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Supposed to see the old year out at Ocean Thunder drinking and dancing while the Satellite Cowboys played their farewell gig.
Instead when I came home from the store, I collapsed and watched Dogtown and the Z-Boys (documentary) and The Lords of Dogtown (fictionalization of the same material) back to back.
I fell asleep long before midnight, and so missed the magic bridge between 2005 and 2006, that infinitesimal portal in time after the clock strikes midnight but before the next hour begins.
One of these years…
Anyway, I was socialized out. Dinner party at the L_______s night before last. Worst enchiladas I've ever eaten. Mingled with real estate barons. Bit my tongue when Brokeback Mountain came up in conversation and one of the real estate barons – a well-meaning guy but ignorant, ignorant, ignorant – said, "Well, we've just gotta get used to them. I mean, they're everywhere, the gays."
Should I have said something? I used to be famous for ruining dinner parties. "I'm sorry but I can't sit at a table with a bigot like you," I'd announce very loudly and storm off.
But that was back when I was a writer. Before I became a businesswoman.
Earlier that afternoon, J____ had conscripted me for a heart to heart about his errant son. Another crisis – night before the boys had gone out carousing. Ditched C____'s truck by the side of the road and went off to blow reefer in Poppy Hills. Pebble Beach technically is not a town at all but a private corporation; the security staff has discretion in search and seizure that over-ride protections offered by 4th Amendment. These kids are supposed to be so smart but really they are very stupid plus they suffer from a bad case of Entitlement. C____ had an open bottle of vodka in the car; N____ was carrying an ounce of dope.
Apparently J____ didn't know the extent of N____'s recreational drug habits. I've known for over a year but I didn't think it was my place to tell him.
"You have to think of some way to connect with him," I told J___. "Isn't there something the two of you do together? Fishing? Hiking?"
"I thought that was what the road trip was supposed to be," snapped D____ who was sitting there with us. "When you drove him to Yale. Other kids could fly! But not N_____. Can I tell you something? I'm fucking sick of you connecting with N_____. Excuse my language –"
"I've heard that word before," I said.
"N_____ does not need another trip to Disneyland. N______ does not need another trip to Europe. I'd like a trip to Disneyland! I've never even been to Europe! N____ needs somebody to kick his ass!"
"We'll talk more some other time," I murmur to J___, smiling radiantly at D____.
Also last night had a very disturbing dream that somebody showed up at my front door with the gutted corpse of my cat. My cat has a history of disappearing for long periods of time. She spent Tuesday night sleeping on my bed, took off Wednesday and hasn't been seen since. As I say, it's happened before. And anyway, she's not a particularly nice cat. Still I'm fond of her, I worry about her when I don't know where she is and the dream wasn't a good way to start a new year.
Instead when I came home from the store, I collapsed and watched Dogtown and the Z-Boys (documentary) and The Lords of Dogtown (fictionalization of the same material) back to back.
I fell asleep long before midnight, and so missed the magic bridge between 2005 and 2006, that infinitesimal portal in time after the clock strikes midnight but before the next hour begins.
One of these years…
Anyway, I was socialized out. Dinner party at the L_______s night before last. Worst enchiladas I've ever eaten. Mingled with real estate barons. Bit my tongue when Brokeback Mountain came up in conversation and one of the real estate barons – a well-meaning guy but ignorant, ignorant, ignorant – said, "Well, we've just gotta get used to them. I mean, they're everywhere, the gays."
Should I have said something? I used to be famous for ruining dinner parties. "I'm sorry but I can't sit at a table with a bigot like you," I'd announce very loudly and storm off.
But that was back when I was a writer. Before I became a businesswoman.
Earlier that afternoon, J____ had conscripted me for a heart to heart about his errant son. Another crisis – night before the boys had gone out carousing. Ditched C____'s truck by the side of the road and went off to blow reefer in Poppy Hills. Pebble Beach technically is not a town at all but a private corporation; the security staff has discretion in search and seizure that over-ride protections offered by 4th Amendment. These kids are supposed to be so smart but really they are very stupid plus they suffer from a bad case of Entitlement. C____ had an open bottle of vodka in the car; N____ was carrying an ounce of dope.
Apparently J____ didn't know the extent of N____'s recreational drug habits. I've known for over a year but I didn't think it was my place to tell him.
"You have to think of some way to connect with him," I told J___. "Isn't there something the two of you do together? Fishing? Hiking?"
"I thought that was what the road trip was supposed to be," snapped D____ who was sitting there with us. "When you drove him to Yale. Other kids could fly! But not N_____. Can I tell you something? I'm fucking sick of you connecting with N_____. Excuse my language –"
"I've heard that word before," I said.
"N_____ does not need another trip to Disneyland. N______ does not need another trip to Europe. I'd like a trip to Disneyland! I've never even been to Europe! N____ needs somebody to kick his ass!"
"We'll talk more some other time," I murmur to J___, smiling radiantly at D____.
Also last night had a very disturbing dream that somebody showed up at my front door with the gutted corpse of my cat. My cat has a history of disappearing for long periods of time. She spent Tuesday night sleeping on my bed, took off Wednesday and hasn't been seen since. As I say, it's happened before. And anyway, she's not a particularly nice cat. Still I'm fond of her, I worry about her when I don't know where she is and the dream wasn't a good way to start a new year.
