Monthly Archives: February 2005

I have manic-depression.

(left open because hey, it’s the Web, and there’s others out there with this problem)

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Maybe the best form of meditation is just to go shake one’s ass on a packed dancefloor. I found my moment of Zen a couple hours ago, doing just that down at Bar Sinister. I was totally lost in the music – it was Nine Inch Nails’ Closer – and forgot everything around me, from my slightly sore feet (I’m wearing heeled boots) to some work related stress to having fallen off my diet wagon this weekend. I just danced, eyes half closed, sensing more than really controlling my arms and legs, hips and abdomen, into the beat. There are few small things I enjoy more than losing myself dancing to a song I really love.

Actually, I just really love to dance. I’ve had fun dancing at ultra-trendy Hollywood clubs to Justin Timberlake remixes. Two weekends ago, I danced for hours at Traffic, to DJs spinning random electro-breaks. If there is a dancefloor, I will hit it. Especially at someplace where everyone is just totally into the music, where people are there to be into it, to dance and lose themselves and not try to look cool doing it, where the same energy is flowing across the floor.

The friends who went with me – K and Z – also had a great time. They hadn’t been to Bar Sinister before. In fact, they hadn’t really been goth clubbing all that much. They still came up with fabulous outfits and makeup. And they were still delighted to throw themselves into dancing, rave-style, on the floor. They might not know all the words to the Assemblage 23 songs that were being spun, but they still had a great time dancing to them. They were SO MUCH FUN to go with, and it was so great to have friends that could get that quickly into a scene that was something I was more used to than they were.

I’d picked this weekend because Solarcade were playing. I should add, Solarcade are actually REALLY good. They have catchy, danceable songs that are sort of darker rock, somewhere between Duran Duran and Econoline Crush. I know who they are because their lead singer hit on me one night at Miss Kitty’s, and told me to e-mail him through the website. I wasn’t that interested in the guy, but I checked out the band, instantly discovered I liked them, and was delighted to get a chance to see them live.

So that was it – my moment of peace for the day, as I gyrated at the edge of a dance floor, in a too-short skirt, fishnets, and zippered shirt. That, and this morning’s spinning class, when I felt my legs take off in time to a Tiesto track. But mostly the dancing. Now, it’s time to untangle myself from this outfit and get some sleep.

Just ’cause a cat has kits in an oven, DOESN’T MAKE ‘EM BISKITS!”

Let me just say, we’re seeing Weather-with-a-capital-W.

My dad called yesterday. “How’s the weather down there, kid?” I could almost see him rubbing his hands together in glee. Dad hates L.A. and wants me to come home so it can fall into the ocean.

“Dad, are you watching CNN?”

He chuckled. “Heh heh heh. It’s nice and sunny here!”

“Yeah, well, it won’t be for long. I’m still not coming home until after the rainy season.”

Thunder just shook the building I work in, out in Venice. This is getting a bit surreal.

we don’t have weather in los angeles :: the official warning du jour

There’s thunderstorms and mudslides and all sorts of stuff going on today that makes for exciting daytime news updates on CNN. Fortunately, I don’t live in a neighborhood that’s in danger of sliding away or having things slide into it. And I’m home from work, thanks to Presidents’ Day, to watch the news.

I’m in the middle of a manic phase right now. It’s awesome. I’m getting things accomplished now, like redoing & cleaning my room, reestablishing my gym & workout habits, cleaning house. Unfortunately, this is sort of detracting from my ability to write long entries. Like, I’ve spent at least three hours on housework in the last couple days. Probably more. But I haven’t gotten around to writing up Jillian’s Adventures in Church from Saturday (followed by Adventures at Jones in WeHo).

I will stop moving for long enough to write up yesterday’s trip to the Getty. I discovered the new GettyGuides immediately. These are guides to the museum that are the size/shape of a GameBoy from 1990, with color screens to show the art. It automatically detects which gallery you’re in and auto-loads the narratives and details for that room. It has audio commentary from Getty staff experts, as well as from preeminent L.A. painters. It merges my love of all toys geeky with my love of history, because it allows me to get a better sense of the contexts beyond the paintings through the narratives.

Other than that though, it was the Getty, and it wasn’t a special event. They have expanded the collections quite a bit though, and the current exhibits on display were wonderfully put together and fascinating in their content. I love the Center, the gardens, the buildings, the fact that it’s there – and yesterday, we REALLY loved the umbrellas that they had availiable at each entrance/exit.

The jentwo reflected that she would need a day for the art alone, and another day for the buildings and landscape, and she’s right. I keep meaning to round up a crew for a picnic lunch in the gardens, a whole day to explore the Center. Trying to fit everything in gives one Steindahl’s syndrome (too much art at once).

The rain has let up for a few minutes, which I plan to take advantage of to go to Costco with my roomate and exchange our leaky coffee machine. Shockingly enough, I’m on schedule for the day, well into my task list, and might actually have a clean room and house (which is rare) by the end of the day after all. Long weekends rock.

I got shoved into a table tonight when a bar fight broke out.

You’d think that at a bar legally within the Beverly Hills city limits, such things would not happen. But no, this was a fight with so many guys in it, it looked like a rugby scrum.

Prior to that, I’d been demonstrating that I can still act like an idiot when stone cold sober by bouncing around dancing. I was bouncing so much that a guy came up to me, and asked what I was drinking.

“Club soda!” I chirped. “I’m sober!”

I don’t think he believed me, but he came back from the bar five minutes later with a club soda and lime for me regardless.

Twenty minutes later, the party ended when the lights came on after the fight, as the five of us (well, three of us who were sober) searched for the battery to my Blackberry. It had been knocked out of its holster when I was shoved into the table, and had broken into chunks upon hitting the floor. D found the last piece, after ten minutes of searching, just as I was about to cry.

Forty-five minutes after that, we were home, out of the rain. I’m happy to be back in my nice, space-heatered room in West Los Angeles. I had a lot of adventures today that will have to be written up tomorrow.