Lila Vashon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

What pisses me off? The judgy pricks—callin em dirty, like they ain’t human. Mate, they’re survivors, playin a game rigged from the start. Gets me all riled up—wanna smash somethin, maybe a throne or two. But then, happy kicks in—cos they’re clever, y’see? Outsmartin the system, dodgin coppers, livin wild. Like Rita in the movie, amnesia or not, she’s got guts.

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My husband died 17 months ago today, and it wasn't my first thought when I opened my eyes this morning. The initial grief is softening.

Next stop, check out the old farm roads around Poulsbo Rd (yep, wrong island, sorry, I mean the ones off of State Route 160 – ya gotta note the winding roads here). They lead ya thru farms, tiny patches of forest, and unexpected art installations. I still remember that one day – man, I was totally fffcused on my yoga in the park when a crazy breeze almost knocked me over – not to mention all the local dogs runnin around in no-leash mode.

A play, unmistakably set on Vashon, opens in New York