HEAT WAVE

Boys. French boys. Cute French boys. The Pet Shop Boys. Boyz Noize.

Now this is turning into an adventure. What good is all that beret wearing, all that mime, all that hard long...bread without some action. Here's a question: French kissing?

Here's another question: Portland? Correct me if I'm wrong, but the last adventure to take place near Portland was when those kids went after One-Eyed Willy's treasure, before that it was Lewis and Clark. Oh shit, did I just forget Harry and the Hendersons? Get back to France where the lack of deodorant is charming and where an adventure is already in progress.

The sun has an office in Los Angeles. We're in the midst of a heat wave. 102 in the Valley, 90's in Santa Monica. When I go outside I feel like that nazi in Indian Jones who's face melts off. Caleb doesn't know what's good for him. His white, half Wisconsin-German half Polish-Jewish-New-Yorker-Los-Angeleno skin is naive. He wears more sunscreen in a day than most Pepperdine College sorority sisters where in a lifetime.  

As you know from living in Los Angeles, even though the sun shines through all four seasons, summer does still carry that carefree mentality.  We've been out and about a lot more. We've taken Caleb to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, we've been familiarizing ourselves with the old school soda fountains of South Pasadena, and the Mom and Pop ice creameries of Alhambra.  I've enjoyed the company of men, golfing before work at Penmar in Venice and drinking afterwork at Big Deans under the Santa Monica pier.  Caleb's tearing up the playgrounds of Studio City and Sherman Oaks.  All that's left to do is to smoke a joint in the parking lot of Dodger stadium and heckle baseball players from neighboring San Diego or snobby San Francisco.      

Summer is the time when you abandon your plans to leave Los Angeles and you get excited about all it has to offer again.  Summer is the opposite of having to go home for the holidays.     

Flowers and Fresh Love.

Hello future brainiac. What's new? Over a month has passed and I've written nothing. I feel terrible about it. Do you feel terrible, too? I hope not.

I've been a bit lazy / complacent about correspondence because my perception has been in a constant state of flux and I haven't felt that I can weigh in on any one topic, perspective, or feeling, with a definitive viewpoint. Definition is probably overrated anyway. Do you wanna know why? Boys. Or more to the point, one boy in particular. I'm totally ga-ga over the cutest Frenchman you could ever hope to meet, and it scares the hell out of me.

Relationships really get me nutty. There's so much pessimism and doubt floating around out there in regards to couplings, it becomes really hard to just close your ears and let what you've got going be it's own thing. I hear all these voices saying guys always cheat, women are always overbearing and jealous, everyone's suspicious, you'll never sustain passion..... ahhhh!!! Turn it off, TURN IT OFF!! I feel like I may be finally reaching a state of equilibrium, at least for the time being, so I write to you my friend!

I'm in Portland at the present moment, and it's exploding with flowers and green things. It's so damn beautiful here, and it smells amazing! If it wasn't so boring I might consider moving back. I was thinking about leaving Paris. The dollar situation is so grim, it's hard for me to afford living over there right now, and teaching myself French has proven to be very difficult. Now that I'm gone I'm totally missing it, and the summer was just getting good when I flew out, so I've decided to keep at it and have faith that the money issues will work themselves out, as they so often do. Also, I'm going to start speaking French like I really think I know what I'm doing and filter out all the giggling from the recipients of my broken dialog. I hope that helps. It will be a good exercise for my ego at the very least.

How's the baby coming? Do you know what flavor it will be, or is that a surprise? What else is new?

Bisous.