Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: We were integrating our worlds and families. Then came the boob texts
I was comfortable being called “weekend girl” and had even coined the nickname. We met running on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica. Our first date followed: a run through Pacific Palisades. We talked about food. Our second date: dinner. We talked about running. I was coming out of a sticky romantic relationship and into a new job, so a casual fling seemed appropriate. We had endless common interests; making plans was easy. He was the best kisser I’d ever come across, but I still liked my solo weeknights.
It continued that way for a few months. There were sleepless nights of laughter and love-making. I didn’t care where he was on a Wednesday. I had a dumpy, dark one-bedroom further south on the disregarded part of Bundy Drive, and he had a well-appointed and nicely lit two-bedroom, so weekends were at his place or occasionally the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. Things were light and fluffy until he made a proposal.
“Do you want to be adventure buddies?” he asked while we dined at the hotel bar.
“Well, yes, I like that title. Does that mean I’m not ‘weekend girl’ anymore?”
“Adventure buddies” had a nice ring, but it was vague.
“I was thinking we can clear out a closet at my place, and you could spend more time there.” He faced forward.
We organized the closet the following weekend. I was wearing a T-shirt and just my underwear, while he was wearing his sleeping shorts, no shirt. We agreed it was a fantastic Friday night. I woke up in the morning to a warm California sun and hot coffee, sipped on the balcony. Noticing that the outdoor space got just enough light to wring out some tomatoes, we headed to the nursery to top off our nest.
I had been a serial apartment dweller with limited outdoor space, so I never knew the color of my thumbs. We plucked three healthy tomato plants and three pots. We added plant food and tomato cages to the cart. The staff offered their expertise several times, and I wondered if I was wearing something that screamed “gardening noob.” We declined the help, as it seemed easy enough; put the plants in the dirt and water them.
Two blissful months later, we were getting some tomatoes and lots of loving. We were planning adventures, date nights and what we would cook with our forages from the farmers’ market. It was effortless. We spent most of our time just the two of us, but we were slowly integrating our respective worlds and families. I was the happiest I had ever been, and I felt fortunate. Gratitude is due when your biggest problem is the sad-looking tomato plants on your balcony. Something was wrong.
Back to the garden center we went, bringing a leaf as a specimen. They said we had an unidentified pest and pointed us to the neem oil. We got back to our babies, and as we started to spray, there they were: hornworms. They were bright green with pokey stinger-looking things on their butts, and they were as long as my index finger. There were dozens of them. We loaded them into a giant mason jar, but it was too late. My green dreams were now caterpillar nightmares. Maybe we should have asked more questions in the beginning? How did I not notice this sooner?
“Wanna get froyo?” I was a sucker for mochi and figured that would cheer me up.
“Sure, just gonna take a quick shower.” He set his phone down and hopped in. I went to grab my mascara and saw the white and blue messages light up.
“I wish I were with you tonight, but Em is here.” No name, just a number. I scrolled up — boobs but no face. Who was this girl?
I didn’t move to L.A. to become an actor, but I sure put on a performance that night. I let the phone go black without a word as the shower shut off. We ate the yogurt and called it an early night. I lay mummy-style and wide-eyed next to him through the sleepless night. By daybreak, I had a plan.
I spent the next morning with his iPad reading through text chains. “You’re so gorgeous,” or “I’d love to take you to dinner,” or “I am not with that girl; you are the one for me.” There were nudes and sexts and I love yous. And so, so many people. I gasped and shook while reading the first few lines, but it became more like entertainment as the minutes passed. It was more than two hours of reading material. I was hungry and had planned to get my nails done, so I grabbed the wallet he had left on the table and helped myself to a champagne lunch and a mani-pedi.
I got home before he did and prepped myself for the fireworks. The bubbles and the “five-more-minutes” foot massage helped boost my confidence.
“Babe!” he exclaimed, excited and clueless.
“Babe!” I parroted. “I just finished reading your iPad! What a productive morning!”
I was calm while he paused.
“Oh my god. Get out. I can’t believe you violated my privacy,” he yelled.
I responded without defensiveness. “It’s sad. I thought I loved you. But it turns out you love 13 others — and that ain’t gonna work for me.” With calculated confidence, I directed him to pack my things from the closet. I was eager to get back to my dungeon-like, safe apartment.
“I hope you get help. It seems like you need it.” I really did care for him, and it was hard to drive away.
It was a lot to take in over a short time, but I am grateful for the lessons. For me, integrity is paramount and asking questions up-front is a must. Even when the dating gets tough, I won’t settle for less than the truth. This summer, I will be companion planting basil, dill and marigolds with my tomatoes and an occasional spritz of a natural insecticide.
The author is an entrepreneur and working on a book about overcoming betrayal. She splits her time between L.A. and Michigan. She’s on Instagram: @emilybrynwilliams.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
These ten women from a working-class neighborhood in Mumbai were completely new to film-making. They got smart phones and started filming their lives. Here they pose with filmmaker Shilpi Gulati, who taught them filmmaking basics. Gulati, wearing red, stands at the far right in the second row.
Mangesh Gudekar/School of Media and Cultural Studies, TISS.
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Mangesh Gudekar/School of Media and Cultural Studies, TISS.
It’s the first scene in a new documentary. A group of women are being taught how to use phone cameras so they can make a documentary about their lives as domestic workers, community health workers, toilet operators and home caregivers. The voice of their instructor is heard talking about the things they need to think about: composing a frame, lighting, holding the camera still.
One woman raises her hand and asks: “Where is the record button?”
The room erupts in laughter.
Inexperience didn’t keep them from fulfilling their dream. These 10 working class women from Mumbai are the co-directors of the new movie Mast Mahila Mandali –- that’s Hindi for Cool Ladies Club –- which had its premiere this spring in Mumbai’s iconic, 1930s art-deco style Regal theater for an audience of 1,200 that included families and neighbors of the novice directors as well as cinephiles and media professionals.
The title came from Shilpi Gulati, the filmmaker they worked with and who taught them filmmaking basics. She suggested it at a meeting of the ten women. They deliberated over it and thought it fit the spirit of the film, pushing back against the idea that they are helpless women from the slums.
“For me, a ‘cool lady’ is someone who is bindaas — relaxed, fearless and does whatever comes to her heart,” says Rehana Shaikh, 32, a home caregiver and one of the ten selected to take part in this project.
The idea was to show what their lives are like — and also to show how cool they are by giving them a chance to express their creativity and just goof around on camera and have fun.
The idea for the film took root in 2024 and came from Supriya Jan of CORO India, a nonprofit group that teaches leadership skills to marginalized women. Her initial idea was to focus on the group’s Right to Pee campaign, which advocates for safe, clean and free public toilets. And she wanted women from the impoverished M-east ward to make the film rather than hiring an outsider.
Jan, the executive producer of the film, reached out to Shilpi Gulati, a filmmaker who teaches at the School of Media and Cultural Studies at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences in Mumbai, to work on the project.
At first, Gulati was puzzled by the idea. The women did not know anything about filmmaking, so how could they co-direct a film? She sprang into action: “It was a wild experiment. I put together a lesson plan so the women could learn the basics of filmmaking, from lighting to composition. We met every Saturday from about 1:30 to 6:30 p.m.,” says Gulati. With only five smartphones available, the ten women worked in pairs.
“I would give them a production exercise for the week — like shooting the Mumbai monsoon or interviewing each other about who you were in the past and who you are today?”
As the women talked and filmed, the scope of the documentary expanded. Instead of making a five-minute film about sanitation, they wanted to document the unseen lives of ordinary women like themselves, sharing intimate moments, telling their stories. It became a 70-minute documentary that took six months to film and a year-and-a-half to edit.
The driving theme, says Gulati, is that even in their busy lives, these women could take time for themselves, build friendships and show that “having fun is not frivolous. That being mast [carefree] and claiming joy is cool. It is a radical act of resistance against oppressive structures.”
Darshana Mayekar, a toilet operator and a slum sanitation program leader, says the experience made her feel young again. “For 20 years, I have been busy raising a family and working. While making the film, I was able to live a little for myself. I am 50, but I feel 20,” she says.
Vaishali Mane, 35, a community worker who helps women access property rights, says being in front of the camera gave her the confidence to speak up — for herself and other women.
Then there’s the exhilarating story of Rehana Shaikh.During the months of filming, Shaikh was between jobs so instead earned money by doing tailoring – gluing tiny round mirrors to a dazzling yellow, silver and white colored sharara set of wide-legged pants, a tunic and stole.
When it was time to take a break, Sheetal Navle, a community health worker, filmed Shaikh going up a narrow set of stairs in her two-story home to her kitchenette, where she would prepare dinner for her husband and three children.
Rehana Shaikh has her star moment as she dances in her family’s kitchenette while preparing dinner.
NPR screengrab from Cool Ladies Club via Vimeo
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NPR screengrab from Cool Ladies Club via Vimeo
In the scene filmed, as she cooks, she plays a rambunctious Bollywood number on her phone and begins to dance.
“I had always dreamed of being a dancer on screen or on stage,” she says. “Growing up, I was not allowed to step out of the house even for dance classes.
“When the opportunity to learn filmmaking came, I said yes because I wanted to learn something new. My husband said no. He didn’t want me on screen.” She says he was uncomfortable about women speaking openly on camera.
“I convinced him by saying I will only be behind the camera,” she says, deciding to hold back on the details and negotiate with him over time.
Shaikh went back and forth on keeping the dance scene in the film, given her husband’s concerns. “The other women encouraged me, saying ‘don’t hide your passion.’ It became a way to inspire others to relieve their stress and dance.”
At the premiere, her husband and three children cheered and hooted.
She was thrilled. “They were telling others in the audience, ‘She is my wife, that’s my mother!”
Note: In addition to Shaikh, Navle, Mane and Mayekar, the Mumbai women who served as co-directors are Kavita Ghuge, Rohini Kadam, Kavita Khomne, Gauri Rane, Anjum Shaikh and Nazneen Siddiqui. They were paid $262 each for their work on the film as co-directors; potential income from distribution deals and ticket sales will be shared as they own joint copyright of the film with Shilpi Gulati, who was also a co-director, and CORO India. Since the premiere, there have been additional community screenings of Cool Ladies Club, and the documentary will be submitted to film festivals this summer.
Neha Bhatt is an award-winning journalist and author based in Delhi, India, reporting on public health, development and culture. Her work has appeared in The Guardian, The British Medical Journal, Stanford Social Innovation Review, The Globe and Mail, Devex and National Geographic. Connect with her on linkedin.com/in/nehabhattwrites
There’s nothing like taking a cool dip after a hot day, especially in L.A. summer weather. As peak swimming season kicks off, the Hansen Dam Aquatic Center pool in Lake View Terrace reopened Memorial Day on weekends after being closed for the season. It will be open daily for swim and play starting Saturday.
The popular San Fernando Valley aquatic center spans 40 acres that include a massive 1.5-acre pool lined with sand like a beach. There’s also a nine-acre lake used for fishing and nonmotorized boat activities.
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1. Jaylia Martinez, 5, left, is splashed with water by Elijah Santillana, 6. 2. The height chart for the water slide at the Hansen Dam Aquatic Center. 3. Visitors enjoy the pool at the Hansen Dam Aquatic Center. (Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)
“As one of the largest pools in the U.S., capacity [being] 3,500, we get so many people from all over the city, all over the county, people coming from out of state to this place,” Edwin Realegeno, aquatic facility manager of the center, said.
The Hansen Dam Aquatic Center pool was constructed in 1999 in a $15-million project to replace a previous pool in the area that was filled with silt.
Along the pool’s sandy shores, individuals can use the volleyball courts and teqball table. There are also different levels of shallow water for young swimmers and toddlers.
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Paty Santillana, a Van Nuys resident, has visited the Hansen Dam Aquatic Center for the last 15 years. “It’s perfect for little kids. I have a 5-year-old and also a 21-year-old, who we used to come here with,” Santillana said. She adds that her grandchildren are ecstatic every time she mentions a visit to the pool.
Idalia Fraga, a 12-year-old swimmer who has been to the pool twice since its reopening on Memorial Day weekend, said she enjoys the pool for its affordability.
“Prices are very cheap … it really helps those families who struggle,” Fraga said.
After some renovations to its large water slide that will be reopening Saturday, the pool is open to swimmers for an admission fee of $4 for adults and children 17 and under for $1. The center takes cash only.
The recreational lake is open year-round and is restocked with fish from the California Department of Fish and Wildlife.
Christopher Lopez relaxes by regularly fishing at the Hansen Dam Recreation Lake on the weekends.
(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)
Along the lake, people enjoy walking the surrounding grassy pathway and fishing. Christopher Lopez, a Pacoima resident, who also goes by the nickname Squid, goes to the lake for the latter.
Lopez started fishing nearly two months ago with his longtime friend from elementary school. “[It’s about] getting out of the house and having something to do on the weekends and being able to enjoy the day,” he said. “Spending our time out here I think is just a great addition.”
For Lopez, catching bass or trout and enjoying the occasional breeze is a perfect day to absorb the beauty of nature.
Lifeguards Israel Orozco, left, and Ian Zabel, right, watch the pool as visitors cool off at the Hansen Dam Aquatic Center.
(Kayla Bartkowski / Los Angeles Times)
The recreational center is hosting fundraising 1K and 5K runs on Sunday followed by a party with free access to the pool. Realegeno said the fundraiser is to help fund public pool centers across L.A. County and to promote swimming safety lessons.
Visit the recreation center’s website or Instagram page for more information as well as updates on pool or slide closures. Hours vary.
Robert Smigel attends Netflix’s “Happy Gilmore 2” New York Premiere at Jazz at Lincoln Center on July 21, 2025 in New York City. (Photo by Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images)
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Jamie McCarthy/Getty Images
This week’s show was recorded in Chicago with host Peter Sagal, judge and scorekeeper Alzo Slade, Not My Job guest Robert Smigel and panelists Josh Gondelman, Shantira Jackson, and Shane Torres. Click the audio link above to hear the whole show.
Who’s Alzo This Time
America’s Team; Siri Killed Romance; Doritos, Cheetos and Chex, Oh My!
Panel Questions
The Rise of Barmacies.
Bluff The Listener
Our panelists tell three stories about someone getting some game-changing advice, only one of which is true
Not My Job: Legendary comedy writer the hand behind Triumph the Insult Comic Dog Robert Smigel answers our questions about service animals
Peter talks to legendary comedy writer and the man behind Triumph, The Insult Comic Dog, Robert Smigel. Robert plays our game called, “Insult dog, meet SERVICE dog?” Three questions about service animals.
Panel Questions
Goodbye Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner; John Travolta Frolics!
Limericks
Alzo Slade reads three news-related limericks: The Drink Of the Summer; Apex Squirrels; A Meal Made For and From a Caveman
Lightning Fill In The Blank
All the news we couldn’t fit anywhere else
Predictions
Our panelists predict, after smart phones dropped the birth rate, what can we do to get it up?
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