Original date of post: Wednesday, April 20th, 2011.

I've had a long transit commute for 2 years now and I have, with little doubt, seen all the nonsense and all the greatness that our society can dish up. Oh, the diversity! Gee whiz people. Indeed, to be twice daily amongst this march of characters may be a prevailing reason why I do it in the first place. Other than to travel to and from the job that I love, simply because it changed my life. Actually, I spent my first months on transit trying to sum up the experience of transit. Trying to find the perfect way to describe that the bus was a microcosm of whatever it is a microcosm of. Everyone thrown in like pinballs entering the glass-enclosed machine only to get completely shoved into each other for reaction, all being tested to not react; sneaking looks at each other's text messages, how the hell do bus drivers do this job oh my goodness it's gnarly, analyzing outfits, trying to remember what we're supposed to remember, trying to forget what we would like to forget . . . we doze and drown out, get low but look alive.

Entering a bus or train requires darting, quick visual scans of each and every rider to try and assess what you really got yourself into today. All this while trying to look cool. As if your really just reading watching a TED lecture on your phone. Eh. I could go on forever really, but I'll stop. Save it for another day. I'll talk just about today.

There's a few things that I've seen only very few times. I'm talking like maybe 3 times total, maybe. So, uh, great work day today, then shopped for great stuff, got a great snack and then left the city for home. Varied up the ipod a little more, enjoyed that muchly. Different crowd on train cuz it's a little later, cool, i get to bump up the people watching. And then I see it. It's always on mute cuz she's not close to me and I have headphones on. She's on the phone and it's not bad yet, but I think even then I knew. Is it because I been there before? But I haven't. She's older, old enough to have little grandchildren. She's done so much more. If she looks at me will we see that we are the same? 

Maybe it doesn't matter cuz all pain is the same. Wait, that's not true, that's not smart. well, how can anyone really know anyways. I look to see if anyone else sees it. I look at her knowing that she's not looking at anything because she wants everything to turn into nothing for a long time. Or at least until she gets to her car or her home. . . because this woman is standing up straight because she is strong, she has grace in her face and she has experience in her eyes. She is fighting back large tears. She is fighting them not because of you or me or them, she is just fighting them because they have come and she wants them to come and she wants them to go. She is sadness AND peace AND strength AND power. And they have nothing and everything to do with her tears. She's known for a long time that she can't even start to dream of salvation, only for the winds to not blow away every single leaf. She's lived with just one before. Above all this, she knows like a parent knows it's child's eyes that her roots will always do their job, just as long as she can keep looking out the window and allow the nothing to take her until she has to meet the fight again. I'm amazed at this sight. It's not new nor is it even certain, but I know only that it is amazing and that I cannot help but let it stop my day, if only for the two minutes in between train platforms. I am amazed because it is amazing. It looks beautiful because it is beautiful. 

I got my blogs all mixed up!

I got my blogs all mixed up. I always intended to put the blogs simultaneously on here and on Facebook notes. But I guess I lost my way. . . Anywho . . . I'm going to put them up now just for archiving purposes mostly. I"ll date them appropriately. . . . Hugs! -Carolynn

How much is time really worth? #notablogaboutmoney

I sit here at a busy coffeehouse. An old man who seems to be a ucla professor asks me to watch his effects while he moves his car. I tell him i dont mind one bit. Among his belongings is a MacBook air. He is very friendly and absolutely insists that I may leave it if I have to leave and he takes too long. He walks away leaving the stunningly flashy laptop, clamshell open, atop a custom leather folio case. He leaves and insists again that I can leave because 'no one steals here and besides, every one here has their own computer'. I nod and smile while my mind is full of "!!!!". I really love old people. I especially love old educated persons. 

I am ready to leave. I think he's been gone 20 minutes. I vow to sit and people watch for ten more minutes. It's something I like to do and so why not? I've also considered myself to be of major amounts of patience like 90% of the time. But for some reason, I'm struggling with this new scenario. 

I over-think this whole thing. Of course. I wonder if I'm on a candid camera show and it's all a trick. That'd be lame. I'm not down for that, it's Friday, I'm tired and my hair is fugly today. I wonder if he will be so astounded by my kindness that he will exclaim, 'Young brown woman! I am astounded by your kindness! You are still here guarding my effects! You also look poor! Here's $50, I have so much more money at home from my 30 years of research work at ucla. Geez! I mean, I've been at the forefront of every breakthrough in the field of abnormal psychology for a minute now. I'm actually not sure what to do with all this cash so maybe you should have it, you absolute angel!'

I stay an extra 20 min. Sure I have things to do, and a dog waiting. But most of those things involve sitting on my ass and whatever is on the E! Or TruTV channel, so I wait and write on my iPod, continue to write, and try to eavesdrop on conversations around me. That's always fun! One thing that you haven't figured out about Carolynn — She is a nosy ass bitch!

Then I see what's happening here. This is a karma test. Just this week I was dealt the horrible news that my MacBook' drive is corrupted and to fix it will cost lots of money that I don't have. The chances of me recovering my data is also slim. I am here to either to choose to leave and be a part of the reason his laptop is stolen or stay and let all that good Apple karma flow to me at a time when I really need it. 

THEN ... He returns and guess what?!?!?!

He gave me a warm thank you and I told him it was no problem.

I just came home. Despite having a mini computer with my Incredible 2 Droid phone, and ample time for internetting (I take the bus in the mornings), I open my computer and find no less than 10 open internet pages for me to peruse, scan or read very carefully. A typical session at the mighty MacBook begins. This time, I want to inventory how much reading/bullshit I actually read on the internet almost daily. Why? Because it's fun . . .


Lykke Li sent out a note, just speaking to her fans - as an artist, how life is treating her. I'm giving it my full attention when I get home, cuz for some reason my Droid won't respect the alignment of the text in her email and it's coming through all cut off. I put a star on it, and mark it as unread.


TheSuperficial.com - Absolutely hilarious writing. But I tend to just scan it for 3 seconds for the celeb pics, most of which are very incriminating, especially since most of the pics are boring sightings of pseudo celebs going to the Farmer's market . . . Guilty pleasure, yes, of course. Visited daily, almost without fail. Just did the math, every year I spend a minimum of 18 minutes and 25 seconds on this site. Worth it.


Other - Today I read about a lot of downtown LA news, including Skid Row issues, lack of hotel rooms, and a doggy park. All while screaming out more (correct) answers than Lonny, while watching Jeopardy!


3-5 other scattered pages - They are lists of websites of lists of calendars of events of event listings. Mostly free events around LA for the summer. . . . Shakespeare in the park stuff, outdoor movie screenings, concerts in downtown LA. The reasons I live in the city.


LAist - I usually read this throughout the day. One of the best blogs about LA, I think. Well-rounded with news, culture and let's me know exactly what's going on. Also, more of the funny/stupid celebrity crap that I need.


Gmail - Kept pretty clean. Just Groupon and guestlists. Cuz that's what's up.


Facebook - You know what it is.


YouTube - Finally, and this one comes in spurts, I want to go on El Tubo to completely lose myself in music videos and the like. Currently watching Sia, Kina Grannis covers, old Katy Perry coffeehouse acoustic vids, Fun. covers, other covers, and more Sia.


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tv

I've had TV for 2 weeks or so. I find myself putting it on mute even when Lonny goes to take a shower or walk the dog. My relationship with television has continuously changed. I love all the interesting docs, ofcourse. I'll always love cooking shows, and maybe anything else that comes off as mildly instructional. 


But right now, Lisa Ling is KILLING IT with these last two episodes of her documentary show on OWN network. Absolutely making me feel like this box in my apartment is sometimes more worthy than the internet or books (currently found the sequel to 'Waiting to Exhale' at the library! YES!) First there was one about people who are transgendered, including a little boy who always identified himself as a girl. Would draw herself with fairy wings on and high heels. Even changed his name himself. 


Then there was an episode about nuns. It was really well balanced, showed a young girl get absolutely giddy about joining the strict convent. She is allowed to write one letter to people outside the convent a week, and can take only phone messages. Saying goodbye to her mother, she handed over all her jewelry, her credit cards, and sent her last status update on facebook. Another nun is this little librarian looking Irish lady. A part of a new wave of convents that doesn't wear habits and works bringing counseling, housing, food, etc to young runaways in Hollywood. Most of which are transgender, or gay, sometimes kicked out of their homes by their parents and live on the streets. Try to catch this episode, really well done.

Thirty

Looks like they're not there anymore due to a fire. Ugh.

I rarely give money to bums. Today I did though - in a way. He only asked for 45 cents. And we were at the bus stop. Which prolly meant it was just one of those days when he was short and banked on fellow understanding transit riders to help, cuz we all know its a pay it forward kind of thing. I've prolly solicited at lease $1.15 this way, over the course of the last 4 years on transit. I'm savvy, I already ran my homeless/crazy/creeper radar over him before approaching the stop and the risk meter ran quite low. So I gave him just a quarter and just a little conversation. But I didn't want to become involved much more than that.

Mostly, because the conversation was good. My weakness here is that i didn't wanna deal with being disappointed. Talking to strangers and finding real good convo often ends rather disappointingly with a, "so I really need a dollar right now, look at that nice computer phone, you could spare it" ..." or a, "you got any weed??"

I listened as he told me that he'd been looking for work for 6 weeks, and had just interviewed at a steakhouse to wash dishes. I told him my fiancé was having a tough search too and that he was at an interview right now as well, in fact. At one point, he showed me his hands, every wrinkle was cracking. He'd been a printer, and like any journeyman, stopped using gloves after awhile, cuz well, im thinking there's always a time when were all in so deep and we think 'eh, fuck it'. I looked at him and remembered when I worked at the Press-Telegram. I looked at his eyes and saw the printing presses, just as I saw them peering through the glass. In the basement, still there, still oiled. Unused for the last decade or so, the printing had been outsourced. That scene where you peer beyond glass and see some of your own reflection too. He thought I was a nurse because I suggested olive oil in a glove soaked overnight. I always feel like solutions should be kept simple. 

I boarded the bus less than thirty seconds later. Experienced that moment when you watch your fingers rub your bus money together in your hand and then wonder why that experience was put in your afternoon. Coin slot was broken. I could give 2 more quarters to that guy back at the bench? Then quickly thought about what songs I was going to get lost in for this long ride home. Then quickly realized that one side of my headphones had died. Shit. So sucky!

Thirty minutes later, Lonny calls with great wonderful comforting news that he'd had a great interview by a swank West LA boutique hotel. Inside, I celebrate. I look up from from my phone and things are just a little brighter. I still see the cracks in the hands that were just shown to me. 

This man ended up showing me his hands. 

720 3:43 bus, EB

I like things Extremely Loud & Amazingly Close

Just saw this movie, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I tried to read he book, but it was really abstract and not my style, so I put it down after page 100-200 or so. I have a fascination with 9/11. I used my brand new college T1 internet connection to do two things: find good live Shakira performances to download, lyrics to her songs so that I could sing along, and score through tens of dozens of pages of message threads by 9/11 families and friends.  


What's amazing to me is when you try to look at something and feel even a tenth of what people are going through. You think of one of their mornings, and maybe how hard it is to sleep, or go back to work, or even get directions right. You feel only the tenth cuz you don't know how to feel much more and it wasn't your dad or mom in the towers, but it feels so bad. Then the tenth is incredible. How does the heart even feel this? How? How do you act when you get the news and how do you act after ten years? Do you spin in circles or stare for hours or think about nothing and build shrines or pet the dog? I can't imagine loss sometimes. It makes me think how crazy life is, how it's going to be and that I'm only 30 and there will be much more of this.

Blogs are a lot of work. I have like 3 full blogs in my head, ready to go, but I need like a week to get to each of them, and then write them. I have a cute little new desk now, so that's gonna help with production. It's funny how it's all in the accessories. . . But anyways, to relieve the pressure, i am going to work on the art of getting out mini blogs entries, quickie writies, . . . Maybe I will copyright them as BlogBlasts. . . so here goes.

My brothers . . . In food (trucks), they trust.

One love!

Friends are great things.
Here's one of mine, in a tree.

Guess what Lonny and I did late saturday night???

Yes, this is the PG-13 version! Geez you pervs, why did you think of all that other gross stuff first?! Why didn't you initially think that maybe we did something wholesome, like climb a tall mountain or make kombucha from scratch?! Cuz your a dirrrty person, you are! For shame! And this is why you read my blog, hahaha! 


Anyhow, we went to a bass show on Sunset boulevard. It was fanTASTIC! But we thought it was going to end at 4am, but it ended at 2am, and we weren't ready for that! boo. 

Lonny and I walked Sunset, but found it very different than Hollywood boulevard. Empty, way dead. Too posh in some parts for our pleasures.

Also. Casually snuck into an apartment complex and put our feet in the pool. Ooooo, we're so bad!!! But these are the memorable moments, folks. We found ourselves just a few feet from historic Sunset boulevard, the legendary Chateau Marmont, the Comedy Store, and the House of Blues . . . in this 1970s dinky apartment complex with a pool in the middle, glowing, inviting, very still . . . The place was just as dead as the boulevard. I know it was 2:30am, but this is saturday night in West Hollywood. I just thought it was eerie. As if we'd gone back in time. The place did look right out of 1974. I figured they all paid about $1500 a month just for a crappy studio here, just to be on Sunset. 

This is no novella about West Hollywood debauchery and Lindsay Lohan's favorite nightclub hotspots and stumbling back to the car with a pimp cup. That night dancing with Lonny was magic. Both of us know that the other person contains mystery and danger. But. Love is being lost in whatever that other person is about. The best part is that weeks later, the glow from that pool remains. The pool that didn't belong to us, where we dared only to dip our toes.

 I just thought
Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart

But our friends are back
So let’s raise a toast

Tonight
We are young
So let’s set the world on fire
We can burn brighter than the sun

Carry me home tonight
Just carry me home tonight
Carry me home tonight
Just carry me home tonight

The world is on my side
I have no reason to run
So will someone come and carry me home tonight
The angels never arrived
But I can hear the choir
So will someone come and carry me home

Tonight
We are young
So let’s set the world on fire
We can BURN brighter than the sun

So if by the time the bar closes
And you feel like falling down
I’ll carry you home tonight


"We Are Young", Fun

        

I think I burnt this weekend?! Strange. Brown, browning. And browninger, haha! I haven't burnt since, mmm, childhood? Does this mean I'm getting older and things are changing. ugh.

Lonny rented 'Melancholia' by Lars von Trier. Beautiful and well-crafted. Performances are perfect. But just like 'Antichrist', it is not for the light of heart and strangely borders on hard to watch. I wanna punch Kirsten Dunst's character in the face, her depressive episodes are maddening to the core. Why is she given a pricey gorgeous wedding when they haven't even figured out her meds yet? The two films have also made me look at Charlotte Gainsbourg as nothing else but a total hysterical neurotic. I can't imagine her as anything happy, I've never seen her face with any kind of contentment, only furrowed eyebrows attached to a sickly skinny person who I only know from Lars von Trier movies . . . Alas, and even though - good weekend, great and memorable . . . and there is always Haagen Dazs banana split ice cream, panaderia sugared croissant thingies and saturday morning pancakes - now thinner and crispy!


Soooo . . . . here's some cool shit you won't believe . . . my stylish cousin being a magician . . .  http://vimeo.com/40976404

Annnnd, it looks like we've found Cody's worried look . . . Lonny is at a job interview which I think he's going to nail in a big way. I am happy for the kid, but Cody is beyond worried that he will no longer have Lonz to be home, unemployed and merry with. Well, I mean, this is my best interpretation to him constantly looking back at me a lot with this expression and then staring at the door. I've known Cody for a long time - it's either this, or he thinks Lonz is gonna come back with a cat. The possibility of either of those disasters is really irking him right now.

I feel like something is about to end and I think it's going to hurt in my little dog heart.