tinsely & bruley

LIFE, in 3’s

You know how “they” say bad things come in 3’s?  Screw that. I’m changing the rules.

Last week, 2 fantastic men I know passed away.  I decided I wasn’t going to wait around for 3rd piece of bad news.  Instead, my friend, Tiffany, had a beautiful baby girl.  I want the universe to know: Enough. Deal over. Finito. Three pieces of big news, move along.

And now I’d like to take a moment to pay tribute to these 3 people in my life.

Last week, I noticed two friends became fans of “Friends of Adam Ruble” on Facebook.  My heart sank.  Adam Ruble is a childhood/family friend. We grew up at our country club together—we swam, played tennis, golf, volleyball, etc. (Waspy jokes another time please. I’m the first to point out how ridiculous that sounds, but I’ll save it for another post…) Adam and I were not particularly close, but I can say I’ve known him my whole life.  I have distinct memories of him telling me about his love of animals and how he wanted to be a vet one day.  He succeeded, and then some; he grew up to be a zookeeper (a real life zookeeper!) at the San Diego Zoo. In a terrible twist of fate, he was struck by a car after he got out of his car on the freeway.  It’s beyond strange and so baffling. I don’t know why he got out of his car, but I do know he did not have car troubles, drugs and alcohol were not involved, and they ruled his death an accident. A sad day for all who knew him, and a sad day for the animal world. I’ve since heard he wanted to go to law school to fight for animal rights. The world could use more men like Adam. Adam, wherever you are, I hope you are happy and surrounded by the animals you loved so dearly!  Thanks for being a part of my life, even if it was just in a small way. The family has asked for donations to the zoo in Adam’s honor.

With Adam on my mind and the week already off to a tainted start, I received word from my friend, Julia, about our friend Jodi and her boyfriend, James.  Julia was vague on the details, but she said Jodi and James were in Boston for the weekend to go to the Pats game. James slipped and fell and hit his head.  The next day he was rushed into emergency brain surgery. It turned out, James suffered from an epidural hematoma and was currently in a coma.  Okay. Okay, Jodi must be devastated, but there is hope right?  Never lose hope.  A day or two went by, and I received an email from Jodi explaining the situation more in depth. In what must have been an unfathomably difficult email to write, Jodi explained that James would not be coming out of the coma. The strength she had to write such a composed and lovely email delivering such terrible news is nothing short of phenomenal.  James was the love of her life.  I didn’t know James well, but I recently (feels like yesterday!) had drinks with the both of them when they were visiting LA. James was a fantastic, amazing, crazy fun guy—a perfect match for Jodi.  I’ve known Jodi with a few boyfriends, but no one compared to James. I was so looking forward to a wedding like no other.  They decided on 3pm (kick-off time) as a tribute to James’ love of football to let him go.  James, you will be missed so very much by so many people. May your spirit live on in Jodi.  And Jodi, my love, I think of you ever second of the day.  I hope from the picture above, you get a sense of the type of couple they were.  A couple you want to be, and at the very least, a couple to be friends with.  Thank you James and Jodi for showing us what real love is and when we have it, never ever take one second for granted.

THAT FACE. I know.  As I referenced above, I was not about to wait for the other ball to drop. I chose my own number 3.  Perhaps a better writer could come up with some non-cliche reference to death and new life, but right now I got nothing.  Just know, it’s not lost on me. While still in shock from both Adam and James’ untimely deaths, news of my friend Tiffany in labor was a welcome (if only brief) distraction. (You might remember Tiffany from here and here). Without going into too much depth about her personal business, I will say Tiffany is a stunningly beautiful, amazingly fun, and all around awesome girl. The father of her child? Not so much.  Hey dude, I happen to know 2 men who would have loved the opportunity to be fathers, so maybe you can step up to the plate a bit?  Sorry, back to Tiffany.  Thanks to an epidural and good baby karma (or something like that), Tiffany had a fairly quick and easy labor.  Baby Samantha decided to join us on Saturday, weighing in at a healthy 8.4 pounds. Welcome Sammy!  So glad you are here!  I’m so proud to call Tiffany my friend.  What a strong and resilient woman she is!  Baby Sam hit the mommy jackpot.  Now get your butts back to California so I can hang out with my girls!

I want to say, all three of these people should have their own posts.  But I realize this is a public forum, and I even though I could go on and on and on, I just wanted you all to read even a little bit about these three and their lives here on earth.  For Adam and James, their time was far too brief.  For Sammy, it’s only been brief (so far!). But I would like to note, I feel so fortunate these three people (and the others mentioned) are a part of my life, and my story. I want their stories known. Thank you for reading.

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Adam Ruble James Joly Tiffany Baby Sam Life

An update.

So remember when I thought I was going insane?

Well, i was. Still kind of am. But more on that in a minute.  First of all, thanks for this:

Yes, and excellent Chirstmas card, indeed.  Except now that picture has tainted memories, so maybe not? As for the necklace, good eye.  I actually got it in a gift bag at work that an executive didn’t want. No idea where it came from or how pricey it could potentially be, but it’s my everyday go-to, and I love.  I’m sure you can find something similar.  Close up:

Now onto my ears.  I called the doctor back and was told to, “Give it a few WEEKS.”  No, Sir. The buzzing sound in my ear was at such a high pitch, I knew this was not a simple ear infection.  No f’ing way.  It’s not normal to have a buzzing, hissing, whooshing sound all day, every day in your ears. I realized Doctor #1 wasn’t taking me seriously, so I went to see Dr. #2, who I found out was Chief of Staff at the hospital.  Bonus points!  He sat me down, looked in my ears, nose, throat, poked and prodded me here and there, and looked at me said, “Nothing is wrong, but have you ever had your hearing tested?”  My heart sank.  No, not that I can remember.

So he brought me into a soundproof booth, put headphones on me and told me to raise my hand every time I heard something in my ear.  The first few beeps?  My hand shot straight up.  Yes, yes, I hear that!  And then something strange began to happen. I watched him push the buttons.  I closed my eyes to focus.  Nothing.  I opened, and I watched button after button, I watched him pick up his pen and make mark after mark.  I strained and strained, but all I could hear was the buzzing INSIDE my head.  I can’t begin to explain what that moment was like. I knew I was failing the test. I knew it was not good. Just me, in a booth, alone, realizing, my body was failing me.  I was not in control.

So he showed me the results. Normal frequencies? No problem.  High frequencies, I’m clearly impaired. I began to sob. (and sob and sob and sob) He made me calculate exactly when I went to Vegas.  How many days was I there? How many clubs? How much did I drink? How long was in each club? How close was I to the speakers? How did I feel the day I got back?  How come I didn’t come in sooner? To which I wanted to reply, “I DON’T KNOW. YOU JUST TOLD ME I HAVE SERIOUS HEARING LOSS. THE RINGING IN MY EARS IS SO LOUD, I WANT TO PUNCH SOMEONE. I DID GO TO THE DOCTOR SOONER, HE TOLD ME IT WAS AN INFECTION!! PLEASE, JUST MAKE THIS GO AWAY.  PLEASE, OH PLEASE, OH PLEASE!”

I tried my hardest to calm down. I listened to everything he had to say. Why me?  Everyone has wild weekends in Vegas?  He’s not sure.  Will it be forever?  Probably not.  But it could be?  Maybe. Will the ringing stop? Hopefully. What does this MEAN?  It means I will probably have a very normal life. Conversation will be fine, music in the car will be fine. But if I was a musician or someone who needed to finely tune instruments or sounds? No dice. Honestly, I can take some hearing loss.  I’m okay with that.  It’s the ringing in my ears that needs to go away. And in hindsight, I realize people get much, much worse news on an hourly basis, every day around the world.  But in that moment?  I was just at a loss.  One of my very basic senses is slipping away.  What if it wasn’t Vegas?  What if is something bigger?  Doc told me not to think like that.

He started me on a heavy, heavy dose of steroids right away. I’m talking 12 pills a day for awhile.  The pharmacist joked the instructions were so detailed, there was no bottle big enough to print them on.  Thanks, Dick, but not the time for jokes. I wanted to know what it all looked like.  See below:

Sa-weet.  Those are ROIDS!  But today is a new day. I’m remaining POS-I-TIVE.  Hopefully this will all be a bad memory.  Hopefully the ringing will stop soon.  (They said I should start to feel improvement soon.) In the meantime, no drinking, no caffeine, no loud music in my car, no bars, no loud restaurants, no headphones—so basically no living my normal life.  But that’s okay.  I can do it.  I never in a million years thought I’d have hearing loss.  Talk about not taking something for granted ever ever again.  It’s not the end of the world.  I will get through this.  And I will find the humor.  (I will also curse Vegas and DJ Kascade forever!)

Take this morning, for example. I swear, I just lightly tugged at a pair of pants off the hanger in my closet and SNAP. I broke the hanger.  Watch out, I got some ROID RAGE.

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Life.

Two players in this story.

High school best friend and bitchy, popular, entitled frenemy from high school. You know the type, the one that was supposed to “go places.” The one who was supposedly connected.

High school best friend (HSBF from this point forward) has a super awesome, impressive job.  One that would drive BPEF crazy. One that would make her want to befriend HSBF if she could now.  Too bad she was such a c-u-next Tuesday to HSBF back in the day.

HSBF decided to work out of the office for the afternoon and took up residence at a chain restaurant.  Just someplace she could get some work done.  Nothing snazzy or sceney or anything worth mentioning in any story besides this one. And low and behold, guess who is her server?  BPEF, with lipstick all over her teeth, to boot.  Guess things really panned out for her.  Would you like to start with soup or salad?

Between Amanda Knox and this encounter, there is so much justice in the world this week.  Things are looking up.

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life karma high school

LA vs. New York

For the new followers out there—welcome! Psyched you are here.  Something you may not know about me: I’m from LA, but I lived in NYC for 8 years before coming back to LA almost 2 years ago. I consider myself a New Yorker. I miss it every single day. I vibed with the city. I felt most “me” in New York City.  But, I’m trying to get into the swing of things in LA.  My family is here, and I work in television. Shit just makes sense, ya know? 

But the one thing I just can’t get over here?  LA has a way of making you feel like everyone is doing something better, cooler, smarter, more fun than you are.  And it’s not always true! But you don’t interact with people like you do in New York. You spend your morning commute in your car. You get to work, and the minute you hop online, you see your friends’ status updates, and it can make you feel like a total loser. Variety just did a “Who’s Who” in the industry, and a few people I know made the list. Of the “ten assistants to watch,” one of the kids has actually gotten stoned in my apartment! And I catch myself thinking, “Well, fuck. I suck.”

But you know what’s bullshit? I never felt this way in New York. Ever. And I think it’s because the minute you walk out of your apartment, you’re out in the WORLD. You’re faced with the homeless, the hipsters, the smelly for no apparent reason, the fashionistas who are probably up to the ears in credit card dept, the miserable finance guys, the single moms working 2 jobs, the elderly who can’t leave their 5th floor walk-up cause it’s rent controlled, the wannabes, the never will bes, the addicts, the trannies, the central park mom & nannies, the lost-in-the-big-cities, the “actors,” and everyone else in between.  And you never feel sorry for yourself because everyone is living their own life.

And maybe it’s just me. Maybe other LA folk don’t feel that way. [Side note: I can’t stand the term Los Angelenos. “LA folk” isn’t much better. Lose/Lose.]  But I just feel like New Yorkers keep it in better perspective. Sure, someone will always be better off than you, but SO SO many people have it worse. I think it really goes for any city, any job, any LIFE you may be living.  Remember, someone else has it worse. Be grateful for what you have! And believe it can and WILL get better. Do I sound like I’m remotely convincing myself of that? No? Awesome.

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The story of my heart, currently

I have two best friends. The best any girl could ever ask for. Within 48 hours:

Candice had a baby.

Kara’s ex-fiance died.

To say my heart is overwhelmed is an understatement. They say we have 4 chambers, but I’m fairly certain my heart is broken into two distinct pieces.  A clean break.

One piece feels so whole it might burst. For the 23 years I’ve known Candice, she’s wanted a baby. She actually convinced herself because she wanted one so badly, she wouldn’t be able to. But now she has a beautiful baby girl, and I smile like a fool when I think about.

The other piece is shattered into a million jagged pieces. Even though Kara and Dani weren’t together anymore, I know the love they had was very real. I witnessed it. I lived it, standing side by side with Kara when things were very good and when things were very bad. And Dani was my friend, too.

It’s all a blur. There was a moment last night when J ran into Yogurtland and I stayed in the car. I was a sobbing, disastrous mess. I was talking to Dani out loud, and my phone rang. It was a Facetime request from Candice and her baby. The minute I saw Rae in her crib, I started crying even harder. I was so happy! And then all of a sudden I lost perspective of why I was crying. And then I cried some more!

I’ve debated how I’m going to talk about them both here. And the truth is, I want to share both. In no particular order, either. So if things seem a little all over the place in the immediate future, it is because I am.

I’m slowly but surely attempting to pick up both pieces and put them back together. Trying to really LIVE in each moment. Feeling the sad and the happy in waves. 

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