Sunshine Cleaning

Anyone seen this movie? I just netflixed it (the verb, to netflix) and I have mixed reviews on it. Basic premise is that two sisters start a cleaning company that cleans places where people die  - be it through natural causes or otherwise. If it sounds sorta gruesome,  it is. There is some heavy backstory about suicide, which is hard to watch this week due to an anniversary of a dear friend who left the planet that way five years ago. And that's not why I didn't love it. The main reason I was sans love is that I found it a little clunky in the dialogue department. It was a little "Hey! Here's how I'm feeling. Oh you didn't ask? Oh that's okay -let me tell you anyway, yes! Here comes a monologue!"

Ohmygod! It's just like blogging. Harumph. Well, that's a revelation. So here comes a monologue - even though you didn't ask.

This motherhood thing is for sure the craziest experience I've ever had. I've never been so simultaneously strung out and annoyed and enchanted and bored and overcome by love surges all the while wondering how I can make it to 7:30 pm. (aka: bedtime) and then miss the little sweetfaced dude when he's asleep. I mean, that is seriously koo-koo-pants. Can anyone relate?

Let me illustrate my little reality with a little story.

The other day I needed to go see a man about some shots in our short film that we are trying to fix up. The shots are not happy because of some evil combo platter that happened between our dolly speed, shutter angle, f-stop and craft service coffee chemistry. Basically the shot is a jumping, juddering mess and it's nobody's fault but I don't know, god. So there are these people who are like god's in fact that they have giant machines that might be able to use their fancy logarithms to fill in the frames and make this pretty, pretty shot live on in our opening sequence. Here is a still from it - you'll see why I want to keep it. 

Scott Subiono as Jonathan in Nov 1st. 

(I love how blue and sparkly the look is and the dolly move is pretty darn cool too).

So! I go to see the men about this moving picture. But as you all know, there is this little man who must accompany me in this meeting because, well, that's my life. Despite the fact that I need to go and act like a hot-shit professional to encourage said men with fancy machines to give us a screaming deal on their fixing skills, I need to first:

a) wait out the insanely long nap that would usually be welcome but of course made me late

b) change the poopy diaper that threatened to wipe me out of an entire case of wipes

c) figure out what a WAHM/Director chic wears and how to best accessorize with my son who will be strapped to my back. Here is a model wearing him as I did that day...

Kim Rhodes wears BHB in the Ergo on a recent hike. Good grief she is pretty. She is in our movie doncha know.

He of course felt it was important to bring a tennis ball in one hand and an adorable but rather large alpaca stuffed toy that sat right behind my right ear and mocked me the whole time. I cracked myself up doing the very literal dance of marching through the giant facility going on about my credits and blablah director me and why they should invest in me and our film by helping us out all the while hopping, bouncing and entertaining the boy by shaking my butt and getting him to giggle. Thankfully the nice man was a Dad but I'm not quite sure how he kept a straight face.

Two days later I don't know yet whether they can fix our broken shot, and also very importantly whether they think free-ish is a good price. But I do know that the women in the fancy, fancy lobby thought he was very cute and lil BHB thought the giant machines and beautiful theatre where they projected our movie was awesome.

Maybe these worlds can live together.

Your favorite SAHMDC,

The Girl In the Cafe

This day, today, was sweet and fun and magical. And this day had some fun that exemplifies why I love where we live. One of about 113 reasons. In fact, I think I shall name them one by one in subsequent posts. Are we staying where we live you ask? Likely. Is it for sure? No. Is that fun? No. But I'm thinking the most positive thoughts that I have access to. (thank you Abraham)

Here is the story:

Today we met with one of the actors who is in our short film, Eddie Jones. Here is a truly delightful man, and holy crap is he talented. But I digress.

We met to have the lunch and provide a sharpie to him so that he may sign the still photos from our movie. Soon we will ship these out to our backers who paid above a certain level who get these cool still's from the movie with the fancy signatures. So there we were having our turkey burgers and laughing and Eddie was signing away while I drank bottomless iced tea.

Next to us was this a delightful man kept joining our conversation in an enjoyable rather than annoying way. Which as you can imagine is a tough line to walk, but he managed to. Turns out he is a writer who used to write on the TV show Becker. And since somehow Ted Danson had come up in the conversation, he piped in that Ted Danson happens to be a super swell guy - oh I know! Eddie performed with him on Cheers, no wait. We have to go back....

Because somewhere along the way delightful writer dude (we'll call him) somehow mentions that the gentleman who was until just a few minutes ago sitting next to him, is the guy who wrote The Deer Hunter.

Yes, The Deer Hunter! That is some iconic shit y'all!

So that's impressive of course but then it had also surfaced that Eddie worked with Robert Redford on the film Sneakers. Eddie played a bad guy but in turn said that Redford was just a lovely, approachable guy. Ok, I know I overuse lovely - so you know - I'm aware. Perhaps we were having the 'which celebs are lovely and approachable' conversation?

Which is what got us to Ted Danson but then, THEN! Deer Hunter dude walks back in and is just so hilarious and charming and I don't know, old hollywood in that 'What picture did we work on together?'  way. (Back then it wasn't a movie, it was a picture). As we were all being introduced to him there was some music playing and it somehow made sense that he would grab the nearest woman to spin her around and they do a little dance and at the time I think he knows her, but no, actually -not so much. Honestly that bit doesn't go so well, her purse sorta whacked him in the chest but huge kudos for effort, right?

By then the whole room of this little cafe is engaged in this sparkly and fun conversation and you couldn't spot on unsmiling face for miles. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that somewhere along this timeline Morgan Fairchild walks in and DWD (delightful writer dude) says hello to her and she says hello back and holy kee-rap does she look good and I'm going whoa dude, this is fun stuff.

So THEN! As we're leaving with our little blond shortie who is of course receiving his own celebrity treatment for being so round-eyed and quiet and a great eater of hummus, and Deer Hunter dude and his posse of Old Hollywood are all outside and all say goodbye with winks and sparkling blue eyes and 'Hello my name is Howard'. At that point I'm restraining myself from saying Howard Who? Dish it! I've got to IMDB you on my iphone on the way home.

But I wasn't going home, I was going to my friends studio where he performed some visual effects magic to fix a little shadow situation in our movie. Which is why it's 12:15 am and due to this crazy lil day, I'm still buzzing. That and the iced tea.

Your starry eyed friend,


PS - Below is a couple of pictures of Eddie on our set. Just a lovely, delightful man. (kinda went for it with my favorite overused words)

Eddie Jones, over Scott Subiono's shoulder

Eddie Jones and Jennifer Nicole Lynn

Toy Story 3

Oh Pixar, why are you so great?

I've loved you since the beginning Pixar, long before you got so cool with your little lamp hopping in 3-d. I got how brilliant and talented and amazing you were long before you did this on again off again romance with Disney. I mean, I get it - that mouse is cute in those red pants and who doesn't love a castle? But if you wanted to be with someone really devoted, you'd be with me.

JESUSAGECHRIST this is an awesome movie! Anyone else see it? Since my mom has left town movies out are no longer really part of the plan, unless one of us sneaks off while the other one hangs at home. As it was tonight. We've had a wicked rough couple of days that involve, uh, well - that involve stuff that can't be discussed on the internet much - let's just say it's a combo platter of wrenching anxiety mixed with crushing disappointment and some betrayal thrown in the mix. Delightful.

So I took myself out tonight. Dammit, that's what I did.

First stop - sushi dinner. Perfect alone meal, me and the sushi chefs laughing and relating while I throw back some Sake and beer and delicious fish. Or it might have looked a little more like me relating with my iPhone, some perrier with lemon and a very annoyed sushi chef enduring my 'handroll no rice' order.

Sushi chef:  Everything okay?
Me: Yea, sure. Thanks!
Sushi chef: Yea but everything okay?
Me: (confused)
Random person next to me:  He wants to know if you don't want rice on everything.
Me: Yes please. No rice.
Sushi chef: No rice on everything.
Me: Please. No rice. Thank you so much.

Me: looking like asshole because I didn't understand him.
Him: Annoyed.

How did I get okay from no rice? Jeasus.

Next stop, therapy~! Hooray! I do enjoy beating the crap out of the couch and screaming my head off. It's seriously good times.

Last and final - Toy Story 3 for some laughing and crying (not kidding) and delicious popcorn at the Arclight where they use real butter don't you know. Those people at the Pixar really know how to tell a story and they have the technoweenie wizardry to back them up. Luckily there were some good laughers there in the late night showing, so I didn't feel alone in my belly laughing or the sniffling.

That is - my friends - one of the best g'damn movies I've seen in a long time. Screw the animation category, they should win it all next year at the Oscars.

Here are some pictures that have absolutely nothing to do with this post. It's an argument for taking the kid out to dinner though, he was a blast this day at a Thai restaurant where he pounded vegetable curry and cucumber salad. He's a fantastic eater and I'm gloating while I can. I know, karma works fast.

Your friend in the appreciation business,


PS - Thanks for your comments about my lil' green facelift - appreciate it! I'm probably going to be fancing this place up somemore soon, stay tuned.

Midnight Cowboy

Ugh.

I so relate to this blogger who recently pulled her blog down (I panicked because I love her blog) and then put it back up and just had herself a little existential crisis about it. I truly get that.

Recently I've had so much crushing uncertainty and strangeness mixed with the euphoria of possibilities back to plummeting panic (all with regards to the move) that I think..."Who wants to read about that? Who really cares?"  Plus what can I ACTUALLY talk about without either getting into trouble with someone or over-sharing or just hovering in this in-between space that is clearly boring because without detail, what the hell can you read about?

Nada.

So you've noticed.

We might not move. At least right now. It's still unclear and we're supposed to leave in a month. This has been the weirdest chunk of a life I tell you, it's crazy, wacky, nutty times. Long story short - some of the facts shifted, an opportunity opened here - a job went away there - and while that seems like enough information to make it obvious what we should do, it just isn't.

I repeat, ugh.

So let's talk about the short film, shall we?

It's almost done!

Our editor is here right now at 12:30 am and he's finishing the cut before he leaves the country for three weeks. He's been such a ridiculous gift of a person...Cheerful. Kind. Talented. He comes to us and works out of our home so we can be productive and be parents. How lucky, right?
Through a friend we found an amazing motion graphics person who just kicked ass and made us an amazing opening title sequence.
Our composer also killed it.

Three talented guys! Rushing alongside us and our ridiculously cute one year old toward the goal of completion!

So inside of these three (ok six) months of Are we moving? Are we staying? What can be done? What should be done? Should we do the financial program of that Christian dude who's got those nice white people going 'I'm debt free'? Should we go back to relying on the Secret? Why is the weather so great here?


This film has been a beacon of sweet and sanity and good. And it's almost done. And hopefully along with it's completion will also come a new place of knowingness and clarity for our little family. We can only hope.

Producers as Performers, Director - your bloggess, Writer as Cow

Yours in sweet confusion that only 70 degree weather can make ok,

Kickass

So if you're like me, you occasionally need a break from your existence. And if you're like me, you don't drink. (not likely...but quick shout out to my girls in the hot chics who drink perrier club!) So if you're anything like me, you'd think sneaking off to go see a movie with friends on a Wednesday night would be just the thing.

But here's where the trouble starts.

beloved friend: we're going to see Kickass at the 3 dollar theatre.
me: Oh that looks good. But. I just read on flixter that it's pretty gratuitous in the violence department.
beloved friend: oh I haven't heard that.
my inner voice: don't do it, not worth it.
me: Cool - sure, sounds good.
inner voice: go see How to Train Your Dragon! Hubs would never watch it with you. You love animation. You can't WAIT to see Toystory 3. Why risk it?
me: what time does it play?

I hate violent movies. I violently hate violent movies. I can't watch the murderous mayhem, it churns my guts and makes me just shake. So thanks to my unfortunate ignoring of the very articulate and clear inner voice, tonight I landed myself at an incredibly violent movie.

And I'm still shaking.

There was a ton of redeeming stuff about it, in terms of production value, ideas, acting even. The parts I watched anyway, most was watched from behind my hands or with averted eyes. Perhaps it was a very good movie, but I  hated it with every cell in my overly sensitive body. Afterwards I went into the badly lit pink bathroom of the 2nd run theatre and had a good cry.

I cannot reconcile this experience sometimes, I don't know how to do this. How do you raise a kid in a world where we think it's funny or charming or fun to watch an 10 year old girl kickass with every weapon known to human kind? And I"m a fan of dark comedy, I get that, but I'm still just blown away (bazooka to the chest) that our society thinks it's neat to make a super action killer character out of a little girl. It's disgusting. And, y'all know me, I'm not one of those Mom's who wants to censor the world or what not - but SERIOUSLY - how is this okay?

One of the scenes played just like a video game, I lost track of the body count. To which I say, video games harumph. I don't play them. I don't want the boy to play them. Ever. Certainly not the gun-ee or goreee ones. How can I protect him from that? It's so ubiquitous. I'm so screwed here people. In fact today there was a war of sorts just beyond the sweetness of our font porch. Seven kids ranging in age from 4-9 were battling it out with orange and green machine guns. Foam pellets flying. The sweet 8 year old girl who comes by to walk brown dog was at the forefront with her big, creepy, cute colored gun. And what's even more upsetting? She looks like she knows how to carry the damn thing. As if I know what that looks like.

As we drove home I thought about his sweet blonde head asleep in the crib. The sound of the ocean plays in his room and tiny little butt is pushed up in the air under a crocheted blanket his grandmother made for him. In the morning we will pick him up and he will smile his blindingly sweet smile at us. His white soft arms will wrap around us, he may touch my cheek with an open palm as he's done lately. We'll read him books about a little red barn with all of the animals, nothing about the genetically modified crops in the fields or the terrible slaughtering practices in the other barn. Or the killing going on in theatre's nationwide. I don't know how to reconcile the worlds.

But on the porch I saw the battle going by while the little one joyfully yelped and barked the sounds of learning a language. At least I could just inhale his sweet baby skin and dream of the billions I could make if there was some way to bottle his smell.

(what I see when I am lying on the padded porch with the BHB - this is sorta cliche California, right?)

sweet faced dude 

Here are some sun-soaked porch pictures. Today was the first day I saw him successfully stack the legos himself. Clearly the kid is a genius.

And I prayed he didn't notice the guns, no doubt he'll ask me for one soon.

Yours in-between worlds,

Do The Right Thing

Everytime I think - 'Ok, it's time. It's time to let go of the naming the posts after movies thing' a BRILLIANT title of a post appears in my mind that happens to be the name of a movie. And in this case a great movie. Boy there are too things at work there. Humility and a dastardly misspelling. Of course I meant two, not too. Jesus!

OK!

I'm in a 'do the right thing' kinda moment. And I'm going to be honest, I'm not really having fun.

Today I was changing BHB on the changing table - which is hard to do because he likes to squirm and crawl away making it completely precarious and frightening due to the 3 feet above the ground thing. And annoying! Especially where there is poo involved. So we've tried several solutions including moving the whole operation to a safe distance from the floor - ie; the floor. Or reasoning with him. (which is going great, thanks!) Or just telling him 'tough kid, lay still' - which usually makes him do the terrorist scream. You know the one? It's the 'someone is trying to kill me' scream that we often hear around PJ time. I expect child services to show up at our door any day, I'm sure our neighbors have the number on speed dial.

So I've taken a new tack. I tell him firmly and with a smile that he has to lay still for this part (the diaper part) but then I am more game for him moving around for the clothing part. That way the poo situation is mildly under control and he can 'help' me put his clothes on. I'm not saying this is completely successful yet, far from it. It's just the plan. (go ahead - laugh). But it's worked like twice and so I'm a believer. Especially if I can have any sense of humor at all about it, he is much more amenable to it.

Wait! I'm getting to my point. Here it comes.

So I was trying this new system and saying something to him along the lines of....

"Sometimes things in life aren't fun but its non-negotiable. This is one of those things. Like Mommy has to clean the bathroom. She doesn't want to, but she does it. And so you will lie still during diaper time little dude, and I hear that you are frustrated. I HEAR THAT YOU ARE FRUSTRATED! I"M SORRY YOU ARE FRUSTRATED BUT SOME THINGS ARE NON-NEGOTIABLE..."
(obviously he is screaming so I have to bring up my empathy to a higher volume)

And I thought, oh crap. Now I have to clean the bathroom.
But then I did it. And I felt better!

But to that end it's time to start packing without doing the wah-wah poor me terrorist scream. This move is 'the right thing' for so many reasons. We need to be near family. We need to lower our costs. The boy needs to know his grandmother (cute hubs mom), and she needs to know him. It's the right thing! And no I'm not comparing moving out of LA to cleaning to the bathroom, but I'm guessing I will feel better when it's done.

Moving date: August 1. Now all I need is some good 'moving' themed movie titles for future blog posts. Oh and any advice on the whole diaper-scream-change time would be awesome too.

Yours in 'the A word' (acceptance),



PS - In case you are wondering, I am reading all kinds of inspirational and uplifting 'change is good, accept all to be free, what you resist, persists' kind of . It still doesn't change that I LOVE the house we are living in and I love this damn town. I'm just sayin'.

PPS - Sorry for the re-run from FB but omg I love this misty morning photo. It's total crap quality from my iPhone and likely the tiny grubby fingers pushing the lens is what created this effect but, yea. It really makes me happy...

Bewitched

So.

Today I went to a super bitchin' coffee shop here in the LA area called Swork. There is an umlaut. I do not know how to create an umlaut. If you're curious, I linked you up, follow at will. If you didn't, just imagine the two dots adorning the w. Which is weird, right? Don't umlaut's usually live on vowel's? The exciting part about Swork is not it's odd lil' name, it's that it features a sweet little play area for shorties. Complete with endless blocks and other goodies, it's pure awesome I tell you. But I digress, as I often do.

So I'm walking into this place to meet a dear, dear friend and her almost 3 year old dude and I'm doing the purse/diaper bag/22 pound baby juggle so I'm a little out of breath and off kilter. Not that it's a good excuse, but there it is.

I see this dude on a go-cart scooting up the sidewalk. He's on a go-cart! Going 20! On the sidewalk! But what's more interesting is that the dude is like 45. But not an interesting 45, more like a frat boy all growed up 45. So I'm thinking something like this....

"OK dude, you are WAAAAYYY too old to be driving a go-cart".

I mean, wouldn't you?

But that's the problem. It was kind of a mean spirited (ok quite) thought and I'm not usually such a person as this. But there I was all juggley and judgey and I swear to you the following happened. As I walked by the guy said to me:

"I know, I'm too old".

Drat!
So busted!

So I sorta laugh and turn toward him and I'm about to apologize for what I said except that I quickly realize that I didn't actually say anything so instead I offer a halfhearted apology in the form of a laugh-turn-and-acknowledge as I stumble by with the unreasonable load of crap and cute hanging off my shoulders and arms.

I ask you - is nothing sacred? Is my bad mood private thinking no longer an option? If every thought I think is out for public consumption (um hello, the fact that I'm putting this on a blog is not lost on me, I know I'm ridiculous) I'm seriously in trouble.

I'm going to try to live tomorrow as a transparent mind. It will be a delightful experiment and I will share the results. But here is a little sampling from today:

• "This June gloom matches my mood beautifully. Sure I hate everyone and everything but at least this diffused lighting is flattering on all of us."
• "I love my friends, they are ridiculously great. I'm annoyed at their greatness. Will I ever find new friends this great?"
• "Good grief this is a cute kid. I love his soft white limbs, they are like white bread. Umm, white bread."

and other hits.

And finally, I'll leave you with the reason I love facebook. Today I posted this quote from The Prophet by Kahil Gilbran.


“Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. And could you keep in your heart the miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy. And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief."

and got this response.

To proceed very far through the desert, you must be willing to meet existential suffering and work it through. In order to do this, the attitude toward pain has to change. This happens when we accept the fact that everything that happens to us has been designed for our spiritual growth.— M. Scott Peck

And two things happened. I thought, how weird! I'm moving to the desert. And then I thought. And there must be a higher reason. But you probably knew that's what I was thinking.

Cloak and Derwood,

PS - Here is a little spot of joy from my afternoon yesterday.