Saturday, June 28, 2014

Can I call you? I know it's late.

It is late, although it's early for him.  It's 2:10am pacific time / 5:10am eastern, and my husband has surmised the last 60 hours in a two line text.  We're both struggling to understand just what the fuck happened.  My bones feel the torment 3,000 miles away.  And you're paralyzed into staying put, but your mind concocts any way to right a situation that has gone horribly wrong.  Sometimes the best laid plans... right? 


The reason for my Lady Vacation with puppy was because Travis agreed to road trip to the south, with a presented goal of doing comedy.  It would be his first real chance to wet his tastebuds being a comic who performs outside Los Angeles.  Do the whole bit.  It wouldn't be the same as being a true "road comic," who are on the road more than they are off.  But dude, test the waters.  The plan seemed solid.  Have the clubs set him up with a room; see the local sights; get to experience the feeling of making a little money.  Los Angeles knows it doesn't have to pay people to perform.  But it's that entertainer's desire to be on stage, lured by a dangly green carrot, which drives them to the brink of such propositions. 

Every comedian is mad in some way,  pushing to get their fix in laughter.  We shouldn't trust them to make proper plans.  Not all of them anyway, which is why they get a manager.  Someone has to be the suit AND deal with your obsessive, your manic, your recluse, your perfectionist, your addict, your depressive, your over achiever, your impressor, your fake, your hustler, and the minority of your mostly stable comic.  Only one of these is capable of wearing a pair of creative and business pants.  I'm married to him.  But even he needs help at times; we all do.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

La historia de dos Hermanos

Leroy, the Puppy Boy, has been with us almost a year; July 4th to be exact (read about his April birthday.)  We are so, extremely lucky and overjoyed at how wonderful a boy he is and how brilliantly he enhances our lives.  My brain can't process how 55 weeks ago, he wasn't in our faces.  Running up to say hi when we get home; Tough-guy prancing around; seeing his cute little underbite; Always on the lookout for that pesky squirrel.  And simply being our sweet boy...
 
His adoption situation was a wonderful, unique experience coming from the Glendale Humane Socieity.  It was all about family and building a strong connection, rather than getting these buddies out the door.  I really appreciate that modern take, because we're now friends with the shelter staff, trainers and other puppy parents!  Between the crew and social media, we have an open door for continuing the sibling bonding experience most dogs don't get.  Seeing them grow and following their entire lives is now totally possible and totally necessary.  It's so fucking special!!  gah!

A few weeks back, I remembered one of Leroy's siblings, Mr. Bentley Jackson (formerly Dolce) was on Instagram.  I have an instagram account but figured me sending Bentley a photo from my face would be weird.  So I created one for Leroy!  You should check it out, cuz why the hell not.  Sorting through the complexities of the site, oogling how to send a message, realizing you can't send a message - man, all I wanted to do is tell him and his mum - hey, we're here!  But through pawseverance, score!  We connected and yesterday, about 50 weeks later, two sets of giant, most cuteably squishy ears reunited.

We're so fucking lucky.  xo x a million.

 SGT. Leroy Buckles, re-meet Mr. Bentley Jackson

Bentley is the little blonde / Leroy is grey with a white nose



LOOK AT THEM NOW!!






















Wednesday, June 11, 2014

We were happy and then we weren't.

Not too long ago, I found out my first (and only) serious boyfriend (before Travis) got married.  The emotions I felt weren't planned.

The backstory, September 1995.
I stepped foot onto my high school campus a naive, nervous wreck wondering what friends I would make and whether I would get in a fight.  I always had this strange obsession some chick was plotting to jump me and my noodle arms weren't used to physical punching.  9 months later though, I left that June graduation day happy any calls of "freshman scrub" would bounce right off, happy I was fist-fight free, and all the while realizing I discovered some of the best friends that luckily remain with me today.  They can-opened my world to a level of friendship I truly needed and exposed my brain to experiences.  Throughout the final day, we had been trying to figure out something brilliant to do since summer-time central was happening.  We finally got wind of a post-graduating party, which holy shite was gonna our first. ever.

I saw him by way of drunk-on-Boones Strawberry Hill hazey eyes, playing bass at the party.  I don't remember whose idea it was to buy Boones, but I guess if your first teenage introduction to alcohol is gonna be an easy one, Boones isn't the worst.  The wall I teetered on was kind enough to keep me upright, while he and his punk band played in the living room.  He had a mohawk, which kept slowly moving around the room, despite his body being so animated.  I remember I couldn't focus on his face, but I sternly thought man that guy is fucking cute - I should totally make out with him.  But instead, as Boone's is one to do, I went outside, sat in the bed of a truck and made out with another feller.

That non-introduction would be the only encounter for a few years, but he would pop in my thoughts when my mind went reminiscing.  We did end up meeting organically though, walking to class one day; I didn't realize at first it was the guy who had stopped my beats.  My friend struck up a conversation with his buddy, leaving us to naturally start our own.  As the chit chat played out, I realized who it was and left in a giggly mess.  From then on, our romance flourished into an awesome, illuminating and bittersweet stretch of time...


The Present:
I don't want to focus on the things we did or the firsts we shared, but rather how someone from so long ago can still strum the emotional chord reserved for their pitch.  When that chord has been neatly wrapped in flannel for almost 20 years, I was blindsided by the memories it stirred.  And way confused why my heart cared.  Really - how is it even possible my first boyfriend could actually be over me...?!      Thanks facebook.*

My left hand has always wanted him to be happy.  I mean, we were happy and then we weren't.  Or at least I wasn't.  During the break up, he didn't seem to understand my reasons.  But I hope in retrospect it was just a bad case of the young eyes.

My right hand, my dominant hand, secretly wishes there will always be an unfulfilled cell by me leaving him.  It's a little twisted but I believe more based in reality than most will admit to.  I guess it's the emotional hunger that is appealing.  To be desired.  Wanted by someone, no?  Even if we've removed a person from our lives, doesn't mean we don't imagine them still giving a fancy.

* I only found out through Facebook because one of my high school girlfriends from above, liked his life change update - I am not online friends with him.  Although, like many people, used to occasionally look him up.  you know, just out of curiosity.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Because I don't want a girlfriend anymore.

Keeping with the little bits of sentiment lately, many people don't know how Travis proposed one fateful day.

It was just right...

We had conversations early on about marriage, casually over the course of getting to know one another.  I was a little taken aback when Travis said with conviction he'd never get married.  It wasn't the commitment to someone answer, but rather he didn't need a piece of paper proving yatta, yatta, yatta answer.  He also never wanted to get a divorce, so being in a soceity where that is norm, it's a turn off for him - I get it.  But I'll admit I was a little disappointed since that seemed to be the next step everyone takes after a few years of dating.  Thanks society.  But after the initial bluntness of Travis' answer, I spent a fair amount of time realizing that worked for me too.  I actually didn't care of the implied importance.  Many years went by until that conversation strolled by our informal dinner table again.  Our relationship grew deeper and we each knew more about who we were.  And more importantly, who we were together.

Somewhere around year 6 of dating, Travis mentioned he wanted to gather the few family items left to him.  I didn't think much of it.  Bonds from this relative and jewelry from so and so.  The one thing that always meant the most to him, was his mamaw's wedding ring (father's mum.)  He'd pondered getting it for years but wasn't sure where the ring ended up, at times his mom even thought it had been stolen.  Again, I didn't think much of it since Travis was extremely close with his mamaw.  He lived with her in Macon, Georgia for a spell, until he and his parents moved to Los Angeles when Travis was five.  Each summer, he would go back to visit, until she passed when he was a teenager.  Mamaw helped shape his childhood and gave him incredible memories any kid would be proud to have - including tea coffee.  I'm bummed I never got to meet her but he wrote about one special memory.

The stigma of marriage silently washed away as the years passed between us.  Within those conversations about the mementos, it became easier for us to talk about "what ifs."  What if we did get married?  Would we have to invite people X?  Would it be local or cater to insistences from relatives?  We agreed to have a wedding that encapsulated us and our personality, but left it at that. A little unresolved, which didn't help with my spiking think meter.  What if he asked me?  I mean he won't, but what if?  Am I that person to get married to someone who doesn't want to, yet seemed super right if we did?  What kind of ring did I want?  Nothing new, of course (due to often horrible working conditions.)  The dress - oh man, what would I wear?  I don't care about it being white - what if I got a vintage red-carpety type gown?  Something I'd look spectacular in.  Those thoughts came in short spurts of the internal kind, but never making me nuts to think "why hasn't he done it yet?"  "If he doesn't, I'm leaving this relationship!"  never.  It ultimately sounded like a rad idea, but whether we were or were not declared on a piece of paper, our relationship was fantastic and would continue far beyond that decree.

Little did I know, he and his mother found the ring and his planning begun.

On Jan 20, 2010 (year 7), I had gone to work like any other weekday.  I wasn't scheduled for a meeting but this chick called and wanted to brainstorm ideas on something important at the time.  At this point, me and this chick had been friends, hanging occasionally outside work.  But just like the dude from my meeting Travis story, we are no longer friends with her either.  I SWEAR it's not us.  So I went down to her office for what should have been 30 minutes.  Soon in, I realized I forgot my phone.  Travis had always asked I keep it with me, in case he had an emergency, especially with his back being so awful.  After I realized we'd been talking shop for 90 minutes, I had to go - sensing Travis needed to get hold of me.  I went back to my office where three voicemails and boats of text messages awaited me.  crap.  The texts started off simple enough like where are you, can I stop by.  Leading into more urgent pleas, can you call me, I really need to speak to you.  The tone in the voicemail was the worst since I could hear something big was up...

It was around 11a or so when I finally got hold of him.  He was extremely somber and off, even for a person in chronic pain.  He said he was close, needed to speak in person, and would be to my work in about 10 minutes if I could wait downstairs.  I secretly panicked.  A hundred ideas ran though my head about what it could be... Did something happen to his parents, his brother, was he breaking up with me, or completey opposite and he had been offered an amazing job?  At the time, the last option was actually the most likely given his personality, so I wagered on that.  Hell, it was better than thinking our relationship was kaput.

It started to drizzle...

I'm outside and I see him walking up.  His face is like a stone faced weeping angel and I'm kinda freaking out.  I remind myself this is probably the opposite of what's actually happening and I'm about to hear his good piece of news.

It's still drizzling and I have no umbrella...  He walks up.

"Brandi, I've been thinking a lot lately and I have no interest in having you as a girlfriend anymore."

Here's exactly what went through my head in a span of NO JOKE, 2 seconds:
  • I'm sorry, what the fuck did he just say? 
  • Is he seriously breaking up with me at work?  naw...
  • Is he about to ask me to marry him?  naw...
  • What is happening?!?
As he bendt down on one knee, all I could think was WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR BAD KNEES AND BAD BACK ON THIS HARD CEMENT.  GET UP!!!  I still didn't put it together since I was so focused on his body parts.

"Because (the most genuine, non-cheesy smile) I wan't you to be my wife."

So my heart stopped.  What my eyes saw was the most beautiful art deco ring, that was exactly what I had envisioned all those discussions ago.  Prior to this moment, I'd never seen the ring, it had never even been described to me.  All I knew was his mamaw wore it everyday, even after her husband passed, and she wanted Travis to have it.  I stood there staring, in awe of this symoblic gesture and giant honour, entrusted to me in precious metal.

I looked at him and everything that made sense, was looking back.  I needed to preserve it for eternity, if only a second.  My brain said speak, silly bird.  I of course said YES*!  I hugged him, I unexpectedly shed happy tears, and I saw a bright future.

After the initial excitement and stares from passers by, we just sorta stared at each other.  Giggling.  Like what do we do now?  Is there something to do?  Travis said he'd been with his mom all morning waiting for me to call, so he suggested we visit her nearby work to share the swell news.  On the car ride over, my brain was swimming with emotion and I struggled to say something poignant (always say something to be remembered by, hints my noodle.)  But all I could form was "We can tell your parents, but I'm not ready to tell anyone else."  I know that's a totally weird reaction.  It's not because I wasn't over the moon, quite opposite actually.  I was just so unprepared for this life changing even to actually be real.  I also wasn't a big jewelry person, despite the ring being tops.  Plus, I guess I had to use words like engaged and fiance - it was foreign!  Saying that felt like marbles in my mouth and I just wanted to be a little more normal first.  bizarre.  I guess the only highlight was the emotion of being part of a secret club, like people could tell there was something special about me.  Maybe that's how people feel when they find out they'll be having a baby.

The rain let up and the clouds parted, signifying our next chapter.  Or some junk.


* If you ask Travis, I never made a sound before hugging him.  He figured it was positive since I didn't run away, but he asked again and I made sure to say YEEEESSSSSSS. *