bethofalltrades

I often forget that there are people who read my blog who don't read Amanda's.

This is a photo I took at Coachella:


We were at some fancy house in a fancy gated community near the site doing press. It was surreal.

My life is frequently very surreal.

I remember at some point this weekend, and god knows when it was, I looked at Katrina and I said, "Life is pretty amazing."

She agreed.

It is, actually. I saw Leonard Cohen play. He sang First We Take Manhattan and he got to my favorite verse and I cried a little.

I don't like your fashion business mister
I don't like these drugs that keep you thin
I don't like what happened to my sister
First we take Manhattan... then we take Berlin

Those words were written on a scrap of paper and pinned to my bedroom door all through college. I carefully unpinned the paper, which by that point was yellowing around the edges, when I moved. It's in a book somewhere, pressed between the pages to avoid wrinkles. And I got to see and hear the man SING IT LIVE. I closed my eyes and imagined that he knew that I was standing there and really feeling what he said.

I opened them and I was surrounded by a crush of thousands who were feeling it too. We sang the chorus of Hallelujah together.

The man is 74 years old. He spent five years in seclusion in a Buddist monastery. Leonard Cohen is an honest-to-god MONK. He radiated sheer JOY during his performance, joy and incredible grace. Seeing him play was transcendent.

Life is pretty amazing.

Love,
Beth

I am such a bleeding heart.

There is a calico cat in the neighborhood who has always been very friendly. I assumed she was someone's outdoor (ugh) cat, being that she was so socialized.

Yesterday I stopped to pet her and she was very thin and dirty. I noticed that her nipples were swollen--- she'd had kittens recently.

I went to the store, got some food, and fed her. Sat and petted her for a bit and she looked up and me and the following conversation ensued:

Cat: You're mine and you'll be taking me home with you.
Beth: Um, I already have a cat and my roommates will be pissed if I do that.
Cat: Yeah, that's gonna suck for you, but I don't make the rules.
Beth: I've already promised the spot to someone else.
Cat: Uh, huh. Because three is SO MUCH HARDER than two.
Beth: If I bring you home, your kittens will starve.
Cat: Okay, stall if you want to, but this is inevitable, because you're MINE motherfucker.
Beth: Fuck you, cat, I am NOT bringing you home with me.
Cat: ... riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

Today when I went to feed her, I found a little orange kitten. His face was dirty and he came right over to me. So, I did what any reasonable person would do.

I put him in my bag and speed-walked home.

I gave him some water and towels and put him in a large box in the bathroom. Then I went back out for mom.

The man living nearby said that he saw four kittens at first, but only the orange one recently. I sat with mom for a while, petting her while she ate. Soon a different man came out of the house and told me I had to leave the property, but that I should take the cat with me.

After all, she was, he said, "just a stray."

I scooped her up and walked as fast as I could. She snarled and tried to bite me. Luckily David was there to open the door and I plunked her into the bathroom with kitten, where the two of them have been for the last half hour.

I am going to go look for the other kittens again, but if they haven't been seen in a week... the streets of Brooklyn are not an easy place for kittens.

For now, here's mom:


And baby (it's a boy):


I need to name them to take them to the vet... any suggestions?

Love,
Beth