Saturday, March 24, 2012

Old Towne Pub

I had a super birthday yesterday. Thanks for your good wishes here, in email and on Facebook. John and I took the day off. We had planned to go to Clocker's Corner for breakfast, however I'm not one to sit outside when it's even slightly cool, so we went to Old Town instead. We loved--I mean loved--the food at the Market on Holly, but oh, those ultra-hip stools! (Note to MoH: ultra can be hard on the hips.)

We caught this scene while strolling on Holly Street. At last I know the location of the Old Towne Pub. The place has a mystique about it and it's not easy to find. Even though the Old Towne Pub has a Fair Oaks Avenue address the entrance is actually down the alley next to Cafe Linda's on Holly (speaker warning: music on that link). Surely this alley has a name because all Old Town alleys have names, don't they? But I couldn't find said name on the map. Obscurity is part of the Old Towne Pub's charm. And, if I'm not mistaken, history is, too.

I believe there's been a drinking establishment hidden deep down this nameless alley since Old Town was plain old town, if you know what I mean. It's had more than one name over the years. I'm not a Pasadena old-timer; I've been here just over six years. Do you know the stories? Let's hear them.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Today

Today is mine. I get to have it.

Most days we pitch in, assist, participate, help out, work hard, share responsibilities. But today is not most days, and everyone deserves to have a day that is not most days.

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Promo

Last night, John, cast and crew shot a promo at our house for the We Make Movies Kickstarter effort.

When John and I had been married only a few months, we shot a short film at the house we were renting in Altadena. We swore we would never shoot in our own home again.

So anyway, last night's shoot gave make-up artist Kelsey Boutte a chance to try out ways to make actor Karen Zumsteg look dead. Our bathroom became the make-up trailer, which worked out fine except I had to go to the neighbors' to pee.

You'll have to see the movie to find out if, in full make-up and lighting, Karen really looks dead or not. When the promo's ready, I'll provide the link and you can see John, acting, in our own home. One day, when we have the big budgets, maybe we'll shoot at your house!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Dope

If you suffer from migraines, perhaps you take drugs not only to relieve the pain but to prevent the attacks as well, or at least diminish their frequency. And "suffer" is a relative term here. Everyone's migraine is different. Some people become nauseated and have to go to bed, some experience blind pain that drives them nearly to suicide.

I haven't had to endure a migraine's full wrath in quite a while because a medication called sumatriptan works for me. When I feel the thing begin its evil squeeze I take the pill and within an hour or two, I'm released.

I used to feel euphoric when the migraine lifted. Now I'm left with a kind of brainlessness. This is because I'm also taking a migraine preventer called a topiramate. It works. I was having 15 or 20 migraines a month and now I have about four. But topiramate has its drawbacks.

In some people, topiramate suppresses appetite. In some it causes paranoia or fainting, rapid breathing or blood clots. In me it causes sluggishness of body and mind. The worst thing is I have trouble remembering words. This would be no big deal if I were, say, a professional wrestler. Or maybe a neurologist.

I've told my neurologist how the topiramate makes me feel, how the word recall problem makes it hard to, um, you know, write words. He suggests I try different doses. He suggests I take it at different times of the day. He adamantly insists I quit drinking coffee. I tried that for an anguished six months, during which I was more sluggish than ever and had more migraines than ever. If I didn't drink coffee John would have to do all the laundry and grocery shopping and dog walking and that's not fair. I'd be a hazard on the roads. Hell, I'd be a hazard in my own house.

John suggested I get a second opinion. Duh! (If I wasn't taking this drug would I have thought of that myself?) He also suggested I research migraine preventers on my own. The first place I looked listed seven--SEVEN--alternatives to topiramate. I haven't had a chance to research them yet. Maybe they have side effects, like paranoia or blood clots or the urge to sleep with a moose.

But the doctor never bothered to mention these alternatives to me. Perhaps he doesn't know about them. He knows he wants me to stop drinking coffee. I begin to wonder if he went to college.

Obviously I don't have a migraine today or you'd be reading a shorter post. Anybody know a good neurologist?

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Boz, Muse

I resist posting about Boz every week--even every day. He's one of my favorite subjects, so as soon as I think I've let enough time pass as not to bore you, I'll put up a picture of him. I've got a million of 'em. I mean that very close to literally.

Boz is muse to other photographers as well. He even appears in Ibarionex Perello's Chasing the Light, an honest-to-goodness published book about photography by an honest-to-goodness professional photographer.

John made this impressionistic image of our elderly beastie on one of our Hahamongna romps. Boz mopes around the neighborhood like Eeyore. But a dog can have a muse, too. Out in the open spaces where his cousin coyotes roam, he is inspired.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Zen Monday: #188

It's time for your Monday Zen.

Here on Pasadena Daily Photo, Monday is the day you tell me about the photo rather than me telling you. Because sometimes, I have no idea.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

WetFest

Because we didn't get to have our LitFest yesterday (it's rescheduled for May 12th) I was hoping for a pretty good show of rain, and the skies delivered some beautiful stuff.

The Bottomless Pit of Love, aka Boz, gets even deeper on rainy days, refusing to go out and asking sweetly and persistently for extra attention. What can I say but yes? (Actually, I say "whoozapooper?" It means the same thing.)

In the afternoon, I talked to a friend in Chicago. (With her, I used regular English.) It was in the 70s and sunny where she was. It's supposed to be freezing and snowy in Chicago in March! What gives? Is it a fluke? Or is it time to mandate compost-powered cars?