Two Weeks Notice

I've done more in the two weeks I've been back in the mystical desert that is Tempe than I'd have done in two months back home. I think it's a sign that this was the right move to make.

I rolled into town to dinner and drinks with Jodi in downtown Phoenix, some acoustical stylings of Jeordie and Jason at The Paisley Violin, a shot from a pissed off bartendress who thought we were underage, and some Kilt Lifters and rock karaoke at The Yucca Tap. Nick and Ali came out to welcome me back to town for this short stint and we knocked 'em back and laughed 'em up, 'Twas a grand beginning.

Friday night brought the whole gang out to The Chuckbox, a great flamed-grilled-in-your-face place we were under the impression was going out of business, for some sweet-ass burgers and shocked and elated looks at my presence. I re-re-reintroduced Mike to Ryan, Morgan, Debbie, Mark, Emge, Nick, Joel, Chole, Terri, Maggie, Lorie, Joe, Taylor, Melissa, Fender, the Fenderlings…it was so wonderful to have the family back together. Most of them, anyway. Many were AWOL that evening. There was laughter and stories and love and bacon laced food and brews…what more could you want? It's what I've been missing for so long, and only had in bites followed by long dry spells. It was a balm, a tonic, a thick gel filled with various cut fruit for the soul. I heart you people.

Mike and I searched for and procured a DVD player in order to introduce each other to the sweetness that is Fletch and Memento, respectively, on his ungodly huge 64 in screen TV. It's like Chevy was right there in the room with us. And there are few things more thoroughly entertaining than YouTubing people being hit in the head with shit. Hours of gut busting laughs. Why did we stop? Hmmmm….Oh yeah. Ha.

We hit snooze a half dozen times before finally getting up to crock pot a pretty bitchen pot roast. The mouthwatering scent would torture us the rest of the day. It's amazing how quickly one sharp knife between two people can cut up a boatload of veggies. We day drank ourselves into a margarita bliss and then met Dave and Shana poolside for cervesas and silliness. A group of kids showed up with beer and a volleyball and it wasn't long before Team Guacamole took on Team Edward James Almos. Unfortunately, the sand in the sand volleyball court was more like shards of glass than sand, so those with more delicate feet…Mike…came away far more than unscathed. Pretty damn scathed, actually. Poor bastard. I have feet of kryptonite and therefore walked instead of hobbled away. They were a great group of kids…Kelso, 1983, Red Shirt, Guy and Chick, Jail Bait…hot tubs, pools, at least 80 beers, upstairs for amazing pot roast, wrestling matches, and balcony heckling Kelso and Guy's one on one v-ball match, and eventually passing out in front of a gloriously life-sized Guy Pierce in Memento. Sunday was a long, lazy day of recovering, the Lakers, and baseball. My fantasy team, Hot Drunk Hate, is kicking some fantasy ass.
Tuesday night Pat and I trekked to North Scottsdale for three hours of sweating our asses off with some East Coast swing dancing followed by pancakes and a Heart Attack burger at Denny's. It's breakfast on a burger. Hash browns, eggs, cheese…one of these days I'll pony up to that bad boy. I think Pat's going to marry it. Another pair of soul mates reunited.

I rocked Third Thursdays at Tempe Marketplace with Fax and Joel. They've got a great outdoor stage and a screen, sold alcohol and the event was free. The world needs more of these. I wish anywhere near my hometown would put something like this together. I wish I could see that actually happening. The first band, Dimonet, was ok. Not horrible, slightly rockin'. The headliner, MGMT, was a bastardized version of emo that I kept waiting to kick in, and they never quite did. I ended up sharing cocktails with a girl named Maria and her Maltese, Ronin. And, of course, lusting after Chuck Powell, DJ from The Morning Ritual on The Edge, who was hosting the event. OK, maybe I did a little more than lust…

I picked Mike up from the airport Friday night and we lounged through Saturday afternoon before tackling the delightfully overwhelming maze that is Ikea. TV: 1, coffee table: 1, couch: 0. Up a wok, down a kitchen rug. Oh, but Ikea has many more wonders in store. Ron, one of my favorite directors ever, scored me a ticket to his sold out final performance of Pulp at the Stray Cat Theatre in downtown Phoenix. It was amazing. So funny, such great costumes and sets, and truly fantastic acting. And so good to see live theatre again. Ahhhh, home. I met my former castmate Mr. Joe Kremer and the cast and crew of Pulp at Icepics where we pulled a pint of the gay, caught-up, drank-up, and laughed-up the rest of the night. Mike set the alarm for 6am to throw the delectable whole chicken and veggies he'd prepared the night before onto the crockpot so it would be ready in time for the gang's Movie Late Afternoon. I was so proud of him for getting up because lord knows I was blissfully in sleepy-land. Craigslist produced a rad couch/love-seat combo for cheap and Mike snagged it. Sweet seats for the afternoon Lakers game with Phil and Brian. We packed up that scrumptious chicken and headed back to Jodi's for a Friday/Harold and Kumar double feature with The Cool Kids.

More swing with Pat, dinner with Toni, Fat Elvises with Jodi, Kelly and Danalynn, my new kindred spirit, acoustic rounds at Yucca with Jodi, Jason, Shelby and Jim, job interviews, thrift store excavating, bookstore pilfering, reacquainting myself with my old stomping grounds, kicking ass at the gym I no longer have to drive half an hour to, fall theatre audition season to gear up for, live music to rock, and planting the seeds for more adventures.Two months in Ojai? I might have had the pleasure of a Shades of Day show, lunch with Chuck and his boys, and a movie alone. Oh, and a hopeless, neverending job search, good friends either an hour and a half south or 45 minutes north, spendy gas and spendy cocktails. What does all of that add up to? A big fat boo, that's what.

No official move yet, but it's safe to say this was the right decision to make. One I have labored over for far, far too long. "Sometimes the wrong direction is better than no direction at all". IS this the right decision? I'd like to think so. For so many reasons I have gone over time and again. Affordability, friends, social life, job opportunities, acting opportunities, and the sense that I made this place my home when I moved here years ago. It's hot as death in the summer, but there's opportunity and possibility here. The Phoenix molts once again, the Russian stacking doll reveals her new layer. Stay tuned, people. The party has only just begun.