a time to smile--again
it has been a horrendously stressful week. another health scare with dad. extreme back pain. more disappointing news. so, i needed a sunny sunday. thankfully, my wish was His command.
it all started out really well. despite my vicodin hangover i made it to the 8 a.m. service at west angeles and was extremely elated that no one gave me attitude because i wasn't wearing first sunday sequins like 95 percent of the other women.
i was, however, blinded by the bling--particularly the multi-carat ice adorning the hands of pauletta washington (mrs. denzel) and cookie johnson (mrs. magic).
two hours later i headed over to the larchmont farmer's market. if i'm in l.a. there's no place i'd rather be on a sunday morning than larchmont village--mostly because it doesn't feel like l.a.
it gives me peace.
although i'm usually alone when i go to the market i'm never really alone. more often than not i'm on my iphone talking to a friend on the east coast. this morning it was marilyn monroe--yes, that's her real name. marilyn, who lives on long island, is a great listener and an even better storyteller so our conversations are always lively. plus she has this amazing ability to bring you out of the deepest funk, and can be very encouraging, too. this morning she convinced me that buying a small tin of five-cheese, high fat, severely caloric, artery-clogging mac-and-cheese would be a very, very good thing.
she was right. i bought it and served it up with the bbq tofu, baked beans and salad i had for dinner. sure, it raised my blood pressure 16 points but was well worth it.
my initial plan once i returned home was to spend a quiet afternoon reading my new books--"vegan soul kitchen" and "let's get it on"--but i got a little antsy after dinner and hit the road. i was hoping that i could convince my friend janet to play tennis.
that didn't happen.
she wanted to watch the fakers and nothing depresses me more these days than the thought of them winning another NBA title. so, i came home, drew a bath and was all set to settle down with jill nelson's sexual tome but i couldn't keep my eyes open. after taking a little disco nap in the tub i retired to the living room to watch a little tv. nothing in my 300-channel universe piqued my interest so i decided to watch an awards show.
i have never ever watched the tony awards but i was curious after reading several posts on how cool tonight's show was on facebook. and although most of the nominees and shows (save for the revivals) were unfamiliar to me, i found the vibe rather engaging. broadway is like this giant cesspool of acceptance.
bring me your blacks, your whites, your straights, your gays, your young, your old and everyone in between.
wouldn't mind going to that after-party--especially with the folks who were in that room.
like liza minnelli, damn, she's sounding just like her mom. wow, susan sarandon's gown is hella tight. neil patrick harris, the boy done good--especially on that closing number. how nice that the first winner mentioned diana sands. elton john, forever the diva. anne hathaway, stunning. james gandolfini is in a broadway show? who the hell is hallie foote and that chick who is screaming her acceptance speech? why does almost everyone accepting awards have a british accent? is there no work at the old vic? ah, tasha richardson. she was so cool.
man, i just realized that i've interviewed all of those people except the guy whose name i can't remember, the late diana sands, that hallie chick and the screamer.
anyway, i digress.
as sundays go today won't be all that memorable because other than watching the tonys i didn't do anything out of the ordinary. at church bishop blake reminded us how lucky we were to still be alive.that's true. my biggest blessing, however, is that my dad made it through.
here's hoping the sun comes out tomorrow, too.
it all started out really well. despite my vicodin hangover i made it to the 8 a.m. service at west angeles and was extremely elated that no one gave me attitude because i wasn't wearing first sunday sequins like 95 percent of the other women.
i was, however, blinded by the bling--particularly the multi-carat ice adorning the hands of pauletta washington (mrs. denzel) and cookie johnson (mrs. magic).
two hours later i headed over to the larchmont farmer's market. if i'm in l.a. there's no place i'd rather be on a sunday morning than larchmont village--mostly because it doesn't feel like l.a.
it gives me peace.
although i'm usually alone when i go to the market i'm never really alone. more often than not i'm on my iphone talking to a friend on the east coast. this morning it was marilyn monroe--yes, that's her real name. marilyn, who lives on long island, is a great listener and an even better storyteller so our conversations are always lively. plus she has this amazing ability to bring you out of the deepest funk, and can be very encouraging, too. this morning she convinced me that buying a small tin of five-cheese, high fat, severely caloric, artery-clogging mac-and-cheese would be a very, very good thing.
she was right. i bought it and served it up with the bbq tofu, baked beans and salad i had for dinner. sure, it raised my blood pressure 16 points but was well worth it.
my initial plan once i returned home was to spend a quiet afternoon reading my new books--"vegan soul kitchen" and "let's get it on"--but i got a little antsy after dinner and hit the road. i was hoping that i could convince my friend janet to play tennis.
that didn't happen.
she wanted to watch the fakers and nothing depresses me more these days than the thought of them winning another NBA title. so, i came home, drew a bath and was all set to settle down with jill nelson's sexual tome but i couldn't keep my eyes open. after taking a little disco nap in the tub i retired to the living room to watch a little tv. nothing in my 300-channel universe piqued my interest so i decided to watch an awards show.
i have never ever watched the tony awards but i was curious after reading several posts on how cool tonight's show was on facebook. and although most of the nominees and shows (save for the revivals) were unfamiliar to me, i found the vibe rather engaging. broadway is like this giant cesspool of acceptance.
bring me your blacks, your whites, your straights, your gays, your young, your old and everyone in between.
wouldn't mind going to that after-party--especially with the folks who were in that room.
like liza minnelli, damn, she's sounding just like her mom. wow, susan sarandon's gown is hella tight. neil patrick harris, the boy done good--especially on that closing number. how nice that the first winner mentioned diana sands. elton john, forever the diva. anne hathaway, stunning. james gandolfini is in a broadway show? who the hell is hallie foote and that chick who is screaming her acceptance speech? why does almost everyone accepting awards have a british accent? is there no work at the old vic? ah, tasha richardson. she was so cool.
man, i just realized that i've interviewed all of those people except the guy whose name i can't remember, the late diana sands, that hallie chick and the screamer.
anyway, i digress.
as sundays go today won't be all that memorable because other than watching the tonys i didn't do anything out of the ordinary. at church bishop blake reminded us how lucky we were to still be alive.that's true. my biggest blessing, however, is that my dad made it through.
here's hoping the sun comes out tomorrow, too.
1 comment:
you interviewed diana sands? wow.
glad the mac & cheese made you happy...happy to know that daddy turner is hanging in.
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