I KNOW! 2 IN A ROW!!?? RIGHT!? (Suck it naysayer dude.)
So- I’ve been obsessed with hiking lately. If you knew me- at all- you would re-read that sentence twice then check outside your window for the horsemen of the Apocalypse… I have openly and repeatedly expounded on the BANALITY and uselessness of hiking. As well as the irritating nature of those who participate in it… Well, I still feel that way, for the most part but… I’ve been known to be mildly misinformed upon occasion. (I also used to proclaim I only ran if someone was chasing me. Track back to marathon entry and all it’s glory.) Anyway- I’ve been obsessed because of my kids. I started reading about all these sections of L.A. with waterfalls and swimming holes and streams and got obsessed with hiking them all with the littles and having this very uncharacteristic, woodsy experience with them. So, I attempted one last week only to be beaten out by the neighbors pool and a playdate. So, today- after bootcamp, Max, Scout & I set out for Eaton Canyon and it’s waterfall. I researched the shortest route (thank God) and we went about it. First off- the trail was difficult- more so with Scout and her little, spazzy feet. Lots of stream bed crossings and slippery rocks which I ended up carrying her over. I noticed right away, A) That she’s a lot heavier than she looks and B) the true appeal that rock climbers zone in on. Nothing forces you to be as totally “in the moment” as searching for the next rock in a stream while holding a squirming 3 year old. It was actually Zen in a way. I got it. I also got wet feet, real early on. We made our way to a big outlet where the shade was nice and water calm & not too deep. Max took off his shirt and explored, Scout proceeded to pick up & throw every rock she could lift and I sat on a rock and joyously soaked them both in. This was it. The peace. The respite from $ problems, scheduling, work, Mom, minutia of life that I had been seeking. I had triumphed. I was RIGHT about THIS. WE DID IT. Nirvana.

It lasted about 23 minutes.

First decline; I left the lunches I had meticulously packed sitting in my fridge so we were forced to fight over an old bag of chips, scraping for chewy, stale crumbs at the bottom. Then we renewed our “quest for the big falls” over even trickier climbs & stream beds. At this point I’m pretty sure Scout was TRYING to land us ass up in the water. We trudged on for about 20 minutes then I hear the sound of the waterfall get drowned out. “What is that sound?” I stupidly asked Max. (Who offered, “Earthquake.” Calmly and instantly.) I look up and see a HUGE helicopter in the canyon above, slowly making it’s way closer.

‘Sweet Baby Jesus, don’t let them be coming for us’, I thought as I mentally reviewed the passing hikers who paused a little too long as I crossed each stream bed, cursing and flailing with Scout. Did they call in the feds on me, those granola fuckers. ‘Okay, look competant.’ Was my next thought. I stood straighter and held the kids hands and trudged a little faster. “See? We’re cool here. Nothing spastic or flailing or child endangering to see here.” Anyway, they get closer and I think, ‘Wow, that’s a big f-er. Wow, it’s pretty low. They are really LOOKING for something/one.’ I looked at Max who was staring up and raised my eyebrows, indicating “Pretty cool, huh?”. He nodded uncertainly.
Then it passed, thank God. Annnnddd…

You know, in old M.A.S.H. openings where they duck as they run out to the waiting chopper? And in your jaded little mind you think., “That’s for dramatic effect. It’s not gonna behead anyone. They’re ducking unnecessarily, by God”. (Your jaded inner voice sounds like a character in the Clue Game, BTW.) Anyway- I NOW understand the dramatic ducking. It’s not the propellers.

It’s the FUCKING WIND.

So this beast clears us and no sooner can I exhale my relief when the DUSTCLOUD OF STONES, DIRT, SAND AND TINY, SKIN-TORTURING NEEDLES hits us. Holy Crap. I grabbed both the kids and pulled their faces to my chest and tried my best to wrap myself around them. I could hear Scout yelling (probably in outrage) and Max shaking as I tried to make myself bigger somehow. It seemed like 5 minutes, was probably 10 seconds but CRAP it stung! “Well, JESUS, now I actually DO want an airlift, you rescuing a-holes. Thanks.” Anyway- I checked the kids. Shaken, wide eyed, stung a bit but otherwise okay. Max then proceeded to go into a recap of what just happened as Scout checked her band aid to see if the wind had disturbed it. As this goes on, some more hikers approach from the bend that would have led us to the falls. “Everything okay?” I ask in my best- “I’m one of you now!” voices. “No”, they reply. “Some guy fell about 30 feet and they’re trying to get him out now. You probably don’t want to go there.” Then he looks pointedly at the kids. I look at him and raise my eyebrows, indicating “Dead?”. “He’s okay- just not really… pretty.”

“Okay, kids, time to go.”

During our LLLOONNNGG hike back- (now we’re all like walking dirt cookies because we were wet when the chopper crop dusted us.) Max works himself into a “state”. This is where he’ll let his little mind whirl to “The Worst Case Scenario”, and then flip out. He starts crying and I have to sit him down and explain that “Everything Is Okay.” (We’ve done this before.) He was worried Scout & I would blow away. He was worried HE would blow away/choke/get sucked up. He’s freaked out about the “Guy that fell 30 stories” and so on. I manage to talk him down by reviewing realities. Accident. Help. Boo boo. Doctors. We’re fine- see? and “It was kind of exciting, huh?” He didn’t get on board with that one but DID calm down. Then- as we make our way back- more rocks, more spazzy, more wet and NOW Scout is decidedly “OVER IT”, Max decides it’s his personal duty to regale EVERY. PASSING. HIKER. with stories of the dangers that lie ahead. “Some guy fell 87 stories…”, “A man jumped 600 feet…” “This helicopter is trying to find a dead guy…” Annnd, my personal fave; “This guy fell off the waterfall. I think he’s exploded.” All with me in the background, still trudging, carrying the mewling Scout, muttering “Keep walking Max.” and “Don’t mind him…” Etc. Some rescuers walked past and were friendly and not panicked and this seemed to quell the Town Crier in him. Anyway- we made it back to the car- but not before I discovered I had dropped my camera somewhere – probably in a stream bed- with some AMAZING shots on it. EXCELLENT. The last 1/2 mile Scout was on my back and Max was sweating his little head off. We made it though and breathed a collective sigh of relief. I changed everyone into dry clothes, dispersed the last of the chewy chip crumbs and waited for the 8 firetrucks, ambulances and rescue vehicles to leave and unblock us. (The guy WAS okay, just banged up but distinctly unexploded.)

As I waited and the kids asked if we could hit McDonalds (“YES.”- zip it hippies- nothing distracts from near trauma better than a cow-face burger.) I checked my Blackberry that, in my “Hiking Zen” state, I had refused to look at. There were about 13 messages re; boot camp, (Not ONE of which were from Mr. Moneyguy who wants to franchise us worldwide.) 3 messages re; Mom, (She’s done with surgery, doing well but “confused”- no shit Sherlock- she thinks she’s a Cobb Salad- what’d you expect fresh out of anestesia???), they’re moving her to a rehab tomorrow and can I consent and the grand finale: a voicemail from my Oncologist, the Amazing Dr. Fischer:

“Hey Brooke, Sean Fischer here, hope you’re doing well. When you got a minute, give me a call. Just want to go over something from your labs, nothing serious, just wanna talk to you about it. Okay, talk to ya soon- bye.”

“Nothing serious.”

Of course, by now it was 5:30 and no one is in the office.

“Nothing serious”, isn’t really comforting when you’ve had Cancer. Nor is a McFlurry. Even the M&M one.

So- now I blog. Turns out Doug had his own drama filled day and neither of us were able to process until we got to talk to the other. We’re weird that way. I am trying not to think of it. I have fantasies that the “something from my labs” is a new, previously undiscovered – late blooming “Really Tall And Skinny” gene that’s just coming to surface… Could happen. In the end it was, actually, an awesome day. I will, in fact, hike again and the kids did have fun as it turns out- what’s better than a BIG STORY to a 7 year old and a chauffered “Mommy Ridee” through the mountains to a 3 year old?

As for tomorrow & what it brings- we’ll see. I’m hoping the fact that it’s Friday will work in my favor. (Here’s where I request a moment of “Good ju-ju” sent out on me & my lab’s behalf. Thanks.)

So, as I cleaned up three massive puddles of liquid dog crap off my son’s (thick) shag rug tonight, I couldn’t help but reflect on my life. (Strains of Sheila E’s “Glamourous Life” played in my head as I knelt there with EVERY cleaning product in my rubber gloved hands.) So- here’s how it stands today: We’re still in debt- lotta money owed to a lot of cranky credit cards who will, until something drastic happens, continue to get their “Fuck You Minimum” from us. Max is nearing the end of his Kindergarten year and has just announced he’d like to remain at this school. When we gently nudged him toward the PUBLIC (read free) school that he’s already registered at he replied, “The only reason I really wanted to go there was so I could have my hair different colors” (They’re not real punk rock fashion fans at Catholic School, turns out.) SIGH. It will be what it it. We went to the open house for new school last week and it was adorable. And, I don’t mean that in the condescending; “This is our lot in life so we’re gonna consider this poverty quaint” kind of way. Really, a nice school- great teachers, classrooms, programs and the parents… looked a lot like us. (As opposed to what?) Scout will be continuing at her preschool full-time. It’s funny, because we can’t really even afford it now, at part time… Hilarious. They are both… exceptional- and I think I would claim that even if they weren’t the fruit of my loins. Fruit or not… exceptional- so we trudge on. My hair has gone from the punk rock red bob to a clown orange- really short do. It’s great for the self esteem. Chock up the hairdo with the minivan, shit-covered gloves and workout wardrobe and I’m on top of the world. Doug is working his ever-loving ass off, as am I and the business continues to grow- albeit VERY HUMBLY. (Refer back to top sentence.) But… here we are. No, there’s a lot that could be “different”, some might even say better but guess what? I love my shit-stained, orange-haired, public-school bound life. LOVE. In between all the canine crap-fests and late fees- we have a lot of fun for poor folk. A LOT. Having said all that- I am faced with a dilemma- the same I’m sure 4 out of 5 families are facing these days;
“How DO you get liquid shit out of shag carpet?”
And: how can we give them MORE. Not ponies and private school “More”, more like, “Raging Waters and Jedi Training Camp” more. It’s a meagre More but it’s our quest. I can only continue with the business always pushing, always working and… FUCKING WRITE. The conclusion is: Doug will not have the acting career he deserves if left to the no-vision, ass-backward retards that give acting jobs in this town and I will not have the writing career I would like unless… I g-damn WRITE. I have been stalled for awhile. I think because I’ve been typing in desperation. Looking for that “quick sell” idea, that “thing” that they’re buying, the trend, the now and… it’s crap. It’s typing from a vacuum. (Why the hell is that spelled that way, anyway?! What’s with those two f-ing U’s???) ANYWAY- there is a solution. WRITE MY WAY OUT. There is a script that I wrote a few years back. I love parts of it and, with recent life changes that I want to add- in my head, it could be GREAT. Not, “Citizen Cane” great but- something we could actually DO and that we would actually LIKE if we rented it Great. I need to WRITE the bastard though. I just can’t seem to find the energy at the end of the day. It’s the 1st step though in this thing that we both NEED to do before the time passes us. But, it needs to start with THE WORDS. NO- we don’t have ANY $ to do it. NO, we don’t have any time to do it. NO- we have no idea how we’re gonna do it- we just mutually know that we NEED to. And that, my friends, starts with me. I suppose just starting here- calling myself out on it- could be a 1st step. Like telling your friends to punch you in the face if they see you smoking. (What? How did YOU quit?) So, if you see me and I still haven’t touched said “Saviour Script”, go ahead- haymaker to the kisser. No repercussions. (Except me falling down and crying a bit.)
So, yes- I do LOVE my Glamourous Life. I cherish it. In my mini van, with my f-ed up do, traveling 5 min. late to some other place on gas I can’t afford… I LOVE IT. And that is why I need to write… to honor it. To feed it. To buy something more effective on dog-shit stains.

I’m doing a TRIATHLON in 4 days…

Also, I am remembering that it was a year ago that I did the marathon… I ran (and hobbled) 26.2 MILES!!!

Sweet Baby Jesus that hurt.

Wondering what this latest insanity holds. Am trying to chill and just “HAVE FUN”.

(Not always an easy task when your natural, inbred inclination is always, “SWEEP THE LEG!”)

We’ll see.

Okay- so the prolonged absence wasn’t all my fault. Some jackass hijacked the site and it had warnings and restrictions all over it. We couldn’t even get in. THANK YOU to Lorenzo for fixing EVERYTHING. (Email me if you want an awesome, honest website guy, BTW) ANYWAY- here’s what I can recall, update wise: Have gotten back to the show & doing the blogtalk radio. Last weeks was especially successful and are getting downloaded like crazy. It’s rejuvenated us to actually PLAN our shows and guests. Whoda thought? GOOD.
Next: are DEFINITELY doing the public school thing and not looking back. I feel immense relief since deciding as well as a newfound, family empowerment. (Fueled by:” F.U. We are doing this ourselves so your OPINION means all of jack shit.”) GOOD.
Haven’t told Max about it and he REALLY likes his current school. BAD.
Max is being sucked in by the evil DSi. We have also gotten VERY lax with both of them and too much media. (T.V., movies, video games and computer games.) We are starting our crackdown this weekend. Keep you posted. BAD… then (hopefully) GOOD.
Got my feelings hurt by a dear friend. (Totally unbeknownst to her- who would NEVER even consider intentionally hurting me or anyone) BUT- since I can’t take it to her (it would do more HARM than GOOD) I get to sit with them… which I suck at. I’m good at purging, shouting, emoting and dumping… not “sitting with”… that blows. I just keep dealing and hoping that real “acceptance” lies right around the corner. BAD (?)
Have been training for the Triathlon Sprint (a shortened version of reg. triathlon) next weekend. GOOD. I SUCK at swimming. SUCK. BAD. I got one of my campers, who’s a “TRIATHELETE” and INSANE swimmer to give me some tips/help. She’s awesome. My form is pretty good I just CAN NOT BREATHE. Good to know one week away. Anyway- it’s only 3 laps in a dang pool. If I have to “Grandma Stroke” it, so be it. I just wanna finish. GOOD
We did taxes and found out that we DOUBLED our biz this year. GOOD. We also found out that, when you earn more, you have to pay more taxes. BAD. Oh well. We are still just plugging along- trying to figure out how to get out of debit.
My Mom is recuperating and using a walker but- new stuff comes up everyday. Mostly- she’s just deteriorated a lot mentally. I just saw a script invoice of hers and they switched her meds. will ask if this may be fallout. I remain, as always, detached and on auto-pilot.
Camps are going strong- I LOVE my clients, Doug is good (great) but not when he’s “in his head”, morose re; finances/our situation, kids are amazing and I am rocking some BRIGHT red punk rock hair. Mid-life crisis? WHO CARES.

Well, we’re sequestered in the house for the weekend. Scout has had a ROUGH week. Last Thursday was her 1st trip to the E.R for 3 stitches (she was running away from ME while playing and looking over her shoulder, as I shouted for her to “Look FORWARD”, she did, just in time to nail her forehead on the corner of our butcher block counter. Good Times.) She’s been a trooper but, 3 days ago, she got some weird bug and threw up. Has thrown up 2 more times since but- in between is THRILLED at the fact that she gets to drink Gatorade and Ginger Ale. Doug is working so I was faced with a Saturday of trying to keep her chill while not letting Max sink into the abyss that is his growing DSi video game addiction… Ended up rushing everyone on the front lawn this afternoon where I lost MISERABLY in a softball game against Max and our 9 year old neighbor. Scout cheered from her princess fort, on the sidelines. A Mayberry kind of day. Mama like.
In the meantime- Jenica & I did a stint on our dear (witty & bright) friend John’s Internet Radio show. It was a blast and it looks like John and Jay (another dear, witty & bright pal) are gonna help us get an ACTUAL SHOW up & running. See we did the 1st in one big chunk- hoping that all we had to do was get it up and the “Producers With Bags O’ Cash” would “Come Running”. Well…. no such luck… yet. Thing is- we love to gab. We LOVE doing it and we think we have a lot of (twisted) things to say on a lot of (twisted) things, including being Moms… We considered Podcasting but, as I was listening on the phone to one of my tech-y friends describe what’s involved I literally teared up, then got really sleepy and monosyllabic. Too complex. We’re Moms. Moms with careers and goals and lives and things to do- none of which involve learning to podcast. ANYWAY- John’s deal is all done himself – VIA PHONE and a ready made internet radio band that is “SIMPLE ENOUGH FOR US”- so says John, and he knows us pretty well. Sooo- I am excited about getting this site “active” again. (Besides the blog- let’s face it- I could be a LITTLE more consistent with that.) Will announce to the world when we’re ready to go. We do want to make this happen- bags o’ cash or no.
Also- on the home front- may actually be (KIND OF) in top of big bills lately. Paid off a couple of huge (for us) ones at the start of the year and seem to be rallying well. I am proud of us, as always. Am also entertaining a Disney Cruise for this summer’s vacation. I know. I have always stated openly & often that I am NOT the “Cruise Type” but- I got a look at one of their boats online (WATER SLIDES- EVERYWHERE and kid activities galore, which means Mama may get a massage or some “quality time” w/ Daddy… ) AND it’s kind of affordable… Even for us. So, Mr. Producer With Your Bag O’ Cash just waiting for that “Next Hot Item”- pick up the phone- we’re available… and motivated. (Hey Oprah- you and your Network can have a piece as well- we’re magnanimous that way…