So, as our trip comes to end and I take in and process all we saw and did, I can't help but think one thing: I miss my kids.
Some might add me to their worse moms in the world list, but I NEVER miss my kids.
Most of the time, when I'm away from the kids, I catch myself thinking, ''Wait, I feel like I'm forgetting something....oh, maybe I should call in and check on the kids''....after roughly three days of pure reckless debauchery.
Out of sight, out of mind.
That's why I am flabbergasted that I actually miss them.
What the hell is going on?
Well, I think what's going on is that the city of Los Angeles, in only 4 days, has managed to wear my ass out.
Traffic, parties and a 7 hour (touch base, then back) bizarre but very entertaining trip to Santa Barbara (with Krewe de Stafford) drove me into a somewhat dark place where shitty diapers and dramatic tantrums seemed somehow calming to me.
And then there were the Grammy's...or the Shmammy's, as Kathy Griffin called the UN-televised afternoon Grammy celebration where awards are given to all the artists who are not part of the handful of blinged-out, decked-out, sometimes take themselves too seriously, celebrities.
Now, don't get me wrong, I really did have a great time and felt really privileged to be able to witness such a production....BUT, that's all it was to me...a production. I wasn’t moved. . .and I tried really really hard.
I mean come on John Mayer, really? If you're going to cover one of Dolly Parton's best songs ever, learn the damn words instead of staring sheepishly at the tele-prompter . Even I could have belted Jolene with more heart than that.
And the beloved Lady Gaga...who obviously has been listening to a lot of Madonna lately. Come on.
It was just very bizarre for me to watch this glorified, SMALL, elite group of ''musicians'' and ''artists'' (I'm putting quotations since there would be room for debate with some of these people) being celebrated, up against each-other in every category....when 90% of the genius, very deserving nominees, the foundation of the music industry, will never have their faces plastered on a TV screen.
|My fab husband and I at the Grammy after party.|
More glitz than substance.
That being said, I too suffer from major Bieber fever and I shrieked with excitement when some of the cast of Glee walked by.
I'm lame, a total geek....and a total hypocrite. (At least I'm aware of it)
I do want to add that, even though I wasn’t necessarily moved, I thoroughly enjoyed Bob Dylan's raspy, pleasantly odd performance of Maggie's Farm, Usher's exquisite dancing and Mick Jagger's energetic, swaggering tribute to the late, great Solomon Burke.
Also, a big shout out to Bruno Mars!
So anyway, my first encounter with the city of LA was both energizing and exhausting...does that make sense?
This hopeful city, jam packed with aspiring actors, writers, musicians, artists, who are all in the ''meantime'', trying to make it up the ladder, to the front seats, is in a sense inspiring.
Yet, I'm perfectly content to head back to my ''simple'', unglamorous life, filling sippy cups and changing wet beds where I, myself, am the publicist, manager and stylist.
|The always lovely Kara Guarisco and I at the Shmammy's:-)|
|Mister DL Menard. Cha!!|
P.S Y'ALL....That black dress I'm wearing was designed and sewn by yours truly:-)