ON AN ANNOUNCEMENT

I want to be clear about something: I didn't pick her.

She picked me.

She was whining to be picked up, reaching her little paws up the sides of the large pen she was in, with about 10 other dogs. It was a Saturday afternoon in Hollywood, and my first day volunteering with this new group. She was carrying on so much, her little eyebrows furrowed together, that I finally reached down and scooped her into arms. She instantly settled, staying there the rest of the event, lounging in one arm while I used the other to pet the other dogs, hand out papers.

I knew who she was. I had gone through the photos on their facebook page the two weeks leading up to this day. These are the things I do in my spare time, totally normal. I knew she needed a new foster, hers were en route to India, which is kind of far for weekly adoption events in LA. I had shown her to the friend I was staying with, flipping my laptop around, look at this little one. He would roll his eyes when he spotted me going through the dogs again, but within minutes he was next to me, eventually on petfinder, exclaiming over boston terriers and french bulldogs. He came to visit me that fateful Saturday afternoon, making the drive east from Beverly Hills, after I sent her picture to him. He stood face to face with her, sunglasses still on, arms crossed, a quick nod to me before heading over to the puppies.

When it was time to leave, she was still in my arms, and the two girls turned to me. "She has nowhere to go tonight, you know." I knew. "Just take her for the night, we'll figure something out for tomorrow." Permission came though my phone, and we drove back west, where he greeted us with an eye roll and a smile. "I knew you'd bring her home."

She ripped down the seven-foot curtain rod. She tore off blinds. She ran out the door after me, making my heart jump out through my throat. Troublemaker. She listened to me, with my face pressed into her fur, as I contemplated just what the fuck I was doing. She danced with me in the kitchen, front paws waving wildly. She hurled her body vertically, as I turned away from the pen each week at the adoption events. One of the last ones, tears welled up in my eyes as I literally forced my legs to keep going toward the car. She met him through skype, his smile wide, but brushing it off, ready to have his eyes locked on me again. I told her about him, I told her about Henry, I told her about New York, we shared dinners, had long morning walks around the reservoir. We drove across Beverly Blvd endlessly, she sat in my lap as I cruised or sat in traffic.

We spent another month in Los Angeles, moving from Beverly Hills to Silver Lake, before flying across the country back to New Jersey, then New York City. Henry wasn't having it. Oh no, sir, no way. That's my mommy! He made it clear with his bark, his attitude, and his biting attempts. His big brown eyes looked up at me, asking me how I had brought her home, who was this dog? She slept in my lap, peed everywhere, ignored him. He got better about it. A miracle. They touched noses, connected. My little terrified man crept a little bit further out of his shell, being pulled by this firecracker new sister of his.

I'm not sure when it happened, to be honest. For weeks, I protested. No, really, I was only fostering her, the dogs didn't get along. And I meant it, too. No one believes me, but we had quiet talks, she and I, and I'd explain it to her. I meant it. But then... I don't know. Maybe it's our history. Maybe it was the things that happened in the time from LA to now. Maybe it was the way she woke me up with this giant smile, a tail swoosh like you've never seen. But one day I realized she was mine. And today we went ahead and made that official.

Lady, Layla, LaLa, LayLay, my little bug. You're home now, sweet girl. You're home now.

ON melrose trading post

Two Sunday's ago, Lady & I made our way to the Melrose Trading Post for some rummaging.
We love to rummage. Well, okay, I do, but she had no choice in it since I was driving. Her day to drive is never on Sunday. Also, she is a puppy. The trading post is a giant flea market full of other people's crap, hand made things, painted furniture, artwork, and so on. Your general parking lot filled with awesome.

We didn't buy anything but we spotted some old school puffy sports team jackets like the one I used to have circa 1995 (mine was the Raiders, which I believe was a football team? still not totally sure) and a giant painting version of a print my mom has in our living room. We found lots of posters and signs and we especially liked the vendor who had everything teal and pink. We're girls, hello. One of us imagined how we would do an entire apartment solely furnished from this market, and the other one imagined all of the things she could potentially chew and pee on. No hints as to which one of us had which thoughts.

Places like these are exactly what weekend adventuring is for. And weekend adventuring is very important. We took a vote and it's been decided :)

Have you ever been? What's your favorite flea market? Tell me please&thankyou!

p.s. there's a really fun game in LA where it's so sunny that you can't see what pictures you're taking or really the objects in them. it's extra fun to play on your iphone and oh man i am so happy to have my camera back in my life.

ON captured

mostly i think i have no idea what i'm doing.

i'm messy and complicated, "layered" doesn't quite do it justice. i get far too caught up in a future that hasn't happened yet, a trait which has only come to be since i finally stopped living in a past that is far long gone. i cry. not often but when i do, my god, it can be hours. days of crying. the past few have been like this. i'm frustrating and i'll pick a fight for no reason other than the fact that i feel vulnerable, i feel seen. and well, no we can't have that, can we? no we can not. i think people are crazy for working in jobs they aren't passionate for, my biggest fear is ending up in that place, and lately all i want to do is ask people what they're passionate about. i feel like i judge too much, too harshly, what do i know?

mostly i think i'm just out of my mind crazy.

i make decisions from gut feelings instead of logic. this is great except i still have logic and that means it's like a nonstop war between what i know i must do and what "i should do". i take massive leaps and hurl myself into forty million new things a year and succeed at damn near all of them. but it's never enough. i'm weirdly introverted, i almost always prefer to be alone except for when i'm with dogs or the people that light me up in a way i can't explain. otherwise, alone please. i'm brave and terrified at the same time, an interesting combination. and while i love nothing more than entertaining thousands, i am unbelievably shy, nervous, uncertain. except, of course, for when i am certain, so very certain. there is almost nothing in between those places, those two starkly different places. i'm afraid of my own talents and i block my own path better than anyone or anything could ever possibly dream of doing.

mostly i think i'll never get there, i'll never make it, i'm so far.

but then i see a picture like this. a photo, casually snapped on my iphone, on a sunny sunday in los angeles.

and i see myself. clearly.

natural, no giant smile taking up so much space that it pushes the rest of me out of the frame. authentic. direct, head on, facing whatever comes next, poised. confident.

a dog in my arms, knowing she's safe there, protecting all of the ones i can. nurturing.

hair long with a slight wave, skirt flowing, mismatched prints, ganesha around my neck. free spirit.

chipped nail polish always, wearing the same clothes for the past two months. low maintenance. 

i see the peace on my face and in my body, i see the determination in my eyes right behind the sunglasses, i see the mischievousness, i see the story-teller. i see the natural born mother who only has four legged children thus far, and i see the heart that stays open, the faith that stays strong.

how rare it is to see ourselves so clearly. we happily collect all of the things we think are 'wrong' with us, gleefully discuss our flaws, willingly gripe about the things we wish we already had. but how often do we see ourselves, in all of our greatness, as we are right now in this second. i don't know if it's the place i was in, or the person who took the photo being able to see me so clearly already, but there i am: captured.

mostly, i think, i like what i see.

ON sunday-ing

today i am trusting that we are always where we are meant to be.

and if we have a friend by our side, where we are is even better.

sundays are made for dreaming & adventuring. get to it, friends. xo

p.s. lady's shadow in the second photo down is the best ever, no? gah.

ON Booker & Bugsy

booker & bugsy are brothers.

booker is tan & white & floppy, and says hello to every person/horse that passes.

bugsy is black with white accents, and is pretty nervous at first, but that smile comes out.

they weren't always brothers but when booker's folks found bugsy, that was that.

booker & bugsy love to hike. they just love it so very much.

and last weekend, they let me & cameron come along! lucky ducks, we are.

we made friends with a pup who lives there on the ranch, and we saw horses. so many horses.

and booker scared me half to death as he ran down, down, down the sides of the hills,

but pups are adventurous, you know, when they need to run downhill, they must!

when we turned a corner, there in front of us was the hollywood sign, so close,

and out of my mouth came the words: "that's for me!" because, well, it is.

the pups stole the show but cameron is pretty neat, too. he tells really great stories.

sometimes they are in person and sometimes they are on screen but they are always neat.

cameron is one of those people who i thought i'd see once, maybe twice, in life,

but then instead he became one of my most favorite people and has fully invaded my life.

along with his entire extended family. which is exactly how i like it! he is something special, that one.

these types of adventures are exactly what saturdays are made for :)

ON california-ing

some more tidbits of LA for you beautiful people.

first: yes, i did go to the library within my first week here. don't act like it's not cool.

urth cafe (which is where that delicious first picture came from)

& aroma are both excellent for people watching and warm beverage sipping.

the grove, griffith observatory, hiking, the Hollywood sign.. I'm such a tourist!

my apologies for looking like i'm dying in the hiking photos. this is because i forgot my inhaler.

(if you have asthma, you just went "oof" upon reading 'hiking' & 'no inhaler'.)

as for the looking like death in the picture with those handsome gents?

that's just a case of the no-makeups. no excuse for that one. best blog ever, right? ;)

have you ever been to LA? favorite things to do?

happy tuesday, friends. xo

ON the flip side

so the other day, i walked out of the house i'm staying at,

and saw the gorgeous row of palm trees staring back at me.

and i said to myself 'self, we must have a photo of that right now!'

and self and i took out our phone, and took a picture!

and then we looked at it and realized the camera had been set on reverse,

and what i'd taken was that picture on the left - of myself.

so i giggled a bit, because i am six years old, and stayed where i was, taking the pic on the right.

thus, the flip side. literally what was behind the camera and in front of the camera, in photo form.

the picture of me makes me laugh because i really do make that smirk-ish face all the time.

like i am constantly poised to judge or make a smart remark. which, um, you know, i do.

also because i am not just like a six year old in thoughts, but also in size, and so my sunglasses look 

SO BIG on my face and yet they are tiny, not-oversized frames, in real life.

in related news: PALM TREES!!! it's now non-jacket weather here (70's woohoo!)

and i am surely beginning to remember what it is i love best about this place.

now, an important note: HELLO NEW READERS!! 

may i just say that you're all pretty darn beautiful??

if you've come my way via ten feet off beale, then i know you've got great taste.

alyssa is the sweetest, no? i'm so glad to have you joining in on my silly, strange life.

make sure to leave a comment if you haven't already, so i can come say hi on your blog!

happy friday, friends. go live it up, yes? yes. xo

p.s. today is the LAST day to enter alyssa's giveaway, if you haven't yet!

ON Greetings From Los Angeles