Maya in Wonderland

I took my french final - that was a crazy fast twelve weeks and lots of fun. There’s a core group that have said that they’re going to sign up for the next class in the fall (well, fall-ish - it starts on the 21st). I think that I’ll sign up too. I’m deeply intimidated by the thought of a 16 week committment, but I can use the same book and now that I’ve got some momentum going, it would be a shame to drop it.

So I’m really not a fan of the onion. I don’t mind if it’s used in cooking, but I’ll always pick them out before I eat the food. It’s a totally automatic reaction. If the onion is raw, forget it. I stopped buying toasted egg bagels at Noah’s because the employees would make sandwiches with onions in their rubber gloves and I could taste it on my bread. -shudders-

When I made the vegan loaf, however, I was all about Trying New Things and chopped up one of the dreaded things. It baked up tasty, but I really thought that I was going a little crazy because four days, two showers and countless hand-washings later, I would SWEAR that I could still smell onion on my hands.

Mom to the rescue. She says that I’m not crazy; I just need this magic stone thing that will remove odors completely and thoroughly. What a relief.

Dude, what if we took that stupid van of your dad’s and, like, totally covered it with the floor panels that we stole from that abandoned house that time and like did all sorts of patterns and shit and it would be like … so cool.

Some things, you just can’t make up.

I’ve spent many long nights and crazy days with these people.

It’s good to know that the magic is still there. Thanks all.

late on a Saturday night

Ben snapped this at random. Sid and I are not exaggerating the velocity of the turn.

That’s how it ought to be

Happy Birthday Dear Maya

Happy Birthday to me

The lovely MisAdventure is departing the beach house and heading inland. In a grand farewell, we spent the day eating Mexican food, drinking sangria and hanging with the gang. There was also an ice cream cake, wandering the beach, getting soaked by a rogue wave and … more wine. Good party. Great day.

Sunrises are best appreciated when I’m on my way to bed

A bunch of us came down to LA to adventure, oh, years ago. We rented a van and everyone picked one thing that they wanted to do and then everyone had to do it too. It was a great weekend, but my most vivid memory is hanging out in the park at the Tar Pits / LACMA and being in total awe of these Trees that Bloomed Purple Flowers instead of leaves.

Positively Wonderous. And now, wherever they bloom, I remember that trip and my friends.

tired, tired, tired. And it’s noon-past and there are Things to Do today, but I slept almost not at all on Thursday night in a rebellious reaction to not having to be at work by 8:30 on Friday (I arrived at 9:15).

Friday was tea all morning and coffee in the afternoon fog along the PCH, then up the 405 where I ate fabulous Chinese food at midnight. LAX by one to hang for an hour in a truly remarkable cultural soup with greetings and partings and other dramas that are far beyond what the average television studio can manage. Collected the Traveller and home.

Made the return trip long before Sunday daybreak. LAX in the wee hours is relatively sane and easily navigated and the freeways make you think that commuting could be an option. Sunrises are best appreciated when I’m on my way to bed.