconsiderate cow. You are the rude one. I have been waiting and waiting on this elevator to arrive... no doubt because you were holding it in the garage while you loaded your multiple bags of 'things' that the dog cannot sniff. You know, that's why a lot of folks living in building own push carts that they carry their groceries in. Invest. I think it's about a whopping 10 dollars.

As for the dog sniffing your things. I don't appreciate the insinuation that I have absolutely no control over my animal. Aside from that fact, the dog is on a leash - one end at his harness and the other end in my hand. I can keep the dog from 'sniffing' your precious belongings.

But hey, if you want to get off the elevator and allow me and my dog to ride downstairs in privacy, or at the very least free of your terribly unpleasant company, go right ahead.

And just so you know, this is an apartment complex that allows pets. I don't know how long you have lived here, but rest assured this will certainly NOT be your last encounter with a dog riding in the same elevator as you."

Surprisingly, she apologized for the wait. Weird. Threw me for a loop.

Beauregard and I proceeded to have a very nice walk, despite the rough start.

But come on, the dang dog is probably cleaner than the million of kids she must have planned to feed with those zillion groceries. I mean, afterall, this is a dog that jumps into the shower every chance he gets! But that's a different tale.

.
.
.
Beauregard's first Christmas.

79 degrees... so, we spent part of the afternoon sitting by the pool. I with my notebook and pen, he with his rawhide and new squeaky hotdog. I in my new UGA sweatshirt from Dad, he in his blue jingle bell collar.

Santa was quite good to both Beau and me this year. Beau knew immediately which gifts were his and took claim. He got a polka-dotted snake, a few braided rawhides, lots and lots of treats (snausages, beggin' strips, etc...), a Dale Jr. bandana, and of course the squeaky hotdog.

Check out some photos of his first Christmas below! (click to enlarge)

This was a few weeks before Christmas with my Mama...


With Santa Claus...


Beau's tree...


Beau's stocking...


Unwrapping a gift...


Playing with his new snake...


More playing with the snake...


Can't decide between the rawhide and the squeaky hotdog...


Wearing his new bandana...


Hanging by the pool in the afternoon...


Not his, but it's pretty huh?


Beaureclaus...


Getting tired (amongst the wrapping paper)...


And here is a video of the Beau dog on Christmas day. When I give him the command "bang" I am telling him to play dead... we're still working on that one.

Beau's Christmas Video 2005

.
.
.
Me and several other elves (models represented by my agency) got together to make the rounds and deliver Christmas gifts to my agent's best clients. Check us out below. Lots of fun!!!


(click to enlarge)

The photo below is where we started our day. We arrived at Christope Salon in Beverly Hills to have Demetrius style our hair for the day. Demetrius is pictured with us in the photo.



Then, Rudolph arrived in a black stretch sleigh and guided us around Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Culver Ctiy, Venice, Beverly Hills and more as we delivered gifts.


(click to enlarge)

Here's just a fun picture of us cutting up. In order from left to right: Kassidy, Tabitha, Ines, Noelle, Valerie and me.


(click to enlarge)

We hopped around to several production companies, casting agencies, etc... All the while drinking champagne and eating cookies in our sleigh. Lots of fun.

To end the day, we made a stop to Olympia Hospital.

Quite sobering.

At the suggestion of the nurses, we visited a man on the 4th floor. We didn't ask, but he must have been around 35 years old... no more. He was stretched out his bed watching television when we barged into his room intent on spreading some holiday cheer.

He wore a gym t-shirt that revealed bulging biceps and was stretched taut across his chest. Immediately, he sat up and began smiling wecloming us to his room.

Without prompt, he opened up to tell us his story.

"I've had AIDS for many years now."

But there were no open sores on his body, he looked like a body builder, the perfect image of health.

"A few years back, they had to go in and open my skull to drain a fungal infection. It has come back and now I'm here," he said waving his hands around the room.

Dull walls, no paintings or portraits. No flowers from friends or family. Just him, a worn blanket on his bed, and a tv tuned to a weightlifting program.

"The way things look, I will be here for Christmas."

We took photos with him. The horrible thing is... I was afraid of what to do and what not to do. I know, I know... you can't get AIDS from touching someone with the virus. But still, as I stood next to his bed for a photo, I clenched my hands behind my back.

Truth be known, I'd never before actually met someone with AIDS. Or at least not someone who admitted that fact. It was eerie. It's all on TV, it's in the movies, it's on the news, it's on the photos set up for charities outside the grocery store, it's... fictional... until you meet the virus face-to-face.

To look at him, you would never know. But to hear his tales... quite another story.

I'm glad I met him. I hate that I was uncomfortable. But I'm glad I met him.

The visit to this gentleman at Olympia was truly the perfect ending for the day. The clients appreciated our visit, the men in the various offices took lots of photos with us. We smiled, they smiled... but we all knew it wasn't about bringing holiday cheer, but about bringing future bookings for us and for them.

But the visit to this man at Olympia... we really did bring him some cheer for the day. He said to us, "You elves made my day."

And all we did was say "Merry Christmas" and listen to him talk for a while. Nothing.

But he said, "You elves made my day."

And I think he meant it.

.
.
.

Beau sure did give me quite a scare tonight. I found pills scattered on the floor around my bedroom. Beauregard had found a pill box that belonged to my mom containing medication for blood pressure, thyroid, vitamin D, and hormone pills. She'd left the pills during the her last visit a few weeks ago and I had plans to mail them back to her tomorrow.

Thank goodness that the pills have a bitter flavor. I picked up about 7 pills from the floor that had their coating removed leaving only the chalky inside. Had they been flavorful, he may have swallowed them. But instead, it appears that Beau only played with the pills until their coating melted and left a bitter yicky taste in his mouth. At that time, he evidently abondaned the pill and went back for more.

I'm soooooo glad they don't taste like beef or liver.

.
.
.
Mom arrived into town on the Friday before Thanksgiving. In shopping around for our groceries to make the perfect Thanksgiving fixins, we wound up going from store-to-store in search of the ideal-sized Turkey breast that would fit into the Slow Cooker giving us plenty to nibble on Thanksgiving day without leaving so many leftovers that we were sick of Turkey by the weekend.

In addition, we got sweet potatoes for souffle, green beans for casserole, eggs to devil, pears for pear salad, water chestnuts for 7-layer, cherries to make Yum Yum, and the ever-popular canned cranberry sauce. As for the corn meal to make dressing, that was shipped directly from Georgia since finding mix here in Southern Cal is impossible (aside from that sugary crap from Jiffy).

The day before Thanksgiving, Mom and I decided to have a little fun with the Mouse and made a trip down to Anaheim to visit Disneyland. We figured it to be the best day to see the park since most normal folks would be with their families on the day. Yeah... uh... no. The park was jam packed with people all wanting to ride the same dang rides we fancied!

But, having worked at Disney World in Florida taught me how to time some of the more popular rides just right... and we managed to see and do everything we wanted to... until tired out bods would go no more. We rode the new Space Mountain, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, toured the Haunted Mansion which had been redecorated for Christmas, sang with the best in It's A Small World, shot targets with all our might in Buzz Lightyear (sorry to announce Mom beat my score by about 10,000 points - she sucks!!!- I swear she hit some super secret target worth millions), we Tiki Tiki-ed with the birds, sailed on the Jungle Cruise, and lots more.

We had fun, but I have to say that Disneyland in no way compare to Disney World.

But we had to do something to celebrate... I got SAG! That's right. "Doris, you just got SAG, now what are you going to do?" You guessed it. Disneyland. Yes, yes. Congratulate me. Huge milestone, man.

So, anyway. Next day, we strolled into the kitchen with bare feet and tired eyes from our day with the Mouse. We pulled out the ole Slow Cooker to begin cooking our turkey. Pulled the plastic away from the Turkey and sheewee!!!

Dang thing was as rotten as Austin Powers' teeth. Just stank! It about made me and Mom throw up on the spot. We near about fought over who was taking the rank thang down to the dump four floors down in the garage.

Yick. The thought of that awful smell makes me nauseated even now.

Luckily, we had a spare. Yep. So, we did have turkey afterall.

And so did Beau. He discovered he LOVES turkey.

Round about 4pm, all three of us were passed out on the porch, the chair, and the floor (respectively) with big fat full belly bums. Me, Mom, and Beauregard.