I was having a rough week. My friends decided I needed a break.
Liz took me wig-shopping. I talked to my brother, that always makes me feel better. And two of my favorite people took me away from downtown Los Angeles to Naz 8 in Artesia to see my favorite Indian film set in the 16th Century, Mughal-E-Azam. Although the film is available on DVD in the 85% black and white, 15% color version, I've only seen the version showing in theaters - the fully-colorized, restored, and re-edited version.
Ping couldn't make it, she was reading about wine for work. Bollywood Film Expert had seen the film countless times and this was the first-ever viewing for Craig. We were the only three in the theater, which is a crying shame, but we took full advantage of it. There is so much eye candy in this film, I was glad for the chance to see it again. Whatever we missed, Film Expert explained to us in mostly reverential tones. Sometimes he screamed his film commentary, but mostly it was a great screening and simultaneous film lecture. Since we were the only three people in the theater, we didn't bother to switch our cell phones to vibrate. Film Expert took calls during the film, but he didn't skip a beat. He explained to some callers where we were in the film, or they got commentary on what Craig's or my reaction was to a scene. We dissected more during the intermission, and so it went on for the last part of the film.
We ended the night at Guppy's New Corner Teahouse in Cerritos. At first we were oohing and aahing at the foot-tall shaved ice, dripping with fruit and sweetened condensed cream, encasing ice cream and topped with whipped cream, but coming down from a sugar high on the 91 Freeway at 2am would be bad, so none of us indulged. We didn't even have boba. I had the usual spicy dumplings and mixed fruit tea, and pointed out other favorites to the other two. This was the first-Asian-teahouse-in-Los Angeles experience for both of them and they were lapping it up. There was a lot to look at besides the art on the walls, the exotic fish in the aquariums scattered throughout the space, and the insane desserts being carried past us. It was a large and very attractive crowd (and when I say attractive I mean hot), dressed for a good time on a Saturday night, never mind that it was 2am Thursday morning. But damn there were a lot of hot Asian chicks in the room. Good times. Despite all the distractions my friends were throwing my way, my head was still full of the bad week I was having. I slept maybe three hours that night - a knotted-up, jaw-clenching, tense ball of worrisome sleep.
Thursday was the Downtown Art Walk. I try to visit more galleries than the previous month's artwalk, but fell short this month. It might have something to do with the dozen champagne cocktails we drank at Banquette, not sure though. I didn't enjoy this artwalk as much as past artwalks, but I think it reflects more on the week taking its toll on me, and less on the artwork. We hit Cole's for a few more drinks, then to Rocket Pizza, my new favorite downtown eatery, then back to the penthouse to finish the rest of the vodka. We laughed and joked for the rest of the night and my good friends helped as much as they could, but it was another sleepless night.
Friday was chill. Film Expert came over and we screened Amarpali at the penthouse. I was tired and kept nodding off, but managed to wake up for the song and dance portions. Then when Film Expert left, I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Saturday was the annual Schmucklerfest at the Formosa Cafe. I RSVP'd for me +5 (I still don't understand why you gave me grief about that Brian), but more came and I was glad that old friends, new friends, and very good friends came out to play and were there for me this past week. Gabrielle of Single Shot and Jim from UglyTown showed up after some museum tour, CraigJasonHelenaVanessa showed up after TV Producer's birthday party, my astrologist showed up minutes before Adrienne and I pulled up, and both Andy and Bob were there to greet us. Somehow we separated and moved to different locations. I don't remember where my astrologer went or with who, but I remember yelling at him on the phone while shaking my groove thang on the dance floor, "We're at Akbar! Where are you?" Later, what the vodka couldn't drown was fed by a Monte Cristo at Brite-Spot. I don't know whether it was excess or exhaustion, but finally I conked out and slept soundly. Until the earthquake woke me.