As you all know by now, I’m a single girl living in the metropolitan jungle of West Los Angeles. It’s technically just plain Los Angeles, 90049. But for us locals, it is known as Brentwood. I love that snobbery – really I do. I don’t ever have anything to be snobbery about. I’m about as unsnobbery as they come. But this little burg I live in is so very convenient, so adorable and so near the Pacific Ocean.
A block and a half away is a Starbucks, across the street from that coffee establishment is Tea Leaf and Coffee Bean, and across the street from that is Peet’s. Peet’s is my personal preference even though I get horrible heart burn when I order my nonfat vanilla latte. Their espresso could burn off my stomach lining in no time. So I just buy the espresso forte every four to six weeks and brew my own espresso in my old-fashion stove top espresso maker and add more soy so I won’t get heart burn so often. It kinda works.
The piece de resistance, there is a Whole Foods right across from Starbucks. – or as some people refer to it as “Whole Check.” Yes, it’s true. If I do a quick drop shop at Whole Foods, I pay double than if I get in the car and drive to Ralph’s. I buy certain things from Whole Foods, like my Women’s Blend vitamins, honey roasted hand pressed peanut butter (I’m thoroughly addicted) and homemade soup when I am in the mood and the salad bar when I’m desperate.
Actually, there are gradations of whole foods – from the highest grade to the lowest. My burg is the lowest. It has virtually nothing of the great fresh food of other Whole Foods. If I spend another ten minutes in the car, I could shop at the Whole Foods on 23rd in Santa Monica and get more fabulous cooked food than one would want in a lifetime. I have trouble making decisions at their array of fresh salads and delicious warm dishes. But alas, I never have time to go there except on Friday afternoons when I encounter the 23rd St. Whole Foods after teaching a tango lesson and having a Margarita at El Cholo with my student/friend. However, I’m usually a little looped from my one Margarita (light weight, I know) so it actually takes me longer to shop there.
So, it’s Ralph’s for me on Sunday where I forage for food down the sterile aisles and endure 50 degree temperatures in any season. I hate to shop, and shopping for one is just egregious. I just came back from Ralph’s for my week’s shopping and I’m in a foul mood. I buy the same stuff every week, too, so I am really not happy. I can’t help myself. It’s what I eat during the week out of habit that makes me a dull eater.
My “almost” step-daughter, Camille Garcia, was with me last week and eating and cooking was so much fun. I actually felt human and I actually tasted food. It was wildly exciting to have warm pasta. I can’t do it for myself. It’s too tedious, and when I get home from work, I’m blasted tired and unmotivated. Besides, it was so much fun watching “American Idol” with her that I am waiting in great anticipation for her to return the second week in May so we can watch the finals together. How high school is that? I’m telling you, I really don’t care if it is sophomoric, moronic or altogether insane, but my guilty pleasure is my guilty pleasure and you have your own.
This afternoon, I’m off on a fact-finding mission. I’ve been thinking about joining a theater group – oh, no! Joan is going back to theater, her chosen profession – but this is different. It’s not a acting company or a theater in the true sense of the word. It’s called The Jewish Women’s Theater. No, I didn’t convert to Judaism, although my whole family is Jewish except for one daughter in law and she thinks she is Jewish and Greyson, my 2 year old grandson goes to the Jewish Temple school in Las Vegas and she and my son were married by a female Rabbi. Okay, I’m Jewish because my mother was Jewish and I married a Jew and brought my sons up as Jewish. Now, that’s settled.
But the group is rather exceptional in terms of talent and energy. I bought a ticket on the request of my friend and fellow yoga teacher who belongs to the organization. There are a lot different kinds of performances from one woman shows to theater piece bits of plays, to singers and musicians. And they are always looking for actresses, directors, writers to help, to organize, to market. Sounds like a good venue for me. So I’m off to a temple in the Pacific Palisades on another adventure.
I love being sixty and being over it – except for the food part. I’m continuing the journey of self-discovery and transformation and it’s as good as it gets.
Next time: relationships and Alison Armstrong.