hill or mount

in every way these two words sum up this year and most likely what to expect in the next. 

Foreign affairs.

With my most embarrassing moment taken care of I have now moved on to more spontaneous, romantic evenings...one particularly with a lad from across the pond.
Boy I am just checking things off my list these days including but not limited to, boy.
British boy at that.

Two days prior to meeting this creature, I had just catered a wedding for a British family where all the groomsmen had on GQ suits with yellow boutineers clutching their hearts like the hand of a woman introducing her new beau at a party. They looked like tiny meadows being kissed by the sun. Daffodils I think?
Of course after my enchantment from all of these suits and their delicate dialects, I was determined to move to London, open a bakery on a cobblestone street and live above said bakery on said cobblestone street with french baguettes as my children and cheese as their toys.

Two days later, I walk into the office on a hot October day (I live in southern CA and global warming isn't messing around) and as I begin to tend to the dishes left over from lunch I hear music. I turn and see a head of thick curly hair where I am greeted by tunes that sound rich, but not perfect, and sometimes the needle skips across a groove but it all lands smoothly into my ears. We both have that moment, the one after you yell someone's name from across the room realizing they're not the person you thought they were? Like we thought we knew one another...and the next three or so hours are spent dancing around actually speaking to one another.

"Hi", I reach out my hand towards this new but old gramophone before me, "I'm Bridgette".
"Oh hey Bridgette, yeah I was just going to introduce myself" his hand welcomes mine.
"What job are you here with?" Post production talk.
"Oh I'm actually here assisting Steve on Lincoln."
"Oh nice. How long are you in town for?" Small talk.
"Two weeks"
"You still recovering from jet-lag I guess, huh?" Not sure what-to-say-but-want-to-keep-talking-talk.
"Indeed I am, yes. It's killer." They say things like that...killer, epic, 'taking a piss' which actually means something completely different then going to the bathroom.
"Have you been to LA before?"
"No, this is my first time actually. I've been to New York but never to Los Angeles"
"Well welcome. Hopefully you'll have some time to explore the city while you're here then".
"I am hoping for that, yes" and I swear I saw a twinkle in his dark iris skies.

Fast forward past: our witty banter in the alleyway behind the office, our deep conversations about family and religion in the edit bay, me crying to an ad he cut and holding hands in the back seat of my car after a Halloween party to: his last night in town.

A few of us in the office stayed after hours and shared wine, told ghost stories and listened to music. Then cigarettes ensued outside (not by me mind you).
He and I stayed behind in the edit bay talking.

"How did your dad pass away-can I ask that? Is that, okay?"
"Oh no that's alright...he- it was cancer"
"That sucks...my grandma had cancer. That's where my deep hatred for cigarettes comes from...I'm sorry friend. You okay?"
"Yeah, I mean it was when I was 15 so it's been some time since it happened but..."
"It's still hard, yeah."
"Yeah...I think that's why I'm attracted to such strong women...growing up with only my mum and watching her take care of him through that and even though it's been so long since we lost him she hasn't dated anyone else and we all kind of know she won't you know? It's like, really sweet you know? She is quite tough"
I smile.
"This is really messing with me..."
I force some naivety. "What is?"
"This. You and me."
I look down still feeling his gaze on me, his hand reaches up reassuring his head of it's confusion.
Unsure of what to say, where to reroute the conversation or if I even should, I get up.
"Come on. Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"Just trust, come on."

We step outside into the arms of fog and she carries my vehicle with us inside to the Pacific.
We get out. He surveys. 
"Are you serious?"
I smile.
He laughs.
I laugh. 
We run.
Then,
the shoreline.
"I can't believe you brought me here! This whole time I've- I've wanted to come here and you made it happen, we're here! Should we- are we getting in?"
And then it happens. My leggings tell my legs 'it's time' and suddenly I'm splashing into 50 degree water with him behind me. It doesn't last long as I see the word hypothermia in bold red letters flash in my brain (yes I'm still-somehow- thinking).
We sit in the sand, he holds me, I shiver. He kisses the top of head and brushes kite-tails of hair away from my face.
"I find you astronomically beautiful Bridgette". Hey man, there's a first time for everything and that was definitely the first time I've ever heard that phrase. Astronomically...

I burrow further into his arms and we stare at the waves, watching the difficulty each one has in making a decision as whether or not to touch our toes.
He whispers, "I really want to kiss you right now..."
I whisper back, "I really want you to kiss me right now
...but..."
The but keeps him at bay.
But where would it go from here? Romeo and Juliet have already been done. Like I need that kind of romantic drama in my life...

I stand and gather the things I had previously abandoned to the sand. He hands me my vintage wrangler jacket. We walk back to the car. No words, just the ocean waves crashing behind us.
I drop him at his hotel.
"This was lovely Bridgette. And I don't just mean tonight..."
He leans over and kisses me on my cheek and my hand reaches up holding him there for a second longer.
"Night".
And he walks out of my life and into the Best Western.
"Goodnight you".

My head went face-first onto my steering wheel and I contemplated whether or not I should've ran after him, whether or not I should've created some cinematic moment where I say his name, he turns, and bam! Casablanca! 
The click of my passenger door pulls me up from the steering wheel and lips on my lips, hands on my hands holding his face, it happens.

(Insert romantic drama here).

i was asked so i will tell

This will be a longer post. But I PROMISE. It is totally worth your time. Please, adventure along through my demise with me.

**Please note the names have been changed out of the respect of others**

Me answering my phone on 4th and main in downtown Los Angeles September 2012.

 "Hello?"

"Hey there. How are you?"

"Good...I'm good...just standing under twinkle lights on 4th and main. You?"

"Yeah I'm good I'm good, just workin on my lines. What're you doing on 4th and main?"

"Having drinks with someone at Pete's Cafe"

"Is this someone you met while fishing?"

"...huh?"

"Plenty of Fish? It was a joke..."

Apparently this is a dating website unbeknownst to me. Needless to say, his joke did not land well.

"Oh. Um. No. No, I'm meeting with a couple of my girlfriends"

"Oh nice. Well I was just wondering when you wanted to rehearse tomorrow"

"My day is pretty much open so why don't you tell me what works for you"

"Can you do noon to two?"

"That works"

"And where did you want to meet?"

"Uh, well I thought I said we could rehearse at mine, is that, that works right?"

"Oh sure yeah...but um, well will anyone be home?"

"I mean...my brother may or may not be- but if he is we'll still be able to use the space"

"No actually, well I just wanted to make sure someone was there so it wasn't just the two of us..."

"Ohhhhh. Oh?"

"Ya know cause you're so ferocious and whatnot"

"What?"

Again, another joke that, much like the Challenger, took off with the lack of a landing. (Too soon?)

"Uhh, well no it's just my girlfriend--

Girlfriend. The word had a blinding effect on me. Suddenly a heaviness settled onto my chest like a cat curling up and everything became white noise. It felt as if someone reached through the window of my house and turned off all the lights inside of me. I could not see and yet my eyes were very open.

"...well, I just want to make sure I'm respecting her so I think it best if we rehearse in a public setting where there are other people around"

"Oh. Yeah no...sure. Yeah...I mean...I definitely want to respect that. And I do. I totally understand....um, well let me find out if my brother will be home and I'll let you know later does that- is that cool?"

"Yeah yeah just let me know"

"K. Will do. Have a great night"

"Yeah you too...enjoy your ladies night"

"Right. Okay. Bye."

As I walked back into Pete's my face crumpled and like an indecisive writer crumpling draft after draft, start after start, my girlfriends faces followed suit.

"Oh no...no no what happened?"

(SIGH) "He has a girlfriend."

"Oh bridge...I'm so sorry"

"I just don't understand..."

And this might be the appropriate place to explain WHY I didn't understand.

Okay. So. Here goes:

I am part of an organization that influences and inspires teens to make healthier choices. Essentially I get paid to perform sketches that encourage kids to stay away from risky behaviors. In the past there are other people I've performed with who have had to step into other roles within the production forcing us to hire new performers, one of them being the guy that plays my boyfriend in these said sketches. For this role we have now had to bring in: Kurtis James White. Beautiful isn't it? Like he's some kind of 18th century poet or the author of a life-changing book that propels you to pick up your things and move to another state after reading it.

He's an actor.

We map out a day and time to meet and he comes to Santa Monica where I happen to be house-sitting. I answer the door and there he stands in all his bearded glory.
Disclosure: When I meet someone new I'm pretty cautious as I'm quite protective of my friendships, my circles and the groups I belong to so when new people come into that picture I can get a little sassy. In this case I was incessant

I definitely made it known that he wasn't welcomed onto the team just yet. I felt I had to give him a sort of initiation...perhaps similar to what they do in sororities or fraternities minus all the alcohol and nudity. (I never belonged to either).

As I keep verbally challenging him he seems to one up me every time. He has a sassiness that almost trumps mine. Almost. I'm impressed. With our tongues acting as tennis rackets and our words the tennis ball, it appears to be a very good match.

Eventually we find our way to the table to "rehearse". (I use quotations here because we only go through the script two and a half times) One may think that sufficient enough but then one would need the rest of the details. Onward:

This kid was at my place for 4.5 hours. In that span of time, while we DID go through the script two and a half times, we also cried together twice (not full-fledged sobbing but there were definitely tears involved). He shared with me the death of his mother, the relationship his parents had- their first date was at Disneyland- the church and how because it's family we will undoubtedly get hurt but God asks us to learn to trust over and over again-- his revelation of this via a beautiful youtube video where a whale has to learn to trust the people who captured him in order to be free again--we make food and as I chop vegetables and toss a salad, he picks up the utensils I've placed down onto the counter and washes them almost before I even finish using them. It's as if this is our routine we've had for years. I share my disconnect within the current church I attend, he shares letting go of his old church and finding the one he attends now, the darkness he experienced after losing his mother, our family dynamics- he is an only child and I have three siblings. And we discuss how we feel it has affected and shaped us.

At one point, because of all of his questions, I say,

"I feel like you're grilling me"

"Well I am grilling you"

I smile. "I'm not scared"

Reciprocating, "I know you're not"

Over the course of 4.5 hours together we cry and laugh enough to where, if our laughter came in the form of tears we would have had enough to fill up one of those small, inflatable kid pools. It was the most vulnerable I have ever been with someone in the shortest amount of time I've known someone. And I didn't mean to allow him access into her, my heart,...he sort of found his own pathway in and so effortlessly to where, after he left, I actually physically missed him. My heart hurt. Such a heaviness. To the point where I called my mom. I NEVER call my mom about boys.

EVER.

It was kind of a Big event. That's the only way to describe it.

Perhaps you see now why I didn't quite understand how he could have a girlfriend.

Moving On.

"I just don't understand...I mean...we spent 4.5 hours together! Why didn't he leave after hour one or hour two max?!? We made food together and he did my dishes. It was like this dance that neither of us has ever danced but somehow we both already knew how to do it, as if we had already been dancing with one another this way for years...we CRIED TWICE together!! What was that?!? And aren't guys super on task...they know what needs to get done so they get it done? We only went through the script two and a half times! Didn't even make it through the last half! And he told me about his mom and I shared stuff...UGH...if I was his girlfriend I wouldn't be okay with any of this...and not to be super creepy but my friend Ann friended him on facebook and she said there are NO pictures of any girl that would appear to be someone he's dating..."

(For the current record I NO LONGER condone friends facebook-friending the guy you could see yourself falling for in order to get info on him. Ladies, just get to know him in person, TRUST ME.) 

So my lady friends respond: "Yeah that's super strange...when you're in a relationship, if it's healthy and you're excited about it you want to scream it from the mountain tops"

Me: "Right?!? Man...I just...I really thought we had a deep connection...I mean, that was a very uncommon occurrence for me...sort of magical...I just, I could really fall for this one and that's such a rarity ya know?"

And this is the part where I look down at the bar top to the place I had put my phone after rejoining my girls from outside,

and this is the part where I realize,

HE IS STILL ON THE PHONE.

Yep. That's right. THREE MINUTES AND FIFTY-FOUR SECONDS OF EVERYTHING YOU JUST READ.

IN HIS EAR.

He.

Heard.

Absolutely.

Everything.

I feel it necessary to reassure you of that because like you, I had the same hope that maybe he didn't hear. Maybe he only heard chunks of words here and there...maybe that's why he stayed on the phone listening for so long, I mean after all, we are in a noisy bar. The other seven people in there with us may very well have been louder than my big Hungarian mouth not even a foot from my phone, right??

Which is why I offer you the reassurance. After you read the next part where I  freak OUT,

he sends a text message that reads

"We're cool".

!

And let me just say, we are so not cool.

And by we I mean me.

Me: "NOOOOOOOOOO! That did NOT just happen!!!! THIS KIND OF THING ONLY HAPPENS IN MOVIES!! You know, to the sweet, kinda cute but super awkward girl that you like but feel bad for "

The ladies: "Oh Bridgette...I don't even- are you, wow...um. Okay, just breathe."

I let out all the air I've incidentally been holding onto: "What do I do? I mean, do you think he heard ALL of that??? How do I continue working with this kid? How am I going to rehearse with him tomorrow? I CANNOT see him. I can't. I have to move...I'm going to have to leave my friends and my family here in the states....okay...I just need to cry for a little bit."

IS THIS REAL LIFE?!?

No comments. Just faces of sympathy. Pain even. Like my face just exploded and they feel so sorry for me but all they can do is scrunch their own faces and pat my shoulder in despair.

And just in case it doesn't really register for you, I feel the need to ask you to try on my pair of 5 1/2 Morgan Taylor boots I wore that night. Because that's where I think you'll realize, yeah...this doesn't happen in real life. It may of never have happened before this misalignment in the universe took place in September on 4th and Main in Los Angeles California.This could very well be the first time in history that this has ever happened because the stuff I've read in Seventeen magazine? Doesn't even compare. Oh yeah the thread hanging from your swimsuit your guy friend decides to pull on thinking he's doing you a favor by removing it only to find out it's the string attached to your tampon?

Still. Not. As. Embarrassing. (Though I'm not denying it would totally suck)

So that's it. My most embarrassing moment has finally arrived. It only took 27 years. I wondered where it was.  Cause' ya know how you go to parties or social gatherings and you play those getting-to-know-you games? Questions such as, well..."what's your most embarrassing moment"? I've never had an answer for that. And it's not like I necessarily prided myself on that either. I was just one of the lucky ones...until I wasn't.CAUTION: Don't wonder things you don't want to find out about.

There now. I hope you find joy in my discomfort as otherwise it would be a worthless moment to have taken place in the history of the world, and may you move forward through life laughing often amidst emotionally pantsing yourself or having your tampon pulled out of your swimsuit.

go ahead,

ask me my most embarrassing moment.
cause it finally happened...

when he pulled me into him

and placed my head on his shoulder i didn't want
his shoulder...

"mudpie".

i think i met someone.

my account of the sweetest goodbye

thank you for making it your mission to Say goodbye to us. for that last moment we shared together.  

We took you to the vet on the 16th because you took a sharp turn for the worst. Mom and I waited for over 3 hours to get you back from there and you seemed to do a little better. we had fierce hope. we didn't realize at the time it was simply a bandaid that would hold you together for a couple more days.

that night you ate chicken, your favorite meal and we were all so excited! i clapped i was so happy. mom, joe and i drank wine while you had your chicken and we reminisced. joe went out to have a drink with a friend and mom fell asleep early because of her exhaustion from crying so much the night before. you and i on the other hand stayed up. we had some unfinished business didn't we? :)

i was putting towels away in the bathroom and you crawled out of your bed and trotted over to the doorway and just stood there. i said "hi little girls, little bear" which is what i always called you and thought you might have wanted more chicken. you didn't. thought you might have wanted more water. that wasn't it either. so i went to put some clothes away in my room and you trotted over to that doorway.

"little girls, what do you need? how can i help you?" i sat on my floor, uncrossed my legs, opened my arms and called to you: "silkwood, silky come here little bear". you looked at me with those deep hershey kiss eyes, the most wonderful eyes i'd ever seen. and then. you trotted over to me, right into my arms. this particular embrace was so very different as you usually make up your own mind to make me come and get you if i want a cuddle. but this time you came to me and i heard it as i hear the birds so clearly outside my window in the mornings: "goodbye Ashers. it's going to be okay. i love you very much". tears poured as if my eyes suddenly became rain clouds."i love you so so much Silky,thank you for everything, for 16 years of your loyal, spunky, sweet service to us. thank you for EVERY SINGLE THING. you've done so much for us. i love you baby girls. i love you..." you laid on the floor then and i laid down right next to you and just pet you until you were ready to go back to your bed next to momma.

you truly were our best dog yet. loyal to a fault. you practically helped rear joe and i when we were little and momma would work so late. you made us all so much better than who we were when we started out 16 years ago and you've shown us the purest form of God's love- how unconditional it was, how much of it you gave. you have the sweetest heart and most precious face. i will love you forever and ever and look forward to one day crossing the rainbow bridge to meet you and all our other pets from past seasons. one day, i'll come to that bridge and you'll look up at me with those eyes of yours and come running with that long tongue of yours lapping out. and one day, we'll sit once again on that stoop in the sun, you on my belly as i stretch out across the warm ground. one day, we shall never be separated again my little girls. see you soon. all my heart little Silkwood.

your Ashers.

stressful dream sequence...

It shouldn't be work when you're sleeping but last night was exhausting!

So...I went to a MALL, which I very much dislike malls so already we're in some rough terrain here. I was then forced to valet my car but I still had to park it myself-? and there were no stores selling mattress covers which is what I had gone in for. I felt so lost and scared like Jenifer Connelly in the labyrinth when the old bag lady tries to distract her with a lot of random junk. Just then a loud speaker comes on to tell me time on my car was up and it would be towed then I couldn't find my way out and no one would help guide me. Suddenly Elijah Wood (who was my fourth celebrity crush ever after Michael J Fox, Chuck Norris and Jonathan Taylor Thomas) sees me scream and then break down and cry, rolls his eyes and walks away! Finally I find my way out only to realize I left my entire bed in another store as I apparently brought it w/me to shop...? So I'm in my car and need to get all the way over to the right lane but no one will let me through and I end up almost in an accident because a huge telephone booth has been dropped into my lane by one of those massive cranes that's apparently being destroyed by the end of the world.

Needless to say, today I am tired.

hearts can be won with treehouses

My Grandpa built me a treehouse when I was little that I've posted on here before and it was my safe haven. The only place I've ever felt secure was either when my entire family was packed into a tiny car before Mom and Dad's divorce or up in that treehouse, my Grandmother using a rope and pulley to send me snacks in the summer.

There's something really special about the rain outside my window today.
And there's something about the natural, dim, "mood-lighting" the clouds have crafted that has wandered into my living room. Bon Iver taps against the poorly insulated walls, while a french press waits to be pressed-the smell dances to the bounce of the piano keys. It's days like this I feel an intense longing and yet I'm also so very happy- elated and sad- all at once. Because even though I cannot fulfill the longing to share this magic with someone it's like a secret no one else knows but me.
Like going to the movies by yourself.

i am not a hipster...or am i?

after looking through old friends photos i think i've come to the conclusion of what a hipster really is. seems to me that all the normal stuff we do back in Missouri, ie wearing plaid, riding motorcycles, hanging out at quarries, putting on whatever suits our mood for that day, growing mustaches and mullets sometimes at the same time, lighting dairy creamer on fire off J-road tower, throwing food off J-road tower, making out on J-road tower, wearing dresses over our jeans and big boots with our shorts- is the kinda stuff people are trying to pursue out here. so really, if you're a dun-dun-duuun "hipster", maybe it just means your a kid out of place. you'd prolly do real well in MO if you didn't have those dreams of becoming a rockstar. actually...even still.

 oh. AND.  listening to more records than our ipod after going thrift store shopping to assist those aforementioned eclectic moods of ours. yeah LA, we kinda branded that, us Missouri kids. just sayin.

falafel and my mind

sitting at the gypsy cafe my dear friend works at I ponder these things:

living out of my car could be worse and getting things stolen are just things, i can't take them with me when my body exhausts itself and my soul is left to leaving this place. i'm tempted to leave bags of things outside my car for ppl's taking...

my heart could burst from the people that have come alongside me to love on me in a simple question of whether or not i need anything or to give me a hug in this time.

i wish my stomach were a little smaller. or maybe i wish it were bigger so it could handle all the food i eat. !

"little singer".
what did THAT mean...?

my old friend that has moved on in this season...thankful to have been able to love him well and hope i have the energy to continue to. wish i could talk to that girl he adores and let her know how stupid she's being, that she should give him a chance as i just want him to be happy.

janet.
healing. seeking. may she find God as i feel that i have.

where might my brother and i end up inhabiting and will we in fact make the music i've longed to make together? will ppl come see us and clap?

"broad clearing", and whether or not i made a mistake...

laughter...i hope it comes again and hard.

friendship...how complicated it is but worth each complication (i hope and need to be vulnerable to discover).

my grandma and how i wish i could call her right now, explain life and feel that soothing scratchy tone she had with me every time i was upset.

whether or not to order more falafel.

twenty6

i had to calculate my age the other day because i forgot how old i was going to be. i started with 1985 and worked my way up. just as i suspected, i am twenty six.

it always looked a lot more magical and somewhat figured out in my mind, the one that i saw. maybe it was someone else's twenty six i was seeing and waiting for. as if i psychically envisioned it. whoever saw mine must be pretty relieved...it looks like the sxity dollars i get for the four year-old's bed i sleep in while looking after a rescued boxer for two days, a car with a rack of clothing keeping the back seat company until it finds a more permanent residence and pockets that keep opening up and betraying the coins they allowed occupancy to. quiet. silent. distilled. twenty six.

but the one that i saw still had her in it. Ruth. my grandmother. and their house. 214 East North street. and he still lived there with her, my grandfather Robert. the one that i saw still had the partnership between Robert and a particular tree in order to build a small house for our summers there. this twenty-six had me coming home for the holidays hand in hand with him, the one who fights me for me and wins. we walk up those four front steps i befriended for a whole summer in 1993, our mouths like tiny fog machines in the winter air.

laughing we enter the room Ruth stenciled all her own on a ladder who took up residency in that front foyer for what i think was over a year. first, the aroma of a marriage greets us: ham becoming one with coca cola, pineapple, cherries and brown sugar. my grandmother's recipe. then, my grandmother: large glasses from 1981 framing her eyes that by now would be seemingly smaller. maybe more rectangular. a half a moon at a one hundred eighty degree angle worn on her face with just a speck of silver peeking out-lines surrounding the outter limit. wrinkles. like a stone tossed into a pond- proof of joyful moments. rings on a tree. she grabs me first holding me the way that by now my heart has ached 13 years to be held. then she pulls him into the both of us, the laughter catches and we don't pull away because we realize how special it is. she makes one of those comments about how handsome he is as if i've told her a hundred times (because i have) and i blush while he takes his thumb and rubs one of my cherry-colored cheeks. a couple of uncles and an aunt stand beyond the foyer to the right of us on orange carpet that now is no longer there. we wave and then meet the rest of everyone in the kitchen.

he holds his own as i move towards the estrogen in the room, catching up with my sisters and my mother who in this version are content and satisfied with their lives. glasses of wine in hand symbolic of celebratory means only. the four of us stand and watch him talk to my grandpa, my dad, my disapproving brother who appears to be approving and the estranged uncle who isn't so estranged in this particular twenty-six. we throw and catch smiles in between our separate conversations, the smiles act as rainbows to our words. then i decide it's time to "save him" and as i approach i take his hand saying something clever to the testosterone in my family. something like "sorry to interrupt but we really should finish that important conversation we were discussing in the car ride here". i barely get it out through laughter. we smile at the men of my family and exit out the back door just off the kitchen towards the small house resting in the tree.

we stand on the deck my grandfather built for my grandmother in 1995, just a few years before she left us.

i'm looking up at the stars, silently uttering the most grateful prayer for this day, this moment, this feeling, the peace and harmony that has introduced itself. he's looking at me looking at the stars. i look at him. "i want to get closer to them" i whisper. so i lead him to a small ladder that takes us up the tree. we stand in this summer home of mine smiling, happy. resting my head on his chest he whispers "hi". as i look at him he leans in and kisses my forehead, his hand holding the back of my head.

it always looked magical in my mind. as it is, i'll let the dog out, brush my teeth and curl up under the spongebob blanket hoping that somewhere it was or will be somebody's twenty-six.

they say when it rains

it pours...





i'm scared that while i feel twirled up into a monsoon the pouring hasn't even begun yet.
i pray i'm wrong.