Wish I had been the one to ask the question, where do the chefs feast? Here is an article about top picks of LA based Chef’s. Def going to have to check some of these out!
This year I am doing the 39 mile Avon Walk from Santa Barbara. I am walking for my mother and anyone else who has been affected by breast cancer. For my birthday I am asking that people donate to the cause, by clicking my link here.
My mother is the most amazing person I know and I could think of no better way of honoring her than walking for her. Please join me, or donate.
One of my head pieces featured in an Etsy Treasury here.
Click for more info!
I had a haunting dream last night, I was a ghost, and was living in an apartment with a boyfriend and his friends. I said I was new to this whole ghost thing, and wanted to know if everything is the same as when I was alive. My guy said everything is the same except no one that is living can see you. I went down the dilapidated apartment’s long hallway towards the bathroom. As I neared the bathroom, I had a chill run up my spine. I peered into the dimly lit, plain looking bathroom, and had to turn to leave. It felt like something bad had happened in there.
I go back to my guy and tell him I can’t go in there, and that something wasn’t right. He said, part of passing over is that you forget some parts of your past life, but that you will see clues and start to recall as you adapt to the afterlife. All the sudden some friends walk in, and I start to realize that if they can see me that means that they have died too. I start to cry for them, and my friend Gabby says that she was hit by a car as she was walking across the street. “What happened to you?” she asks. I say, “I think my friends did it to me…” even though I was not quite sure what that meant, it just came out. We all decided to go grab a bite to eat. I was confused how we could do this in public if no one can see us. Gabby said, we call and place an order and when the guy is not looking we drop the money on the counter and take the bags- “works every time”.
We leave to walk to the cafe, and on the way I see a church and I have the urge to run up the brick steps into the white building. I hear someone behind me say, “Someone should stop her.”
I keep running up the stairs and inside, and I see all white flowers, and people sitting on benches crying. I see my mother crying, and I see that it is my own funeral, but no one can see me.
I wake up.