*this

Today I woke up wanting nothing more than to look like this* and listen to Jimmy Buffett. I have raided all of my parents' (apparently substantial) Hawaiian shirt collection, including several that belonged to my brother. When he was six. I am now creating the appropriate playlist on Spotify (sorry) and eyeing the tequila shelf. If you don't hear from the real Cheyanne in five days call in an exorcist or otherwise qualified specialist.** You will find me somewhere between 1974 and 1998 in Margaritaville, on a boat called "Imagination."

**I do have insurance.

Grace Kelly playing me in the upcoming project from Warner Bros., "March 2013."

Life is a strange and magical thing, my slight cherubs. I've fallen into a series of proposed adventures for the next month that might surpass in quantity and magnitude all previous months in recent memory. How thrilling. Several of them involve islands. Not usually one for warmer climes and tropical themes, I am nevertheless ecstatic at the prospects before me. Granted, sailing to Catalina should actually be a very cold endeavor this time of year, but it's still more exotic than driving to Tiki Ti, right? And a weekend in Hawaii-- bring on the tiny umbrellas and lengthy vowel-heavy words! Not to mention my love affair with skuzzy surf-rock a la The Allah-las and Blackfeet Braves (and the Zombies and Love) is still in full swing. I need to find some ratty Hawaiian shirts or something to show the world that while my body is firmly planted on cracked cement sidewalks walking the crowded streets being "productive," my mind is on some isolated island with nothing but the boat I used to get there, some Red Stripes, some rum, a hammock, the books I'm reading (the stack is huge-- Miller, Celine, Campbell, Neil Young's bio, Brautigan, Jeffers, a tome of Stones' interviews, and some really cheesy fiction to start...), and... what else? Something to eat. Clothes wouldn't be important, but sunscreen is naturally a must-have. Also nice smelling shampoo or something (eco-friendly, obviously), because that sounds pleasant. Oh, and coconut macarons. This fantasy is getting too elaborate. You get the picture.

That said, I really haven't the slightest desire to "be" anywhere besides exactly where I am. Not to get all "Oprah" (can we make that an adjective?), but the present is most delightful, thankfully, and the future holds the promise of... I'm not sure yet, but there are some very lovely possibilities bobbing about on the horizon. Let's toast to an exciting spring-- now where did I put my glass?

THINGS I HTAE

1. raw tomatoes

2. typos

3. stoplights

At Giant Rock. This rock is not that rock.

I've been busy since the last time I saw you, I'm sorry. But we have so much to catch up on. I'll have to explain it all later, with photos. Above is one-- this was how I spent my birthday. A weekend in Joshua Tree and on the way back dinner in Santa Barbara. Just bear with me on that. It was fabulous-- to wake up in a creaky room filled with cowboy paraphernalia in the middle of the desert and end the day boots in the sand, staring at the stars on the edge of the continent-- could have done worse.

Speaking of doing worse, I've picked up sailing again and joined a group that co-owns a lovely little 35-foot sailboat in Marina Del Rey. It's called The Mystic, which just brings images of Van Morrison levitating into mind from the ether.

While commandeering said vessel a few weeks ago, I ran over a whale. I didn't hit it (it's more accurate to say it didn't hit me), but it surfaced a few feet off, headed straight for the side of the boat. Flabbergasted, we all stood making "ahhh!" and "woooh!" sounds. The whale, a master of suspense, waited until the very last moment to dive its approximately 50 foot self a few feet below our hull, soaring beneath us into the deep. Not one to leave without saying a goodbye, it resurfaced a little ways off and sent us a tail flip straight from a Pacific Life commercial. Easily in contention for one of the most magical experiences I have ever had or beheld, it was exhilarating in a way I do not think I could convey to anyone who wasn't there with me.

In all, I'd say my plans for world domination are proceeding nicely.

Super flattering. Hand motions not sold separately.

The day of the whale (pictured) was so clear you could see all Catalina, some of the farther islands, and up to Point Dume (or as I like to think of it, Pointe Doom). Inland you could see the mountains above Palm Springs. In this photo, Mt. Baldy, downtown, and the moon are all having a moment.

Another charmer, this is me and a can of beer, in a foam holder (the beer), en route to a nap up front.