don't-stop-get-it-get-it...

i've been gone a minute but now i'm back in it. miles to go 'fore i sleep though. raccoon drama (that's a whole different blog) and i'm still moving into my new digs. consider this my open invitation to you, dear reader, to the "don't-stop-get-it-get-it-up-all-night-til-the-morning-light unpacking party." it's byob so come packin. (LOL)

we survived the first week of school. my children love their teachers (phew!) and are settling in and doing well. my son lost his second tooth of the week yesterday morning and was scared to look under his pillow for the dollar bill and the 2 half dollar coins the tooth fairy (*wink, wink*) left for him. (i imagine the thought of some figment of a lilliputian person sneaking money under your pillow in exchange for your teeth MUST be weird for a six-year-old.) when i handed him the money, he smiled wide, sans the teeth necessary to fill the grin.

so, i have been meaning to write about my recent trip to cali. (august 11-15). it was amazing. there is nothing like cali weather to soothe the beasts that grow in you when you are away from it. my hair always acts right. my skin feels clearer, breathes better. (must be the smog.) my overall disposition is sunnier. ahhh, to be home again!

my flight landed in san diego just after 10pm on thursday (8/11). i went immediately to the rental car company then got on the road to la by 11:30pm. the whole way there, a half of me was thinking, what the heck am i doing? the other half was thinking, “i’m grown” and it was liberating and i was on a mission. find an agent or die trying. well, not die, but you know what i mean…

a terrycloth robe and slipper clad stephanie, groggy but glad to see me, helped me find a parking space on the street near her hollywood apartment. we circled blocks with swarms of other cars to finally squeeze into a spot occupiable only thru 8am that morning as not to interrupt the path for the weekly friday street sweeping.

steph’s the kind of friend every person wishes they had. we settled into her apartment and got right to work, going through the list of agents i would target for representation; steph offering information she knew of this company or that, and simultaneously catching each other up on life since the last time we saw each other. by the time we finally passed out, it was 4am.

later, at more tolerable waking hour of that day, i’d drag myself up to move the car and begin at least a dozen fruitless calls to agencies who don’t accept unsolicited materials. conundrum: how can you try to get representation from an agency who won’t look at your work because… get this… it’s not represented. how does that work? and when i did get the attention of an agency, i didn’t have technology working on my side. i had nowhere to fax or email a submission and none of them were game for my spontaneous drop in. (so i didn’t get to share my wonderfully composed “shia’s shameless self-promotion packet”.) i did make an invaluable connection with a sista who seemed to be doing great things with her own script, despite any hollywood generated roadblocks (shout out to jhyacinthxa [lavender flower] and “trestle glen”… check out www.blackswanentertainment.com). i also made contact with two of the production companies i am thirsty for and armed, now, with tactical approaches on getting my scripts to the right people. when one of those contacts works out (and i did say when, not if), don’t trip, my lovelies, you will know.

after a long day, a robust ration of steph’s kick ass ground turkey nachos and a much needed nap, i bid my old high school buddy adieu and headed to i-5, southbound for san diego to turn in the car that i would later discover i left my new anthony hamilton cd in. (of course the car company has no idea where it went.) anyway, my mother, auntie “mishero” and uncle ronnie picked me up, greeting me between their usual sibling rebukings and banter; my mother backseat-driving the entire way as we haphazardly found our way through the streets of san diego, back to nana and grandpas longstanding gem on the street of my childhood, jewell drive.

the rest of the weekend was a basking in the love of my maternal family and my grandparents, who only seem to get better with age. they are both slightly shorter than i remember and now don porcelains that soak in buzzing blue cleaning containers overnight than in their mouths. everything else, though, is fully intact, both still fully “well” and gorgeous. still connected, brilliant and intelligent. she’s still charming and graceful. he’s still witty and playful. they are still full of memories and a need to remind us of who we are. they are still magical.

i got to spend time with cousins i hadn’t seen in forever. it’s always interesting to reacquaint ourselves after so many years. all of us are parents now. the children and the younger cousins looked at us like we were our parents. hard to believe i am not in that generation anymore. not only can i sit at the big table but i am helping prepare the space now too. (food preparation in the williams family is reserved for my uncles who take after grandpa, a navy chef extraordinaire! he’s the resident title holder for best hotcakes and sweet potato pie with my uncles kenny and mike following his legendary status quite well. needless to say, at williams gatherings, you can always expect to eat well.!)

i think the most telling moment for me, watching them dance. there was a moment in the celebration where the floor belonged to them. it was an amalgamation reminiscent of swing, salsa, and the chicago strut that was all charles and clarina. fully in sync in a way that i have seen few other marriages these days.

before i left, i took my obligatory seat in the corner next to the same console that i used to smack dead into every time my grandfather chased our before bath naked butts through the house. ("charles... cut it out... someone's going to get hurt, charles," my nana would call after him in her voice that i have never heard above the level of a sternly dignified command. but grandpa never listened and time and time again i'd greet the console, head first.) from their home in the cubby next to the fireplace, i poured the large sack of pictures out around me and revisited my childhood on jewel drive and all of the years of "the before" and "the after" i came. it is interesting how many of the pictures of me then, look like my children now. the next time i go, i am taking salihah and naim. and i have to remind myself to take at least a handful of pictures to add to the swell so they will always know where to come to find themselves, just like i do.

abrazos y besos...
shia