Friday, February 23, 2007
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Time whirs in a blur of THE impending award night, coastal travel, creative sparks, goddamn illness and simply bad news.
Had a wonderful sublime trip to SLO (San Luis Obispo) LOVE that town, and those who inhabit it especially lovely, talented photographer Sara and purrrfect Francesco. Excellent confab with the designated creative mind I have pursued – YES open to my speculations – we shall see. Then whisk back through the smog La La, a perusal of Los Feliz digs and we're off on the hunt for a 'flatwhite'.
Takes us a while to meander down the sad but truly hideous coast of the southern LA Pacific Highway through the actual OC. Gives me the Gold Coast, bad taste, tacky style and snooty people (with nothing to be high faluting about) blues….but then we crack through to La Jolla (Hoya) kinda cool, but where are you Steve where I need you?…
Anyway - downtown San Diego we finally find our booty - BONDI. F***king fantastic. Think Wallpaper* style new restaurant/caf../bar – all exported from Aus – design, style, staff, menu and all sundry accoutrements. Ex pat's whining for our coffee normal (no syrup thanks), bitter but sublime in essence & aroma, and milk normal not burnt just warmed, frothed and coaxed to perfection - and toast – simple sour dough with butter and vegemite! We relish the lack of sugar and fat that seems to exudes from nearly all food served up OT. It's dire I tell you. Half-half is a devilish mix of milk and cream they make your scrambled eggs (& everything) with while palming off no fat D sat milk for you to drink at home. Bread even has sugar in it - your teeth sing in protest all day. Jac and I have decided only Asian Cuisine can save us in SoCal. Thus we shall divine to eat Thai. Vietnamese, Chinese and sometimes Indian… The Mexician seems like a great idea , but after the meal it feels just toooo oily, too slimy for our Antipodean seasoned stomachs.
Arriving late in the night on the eve of Mardi Gras we must stay in the salubrious but brilliantly located YHA right in the heart of downtown. A manger in a storm - now it's bloody raining here...Hey, I thought it never rained in California!!!???!!!
Coming back into LA a tickling in my throat bodes not well for the coming days and yes I awaken to a deathly shuddering in my chest and a throat more streppy than just sore, can't stand without stars alighting my eyes and walking feels like the real deal trip. I must LIE down. For THREE DAYS - so far, and still down. Goddamn it.
Too off my infected lolly to even try to write. Sleep average of 16 hours a day.
With a temperature around 101 I decide I should miss (snivvel snivvel) seeing Gomez at the Wiltern (goddamn it!!). Anyway - thank you and allah, buddha and all the other deities divined by the populance of this planet please bless this house of Cooper Bates and his ever-loving family who let me lurk in the darkened room, coughing under covers and snuffling day and night.
Venture out foolishly to support my Aussie filmmaker pals with their Oscar short screening at Harmony Gold on West Sunset. Good to try to mingle with the ex-pats and our spattering of Actors in town for pilot season but the danged fever returns and I slip away before I faint dead to the floor.
See the lovely Rory (and the whole dang clan at Beck's orange grove place - plus Oscar-goer Rhys) and we skype with poor, sweet Janneke – recouping from her illness before she wings it our way. Pale and interesting is her new demeanour…as it seems will be my Mum's. Why oh why do things happen when you are away from the ones you love. Life never lets you catch wind, but throws another googly before you can say time out…and now I shall let it rest this new, sad, bad news...
For gold man fever is upon the town and we all must worship at the hallowed halls of the big O. fingers crossed for Jonathon and Stuart. Go The Saviour!!! |
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