Your Silverglo Stays on My Mind

Dear Silverglo:

How it can be that we have so many treasured memories from our short time together in Aspen? It seems like I shouldn't feel this way; in fact, I am not sure if I ever have. But those 4 1/2 days at your condominium complex really touched me in a special way. How could I sit back here in smoggy Los Angeles and not think of your alluring pillows:





And when I came home dehydrated and semi-drunk, you were there with your comforting objets d'art:





In an unfamiliar room where I lay my head every night, you offered comforting decorative touches, including what I think might be the most beautiful man purses I've ever seen:





I was impressed, too, with how our breakfast area immediately felt so warm and inviting:



Even Beth couldn't help but be charmed by your joie de vivre and irrepressible whimsy (that is what it was, right?):



Without you I would not have felt quite so at home. Even now, I can't believe it actually happened. It's all like a dream. I just can't wait for the next time we meet.

Love,

Mikel

Oh, yeah, writing...

Isn't that what I am supposed to be doing here? I forgot. I really meant to just post pictures of the condo I stayed in with 6 of my colleagues in Aspen in mid-June, but I've not been home much and I keep forgetting to download them. I took to calling it "'70s Native American Chic," if that gives you any idea. And it was part of the "Silverglo" complex--if that gives you any MORE idea...

By the time I got back to L.A. last week, I was pretty much spent. I think I was exhausted by 10 pm every night. It wasn't until yesterday that it did not feel like every little thing was a huge project to be completed.

Now I just have to solve the mystery of the weird black stains that showed up on all of my white clothes and my recently washed sheets. How annoying. Of all the things to want to expend mental energy on, locating a rogue pen or something that splattered black stuff all over my clothes is not one of them.

I owe Carly a sample of writing in 2 days. She gave me this deadline (or, rather, I offered it) weeks ago, and I am completely stuck. If I got stoned on any regular basis maybe I'd use it as an excuse, but I hardly ever do so I only have my own two hands and brain to blame. The chapter that has to be written (it's crammed in my head in jumbled ways; it has to be the one to come out next) is about my father dying. In theory this sounds maudlin and horrible to write. In truth, it's just confusing. There are so many ways to go about it. I even thought about a timeline of the year before and after his death that actually avoids talking about him, to illustrate how someone's death punctuates your daily life. But that would be like creating a sculpture of negative space or something. I don't know. She'll have something in hand unless I have a nervous breakdown, but I can't promise it will be good.

And then there's the saga of my neighbor, whom I'll dub "The Abuser," for his lovely way of flying off the handle about the noise in Steve's room and the sound of the dogs jumping off the bed, and then apologizing for it afterward. He's truly upsetting and makes it very hard to want to be home when he spends the 8 am hour slamming what sounds like a hammer against the wall for 30 seconds, goes away for 10 minutes, and then comes back and does it again. Seriously. The whole apt. was shaking last week. He literally told Steve he was going to make his life "a living hell." Yes, we complained to the landlord. No, nothing's happened yet.

I like my apt. a lot, but I don't like it THAT much. In fact, I very much despise this person at the moment for the way he's acting, and it's got nothing to do with me and yet I live with the crazy uncertainty every day of what he might do. I really fucking hate that. And now I remember clearly why I loved living alone. It's been 6 years since I last did. I think it's time to reconsider that again. Well, it's time to keep considering it. As much as I hate moving and as much as the rents in this city suck and make me think about leaving, for the time being, it may be the best option.

"Fuck, Yeah!" and "Hey There, Yaz Fans"

I couldn't resist this title for a post, despite the fact it will mean nothing to almost everyone. Before dinner last night, I taught Jessica how to do the "Fuck, yeah!" sign that Ryan taught me, but she one-upped it as we ate, pointing to something she was eating with both hands as if she were flashing gang signs, doubling me over in hysterics and then she started and then our dinner companions were laughing, unsure why, as we cackled through the rest of the meal.

But then I truly made myself sick on the phone with Lesley at midnight as she tried to pick songs for her myspace page and was debating a Yaz song. To which I said she should change her profile so every part of it referred back to Yaz; examples:

About me: I heart Yaz.
Hobbies: All Yaz all the time.
Favorite Books: Anything written on the Web about Yaz.
Heroes: Vince Clarke and Alison Moyet.
Favorite Movies: A Brief History of Yaz and Yazoo.

But then she just pretended to be greeting all of the page viewers with saying "Hey there, Yaz fans..." and between the wine I'd had and my delirious state, I wheezed like an old man on the steps to my apartment.

God, I'm easy.

Oh, and...

Since I'll be in Aspen and not blogging...
Happy Flag Day!

Anyone who knows me well enough is cringing right now, I just know it. Don't worry, you escape (yet again) my threats to have a red, white, and blue party and make Flag Cake.

Counting the Miles (and Days)

I used to think traveling for work would be a blast, until I realized it meant hundreds of emails to catch up on and general disorientation...not to mention jet lag, muscle cramps in my legs, and dehydration. Don't get me wrong; I like leaving town. I just realize I need the balance of traveling for myself vs. my clients.

I was just in New York to do meetings, media lunches, and attend a taping of the Today Show, which was surreal enough... with Anna Kournikova in the green room with kids from the Boys and Girls Club of America to promote Anna's newest DVD about "getting fit with kids" or something... and Stacy from "What Not to Wear" being kinda bitchy and then leaving the room dressed in a rugby shirt and track pants. Speaking of what not to wear... A producer told me she loved my shoes, though, so I guess I did something right. Or wrong. Depends on how you look at it.

NYC is much as I remember it. It's hard to be there for more than 4 days without feeling a tad suffocated. I really do need the open air, ocean, mountains, and sky nearby. Still, I fled Midtown on Friday for Brooklyn and hung out with Megan and drank rose (roh-zay, that is) wine on her fire escape and saw Keith, Darren, Larry, and others for drinks as well. I was happy to kick off dress shoes that were killing me and slip on the ol' flip flops. I only miss Brooklyn when I go to NYC now. And the art. I guess most of that is still in Manhattan.

And now I am off again--to Aspen, Colo., for 4 1/2 days of work trailing a chef around the Food & Wine Classic. Luckily, he's awesome, but 4 days of running around at 8000 feet and trying to stay hydrated should be interesting... I can't wait for next Tuesday, honestly. I am running out of steam.

Plus, I admit it, finally, in "print": I'm enjoying Ryan's company too much to want to be gone so often. I'd much prefer to lounge on the beach with him, as I did Sunday in Malibu, looking for sea glass and eating delicious sandwiches. I don't know what to call what's happening right now, but, as we both said: "I like it, whatever it is." And in fact, I have planned the trip I said I wanted to. It's preliminary, but looks like we'll head to Frankfurt, Berlin, and Amsterdam in Sept. I am going to suck it up and just go for it. I've never been; I've always wanted to go; I have a hot guy to go with, to boot. If we can plan 3 months in advance, something is going right, huh? And neither one of us seems to be panicking about committing to doing this. Even better.