Flotunda - Lo Fi *Not to Scale 2011

Here it is in all of its glory...

Big Screen Debut

Alright, maybe the title of this post is a slight exaggeration. But I can confirm that I will be in a TV commercial and on the website for Lavera skincare. Sometimes serendipidity swiftly swoops you up and I live for those moments. I have to give the background on this opportunity, because it registers in the "does this shit really happen to me?" category.

I have been in love with Lavera products since Tara McCauley introduced me to them over 6 years ago. When I became an esthetician, I vowed that I would someday work for this small, ethical and promising German company. To this day, I have been trying to get a job with them because as luck would have it, their US headquarters is in Kirkland. To no avail, I have pursued employment and gotten absolutely no HR love.

Okay, fastforward to Thursday before Memorial Day weekend '09. Those who know me would tell you that I screen my calls religiously. I was at work and I see a call come in from an unrecognizable number. Without hesistation I answer it and on the other end of the line is the charismatic voice of Deb Narine, producer for Spy Girls Productions. She goes on to tell me that she is shooting a commercial for Lavera and that a testimonial I had written on the Lavera website had caught her attention. She asked me to come down and do a screen test/audition. I could honestly not believe it, but I agreed to go along with it just for adventure's sake. So, I go down to their production offices and get buzzed in. After giving them my vital stats, they pull me in front of the camera and ask me to start talking about Lavera. Let's face it, I like to pose for pictures. But getting filmed is an entirely different scenario. I am deathly afraid of public speaking and have unbearable stage fright. Somehow, I was able to pull it together enough to not entirely flub it or embarass myself but I was certain that my film career would end right there in the production office.

By the time the weekend was over, I had kind of forgotten about it. As I'm strolling through Blockbuster Video on Tuesday night, I get a call from Deb Narine telling me that the client has chosen me to be a part of the commercial and that the director would be in touch to make arrangements for the shoot. Two days later, I show up to this awkward warehouse building in Georgetown with my three outfit selections and my Rescue Remedy. The whole thing was so much fun and it was eye-opening to see how something like this comes together. After I was done in hair and makeup, I started as a stand-in for a light meter reading. After signing several waivers, I finally got in front of the cameras. I jumbled a couple lines and had to start over, but other than that the hardest part of the whole thing was getting my hair to behave on HD camera. So, I walked out of there with $1,000 in product, $100 for my time and a bit of the stagefright chip on my shoulder shockingly disarmed.

I will get a copy of the commercial after it airs and it is set to test in California and then if it is received well, will air nationally. This is the first thing that I had "won" since I got first prize in a coloring contest for a bagel company in first grade. Back then it was a year's worth of free bagels. Now, I'm all grown up with my anti-ageing skin products. Summer sun...bring it! I have every sunscreen need met!! Thanks to everyone who propped me up and made me feel like a million bucks! As I had to say on camera..."I feel beautiful. And I deserve it."

New Treatment Room

I am very excited to be in my new treatment space in Fauntleroy. Housed in a private residence that overlooks the Sound and the ferry terminal, I find myself really sinking in and loving it! This photo were taken with my phone, but I am up and running and wanted to share it with my friends!

The Brighton Port Authority

Will David Byrne ever be uncool? Everything he touches turns to gold.

Lava Ladies

Party Crasher
A Roman Volcano Prom Erupts
by Jeff Kirby

"Prompeii" isn't just a party, it's an extravaganza. There are hundreds of people in beautiful costumes mingling inside a meticulously decorated club in the heart of Belltown. The theme is pretty loose, so the costume genres are somewhat eccentric: Mostly, the outfits are ancient-Roman themed, but there's also some Greek mythology, Lord of the Rings, and "gay" speckled throughout the crowd.

"Mount Vesuvius" is set to erupt. In the back of the club there's a large black cloth volcano surrounded by cardboard houses. For snacks there are bizarre but cute tater-tot mountains with blue flames shooting out the top. The "Catastrophe Cooler," which contains ginger-infused vodka that has been soaking for six weeks, is the drink special. The bartender lets people know that even though it doesn't taste very strong, it has been specifically engineered to fuck people up. The drinks sell out quickly.

At 11:11 p.m. the room begins to fill with an unbelievably thick cloud of fake smoke. Confetti rains from the ceiling and "Eruption" by Van Halen is cranked over the speakers. There's a masking-tape perimeter around the volcano—no one is exactly sure what's going to come out of it or if they're safe standing in the front row. Thankfully, it's not a giant mound of vinegar and baking soda inside: Three women in red dresses emerge and begin to trash the city of Pompeii. Everyone stands still, transfixed, as the lava women smash the shit out of the cardboard boxes, until one of them screams, "Start dancing!" and out of the flames and destruction a party is born. JEFF KIRBY

Crush it.

Not only has this phrase become a household staple, I have also taken a shine to crushing things...literally. Here I am with the illustrious and immensely talented "hot ashes" reigning our doom on the civilization of Pompeii. This performance piece came complete with smoke machines and the three of us jumping forth from folds of vinyl Vesuvius. Set to Ladytron's "Destroy Everything You Touch", we brought in the heat. And then flashed everyone. I have a bruise on my foot to prove the ferocity that was the hot ashes. Stick it.

http://flickr.com/photos/espressobuzz/2728987957/in/set-72157606522725996/

Sorry, folks. I didn't take the picture and it is copyrighted. Take the extra step and view this link.

Circa 1988

I wish it were 1988. I would be rockin' the inflatable neon recliner, drinkin' diet pepsi and getting nicely bronzed just like I am here...in 2008. Things, they stay the same. I could have totally used some bright pink zinc oxide sunstick this weekend. And a hypercolor t-shirt. I love Priest Lake. It is so choice.

Voice from yonder

So, many of you are asking why I have not blogged in many moons. The answer, my friends, is that I have been swamped with work at both Helle and at Youngstown. My sugaring services are in high demand these days. I actually got blisters on the top of my hand from taking my gloves on and off so many times in one day. Battle wounds. I wanted to share some reviews that I receievd on Yelp and also a feature in Daily Candy.

4 star rating 07/18/2008
Those who know me in passing might say I'm a masochist.

Those who know me very well might have evidence of such tendencies.

That said, brow waxing is not my bag. Ingrown hairs and burns to the face are never-ever-EVER things which I would describe as being fun, or sexy, or interesting, or anything else which might make you want to jump up do it.

Enter Helle's sugaring treatments. No icky residue, no pimples, no angry red stripes - just fantastic arch definition and less yeti-faced questionability. Laura's got a gentle touch, which I truly appreciate when people are working near my eyeballs, and she seems like a sweet gal to boot.

It was so much more relaxing and so much less painful than waxing, I almost fell asleep right there on the recliner. (Seriously. I almost felt kinda bad, but I was told it happens more than might think.) You, too, may achieve these transcendental states of relaxation while still keeping up with your beauty regimen - even if you don't consider improving your pain tolerance a sport.

5 star rating 07/03/2008
Dude. OMG. Wow. Danielle has brought in another esthetician to help accomodate Helle's ever-increasing client base, and Laura is amazing! She guided me through my first sugaring experience with a great attitude and humor AND she's cute to boot! Consider me converted - I already made my next sugaring appointment with her.
(don't worry kids, my face still belongs to Danielle. No really. I sold it to her in exchange for some snake oil - see below.)

Also - Helle is now open 7 days a week and they do massage!

P.S. Two words: Snake Oil. Danielle has managed to create a miracle in a bottle. Within one week at least 3 people I know are addicted to it.

Here's the Daily Candy feature. Serendipitously and unknowingly I was mentioned in tandem with Dina Innominato's Nia class that I do check-in for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Visit Dina's amazing new blog at http://www.bodyfullness.com. I have mad love for this woman, even though she busts my chops sometimes.




Impure Thought
Come clean at a place that doesn’t judge: Georgetown’s Helle Spa (5701c Airport Way South; 206-767-0803). The Your Body Is a Temple detox treatment is a lymphatic dry brush, custom sea salt scrub, bentonite clay wrap, and an aromatic oils finish — to a punk rock serenade.

Exercise Your Demons
A blend of yoga, martial arts, and dance, Dina Innominato’s Nia classes at Dance Underground (340 15th Avenue East) fill up as quickly as you can slip off your shoes. Get in touch with your limbs and find inner grace moving to the beat of your own drum.

I also got to spend some glorious time down at Cannon Beach recently with my dear friend and domestic partner, Tara McCauley. We, along with our hound dogs, stayed right across from the beach. It was a weekend full of art-making. I made a sash for a friend's wedding dress and Tara and I collaborated on a painting for a friends wedding gift. What a lovely weekend it was indeed!




I am off to Priest Lake for the weekend! More pictures and tales of good times to come!

The sweater song ain't got nothin' on this...

Burst Mode

On my recent drive to PDX, I accidentally discovered the burst mode on my camera phone. It takes a rapid sequence of shots. I am seriously and shamelessly addicted.

The Sex and the City movie premier with my ladies is tonight. After all the hype, it is actually happening. I've heard good things. I am ready to see all of the fancy clothing. And shoes. Stay tuned.

I AM A NERD!

I have just returned from Los Angeles after my 2-day sugaring training. It has come to my attention that I have never posted any photos of Helle and all my friends (save for the ones who have visited me there) have ever seen it either. So, here are some photo updates. There is one of the lobby area and one of the treatment room.

LA cracks me up. There is no other place like it. Where else can you get an In-N-Out burger "protein style"? Us South Beachers love that shit. And where can you get your pubes sugared into the shape of a martini glass and encrusted with pink Swarovski crystals? If it's equivalent to Samantha's pearl thong...no thanks. I'll go with the straight up coast-to-coast as they like to call it. No muss, no fuss. And no bling. Speaking of Sex and the City...t-minus 9 days until the movie premiers and I will flock with all my girlfriends to see that sucker on opening night.

I also was introduced to TED. Leave it to a bunch of brainy programmers who sit around and try to come up with the next best idea to get me hooked on "TED Talks". TED is an annual conference that only costs $6,000 to attend. That's if your application is accepted. But there is really no better place to be inspired by the capacity of humans. Take a taste test for yourself. I think all my friends and family will find something that tickles your fancies. Here are two of my favorites:

Pour some sugar on me

So folks, I will be heading down to LA in a couple weeks to get certified in sugaring as a method of hair removal. I can report after having a brazilian via sugaring that it is highly prefereable to wax. Less painful. No risk of cross contamination. Less risk of ingrown hairs. Little to no skin trauma. And it leaves you clean as a whistle. In short, it rules!

Cat in Aktion

My fondness for cats continues to grow every day. Creature, the OG of all cats, has returned to his normal self of late. He has been whacking the dogs on their noses, meowing at walls, acting all self-righteous and entitled. Tara and I could really tell that he had been feeling sick for a while because when he started regaining his health, he was up to his usual antics. My favorite is when he screams at me for food at 6am. The other day he jumped up behind me on the chair as I was at the computer and started clawing my back. I'm not a hater. I got nothin' but love for this cat.

In other cat news, I came across this cool project.

http://www.katz23.de/

I love the shots taken by the Fritz the cat. Here's a little short film to show you how it's done...

A little country. A little rock and roll.

If only I could fly to Glasgow to see these guys play with Iron and Wine. Yum.
Check out this video: Bon Iver "The Wolves (Act I and II)"



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We Are All In This Together (thanks Ben Lee)

My plans to go to the Greek New Year celebration came to a screeching halt when my friend Kristi called me and asked me when we should meet at my house to go to the show. I wracked my brain and was drawing a blank. What show? Aha! The Ben Folds show that I committed to going to weeks prior and that had completely slipped off my radar.

We hightailed it down towards the Tacoma aroma, as the show was being held at University of Puget Sound. On our drive, we speculated what the crowd would be like. I postulated that it would be about 30% college kids who had never heard of Ben Folds and 70% burnout 30-something fans (I am including myself in this category). It was quite the inverse actually. We were ushered into the Field House and gazed upon the throngs of freshman happily jumping around to the bubble gum tunes of Ben Lee.

If I were a field-worker reporting on the social patterns of post-adolescent college students these would be my findings:

Yes, that right folks. People in college are still listening to Snoop Dogg at parties. They still are wearing birkenstocks. They still are assuming the vertical spooning position at shows whereby the male stands behind the female and wraps his arms around her waist protectively, coyly resting his chin on the top of her head. They still are sneaking illegal substances in backpacks. And they still are listening to and loving Ben Folds. Seems like not a day had gone by since the radio release of "Brick".

This experience came complete with an akward ex-boyfriend siting a la Kristi and one surprise musical guest, Moby. Wait. Moby, at UPS? What is wrong with this picture?

Apart from the supreme giddiness of the music, I was lifted by the teen spirit and at once felt like I had traveled back through time to my "glory days".

Recollections

Remember the days when I had long hair? I miss those days.
So, it has come to my attention that some of my friends are disappointed that I didn't blog about my fabulous trip to Mt. Bachelor and it's environs. HUGE OVERSIGHT. I apologize.

Oh, Mt. Bachelor let me count the ways I love thee. You gave me thigh-high fresh powder, glistening sunshiney days, glorious untracked terrain. I got so caught up in you that I literally needed a shovel to dig myself out. I never have known a mountain like you and I love that you are a challenge to me. I wish you were not so distant and difficult to reach. But you have set the bar for my future relationships with other mountains. I have no regrets.

Thank you to all my peeps in tow: Andreas, Joshua, Damon, Brent, Dustin, Briar, Abe and mostly to the Rinz for organizing this getaway.

And yes, I refuse to use the word "epic" in this text. In fact, I am boycotting that word.

My re-entry into America has been a fairly rocky one. One death of a friend, one unplanned pregnancy, one favorite cat who almost died while I was away...for starters. Maybe it's me being escapist but can I crawl back under the South American rock from whence I came?

Livin' La Vida de Buenos Aires

Not to be direly anticlimactic but today marks the last day of my trip. I have just returned from Buenos Aires after an overwhelmingly short stay there. Just a forewarning…this entry may error on the side of being long-winded. If you don’t like it…you can “suck it” as Sarah Rinzler so aptly says.

We arrived in BA on a Wednesday night and proceeded to catch a cab from the airport to the city center. There was a very peculiar odor in the air…smelled like a giant forest fire and Smokey the Bear. Everyone we asked pleaded ignorance. They would say to us…that’s how it usually smells. Our cab driver almost collided with the gate at the toll booth. I about shat my pants. The drivers here…are, uh, aggressive to put it nicely.

We had made plans to stay at Shannon’s friend Paul’s place and he told us beforehand to bring our sleeping bags. So we did. We arrived at his place on Valentin Gomez at about 11:30PM. We rang the buzzer. No answer. Rang it again. No answer. A kindly man came along and made gesture to enter the building and Shannon told him that we were trying to get a hold of the white guy who lives here in Apt.6. He skeptically let us in and we went upstairs with him. We knocked on Paul’s door. No answer. Meanwhile, I had dropped my bag in the garbage-staging area and was sitting on it. The guy who let us in came out from his apartment with his little beagle. He looked at us with increased skepticism but also with sorrow. We must have been the most desperate looking ladies. So, here Shannon goes making friends again and before we knew it we were in their apartment having coffee with complete strangers. Their names were Carlos and Maria Carmen and they had two teenage daughters who were plucking away at their instant messenger the whole time we were there. They were so kind and excited to tell us all about BA. Paul finally arrived and apologized as he thought we were set to arrive much later.

Paul is entirely lovable but about as quirky as they come. He is a Brit ex-pat who teaches English all over South America. His place is very old but also very nice. Since he had only been there a month, he had acquired no furniture. Hence, Shannon and I rolled out our sleeping bags and slept on the wood floor. The whole time I was there I think I averaged about 3 hours of sleep a night. The urban camping was still amusing though. Even in my final zombie state I had no qualms about sleeping on the floor because I loved the city that much that I wanted to stay there indefinitely. Sleeping on a wood floor.

We were extremely pleased to find that we had coasted into town at the very start of the BA Int’l Film Festival called “BAFICIL”. As all of us are lovers of indie cinema, we elected to see an American documentery called “The Reinactors”. I HIGHLY recommend it. Especially if you want to see Superman smokin’ the grass. I loved the Q&A with the director following the film. He had a personality that I imagine as a cross between Ben Exworthy and Quentin Tarantino. We laughed our hineys off.

Okay. I am getting off the narrative train because I will never finish this entry if I don’t. Here is a list of either places that I went or experiences that I had in no particular order of chronology or importance. If you are so inclined, you can ask me about them individually and I will tell you. With vehement joy and love for this beautiful city.

Palermo Viejo
Mercado de las Pulgas
Hammer pants
McDonald’s Kosher
Soap on a stick
Estilo de Buenos Aires
Clowns
Surfin’ the Subte
San Telmo
Bar Living
80’s MTV Videos
Pirate Bar
“La Bomba Laura”
Tigre (the river delta, not the band)
Recoleta
Freddy Krueger
Bombillos
Mausoleum filled with cats
Street performers
6AM
Lollo
“Zhuzching”
Octavio Caesar
No Monedas

The list, the list. I could go on. There are many discoveries and/or epiphanies I had on my trip to BA, some of which are: #1:Someone needs to make a reality series called “Ricky Martin’s Gay Vacation”. #2: I need to start a blog where I capture and make commentary on the styles of international cities. #3: Shoe shopping is the new treasure hunting. #4: when I return to Seattle, I want to learn how to speak Spanish. Not Spanglish or a collection of idioms, but SPANISH. #5: I want to learn how to sail. Being on the water is where I feel most at home.

Last night after I had recovered from my sleep deprivation, we went to eat in a neighborhood of Santiago that is on the backside of Santa Lucia. It was the best food I have had since I arrived. In the midst of eating, I scurried after a father/son drummer duo to shoot a film. Hopefully, I can get some of these films up on YouTube. Here you go.




Don’t cry for me Argentina. I will come back to you someday. In the meantime, Mama I’m comin’ home.

Many thanks to Shannon, Amy, Patrice, Maria Paz, the concierge at Costa de Lyon, Mario & Friends, Paul, Mauricio (for his fly dance moves), to my co-workers for holdin’ down the fort during my absence and to Tara and Joshua for tag-teaming the care and maintenance of my grey sassy old lady of a dog, Willow.

Besos Y abrazos,

LB

Progress

As I was lolligagging around Providencia yesterday, Shannon called me on my hand-me-down cell phone and told me that they needed my help at work. They are in the process of recording instructional DVD'S to help non-english speaking teachers teach english. Shannon asked me to come down because they needed another native english speaker to record their voice on a DVD. The only problem was the voice was that of a 10 yr. old. Naomes...your voiceover work inspired me and I jumped on the metro and made my way over to Universidad de Sant Tomas. I was fetched by someone and taken down into the depths of the building. There I sat around a table with Shannon, Patchy and friends and read lines from a script.

After work, Paichy and Shannon took me to do my first touristy thing. We went through La Moneda where the Chilean president, Michelle Bachelet, resides. They are very serious there. In fact for all the partying Chileans do, they have an impressively austere infrastructure. A distinctly female presence is felt within the Moneda and many of the security guards are females. And their uniforms are HOT. I, of course, got in trouble for putting my hand in the fountain. You can't take me anywhere without getting in a little trouble. This picture of me and Shannon definitely is indicative of my mood, however. I am not even joking when I say that I have a rash on my face from people kissing me on the cheeks when they meet me. Just a little contact dermatitis is all. But it itches like crazy and I yearn for all my dermatological goodies back home.

Today we leave at 7:30 PM for Buenos Aires and from the way people make it sound, we are in for a rockin' good time.

Valpo

Before I left for Valpo, I was watching some Chilean hipsters film a music video by the pool. There was actually a guy wearing a purple scrunchy. Apparently Chile did not receive the memo that scrunchies are no longer acceptable coiffure attire. The youth culture here cracks me up. They have a whole group of kids called "pokemonos" that are probably much like you would imagine them. Colorful, androgyneous and a little provocative. They like to hang out in the park and make out with each other. In fact, Chileans are no strangers to public displays of affection. On the subway, in the elevator, in the restaurants...people here like to make sure that everyone knows who their girlfriend/boyfriend is. Also, as many of my friends know I am a HUGE advocate for the fanny pack. They are very popular and prolific here. I have yet to buy one, but it might be a good investment seeing as petty crime is about as common as palta (avocados) here. We got to Valpo in the evening and picked up some wine and I also bought a 40 oz. of "Becker" cerveza. We were all starving so Shannon (who studied here in college) took me to the most famous restaurant to get "chorillana" which is a typical Chilean dish. For starters, Jota Cruz takes kitsch to an entirely different level. Everyone leaves notes, pictures, knick knacks and what-have-yous all over the restaurant. They serve the chorillana on one big dish and you eat it family style. It is a plate of the most delicious french fries topped with eggs, onions, cheese and meat. It is similar to moco loco but perhaps the best hangover cure I have yet to come across. We made the trek up about 1000 stairs to get to Mario's for the asado (BBQ).
In Valparaiso, the city sits on steep hills and the streets are all cobblestone. It is a very famous destination for New Year's where they set off a massive display of fireworks. It is like any port town, but some of the architecure is beautiful. The people that live here are referred to as "portenos" because of their residence in a port city. Notoriously, they have beautiful legs from all the hills, steps and maneuvering they have to do to get home or anywhere else for that matter. This city is also full of stray dogs which I have to fight the urge to want to cuddle with. The asado started late and included as much meat as any one person could eat in a sitting. I think that being surrounded by Chileans has been good for my Spanish. I learned two phrases while in Valpo that I will never forget. The first one is "saca la chucha" which means to fall on your ass which is quite possible considering the dangerous combination of terrain and number of piscolas consumed. My other favorite phrase is "mete la pata" which is to stick your foot in your mouth. We capped the night off at a nearby hostel that is owned by a friend of Mario's where we had a dance party to kick-ass oldies like "Kung Fu Fighting". The night ended at about 4am which by Chilean standards is early. The next day, Mario took us around the city. We rode the ascensors (elevators) and went down to the Pier where Patrick (a gringo from Colorado) had his backpack stolen as we were having some beers. It was the most inconspicuous lift I have ever seen. In fact, I never even saw the kid come up to the table. This is the second time in 2 weeks that this poor guy has been robbed. We headed back to Santiago around 8pm and today I had lunch at a delicious vegetarian restaurant with Amy (who leaves in t-minus 1 hour). The next couple days are down time before our trip to Buenos Aires. I can't wait. Oye, huevon!

Adjustments

I have to admit, after two days of airplane travel I got a little overzealous yesterday and while diving into the pool I jacked up my neck. There's nothing like being in a foreign country and trying to find a medical professional to cure your ails. I knew in my heart that I just needed a good snap, crackle, pop to get me going again. I looked up chiropractic doctors online and was dismayed when I found none. Shannon hooked it up. It's all about connections here in Santiago apparently. We went one stop on the metro to see an American chiropractor who totally got me back on track. She's from Portland and we laughed about all the funny things about Chileans and she told me all about living here. Aside from the whole healing part, it was a educational experience, even for Shannon who looked on in awe. We spent the afternoon on the terrace, me high on valerian and Shannon trying to make plans for our social outting tonight. Me, Shannon and Amy (this awesome gringa that lives here and leaves on Sunday) drank beers and ate cheese. Now it's time to get fancy and go out to "Subterraneo", a hip hop club that is nearby. More on that one tomorrow...before I make my way to Valpo with Shannon and Maria Paz. Le quiero a todos! Ciao!