Oh my goodness, today was so good. Jase and I had so much fun going to the Santa Monica Creek state park. It’s the kind of place where you can look and look and still not see enough. And if the mountains, endless blue expanse of sky, rock formations that dwarf even the tallest among us (and jase and I were both there–so yeah, even we were dwarfed), and lakes were not enough, there was even the ruins of an old adobe to explore. Today was another hot one, and so when we stumbled upon Rock Lake, we just had to go in–clothes and all. We did take our shoes off, though. Oh, and guess who else had to go in? Just about the cutest puppies you could find–a little golden retriever who was fluffy with fur and had a chubby little snout, and also a tiny little black chihuahua and something (jase and I guessed rabbit…?) mix. Their names were Bambi and Baby, respectively. Their owners dipped them into the water, and then just left them to roam freely. They curled up and slept on a rock, warmed by the sun and completely oblivious to just how achingly cute they were. I went up to them and started petting them, and yes, pretending they were mine. A little boy walked up at that moment, and I moved over in deference to him (and because I wasn’t sure he wasn’t one of their owners). So I asked him, Are these little puppies yours? He quickly shook his head no, so I followed up with another question, Do you kinda wish they were? Then he smiled real big as he nodded his assent and I let him know I felt the exact same way about the situation. Even Jason, who is not an animal owner, or as he says, enslaver, admitted that they were adorable. I told him to get one, but he said that small dogs have weak hearts and aren’t up to traveling as much as he and his family do. Well, that is very practical and very smart and very mature and blah blah blah, but those puppies were so cute and weak heart or not, would make just about any situation better, I think.
At one point, we hiked by a rather frantic man who asked if either of us was a ranger. Well, he must have been desperate to imagine that either of us was a ranger (I mean, last I checked rangers still wear some sort of state-issued uniform, right? And I am pretty sure terry-cloth shorts, a black beater, and purple and grey nike high-tops is not it). When we said no, he asked if we had seen one nearby. Jase let him know that there was one–at the entrance of the park. 3 miles back. Far, far, away–even for a desperate man. We asked him if he needed help and he told us his friend was in trouble. Being nosy–and compassionate, but let’s face it, nosy too–I asked him what kind of trouble. He ignored my question (shoot. I really wanted to know), so Jase asked if he could make a phone call for him. The man said yes, but only after he had talked with a ranger. Uh, ok. Then the man started this pathetic little slow jog–presumably to get to that ranger that was somewhere on the other side of that jog–but not anywhere close and from the looks of his pace, not anytime soon. As we moved on, Jason and I kept our eyes peeled for somebody with a leg trapped by a boulder or bit by a rattle snake or even too dehydrated to move and was simply collapsed, but nothing. We couldn’t find one person in trouble. I still don’t understand why that man didn’t let Jason make a phone call for him. What kind of trouble could his friend be in that would warrant a slow, sweaty jog to a ranger, but not a phone call? Beats me.
Tonight, I also played another open-mic, this time at Cafe Muse on Santa Monica Blvd in Hollywood. It was a cute place–a lot of singer song-writers were there, some good, some needing work, some great. I played two songs, and really enjoyed playing. The only thing that was unfortunate was that I had my back to the crowd and was wearing jeans that really could have used a belt. Nothing too crucial was visible–maybe just underwear. Maybe. Gabby, my faithful companion at open-mics was with me, along with my other housemate, Wu. After I played, a very nice person came up to me and asked me to play at a house show she was gonna have. I explained that it would have to be in the next two weeks, because after that I would be in San Fran. But then, the owner of the place came up and asked if the two of us would like to play a show together there–on July 3rd. I explained that I wouldn’t be able to to get there until 10:30, maybe a little earlier if I literally flew out of the Ahmanson theatre. Well, she was fine with that–the other girl will take the first part, and I will take the 2nd. So, I booked my first gig here in L.A. I get to play more than two songs, and don’t need to share the night with people who might try very hard but was not given a great ability to sing or play an instrument, per se, bless their hearts. It is small, not a huge deal, but I am psyched. You gotta start somewhere, right?
One more thing–Jase and I stopped in at a pet store and I fell a little in love with a Bengal kitten. I held him for a long time; he was all silvery stripes and big green eyes and soft, soft fur. He looked wild and beautiful and my kitties at home, that my friend Michele is so kind to watch for the summer, almost got a new baby brother. Almost…When I told Drew about this little buddy, he was like, You held a Bengal tiger? And you want it?! Well, no. And yes, actually. No, it wasn’t a tiger–it was a domesticated bengal–the size of a house cat, but a descendant of an Asian Jungle Cat (amazing, I know). And yes, I do want it.
Ok, that’s all for now. Back to work tomorrow. And for now, Drew and decided to hold off on the Bengal kitten…but maybe not forever, right Drew? Right?
Posted by jessica on Jun 24, 2008 |
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