place to be

This little blog has been a bit quiet lately. Not to the point of starvation or real loneliness (because I could never do that, I just don't have the heart to leave you in the dust, post-less with a declining readership), but there does seem to be a lack of excitement here, amirite? SORRYYYYYYY

I have the best friends here in LA. I regularly feel overwhelmed by how thankful I am that we found each other. This has been an incredible week of concerts, quality talks, laughing, planning, and country club lunches.

Lily Gatica, you are the only one missing from this! I'll forgive you since you took it.

My life has exploded. Just...exploded. It's a mess to clean up, if you were wondering. I've done what I often do: become so involved and spread so thin across so many channels that there simply are not enough hours in the day to take care of everything I'd like to take care of. So naturally, I'm going to adopt a broken kitten and take on one more thing. In my excitement about short films and design and kittens and fascination and all of my recent chaos, I've let the weeds grow fairly tall on some parts of my life. Don't do that, my loves. Even if the end result is a 2-day long conversation that ends up solving issues you didn't even know you had, making things honestly and truly better. Don't be like me and neglect what you love just because at one particular moment in time, something else holds your interest in a more exciting way. 

The trouble with me is that I'm always searching for fascination, even when I don't know it. That's why I'm always running from things, moving, redecorating, changing jobs, redesigning blog layouts, changing my clothes 6 times before work, and so on. I need to feel like everything is fresh and new, all the time. It's why I'm a neat freak.

When something doesn't feel new, I don't feel fascinated and Hannabrain goes on autopilot, concentrating on other things and assuming that the excitement will come back after I focus my energy elsewhere for a while. Usually it works, but you can't really do that with people, can you?

The answer to that question, if you were unsure, is an obvious NO.

I say obvious because it's obvious to everyone. Except for me. Because I always have to be the one sitting when everyone else is standing ifyouknowwhatimean.

Moving on. It's fathers day. For those of you who aren't lucky enough to have met Mark Scott, he is the most wonderful man I've ever known. The most brilliant, honest, simple, hilarious man on earth. With the best taste in music. I was the awkward child that listened to Loudon Wainwright and Doc Watson and the Grateful Dead in second grade and couldn't relate to anyone else in my class, all because he forced me to have a brain and stand behind my opinions, which is so very difficult to do when you're growing up. He forced me to be my own person and not give a fuck about anyone that has a problem with that. He was/is always on my side, even when I pierced my own belly button in 9th grade and had to cancel a trip to NYC because I got in so much trouble. He fought for me to have more freedom in high school because he understood that when you give me the space to do things on my own, I WILL do things the right way. He is a gem, and I am the luckiest person alive to have him as a father. I hope all of you are just as lucky.