Estate of Affairs

This morning before meeting Treva for coffee, I decided to drop by an estate sale in Studio City. I'm on the lookout for a cool coffee table and occasionally stop by garage sales to look, but have avoided estate sales. The reason: they make me freakin' sad. First off, I know the person is dead. That's why some company is selling off all of their stuff. While this is a good thing for the family left behind having to deal with a lifetime of accumulation, it just feels so uncomfortable to dig through belongings at the dead person's house. It might feel better if the majority of people there didn't behave like crazy-eyed scavengers. Honestly, you'd think it was the French Revolution with people crawling over the dead bodies of the resistance fighters foraging for gold teeth and pocket trinkets. I gave things a cursory glance, but had to split pretty quickly because I can't handle the feel of greed and frenetic desire perched in the air like a cloud.

Last night I took my mamacita to the Ahmanson for her birthday. We had box seats for a performance of August: Osage County. Good play. Estelle Parsons lit the stage on fire and her fellow cast members were strong, too. It was so cool to watch everyone in the boxes when something unexpected happened. We all leaned over the sides anxious to see what would happen next. I haven't experienced that at the theater for a long time. It felt good to gasp or laugh out loud...