24 Hour Party People

Let the Countdown Begin

The week of October 22nd was spent cleaning. I was excited and nervous for my birthday, Michael's arrival, Halloween, and all the fun that would come with. Michael C. is my dear college friend from freshman year at Northwestern. Long phone conversations with Michael saved me when I first moved to California. I remember when I called him about a week after arriving here; he said he hadn't called me because he was afraid I was dead. What a friend. Anyway, we decided Michael was coming to visit for my birthday and Halloween. I had to convince someone to come out here and experience a proper WeHo Hollyween. All week I cleaned my house in preparation, I couldn't eat, I couldn't really sleep, I was anxious and excited. I had this sick desire to make sure everything was "perfect" for his visit. I planned our activities for each day on a calendar. I hadn't seen him in a year, and I wanted to make his visit count. I had more energy than usual and used it to scrub my bathtub, clean out my desk, wash the guest bedding, and re-organize the kitchen cabinets.

Tuesday night I joined a few friends to celebrate John Ross's birthday. We met at a Mexican Restaurant on Beverly and ended up laughing really hard about something really stupid. For some reason the conversation turned to Urkel--yes Steve Urkel of "Family Matters" fame. Apparently Sarah P. saw Jaleel White at a party she went to a few months earlier. Unfortunately she didn't get to talk to him, but the story led to me bringing up Urkel's catch phrase "Got any Cheese" and suddenly, Sarah, Eleni and I were laughing hysterically over "got any cheese." We weren't on any drugs, we hadn't even had alcohol, it was just so absurd. "Got any cheese" why is that funny? But it is! It's hysterical. As is "Did I do that." What is it about early 90's humor? Say it with me: "Got any Cheese?" It feels right, doesn't it? Urkel would like fall into a bookcase then say "Did I do that?" Then he'd skulk into a room and inquire "got any cheese?" HAHAHAHA! BRILLIANT!

Halloween Party

Friday night I was still preparing for Michael's arrival, and I went to a Halloween Party thrown by Blake S. and Mike K. I didn't want to use my peacock costume on Friday because it was still missing a few finishing touches. Instead, I zipped over to the 99 Cent Store and picked up a witch hat. I paired it with my favorite orange vintage dress (which I stole from the set of Robert's Niteskool Video) and an ugly pair of heels which were downright "witchy." Voila! A simple, functional Halloween costume. Both hosts had smart costumes: Blake was a Seussian "Thing 1" and Mike was a chaplain-esc figure complete with bowler hat and mustache. The party was a nice shin-dig with various NU peoples dressed in their Halloween finery. All week I had been nursing an unhealthy level of nervousness/anticipation. Due to my nervous non-eating, I got drunk pretty quickly at the party. Claudia came with A.J.* and announced that they were back together. It was surreal beacuse I was wasted, dressed as a witch, and suddenly A.J. was back. He stressed to me that he wanted to make a fresh start and was looking forward to hanging out with all of us again. He's sweet boy, and hopefully things will work out. We hung out on the balcony and talked. Robert and I left around 2 AM, and I stuffed copious amounts of candy into my purse on the way out the door.

*It should also be noted that once I developed the photos for this party I noticed something. A.J.'s shirt looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then I thought, Jenna. Jenna has that shirt! A.J. openly admits to wearing women's jeans, and so it made me wonder, was he wearing a woman's shirt? Then I realized that Jenna wears men's shirts. Then I had a headache. Either way, I find this highly amusing:

24

Saturday was Le Birthday, and actually it was a very very nice one. I woke up early--I was restless and I had to pick up Michael from the airport--and received several thoughtful phone calls from friends all over the country. The sun was shining, it was warm outside, the sky was blue--a beautiful day by any standard.
Traffic at LAX was horrendous as always, and I ended up sloppily parking in the taxi lane, hazards a-blazin'. I called Michael on the phone and got out of the car, unbeknownst to me he was walking towards me, and in the distance we saw each other, at which point he remarked "that's not you in the white is it?" I don't know if this was a good or a bad comment. I guess I was looking L.A: wearing the J.Lo jumpsuit, big sunglasses, and big hair. Michael's hair was much longer than it was last I saw him, and I found it a little frightening at first. However, by the time he was in the car, everything was as it had always been and it was as if no time had passed.
Michael was eager to see the ocean, so we drove out to Dockweiler beach, not far from LAX at all. Ever enthusiastic, he ran into the water, and I sat on a blanket on the shore watching the sandpipers run up and down the beach. It was so weird that Michael was in L.A. and I was 24. It was very calming to sit on the beach with my thoughts so early in the morning. I felt a great sense of self, and embraced it.
We left Dockweiler beach and drove up to Santa Monica. We walked about the 3rd Street Promenade. I had held high hopes for the Spanish store Zara, which is supposed to be an H&M equivalent. However, the prices were high, and the clothing underwhelming. We walked down to the Santa Monica Pier and people watched.
After leaving Santa Monica, we drove back to Hollywood and Michael had his first taste of In-N-Out Burger. Very tasty indeed. We went back to my apartment, and met up with Robert. I showered and took a nap before the birthday dinner later that night.

At 8pm a great gaggle of friends gathered and shared a nice dinner at Red Corner Asia, my favorite Thai restaurant in Thai Town. It was quite a crowd: Michael, me, Robert and Sarah, Noel and Patrick, Susan P., Deirdre and Karl, Claudia and A.J., Aaron, Adam S., Morgan, and Steve. We had quite a feast, appetizers, Singha beer, delicious entrees, and a special fried ice cream dessert for me. The ice cream was shared at the table because after my beers and appetizers, and panag curry I was ready to pop. Red Corner Asia has the best panag, damn! There was a large group at the table across from us, also celebrating a birthday. Steve swore up and down that the birthday boy was the actor from Beastmaster. Beastmaster was this show about a warrior-esc dude in fur boots that could talk to the animals, walk with the animals... it was Dr. Doolittle meets Conan the Barbarian...or something. Anyway, dinner was delicious and nice. I love having my friends meet each other, talk and laugh, and have a good time.
After dinner we walked back to my apartment. Steve knew of a halloween party going on that night, and we decided to go over and partake. Steve went home to change into his sailor suit, and a few people called it a night. The rest of us went over to the party sans costumes, and enjoyed some Halloween merriment.
The house was in Hollywood and decorated to the theme of Carrie. There was a bloody "Carrie" on the roof of the garage, Prom decorations, and phrases from the movie incorporated into the decorations. There was good music, tons of alcohol (considering we got there at midnight), candy, and everyone was in costume (but us). I was pretty beat by this time, but it was good to be at such a hardcore Halloween party. There was a drunk rollergirl who couldn't skate, 4 Indiana Jones, a SIM, a redneck, Steve's friend Maryann was dressed as a Gorilla Guerilla, (gorilla mask and fatigues), but my favorite was a girl dressed as "Small Wonder," brilliant! [Regarding the picture at right, I have no idea who the guy on the far right is. He was supposed to be a Chef from Battlestar Gallactica...or something].
We rolled home around 2AM, turned the clocks back and passed out.

Los Angeles

Michael had wanted to see the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels while in town. I had told him about the beautiful architecture, and he was eager to see it himself. However, he had whined about getting up early and going to mass Saturday night, and we had had a bit of a passive agressive tiff. I said something along the lines of, "I'm going to go, and If you don't want to come, then I don't want you there." He came. Later he thanked me for making him come. I think Michael's hangup was that he has been going through some religious questioning, and was not wanting to sit through mass. However, he was happy he went, as it forced him to think about some things he hadn't wanted to think about. The choir at the cathedral is very good, and while we were singing along, one of the ushers approached Michael and asked him if he lived in L.A., as he should be in the choir. Too bad he lives in Chicago! After mass we walked the grounds, taking in the tapestries, the mausoleum, the meditation garden, the fountains, the sculpture. It was very nice. We took a nice photo in the meditation garden, and it reminds me of one of those engagement pictures in the NY Times. Tehehe!

After church we went to Target, and picked up a few provisions, then headed home. There we changed, and prepared for a hike in Griffith Park. Upon reaching Griffith Park we learned that the park was closed. How do you close a public park?! Only in Los Angeles. The Griffith Observatory had just reopened after years of renovation, and there was some celebrity gala or something that day. Instead, we left Griffith Park and drove over to Runyon Canyon, which also provides a good hike and a great view of the city. People hike with their dogs and there are usually some colorful characters on the trail. We hiked to the top, and took in the view, our legs burning. The sneakers I hike in have no traction, and as such I have a (valid) fear of sliding and falling on my ass on the way down an incline. I was going downhill at a snails pace; Michael said I needed to "cross-hatch" or walk in a diagonal or something. I was trying to do this, and ended up looking like a fool, and we laughed downhill. Some punky kids were hiking in tractionless Vans and they were walking with caution too. We decided to follow another trail, and saw a few characters: a blonde with gigantic fake breasts in a tiny t-shirt walking with her husband/boyfriend, a group of men walking police dogs and arguing as to whether or not men had fallopian tubes, a little puppy taking a nasty #2 in the middle of the trail, some lost British women arguing about where they were. We made it back to the car and headed home for a fine rib dinner.
To be true to tradition, I baked a fine rack of ribs for Michael and I. We enjoyed some beers, some AbFab and a delicious dinner. It was a fine culmination to an enriching day.

Last Minute Costume Changes

Monday I went to work, and Michael spent the day creating his Halloween costume. I'd forewarned him that the costumes in WeHo were fierce, and that the Queens were playing to win: there would be no exceptions for the unprepared. At first Michael had thought of being a flamingo, to fit with my bird theme. Then he decided at the last minute to be a French Cortesan and arrived in L.A. with a huge pack of quilt batting, which he would use to create his wig. By the time I came home at 6pm on Monday, the wig had gone from non-existant to 2 feet in height. It was quite impressive. Michael and I ate leftovers and worked on his costume. Sarah, Robert's girlfriend, was trying to decide what she and Robert would be. She didn't know whether to buy or sew a costume, or what they should dress up as. I still needed to put a few finishing touches on my costume. I wanted to sew a purse/bag where I could put my flask and other Halloween night necessitites. Michael met up with another Northwestern friend for dinner, and Sarah and I went to the fabric store. I stayed up pretty late sewing, and was grumpy and frustrated. Things were coming together though; I'd bought fake hair during my lunch break and just had to pick up Claudia's eyeshadow. Halloween was tomorrow and I had to make sure things went smoothly.

WeHo Hollyween II

Halloween was finally here and I was excited. Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, in fact maybe it is my favorite, it or Christmas, but I might like it better than Christmas. You get to eat candy and dress up! Who could ask for more? I went to work anxious. My Italian boss was entertaining our Japanese business partners. We had to dress "professionally" so he hadn't allowed me to wear my witch hat to work. Instead I wore an orange top with black pants. Throughout the day I was panicing: what was going on tonight? John and Sarah P. had tenatively agreed to do a pre-party at their apartment. However, John was busy at work and was not giving me straight answers. Aaron kept bugging me for details, and I was freaking out. I called Michael from the bathroom at work, anxious and rambling. He calmed me down, and I went back to work. Sarah P. called me and said she was making cider and candied apples, and that everything was under control. Phew! Now I was freaking out about getting home and having time to get dressed. I had to get out of work early. I had already gotten Nov. 1 off in preparation. I busted my butt at work, and called everyone I was supposed to call on Oct. 31 and Nov. 1. I talked to my push-over boss (the same one who let me go home when I projectile vomited) and convinced him to let me skip my lunch and leave an hour early. At 4pm, Italian boss had returned and I had to let him know that I was leaving. I was a little nervous, but I knew he wouldn't revoke my request. Instead he left me with these words of advice: "Be careful what you pick uptonight, little girl." I laughed, surprised at his bluntness, but pleased that he was to the point. He then followed with, "I meant candy!" Sure he did.

I sped home, stopping at Claudia's apartment to pick up her eyeshadow. Susan P. had driven up from San Diego that afternoon and was waiting at my apartment with Michael. I ran in the apartment, hopped in the shower, hopped out, and started flat ironing my hair. Michael was assembling his costume. Susan helped me finish my purse, while I assembled a hairpiece out of the fake hair I had bought the day before on my lunch break. I wadded up a sarong and covered it in bubble wrap. Then I wrapped fake hair over it. It looked like an oblong ball with 3 long ponytails coming off the end. Then, armed with several hundred bobby pins, Susan and I attached the ball of hair to my real hair, pinning it in place. We did a homemade weave, and really Susan did most of the work; I couldn't have done it without her. She anchored my hair in place and added peacock feathers while I applied my makeup. Robert came home with Sarah and they changed into Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. Michael powdered his face and applied his makeup. Susan changed into her costume: an Asian tourist (PC Cringe). We all frantically primped and dressed, and ran about the apartment. Then we piled into the car and drove over to John and Sarah's.

John and Sarah's apartment had all the aroma of a fine fall day in the midwest. Sarah made spiced cider, which we drank with rum. The table was covered in homemade candied apples. Sarah was Vampire Spinach, and wore a spinach green bathmat as a skirt with vampire teeth. John dressed up as Mrs. New York and applied press on nails at the table. Aaron arrived, dressed as a pimp. Deirdre came as a ship's captain with Cameron. It kind of looked like a CRC reunion, almost everyone there had lived in the Communications Residential College at Northwestern. In a way it was really weird: here we all were, years later, in a city miles away, reunited at Halloween. It reminded all of us of the carefree days of college. We boozed up and packed our flasks before leaving for the parade.

We walked several blocks from John's house to the West Hollywood Halloween Parade, but it was faster, (and much safer) than driving. The walk was an adventure, because as we passed the cars stuck in traffic they gawked, honked, and cat-called. We picked up more Halloween freaks along the way, passing a gaggle of Borat's in neon green nutsling bikinis. We had wanted to arrive at the parade in time to catch a performance by K-Fed, but unfortunately we missed him. We had been running late all night, and had stopped along the way to pee at a Koo Koo Roo. As it turned out, K-Fed was booed off stage rather quickly, so there wouldn't have been much to see.
























We walked several miles that night, and truthfully, most of the evening is a warm fuzzy blur. It was the usual sensory overload, but I felt like I didn't notice as much this year, like I was more aware of my immediate surroundings: me, my friends, getting through the stifling mob safely--than I was of the costumes and the crazies around me. The vendors were out selling hotdogs wrapped in bacon, the crowd was drunk and crazy. There were a few memorable costumes: a drag Madonna on rollerskates carrying a babydoll, a gaggle of Ugly Bettys in sweaters, another peacock.

We walked and looked around, talked, took pictures, and tried to locate Claudia, A.J. and Andrew who arrived on the Boulevard later than us. It's damn near impossible to find anyone in the crowd on Santa Monica Blvd., but somehow, we found them. However, the reunion was brief, because by the time they arrived, we were all exhausted from the walking.







We turned around and started walking back. Really it was a drunken stumble with the occassional outburst of "Got any Cheese!" We must have walked about 5 miles that night, but I was filled with the spirit of Halloween--or something--and walked and walked with gusto.












We got back to the apartment, bindged on candy, and then drove back to my apartment to remove the many bobby pins from my hair and pass out. It all came and went so quickly. I couldn't help but feel a little unfulfiled, as if I had somehow missed Halloween. All I can do is think of another costume, plan another Halloween extravaganza, and wait in anticipation for next October to come.

The Getty

At work, I had wisely requested Wednesday off. I made a nice waffle breakfast for Susan, Michael, and I. Susan drove back to San Diego for work, and Michael and I drove up to The Getty Museum for a fine day of culture. J. Paul Getty was a lover of the arts and his Trust provides philanthropic support for the arts. "The Getty", as it is referred to, is a spectacular museum in Los Angeles featuring "European sculptures, drawings, paintings, illuminated manuscripts, decorative arts, and European and American photographs" (www.getty.edu). The museum is also home to beautiful gardens. The collections are housed in different buildings with a courtyard in the middle. Concerts and other events are held in the courtyard--a few months ago Aaron and I went and saw The Red Crayola (a experimental psycadellic band from the 60s) perform--it was spectacular!The museum has a great open air quality--you are free to walk about the grounds, and even indoors the California sunshine streams in--in fact, the paintings are housed on the top floors of each building so that they can be viewed under natural light: the type of light in which they were painted. Best of all, admission to the Getty is free; the only charge is $7 for parking. It is definitely a must see.
Michael and I walked around the Getty all day long. It was thrilling to see Greecian urns--real Greecian urns--that were made thousands of years ago! I was face to face with objects I had only seen in text books. It was so weird! Especially when you are face to face with a painting by Degas or Monet--it's right there! I really enjoyed the illuminated manuscripts: hand painted Gospel pages that took Monks years to complete. There was a building that featured 17th Century French furniture from the court of Louis XIV. The Rigaud painting featured in the Wikipedia entry for Louis XIV hangs at the Getty. I stood in front of it, drinking in the details. Being surrouned by carefully crafted, beautiful things put me at peace. I was taken to another place, another world, and the worries and concerns of my own life melted away. I wondered what it would have been like to live the lives of these artists, in another country, another time, another place, another set of circumstances. You can lose yourself in the little details: the brushstrokes, the cracks in the paint, the initials on the canvas.
One particular Grecian bust gave me an odd vibe. Perhaps Michael and I have watched too many episodes of Montel featuring Silvia Brown, but we felt "evil" if you will "vibrations" coming from one of the busts. Seriously. Standing near this piece gave me the feeling that whoever the man was, he led a troubled life. The bust gave me the chills, and seemed to reach into my chest. I took a picture of it; you can examine it and judge for yourself.
Michael and I ate a little snack outside in the sun. We sat in the grass, and then we rolled down the hill like little children. We walked in the garden, smelling the flowers, examining the variety of the plants. It was really a very very nice day. What a beautiful gift to the people from J. Paul Getty.
We later returned inside and looked at the modern American photography, which Michael particulary enjoyed. Then we continued our tour of the drawings and sculptures, before heading home around 6pm. We made enchiladas and guacamole and topped off the night with a few episodes of AbFab. What a wonderful, productive alternative to work.

Dancin'

Thursday I returned to work, and decided that Robert and I should take Michael to the Short Stop that night. We ate leftovers, and I took a nap before waking at 9:30 to get dressed and go out. The three of us piled into the car and headed over to my favorite bar. We had the usual kind welcome at the door and had a few PBR's before hitting the dancefloor, and did we hit it hard. The DJ on Thursday nights is very good. He plays a lot of new wave, post punk, and Prince, all of which I particularly dig. Of course, if you want to dance like a madman bring out Michael C. I don't recall the last time I danced as hard. I wore a tanktop with a light wide-neck sweatshirt over it. I was sweating my shirt off. The shirt was stretched and falling off, but we kept dancing. The DJ was on fire! They played some old shit: JJ Fad's "Supersonic" and Vanity 6 "Nasty Girl" some Salt N Pepa, and then my guilty pleasure, some Justin Timberlake. Robert was dancing happily, and the 3 of us were going wild for a good 2 hours. By the end of the night I was drinking water just to stay hydrated. We left the club around 1:30 AM and sped down Sunset Blvd. blasting some phat jams. "Sex Shooter" came on as we were pulling into the parking garage at home, and we blasted the song and danced until it was over. It was such a great moment, just dancing in the parking garage at 2 AM, so carefree, so happy, and so fulfilled.

A Final Party

Friday I went to work, and afterwards Michael and I went to Griffith Park for a hike. We hiked from the base of the mountain and followed a trail I hadn't tried before. Being a Friday afternoon, the park was pretty quiet, and we were isolated as we treked along. I kept telling Michael stories I'd heard about moutain lions, and to be fair it was a little creepy at times. I found a walking stick along the way and we were like Moses and Aaron hiking to the top of Mount Sinai--at least that's what we joked about. It was serene and beautiful, with only a handful of people along the way. For whatever reason I had gas--not smelly gas, but gassy stinkless gas. Tired of stifling my farts, I let Michael know that I would be tuting up the hill. That's when I truly realized how deep and special our friendship was. We took a somewhat isolated trail to a peak and gazed down on Glendale and other nearby cities. It was a lovely way to spend Michael's last evening in Los Angeles.

We returned to the apartment and Michael made dinner while I took a nap. We had a nice pasta, then dressed for the joint birthday party for John R. and I at John and Sarah's apartment. We arrived with two 30 packs of beer, chips, and salsa. The evite had been sent out at the last minute, with a short guestlist. Accordingly the turnout was lower than we'd expected, but was a success by any measure: all the people I wanted to be there, were.

There was plenty of booze, and Sarah and Eleni had baked a delicious homemade chocolate cake with an orange frosting. Yum! All the usual friends were there and a few of us ended up talking into the wee hours of the morning. Sarah and Eleni retreated to Sarah's bedroom--sick from drink. John, Michael, me, and Claudia talked and shared stories. Andrew came with an actress from his thesis project that he was trying to pick up. A.J. had a man-to-man talk with Andrew after the girl left, and ended up winning Andrew over. Michael and I finally drove home around 3AM and passed out in my bed. I wanted to snuggle with him a little before he left, and I made the comment that we hadn't laid in bed together since freshman year in college--only now we were both aware that he was/is gay. It was a nice way to bring things full circle.

In the morning we were both hungover and I made a nice breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon--Michael said it smelled like Bob Evans and didn't eat much. He packed his things and Robert and I drove him to the airport. We drove past the La Brea tarpits on the way, then drove up Rodeo Drive. We stopped off in Brentwood and hit up Diddy Reese, an ice cream shop where they make fresh ice cream sandwiches with fresh baked cookies: you pick the ice cream and the cookies for only $1.50. Michael was still too sick to eat, but Robert and I munched away. We walked around downtown Brentwood and then drove off to LAX. We hugged Michael goodbye, and I wailed and moaned dramatically. Then we drove home. It had been a long, exciting, exhausting week. I felt somewhat confused and lost: so far was I from my typical routine, what exactly had I done before Michael visisted? It was all a haze. That night Robert and I met up with John, Sarah, Andrew, and a few of his friends and saw Borat. We laughed and laughed, then headed back to John and Sarah's to watch tv, drink a little, and eat leftover cake.

Sunday, I started putting my life back together: cleaning the house, trying to update the blog, and planning the coming week. I was 24. I had friends in my life who cared about me. I had lived in Los Angeles for one year. I could do anything.