in the still of the night

last night before i closed my eyes i made a ttdl (things to do today list). it's not something i usually do, but since i've been preoccupied with so many other things that i have no control over, i needed to make sure that i did do what i had to do.

those things kept me busy all day but now as i sit alone in my living room with the television on mute, reality has stopped by to say hello. i'd really like to write about what's going on right now but i'm afaid that if i do it will become even more real and keep me up all night--again.

so, i'm going to leave it alone for now and pray that god's will be done. better yet, that i will be strong enough to accept that which is inevitable.

everything must change.

in five days i leave for my second trip to south africa in less than a year. i'm excited because i love traveling--even to places i've already seen. i'm inspired because if i can accomplish my goals over there, hopefully my words and pictures will inspire others around the globe. but i'm nervous about the things that might go down while i'm gone.

stay with me dude.

hoo-ray for hollyhood

it's been another one of those weeks.

something i fully expected to come through, didn't. dad was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia. my bff's dad was also rushed to the hospital with symptoms of pneumonia. and as if all that weren't enough to make me hypertensive, being force-fed a steady diet of the chris brown-rihanna beatdown truly made me wanna walk on rusty nails.

but some cool things happened last week, too. on wednesday, my new nikon d200 body arrived in a beautiful gold box. trust me when i tell you i was so awed by it that i didn't even remove it from the box for two days! it's a pretty thing. the night it arrived i officially launched mikiphoto. the next day i had my first two clients.

this new venture is really the culmination of a dream. i've been passionate about capturing images since i was 5 and got my first camera, a kodak brownie. since then i've moved on to a variety of polaroids, followed by more kodaks. i didn't actually get my first slr until my sophomore year in college when i enrolled in a photography class. i replaced it a few years later when i studied with one of the original life magazine photographers at boston university.

i still have my first body--a minolta srt 201--and it ranks among my favorite cameras ever. but i now use nikons exclusively. i've lost count of how many i have but they've all served me well for the past 27 years. the new one, however, is a little intimidating so i asked my friend leroy hamilton, a brilliant shutterbug, to help me get to know this new beast. he was tremendously helpful.

leroy's 2-hour tutorial helped me prepare for mikiphoto's first clients--two young women who were celebrating their 27th year on the planet by throwing a party on the top floor of a hollyhood club with no name. i was happy for the business, but as the night wore on i was even more elated actually to have the experiences--in and out of the club.

it's been a while since i've been on that scene and i found myself wondering if i had ever been that girl?

had i been the kind of girl who would willingly stand in line to get into a club? did i ever spend half my check on club gear, club admission and overpriced club drinks? and did i ever travel in a pack, thereby lessening my chances of meeting mr. right or his buddy mr. wrong?

well, last night i was the smart girl who left her flat about three hours before the games began because parking in hollyhood is always a nightmare--particularly on a weekend night. it took me about 20 minutes of driving up and down sunset to find a free spot that was about five blocks away from the club. to kill some time i bopped into amoeba--an oasis for music and film junkies. but as i was perusing the dvd bins upstairs, i became a hungry girl.

i needed a slice.

there are at least 20 pizza places in l.a. that purportedly make new york-style pizza. most, with the exception of mulberry street in beverly hills, don't even come close. but this greco joint on the corner of hollyhood and cahuenga was undeniably authentic and very, very tasty.

this girl was satisfied.

eating pizza at a joint on the corner with eclectic crazies all around me reminded me of times square before it turned into disneyland. that slice not only hit the spot but it inspired me to do something i've never ever done in the 16 years i've lived here.

i was going to explore hollyhood by foot. it's an amazing place.

first, i had to go back to the car and pick up my camera bag. i still had at least 2 hours to kill before the party. with my old nikon around my neck--i wasn't quite ready to break in the new one yet--i headed back to hollyhood blvd. there i saw a lot of teens traveling in packs, some "hollyhood" types hanging outside hot spot kress, a small assortment of homeless men (no women) and some cops. for some reason i wanted to know all of their back stories.

but since it would have been rather impolite to ask them, i made them up as i walked past them.

i wish i could be that girl.

those street scenes, however, in no way prepared me for what was about to happen outside the club with no name. i was standing in line behind one man and his three female friends. i was immediately annoyed by the manchild. perhaps, needing to hear the sound of his own broken english, he began berating his companions--referring to them as "drunk asses."

he wasn't just jawing. the scantily dressed trio of divas with weavas were lit but one of them appeared to be a little more so than the others. when it became apparent that what ever she had been drinking was not going to remain in her stomach for too much longer, her two girlfriends tried in vain to convince the bouncers to let them in so they could take her to the loo.

too late. one, two, three--oh god, thar she blows!

i know i was never that girl.

thankfully, she and her crew were bounced from the line. five minutes later someone came and poured bleach and sanitizer on her accident.

since the party wasn't supposed to start until 11, i grabbed a seat adjacent to the dance floor and watched the parade. there were a plethora of fools who thought that they were too cool for the room and scores of women in spandex--many of whom shouldn't have been.

i wasn't that girl either. spandex makes me itch.

once i started shooting the guests memories of my own club days flooded my brain. i recalled the days when me and my crew couldn't wait to hit the club. we even had our own theme song.

"the men all pause when i walk into the room."

yeah, we thought we were all that back in the day. and you know what? we were. we really were. we drank, but never had to have anyone hold our real hair up in the bathroom. we danced and flirted and talk s--t. and we always went home with at least five phone numbers unless we had found "the one" for that night.

since the women outnumbered the men, i seriously doubt if any of them found "the one" last night. but i suspect that's not why some of them are here. sometimes it's just cool to tell folks you went to the club last night.

i might have been that girl.

by 1 a.m. the party was winding down and the guests were making their ways to the exits. it had been a very nice affair. there was dancing, a little drinking, chatting, birthday cake, celebrating and networking. the difference between these people and the ones i had met downstairs was that they apparently knew when to leave the party.

i could identify with that. i am that girl.

feets don't fail me now--puhlees!

ok. you know how some people are always a little apprehensive when they have to go to the doctor?

i've never been that person.

usually, the main reason i hate going is because i'd rather stay in bed or wherever else i might be. this morning was no exception. after being prematurely awakened by a pesky east coast editor who can't tell time, the last thing i wanted to do was get dressed and make the 2-mile trek down to cedars on my bike. my bed was begging me not to go.

besides, this was to be my third doctor's visit in less than a month. just eight days ago i'd gone in for my annual physical and was slightly distressed when dr. peters discovered some unsettling things pertaining to my health--or lack thereof.

• one, i was vitamin d deficient and would have to start taking supplements--again (that kind of thing comes and goes in waves because i hate taking pills).
• two, since my mother, her mother and maternal aunt had all had some form of cancer, i might be genetically predisposed to that unwelcome occurrence, too, someday and needed to convince my mother to take some costly genetic screening test to see if i would be adversely affected by the outcome.
• and three, i was told that i might develop arthritis in my flat feet unless i started wearing orthotics. worse yet, my feet could very well be responsible for the perpetual lower back pain i've been experiencing since my last birthday.

joy.

i eventually decided not to cancel or postpone tuesday's appointment but what i thought was going to be a pretty routine office visit soon turned into me being the guinea pig du jour at cedars for a world renown podiatrist. trust, after hearing the price of the orthotics (steep even with insurance), i was actually on my way out to "think about it" when dr. oswell, a lovely woman who has cradled my feet on at least three previous occasions, introduced me to dr. dude (sorry, can't remember his name) just as i was lacing up my sneakers.

her: "would you mind having dr. dude look at you? he's written the books we all study."
me: "uh..."
her: "if you stay you'll get a huge discount on your orthotics."
me: "otay."
her: "you're very lucky he's here. this is a good, good thing."

he was good. there was something very sensual about the way he caressed my feet so i trusted him immediately--even when he started using terms i didn't understand and those i did such as "abnormal." all the other doctors were taking notes and asking questions.

mental note: shouldn't i be a little concerned about my doctor asking dr. dude questions? shouldn't she know this stuff by now? it's been at least 20 years since med school!

i spent the next 40 minutes walking up and down the hallway so that the doctors could examine my gait. it was distressing to hear things like: "can't walk straight," "one hip is higher than the other," "oooh, that bone is in the wrong place," "if we had caught this when she was 10...," and "uh-oh, does that mean?"

me: "what, what?!"

after the x-rays, which revealed even more abnormalities, i'd grown way weary of playing porky. it's one thing to be examined by a purported expert but quite another to take all of this mental abuse just because you wanted to toss your corrective shoes after the third grade and wear penny loafers like all of your friends.

sorry, yet another repressed childhood memory resurfacing in the midnight hour.

so, what does all this mean for lil' miki? i'm not quite sure yet. i have to go back in two weeks to see drs. oswell and dude. although dr. dude is retired and lives in the mountains outside of l.a., he's purportedly making a special trip back to cedars just to share his findings with me and the rest of the class.

i have officially joined the ranks of the apprehensive.

but since i still need my feets i guess i'll have to get over it. i've got a few more pick-up games in me, a lot more tennis, a lifetime of golf and i still love kicking it in my manolos--the most comfortable heels i've ever worn.

hopefully manolo makes a corrective slingback.