Viva Las Vegas

"10 minute fireworks show" WHAT?? 10 minutes?? Last time I saw fireworks in Vegas, they started shooting from the Stratosphere hotel, then it started to rain, Stratosphere paused the fireworks until the rain stopped, after which more fireworks unenthusiastically spat out of the Stratosphere hotel. This year I'm in Vegas once again for 4th of July hanging with my artist friend Jeff Pittarelli.

10 minute fireworks show. 

Not like when we were kids, eh? Blanket on a hill. Picnic basket. All your friends and neighbors. Actually that's exactly what we're doing. But in Vegas. 

4th of July is a state of mind. And while I appreciate Channing Tatum's FB post on the Statue of Liberty, can't we also just see some awesome fireworks? Is that too much to ask? Or do we have to rely on YouTube for that too? 

Dear gods of fireworks 💥, you know the ones that shoot into the sky with a loud boom and then spray different rotating lights in four separate wheels... those... lots and lots of those. If you need us to make a last minute fireworks run, I know a guy in Indio...

Thanks for letting me know

I can just throw away their phone number!

Palm Springs

Spring as the Paaaaalm Springs. Palm as the Paaaalm Springs. Hey guess where I'm going this morning? 

I shop around for sex the same place as everyone else, Facebook. Though not today. Today I'm going to the place where only iguanas go to mate, Palm Springs. My porno has gotten weird(er) as of late.

deus ex machina

Back on FB. Great reconnecting with childhood friends who still live in MN. I'd love to live there again but the winters would kill me. Take a body out of the hard cruel winter elements it's used to, and it gets weak.

There's a saying, "The young look forward, the old reminisce." And I've been doing a lot of that lately, reminiscing. 

Being from MN I always hear the Prince reference. I've never met Prince, and I can only recall attending a show at First Avenue, once. I've been inside First Avenue, many times, but only saw one show. My friends and I had tickets to see Danzig. Opening for the little rocker was Doro Pesch, and opening for her was some unknown band from Seattle called Soundgarden. 

We've all seen the movie Purple Rain, but when I was inside First Avenue, it was a gutted graffiti infested punk rock basement. Maybe it was then too? Regardless, not a place I'd let my hypothetical kid go to. They'd have to lie to me, "I'm spending the night at Sarah's" and  then sneak out of Sarah's house with her, and go. 

Emo crap brought on by...

After two months no period, I got it this month. Goddamnit. WHEN WILL IT END??!!

It was never my plan to have kids. So good. I didn't have any. BUT NOW it's not even an option. Not sure how I feel about that yet. 

I ended up in Los Angeles, by accident. I was just in town visiting. A billion years later, and... 

It's time to go.

I got a GREAT story out of this criminal nutjob for a landlord. I'm writing up a draft as we speak and shopping it around. After reconnecting with my artist friend Jeff Pittarelli, and telling him the story of my insane and criminal landlord along with his horribly dysfunctional family, and being a tenant for 18 months, stalked by this landlord and his insane 50 year old son, Jeff assured me people would read it. 

So there's that.

I love Indio, CA. And my plan is to retire in Palm Springs or Indio, meaning, keep a place there until the day I die, but not be sedentary there.  

Until then, I'm going to make a pit stop in Las Vegas. Hang out with Jeff for a few days who now lives there. Not think about SHIT. Feed some lions. Don't ask. It's something Jeff wants to do and he says we can. Seeing fireworks this year is important to me. I don't know why, it just is. I've seen Las Vegas fireworks but this year it just means something else. I need a clean mental palette. 

I blame all my emo crap on being peri menopausal. I used to be able to handle crazy better. 

I thought living by the ocean was going to be my new lease on life, but instead I'm surrounded by fucking crazy people! Crazy as in, zero ability to live and let live. I firmly believe Venice, is just the dumping ground for unwanted family members. You can live in the Marina Del Rey, hi-rises if you make the money but I alas do not. I can't be around crazy anymore. 

LA is the only place where your LA friends can whine for hours (and hours) that they're sick, and then cop attitude at you for offering to drop off food or medicine.

Mr Gordon, gave birth to the mother of all cows because I lost 2 or 3 photos in the 200 photos I uploaded from my phone onto desktop. Never mind they were my pictures for me, I shot on my phone. He just wanted copies of my pictures. And then he yelled at me.

My ex doesn't understand basic math. Aside from the fact he chose to have kids (twins) while we were breaking up, assuming he knows where babies come from, he wants to pull money out of our retirement plan because he needs money. First of all, in our settlement, he's supposed to pay for the QDRO (division of assets) also there's a 30% penalty for early withdrawal, also you have to pay tax on that, AND QDRO attorneys aren't cheap! But he just wants money now regardless of penalties later. Fucking stupid.

That's so LA. Do first. Think later. 

Drama. Crazy. 

Fuck off. 

I need to reevaluate (everything). As I was telling a loved one yesterday, I'm a pretty good judge of character usually. How did I end up here? Crazy landlord. Crazy job. Crazy ex's. Paying thousands in rent to live in a homeless zombie video game. WTF is wrong with me??

Sorry LA I'm breaking up with you. It's not you, it's me, I don't like being around you anymore.

That,

And you're insane.

You're overpopulated. Everywhere. 

Neighborhoods should only have ONE crazy neighbor, one homeless guy, one fat kid, one witch, one cemetery, one in the closet homosexual...

Ok maybe two. Two closeted homosexuals. I need two. In case one goes out of town, I can hag on the other one. 

I'll be the one minority in the neighborhood people scream the N-word at. Aaaahhhh it'll be just like home sweet home.

Ruby slippers. (Check)

Pulse. (Check)

Suspended slo-mo. (Check)

Let's go!

She lurks him. He lurks me.

I lust Patrick Wilson. You just can't win. And so it goes 'till the day you die. This thing they call love it's gonna make you cry.

Two things. I like seeing if she can manage spelling four letter words correctly. And I like watching her chase after him like a deranged person.

It's ALL good.

Especially when (for once) I'm not the one being stalked by a crazy person!

Maybe one day sweetheart he'll publically say you're beautiful. I doubt it. But everyone's gotta have a dream!

So, come here often?

I'm preparing for the golden oldy years. 

Palm Springs, where fag hags go to die. 

I'm not planning on dying in Palm Springs, but really, who can plan for such things, Dr Kevorkian? (RIP)

April, 2017 I received my first signs of peri menopause. I didn't get my period. And I barely spot for two days in May.

"How is that possible?? You still look like you're 25 years old."

Yes. For the one millionth time, I know. It's a curse really. But that's reality, pumpkin. I'm old. I don't know what happened, a mix up in my hard wiring? Maybe I should sell my piss as magical fountain of youth elixir? 

Nonetheless, it is a transition. Physically it's great. No periods. No more birth control. Not that I'm having sex, but if one day I actually find the time, and interest in someone, there's that.

Sorry Cindy Crawford, as wonderful and sexy as you look today, I was still being carded regularly up until 17 months ago. Letting my natural grey hair grow out has helped a lot, that is, until I take off my sunglasses and people notice I don't have any lines or wrinkles, anywhere. Any then they just look at me all confused. 

Yeah. It's confusing to me too.

Simone Gordon's magical fountain of youth piss elixir. Drink it. Put it in your face. Whatever. And is it weird my first morning pee smells like blueberries? What's that all about?? I DO eat a lot of blueberries, but blueberry pee? That's right folks, my youth piss elixir comes in natural blueberry flavor.

(I totally made myself laugh just now)

I'm convinced I'm going to have a heart attack and/or brain aneurism ANY DAY now. That's the universal payback. Look great all your life. Die young. 

I'm transitioning from naughty schoolgirl to head mistress, teacher, or dirty mommy. Problem with that is, I'm sexually attracted to my age and older, so...

There was one guy, could have been as young as 17 years old, I was sexually attracted to. One guy. ONCE. One time. He looked exactly like someone I knew in high school. Patrick Wilson, but with dark hair, and 17 years old. Home grown MN white boy. Sometimes there really is nothing like home cooking. But at my age you know it's not hormones as much as it is a head trip. Something that trips the triggers. Takes you back. Like my landlord's obsession with young Asian girls, minus the Alzheimers. 

All I do at night is stay home and draw, and watch movies. I didn't want to like La La Land, but I did. There. I said it. A Walk In The Woods, was also good. Oh, and I'm back on Facebook. Kind of. Not really. 

If I'm not getting paid, I'm not leaving my house after 6pm. So let's....

As you know I have a collection of whips, flogs, bondage gear, some rope skills. I'm going to take my magical suitcase on the road, dress the part. I'm thinking tight white button down blouse, tight black skirt to the knees, hair up in a French twist bun, nice stockings, heels, unsuspecting, I have a fake pair of thick black rim glasses around here somewhere...

EDIT: I don't leave my house after 6pm unless I'm getting paid, OR unless it's to see loved ones. Like Aramis, who insists on going to places where one glass of wine costs as much as two nice bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon. -- I just like going to the Guggenheim office, and scaring your security personnel. Look, I'm an artist. I'm SUPPOSED  to dress this way.