...And Then Everything Went Horribly, Horribly Wrong

PupChop
Originally uploaded by Alisa RBS.

I'm allowing the Puppy to remain incognito after all these months of posting about our antics together. The poor boy deserves that much. But here's the Softer Side of said pupster, walking Chopslice (as he was recently dubbed by a clever, clever friend of the Pup's) along the Oregon coast. This was one of the most beautiful and simple days of my life. A scenic drive with the perfect soundtrack, a good breakfast, an incredibly quiet and soul-satisfying hour on the beach. I think this particular morning touched us all - S was there, too - and we all took a moment to appreciate each other and just how far we had come. I FUCKING LOVE YOU GUYS. I feel a Dionne Warwick moment coming on...and that's never a good thing. OY.

girls
Originally uploaded by Alisa RBS.

Why, it's me and S, of course! Thank you, mamasita tres bonita for helping make all of this possible. This isn't our best photo by a longshot but it conveys our sweaty hopefulness quite nicely, donchoo think???

smoke
Originally uploaded by Alisa RBS.

Ah, to be young and foolish. Here's me in the dining room of the 75-year-old house in the boonies the Puppy found. Well, not "actual" boonies, but Beaverton, which is the boonies when you consider how long I've been pining for a good sidewalk and cityscape outside my bedroom window. Soon, though, soon enough...

Anyhoo, I'm absolutely adoring it here. Very happy so far and the city/scenery/people are wonderful. No cute guys, though. And I am getting a bit concerned. My friend Just Joe suggested that they're found in pockets in certain neighborhoods. Pockets of hotness. Hot pockets. I like it.

I'm also working from home for at least the next month, so I expect lots more blogging and many more trips into the city to find said hot pockets and rope me up a man! Yeehaw! Oh, and I did the world's best thing on Friday night: we went to a bar that sells tickets to concerts at the adjacent Crystal Ballroom. Here was my order: "Two Pabst, two tickets to Built to Spill and one to Spoon, please." Someone put a fork in me, because it doesn't get any better than that. My GAWD I love this town.

insideHouse 004
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This is what my living room used to look like. Now, all is chaos. Ah, I love moving! And I have something new for my List of Things That Horrify Me (which already includes clowns, monkeys and glass elevators): HOLDING A YARD SALE.

I don't have time to get into it now, as I have to cleanse and then get on a Party Bus for my friend's birthday - it has booze, flat-screen tvs and 8,000 WATTS OF SOUND SOUND SOUND - but to summarize my Yard Sale today: FREAKSHOW. A human circus of the bizarre. A creepy melange of weirdos.

One woman, while contemplating a $10 chest, said she needed to "go home and pray on it." I was like, "It's 10 bucks. Jesus says it's okay." She didn't come back.

(Okay, I didn't really say that but how kick-ass would it be if I did?)

Another couple had a FIGHT in my driveway over yet another $10 item. She was like "Give me my money, Bob, I want it." And Bob was like "I won't give you the money because you have four just like that at home."

Ah, good times, good times.

Blogging like this - all about me for so many days - seems so narcissistic but so many of my friends are keeping tabs on me that it's probably okay. Soooo...S and I are driving to Portland! Here is our itinerary;

Thursday: drive from LA to Santa Barbara to spend the night
Friday: drive up the coast to Big Sur, Monterey, Carmel and into (just outside of) San Francisco to spend the night
Saturday: wake up at the crack of ass, and drive up the 5 to beautiful cloudy Portland. We're going out with the Puppy and his motley crew of new friends Saturday night
Sunday: (hopefully) meet up with S's friend A who lives in P-land; possibly see And You Shall Know Us By the Trail of Dead Sunday night
Monday: laze about! maybe get some coffee; hoof it all around downtown Portland; maybe hit a dive bar at night
Tuesday: get S on a plane back to Burbank
Wednesday: check my work e-mail - consider working - then decide to fuck it and go back downtown for more investigating! START MY NEW LIFE.

for now...start to pack, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait...and as for tonight, finish watching "Roller Derby" with Linda Blair, drink another glass of wine, go to bed early. I went to my spin class last night, then the EH called and we met at Dick's for dinner and an ice-cold Stella. Then I figured "what the hell" and invited him back and we spent a couple of hours doing the nasty! Yeah! And it was EXCELLENT. Not at all like last time when I freaked out. This time it was just perfect. I miss nookie. And it's difficult to be around the EH now b/c the bad things are filed away and it's only the good stuff that comes to mind. Ah, life. It can be such a fucking bitch. :)

pearl1
It's on! I am going to consult for my current employer through June 23 - which means more money, actually, and I don't have to be tied to my desk. Everything is in place - even the sketchy movers - and all I have to do now is pack for two weeks and then drive like the fucking wind.

Holy shite!

// posted by Alisa @ 6:24 PM 0 comments

Trapped in San Francisco, but not in a bad way. Just waiting two hours for my ride to the airport. Liz went to play her soccer game and I am in her apartment, waiting. Fucking around online. Trying not to stress about everything I need to accomplish in the next two weeks. Pray that I can keep my job, pack up my stuff, drive to LA, drive to SF, drive to Portland, get there, start new life! Auugh!

San Francisco Highlights:

1. The Hemlock bar. Lots of pseudo punk rock boys, great music, and lots of boys giving me the eye. Looking and smiling and flirting from across the bar. It made me feel like a natural woman. According to Liz, however, none of the SF boys come up and talk to you or buy you drinks. They just give you goofy smiles. And not a single drink was bought for me except by a married guy from South Africa. But it was appreciated.

2. Liz's friend's band - Red Planet. They were truly great in a Superdrag way. Totally going to buy their album! YAY.

3. Walking through the Presidio, along the bay, lightly buffeted by a sea wind, on a wide, sandy path to Golden Gate bridge on a Sunday morning. I hope that all of those people walking beside us took some time to thank God for allowing them to experience a setting so beautiful.

4. Watching a few minutes of St. Elmo's Fire with someone who appreciates its hideousness. Tuning in just in time to hear Demi Moore call Judd Nelson from the hotel room with the Arabs, uttering these "coked-up" words: "I don't know much Arabic, but I think I heard the words for 'gang bang.'"

5. Being in the city. Fabulous, fabulous. Too bad it's so expensive and crowded. And that I left my heart in the Pacific Northwest, because this is one spaztacularly great place to live.

6. Hanging out in North Beach drinking iced cappucino at a sidewalk table.

7. Taking advantage of Liz's largesse. It was a weird weekend to visit what with my impending life-changing move and Liz's recent busy schedule, but she tolerated my request to "walk all day" on Saturday, which we did - for 6 straight hours - and introduced me to her friends, who were all terrific.

Lowlights:

1. Surly waiters.

2. Mediocre, overpriced food - except for a righteous turkey burger and fries worth giving up your skinny jeans for at Frankie's Bohemian Cafe.

3. Not a lot of cute boys. Seriously - shocking! Lots of short, hairy boys, though.

4. Seeing a really, really bad band in a bar that smelled like dog vomit (Edinborough Castle or something. I think the dog-vomit smell was actually caused by gallons and gallons of vinegar that have been spilled over the years and has worked its stinky way into the wood floors. Anyhoo, the band...um... The lead singer appropriated a sloppy, slightly scary Tom Waits thing and sang - I shite you not - a chorus comprised of these words: "You get on top and you kill it." Over and over again. You get on top and you kill it. You get on top and you kill it. No fucking clue what he could possibly be talking about. A spider under the sofa? An embarassingly conspicuous zit? An ex-girlfriend? Eek.

5. What I am doing now, which is waiting for a ghetto ride (Supershuttle) to catch a plane. I have to practice my patience. And be as Zen as possible. Only an hour and 10 minutes to go! Maybe I'll get something to eat at the airport. Why is time moving so slowly? I should appreciate the chance to be alone and decompress, but all I keep thinking is what a moron I am for booking an 8:30 flight because there is so much I need/want to do at home. Plus I just want to be at home! Sigh. I miss my dog.

I can't wait to be off the plane, home to shower and tucked into bed with a book.

btw: Bimbelina, if you are reading this, this is all I have to say: Okfuckinglafuckinghofuckingma. I am looking forward to you visiting me in Portland! Soooou-eeeeee!