Cut!

And that's a wrap.

Tia and Marco, coming soon to the web near you (and then on PBS). Final day of shooting in Cave Creek - 7:30pm to ? (I made it 'til 11:30 - and they applauded when I left, how cool is that?) Lots of close-ups and "cut-ins" shot tonight. During downtime in the finally cool, sweater weather on the patio in the desert, we all contemplated the worthiness of the new Jose Cuervo silver, the internationalness of Looseworld Productions - Cave Creek to LA could be international (depending on which way you go), how to fix my broken gaydar (Home Depot?), getting hair and mini make-overs, the hazards of having a TV in the bedroom, figuring out how much stuff to take out of a fake baby bump to go from six months pregnant to five months (large softball amount) and how sleep deprivation leads to pithiness.

It was fun to get out of my box and explore the fascinating, sexy world of film production. Annie is amazing and her crew somehow made what was going on inside her brain come to life. I can't wait to see the final product.

9/29/84

How many kisses are there in twenty five years. Dates? Houses? Vacations? Therapy sessions? Wedding rings?

September 29, 2009 is our 25th anniversary (I know, I know - what? were you like twelve when you got married?) Close - 18 (Shawn) and 19 (Lisa, the cougar). I wasn't even pregnant. It's hard to see where 25 years have gone. I can look at Shana and see 18 of them. I can look at all the crossed out addresses in my old address book, I can look at all the degrees hanging on the walls and remember those years, those states, those anniversaries. But it's hard to add them all up. I still see 16 year old Shawn when I look at him, racing down the road in his covered in surfboard bumper stickers car, "Africa" playing on the radio.

Take Four - Take your parents to work day

Day four of Tia and Marco. 7pm to 7am (I snuck out early again. Excuse: somebody needed to get to the office on Monday for payroll and end of the quarter issues and my days of pulling all nighters are long gone). Another inside shoot. Annie's parents came to watch for awhile (bringing along Mr. Howell's world famous homemade granola). They looked so proud, so amazed at the massive production and all of the people surrounding their Annie, focusing on her every word.

4pm to 4am...you've got to be kidding

Okay, here's the thing. When I helped on Annie's last film she did in Cave Creek, all I had to do was go to Costco a couple of times. That was that. Piece of cake. But nobody seemed to get the message this time that I'm just a volunteer, a local girl with a bit of extra time on her hands that doesn't mind helping out once in a while for a good cause, but, really, I do have a life. So when I kept getting the Call sheets emailed to me and the rumors of 12 hour days, I kept thinking, well, that's for the other people, not me. Right? Again, the message wasn't getting across. But last night the call time was 4pm, meaning check-out time was 4am. 4am is hard (and I should know since I got up around 4am the past two days in order to get to Carefree by 5:45 for pick-ups. But last night the place was doing okay with out me, lots of people around to help so I snuck out after only a short 6 hour shift. But still, what a night. Shot everything indoors. Raced with the sun to catch some good scenes in the kitchen. The guys lit up the place with all their reflectors and massive cameras and sliding platforms and different colored filters. Very cool. Charles kept running outside to check on his sun, making sure it didn't drop out of sight before he was done with it. Annie, what an amazing perfectionist. She spotted the brand new cheap plastic plates from Target for the kitchen props and had the art department sand them down, make them look used. It was incredible to watch the scenes come together through her eyes. The house had been transformed from model home to government foreclosure in two hours and the crew hauled in all their equipment building it up and taking it down over and over again to get the perfect view. We had some free time and covered everything from immigration to the crazy, dangerous world of Cave Creek Arizona. My heart was racing by the time I made it to my car in the pitch black desert night after the stories of torture and murder and drugs, but mostly worried about the coyotes that we heard the night before, eating up something out there in the desert. I rolled south down the hill back to Scottsdale as the rest of the gang got ready for round two.

The Big Apple

I have never actually bought anything at the Apple Store. That's Shawn's department. I just get to yell when my computer freezes up or loses something and Shawn the IT guy fixes it. If I ever found myself wandering around in the hip, colorful store, money was never exchanged. Until today. Shawn left his wallet in the car (so Kramer-y), handed his purchase to some random Mac guy walking around in the middle of the store (wearing an "I can talk about this stuff for hours" t-shirt) gave him the "talk to her" look and nodded in my direction. Apple guy whipped out a hand-held thingy and before too much time passed and I risked looking like an idiot, I realized that there weren't any cash registers anywhere in sight. So I pulled out some plastic. He swiped my card and asked me if I wanted him to email me my receipt. I said yes and that was that. Done. Cool.

Action!

And we're rolling...

Lisa Sullivan, Production Assistant.

My sister's friend, Annie, is a Director.

She's a local girl from Cave Creek, but left for film school way back when. She recently won a film competition sponsored by PBS (they are going to start showing short fiction films) and returned home to Cave Creek to direct her piece. I signed up to help.

These people are maniacs. They get up before the crack of dawn and work twelve hours straight. Annie says now that she's older with two kids (she just had her second baby) she can only do twelve hour shifts, but that the industry usually goes much longer. Well, my first assignment was to pick up the star, Susan,

(she's been on Law and Order and CSI and a bunch of other stuff) and the Assistant Director, Sam, who are staying at an incredible modern home in Carefree. Call time (cool film people lingo for what time your day starts) for the first two days was 6am, meaning that I had to get myself and my car from Scottsdale to Carefree by 5:40. That's before the sun comes up, people. But standing in the desert watching the sunrise made it all worth it. We then headed to Annie's parents house to fetch the Queen Bee herself and Charles, the Director of Photography before heading to the production site, just one more gorgeous, right out of Architectural Digest Magazine, house overlooking the beautiful Arizona desert. Twelve hours later I was done - hot, dirty, sunburned and so incredibly amazed at how much goes on behind the scenes, how much work is involved, how much time it takes, how much it costs and how many people are involved in the making of a fifteen minute film.

The most awe-inspiring part of my first day as a Production Assistant (I got a slash - / - Driver title added later in the day. I asked if it was a promotion, but Brian, the Line Producer, said, No, just lateral. Oh well.) was just how well, practically seamlessly, so many different people melded together. People that didn't know each other ten minutes ago. Everybody became fast friends, learned each other's names and what their responsibililtes are very quickly. I wanted to fit in, look cool, you know, next to all of these guys from New York and LA (and some locals, too) so I wore my hippest outfit. It worked and I fooled at least one person, the hair and make-up girl. She thought that I was with the wardrobe department (and she usually only works on porn movies, so her bar for coolness may be higher that most, I figure. Well, maybe lower. Anyway, she says there's a huge porn industry in Phoenix - who knew?)

We spent most of the day outside by the side of a dirt road in Cave Creek, heading up a mountain. I relayed messages, got water, directed traffic (telling oncoming traffic - well, never very heavy in Cave Creek), that we are shooting a movie up the road, would you mind waiting a couple of minutes so we can finish this scene? - so, again, cool Lisa, in the know and everybody asks, oohhh...who's in it? anybody I know? Brad Pitt? Well, no, but thanks so much for waiting) until I hear the crackle crackle on the walkie talkie "Cut!" (did I mention on my second day I got a walkie talkie - definitely a promotion!) and I send the cars up the hill. One more task for a Production Assistant was to procure a restroom facility. Brian had scoped out a horse ranch down the road and put me in charge of sweetly asking if, every once in a while for two days, some people could use the bathroom. I told Brian, "I can do sweet." I drove down the hill and pulled in to find a tall blonde cowgirl coming out of the stable. She said, "You look like an information seeker" (what? wasn't it obvious I was from the wardrobe department?) I said, "No, just a favor asker," and went on to do my sweet thing. She really didn't have a restroom, more like an outhouse. But when you're standing in the desert and it's 100 degrees, you don't really need to go to the bathroom, no matter how much water you drink. Funny thing about the desert.

So scene after scene was shot. Border patrol agent yelling at pregnant lady. Young boy handcuffed and bleeding (make-up) in back of truck. Pregnant lady and boy in car. Over and over again. The complexity of each take, the patience, the perfectionism was eye-opening. And nobody was bitching. It was hot. It was dusty. It was a long day. And nobody was bitching.


It's been fascinating to watch the crew - the sound people, the camera people and all of their equipment - so massive, yet intricate - which camera to use? can you get that shot? how long to set up? By the end of the second day, they were attaching a "hostess stand" to the outside of a Prius so they could drive and film the actors inside the car at the same time. I never knew so many people could fit inside a Prius, plus a probably 100 pound camera sticking four feet off the car. I watched as they drove off, standing next to Sam (he was a little shaky as the car full of people and equipment drove off into the desert - we got a walkie talkie call from Charles saying they got two takes and were going to do one more, followed by a May Day May Day call from somebody else on the frequency...then the non-walkie talkie sound of a pack of coyotes howling and howling - hoping that nobody was getting ripped to shreds) The car made it back safely, getting the last shot of the day before the sun started to head down.


Day three, Saturday, call time: 4:00pm (3:45 - Lisa to pick up Susan)

Guess what time we get to go home???

Ku De Ta

http://www.kudeta.net/

I walked in to a restaraunt in Bali several years ago and fell in love. With the floor. I decided to go home after some great beach time with Amy and Shana and turn my house into Ku De Ta. Black slate all over, lots of red and grey. That was about seven years ago and now, officially, I have black slate all over, no more carpet anywhere in the house. We started with the family room pretty soon after my excursion to Indonesia. A couple of years later it was the kitchen redo and some more white tile came out. Then it was room by room as I got sick of the carpet. Or the dog peed somewhere. Or Shana spilled hot purple candle wax in her room. Or we got a new office desk and black slate was so much better than white carpet. Now our extra room in the back is done. It's empty. My own little coup de tat - I've taken over. It's all mine. But what should I do with it? Wrapping paper room? Sewing room? Ha Ha. Maybe yoga retreat? Red mat?  Beach mural on the wall? Seabreeze scented candle?

Maybe I should go back for a little more inspiration.

Woo Woo

I hate to get all woo woo on you here, but just try this:

Close your eyes, breathe deep - in and out (s l o w l y) - and say these words to yourself...

Everything I have is enough

Everything I am is enough

Then think about the following later today (when you're about to open your mouth and blab to somebody else)

The four truths

Is what I'm about to say kind?

Is what I'm about to say true?

Is what I'm about to say necessary?

Is this the right time to say what I'm about to say?

Meditation is when all of your  senses are turned in (yeah, four classes and now I'm an expert). We spend all of our days watching and listening and smelling and touching and tasting and processing so many external stimuli that meditation is when, for maybe five minutes a day you can just sit and breathe, let all the thoughts just flow by.

I know, sorry, but I warned you - woo woo

Balance

Today's the day. Perfect balance. It's one of two days of the year when day time and night time are exactly the same amount of minutes all over the earth. Autumnal equinox if you want to get specific.

So in yoga tonight, Mary tried to balance the rest of us out. She told us that the more significant relaxation happens when you are inhaling and exhaling at the same rate. So we did that. Then we stretched and adjusted and moved around until right and left, front and back, top and bottom were close to equal. Then it got dark.  Cool.

The Bike Path Part III

Can the girl be taught?

Shana came home for the weekend and decided that she wanted to take her bike back to school with her. The bike that I spent all summer asking her about. Hey, Shana, do you want to take your bike to school with you? Huh? It would be so much easier to ride to class than to drive, really, parking's such a mess. You know, it's a great bike. Are you sure? Are you sure? Mom, I'm sure. I don't need a bike. Okay, so let's review. The kid gets to Tucson and suddenly needs a bike. Four roommates, one boyfriend, the Cat Tran, the Sun Tran, her two feet and still, suddenly, immediately, she needs a bike. So I find one on Craigslist (where there are at least two postings for stolen bikes for every one for sale). Be careful, Shana. Lock it up. Always lock it up. Yeah, yeah, right, Mom (I can hear her rolling her eyes). So, two days later, guess what? Stolen. Shawn brushed off the dusty bike in the garage. He showed Shana how to remove the front wheel so she can lock it up with the back half of the bike. She bought a lock. She loaded the thing up in her trunk and did the Thelma and Louise with Cali down the I-10. She rode it to school today. Eight minutes flat. Happily called to tell me.

I just rolled my eyes (but I bet she couldn't hear me).

Pink

I've always had a little crush on Pink. Am I allowed to say that? It's just something about her rough 'n tumble, down 'n dirty, I know I need to go to anger management classes, but I don't care, straight-from-the-heart, raspy, scrappy ways that I can't get enough of. Oh, and her songs, too. She just tells it like it is, going from painful memories in Family Portrait to Let's Get This Party Started and so much in between. Oh, yeah, and then there's her abs, too. My God - how does she look like that? So I told Shana I wanted to go and the next thing I knew, we were tagging along with her friend, Cali, and her dad, Neal, ('Lil Baby Roc and Doc Roc www.rockowitzortho.com) to their sweet suite seats right by the stage. Neal knows the arena like the back of his hand (even has his name on the wall), plus the secret fastest way ever to fly across town (and I'm not tellin'). The Fun House tour started off with Pink popping out of the floor, Jack-in-the-Box style. The stage was complete with wavy fun house mirrors, a flying trapeze, slides, acrobats, jokers, two-story blow-up clowns, lots of singers and dancers, and feathers, feathers, feathers. She did all of her hits with her cheeky, full of mojo attitude and covered some Divinyls, Queen, Led Zeppelin and more in an over two-hour carnival-like production.

While going to a concert with your parents is never ideal, Cali and Shana have had a lot of practice over the years and have learned to hang out with their oh-so-hip moms and dads without even one little whine. We all never stopped talking and even got to go back to the good old days when the dreams coming out of the back seat, like the makes-perfect-sense-to-me "I want to own a Chocolate Factory when I grow up" made you smile.

Lunch Mom

Today I was the lunch mom. I still suffer from Empty Nest Syndrome (I know, whine, whine, whine) so when I heard that Shana was coming home to lead one of her Workshop programs, I immediately signed up to bring lunch. I love hanging out with these kids. They work so hard all year. Summers are intense, but things keep going all year long with the one day refresher programs - Back-to-School, Powerhouse for boys, Girlwise for girls, helping the teens make adjustments to some of the things they learned over the summer after facing some real world stressors during the new school year -  www.orho.org.

And as a non-profit with about a hundred 16 - 25 year old peer leaders, they always need food. Today the number was closer to 40, but I wanted to be prepared. I asked Shana to help me with the menu. She said "just no pizza or Paradise Cafe - that's all we eat all summer." We decided on a brunch menu for the 10:45 rush of kids - eggs, potatoes, bacon, sausage, yogurt, juice, apples, bagels, cream cheese, muffins. As I kept shopping over the past couple of days and filled up practically two refrigerators (after plugging in the very hot one in the garage just for the occasion), Shana kept saying that they could never eat all that food, that I was going overboard. But I didn't want to run out, didn't want anybody to go hungry. After all, how often to I get to do this anymore? I'm never in charge of snacks for the classroom anymore, no more cases of granola bars for the softball games, no more thirty cupcakes for the school birthday parties, no more science fair project groups showing up in my kitchen after school, starving.

So I actually bought juice boxes for the first time in years and smiled as these big kids stuck in the little straws and came back for more. Shawn toasted the bagels while Shana and our extra daughter, Maddie, supervised. I  just took it all in, eating up each and every "thank you, Mrs. Sullivan" until Shawn and I had to leave them to their preparations for the at least 60 kids who would show up later.

Shana was right, I did go too far. I've got a ton of leftovers. But at least the extra fridge is still plugged in. You never know when I'll be in the mood for a juice box.

Some Pig

An adorable three year old came into the office the other day. She was completely decked out - huge white sunglasses, green Crocs, denim skirt. After saying "Hello" to me, she turned to her mom, busy filling out forms and with a baby in her arms, and said "Mommy, can I go make friends with that man?" Both Mom and I looked at the only other person in the waiting room, a thirty-something reading a magazine, and Mom said, "Okay." Little girl walked up to him and said, "Hi, my name is Wilbur." Mom announced that she had been reading Charlotte's Web and we all smiled. Wilbur asked waiting room man, "So, what do you see in that painting over there?" If I looked hard enough at the abstract print on the wall, I probably could have found a word or two describing how amazing she was. But waiting room man described the colors and the shapes and the two had a lovely conversation until it was time for him to say good-bye.

Totally made my day.

Space 55

GREAT night out! Shana and I (okay, she was forced) went downtown to Space 55 to see 10, 10 minute plays, including one written by the AMAZING Kim Porter (I thought it was the best one, of course!)

It's playing for a couple more weeks - so don't miss it.

http://www.space55.org/

Open Up

And they're open! I'm not complaining, but this morning Shawn opened some windows. The cats are ecstatic, perched on the window sills listening to the birds and the cars and the people that they haven't heard for months. Seems like the end of the summer is in sight.

Happy New Year!

Celebrating the holiday - parents Friday, friends Saturday. Happy New Year!

The Old Gang (well, not so old)

It took me three days to get ready for my 20th high school reunion a few years ago, so when I got a last minute lunch invite on Facebook with no time to run home to spruce up, I didn't even have a chance to wonder "what should I wear?" But, what a lunch! Some of the old gang gathered at blast from the past Tee Pee in the old 'hood (I swear there was an original waitress there, too) for some drinks and some reminiscing. It was great to catch up and relive the crazy old middle school and high school days and also the past twenty-something years in between.  Thanks - John, Tod and Lisa - some things never change!

Mr. Coffee

You should have seen Shawn's face. It was like he couldn't breathe. The minute we walked in to the Cave Creek strip mall coffee machine repair shop, I knew we were in trouble. The place was like a Mr. Coffee morgue. Rows and rows of machines with yellow tags tied on to the plugs, just like on Law & Order, except these babies were high end, shiny beasts with clogged grinders, worn out o-rings, and tired frothers. I wasn't surprised when the guy said that it would be at least a week. It would probably take that long for him just to find it in his way too crowded, Rush Limbaugh-blaring, the only place in town that will touch these things shop. But poor Shawn. The guy's addicted. He spends every morning with her - at least fifteen minutes grinding, pouring, heating, frothing, spinning the four shot, caramel, milky looking latte in his over-sized mug. Nobody can even talk to him until he's had his way with her and the caffeine has kicked in. So, I guess it must have been heartbreaking for him to hear the totally improbable "about a week" line from Mr. Fix-it. But as we were leaving, I reminded him of the old machine he keeps at the office for emergency afternoon espressos. Maybe we could go get that? The guy looked at me like I'm a genius and finally took a big breath.

The World Traveler

Pic just makes me smile!
Sister, Amy, weeklong trip to London and Istanbul - a little wedding, a little traveling...

Upcoming Movie Madness - Cold Souls

Got a cold soul? Come sit in the dark with your movie madness pals to see Cold Souls starring favorite, Paul Giamatti. We'll keep your soul warm. 


Monday, September 21st at Camelview - 11:30

The Fab Five

And then there were five. The Fab Five.

Most of the gang dropped like flies as our September Book Club in the woods at Jill’s new place approached - too much to do, kids to watch and work to finish, but the rest of us, desperate to get away for a little girl time, tied up some of the loose ends and headed north. Getting there is always half the fun as this crowd somehow never takes too long to disintegrate into a Sex and The City episode, making the drive to Pinetop one hilarious, bawdy road trip. Armed with Starbucks caffeine and some new tunes, we made it all the way to Showlow before we had to pee, pulling over into the ever-so-convenient Branding Iron saloon. Empty bladders and a behind schedule but still way past noon time of day could only mean one thing – time for a beer with our new spiky grey haired, dangly bead earring-wearing, only missing one tooth BFF bartender. She poured some ale from her selection including local faves Moose Drool and Elk something or other as we relaxed into our upcoming Three Day Weekend, but also took some time to recognize the date, 9/11, and paid tribute to our country as we watched the silent TVs in the background showing images we will never forget.



Our hostess, Jilly B

We made our way up the road past the fire station and the Art Barn and the golf club to finally lay our eyes on the magnificent Jill and her new retreat in the woods. The place is amazing, complete with big comfy sofas in front of the fireplace, a way cool party loft upstairs, yeasty bread rising on the stove in the kitchen and the best part for some over-heated Phoenicians, an incredible front porch that we all sank into as we lounged with our drinks and munchies from the stocked fridge and sat there for hours yapping away, surrounded by hundreds of pine trees and aspen trees and birds and squirrels, as we felt the temp drop and the rest of the world float away.

I like Big Buns and I can not lie we kept singing (hip shaking included) as we watched Jill’s almost homemade dinner rolls quadruple in size as dinner came together and we gathered around her grandmother’s gorgeous table in sweat pants, wine glasses at the ready. We did have an actual book assignment which was loved by all that read it (about half).

The evening ended with a seems like hours-long game of Apples to Apples, complete with hysterical laughter, unruly behavior, illegal judge influencing, some flashing (of course) and a few literary references to The Old Man and the Sea until we all finally called it a night.

Biorhythms not yet calibrated, the early risers headed out for a long walk in the cool morning air through the incredible neighborhood, followed by a trip to the totally quaint Country Store. I don’t cook, so when I was asked to pick up some crusty bread for Laurel’s Farm Frau French Toast with real maple syrup from an actual tree, I didn’t want to embarrass myself and ask just what is crusty bread? Thankfully, a trip to the Country Store had just what I was looking for


and more - the nice small town people, the adorable cowboy roasting chilies outside, the driving with the windows down, Champagne by my side, ready for the mimosas. We devoured breakfast, right out of Gourmet Magazine, and as our stories circled the table, it became clear that no matter how different we are, we all have family trees full of strong women, good daddies, best friend siblings, loving grandmothers, kissin’ cousins and creepy brothers-in-law.

The day just got better and better with some antiquing, art gallery hopping, bull riding, happy hour at The Lion’s Den, complete with the world-famous wineburger, dinner at Charlie Clarks and a stop off at the bar with the good ‘ol boys for a night cap and a Big Gulp-sized roadie margarita. We wound up snuggled on the sofas on a cold night, safe from the thunder storms and hail, flipping through girlie magazines until we were all talked out.

The real world was calling, but we had one more glorious morning, breakfast outside in the sun before starting the re-entry process. We all told, asked, begged, begged, begged Miss Jilly B to make this a yearly tradition after a little more front porch time before packing up.


We now have three more days of memories, inside jokes and stories to tell that will tie us all together, like our mascot, Ms. Smut,

the Gertie temper tantrum at Mancuso’s reenactment, Jill’s big buns, the Miraval-like challenge course of overcoming the fear of opening a Champagne bottle, the watching In Her Shoes 6 times, the "is a frog's ass watertight?" and the “do I look fat in this thong?” One of our other tie us together moments from the past is the “Who Loves You, Pretty Baby” song from a fabulous trip to Vegas (Jersey Boys). As I was about to close the trunk on the somehow expanded in two days luggage, the song came on the radio, weaving through yet another Diva extravaganza – and the hips started moving and the voices started singing again – who loves you, pretty baby?  as we pointed the car downhill and headed home.

9/11/01

Playin' footsie

I was born pigeon-toed and flat-footed and I spend most of my time either barefoot or slopping around in really crappy shoes. Add all that up and it equals trouble. Now I have a bone spur in my foot. It hurts. It's that little extra thingy growing out of the bottom of my heel bone in the x-ray. Pretty, huh? I have orthotics somewhere in the back of my closet that Dr. Everythingwillbealright says I'm supposed to wear, except they only fit in the shoes that I don't like. My options are now to do what I'm told, wear good shoes and drug up or go see a Podiatrist so she can do God knows what to me with a really long needle.

Grandma shoes, here I come.

Three Day Weekend with the girls!

This is about the time of year that some of the girls and I head down to Tucson for a little spa time, but not this year. It seemed to have lost it's glow last year, or maybe it was us. So this year we're turning the car around and heading north, up to Pinetop for a little fun book club weekend in the forest - wine, women, song and a pine cone scrub. Maybe that will bring the glow back.

Movie Madness - My One and Only

Way before George Hamilton was tan and he thought there was too much sun in LA he was romping around with his mom and brother, trying to find a life away from his cheating band-leader dad. Great film set decades ago with incredible acting - funny, always root for the underdog, caper.  

The Cobra

Sometimes it would be so much easier to just drive on home after a long day, but whenever I walk into Tuesday night yoga, I'm always glad I dragged myself in. Tonight Mary said that one of the definitions of yoga is the cessation of thoughts. It's like a little break for your brain. While we were doing some cobra poses, we learned about how real snakes shed their skin every few weeks and how we could learn a lot from them. Are we still doing something the same way that we did it when we were seven? Twenty? Forty? Do we keep doing something every single day that we probably shouldn't? Is it time to let go of something that isn't working anymore, shed the past, renew??

Three Day Weekend Gets Official

It looks like the three day weekend idea is catching on. Saves money, saves the environment, reduces stress - what's not to love!

Read all about it...
T.G.I.T.

The Chaperone

I don't know what the law actually says, but today it forced me to watch Shawn touch some boobs. Boobs that weren't mine. See, I make the guy go to work on Saturdays. Well, every other Saturday. Every other Saturday morning, to be specific (over the summer it's only once a month, but he still moans and groans about it). I figure it's good for business. The patients love it, some just can't make it during the week, plus, he gets Wednesday afternoons off to make up for the whole horrible inconvenience.  But on Saturdays, it's just the two of us, a regular little mom and pop shop, since I can't entice any of our employees to roll into work on a weekend, at least until they run out of vacation time and that usually doesn't happen until later in the year. So unless there's a nurse around, no new patients or vaccines or Paps get scheduled. But every now and then, something comes up and Shawn peeks around the corner and tells me he needs some help, he needs a chaperone. A couple of months ago, a twenty-something had some questionable thing on her back, her low back, low, low, low back, way below her tramp stamp and I got pulled into that one, too. Today the chaperone-worthy part was on the other side and higher up. Appointment couldn't wait. Pre-op visit for surgery next week, nurse is off at Disneyland 'til Wednesday and surgeon needs faxed clearance letter Tuesday am, or else. So Shawn's face appeared at my door, interrupting my very, very important internet surfing. "Lisa, I need to do a breast exam. I need a chaperone." So we went in. I stood there glued to the wall, stared at my toes (overdue for a pedicure), listened to their chit chat and ran out the door when it was over.


Maybe we should just see guys on Saturdays.

High Noon, 75 degrees, Pouring Rain

High Noon, 75 degrees, pouring rain

just another summer day in the desert...

Bye Bye Big Surf

Oh no, say it ain't so. Big Surf is closing. Okay, I haven't been there for years. I don't even think I've seen all the new stuff that they have. I just remember the good 'ol days. The bragging rights when Phoenix got a beach, complete with actual waves coming every two minutes, the last day of school parties in middle school, the official and unofficial ditch days in high school, the waiting for mom in the parking lot sandy, sweaty, and sunburned after an entire day of eating hot dogs, boogie boarding, body surfing and peeing in the water. One time I even got sucked into the wave machine gate way under water and tumbled around and around and around until I got spit back out, probably just before my air ran out. And who could forget all of the summer night concerts and parties, toes wiggling in the sand, dancing in the dark. But it was never the same going back as a grown up. I took Shana a few times and the fun was replaced by "sunscreen, be careful, I'm not going on that twisted slide, and just ten more minutes, I mean it" until she got bored with the place, lured by the newer, fancier ones. But I never liked the new ones. They could never compare to Big Surf, the original, the one and only. So bye, Big Surf, thanks for the memories.

Book Club - The Cellist of Sarajevo

These girls can dance! The night ended with roaring music, hips shaking and suds flying in the kitchen. It started with Cathy. She picked a good book (confession, I started to read it, couldn't finish it, but after the reviews from the Divas, I'll give it another chance). She created an incredible meal that we all devoured and all the extras in between - the candles, the wine, the cute, nice guy husband that couldn't ignore the impossible to ignore book club and joined us for a round or two. We had a full house and reviewed the "What I Did Last Summer" stories. It's never really about the book with this crowd (although we're all big readers), it's about the sitting around the table and laughing and dreaming and sometimes crying and planning our next adventure (like the upcoming three day weekend in Pinetop - the words pole dancing kept floating around, so who knows what will happen up there!)

Tuesdays With Mary

My Dad always says, "Never explain your jokes," but Tuesdays With Mary 

Get it? Anyway. Now that I'm recommitted to yoga every Tuesday again, just to make sure I didn't leave when it's still light outside, Mary added a Meditation class (not medication) after yoga just for September. I've taken a couple of classes before, but never quite got it. I could never sit still, stop scratching, sniffing, peeking at everybody else, clear the crazy thoughts from my head or get comfortable long enough to accomplish anything, so I was a little skeptical. But I finally saw the light. Literally. We learned how to sit up with a straight spine with our heads up. This keeps you from falling asleep, just one little tip of the head and you could go into unconsciousville, which now I know, isn't the point. So Mary said some things, something about "who are we without thoughts, emotion and memories?" and eventually the crazy thoughts left and everything was still. Later on, I have no idea how much later, I saw a shooting star-like flash of light, sort of a colored horizontal beam orbiting inside my empty head (I know what you're thinking). Then it came again. Very cool. I'll be back next week and see what happens. The sun was gone after class, just the silhouette of Camelback Mountain lit up by the moon.

First Fall First Friday

Friday, September 4th
It's the first First Friday of Fall - anybody want to go? A quick trip through Phoenix Art Museum, down to Roosevelt Row, maybe a little wine...

The Bike Path Part II

I got a call from Shana, Little Miss I'm An Adult Now And I'm Responsible And If You Buy Me A Bike It Won't Get Stolen And I Really Need It And Yes, You Were Right, Mom, I Should Have Brought My Bike From Home, But This New Bike Is Necessary And I'll Always Lock It Up And I'll Always Lock The Gate At The House.

Guess what she said.