[095] Jacaranda!

Kim+Me.Robertson.041014I reconnected a couple of years ago with a friend from our high school days who now lives in Northern California’s Silicon Valley with her husband and two sons. Last August, Kim was shuttling her older son back down to USC for his sophomore year; she suggested we get together for lunch, which was really lovely. How do you catch up after so many years? Wine.

A few weeks ago, Kim telegraphed that she’d be down LA way again – this time with her younger son, who has a decision to make about his own collegiate future. So we had another chance to lunch and catch up and spend an unhurried afternoon together. From what I hear, it looks like they are going to be an All-SC family… which guarantees me a few more lunch dates with Kim. That makes me happy. The dogs too. Especially Bernardo – who is quite smitten with this girl! After our lunch (at Lemonade on Beverly), we wandered around, visiting and window-shopping. Some kid was taking snapshots of his supermodel girlfriend near the Ivy on Robertson, and he was kind enough to take ours. We tried to be adult and respectable, we really did. (We failed.)

jac and pineAnother wonderful thing happened yesterday. As we were driving to lunch, I spotted my first blooming jacaranda tree of the season. Spring is really here when the jacarandas burst into blue-lavender-purple fireworks. It starts slowly, with the telltale purple haze here and there. And then, ka-BOOM! They seem to be everywhere. But especially in West Hollywood and Beverly Hills. They are native to South America and elsewhere in the Southern Hemisphere, but were brought to Los Angeles a century ago by Katherine Olivia Sessions, the landscape architect for Balboa Park in San Diego. Thank you, Ms Sessions! jac.telephonepole

These aren’t terribly good photographs of the jacarandas in my neighborhood, where they mingle with palms and pines. The sun was too high and the colors are washed out. But I’ll get better at it. As long as we don’t have a freak rainstorm, these blooms last for a couple of months. (They bloom again in the fall, but the big show tends to be in spring.)

And here are a few more snaps of local flora from my travels today. Enjoy!

yellow whatsit

I don’t know the proper name for this gorgeous yellow flower,
so I’ll just call it gorgeous yellow flower.


The ruby-reddest bougainvillea I’ve ever seen.


I love the way the new growth on this silvery-green olive tree reaches for the sky.

in the tall grass

They’re just clumps of tall grasses planted at the edge of a park…
but there’s such exuberance – even without all the flower power.

To old friends and new seasons.

Day 095 #100happydays


The End (so far)



[085] Bubbles + Bella

What’s not to love about this?


Friendship. Even better than a ball.

Day 085 #100happydays

[079] Relentlessly Awesome



Old friends in town for a few days…

starts with terrific Vietnamese at Phonomenal in West Hollywood…

post-dinner stroll along Santa Monica Blvd…

finding the t-shirt that captures the moment – and Jim.

(– and Mario, not pictured.)





What are friends pho? (sorry)

Day 079 #100happydays


[033] Soul Food


100 miles to the east of Los Angeles is the desert playground of Palm Springs. The two-hour drive can take three hours, or four hours. But the tension evaporates into thin air as soon as you’re through the mountain pass that separates the valley from the rest of the world.


So thanks to Hal & Paula for the warm and wonderful hospitality (wining, dining, Koffi-ing and grapefruit!)… and to Christina for a long overdue lunch… for having survived so much, so beautifully… and for giving me some much needed inspiration: that we old dogs can learn (ahem) new tricks. And to Joel, who forgave me as I zoomed past without time to stop on my way back to LA this afternoon.

Friendship is food for the soul.
Day 033 #100happydays

P.S. There were some cool clouds in the desert sky, too.


[002] Old Friends

Catching up with old friends.

Thom + Bridge @ Taste

Thom + Bridge @ Taste

Here’s my partner Thom with our friend Bridge – whose Christian name is Brian, even though he’s 25% Jewish. And who has time for proper names? (It is an admittedly lousy photograph, from a technical perspective. I was balancing a 2nd martini in my other hand. So fuck off.)

Bridge lives in the Sonoma wine country with his husband Michael and their two Catalan sheep dogs, Izzy and Geli. He commutes to his show biz job in LA, and we don’t get to see him often enough. But when we do, we laugh till we cry (– and unless your name is Connie, you really have nothing to worry about). Once upon a time (circa 1990) I rented a house at the tippy top of Cumberland Street in San Francisco with my friends Liz and Ray. Brian and Michael were our across-the-street neighbors – and so much wonderful has flowed from that random collision.

Life, she is like that, non? You turn left instead of right, find your way onto a dead end street with a “FOR RENT” sign on a house with killer views of San Francisco. And 20-something years later, none of us is where s/he used to be, but we find our way back to each other like salmon swimming up a river of vodka. And it feels like home, all over again. (Liz, we’re so overdue.)

An impromptu dinner with an old friend. Day 002 of #100happydays.