Silly Tales From a Former Valley Girl

This might make me unpopular

2008-05-22T10:44:00.000-07:00

But sometimes I really like my job. Of course, given the chance I'd quit in a heartbeat to pursue my real passions- playing with furry animals and napping. But, while I still have to work, this place ain't so bad. As I type this I'm watching an agency producer teach my receptionist how to swing a golf club. Earlier this morning we watched as two puppies gleefully wrestled in the main lobby. (We are now a bring-your-dog-to-work company and it's fantastic.) Never underestimate the power of a Pug to reduce stress levels.

The best addition to our recent transition into the "fun office" is a Wii console with GUITAR HERO. On any given day you can walk by the large conference room and see anyone from the executive producer to the research assistant belting out Paranoid on a plastic guitar with the fervor of Tony Iommi. In retrospect, we should have bought this long ago. There's a marked change in the attitude of the office as a whole, and it's refreshing. For a couple years here it was grim. Nothing but doom and gloom, tension and drama and good ole' irrational tongue lashings. Just when I'd hit my limit on verbal abuse, things changed. People left the company and a new dynasty started. And it's a beautiful thing.

However, the commute still blows wad and I'm never going to get used to driving two to three hours a day in the 8th ring of hell, also known as the Los Angeles metro area. But soon, VERY SOON, I will be making that commute home, to our HOME, that we have waited so patiently for. And that is also, a beautiful thing.

The hits keep on comin'

2008-05-02T13:09:00.000-07:00

Last night on the way home from work I got a ticket for "obstructing traffic." I was following a HUMMER with black out windows on to the freeway on-ramp. Out of nowhere Arnold, I mean, the HUMMER owner, came to a screeching halt, leaving me right behind him with the tail end of my car in the intersection. Had I been able to see above, around or through his black out windows I might have stopped before following him through the intersection, but I didn't.

My car was sticking out in the intersection for all of 10 seconds and I was pulled over by a motorcycle cop. It was 6pm on Thursday night, arguably the height of rush hour traffic and the streets were gridlocked. But still this cop insisted on pulling me over, which took a good ten minutes to weave through the piled up cars and over to the right. By pulling me over we ended up blocking an entire lane of southbound traffic because there's "no stopping" between 4pm-7pm.

I rolled down my window and gave him my license & registration. He went back to his bike and I thought he was just going to run my license to make sure I wasn't an escaped convict or drug runner. But NOOOOOOOO! I look in my rear-view mirror and he's writing me a ticket! It took him a good 15 minutes to write the ticket. ( I dunno, maybe that's why he became a traffic cop? Because the only literature he can handle is Highlights magazine.) Those 15 minutes blocking the southbound lane made bad traffic even WORSE. But he was hell bent on giving me that ticket! Not the blacked out TANK in front of me.

He handed me the ticket, told me my court date and then said "be safe getting back on the freeway, ok?" Eat me.

I smiled and looked down at the ticket before driving away. The violation said "Obstructing Traffic/ Anti-gridlock Law." Hmmm, that's funny. Why you ask? Oh, well, there was a little protest yesterday that did a little obstructing of it's own. Maybe you heard about it?

Immigration & Labor March and Rally

To save you the time of reading the whole press release I'll just post some pertinent snippets.

"The Labor and Immigration March and Rally will take place on Thursday, May 1, 2008. Traffic impacts in Downtown Los Angeles may be felt on any street within the area bounded by Cesar Chavez Avenue to the north, Alameda Street to the east, Pico Boulevard to the south and Hoover Street to the west beginning at 11:00 am in the morning and lasting throughout the day"

"Due to all four marches occurring almost simultaneously, Downtown Los Angeles traffic will be severely impacted during the pm peak hours within the quadrants of Broadway from Pico Boulevard to Temple Street and 5th Street between Alameda Street and Figueroa Street."

"Many roadways in Downtown Los Angeles will be impacted for most of the afternoon."

"Traffic impacts will be severe in Downtown Los Angeles during the afternoon rush hour."

You get the gist. To give you an idea of how this little march affected us Angelenos I'll tell you a story. I work with a guy named Tim. It was Tim's birthday yesterday and all his buddies threw a dinner for him at a swanky restaurant in West Hollywood. Please note West Hollywood is NOWHERE NEAR DOWNTOWN. Tim left Santa Monica at 7:30 to be at his birthday dinner at 8:30. Long story short, (too late,) Tim ended up eating a meatloaf dinner for one from Boston Market, ALONE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, because the traffic was so snarled he couldn't get near the restaurant. He finally got home at 10:15 pm. Sounds like some people had obstructed traffic well past where they were supposed to be marching.

But, I'm the one who got a ticket and am forced to take time off work to appear in court AND pay a fine. On any other day this would have been a simple annoyance. But I find it deeply unfair, not to mention ironic that all I was trying to do was get home from WORK, and I am penalized for "obstructing traffic," while a rally full of people can obstruct traffic for hours with no consequence.

It's not that I have a problem with our rights to gather and protest peacefully, but again, I get a ticket for OBSTRUCTING TRAFFIC?????????? So absurd.

What a Week

2008-04-23T09:56:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, the first night of Passover, my little red fish died. He'd been struggling with fin rot for months and despite all my attempts to save him with meds, he passed on. I've been taking it particularly hard since he was my office buddy and we spent all day every day together. Some have said I spent more time with him than the Hubbie. Sad state of affairs, I know. Anyway, we buried him in my parents' backyard next to Mokey and Buzzie- our two deceased cats. Kind of twisted to bury a fish between two cats, but I'm pretty sure they're getting along fine. As I sit here at my desk, I'm looking at his little empty tank and I miss him terribly. As I've said before, he was hands down the most charismatic fish I've ever seen. He would actually swim up to me when I approached the tank and do a little dance. I'm thinking about getting another one but for now, I just need to mourn the passing of Mr. Foosh.

As if that wasn't enough, we got news that my grandma had a "mini" stroke a few weeks ago. This "mini" stroke has left her for the most part ok, except she gets confused easily and forgets simple things. Truthfully, I was worried that she drove herself to our Passover seder and I'm wondering how to approach the subject of her possibly giving up her license. She told the Hubbie that while driving over, she found herself in the oncoming traffic lane on Sunset Blvd and had to quickly move over to avoid an accident. Frightening. But, she is so bull-headed and stubborn, if I even bring up my fear of her driving she'll just stop telling us the truth of her situation.

She'll be 87 years old in June but just refuses to slow down. I took her to see the Young at Heart choir last Thursday and she thoroughly enjoyed it. I was a bit unsure since the choir, being octogenarians and all, aren't the best vocalists and they would be singing songs unfamiliar to her. But the show was unbelievably good and even my Bubbie knew most of the songs. They opened with the Rolling Stones classic You Can't Always Get What You Want and continued with songs by artists like Nirvana, Queen and Sonic Youth. Just fabulous and do I even have to say it brought me to tears?

Things with the house purchase have been a constant struggle. Our Realtor put it perfect. "You picked a great time to buy a house and a horrible time to get a loan." We originally wanted to put down 5%, (which in the Los Angeles market is A LOT,) but clearly, we're not the only ones who can only afford 5% down. And since the virtual collapse of the mortgage industry, who were busy writing (and forging,) loans to people who couldn't afford them, it has left only a few banks who will allow just 5% down to be buried in paperwork with those like us trying to get their loans. Loans that were underwritten last year in 3 days are now taking up to 4 weeks.

Long story short, when faced with possibly losing the house we decided to up the anti and put 10% down. Not only as a show of good faith to the banks and to get the process moving faster, but also to have more equity in the house and a lower monthly payment. This Friday will be 30 days since our accepted offer so we have to have something in place by then. God willing it will all be done by tomorrow and I can go back to fixating on packing and couch fabric.

This weekend I'm helping throw a baby shower for my friend Susan. My oldest friend Shari is due any minute now and another friend Lisa is due in a month. It is definitely the year of the baby. In keeping with my goals for this year, (new car, new house, get pregnant,) that's the last thing to check off my list. I'm petrified of getting pregnant and petrified of not being able to. I'm literally a ball of stress. Not exactly conducive to getting pregnant. So, I'm starting to track my ovulation and that way I think I'll feel a little more in control. The Hubbie has finally quit smoking for good and that was a big factor for me. So for now, I'm just taking it day by day and once we get settled in the house I think we'll start trying.

R.I.P Mr. Feesh.

Nope, still here

2008-03-26T15:01:00.000-07:00

Haven't fallen off the face of the earth, just been busy doing all those things I wished for in my last post. I actually did buy a car, and punch yer' Granny, ACTUALLY BOUGHT A HOUSE! For real this time, no backing out 10 days into escrow. No siree, the Hubbie and I truly bought a house and are set to move in 31 days. And when I say set to move I really mean get the keys, because before we actually move we want to do things like paint, redo closets, clean the carpets, order a couch and put in a new kitchen. I imagine we'll have have to forgo the last thing for the time being but I have high hopes the rest will get done.

All this excitement has been overshadowed by the fact that I've been knocking on death's door the last week with the worst flu to hit me since college. I had three days of fever followed by a hacking gasping cough and fluid filled lungs. Not sure if there's a correlation but the Hubbie has even agreed to quit smoking this weekend. I couldn't be happier. (Well, I could if I wasn't gasping for air.)

I knew this would be a big year and so far it hasn't disappointed. I'm also getting in lots of shows while I'm still a Hollywood resident. Saw Marilyn Manson last month, going to X in two weeks and Beirut at the end of May. I suppose I'll be an 818er by then.... wow..... weird. I made my first sacrifice as a homeowner yesterday, actually passing up an opportunity to buy Duran Duran tickets because they were ONE HUNDRED FREAKING DOLLARS A PIECE. My new budget just doesn't allow me the luxury of seeing my all time favorite band, especially if they're going to rape their fans like that. Grrrrrr.

Anyway, I can't wait to post pics of our weekend projects. Woohoo!

Confession

2008-01-18T10:38:00.000-08:00

Androgyny gets me hot. I can't think of anything sexier than a little gender blurring. First crush was Simon LeBon, (with Nick Rhodes a close second,) from Duran Duran. Here's me at eight years old... men in lipstick = yummy! Later came my Boy George obsession, (no need to elaborate there,) but I didn't know he was gay. I thought he was just cool! Not really sure I even knew what gay was at that point. When my parents had Peter and Gene over for dinner, I thought they were just good friends. HA!

In high school I went through my glam rock phase and no one did androgyny better than Sebastian Bach. I mean come on! He looked like a supermodel with that long blond hair and waifish figure, not to mention he sang like a chick. Then came the day when Kurt Cobain put on a dress and I nearly fainted. From LA Times interview with Kurt in 1993-

"Wearing a dress shows I can be as feminine as I want," he says, in a jab at the macho undercurrents that he detests in rock. "I'm a heterosexual . . . big deal. But if I was a homosexual, it wouldn't matter either."

Hot. And let's not forget the eyeliner.

In college I discovered just how great David Bowie is, beyond his radio hits. When I think about what it must have been like to see Ziggy Stardust live, it makes me shudder. Not only was he a pioneer in glam, along with Marc Bolan and Alice Cooper, he has those 2 different colored eyes which make him the perfect weirdo package.

This brings us to the nineties where I fell in love with Twiggy and Marilyn Manson. The mix of the grotesque and cross dressing was the perfect sexual and musical outlet I was looking for. They were shocking, they were homoerotic, they were the filthier version of Jagger and Richards, and they were beautiful to me. I knew what they were doing wasn't exactly original but it didn't matter, I had found my bad boy crush. It's rumored that Twiggy built his look based on Courtney Love's "kinderwhore" look of barrettes and little girl dresses juxtaposed with torn fishnets and smeared red lipstick. Looking at the photo below, it's hard to argue that wasn't the case. Of course it goes without saying I love Hole as well.

The pattern here seems simple right? Men who dress like women are my weakness. That's what I thought too until I saw my first episode of The L Word. I realize I'm probably the last person on earth to see this show as it's entering it's fifth season but, truthfully, I was not in the least bit interested in a soapy lesbo drama. A soapy gay male drama is more my speed. Say, one starring Gale Harold called Queer As Folk, also known as the sexiest show ever to air on television! But I digress.

I watched one episode of the L word and now I'm going to have to go out and rent the first four seasons because of this woman. I mean, seriously, she is so breathtaking it's hard to focus on what the characters are saying. I decided to do a little research on her and found this quote from an article on her in the NY Times.
"In ripped stovepipe jeans and velvet Gucci jacket, which both cling to her angular frame like a second skin, Ms. Moennig, who possesses the bone structure and metabolism of a gazelle, an angelic sulk and a smoker's cough (her latest role demands a few antsy puffs), does not so much bend as transcend gender."

I couldn't have said it better myself. She actually does transcend gender. Or, she's the perfect mix of both? Not sure yet but I officially have a new crush.

New Year, New News

2008-01-17T10:26:00.000-08:00

I hit a blooging slump but am forcing myself to update. I started this blog so to keep a diary and remember my adventures with some detail, but I'll be darned if I can't think of where to start. Let's see- work drama. Ok. My boss quit and our payroll company went belly up. I've heard more sob stories in the last week than I have in four years working here. Today a guy called saying he was $1,000 overdrawn and couldn't afford to buy groceries FOR HIS KID. I'm worried about not getting my w2 in the mail, or worse, getting it and finding out they actually didn't pay my taxes. Word on the street is the IRS is their biggest creditor.

We spent five days back east with the family for Christmas and celebrated my father in law's 60th birthday. The whole extended family was there and we spent three nights together just visiting and eating. As an only child I can't tell you how great it is to sit at a table with fifteen relatives all talking and laughing. Everyone gets along so well, and there's no arguing like there is at most of our family functions. In fact, this year I had to tell my mom there would be no discussion of politics whatsoever at the Thanksgiving table. I was not joking, it would actually ruin the holiday. Speaking of which, my mom joined the Republican Womens Club (or whatever they call it,) which is what prompted me to lay down the law. I'm not sure where she took a turn but this is a woman who burned her bra and was a single parent! Now she's going to hear Mitt Romney speak. *sigh* Here's where I fall according to an online quiz.

78% John Edwards
76% Barack Obama
73% Hillary Clinton
70% Bill Richardson
69% Chris Dodd
66% Joe Biden
60% Mike Gravel
56% Dennis Kucinich
46% Tom Tancredo
42% Rudy Giuliani
39% Mitt Romney
30% John McCain
30% Fred Thompson
27% Mike Huckabee
17% Ron Paul

2008 Presidential Candidatehttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif Matching Quiz

Funny, I thought I was more of a Joe Biden kinda gal.

This has been a great month for food so far. We spent New Years at Morton's Steakhouse with Clint, Callie and Clint's brother from Texas. To say we indulged is an understatement. We were actually there for the stroke of midnight, and rang in the new year stuffed with meat, potatoes and way too much wine. We were home in bed (with heartburn) by 1. Not the most outrageous night but a blast nonetheless. Callie's birthday came last week so we splurged on a trip to Osteria Mozza, a Mario Batali restaurant. We went with the pasta tasting menu with complimenting wines. My two favorite dishes were vegetarian if you can believe it, and one of them had mushrooms in it! That is testament to Mario's recipes; if he can get me to enjoy mushrooms, we should send him to the middle east!

The hubbie and I have been bringing up the word baby more and more often. I'm officially off the pill and trying to gear up my body by taking prenatal vitamins, but we have some issues to work out as well. It's obviously a huge decision and one that shouldn't be rushed, but at the same time I'm so afraid of not being able to conceive, or having problems. I'm so ready for a change I think I'm at the point where I'll take anything. I'm in the same exact place I was last year. Nothing at all is different. Same stupid apartment, same crappy car, same job (albeit without the she-devil,) same problems, same, same, same. The trip to Argentina was a great diversion and unforgettable experience, but I'm sick of feeling like my life is a broken record. I didn't even make any new years resolutions this year; how pathetic is that? And really, it's because I just don't give a damn.

Change. Something, anything. I really want a new car. Or a new used car. Can that be a new years resolution????

Geez, this post turned into Bababadnews. Hopefully the next one will be back to my funny sarcastic self.

GO SEE THIS MOVIE

2007-12-08T23:47:00.000-08:00

SERIOUSLY, GO SEE THIS MOVIE. I never go to movies on a Saturday night. ESPECIALLY during the holidays. This was worth every single penny, parking nightmare and crowd.

This Day In History

2007-12-07T13:35:00.000-08:00

Sixty-six years ago today, Pearl Harbor was attacked. In total, 2,403 people were killed, mostly in the first fifteen minutes. They say cause of death for the majority of soldiers was suffocation or drowning. Today there are memorials across the nation honoring those who served and to remember the attack that entered us into WWII.

Sixty-six years ago today was also my grandma's cousin Ethel's wedding day. As they prepared for the wedding, fussing over dresses and hair, flowers and lipstick, my grandfather had the radio on and tried to tell the group what was happening. No one would listen. As my grandma put it, "Hawaii might as well have been on the moon. We were so isolated then. Just so sheltered."

My grandfather understood the depth of the attack, and knew right away we'd enter the war. He told my grandmother he had to enlist. She just looked at him like he was exaggerating and continued fussing with the girls. Poor Ethel, talk about someone raining on your parade.

By the time the ceremony finished, it was the only topic of conversation. All the young men in the family gathered around the table discussing what branch of service they would enter. No one wanted to be drafted and left without a choice.

The women tried to make the best of the celebration but couldn't ignore the cloud over the festivities. Definitely NOT your typical Jewish wedding filled with music and dancing til' the wee hours. The bride and groom left on their honeymoon as planned, but nothing was the same after their return. There would be rationing and coupons, women in the workforce, internment camps and air raid drills.

My grandfather joined the air force and was stationed in Italy. His cousin joined too and eventually flew B-52 bombers. My grandma said it was hard being away from him so long, but most of the women she knew had a husband stationed overseas. They banded together and watched after one another. Ahhh, the strength of women in numbers! I don't know much about my grandpa's time in Italy except my grandma said he enjoyed the country and the food. (Go figure.)

She also said something a few months back that stunned me silent. Before we decided to go to Argentina we planned on going to Italy. My grandma, completely off-handed says, "well, if you see anyone that resembles your grandfather, don't be surprised!"

WHAT??? EEEW. WHAT???? OH GROSS. (*twitch and shudder.*)

I shouldn't have done this but I asked, "You mean, he wasn't faithful?"

She said, "Sweetie, he was gone two years. I'm no dope. In those days you turned the other cheek and didn't discuss it. As long as he came home healthy, that's all I cared about."

And to think people still dismiss the elderly, when they have such gems like this story to share!

My Kinda McRib

2007-12-06T16:04:00.000-08:00

In Slash's book he talks about how he fell in love with the McDonald's McRib sandwich and it became his guilty pleasure. I'm sure the low price played into the affair but he continued to eat them well after he became successful. Even becoming somewhat of a McRib connoisseur, citing a time when he found a McDonald's in Europe but was deeply disappointed when the McRib tasted nothing like it's American counterpart. When I was reading about how he'd have a McRib sandwich for breakfast before practice I nearly gagged. I have never tried the McRib for the simple fact that the meat is chopped and formed to make it look like it still has a bone in it. (Shudder.)

However, this is not to say I don't love ribs. Particularly Mr. Cecil's Ribs. I know this might make me somewhat of an outcast in foodie circles but I can say with all honesty, they are the best ribs I've ever had. And I grew up going to Texas annually until I was 17. I'm hardly the barbecue novice although I'm sure there are many out there with more experience than me.

Mr. Cecil's is technically a chain and has that polished Disneyland look; with train models in the window and framed blown up black and white photos on the walls. BUT, they have a full bar and cloth napkins, so it's just that kinda place. (Organic chicken, iceberg lettuce wedge, chips and salsa appetizer kind of place.) Real BBQ fanatics should not let the decor deter them from the best baby back ribs in the valley.

Hubbie and I spent another Sunday house hunting, and decided to spend another Sunday lunch at Mr. Cecil's. I ordered a whole rack of baby back ribs, and embarrassingly, ate all but three. A whole rack comes with two sides and I chose the coleslaw (as always) and cornbread. The coleslaw is a bit creamier than I prefer but delicious nonetheless. And it doesn't suffer the sogginess that is usual when it's drenched in dressing. Hubbie had the pulled pork sandwich and hush puppies. He hates to eat meat off the bone and particularly hates ribs. But once he tried one of mine he was a convert. No fat, no gristle and no weird stringy vein-y things. Just meat that falls off the bone. And like the menu says, try a bite without sauce first. You'll be amazed at how smokey and flavorful they are.

Should we move to this part of the valley I better get my butt on a treadmill because I'll turn into a cow from eating here too often. The prices can seem steep but trust me, when you see the portion size and the quality of meat, it's worth every penny!

Martha Stewart Rules

2007-12-06T12:44:00.001-08:00

How much do I love Martha Stewart? For one, I heard on Howard Stern the other day that she hated the tree in the Sirius lobby, so she came in with her "team" over the weekend and revamped it- Martha style. She even made a cookie ornament of Howard and Beth. She's just so cheesy and over the top sometimes but how can you not adore her?

Although I don't think I'll ever be the kind of person to bake pies with eggs laid by my hens and apples from my orchard, I really do appreciate her Everyday FOOD recipes. They're just snazzy enough to make you feel like a chef, yet easy and accessible to the average Jane. Especially THIS average Jane who doesn't get home til' 7:30 at night and the only prepping I can stand before dinner is uncorking the wine.

As I said before I bought some ground lamb and was looking for a recipe. I chose this one from Martha's website and it was a knock out. Only problem was I overdid it on the salt. And by overdid it I mean I used salt when I really didn't need to. The hummus, lamb and artichoke hearts have enough flavor on their own. We ate the leftovers for dinner last night, (I made four pizzas total,) and they reheat beautifully. If you're looking for a quick Mediterranean weeknight meal, this one is for you. I served it with a spinach salad with walnuts, tossed in Giada's dressing. Finally all these hours of watching Food Network are paying off.

Lamb Pita Pizzas

Ingredients

Serves 4

4 regular-size (6-inch) pitas, split
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 containers (8 ounces each) store-bought hummus (1 1/2 cups)
2 red bell peppers (ribs and seeds removed), thinly sliced
1 can (14 ounces) artichoke hearts in water, rinsed, squeezed dry, and quartered
1/2 pound ground lamb or beef
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
Lemon wedges

Directions

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Arrange pita halves, cut side up, on two baking sheets; brush with oil.
Spread pitas with hummus; top with peppers, artichoke hearts, and lamb. Season with salt and pepper.
Bake until pitas are golden and crisp and lamb is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Sprinkle with parsley; serve with lemon wedges.

Assembled and ready to throw in the oven!
Finished product. Look how pretty!
In other news, I just found out that two of my bridesmaids are pregnant. One of the girls I've known since the ninth grade, and to picture her as a mom just makes me gush. In fact, she was always the "mom" of the group. She always drove, always had lunch money if one of us didn't, always tried to keep us out of trouble and was the first person to give you a hug if you were having a bad day. Most definitely one of the most nurturing people I've ever met. When we were in Vegas for my bachelorette, she was the one shoving vitamin C and water down our throats. Yep, she's gonna be a great mom.

I just recently went through a pregnancy scare and I have to admit, it was really freaky. On one hand I was terrified that I wasn't ready. We'd drank wine the whole time in Argentina and we are no closer to having a house. Yet, the other part of me almost felt relieved to be shoved into the situation where I couldn't obsess about it. In other words, I knew I'd keep it either way, so if I was indeed pregnant, so be it! Turns out I wasn't but I'm having some ovulation issues. I had to go to the doctor to get a shot of hormones to induce my period. Not pleasant. As I told my husband this morning, it feels like Dick Cheney shot me in the a**. I can't help but be paranoid there's something wrong with my plumbing but my doctor assured me skipping a period is really common. Especially right after discontinuing the pill.

I think 2008 will be huge for us. This year was pretty uneventful short of the trip to Argentina. I really hope to be in a home and pregnant next year.

(Did you hear that Santa?)

More Culinary Adventures

2007-11-27T08:16:00.000-08:00

My contribution to the Thanksgiving meal this year was parmesan stuffed dates wrapped in bacon. I know that sounds like a strange combo at first but let me tell you, they were a big hit. I first tried these at a restaurant called AOC a few years ago and they were quite the novelty. Now it seems wherever you turn there's someone suggesting them as an appetizer. In one week I heard them discussed on Martha Stewart radio and Dave Leiberman's show on Food Network.

They couldn't be easier to prepare and make a great holiday starter. Everybody loves bacon and they only take ten minutes to cook! I used parmesan but I've seen recipes where blue cheese, ricotta or even an almond is stuffed in the date. I think a hard cheese like parmesan or a sheep's milk is easier to work with and doesn't run the risk of melted cheese running out of the date.

Here's how easy it is:

Stuff each pitted date with a small piece of cheese and wrap it in a half a slice of bacon. Place dates on a baking sheet seam side down. (Don't use thick cut bacon since it takes longer to brown.) Bake dates for 5 minutes at 400 degrees, roll them over and bake another 5 minutes until the bacon is crisp. And voila! Feel free to prep them a day ahead of time and just pop in the oven when guests arrive.

Last night I used the rest of the herbs my friend brought back from Italy to make a meat sauce. It turned out just ok, but next time I won't use such lean meat. All I had on hand was 15% ground beef and it was a little too tough/chewy. My mom told me my Italian grandmother used 20% ground chuck for her meatballs so I'll try that next time. I served it over penne with fresh parmesan and Hubbie gobbled it up, but I know I can do better! I've been trying to spice up our meals lately which inspired me to buy ground lamb at the market. I'd love to hear if anyone has any suggestions on what to do with it. I was thinking something along the lines of a greek meat loaf but I'm open to anything.

This weekend the girls and I are going to bottle our homemade limoncello to give as Christmas gifts. You can see how we did it, (and look at drunken photos of my friends,) here. Limoncello is delicious mixed with sparkling wine, club soda or just on it's own over ice. If you'd like to make your own, click here.

I have to say I'm harboring some disappointment that I'm spending another holiday season in our tiny apartment. Last year I was convinced we'd be in a home by now, and here we are, hanging a wreath on the crappy metal gate that serves as our front door. No room for a tree, no space for a party, no fireplace or mantle. *SIGH* Not to mention it's getting really old eating dinner hunched over the coffee table. It's getting even older trying to maneuver in our tiny bathroom. If it's just me and the cat in there it's too crowded. So, I'll end this post with a positive affirmation that I WILL be in a home next year, even if it means we're moving in with one of you!

Generation Gap

2007-11-14T15:34:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my grandma called me at work. This is roughly how the conversation went.

Me: "Hello?"

Her: "You know, we need to talk. We have to have a sit down. I realize you're never going to be like me. You don't push hard enough. You are too laid back and you will never get anywhere with that attitude. See, I don't take no for an answer."

Me: "Bubbie, what on earth are you talking about?"

Her: "I found the perfect house for you and you just need to make an offer on it and you'll get it."

Me: "Are you talking about the bank owned dump that I already told you we aren't interested in?"

Her: "You see! You just don't get it. This is an opportunity! It's BEAUTIFUL and in a great neighborhood. The agent said the bank is anxious to get it sold!"

Me: "I'm sure they are, it's been on the market 3 months. But I already told you we are not interested in that house and are not in a position to buy a foreclosure that needs all of that work."

Her: "You know! You just don't understand. You aren't SMART like me. You can't see what a good investment is!"

Me: "I understand where you're..."

Her: "Nevermind I have to go!!!"

And with that she hung up saying she had to go meet her friends for a card game. My face was hot with anger. I can't tell you how mad it makes me when she calls and lectures me, and when I try and tell her why whatever it is she's suggesting isn't right for us, she gets mad and insinuates I'm an idiot.

This morning I called her and said very calmly that I'd prefer she not call me with any more real estate advice, and to leave the house hunt to Hubbie & I and our agent. She got defensive and then out of the clear blue sky started in on me saying she's tired of everyone in this family thinking she's a stupid zombie who has no thoughts in her head.

Huh???

"I'm eighty six years old and I have a lot more experience than you but if you don't want to hear it that's fine! You do it your way! I won't mention any more houses ok???"

Yikes. She just lost it. The tirade progressed to her yelling at me that she can't keep up with conversations when we get together and she has "no idea what we are all talking about" when the family is sitting around chatting. She made sure to ask me if I was bringing pictures from Argentina to Thanksgiving dinner so she would have something to do while we all talked. Since, she "never has a clue" what we're discussing.

"Thank GOD for my friends. This just isn't my world. You all talk so fast and when I ask anyone to clarify I get yelled at! I just don't know what I'd do without my friends because THEY love me and THEY enjoy my company!"

I'm just at a loss. Now I'm wracked with guilt and utterly baffled that she feels she can't keep up with the conversation. We're all speaking English. She has a hearing aid, although she doesn't always wear it, but is that my fault? I feel like she was a volcano overflowing with resentment and I just happened to be in the path of the lava.

I asked her why she doesn't invite one of her friends to Thanksgiving dinner but she said they would all be with their own families, "who enjoy their company!" I guess this has been festering a while. I don't know what to do to make it better. I don't know how to include her more in conversations, especially since my mom is the impatient one and snaps if my grandma tries to add her two cents. Truthfully, I think today's outburst was directed at my mom, but I got the hit since I triggered the outburst.

Ugh. Sigh. Ok, so I guess the best I can do is talk slowly with her and try not to lose it when she says, "I found the perfect house for you," and it turns out to be that freaking dump foreclosure up the hill that we can't afford. One week til Thanksgiving. Enough time for me to figure out some topics she'd be interested in.

Why I LOVE Los Angeles

2007-11-13T16:15:00.000-08:00

No, you read that right. I know this blog is filled with complaints about my crowded, vapid city but every once in a while I just fall in love with her. Not even the smog, traffic, graffiti or writers strike could get me down this week. Wanna know why?

I met these three people in the last five days.

Slash

Matt Sorum

Courtney Taylor

Call me a star f*cker, I don't care. What's the point of living in this town if you don't enjoy it's fringe benefits??? As I said before, I attended the book signing for Slash's new autobiography at the Whiskey a Go Go. After being shoved through the line for signatures I finally got to make eye contact with the man I swore I'd marry if I got the chance to meet him. Well there I was, eye to eye, mano y mano and I froze. He looked up at me and I said, "I've been a fan for 20 years!" He said, "Wow, thanks so much." I said, "Umm, ok, errrrr, hmmmm, well ok, ummm I love you!!!!" and practically ran away.

Oh jebus. That was not at all what I wanted to say. I'm thirty freaking three years old; I couldn't be a little more sexy? Subdued even? I guess his wife sitting next to him freaked me out a little.

*Note to book publicists when you're hosting a signing of a book written by a ROCK STAR. Tell them to leave their wives at home, so us thirty-something married women can come out and wait in line for an hour to bat our eyelashes at them for eight seconds without feeling like we're going to get a knuckle sandwich. I still have a cigarette butt this man spit out of his mouth during a concert in 1991. I keep it in a baggy with my ticket stub in my "memory" box. I realize I may sound like a psychopath to some of you, but really, I'm just a good old rock n' roll fan. (Who was sixteen at the time of the concert and all I cared about was I was holding a memento that Slash had wrapped his lips around. Yes I realize in retrospect, it's a little odd that I've hung on to it this long, but what are memory boxes for, if not to look back and remember what a nerd you were???)

Saturday night we headed to a bar for a friend's birthday, and who walks in? Matt Sorum. This will be my second time running in to him in two months! Last time was in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport so a bar is a bit more likely, but with Velvet Revolver on tour, it's still quite a coincidence. I went over and said hello and introduced him to the girls I was with. He was gracious and sweet and talked us up for at least fifteen minutes, excusing himself by saying, "I should get back to my date now. I don't want her to get the wrong idea." Awww, cute! Again, how much do I love L.A right now? Especially when we topped off that night at The Rainbow Room for last call, surrounded by every long-haired hescher in the Thirty Mile Zone.

But the piece de resistance had to have been last night, where Hubbie and I along with two friends attended the screening of Amazing Journey: The Story of The Who, hosted by Roger Daltrey. As if that wasn't cool enough, following the movie two members of the Dandy Warhols played a quick acoustic set of Who songs. I was in hog heaven. My mom raised me on The Who and as far as I'm concerned, TOMMY is one of the best albums of all time. I was really touched by the portrayal of Keith Moon, in that he seemed just like a big kid who was somewhat lost in the "business" of being a star. Of course he had obvious drug and alcohol addictions, but there seemed to be a looming child-like innocence about him still. A sense that he really didn't know what he was doing was actually dangerous. The movie is a must see for any Who fans and is available at Amazon. I'm so glad I got the chance to see it in a theater though with good quality sound. I think I had the chills for a good hour.

We hit the bar after Brent and Courtney played and lucky for us, they were still hanging out. Here's a pic of me and Courtney, singer of the Dandy Warhols. Look at the smile on my face. I was shaking like a leaf I was so excited. After my friend snapped the pic we casually strolled in the other room and jumped up and down like maniacs screaming, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it," while Joy Division played in the background. I'd say it was a PERFECT Los Angeles evening.

Define Irony

2007-11-07T15:32:00.000-08:00

My husband said to me point blank that I'm way to stressed out. I decided to take action about it and found a local Buddhist meditation class offered at the Beverly Hills library. In theory, the distance from my work to the class should have taken about 30 minutes. In Los Angeles, you can kiss any hope of getting anywhere in a reasonable amount of time goodbye.

I commute an hour to an hour and a half to work each way. I need to take this class because there are times where I really think I'm going to lose my mind. More than once I've been stuck in traffic and I can actually feel my heart beating in my head. Thank GOD for the Howard Stern show because otherwise I'd be a raving lunatic. Nevertheless, Howard can not calm me down 100% of the time, and therefore I had high hopes that this class would teach me to go to a "happy place" and relieve some of my stress.

Class started at 7pm and I left work at 6:05pm on the dot. And lo and behold I got stuck in gridlock traffic. So there I am, feeling my blood pressure rise as my breathing becomes labored, because I'm stressed out that I won't make it on time to my de-stressing meditation class.

I ended up pulling into the library on two wheels, ran down two flights of steps, across a courtyard and up another flight of steps to get to the door. I missed it. It had already begun. Great, now I get to get back in the car and drive another hour home, SANS meditation. Sigh.

Good news is tonight I'm going to a definite stress reliever. I'm going to Slash's book signing at the Whiskey a Go Go. I've waited twenty years to meet this man and tonight is my night! I told Hubbie not to wait up in case I decide to run off with my first true love. Now I just have to figure out what to say.

Wish me luck!

I really don't have an excuse

2007-10-30T17:00:00.000-07:00

Maybe I'm overwhelmed? Trying to blog about a two week vacation, a birthday and a Halloween outing is just too much for me right now. All I can say is, all three were fantastic good times.

Argentina is a beautiful country filled with real natural wonders. The food was much better than I could have imagined and my only regret is that we couldn't stay longer. We loaded our suitcases up with as much wine and dulce de leche as we could carry and have only touched one bottle of Malbec. Looking forward to another!

The highlight of my trip is still a toss up between hiking along Perito Moreno glacier and walking with penguins. Both took my breath away. Both made me so grateful I was one of few who would get to experience it. Although we were up by 7:00 a.m practically every morning, I consider it one of the best vacations I've had. Next one however will involve lots of laying around doing nothing.

Last Thursday was my birthday. The big 33. Eh, what did I expect right? I find I'm always a bit disappointed on my birthday. It's always anticlimactic somehow and I usually end up crying for no reason. It's just me and I have to accept it. All of my friends called me and Hubbie offered to take me to dinner. He brought home flowers and a HUGE bat balloon. (I love bats.) But I still had a case of the ho hums. That is until Hubbie dragged me out to our local watering hole, where we met up with some friends and had some drinks. I was glad I got out of the house, (besides going to work,) even if it was just for a cocktail or two.

One of these years I swear I'll get by without crying. It's been this way since High School. I'm always gripped with a terror of getting older. A fear that I'm wasting time and I should be something or be somewhere else by now. And worst of all, the whole facing death part. I know that sounds extreme for a 33 year old, but I've been thinking about death since a child. And with every year, it becomes more and more of a reality. When I think long and hard about it, I wonder if it's actually death, or old age that gives me the willies. Combination of both maybe?

MOVING ALONG.

The real excitement came Saturday night where, unbeknownst to me, Hubbie had rented a limo to shuttle all of our friends out for a Halloween night. We were all in costume and headed to a whiskey bar downtown. It's actually a really great place and I plan on going back again when it's not filled with holiday revelers. Check it out if you live in the hood.

I'm not gonna lie. Coming back to work blows wad. To go from the wild blue yonder to sitting at a desk for ten hours straight really stinks. It's going to take me some time to get used to it again. My attention span is all over the place and my motivation level is, well, zilch. Hope to get back in the swing of things before the holidays.

Geez, can you believe it's almost November???!!!!

I'm baaaaaack!!

2007-10-22T16:42:00.000-07:00

Flights to and within Argentina: $1,000.00.
Various hotels, motels and cabins for two weeks: $1,500.00.
Van rental to explore the coast of Patagonia: $330.00.

Hiking along the side of a glacier, walking up to penguins, practically touching a whale, washing down a plate of Patagonian lamb with a glass of Malbec, experiencing the finest hotel in South America and spending 12 unforgettable days with close friends: PRICELESS.

We got home on Saturday afternoon. I'm still a bit jet-lagged but can't wait to post pictures. It was an adventure and a half. The food, sights, people, scenery and weather were all fantastic. I'm probably going to have to post in sections because it's too much to absorb at once.

Knowing me, food will be first, followed by the sights and then the goofy friend pics. Stay tuned. Just wanted to check in and let ya'll know I made it back.

Ciao!

Air Sick

2007-09-30T22:40:00.002-07:00

The other night I had the anxiety attack I was expecting. Except it came six days too early. I hate to fly. Actually let me re-phrase that. I abhor flying. To the extent that I usually have to be drugged and drunk to take a one hour flight to visit my best friend in San Francisco. (Although, she no longer lives there; she's now a nomad in South America with her husband.) Which brings me to my point.

To fly one hour to San Francisco was a chore. To fly five hours to visit my in-laws is a nightmare. (Not to see them! Just the flight getting there.) The longest I've flown was to France, which was a five and a half hour flight to D.C with a layover, followed by a six and a half hour flight to Paris. It was hell.

This coming Saturday, I'm facing a four and a half hour flight to Atlanta with a layover, followed by an ELEVEN HOUR FLIGHT to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Yes, I know I signed up for this vacation with enthusiasm. Yes, I know I'm safer on a plane than in a car/bus/ train/ bike/ unicycle. Please, don't tell me the statistics. I know them and it doesn't help.

It's an irrational fear. So I decided mid-breakdown to analyze it and see what exactly was causing the panic. Here's what I figured out, after crying for what seemed like hours.

I'm claustrophobic. I'm afraid of heights. (I also might be a bit of a control freak.) These three issues I've had all my life. Ok, now that we have that down; what does a flight entail? Being cramped in a seat, (with no way to exit,) being at least THIRTY THOUSAND FEET OFF THE GROUND, and in the hand of a pilot who I've never met. (Who I haven't personally given a breathalyzer test.)

I made myself try and get to the bottom of it. I tried to talk myself out of the "attack" by recalling memories of flying to Texas every year as a kid to visit relatives. Most of the time I was alone and escorted only by the stewards. (When I was a kid your relative/friend/parent could drop you off AT THE GATE! And you would be greeted AT THE GATE by your relative/friend/parent.) In retrospect, that was really comforting to get off the plane and have your loved one waiting for you. But I digress.

What I realized in this state of panic was that flying combines my three internal fears- fear of heights, claustrophobia and loss of control. The latter, I need to work on the most. And I will work on all of them in the future. But for now, I need to get myself on this friggin' plane.

When Hubbie and I were honeymooning we went to Oahu and Maui. At the airport in Oahu, while we were ready to board our flight to Maui I had the same panic attack. I went to the bathroom and sobbed in the stall. I actually started to figure out a plan to take a boat, and meet Hubbie in Maui a few hours later. To say I reluctantly got on that plane is an understatement. Thank you zanax.

I was able to calm myself down the other night, but now I'm scared for Saturday morning. I need to get on this plane. In fact, I need to get on the three flights we have booked inside Argentina, without blubbering in the bathroom or considering a bus. I envy those who fly without fear. (Tuna Girl- how the hell does your husband do it????????!!!!!!)

I'm not sure why I'm even writing this except that I've always written down my fears. I've kept a diary since I was eight years old and I believe writing is cathartic- and therefore maybe I can purge the anxiety I feel now. Rather than in the bathroom stall at LAX.

A friend of mine survived a plane crash in the Bahamas. She not only survived, but saved an infant on board and kept her afloat in the water before they were rescued. She is able to get on a plane now. If she can, so can I. Right?

If anyone has any comforting words, I'd appreciate them. I know it seems silly but I need to hear anything you've got. In the meantime, I'm going to work on the 'control issue' I have. I know I'm embarking on an amazing journey, filled with glaciers and penguins and whales, OH MY! So the flights are worth it.

And I'll come home with amazing pictures too! =)

I Miss My FRIEND

2007-09-27T19:50:00.001-07:00

Back in 1999 I was the Casting Assistant on a TV show called Strip Poker. It was a game show for USA Network that was as sleazy as the title implies. My job basically was to recruit twenty-somethings to appear on a show that required them to disrobe every time they lost a hand. Just like the real Strip Poker that we all played in college, except without the booze.

In a nutshell as the Casting Assistant, I called people in and quizzed them on poker skills. Then I would ask them to strip provocatively, (in a freezing sound stage,) to see if they had the right "charisma" to appear on the show. (It was a nightmare.)

The show, I might add paid $1,000.00 TOPS. We're talking LOW-BUDGET. Desperate Actress Central!

Since there is no nudity allowed on USA Network, our wardrobe stylist would have to come up with elaborate slutty outfits for the ladies. She'd have to provide enough layers to guarantee our contestants wouldn't show anything obscene, yet still look "sexy and provocative" for the show to succeed. She hated her job.

(Wouldn't you?)

She went on to design handbags that doubled as dog carriers and made a fortune. (Typical L.A.)

The show lasted two seasons before it was canned. Anyway, getting to my point.

One day I was grazing the craft service table, cursing the fact that there was only one bagel left. And it was POPPY SEED. Uuuuugggggggghhhhhhh. In walks the cutest guy I'd seen in a long time. He was in and out in a matter of seconds.

Later in the day, as I'm fully immersed in work my friend Claudia comes up to me and says, "Sam! This is Thor, he's replacing me. I'm moving on to another show." He was dreamy. He was the same guy I saw briefly at the craft service table! Here was my chance!

What did I say you ask????

"Thor??? Your name is Thor!! LIKE, that's so rad. LIKE, the GOD OF THUNDER??? Right on!" As if he hadn't heard that before. Good job Valley Girl. (sigh.) I was twenty-four with a college education and yet somehow ridiculously reverted back to 8th grade conversation.

He said, "Yeah, my name is Thor." (You idiot. What's the matter with you?)

I was SMITTEN. Had a crush on him for the next three days. I was convinced I'd win him over, even after my stupid god-of-thunder comment. I turned on the charm, put on the moves and wore my cutest outfits. Then I found out he was gay.

I remember thinking to myself, "WHAT??? SERIOUSLY??? NO WAY!!!!!!"

THEN, it was obvious. THEN, we started to get to know each other. Then, we became close. I don't know why I didn't catch the gay-vibe right away and really, who cares.

Thor became the friend I needed. He was enough removed from my former life to have perspective, yet involved enough to know the truth. I know that sounds vague to those of you who are new readers but he'll understand.

New Year's Eve of 1999/2000 I went to a party with Thor and Jarin as my dates. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world; with not one, but TWO dates to a New Year's party. Yes they were gay, and it was pretty much guaranteed I wasn't going to be getting any action that night, but I was thrilled to have two hot guys by my side to ring in the millennium.

Thor, Jarin and I made a resolution to meet "the one" in the year 2000. Wouldn't you know it? Thor and I both met our partners in February.

Five years later Thor would be a groomsman in my wedding. (We debated whether he should be a bridesmaid or groomsman because TECHNICALLY he's on my side, but we both decided he'd be more comfortable in a suit than a strapless dress.)

Eight years later, despite him living in London, despite us only being able to talk occasionally, despite he and I being in completely different living situations, we're still close. We're still the same two people that hit it off immediately.

We talked last week for a while and it was a wake up call. I miss my friend. I'm sad he's in the UK and not here. When I was fired from my job he was the one to buy me too many apple martinis at the Cobalt Cafe. When I had no date for New Year's he stepped up. When I needed to be slapped into reality, he was there to guide me. I miss him. I miss working with him. I miss having a drink with him.

My mom misses him too. (My mom adopted Thor as her own years ago, so, I guess that might make us brother and sister by now.)

I miss my friend. But I'm glad the geographical distance hasn't changed who we are together.

I miss you, my friend.

Two Years Ago Today

2007-09-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

Two years ago today, I woke up in the bridal suite at the Bel Age and took a deep breath as I walked over to the window to check the weather. (Overcast. Uh oh.)

Two years ago today, I took a luxurious bubble bath while Sissy answered the barrage of phone calls coming in. I think at one point she was on a land line, cell phone and walkie talkie simultaneously. (Thank you Sissy.)

Two years ago today, all my bridesmaids showed up on time for their hair and makeup appointments in the sitting room, while I just tried to relax.

Two years ago today, I put on my wedding dress for the first time since the last alteration, looked in the mirror and noticed it was pressed wrong; and therefore way too long.

Two years ago today, I realized there wasn't sh*t I could do about it. I would step on the dress the entire night.

Two years ago today, I went down to meet you for pictures before the ceremony, and couldn't wait for you to see me in my dress.

Two years ago today, I was laughing at the booger hanging out of our flower girl's nose. Ironically the only wedding picture that hangs in our room is the one of me wiping her face with a kleenex.

Two years ago today, we were sent back up to our rooms to get ready for the ceremony. I swished about, sat down, tried not to get my dress wrinkled, chatted with the girls, had a few sips of champagne and waited for the word to head up to the rooftop.

Two years ago today, they called us up to the roof and all of a sudden I couldn't breathe. My corset was so tight I couldn't take a full breath in, and even if I could, the dizziness and vertigo wouldn't let any air into my lungs.

Two years ago today, I was petrified of walking down the aisle. All I saw was a sea of heads, with all eyes about to be on me. I was sure I was going to faint and made that very clear to my parents and coordinator.

Two years ago today, Sissy cursed herself for not packing smelling salts in her bridal emergency kit.

Two years ago today, I insisted I see you BEFORE walking down the aisle. You were the only face that could calm me down enough to put one foot in front of the other.

Two years ago today, you came over, gave me a hug and told me we could do it. That it would be over before I knew it.

Two years ago today, I walked down the aisle to Pachelbel's Canon in D, clutching my mom's hand in a death grip, with my eyes locked on yours. You helped me up the two steps to the alter and I took my first breath in what seemed like hours.

Two years ago today, in the middle of our wedding ceremony, I told you I thought I was going to faint. NOT knowing a microphone was in your tie and therefore the whole wedding party (and most of Los Angeles,) could hear me. That made a nice little addition to our wedding video didn't it?

Two years ago today, the Rabbi was finally done babbling and calling me Samanther, and pronounced us Husband and Wife.

Two years ago today, I was the happiest girl in the world. Not just because I could finally breathe, but because I knew I had just married the man of my dreams.

You can see it on my face.

Happy anniversary baby. I love you.

Love,
Little Bird.

Your Little Baby Sister's Gonna Lose Her Mind

2007-09-20T12:09:00.001-07:00

Intervention Lyrics

Going to see these guys tonight. I'm counting down the minutes. I've waited months for this. And to see them play at the Hollywood Bowl, well, it's almost too much to take.
Tomorrow I predict I will be emotionally spent, sleepy and possibly a tad hungover. It's ok though, I just have to work. =)

Saturday is Yom Kippur. And to repent for my sins I will be running around L.A like a madwoman, taking my boots to the cobbler, doing laundry, paying bills, filling prescriptions and then breaking the "fast" with my family. I'm glad I'll get to spend some time with them before we leave.

Monday is our two year anniversary. I'm thinking we should go to Electric Lotus, the site of our first date. That night Hubbie ordered the platter for two, which was more like four, and since I was so nervous I could barely eat. I took most of it home. After dinner we got in his car but couldn't decide what to do so we just sat and talked.

With the car running and the heater on.

For at least two hours.

When we finally left he was down a half a tank of gas.

When Hubbie dropped me off he didn't get out of the car to walk me to my door. So I kind of lingered in the car wondering how to say goodbye. Was I supposed to hug him across the seat? Peck on the cheek? Wave as I got out? No way!

As I recall it, I went to say goodnight with a kiss on the cheek(ish) and that turned into another hour of smooching. Hubbie recalls a much different scenario, saying I was STRADDLING him in the car. Um, sorry honey, that just didn't happen. First of all, I wouldn't have fit on top of you with the steering wheel behind me. Second, it's ME we're talking about, not Jenna Jameson. I wait til' the third date to straddle.

Despite our conflicting stories, we both agree that we really hit it off right away, and have been inseparable ever since. Seven and a half years later! Happy almost anniversary honey. I love you.

The Accidental Foodie

2007-09-17T15:06:00.000-07:00

Saturday night Hubbie and I had tickets to see Dana Gould at the Imvprov. When I bought the tickets, the website suggested we arrive an hour and a half early to eat in their dining room and we'd get preferred seating. Since I love Dana Gould and have never been to the Improv, I told Hubbie that would be our plan. In fact, I actually said to him, "I mean, how bad could the food be? It's the Hollywood Improv!"

Bet you know where this post is going.

We arrived an hour and a half early, to be seated in an empty dining room. Apparently we were the only suckers that fell for the "dine with us" line. We each ordered a drink and opened the menu. Two whole pages of deep fried food. Fried calamari, fried chicken strips, fried buffalo wings, french fries, fried chicken sandwich, fried mozzarella sticks and fried Caesar salad. Ok I made the last one up but I swear the only items not deep fried on the menu were the double burger and two pasta dishes.

While we looked at the menu and looked at each other, an order came out and was served to a few people at the bar. It looked and smelled like cafeteria food. And not the good Clifton's kind, I mean the gross Hometown Buffet kind.

It was then I decided to make a break for it. I told Hubbie to suck down his drink and we'd eat across the street. From my chair I could see a restaurant with twinkle lights and open tables by the open windows. It was called Chocolat, and I wanted to go. Hubbie was reluctant. Nevertheless, he paid the tab for our drinks and after some mild attitude by the waiter, we excused ourselves and said we'd be back for the show.

Across the street we walk into Chocolat, which was virtually empty. I'd say four of the fifteen tables were filled and two of the empties were set for a large crowd. I look at Hubbie and wink, "hey, we're in luck! It's empty! See! It was a good idea to leave!"

"Table for two please" I say with a smile.

Two beady eyes glare back at me. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Er, no. Do we need one???"

"Sorry ma'am, we are all booked up for the night" says the host, looking out at the sea of open tables.

"I'm sorry? But you have nothing available? We'll eat fast! We have a show to catch across the street. We'll sit anywhere!" Now I'm sounding a little frantic.

He still denied us! What a jerk! I felt like I was in a Seinfeld episode. What did we do wrong? Did we snub him by just wandering in off the street? Were we not dressed properly? Did we look like dine n' ditchers??? This is Los Angeles for god's sake. The city where people go to Crustacean in sweats!

Beginning to doubt my decision to leave the deep fried palace, I convince Hubbie that if we just walk down Melrose, we're sure to bump into something. After all, Ago is just a few blocks down and so is Dolce. Immediately Hubbie refuses Dolce and says something about not wanting to put one more dollar in Ashton Kutcher's pocket. That, and the fact that the restaurant is filled with wannabes and drunk girls with fake boobs. It kinda puts you off your food.

So we keep walking. And walking, and walking. Hey, who's that guy walking toward us picking food out of his teeth? Oh my god! It's Dana Gould! Where did he eat? Why is he alone? Think he could get us into Chocolat???

Two blocks ahead we stumble into a brightly lit modern space with Japanese anime projected on screens above the sushi bar. It's called Kumo, and we were told it had just opened the night before. Which, as we all know, could spell catastrophe.

In this instance it turned out to be great. Hot and cold dishes, full bar, signature drinks, beautiful leather chairs and friendly service. Since it was our first visit and the waitress was still unfamiliar with the entire menu, we just went with our gut. (Ha ha. Get it? Two points for the corny pun.)

The waitress explained the dishes on the menu were only two or three bites big; somewhat like Spanish tapas. She also said they come out fast, so order a couple at a time and eat til you're full. I was so upset I was caught without my camera. Hubbie was thrilled. He gets really embarrassed when I take pictures of food.

We started with yellowtail sashimi, spicy tuna stuffed jalapenos and ahi tuna w/ fried sweet potato. Then we ordered some warm dishes. Baked miso cod, seared scallops and truffle mashed potatoes. Mmmmmmmm. So much better than mozzarella sticks. I washed my meal down with a Grey Goose martini served perfectly cold and salty. We probably could have stopped there but went ahead and ordered a crab and lobster roll, which at $24.00 was a bit of a splurge but oh, so tasty!

With tip and my drink our tab came to about $150.00. Not exactly a bargain. But with fantastic service, ambiance and food in that location, not too bad. I imagine once the word spreads we won't be able to just walk in on a Saturday night. Especially since I just found out it's owned by Mike Ovitz, of CAA fame.

With our bellies full of fish we had a great time watching Dana Gould. Here's a clip of him if you want a giggle.

IMPORTANT!

2007-09-12T20:17:00.000-07:00

From the AP, By ERICA BULMAN, Associated Press Writer:
The most common type of gorilla is now "critically endangered," one step away from global extinction, according to the 2007 Red List of Threatened Species released Wednesday by the World Conservation Union. The Ebola virus is depleting Western Gorilla populations to a point where it might become impossible for them to recover. Commercial hunting, civil unrest and habitat loss due to logging and forest clearance for palm oil plantations are compounding the problem, said the Swiss-based group known by its acronym IUCN. "Great apes are our closest living relatives and very special creatures," Russ Mittermeier, head of IUCN's Primate Specialist Group, told The Associated Press. "We could fit all the remaining great apes in the world into two or three large football stadiums. There just aren't very many left."

I can't describe how upsetting this is to me. I can't even read the whole article because I keep crying. Check out this site and please do what you can to save the gorillas. I'm sorry I had to jump on my soapbox again but this is really important. Please donate what you can and spread the word. Gorillas are amazing creatures and very much like us. It's our responsibility to make sure they thrive.

The Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund

This Week So Far...

2007-09-11T20:15:00.000-07:00

Well, it's only Tuesday but I have news, news, news! For one, my company, (more specifically the owner and lead Director of my company,) won an EMMY for Outstanding Directing for the AMEX/ Ellen Degeneres spots. Yay!

You've seen them I'm sure. The ones with all the animals as her coworkers. And the one where I was faxed the woodpecker's contract. You haven't had a giggle until you see what a woodpecker's day rate is.

He came in holding the statue and let us all ogle it before thanking each one of us for our participation in the win. Then he set the statue on the Production Manager's desk for the rest of the day. (For those of you who work in production, you know the UPM has pretty much the hardest job next to... well, no one in my opinion.)

This is what it looks like!
In other work-related news, Mr. Feesh, my savior at the office, has got new digs! I bought him a new tank and gravel! "Well we're movin' on up, mooooooovin on up..."

He's got a swingin' new bachelor pad to swim in and it looks very DWELL if you don't mind me saying. I put in his favorite "tree" and his very first "plant" and tomorrow will add the new shell I bought for him to get some privacy. (He is quite the ladies man.)

Here's Feesh's new crib, sans the shell.
The more I look at this, the more I realize I need help in the ole' photo department. I take the worst pictures of him!

Speaking of crappy pictures, this week has been filled with culinary adventures. But I can't quite capture yuminess on film. Trust me when I say I made two knock-out meals this week, and again, it's only Tuesday!

Our friends "the Moneys" just returned from Rome and Florence, and Callie brought me some spices to make my own marinara sauce. I was a bit intimidated since the directions read a little something like this:

Fry up bacon.
Add spices and saute for 5 minutes.
Add tomatoes and sauce.

A far cry from the very detailed recipes I'm used to on Epicurious and Foodnetwork. How many tomatoes? Canned or fresh? Is the sauce separate? What else do I add and for how long do I cook it?

But this little Italian girl ended up making a DELICIOUS sauce with perfect consistency and flavor. I sauteed up some prosciutto, (since I didn't have pancetta and I'm sure the recipe didn't mean Oscar Meyer bacon,) and added the spices. Then I added a large can of diced tomatoes, a small can of tomato sauce, about a tablespoon of tomato paste, salt and just let it simmer. Then I seasoned according to taste. A little sugar here, a little oregano there. Some chili flakes because Hubbie likes it spicy. It turned out fantastic and I felt like I made my Italian grandmother proud.

Here's what my first attempt at homemade sauce looked like:

Tonight I made my famous turkey burgers. Despite what my mother would say, turkey burgers can be superb. Sometimes even better that regular hamburgers. And healthier! Even though this isn't a food blog, I'm just so damned impressed with this recipe I've concocted, I thought I'd share it with you valued readers. It couldn't be easier AND it's Weight Watchers friendly.

1 lb - 1.25 lb of ground turkey breast
3-4 roasted red peppers packed in oil, diced
1 pkg of non-fat feta cheese (Feel free to use regular if you're not on a diet like me.)
1 tbs of lemon pepper (More if you like. I use a lot.)
Salt & pepper to taste. (Sea salt is best.)

Mix together all the ingredients and divide into four burgers. Spray a non-stick pan with Pam, (or if you're not on a diet and can afford the calories bitches, use olive oil.) Fry the burgers about 4-5 minutes a side, ensuring they are done by pressing the spatula on the center. Should be firm. Nobody likes undercooked turkey. Nobody likes a visit to the ER either.

Serve burgers with your choice of condiments. The usual suspects: lettuce, tomato, pickle and mayo are good but feel free to be adventurous. Chopped Spanish olives or some capers instead of pickle is tasty as well. For those of you starving, ahem, I mean dieting like me....... you can use a WonderLight bun and fat free mayo, making the burger only 7 points. Without mayo, 6! (But I loves me some mayo so I'll take the extra point thank you very much.)

Here's a picture of what my burger looked like:

Again, sorry for the craptastic picture. I'm working on it. I'm thinking I'll be adding a few more foodie things to the blog so feel free to add your two cents. Recipes, suggestions etc.

Ok, finally have a sec....

2007-09-07T20:14:00.000-07:00

So, we attended a wedding last weekend in Minnesota. Farmington, Minnesota to be exact. Alex and Hubbie have been friends since High School so it was a mandatory function.

For once it wasn't a wedding that I was in.

In fact, it was a group I was entirely unfamiliar with.

We arrived Minneapolis an hour and a half late! Just enough time to grab our bags, grab our rental car, and speed through the corn fields to Mt. Olivet Christian Retreat Center; which was the location of all the wedding festivities. I pull in, let Hubbie out to run to the rehearsal and go to the front desk to check us in.

The basket of bug spray next to the six foot cross should have clued me in to what kind of weekend we were in for, but I ignored it and got our keys from the clerk. I pulled the car around, managed to lug all of our bags into the "dorm" and unlocked the door to our room.

No TELEVISON. No PHONE. No CELL PHONE SERVICE.

NO ALCOHOL ALLOWED ON "PREMISES".

Ahem. Alrighty then.

I unpack and take a shower in DEET bug spray, put on my dress for the rehearsal dinner and leave the "dorm" to find the others. I realize when I step outside that my friend Jeanie, (who's from Minnesota,) wasn't kidding about the state bird being the mosquito. Holy *%^& !!!

I met up with the wedding party and we had a lovely bbq dinner. Lit a bonfire, shared travel stories, inquired how we were all related etc. etc. etc. Then it was time for bed, (according to the group,) at 8:00pm.

Ummmmmm ok. Hubbie and I hop in the batmobile and head to the nearest liquor store, (15 miles, two bunnies and a squirrel away,) for a bottle of wine and some snacks.

Come back to the dorm with Doritos and Argentinean wine and we read, eat, drink, talk, read, drink, sleep. Hubbie has to be up at 8:00am for pictures. FUN FOR HIM!

The wedding ceremony was held on a beautiful green lawn, about a fifteen minute hike from the dorms. Seeing as I had only packed heels, (I'm from Los Angeles give me a break,) I end up wearing my leopard print flats that I wore on the plane. Not the best hiking shoes but they did the job.

The ceremony was romantic, inspiring and very Christian. In fact, part of the ceremony asked that the congregation take communion. Which I did. I didn't think twice about it. My dad was Catholic and I really don't see the harm in observing a tradition. Apparently my mom thought I was being sacrilegious.

Really?

I'm a Jew and I wouldn't be offended if a Christian was asked to hold the Torah, or recite a prayer. Her point was that by taking communion, you are accepting the body and blood of Christ. I guess I looked at it as a ritual that I could partake in, but I would never want to offend anyone of faith. In fact, the opposite!

So anyway, I took communion but didn't cross myself. Hubbie made a joke that the wafer would crackle and pop like PopRocks candy when I took it. Nothing of the sort happened. No lightning either. This Jew is down with the Lutherans.

After the ceremony we had a long brunch and reception filled with French and Norwegian dances. Lots of love and laughter. But no booze. Only Perrier and lemonade. And coffee. (Sigh.)

Saturday night we headed to the big city, (Minneapolis,) to take a tour through a sculpture garden and have cocktails. We had a great time getting to know the rest of the guests and having COCKTAILS!

Sunday Hubbie and I headed to the world famous Minnesota State Fair! We ate savory crepes, pork chops on a stick, deep fried CHEESE CURDS and a root beer float. For all of you who have never experienced the deep fried CHEESE CURD, it is quite the delicacy. Almost like fried mozzarella but with more chewiness. DEEEELISSHHH.

The best part of the day was going in the "butterfly tent" for some one on one action. We paid $3.00 to walk in a tent with thousands of butterflies of all different species to just enjoy, watch and even let them land on you if they chose. A few took a liking to Hubbie and I.

It was amazing. Such beautiful creatures. Everyone in the tent was mesmerized.

Including me- this one didn't want to leave me! (Please ignore the eye booger.)

Unfortunately, we had a plane to catch and had to leave the lovely fair and the beautiful state of Minnesota. Two days just wasn't enough. My grandma was born in St. Paul, and all I've ever heard about the state is that "IT'S COLLLLLLLDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!" My grandma literally walked uphill in the snow to school.

Eh, OK. I get it. It gets cold. But this weekend was lovely.

We get to the airport and as usual, Hubbie would like to smoke up until they're boarding. So our ritual for air travel is I go through security solo, while he smokes, and he meets me at the nearest bar. Just so happens, the bar nearest to our gate is empty, except for Matt Sorum. (Former drummer of The Cult and Guns N' Roses, current drummer of Velvet Revolver.)

Who I've met before through my hairdresser.

He looks over to me while on he's on the phone with Slash, (who I MAY HAVE.... in my teen years.... wallpapered my bedroom with pictures of....., ) and smiles.

When he hangs up we (he) realizes our connection and we start chatting. Then my phone rings- it's Hubbie.

"Yeah, I'm in the bar. As usual. Yes, the one closest to the gate. Yes. Ok, you'll find me!!! Bye!"

Hubbie walks in the bar....

"Hubbie, this is Matt. Matt this is Hubbie."

"Hey man, ................... OH, oh, hey man" =)

The three of us had a great chat before our flight. Matt could not be a nicer guy and was as sincere and sweet as he looks. It's not often one runs into a rock star in the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport, and to run into Matt Sorum, who is interesting and engaging and all the things you wish a rock star would be when you bug them in an airport bar..... well, ............it was just awesome.

Flight home was uneventful. Sat between a pilot, a priest and a girl reading a bible. I felt pretty safe.

Labor Day Monday we spent at my parents house with friends and partied til' the sun came down. It was also a send off for my best friend and her husband on their "around the world in a year" trip. Step-dad makes the best BBQ and margaritas in the state. Ya'll wish you were there.

So many laughs.

I wish Jen & Tom a safe, inspiring trip that will last a lifetime. I love you both.

Also, best wishes to the newlyweds. Thanks for the opportunity for this Valley Girl to get out of the city and see where her grandma grew up. We had a blast.

So much to say, no time to write it

2007-09-06T16:58:00.001-07:00

Work is nuts.

Went to wedding in Minnesota last weekend.

At a Christian retreat.

Expect post about that later.

Best friend left for South America Tuesday night.

Didn't actually arrive until today due to two flight delays and a motel stay in Panama.

Speaking of which, I leave for Argentina in exactly one month.

Holy shit.

Peace out.

I can't stop laughing...

2007-08-24T16:37:00.000-07:00

This is just so perfect!

2007-08-21T12:14:00.000-07:00

Your Personality Is Like Acid

A bit wacky, you're very difficult to predict.
One moment you're in your own little happy universe...
And the next, you're on a bad trip to your own personal hell!

What Drug Is Your Personality Like?

So appropriate. However, I've never had a bad trip on acid. When others were seeing Satan and wondering if the trip would EVER END, I always had a big fat smile on my face and enjoyed every minute. I remember laughing til tears rolled down my face, seeing dancing mariachis on the ceiling, and my personal favorite, being outside and FEELING nature. You haven't lived til you've watched the waves roll onto the beach on acid. (Well that's a bit of an exaggeration but it really is cool!)

Now, I did have a minor freak out the time I decided I could drive down Highway 5, in the rain, after a Dead show, in the middle of the night, on a two lane road. FRYING. In retrospect, it probably wasn't the best decision to get behind the wheel. I'll never forget my friend Susan, (who never took drugs,) whispering, "Umm, sweetie? I think you need to speed up."

I was going thirty five miles an hour on an interstate highway. Whoops! We ended up pulling off somewhere near the Oregon/California border. I recall going to an IHOP type restaurant where I ordered hot chocolate and tried to pull my shit together. I think Susan had a full breakfast with the works and I was kind of grossed out. As anyone who has done acid can attest, food is the last thing you want to see. Well, that and a mirror.

Oh the stupid decisions you make when you're 19. Today I think twice before driving on a half a zanax.

I guess the point of this post is NOT that it's ok to take hallucinogens and drive. Not at all. But I don't regret ever having taken them. In fact, I have some pretty beautiful memories tied to acid. Some great laughs, revelations, sights, songs and love. (I know, the deadhead in me is coming out. Someone cue the Hair Soundtrack.)

I could never do them again, but I'm glad I have the memories. Peace!

Funky little rhyme about a b*tch or two

2007-08-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

Today I listened to Eazy-E's "Eazy-Duz-It" album for the first time in, oh I don't know....... FIFTEEN YEARS. I double click on the first song, "Still Talkin' " and found myself astonished that I still knew every word. Sitting at at my desk I was instantly transported back to High School. I sang along to the entire song, word for word, OUT LOUD.

Can you imagine a more pathetic scene? A thirty something career woman sitting at her computer singing, "Tell yo' momma to get off of my tip, I have no time to give her my d*ck."

Sigh. I can't believe I listened to this stuff growing up. What a poseur. I was driving around in a white convertible rabbit with a perm wearing Keds, listening to a rapper describe killing gang members, selling drugs and screwing hookers. Ummmmm, kinda lame in retrospect.

But I do love this album. And I love the memories it brings back. In fact, I once saw Eazy E. My friends and I ran into him at Jerry's Deli on Ventura of all places. There Eazy was, with his possee at a Jewish deli in the valley. My friends and I screamed and cooed and giggled all the way back to the car. I dropped my keys on the way out and he actually picked them up and handed them to me. Eazy was actually a nice guy!

I wonder how much street cred he lost with Dre when he ordered matzo ball soup and a knish?

My Week In A Nutshell

2007-08-09T20:34:00.000-07:00

Hubbie and I had a conversation last weekend where he called me a pessimist. Really? Am I? Maybe I am. I like to think of myself as a realist. I believe in logic, science, proof, experience. But reading the last few posts, I dunno, am I a pessimist?

This week blows. Maybe I'm in a funk.

I started this blog hoping to write my experiences with witty posts that the reader can relate to; or at least leave the reader laughing. Or pensive. Or in agreement!

What I'm finding is that I've lately been writing to vent. And so, here goes. Another vent.

I'm annoyed a lot of the time. I've been so irritable lately. Life in general is just taking it's toll. I wish I had the energy to make this post witty in some way but really I just have to get this crap off my chest.

I have anxiety. A lot. I have all these thoughts of where I'm supposed to be, where I should have made better decisions, where I should have put my foot down. And these thoughts haunt me. And carrying all these feelings, I found a box of "memories" in my parents garage last weekend.

I found the music box my grandfather gave me that plays Sunrise Sunset. I found a short story I wrote in 4th grade that, (in my humble opinion,) was pretty damn good. I found pictures of a more innocent time. I found letters from my dad. And that pushed me over the edge.

I thought I'd come to a peaceful place 12 years after his suicide. But apparently the therapy and two rehabs haven't cured me of the aching pain that surfaces when I really think about him. And I wonder if it will ever go away.

The letters I found were written to me when I went on a six week trip around the U.S with a group of teens. I was fourteen. My relationship with him at that point was that of your typical teenager, but somewhat different. I lived with my mom and step-dad. I spent every other weekend with him and his new wife. I guess I always admired him, because he was my dad, but it was different than my other friends.

When he wore Converse shoes to my Bat Mitzvah AND Sweet 16, I was embarrassed. In a sense. I wanted to fit in. I wanted my parents to look like my friends parents. But he didn't. He had long hair. He wore black. He wore jeans every day. Now, I love that about him. But I didn't realize how cool that was then. And I hate myself for ever thinking he was weird.

I remember he'd sleep in late the weekends I spent with him. Due to his late recording schedule and, honestly, his alcoholism.

He was a musician. When I was in high school listening to Guns N' Roses and Nirvana, he made me a tape of Jimi Hendrix. It changed my life. Why didn't I recognize how great he was then, and get to know him as a person then? I just wrote it off as a cool tape.

When I was in college I was so self-absorbed that to call any of my parents was a chore. By then my dad and the woman he married were divorced, but I still had a relationship with her. I had all these obligatory calls to make. Grandma, Mom, Dad, Step-mom. It became tiresome since all I wanted to do was hang out with my friends.

My dad called me one week in August of 95. Asked me if he could come up to Santa Barbara the following weekend to visit me. I said no, I had my friend's birthday party and we were going to celebrate all weekend. (Code- we were going to do drugs, drink and stay up all night.) I told him he could come up another time.

Cut to two weeks later when I had the visit from Martha. (See previous post.)

Why did I do that? Will I always carry this guilt? Will I always miss him with this intensity? Will I always beat myself for not spending that one weekend with him? Why didn't I see it coming?

Could I have done something?

I know that all of this baggage I carry affects who I am today. Does it make me a pessimist? Does it make me bitter? Does it make me less spiritual? I think so. But I don't want to carry this sadness anymore. I have this bag of regret I carry around.

I miss him terribly. But even if he was here- would it make my day to day life better? My job that stresses me out. My longing for a home of my own instead of a tiny apartment? My longing/incredible fear of having a child of my own? Do I compartmentalize my sadness from this tragedy and use it as an excuse to escape?

Even the things I think I want- I question. Do I want the responsibility of a house? Do I want the responsibility of a child? I'm just getting used to the responsibility of a husband. I know I'm a selfish person. I am working on changing that. But it's hard.

It's the reason I read blogs like tunagirl and anchorednomad. I'm so glad I've joined this community so I can see what real family life is like.... day to day. They've inspired me to pull my sh*t together. I want to be a better person- a more patient person. A less selfish person. It will be a struggle but I'm ready to let go of my resentments and work on myself.

For now I have to work on taking this anger out on others. I'm scared to death, but I want to be a good mom, wife, friend, daughter and granddaughter. I have the best husband a girl could ask for; so I'm on my way. He gets me like no other.

Through all the sorrow, he's there for me. And I vow to be a better, more tolerant person. I won't make the same mistake twice. I will appreciate every day he is here with me, and love him with everything I have.

An Open Letter to Urban Outfitters

2007-07-30T20:17:00.000-07:00

You know, we go back a long while. All the way back to the days where my grandma took me "back to school" shopping and I had to convince her all the kids in high school wanted to look like this.

Ok, maybe it was just me and my grungy/hippie/stoner/(clearly cool) friends but whatever.

Point is, we've had a relationship a long time. You were there through my college years when I clearly could NOT afford you but somehow made it work on my few trips down from Santa Barbara. You were there when I got my first "real job" and ran to your newly opened doors on Melrose, only to become a little nauseous by your new ridiculous prices- which forced me to supplement my wardrobe at Aardvarks and Buffalo Exchange.

But I was still loyal. That is, until you started blaring music so horrid........ that to shop in your store for a mere 30 minutes, left me twitching and buzzing like a raver after a candy-flipping party.

And that's when we temporarily parted ways. I just couldn't take one more day of walking between your tightly packed racks of cheaply-made-fade-after-one-wash-good-luck-wearing-it-more-than-twice garments. On my new, meager Receptionist salary, I just couldn't continue seeing you as often as we once did.

I thought you'd understand. I thought neither of us were bitter. So Ok, I didn't call you for five years. So????? I came back to your new location on Ventura Blvd. I was excited by the familiar smell of overly-priced pomegranate scented candles. I was tickled by the racks of jeans in every different cut, style and wash. I was worked into a frenzy by your hook of dyed ladies slips which I can never find in my size.

So I spent $315.00 in one spree. Makes up for lost time, no?

In that spree I put an $18.00 silver/gold chain necklace with a bird charm. When I unpacked my goods last night it wasn't there. I looked and looked, turned the bag upside down, and nothing. (OH COME-ON!!!)

Today I called you. I know it was awkward, but that's what happens when you don't speak for FIVE YEARS. I explained to you how you let me down, ONCE AGAIN. You told me this never happens and the loss is probably my fault. (Not a chance.)

After an uncomfortable exchange you told me my only option is to drive back with my receipt, (2o miles out of my way,) and hope that you are still carrying the same chain. Really???? You can't credit my card? You can't email me a credit? I now have to set aside time to drive all the way back to your location, which I just HAPPENED to stumble into after all these years because, I HAPPENED to be in the neighborhood???????

I guess we have to just accept each other for who we are. I guess we might need some more time apart to appreciate our quirks. But for now, we're officially on a break. I will be back this weekend to retrieve my necklace, but you can be sure I won't be calling you for a long while.

So there.

5 Things I Won't Let Ruin My Weekend

2007-07-27T14:49:00.000-07:00

#5. We didn't get the house. It's gonna be another Christmas in our 550 sq. foot apartment with a shrub for a tree and Ambient Fire on the television.

#4. We have to be at our accountant's office at the ungodly hour of 9:00 AM on Saturday. Which means I have to be up at 7:30 AM along with the paperboys and homeless people collecting cans.

#3. Because of reason #4 I can't go out and tie one on with my friends tonight to wash off the week. No one can handle being hungover in their accountant's office. Not even me.

#2. I have to return a pair of shoes to Nordstrom at The Grove. I'll probably go after the accountant appointment. Which means after I get the fabulous news that I'll probably have to file an amended return and owe the government a gabillion dollars, I then have to dodge fifty thousand teenagers with designer bags and even more mommies with strollers the size of cadillacs just to get into the mall. (Run on sentence anyone?) Don't get me wrong, I love The Grove, just not on a Saturday afternoon when every person in Los Angeles heads over there.

#1. I still haven't made a hair appointment because I'm trying to conserve dough right now, so I'm still walking around with three obvious grey hairs AND roots. Two more weeks and I'm going to have to start wearing a schmata on my head like Britney.

I am however looking forward to reading more of The Kite Runner. I finally picked it up last night and was so engrossed I fell asleep with it on my chest.

Happy Friday ya'll.

Redskins

2007-07-25T14:26:00.000-07:00

After watching this video I think I could become a Redskins fan. Even though their name couldn't possibly be more politically incorrect, unless there's an NFL team I don't know about called the Black Sambos.

Football is the only sport I can stand to watch on TV. (Besides gymnastics and cheerleading, which are in fact sports, but just not in the same way.) Baseball puts me to sleep. Basketball they score too often to get excited. Soccer they don't score enough to care. Football is the perfect contact sport that keeps the viewer constantly entertained.

And it's a perfect excuse to drink beer on a Sunday morning.

When does the season start again?

And Now We Wait

2007-07-24T15:43:00.000-07:00

We submitted an offer today on another house. It's in a better neighborhood than the last and is about 300 square feet bigger. However, we offered WAY under asking price. They say it's a buyer's market. We shall see.

We spent all day Sunday house hunting and doing laundry at my parents house. Pathetically, it's like I'm still in college. I go home to do my laundry because I just can't bear sitting in a laundromat. If and when we own a house I think I'll still be a lazy laundry doer, but at least when it piles up to the ceiling, I can take it in shifts to my own laundry room and sip wine while it dries. God help my future children. I can just see me saying, "Are you sure that's dirty? You only wore it to one soccer practice!"

Work is finally starting to pick up. June was as lively as a retirement home where Kevorkian makes rounds. Now the advertisers are starting to shoot their fall campaigns. My favorite commercial right now is this:

My company didn't do it, but it's a great spot. And a great Flaming Lips song.

Lindsay Lohan was arrested this morning on suspicion of DUI and cocaine possession. Does anyone care? I didn't think so. So why is it the top story of every single news broadcast? What is going on in our society that Paris and Lindsay are the leading stories and not how many soldiers have been wounded or killed in the last week? I live in Los Angeles, and know a lot of people in the "industry". I've heard stories that would make your head spin but luckily I haven't had to deal with anything too severe.

Well unless you count the time one of my directors got the hiccups in the middle of a Campbell's Soup commercial and we had to stop shooting for an hour and fifteen minutes, the length of time it took him to finally get rid of them. Everyone on the set was running up to him with their own "cure," including the wardrobe lady who asked him to cluck like a chicken.

Or the director I worked for who refused to continue shooting until some diet peach Snapple was brought to the set. Apparently craft service had every flavor BUT that. I was sent to the nearest store to pick some up and when I returned, (covered in sweat,) the director ripped it from my hands and said, "OK, now let's continue folks. We don't have all day here!"

My personal favorite showbiz (working) memory was on the set of a commercial starring Ed O'Neill. I was a lowly Production Assistant at the time and we were shooting on the back lot at Universal Studios. I got a call over my walkie that said, "We need a PA to go pick up Ed. He's lost somewhere around New York." (For those of you unfamiliar with Universal's lot, there's a large section devoted to just NYC streets where exterior shots are filmed.)

The funny part of this was, we weren't shooting ANYWHERE NEAR "New York" and since I was brand spanking new working on sets, I really didn't know my way around either. So guess who they ask to fetch Ed? Moi.

I take off running, (like any good PA) looking for Al Bundy in New York City. It took me about fifteen minutes and I found him, wandering like a lost puppy, scratching his head and looking really panicked. When I got to him I told him who I was and that I was the one assigned to guide him back to set. I apologized and told him that it was quite possible we'd get lost on the way back too since I had only worked at Universal twice. He could not have been nicer and kept thanking me for "rescuing" him. What a sweetheart.

If only they could all be that nice. And directors wouldn't throw their production designers in the trash can. Or throw punches. And wardrobe designers wouldn't throw hangers at their assitants. And executive producers wouldn't throw phone books at their secretaries. (All true stories.) If they could all be like Ed O'Neill on that fateful day where I rescued him from the barren streets of Manhattan, this would be a much nicer industry.

A girl can hope can't she?

I'd like a Trifecta Box on Three Grey Hairs

2007-07-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

This morning I had The Count's voice in my head. One grey hair. TWO grey hairs. THREE GREY HAIRS! I'm only thirty two and I have THREE GREY HAIRS. Possibly more but maybe my eyesight is going and I can't see the rest.

The first one I found I plucked and then cried. The next two I found I left alone and tried to cover in a ponytail. Nothing is working. It's officially the beginning of the end. To add insult to injury I'm going to have to up the visits to the hair salon, which will put a dent in the pocketbook for sure.

I've had the same hair stylist for eight years. He works at the salon that invented the Jennifer Aniston "Friends" do. Last time I was there I sat next to Nicole Ritchie. He's not cheap, but thankfully since I've been seeing him so long he gives me a break on the price. He's a really good guy. Guess I have to make an appointment soon.

So much has happened in the last few weeks. Fourth of July came and went. We spent a lovely day of bbq and fun at our friend's house in Atwater. My bff came down and spent two nights at my house so we got in a little quality time. She and her husband are two of the people we're going to Argentina with. Speaking of which, I finally got our internal flights so we're all set. Five flights in fourteen days is certainly going to be interesting.

Last weekend we headed to Hollywood Park for the last day of horse races. For some reason, I'm really good at betting on horses. Only been twice before and won both times. But since I'm so afraid of losing money I only bet $2 at a time. Well, last Sunday we walked in, grabbed the race list, I picked 3 horses who had the best names and bet $2 on a trifecta box. Won $115.00. Turned out to be a great day at the races despite my slight hangover from dinner with The Marrieds the previous night.

When we left the park I was about $150 up. Just enough to pay for a pizza dinner and balance out my hubbie's $100 loss. Check out some pics below.

Me & Cal

My Lucky Race Book

Our neighbors in the box to our right
Aren't they beautiful?
Better luck next time honey

TGIF

2007-06-29T16:47:00.000-07:00

I have no idea what I'm going to do when I have a baby. Because all I can think about right now, at 4:45 on a Friday, is getting the hell out of work, into pajamas, pouring a glass of wine and CHILLIN. Followed by a LOOOOONG sleep. In fact, I don't want to get out of bed before 11am tomorrow. And I can.

For now.

How do moms do it? How do you go from having all this free time to none at all? Nothing to ease you in. Say, one weekend a month with an infant, followed by two, followed by three. Nope. It's all or nothing.

I hate to say it but I think I'm kind of a lazy person. Not when it comes to work but when it comes to free time. Some people see the weekend as an adventure. 48 whole hours to not be at work and therefore they fill it with activities that please them. They go outside. They hike, bike, camp and run marathons. They get up early and go to flea markets and estate sales. They go out for breakfast and peruse farmers markets.

Not me. Given the choice, I'm happy just staying in. Not answering the phone. Ordering some movies on OnDemand. Ordering in some junk food. Reading. Watching television with the shades drawn. Staying in my pajamas all day. Not having to make any physical effort whatsoever. MAAAAYBE getting out to go get a mani/pedi. Just chillin. Some would say that sounds like I'm depressed. I would disagree. It's just what makes me happy.

So with this being said, once I have a baby, all this will be long gone. Am I correct? Is it possible that I'm trying to soak up as many of these "free days" as I can before my life is dictated by diaper changes and feeding times? It's not like I can say to Hubbie, "Pretend I'm not here and you feed the baby." Can I?

I've been doing really well on the diet and have so far lost five and a half pounds. I know if I exercised more (ahem, at all) I would lose it faster. And be able to eat more.

But for now, this particular Friday afternoon, I'm going to relish in the fact that I have NOTHING that HAS to be done tomorrow except dinner with friends. And NOTHING that has to be done Sunday except a mani/pedi. And I'm grateful for that.

Happy Friday!

Butterflies in Stomach

2007-06-27T13:10:00.000-07:00

Belly in knots. Going somewhere I haven't been in four years. Nervous. Jittery. Would rather not go but have to.
Sorry for being vague, have to be. Until I don't anymore. Ugh. Sorry. Probably shouldn't have even written.
But I have to keep my hands busy and my mind on something else.
Ok, speaking of which, the book I'm reading is fantastic. I am absolutely obsessed now with the French revolution. I want to read anything I can get my hands on. If anyone has any suggestions I'd love to hear them.
Palm Springs with the in-laws was lovely. We spent three full days lazing in the sun and making some delicious home cooked meals. My father in law is a fantastic cook and grilled for us both nights. The temperature hit about 120 degrees during the day and about 90 at night. We're talking HOT. But since the air is so dry you don't realize how warm it actually is.
I managed to escape the weekend with only a minor sunburn on the top of my thighs. After 32 years of going there I've learned to "reapply" the sunscreen. I worry about skin cancer now that I'm older. I used to just fry like bacon in the sun. Can remember at least three or four times getting burned enough to blister. Shoulders especially.
I've never been to a dermatologist. I suppose it's time to go. Although I have to admit I really don't want to be looked over. And I really don't want anything biopsied. I guess it's going to have to be one of those things where I force myself to go- kind of like the dentist- but without nitrous oxide. (Do they provide that at some dermatologists??)
I'll leave you with a picture of our backyard in Palm Springs. It was so beautiful, we felt like Hollywood stars.

One of the funniest things I've seen in a long time.

2007-06-26T09:58:00.000-07:00

The fact that a museum like this actually exist blows my mind. Who is running to see these exhibits? Who is going to pay $19.95 to see "museum exhibits suggesting that man coexisted with dinosaurs -- which fossils show became extinct millions of years before humans existed."

My God! It's Land of The Lost! They made a museum out of Land of The Lost! Boy, I loved that show! But asserting the world is only 6,000 years old and God really did create it in six days is pretty darn funny. What's even funnier are some of the comments on the Creation Museum's site.

"I just want to let you know how thrilled I am at the opening of the Creation Museum. Finally we have a place to take our children that we don’t have to worry about the message they are hearing. We can rest assured that they are hearing the truth, the truth that we so firmly believe in." —P. F., Ohio

Worry about the message they're hearing? What message would that be? That GASP, Noah may not have loaded each and every animal on earth, two by two, on to a wooden boat? Man, I've worked on commercials with animals and even their trainers can't get them to work that efficiently. And we're talking trying to get a dog to walk through a "doggie door" at the cued time.

The museum must attract the same people who continually vote to deny GLBT people basic civil rights. They think homosexuals getting married is not only immoral but absurd. But there's nothing absurd about the exhibit in which, "Adam appears, bearded and handsome, if slightly waxen. Eve emerges from his rib with luxuriant hair and a kindly expression."

What will they think of next?

*Quotes taken from Washington Post article 5/07.

7 more hours to go

2007-06-21T11:24:00.000-07:00

Inlaws, Hubbie and I are heading to Palm Springs this weekend for a little R&R. We rented a big modern house with a fabulous backyard where I plan to spend many hours lying in the sun reading. It's long overdue.

This morning I was slapped in the face with the trials of simply running an errand. After fighting traffic for an hour, I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a prescription I had ready. The pharmacy is located at the very back of the store, and I had to dodge employees in practically every aisle stocking shelves. When the clerk went to ring me up he realized he hadn't powered up the register yet. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, he asked me to sign for the script, take the form all the way to the front of the store, pay for it and then walk back to the pharmacy to pick up the pills. There's my cardio for the day.

When I got to the front register I had to wait for the person in front of me to kindly explain to the cashier that her coupon clearly states a free gallon of milk with the purchase of three boxes of cereal. However, she chose chocolate milk and for some reason it wouldn't go through on the system. After ten minutes of this my blood pressure started to rise and my foot was uncontrollably tapping. I was now officially late for work.

When I finally got rung up, and sprinted to the back to get the pills, then sprinted out to my car, I looked around and couldn't find it. The car that is. I was in the wrong aisle. I walked over to the right aisle and was nearly mowed down by an a**hole on a cell phone who decided to gun it out of his parking spot.

I screamed so loud my throat still hurts. He gave a wimpy apology before speeding off. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I got in the car and drove off, making it to work fifteen minutes late. Walked in to the raised eyebrow of my boss and the phone already ringing.

Yeah, I need a little R&R. 7 more hours til I see this.

Every Time You Close Your Eyes...

2007-06-20T21:34:00.001-07:00

I hear a song and want to call my dad to play it for him. Or, I'll be listening to a band I know he knew, and I want to ask his opinion. After all, he was the major influence on my indie music tastes.

Right now... listening to Arcade Fire, all I can think about is wishing my dad could hear this. I know I'm the last to catch on to this band. I know they've been around forever, and yet, I heard Funeral the other day as if it were the first time. I've been playing the song "Rebellion/Lies" over and over since. It's the true meaning of emo.

I hate that word. I hate that word so much but there's no other description for this album. I'm no music critic, so this is hard to put into words. All I can say is.... I feel different after hearing this album, and learning what went into it.

This live performance brought tears to my eyes. Hope you enjoy.

You Know You're an Angeleno If:

2007-06-19T15:59:00.001-07:00

You get an email from a good friend that reads:

Hi Girls, We are having a Botox event on Wednesday June 27 from 5pm-8pm. Botox is on sale for $9/ unit, if any of you have been considering Botox this is a great price. If you get Botox that night you will get a free Tarot card reading. We'll have food and non-alcoholic(bummer) drinks. Let me know if you are interested. Hope everyone is having a good day.

And you don't flinch. In fact, you write back saying you would attend but you're still working on paying off your laser hair removal.

Second Thoughts?

2007-06-13T21:14:00.000-07:00

Hubbie came home and I showed him my new and improved blog. (Nice huh?) And he noticed my 10 Desert Island Records. And then said, "Oh, hmm, it's changed."

Uhhhhh, HAVE WE MET? Changed since when? Our conversation up to Paso, where I was caught off guard? Let's review.

This list will probably change weekly, leaving the same six records up and the other four rotating. But I can tell you right now, with no reservation, that Pink Floyd's The Wall will remain, and will ALWAYS remain on this list.

For certain. Without any hesitation. Ok?!?!?!

I know this because I'm listening to it right now and I have chills. However, while I was cooking dinner, (pork tenderloin in a current jam/rosemary/garlic sauce,) I listened to Jerry Garcia Band and R.E.M which made me second guess my choices. Well, not so much with Jerry but definitely R.E.M.

Any of you have definitive top ten desert island albums?

Wait Watchers

2007-06-13T15:31:00.000-07:00

Back on a diet. Haven't really been on one since before the wedding. I suppose I thought the twenty pounds I lost in 2005 would magically stay off despite my inclination towards meals centered around cheese, cream, red meat and wine. (I really should have been born in France.)

An awful thing happened to me when I was twenty eight. I was in a Target one day and saw an aisle of scales. I decided to step on one. I saw a number flash before my eyes that I had never seen, nor dreamed of. I saw a number that was my high school weight. That is, if in high school I sported a water buffalo on my back.

I've always been thin and wore a size 3 or 5. When I turned twenty eight that all changed. I used to be able to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Oh, the days of a cheeseburger, fries and a CHOCOLATE SHAKE for lunch. The years in college that I'd eat a burrito and a six pack of beer and have a washboard stomach. The years after college that were filled with bowls and bowls of pasta because that's all I could afford, yet still looked great in a bathing suit.

Now if I don't watch everything I put in my mouth I start to look like I swallowed Jerry Falwell's corpse. (Sorry, I just had to write one sentence that had Falwall and corpse in it. ha ha ha.) Ok, moving on.

Weight Watchers seems to work the best for me out of all the diets I've tried. (ahem. all two of them.) I started last Monday and now I just wait for the pounds to drop off. When I decide to do something I really put my mind to it. (Usually.) So, I'm really motivated to lose ten pounds and am hoping to do that by mid July. And more importantly keep it off.

Until we leave for Argentina, land of red meat, wine and chimichurri sauce. My mouth is already watering.

Baby Steps

2007-06-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

Like most of my friends, my parents are divorced. Difference being, my parents were separated before I was even born, so luckily I never suffered the actual "split". I never knew my parents as a marital unit... and that just didn't seem strange to me. In fact, picturing them married seemed stranger.

I was also lucky that my mom enlisted help from my grandparents, great aunts, uncles and cousins to raise me. Yes, I was born an only child to a single parent but I was never neglected. In fact, it was the opposite. I was always made to feel special, got pretty much anything I wanted, and felt immense love and acceptance.

At one point we lived with my mom's cousin and her children. And it was a really happy time for me. I would play with my older cousins and our big dumb sheepdog in the back yard. It felt very much like a hippie house, with Cat Stevens on the record player and folk art on the walls. Yet I knew, even at the age of three, that something was missing.

Enter my step-dad.

I was so young that I don't remember the sequence of events, or how and when things transpired. All I really remember is all of a sudden this guy started coming around. And I liked him. I liked that my mom was happy around him and I felt comfortable immediately.

I was already well versed in the "step-parent" language since my dad had married a woman shortly after he and my mom split. I knew what it meant to have another parental figure that wasn't blood, so I knew when Bill came around, there was a possibility that he would stay. Of course I also realized that there was a possibility that he wouldn't.

I recall sitting in the back seat of the car while my mom and Bill were up front, and I leaned forward, (only babies rode in car seats back then,) and said, "so, when are you getting married?"

Shortly after, they would be married. I don't remember the wedding but I think I wore a yellow dress? More important are the things I remember since their wedding.

I remember him picking me up and carrying me to bed no matter where I fell asleep. And that happened a lot. And sometimes I'd be half awake, but preferred he carry me to bed rather than walk.

I remember him tucking me in and leaving the light on in the hallway after he and my mom mistakenly took me to see Star Trek-The Wrath of Khan at the drive-in. (I still cover my ear before going to sleep.)

I remember him putting together my bike and teaching me to ride. He even put a basket on.

I remember him always being the one to stay calm and collected at my skating competitions, when everyone else was coming unglued. It was comforting. I knew it was ok if I screwed up. (Of course there were a few dips in the video recording the day I fell three times during one routine.)

I remember he listened to good music and turned me on to Led Zeppelin. (At nine years old. He probably doesn't even know this.)

I remember him tutoring me in all of my math classes that I constantly struggled with. If I was him I would have shoved the pencil in my ear because I was such a dunce. (Ironically I went on to work for a company where I manage budgets, cash expenditures and two checking accounts.) He was a pretty good tutor.

I remember he would take me and a friend to his company party every year, which just happened to be a room filled with all the newest and greatest video games, all set to FREE PLAY. And, I got to miss school to attend. =)

I remember him burying my first pet, Paddington. The hamster. Enough said. =(

I remember him teaching me to drive because my mom was a nervous wreck, (hi mom!) and helping me grasp that whole "ease off the clutch" part of driving a stick.

I remember him coming in my room when I was a teenager, just to check in. To ask me how my day was. Even though I was busy on the phone, I was happy he did. (Wasn't too happy when he made me get off the phone but I guess someone had to do it.)

I remember the laughter that would fill the house when he and my mom were in a goofy mood. And it made me smile because I liked to see my mom happy too.

I could go on but the fact of the matter is, I am who I am because I had you in my life. I'm grateful for you and all that I've learned from you.

Love you. Happy Father's Day.

CAUTION! EXPLETIVES BELOW...

2007-06-11T14:14:00.000-07:00

While watching Good Morning America today, my husband saw an ad for a new "FDA Approved" diet pill. Knowing that both of us are trying to lose a few pounds, he went to the company's website to find out more about this "magic" pill.

Below is an email he sent out to friends and family that lists the "side effects" with his comments.

Saw a commercial about a new FDA approved diet pill.......sounds great!........ Here's an excerpt from the website.... Christian

Does alli have side effects?

In many cases, that's up to you. alli works by preventing the absorption of some of the fat you eat. The fat passes out of your body very very quickly, so you may have bowel changes, known as treatment effects (shitting your pants!).

You may have:

gas with oily spotting (sharts!)

loose stools (diarhea)

more frequent stools that may be hard to control (almost shitting your pants while trying to make it to a bathroom!)

Eating a low-fat diet lowers the chance of these bowel changes (crapping in your undies!), especially if you limit your fat to 15 grams per meal.

While no one wants to experience treatment effects (shitting yourself), you may think of them as a way to become more aware of what you eat. Minimizing treatment effects (shit slips) can be an incentive to keep from eating too much fat (or eating at all!)

Managing "treatment effects" (pants shitting)

Even before you begin taking alli capsules, try following a reduced-calorie, low-fat diet so you can get used to making smarter food choices. Then choose a day to start with alli capsules such as a weekend day (and hang on tight) so you can stay close to home if you experience a treatment effect (explosive shart!).

When you work with alli, you can get the guidance you need to possibly avoid treatment effects (shitting your pants) altogether. And support is there right from the beginning with myalliplan. (Although no one will come to your aid if you appen to shit yourself; you'll be cleaning that up all by yourself.)

Begin with the alli starter pack

When you‚re ready for alli, and don't mind the idea of possibly shitting all over yourself, look for the alli starter pack, available beginning June 15th. The pack includes alli capsules, a dozen adult diapers, and an easy reference guides to help you follow the alli program. The starter pack also includes a carrying case called the Shuttle (or Shittle), making it easy to keep your alli capsules with your diapers and wet wet wipes at every meal. take a tour of the alli starter pack.

The portable reference guides, together with no self respect and myalliplan, deliver the support you need to help you succeed with weight loss and teach you how to eat healthy and strengthen your butt muscles for a lifetime. Because individual results may vary, it will take hard work on your part. After all, it takes alot of planning to always be within 20 paces of a toilet.

Are you ready for alli? Take the alli weight loss readiness quiz:

To all you girls out there...

2007-06-05T12:51:00.000-07:00

7:10 PM- Came home from work and put away the bag of clean laundry that had been sitting on the floor for two weeks. Made an effort to do more but ended up putting on my sweats and turning on reruns of Sex and the City by 7:30.

8:30- I got up, brushed my teeth, washed my face and got in bed. (And drank some prune juice and rolled my hair in curlers.)

8:45- I turned on more Sex and the City reruns in the bedroom, sending my husband fleeing to the living room to watch anything but that.

9:15- I told him I was hungry.

9:20- I asked him if I should have pizza or ice cream as a snack? Couldn't decide which had fewer calories.

9:22- He came in with a reheated slice of cheese pizza- which I proceeded to eat. In bed. With freshly brushed teeth.

9:28- I got up with the intention of brushing my teeth again, only to come back in the bedroom holding a pint of Haagen Daz Carmel Cone ice cream.

9:45- Sickened with myself, I made my husband rip the ice cream container out of my cold dead hands. There was about two bites left. Hey, I didn't finish it!

7:00 AM this morning- Needed a fork lift to get me out of bed.

11:00 AM- Should start ANY minute now. Wish I was back at home watching Sex and the City reruns.

Long Long Long ago

2007-05-30T14:06:00.000-07:00

I thought I was dreaming. I opened my eyes and saw my step-mother sitting at the foot of my bed. I closed my eyes and reopened them, only to see her still sitting there, but this time she reached out and touched me. It was still dark, probably about six in the morning. I was in my bedroom that I shared with Ike. He was still sound asleep.

How did she get in without waking my other three roommates and the dog?

I knew something was either terribly wrong or I was hallucinating. I had a few drinks the night before but nothing too crazy. Just the typical summer night in a college town. School was about to start up again and everyone was getting in the last few nights of debauchery before fall.

"Are you awake?" she said as I sat up in bed.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered as my mind raced. Did she drive? Fly? Why hadn't she called first? Is she on drugs again?

This wasn't my step-mom's first time visiting me in Santa Barbara, but it was her first time to this house. I'd never even told her the address. The summer of 95' I shared a house with four guys. A first (and last) for me.

Ike and I each had a twin bed that was separated by a constant pile of dirty laundry. Our other housemates were not exactly tidy either. One was a skater with a mohawk who let his pit bull pee all over the house. (He also happened to be my Statistics 101 tutor.) The other two were surfers who subsisted on nothing but Top Ramen, Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and the occasional burrito. I loved them all but the house was in a constant state of chaos. The dishes were never done unless I broke down and put on the hazmat suit, only to have another sink full three days later. The house was vacuumed once in three months, and that was also done by yours truly, while the dog growled and barked at me because she was frightened of the noise.

This was not the house to bring parents to. This was the house where we had kegs all summer long, drinking what was left over from a party in the morning. This was the house my roommates made it their goal to drink enough "twelvers" of Pabst to cover the entire front lawn in cans. A sort of punk rock 90s art installation. This was the house with an upside down canoe in the front yard that was used for extra seating to watch the daily horseshoe tournament. This was the house that had an American Flag waving in front and Black Flag blasting from within. This house was 21 and under.

"What are you doing here?" I said again, looking over to make sure Ike was still asleep.

"Your father is dead" she said followed by a long pause. It was as if she knew what I was thinking so she said it again.

"Your father passed away. He's dead." And then she started to cry.

Even though she had said the words, I still wasn't sure I heard her right. So I said the next thing that came to mind.

"How???"

"He killed himself..." she said and I waited for further explanation. Those words just hung in the dark room for a while. I couldn't say how long. Long enough for them to rattle my ears and jolt me awake but not long enough for them to make a bit of sense. Then I said the most ridiculous thing anyone could say in a situation such as this.

"Are you serious?"

When you're twenty years old and you're woken up at dawn by your crazy step-mother who doesn't even live in the same state as you, I suppose it's any one's guess as to what would have been the appropriate thing to say. I really did mean what I said though.

Killed himself? My dad killed himself? My dad who I just talked to the week before, killed himself?!?!

"How?" I said again and realized Ike was starting to stir.

"He shot himself.." she said and stopped crying. I just remember her looking at me in the dark, waiting for my response. I had no idea what to say or how to react. I was confused and still somehow convinced she wasn't serious. Or this was some sort of mistake.

He. Shot. Himself.

It sounded so foreign. It sounded absurd. It sounded unthinkable.

Ike woke up and must have overheard what was going on. He just left the room without a word. The dialogue gets a little fuzzy here but I do remember asking her when they found him, (the day before) how she got here, (drove) how she found me, (called my friend Lisa) and who else knew, (only a few people.)

I only started to cry after she had told me every last detail. It was as if I was quizzing her to make sure this was really happening.

When I did start to cry, she said "just take your time," and hugged me. She began to cry again and all I could feel was discomfort. Just general malaise coupled with the awkwardness of seeing her. We had a very tenuous relationship, (at best) and I felt like I had to give her the show she was looking for.

She wanted to be the arms to hold me and comfort me. She wanted to be the star of this twisted show. She wanted me to need her. She wanted to be the adult in a situation for once.

I got up and went over to the stereo. I put on Long Long Long from the Beatles White Album, not knowing I would never be able to hear that song again without thinking of this moment. As it played I thought about my dad, who was a huge Beatles fan, and wondered if he loved this song as much as I did.

Then I cried. And cried. And cried.

The rest of the day is spotty. I know I called my best friend and she came over through the alley that divided our houses. I remember us hugging in the front yard and feeling safe that she was there with me. I didn't want to be alone with my step-mom any longer and needed a friend who I could trust. She stayed all morning while I sorted through things.

I remember trying act cool in front of my four roommates while I was packing, so as not to make them feel uncomfortable. I didn't want them to think I was the girl with the crazy father who would now be a loose cannon. That's pretty typical ME stuff. I worry about what other people think when I'm in the midst of a crisis. God forbid I should show an ounce of weakness. God forbid I should look vulnerable. God forbid I should let myself feel frightened.

It was a dark, dark day.

Paso Wine Fest 07

2007-05-21T16:47:00.000-07:00

Spent last weekend with the Moneys & a few of their Texan friends at the Paso Robles Wine Festival. We rolled into town about 8:00 pm Friday night and the fun didn't stop til the Hubby and I fell into bed last night at 10:30.

I believe Saturday was the longest drinking day I've had in a very long while. (Maybe since our big Hollywood Blvd. outing? Eeek. Gotta slow down on the marathon hooching.) We started out having a lovely lunch at Artisan accompanied by lots and lots of water. Made sure to carbo load so we'd have a nice base for the day. The food there was lovely. I had lobster bisque to start and Cal and I shared fish n chips. They make their own ketchup, yum!

From there we made our way to the park where over one hundred wineries were happily handing out samples of their finest. I remember really enjoying the Sauvignon Blanc from Graveyard and something white (?) from Rotta. The rest of the wines kind of blur.

After tasting for a three hours we wandered over to the Crooked Kilt, past the bagpipers and into the bar to have a few cocktails. Cal's mom was gracious enough to be our taxi the whole weekend and came to pick us up from the bar and take us home. It wouldn't be the last time that day.

We went home with just enough time to put on a fresh coat of deoderant and non-wine-stained clothes and headed back out to dinner at Villa Creek. Pitchers of margaritas started us off and we finished with dessert wine. I had the spare ribs and I sampled the tuna and buffalo but I don't have any pictures to show you because MY CAMERA IS BROKEN which leaves me PHOTO-LESS. No pictures of food! No pictures of friends! I hate this.

Sorry for the tangent. Back on track. So, before I knew it we were having dessert wine and splitting the bill. And that's the last time I saw my cell phone.

Oh yeah! That's right! Yes, now I am digital camera-less AND cell phone-less. Kind of like living in the 80s! Maybe I should embrace this? Throw out the computer too! (Oh wait, that's where I write this. Rats!)

After dinner, instead of going home and digesting our meal on the couch, (like regular folk,) we went BACK to the Crooked Kilt. And this valley girl who hardly ever DRANK when she lived in the valley, ends up ordering not one, BUT TWO shots of Jameson. On top of the wine during the day. On top of the two vanilla vodka - diet cokes. On top of the margarita at dinner. On top of the dessert wine. Good night moon.

We put some tunes on the jukebox, (Mr. Money and I had to duke it out about some musical preferences,) and we spent a great evening with the whole gang. The mom-taxi came to pick us up around midnight and we stumbled home and had a nice chat around the fire before turning in.

To our twin beds separated by a nightstand. Not that I was in any shape to do anything but fall asleep still wearing my hoop earrings.

Sunday morning we woke up bright and early and headed to Hearst Castle. I took a tour I'd never been on before and learned that ole' Randy was an animal lover too! He particularly loved Datsuns and always had one by his side. There was only one room in the whole complex that had air conditioning, and that was the kennel that held his dogs. Awwww! My kinda guy.

Afterwards the Moneys, the Texans and little old us headed up Hwy 1 to see the elephant seals. Then back down to Morro Bay for more fish n chips and saltwater taffy. We poured ourselves in the car about 6:30 and had a pretty uneventful drive home.

Thanks to the Moneys and Cal's mom for a wonderful weekend. We had an amazing time and can't wait to see pictures!!!

SO FUNNY

2007-05-16T13:55:00.000-07:00

As most of you know I have a little Betta fish named Feesh. (Or Foosh, Poosh, P-Fishy, Feesher and countless other names depending on the day.)

Here he is:

I spoil him rotten because I love him so much and he truly is the highlight of my work day. I thought I'd lost my mind the day I came into my office and actually hugged his tank because I'd missed him over the weekend.

This woman puts me to shame. Apparently she rescued a fish who could no longer swim. He is also recovering from mouth rot so she has to HAND FEED HIM. This woman is my hero. It's so heartwarming to see people who treat their animals with such love and compassion.

Hope you enjoy! Oh, and by the way, his name is "Dash". I mean, could you just die???

Peter and Twiggyman

2007-05-09T17:05:00.000-07:00

Favorite Peter Murphy song + Twiggy (whiskeyandspeed) Ramirez on guitar=
ONE VERY HAPPY VALLEY GIRL.

If I ever saw these two in a room together I'd probably faint on the spot.

Enjoy.

Grass Is Greener Preview!

2007-05-08T09:47:00.000-07:00

Hi kids,
My friend wrote and directed this fabulous new pilot. Take a minute to watch. You won't be sorry.

Going to see BRMC tonight- will post about it tomorrow. I can't wait!

Why I love Dusty's

2007-05-04T14:17:00.000-07:00

1. It's good karma to support the little guys. I feel like I'm giving back to my neighborhood to eat a block from my house.

2. They left up the "TAMALES" sign from the previous occupant even though they don't serve them and have nothing to do with Mexican cuisine.

3. The decor reminds me of my trip to Paris. And that's reason enough.

4. The food is outstanding. From their frequent fish specials to their long list of sides, including mac n' cheese and potatoes au gratin. Yum!

5. Service is always great and they never rush you through your meal. I don't consider myself a picky diner at all, but nothing infuriates me more than taking a bite of a starter salad and having my entree brought to the table two seconds later.

Or, when eating sushi, ordering a few dishes and having them all brought out at once. (Hello Pazazz on Hyperion!!!) It's not an eating competition folks. I'm out to eat because I'd like enjoy myself for a minute and savor the experience. (Unless, due to unforeseen circumstances I'm forced to eat at a Chili's or the like and in that case, please,PUH-LEASE just bring the food out as fast as you can..... and bring the check with my entree. And don't tell ANYONE you saw me here!)

6. One of the waiters is a Sommelier and always has great recommendations. AND doesn't make you feel inferior when you ask if the Chianti he suggested is dry as gasoline. (It wasn't. It was delicious.)

Some pics from lovely DUSTY'S BISTRO in Silver Lake.

Hooray For Hollywood

2007-05-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

All too often I take for granted that I live in one of the coolest cities in the world. When I travel, (abroad especially,) I get such a kick out of saying I live in Hollywood. But when I'm home it's just another east/west street that's congested at five. (And filled with tourists and transvestite hookers.)

However, to break up the monotony of having a ladies lunch in Silver Lake, AS USUAL, we decided to go to Musso and Franks for some steaks and a cocktail. (Which turned into lamb chops & THREE cocktails but that's between you, me and the lampost.)

After a delicious meal the four of us stumbled out with the best of intentions, only to mosey into a tattoo/piercing parlor and consider doing something painful or permanent.

OR BOTH!

The cashier, who looked like something out of National Geographic, tried to convince my friend that piercing back through her scar tissue on her stomach would actually hurt LESS than the first time.

The thought of that pretty much sobered us up and we left with no additional holes in our bodies. The rest of the day played out like a montage scene in an eighties chick flick. Kind of a cross between Can't Buy Me Love meets Valley Girl meets Absolutely Fabulous. =)

In between bar-hopping we bought trashy lingerie at Frederick's of Hollywood, took a tour of the Hollywood Wax Museum and had our Tarot cards read. Cindy Lauper might as well have been singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun while dancing behind us the whole day.

The beauty of the entire day was the fact that there was no plan. For me to say that really means something since I plan when I'm going the bathroom next. I love these girls and have such a good time with them. Here are a few screencaps from the day.

BEFORE THE WAX MUSEUM

AT THE WAX MUSEUM

AFTER THE WAX MUSEUM

AFTER ONE TOO MANY MARGARITAS AT THE CAT N' FIDDLE

"DRY OATMEAL." ME ON GEORGE TAKEI'S STAR.

I learned a new word today

2007-04-25T16:30:00.000-07:00

Boss asked me to find the social security number of a girl who worked on our most recent AMEX spot so we could pay her properly. When I found her timecard there was no phone number filled in.

So I checked the callsheet.

Blank.

No phone number, just a call time.

I called the Production Manager and Coordinator and both were
unsuccessful in tracking her down. (So far.)

Doesn't she want to be paid? More importantly, doesn't she want to be called again for future work?

(Not that we're inundated with openings for Japanese translators
but you get the gist.)

I asked the coordinator what he thought her deal was and he said, "YAKUZA." Then burst into giggles.

Ummmm, what's so funny?

OH, I GET IT. ha ha.

Damnit I hate when I don't get jokes.

Buenos Tardes

2007-04-19T17:53:00.000-07:00

Just when I thought I had fewer readers than South Carolina's Mensa
membership,
I stumble across THIS!
href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/bottleneck/2007/03/my_husband_aver.html">THIS!
I'm stunned!

It's a tiny mention but still, there are more of you out there than my husband and two friends. Gosh, golly gee schucks!

Yesterday I booked our tickets to Argentina. Yes, that's right folks. Packin' up and heading to South America for a little vacation in October. I'm going to have to pack enough zanax to take down a small country since in addition to our 16 hour flight there, we have three domestic flights booked to take us down to Patagonia and back.

Being the nut-job organizing freak that I am, I've
already sent out a "temporary itinerary" to the three friends we'll be
traveling with. Even though the trip is six months from now,
well.....it's never too early to have a plan! (No wonder I ended up
working in production.)

In other travel news, the Hubbie and I are headin'
to the desert this weekend. Palm Springs bound! We've rented a house
and plan on spending some QT in my favorite weekend destination.

Growing up we didn't have much money to go on extravagant
vacations. So we'd all hop in the car, (my grandma, grandpa and
parents,) and make the short drive east. (Well, now the two hours seems
short. As an eight year old in the back of my grandma's 1978 brown
Cadillac, the trip was eternal.)

We'd pull out of the driveway, out on to Pico Blvd., and I'd say, "How much longer??? Are we there yet? Ok, how about now? How much longer????"

I couldn't wait to get to the hotel, tear off my clothes and jump into
the pool. I'd swim until I pruned. Doing underwater somersaults and
asking anyone within earshot to "wait, watch me do THIS!"

I remember looking over the water to my Papa and seeing him
smile every time I'd do something ridiculously simple; like cannonball
into the shallow end. And he would clap and smile like I was Greg Louganis
doing a two and a half pike. When I think about these times, I can only
remember snippets. Bits and pieces of film on the cutting room floor.

But these memories, they stay with me and feed me to this day. My Papa's smile. The
way it felt to come out of the pool freezing and teeth chattering while
my Bubbie wrapped a towel, warmed by the sun around me. The most
delicious french toast breakfasts at Bill n' Shel's & eating with the whole
family. The frustration I felt when my mom would make me wear a T-shirt
over my swimsuit, (on top of the 45 Bullfrog greasy sunblock,) as extra
insurance so I wouldn't get sunburned. (Thanks mom. I REALLY do
appreciate that now.)

So many of my friends look back on
family trips with disdain. Not me.

Those trips are some of my best memories and Palm Springs will always be a magical place for me. I can't wait to pack up the car.

Except now it'll be Hubbie who will have to field the "how much further, are we there yet, ok now how much further???" questions.

And maybe I just might make him WATCH ME AGAIN when I do a summersault in the water.

More Uplifting News From Lovely South Carolina...

2007-04-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

From Foxnews.com:

Monday , April 16, 2007

COLUMBIA, S.C. —
Potential jurors were questioned Monday in the trial for a man accused of kidnapping and raping two teenagers and confining them to an underground room hidden behind his home.

Kenneth Glenn Hinson, 48, was arrested in March 2006 and is charged with criminal sexual assault, kidnapping and assault and battery with intent to kill.

The trial will be held in Darlington County, but because of pretrial publicity the jury was being selected at the Georgetown County Courthouse, about 70 miles away.

A pool of about 250 people reported to the Georgetown County Courthouse, said Cynthia Wragg of the clerk's office.

The case attracted national attention when South Carolina Attorney General Henry McMaster said during a four-day manhunt that Hinson — convicted in 1991 for the rape of a 12-year-old girl — could have been indefinitely committed to a state program for sexually violent predators after serving a nine-year prison sentence. Two review committees had recommended that Hinson be placed in the program, warning he could commit a future sex crime.

But Judge Edward Cottingham rejected the plan and set Hinson free. After Hinson's arrest, McMaster argued it was that crucial mistake on Cottingham's part that paved the way for Hinson to assault the teens in the dungeon-like space beneath his home.

Cottingham, a retired but active judge, has said he does not remember the 2000 case. Last year, Hinson appeared before Cottingham as McMaster presented his notice to seek a sentence of life without parole in the new charges.

The girls were sexually assaulted and were bound inside the underground room, but managed to free themselves and escape, authorities have said.

The room was just 4 1/2 feet deep and roughly the length and width of a midsize car. Its floor and walls were lined with two-by-fours. A single 75-watt bulb illuminated the space.

Let me get this straight. A South Carolina judge sets free a convicted child rapist so he can commit the crime again, yet all South Carolina's constituents can think about is banning gay marriage and showing scans of fetuses the size of m&ms to women seeking abortions. (Run on sentence anyone? I do that when I'm angry and can't wait to get the words out. Sorry. But this is just.... F'ED.)

More steam pouring from my ears. ARGH!

Friday the 13th Eve

2007-04-13T16:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of the windiest days in LA. When I finally made it home, dodging the fallen trees and sitting through the dead stop lights, I found the power out at home... and most of my neighborhood. I called our local restaurants and they were all closed as well- struck by the same power outage.

I decided this was the omen to finally try Asia- the restaurant we keep passing on Los Feliz; the restaurant I heard was really expensive and just so so. I'm so glad we finally made it. Yes it's expensive but so is Edendale and the food is just a bore. (Although the patio is fantastic for drinks.) We arrived to a somewhat empty restaurant that slowly filled as neighborhood kids realized the power wasn't coming back on.

Our server guided us through the menu and was friendly and honest with his suggestions. He suggested the seared tuna as an appetizer but said to get the sauce on the side. We ordered it and it was amazing. The tuna was some of the freshest I've had and seared perfectly.

Seared Tuna with Mustard Yuzu Sauce

For entrees Hubbie had the special of the night- a filet mignon with lobster in a pinot noir sauce, and I had the garlic salmon. Both were unbelievably tasty and with beautiful presentation. The pinot noir sauce was tart- not the usual sweet I'm used to. The salmon was delicious but it was swimming in sauce. The waiter warned us they were heavy-handed with the sauces so I expected it. However, my salmon was cooked perfectly and the haricot verts that accompanied it were crisp and yummy.

Filet with Lobster and Pinot Noir Sauce

Garlic Salmon

Our waiter was more than knowledgeable about the wine list and suggested a great Pinot. He was friendly and helpful to us first-timers. Prompt service and didn't rush to ask us if we wanted dessert. All in all a great experience.

When we got home at 10pm we saw we still had no power. In a cleaning frenzy I threw out all our half burnt candles so we were left with a flashlight, one scented candle and my Menorah with Channukah candles.

I did what any Jew would do. I had Hubbie light the Menorah and we had Channukah in April. Thanks Bubbie!

Our trusty Menorah

Kitty is still in his cast so all he wanted was to cuddle. Hubbie, our neighbor Cranky John and I had a lovely evening just chatting. No TV, no computer, no clocks, no lights. Just the glow of the Menorah and the comfort of friends. Maybe the blackout wasn't so bad. Maybe it's the city's way of bringing us together?

Hubbie & Kitty, relaxing in candlelight.

Mi Abuelita

2007-04-09T16:16:00.000-07:00

To celebrate Easter, Bubbie took us out to eat to El Coyote. You know,
Christ's last supper was the typical Seder fare. Brisket, matzo ball
soup, veggies with horseradish dip, dried out sponge cake etc. Pretty
dull considering it was his LAST MEAL ON EARTH. I bet if given the
choice he would have asked for tacos and margaritas!

Well, that's what I would have asked for anyway.

Not to brag or anything, but how many of you out there have had margaritas
with your 85 year old grandmother recently? (chirp chirp...) Well I have!

There are so many days when I'm frustrated with her because I have to
stop mid-story and explain what the world wide web is, or scream, "AMEX! AMEX!! WE'RE SHOOTING AN AMEX COMMERCIAL! NO, NOT FEDEX, AMEX
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!" because she refuses to wear her hearing aid.
But truth be told, she is still pretty feisty for her age and I get a
kick out of knocking back the sauce with her. (And she picks up the tab!)

Unfortunately the rest of my weekend wasn't as fun as cocktails with Bubbie. Tragedy struck Kitty and he ended up spending the night at the animal hospital. He had a dovetail stuck in his paw which resulted in an abscess. The vet removed the dovetail but inserted a device to drain the abscess, leaving poor Kitty in a cast all the way up to his shoulder. To make matters worse, the padding and gauze on the cast make his front leg about two and a half inches longer than it should be, causing him to walk on the three good legs and drag the bum front-right paw BEHIND HIM. You can just see the embarrassment on his face as he hobbles around like a pirate with a wooden leg. Not exactly the graceful Mr. Mistoffelees-like cat that he usually is.

Anyhow, we're taking good care of him and making sure he gets the R&R he needs. Now, if I could just get some for myself!

Men in Black

2007-04-05T16:08:00.000-07:00

"I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down/Livin’ in the hopeless, hungry side of town/I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime/But is there because he’s a victim of the times." -Johnny Cash

Hubbie came home last night, lookin pretty beaten down himself. He's been working really long hours lately and by the time he gets home it's almost my bedtime. But when he came home last night, dressed all in black with just the white of his t-shirt sticking out and picked up our black and white cat; well.... I just about died from an overdose of cuteness. I had to take a picture of my two men in black.

Something's Fishy

2007-04-05T09:20:00.000-07:00

Saturday night The Marrieds had plans for dinner followed by a birthday party at the Short Stop. We haven't been too adventurous cuisine-wise lately, keeping our date nights to places places like Ca' Del Sole and Morton's. However, desperate for a change, FBP and I thought it'd be fun to try Sushi Go 55 in Little Tokyo.

We had heard a rumor that they fly in their fish daily from Japan so we were determined to find out what all the hype was about. It's in a mini mall and the restaurant couldn't be less romantic if it had pinball games and sawdust on the floor. However, when our waitress came over to take our order and we realized she didn't speak a word of English, and we were literally the only non-Asians in the place, I knew the food had to be good. Right?

Hubbie ordered the seaweed salad to start and FBP ordered the vinaigered shrimp. What came was a dinner salad with a piece of seaweed on top and sliced octopus. Hmmmm? This language barrier thing might prove to be a problem. From then on we just pointed to the menu and nodded once for each order we wanted. Giggles engulfed the table from that point on- whether it was the sake and Sapporo or just the challenge of making sure we didn't order the monk fish liver; we were simply giddy. The salmon was some of the best I've ever had and the yellow tail was like butter. I was forced to try a bite of soft shell crab and really wish I hadn't. I'll never understand the desire to eat something that is still in its shell.

From there we headed to the short stop for Rachel's birthday party. Here's some pictures from the evening. We were having a blast and ended up dancing the night away with a lovely lady named Erica, also seen below. By the time we stumbled out of the bar and made it home I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. As I drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but smile a little, as another random "only in L.A." night came to a close.

Kabbullshit

2007-03-30T15:53:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to check out a class, (or series of classes) on Kabbalah for years now. I finally have some time in my schedule and could actually commit to a one night a week class. The Kabbalah Centre offers free introductory lectures for beginners Tuesday and Thursday nights, so last night I decided to go.

When I walked in I was greeted by two handsome young guys sitting at a table. They gave me a Hello My Name Is tag and asked me to fill out a form with my name, address, email, work profession (RED FLAG NUMBER ONE,) contact number and the usual how'd you hear about us box. (Let's see. I heard about Kabbalah since I'm Jewish and anyone who's awake while driving down Robertson can see the behemoth poster tauting the "free" lectures.)

I wrote my name on the sticker and was led to a small conference room with two round tables and a podium. I was the first to arrive so I picked a good spot, threw my stuff down and texted Hubbie. Two seconds later a gentleman comes in and sits RIGHT NEXT TO ME, even though there were seventeen other seats open. He introduces himself and he has a really thick Israeli accent so I couldn't quite make out what else he said.

That is until he said, "What brings you here?" (None of your business!)

"Well, I've always had an interest in Kabbalah and I am Jewish but don't go to temple much and I guess I'm looking for a little spirituality...in a nutshell" I say. I make it a point to look back down at my phone and continue texting because I don't want this guy hitting on me. Next thing i know he says, "so, you clean for Passover?"

"What?"

"YOU. You clean for passover, eh?" (Well, I plan on showering Monday, yes. WTF do you mean?)

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" as I raise an eyebrow. Then people start to file in. One woman was carrying a bottle of water so I asked her if there was a vending machine nearby. I had left mine in the car and was parched! She points over to the bookstore/giftshop. (RED FLAG NUMBER TWO) I run over and grab a bottle of water from the shelf and bring it to the register. It was then that I realized I was buying Kabbalah water. The label on the bottle literally read KABBALAH WATER and had a disclaimer at the bottom saying something like "although drinking water is good for your health, Kabbalah water makes no claims to be any better for you than regular old tap water but we're going to charge you $2.50 anyway because isn't the label cute with the clouds and red string?"

While I'm waiting to be rung up another woman comes up to me and says, "Samantha?"

"Yes???" I say.

"Come with me. Hurry up the class is starting!" she says with an almost shrill tone.

I run back to the conference room and still two more people wander in a few minutes after me, in no rush at all. Who was that woman and why did she single me out? (RED FLAG NUMBER THREE)

The lecture began by the teacher going around the room and asking what brought us there. There were only seven of us so that went by quickly. Especially since three of the seven didn't give an answer, one being Indecipherable Israeli dude.

After the forty-five minute lecture which was like listening to one big long teaser, the teacher asked if anyone had any questions. The guy to my right raises his hand and says, "I’m a personal life coach and I’m not making enough money. And I need to make a LOT more money than I do now. That is my biggest concern and I just want to know, will I learn how to make more money in this course? What class teaches about how to become rich? Does Madonna come to this center? On what nights? Any other celebrities come here? They do? OH that’s a bonus! So tell me, how much money can I expect to make after taking this course? As we all know you can never have enough money. And I just don't have enough money and I need to know what Kabbalah will do for me so I can make more money. And what if I miss a class, can I make it up? Can Madonna tutor me?"

I could not believe my ears. I was stunned. Was he kidding? Instead of the teacher saying something along the lines of this course isn't about making more money and if you're looking for that maybe you should take Donald Trump's Learning Annex class or better yet, hit up a Tony Robbins seminar.

Know what he said? "Kabbalah will make you a better businessman and bring wealth to you if you take these classes. Kabbalah can do amazing things in your life, you just need to know how to channel it."

Psycho says, "Ok great. When? When will I start making money? First class? Second class? If I take the class twice will I make twice as much money???"

The teacher says, "Why don't you ask one of our mentors here. Introduce yourselves. They are here to answer questions and assist you in the enrollment process." I look around and realize three of the seven people in the lecture are "mentors" there to get you to sign up for a ten week series. As soon as the teacher said that, the guy to my left says, "So, whaddaya think? Are you interested?" (NOT ANYMORE!!!!)

IndecipherableIsraeliDude...a mentor! There to chat me up I suppose. As soon as the teacher walked out it became very apparent that they were going for the hard sell on us. I wasn't gonna stick around for it either. I gathered my things and fished my keys out of my bag while I listened to INeedALotMoreMoneyMan tell a "mentor" that he had to check his calendar at home because HE TRAVELS A LOT FOR BUSINESS!!!!!

He said it so loud and so deliberate to make sure all seven of us heard him......in the 10 by 15 foot room. What a schmuck.

I high-tailed it out of there disappointed that I'd wasted an hour and a half, and sitting next to that shmegegge no less! I guess it's back to the drawing board for me as far as spirituality goes. In the meantime I'll go back to my old standby; drinking a bottle of wine while watching the Food Network. No doubt it's still when I feel the most peaceful.

Shalom!

What's next South Carolina??

2007-03-23T13:42:00.000-07:00

Well well South Carolina, aren't we busy these days. Apparently your state has no other pressing issues, (pesky education, poverty, health care, employment rates, LITERACY etc.,) so you have all this time on your hands to handle some really important issues.

Like passing a bill to REQUIRE women to have ultrasounds before an abortion. Makes perfect sense don't it? A woman desperate enough to have to go through a procedure that is traumatic in and of itself, but YOU South Carolina, YOU want to REQUIRE the woman to see the fetus she's aborting. Maybe the woman will change her mind and keep the unwanted baby and you are fully prepared to support her mentally and financially.

Oh, what's that? You aren't? Ooooh, I see. You're prepared to give her a used crib and some diapers. Hmm. Ok then.

Well I did a little research and by golly! South Carolina has 38% of it's children living in Single Parent households. 3rd highest below Mississipi (highest) and Louisiana, (second highest.) SHOCKING! For a state that's so moral and God-fearing.

Moving right along. Today I stumble across this headline.

South Carolina officially bans gay marriage; New Hampshire takes step toward civil unions.
Ahhhh I see. We can't let those evil homosexuals be equal with us you say. "Nearly four out of five South Carolina voters approved the amendment, which reads, "A marriage between one man and one woman is the only lawful domestic union that shall be valid or recognized in this state.""

Wait wait, let me guess! You guys passed this amendment because you had to make sure the institution of marriage is kept sacred, correct? Hmm, I think I'll do a little more internet research.

From Foxnews.com on March 2nd, 2007
"CLINTON, S.C. — A 23-year-old former teacher accused of having sex with five teenage boys was released from jail Friday after her father posted her bail.

Allena Williams Ward will be confined to her home, able to leave only for church and lawyer visits, and must wear an electronic monitor. She also must have no contact with the boys with whom she was accused of having sex.

According to arrest warrants, Ward, who is married, had sexual encounters in the past three months with the 14- and 15-year-old boys at Bell Street Middle School, at a motel, in a park and behind a restaurant. She is charged with sexual misconduct."

Seems to me you folks in good ole' South Carolina have some problems that have nothing to do with a woman's right to chose OR homosexuals and their right to get married.

As I said in my email to friends and family, I hope people stop going there on vacation, ESPECIALLY homosexual DINKS,(double income no kids folks,) and I hope the film community, (which is filled with homosexuals,) stop dumping money into that state to film there.

And that's my two cents.

Nevermind!!!

2007-03-15T19:19:00.000-07:00

At 4:00pm today my boss informed me that we had to get 4 specific cheerleader uniforms to London by tomorrow. Was that possible?

Ummm, let me see. NO. Why do you ask?

The thing about production is, why ask if it's possible or not? If it needs to happen, it needs to happen. If I had to sew those uniforms together myself and ride with them in the cargo bin of a FedEx plane, they were gonna get to London by tomorrow.

Of course our director had very specific ideas about which ones he wanted, and the costume house that owns them had already rented 2 of the 4 uniforms to some unknown TV show called Scrubs or something. Did that deter his plans? Nope. Before I could say, "ain't gonna happen bud," I was in the car trying to get from Santa Monica to Glendale in one hour. In 5:00 LA traffic.

To add insult to injury, (LITERALLY,) two exits into my death race was an accident that warranted 15 police cars to STOP TRAFFIC COMPLETELY on the most traveled freeway in Los Angeles. As I sat there at a dead stop wondering if this person's careless driving would cost me my job, I remembered that Hubbie works just minutes from said costume house, and could get there in a jiffy.

God bless Hubbie. He was there within minutes, (dropping everything at his own job to spare me mine,) and up on a ladder pulling cheer skirts and asking the difference between piping and pleats. Because nothing is ever easy in this business, he could only find a royal blue skirt and navy blue top. Or a burnt orange top and "reddish" skirt without stripes. Exactly the opposite of what we needed.

Traffic finally cleared and I was cruising at a swift 90 down the freeway, running through all the things I'd have to pack. Toothbrush, pajamas, sweater, ZANAX! Holy crap, I'm going to be on a plane longer than on the ground! I hate flying! I hate flying alone even more! Will they book me in business class? Will it matter when we're plummeting to the ground from 30,000 feet? SON OF A!

Usually I have weeks, if not months to prepare myself for a flight. Here I am with hours and it started to sink in. Was this the universe's little way of making me get over my fear of flying?

As I turned off the freeway ramp (on two wheels) and headed for the home stretch, Hubbie had found 2 of the 4 outfits needed. I had 10 minutes to find something comparable to replace the other two and pay for them before closing. Then I'd go home and pack, find my passport, talk to the travel agent, get a hotel, book a car service and forage for ZANAX!

Then, amidst the four voices talking all at once on my cell, I hear, "forget it."

Forget it? What?

"What????" I say.

"Forget it. It's off..." I hear my PA say, clear as a bell.

We all hung up just as I pulled in the driveway to the costume house. I see my Hubbie walking out of the warehouse with his hands in the air just shaking his head, smiling.

"Welcome to my world!!!" I say and go to give him a hug. He lit a cigarette and we had a giggle. I knew it was no use to get mad or pout. It's just another day in production. I'm not surprised. I've been doing this 8 years and episodes like this are as common as traffic in L.A.

What does continue to surprise me is my AWESOME Hubbie's devotion and the amount of support he's able to give. He truly is my knight in shining armor and I love him dearly.

Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

2007-02-15T14:37:00.000-08:00

Buying a house really is the most stressful event in the world. Well, maybe being a P.O.W or something is, but buying a house is probably second. I had no idea what we were getting into and if we make it through this with our limbs and sanity intact I'll be shocked.
While I search sites like West Elm looking for the perfect bedroom set, Christian looks for the closest homeless shelter to Woodland Hills because that's where he's convinced we'll end up after completing all the necessary repairs.
Meanwhile, he still has no idea what's in store for him in the next week. I'm afraid to write anything about it for fear that he may check this site so I'll just keep my mouth shut. Last night he gave me a dozen roses and a heart box o' chocolates for Valentine's Day. The card was the best part- said something like "I'd give you all the love I have but it's in escrow." CUTE. And below that he drew a picture of a guy with glasses (him) drooling. It was exactly something my dad would have done.
Of course I burst into tears but was laughing at the same time. What a mess. I explained and he understood completely. I love that man so much.
Keep you posted on the home.

Douchebag Of The Year

2007-02-15T09:58:00.000-08:00

From JMG:
This far right activist was convicted of incitement and sentenced to the maximum five years in prison Thursday for anti-Semitic activities, including contributing to a Web site dedicated to Holocaust denial.

Ernst Zundel was deported to his native Germany from Canada in 2005 and has also lived in Tennessee. He and his supporters have argued that he is a peaceful campaigner denied his right to free speech.

Unbelievable.

Our new home

2007-02-09T16:04:00.000-08:00

A Day in the life of FOOSH

2007-02-09T11:18:00.000-08:00

There's so much going on I don't know where to start. Well, the fish above is named Foosh. He's my boss's fish, given to him by his part-time girlfriend. Since my boss has a busier schedule than our President and doesn't even live in Los Angeles, I have been fish-sitting. And in the process have learned more than I ever thought I'd know about the lovely betta spendens fish. This little guy has more personality than most people I know. I bought him a new plant for his apartment, (bowl,) bloodworms, (to a betta that's akin to filet mignon,) and a temperature strip sticker so I can monitor the water temp. I think he realized he's being spoiled by me and in return entertains me all day long with his funny fish antics.

For instance, he will wiggle like crazy when I start to walk up to the bowl. And if I ignore him for a while, (actually work,) he does little drive bys on his side waving one fin. My favorite behaviour of all is when he plays Hide N' Go Foosh. He burrows down and hides behind the temperature sticker, but unknowingly just a little part of his red fin is sticking up behind it. It's so funny. The highlight of my week, (I kid you not,) was when I came in Tuesday morning and he'd built a bubble nest. I got the same feeling as I imagine a parent gets when their 8 year old scores a soccer goal or something. I even hugged the bowl.

I realize someday I may have to go on meds.

In other news I've been waiting all week to hear if we got THE HOUSE we put an offer on last Saturday. We offered, they countered Tuesday, we countered Thursday morning and now we wait. And wait. And wait some more. My nerves are shot.

The house has 2 and a half bedrooms (inside joke) and 1 and a half baths. Great kitchen, yard and light. The payment is enough to buy a small country but we've been wanting to buy for 2 years now and this house seems right.

Last night I had a dream that the seller wouldn't accept our offer. We were walking through the house together and I would point out the popcorn ceiling (which isn't there in real life,) and he would say, "yeah so???" It was so frustrating.

Well it's 12:47 and no word from our realtor. The only thing that's keeping me calm is watching Foosh starting to blow new bubbles, for hopefully a lovely weekend project. I'm going to get him a little shell or something to play Hide N' Go Foosh this weekend. I'm also getting a long overdue facial tomorrow and getting together w/ my FBP (future business partner) to go over some plans for an upcoming party.

Will check in tomorrow.

It's kind of like a sunburn, but on your crotch.

2007-01-26T16:03:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in so long, and I really don't have an excuse. It's been a busy, productive week. Went out to Ivan Kane's 40 Deuce for a birthday party last Friday night and had a blast with some friends. Sunday I enjoyed a lovely brunch at Veronika's house where I proceeded to stuff my face with way too much brioche. This week at work has been relatively uneventful, well, except for the fact that I now have a Siamese fighting fish as an office pet. I brought him in my office because it's the warmest in the building. And while I'm usually the first to complain about it, (especially when I have armpit stains at 10:30 a.m.,) I like that my sauna of an office is the perfect environment for my new friend.

Tomorrow is my first laser treatment appointment. I'm getting laser hair removal on my bikini line and while I'm thrilled at the prospect of never having to shave or wax again, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the slightest bit nervous. I believe it's human nature to be somewhat reluctant towards having someone pointing a laser beam at your nether regions. I was told afterwards it would feel like a sunburn. But I'm bringing the vicodin just in case.

Well, I'm going to end this post now because I don't think I could be more boring if I tried. I'll leave you with a little taste of what working in production is like. If you're offended by foul language I'd stop reading right here. This is from my FBP (future business partner)sent to me via IM around 5:12pm. It's pure perfection and just about anyone in production will get a real kick out of it. It's somewhat of a nonsequitur but you get the gist.

FUCKING 1st FUCKING AD (This is my favorite part of the rant. I wish that title fit on a callsheet.)

IM NOT THE FUCKING CAMERA DEPARMENT YOU FUCKING FUCK.. I DONT KNOW WHAT FUCKING GEAR THEY NEED FOR WHAT SHOT. I KNOW WE NEED A DOGGIE CAM, I KNOW THEY NEED TO CALL DOGGIE CAM, I KEEP ASKING THEM IF THEY'VE ORDER THE PROPER GEAR FOR THE SHOT..

IF I DID, I'D BE IN THE FUCKING CAMERA DEPARTMENT!!!!

Thank God It's Friday folks! Have a good weekend.

Top 10 List Of What Not To Say To Me If I Am Interviewing You For A Position.

2007-01-11T15:47:00.000-08:00

10) Nothing personal, but I think working in commercials would be a good jumping off point to get to my real goal- to work in film. (Oh really? Well then go get a job in film.)

9) You guys do Post Effects right? (NO jerkoff. Why didn't you go to our website (WHICH I LISTED ON THE JOB ADVERTISEMENT) to see what we actually do before coming to the interview. It's called PREPARING.)

8) Will I be guaranteed a job after the 3 month internship? (Would it be called a 3 month internship if there was a guaranteed permanent job at the end of it? If you haven't managed to piss me off after the three months has passed, I'll let you know if something permanent has opened.)

7) How old ARE you??? (I shit you not.)

6) I'm also a freelance actress and was wondering if I could leave early Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays for my "method" class. Oh and I may get last minute auditions that I'd have to run out to but you don't have to pay me while I'm gone. Oh, and if you could consider me when you're casting in L.A. that'd be great. (Not for all the tea in China sweetie.)

5) I applied for this internship two years ago but I never heard from you. (Crap! I knew you looked familiar! You're the one who listed taxidermy has a hobby. Eeew.)

4) What can I say that will convince you to hire me? I'll wash your car. I'll wash your boss's car! What's your favorite color? (Security!!?!?!)

3) I'm a director. I graduated Art Center. I brought my reel for you to view. My influences are Terry Gilliam and Darren Aronofsky. I take my work very seriously and would like this opportunity to grace your company with my presence. (Go F yourself.)

2) Hey, can I have a couple quarters for the meter? (You must be kidding. Or you must REALLY need this job.)

1) I went out on a limb here and brought you some avocados. Do you like avocados? (Yes.) I brought you some from my mom's yard. (Hands me plastic bag with about eight of them in it.) Do you like music? (Uhh, yeah.) Here, I took the liberty to make you a CD of a band I like. I'm a go getter, and as you can see, I'm pretty good at reading people! So when can I start? (How bout' never times infinity? Do you like infinity?)

I'll have a Veggie Burger with a side of hypocrisy

2007-01-09T13:50:00.000-08:00

Today is day seven of no meat. I'm really taking my resolution seriously and for a moment I started to pat myself on the back. One whole week of me not contributing to the mistreatment of animals! Not too bad. Has my PETA card arrived? Pam Anderson's gonna be my new best friend!

However, I have been eating enough fish these past few days to have every stray cat in the neighborhood surround my car when I get home. And from what I've read, the fishing industry isn't much better. But ya know? I can only do so much! I haven't committed to cutting meat out completely, but I must admit this last week didn't require that much effort or sacrafice.

Yesterday at the grocery market I did buy a pork tenderloin and ground turkey. I told my husband I'd cook the tenderloin, (which he LOVES,) tomorrow night. But to be perfectly honest, I could go another week meat-free. It's not fair for me to expect him to eat twigs and berries with me just because a book inspired me. Also we're going out to dinner for a friend's birthday here Saturday night and you bet your tushy I'll be getting me some braised meat! YUMMMMM.

In other news, last night the Hubbie and I had a lovely dinner, (salmon cakes over salad) and wine and discussed going to Italy. I showed him the cities I wanted to visit and told him a rough itinerary I was thinking about. He asked that I put it all together for him with prices of air, hotel, lodging, trains- all in an easy to read fashion. Than said, "That's not too much for you is it?"

The smile on his face indicated he was kidding. He knows nothing gets me hotter than making little organized binders for trips. I get little ONE thru TEN dividers and print color pictures and hotel ideas off the internet. Map directions, currency conversion tables, population and ethnicity rates....

I like to be prepared.

A good friend of mine called me C R A Z Y when I told her how much I was looking forward to doing "The Book." She said all she needs to travel is a plane ticket, sunglasses and a throw away camera. What are you kidding?

Different strokes I guess.

New Year's Resolutions

2007-01-04T19:55:00.000-08:00

So I started this blog to not only record my day to day, (ok ok rather, week to week,) silly former valley girl existence, but to also recall memories and set goals. Ones that I can look back and reflect upon and, well, as far as goals go- actually attain. For the first time I'm going to actually take my New Year's resolutions seriously.

No, really.

I mean it! And now that these are out in cyberspace I have to live up to them.... RIGHT? Because all 2 of you reading this will hold me accountable.

Ok, maybe not. Fine. Whatever. Here it goes.

(In no particular order...)

1) Get more active- gym, walks, yoga- ANYTHING to get my heart rate up besides drugs. (just kidding mom!) But seriously, make at least one time a week that my heart races due to something else besides one of my Director's wanting to fire their maid and asking me to do it.

2) Eat less meat. I know that makes me sound like a dirty hippie BUT, I just read Jane Goodall's Reason For Hope: A Spiritual Journey and it changed everything for me. (Since I'm pretty much daily meat eater.)

3) Travel to Italy. (LOOKING FOR FLIGHTS)

4) Do more for charity. (To my defense I do give money. But I either need to give more or donate actual time. There's no time like the holidays to make you feel grateful for what you have.) (And fight with your family =) )

5) Buy a house.

6) Start scrapbooking. (Ok, I just gagged a little too BUT, I am kinda sentimental AND know for a fact that some day I'll be drooling on myself in an old-age home and want nothing more than to see my own pictures- displayed in an easy-to-read BLOWN-UP format WITH captions fashion.) Run on sentence anyone???

7) Get pregnant. (Ok, that was REALLY hard to type.) So here's the deal. I'm pretty sure I want a kid. Of course I do, right? One kid seems ok for the time being. But it scares the living crap outta me. No more sleep. No more last minute plans. No more PERSONAL life. BUT, will I wake up one day and wonder why I didn't start having children earlier? Am I healthy enough to wait???

8) Figure out a "home-based" business with my friend, (and you know who you are,) that will allow me to, well... I don't know... NOT DRIVE THREE HOURS A DAY IN HELLISH LOS ANGELES TRAFFIC!!! Holy "crap", (expletive replaced due to unknown readers...,) when the F' did this city become so FRIGGIN crowded??? I'm officially LOSING IT.

Tonight for instance, on my way home from work I was LITERALLY banging my head to Bohemian Rhapsody (which is such a GREAT SONG!!!,) when I realized I had my "bird" finger cocked and ready. Some non-L.A. natives would think this might get me shot one day, but no, I drive through Santa Monica, Beverly Hills and Mid-City. Unless one of those beemers in front of me is "packin'", I'm pretty sure I can get my point across without being killed.

I'm sure I'll add to this in the next few days but for now, here they are.

EEEK

XO

2007-01-04T16:23:00.000-08:00

Today Elliott Smith's Waltz #2 came on my shuffled itunes.
I wasn't prepared for such a visceral reaction, especially at work. My
stomach sank and tears welled up in my eyes. Not because Elliott is now
deceased, (no I didn't know him and I don't know why I just called him
by his first name. I hate when people do that.) I think I choked up
because I had flashed back to those feelings that he so often sang
about.

Desperation. Loneliness. Sickness.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It reminds me of a time in my life where I was struggling to keep the
wheels on the cart and not succumb to a brown abyss. Where I spent
every day in a frantic scramble to get myself together, only to have
more and more chaos ensue.

The weird thing is, even 8 years later I still relate to this song. Only now it's under different circumstances.

I'm here today and expected to stay on and on and on
I'm tired
I'm tired

Looking out on the substitute scene
Still going strong
XO, Mom
It's ok, it's alright, nothing's wrong

Tell Mr. Man with impossible plans to just leave me alone
In the place where I make no mistakes
In the place where I have what it takes

I'm never gonna know you now
But I'm gonna love you anyhow
I'm never gonna know you now
But I'm gonna love you anyhow
I'm never gonna know you now
But I'm gonna love you anyhow

I have to go back to work now but my hope is that I never lose touch with
those feelings. Because then I'd forget to feel grateful for where I am
today, and all the things I mistakenly take for granted.

Can someone tell me

2006-12-21T13:41:00.000-08:00

How the F I post my pic on my profile but not on the main blog page???? I'm stumped.

I just called to reserve an airport shuttle for our annual migration east. I understand that my husband and I aren't the ONLY ones traveling 2 days before Christmas but can someone give me a F'ing break? Our flight is tomorrow night at 9:30 pm. The shuttle wants to pick us up at 5:30 pm. It only seats 7! Who else are we picking up? And from where? Sylmar??

I asked the reservation agent if it just might be easier for them to pick us up tonight- you know, to be sure! Jeez. My blood pressure is already rising. I'm also stressed out that my driver's license says my married name and my e-ticket says my maiden. I'm bringing a copy of my marriage certificate but, (and not to stereotype here,) but in MY HUMBLE OPINION, the TSA folks I've encountered have shown less brain power than my chair. A simple thing like a name change might just get me pulled aside and strip searched, who knows?

At least we can travel with liquids again. Well, at least ones that are less than 3 ounces and packaged separately in a zip lock quart sized baggy that can be x-rayed. Ahhh, the joys of flying with lip gloss again. Now I won't look like Nosferatu when I arrive D.C and see my inlaws. YIPPEE.

Hope ya'll have a great non-denominational winter-type holiday that may or may not fall in the month of December. =)

Trying to figure out this darn pic thing

2006-12-20T15:25:00.000-08:00

Taken directly from PETA's website

2006-12-20T11:21:00.000-08:00

I'm sorry for such a downer post so close to the holidays but I couldn't help but re-post this. Please take some time to read and clink on the few links. I rarely check PETA's site because I cry every time, but once in a while we have to force ourselves to see what's actually happening right under our noses. Possibly in lieu of a gift this season you could make a donation to one of the animal friendly organizations.

Inside Covance U.S.

Introduction

PETA's investigator was hired by Covance as a technician and worked inside the company's primate testing lab in Vienna, Virginia, from April 26, 2004, to March 11, 2005. The investigator's video documentation inside the lab started on July 30, 2004, and what she documented-the terror, sadness, sickness, injuries, suffering, and deaths of monkeys from the wild and Covance's own breeding facilities—will leave even the staunchest supporter of animal testing ashamed and all good people clamoring for justice. It will also make it perfectly clear that government oversight of labs such as Covance is a farce.

At Covance, animal technicians called the head veterinarian "Mr. Let's Wait and See." The primate staff—even those who were, themselves, often cruel to the monkeys—complained repeatedly about a young monkey with a broken arm being left untreated in his cage for four days. Apparently, "Mr. Let's Wait and See," the head vet at Covance, didn't know what to do about the bone break, and so he waited for a junior veterinarian to return from her time off. The junior vet immediately ordered the animal euthanized as the break was too severe to repair. She discovered and disclosed that the head veterinarian had given the baby monkey a drug that had little more effect than that of an aspirin for his unimaginable pain.

Not your average Bowie

2006-12-13T16:18:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid I had this Peter and the Wolf record and accompanying picture book. I used to play that record over and over again, turning the pages and looking at the pictures every time as if it were my first. When I'd hear the French horns play the Wolf's theme song, chills would run down my spine. I can still see the picture on the outside cover of the album, where saliva is literally dripping off the Wolf's teeth as he creeps up on the little unaware boy. SCARY!

I have a vivid memory of lying in bed with only my nightlight on and one of the sliding doors to my closet was cracked open. On the floor of the closet, propped up and leaning on my shoe rack was my Peter and the Wolf Album. The dim light from my nightlight just barely lit up the saliva covered TEETH, which was all I could see in the dark abyss of my closet. I pulled my frilly eyelet blanket up close to my mouth and thought very hard about what my options were.

I could stay in bed and simply spend the night staring at the teeth, making sure they didn't make any funny moves. I could yell out for my parents to come take the teeth away, but being all of 7 years old at the time, I wouldn't want them to think I was a baby. The third option seemed the most plausible, yet the most terrifying. I would leap out of bed, and hopefully only have my feet touch ground once in order to reach the closet, slam the door shut, and leap back on to my bed. Thereby lessening the risk that another set of unseen teeth, (that may be hiding under my bed in cahoots with the ones in the closet,) could jump out and have time to nip at my ankles. And that's what I did. And so help me, I'm not sure my feet actually touched the ground at all.

I can almost feel my increased heartbeat, cold sweat and slimy palms, just the way they were that terrifying night as I sit here listening to David Bowie and the Philadelphia Orchestra doing Peter and the Wolf. Amazing the things you retain from such a young age.

I'm convinced I truly feel classical music because I was introduced to it at such a young impressionable age. We'd spend Fourth of Julys at the Hollywood Bowl with picnics and blankets on our laps. We'd wave our little American flags and I'd cry at the end of the 1812 Overture. I still do! Sometimes you'll find me blasting Bolero on my ipod instead of the usual Dandy Warhols. And as I'm listening now, I love Peter and the Wolf as much as I did as a kid, playing it on my Fisher Price record player.

Last I saw of that record (a long long time ago,) it was packed up in the den of my parents house. Must make it a point to get it back, even just to see if those teeth are as big as I remember. =)

Tis' the season to be totally wiped out

2006-12-06T14:56:00.000-08:00

I have no idea how I let this much time pass w/out blogging. (Man I HATE that word. Maybe because it sounds so much like a hybrid of Barfing and Gagging? Maybe because all this self-indulgence does induce a gag or two once in a while?)

I know all 2 of you have been checking this site daily wondering if I've got "consumption" or some other sickness that would render me incapable of sitting up and typing. But nope. Just busy.

I have so much on my mind lately that to put it all down, (in a cohesive blogging fashion,) would require more brainpower than I can commit to right now. SO, I'll sum it up like this.

Thanksgiving was a success. Well, until around 11pm when we had to pull over on the way home to let one of the girls puke. A little too much HOLIDAY CHEER I suppose.

Speaking of holidays, dontchya just love this time of year? I put up all our Christmas decorations last night and Hubbie and I sat for an hour, listening to "Holiday Hits" basking in the glow of the twinkle lights. I just love sh*t like that! This weekend I'm hoping to convince him to take me to Pershing Square for a little outdoor ice skating. I mean, it just doesn't GET more Norman Rockwell than that! (Of course it'll be 80 degrees out...not exactly baby it's cold outside weather.)

I'm currently in the midst of family drama that I just don't want to get into right now. What I will say is that I need to make a commitment to myself to get these HUGE resentments off my chest and into the ears of the person who least wants to hear it. It will be a challenge. I'm considering writing a letter, (which was her way of dealing with it so I guess that's the level of communication she's comfortable with right now.) It's just odd to not be talking to the person whom I talk to the most. Bah.

More to write but must get going now.

Some Friday fun for you and me!

2006-11-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

Soundtrack shuffle

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?

So, here’s how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool…

Opening Credits: Sunday Morning Coming Down- Kris Kristofferson
Okkkkk- that's kinda weird.

Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.

Waking Up: Annie's Song- John Denver
Gag. What the hell is wrong with my shuffle? LOL

First Day At School: Big Indian- The Dandy Warhols
PERFECT!

well my friends do me so right,
I'm lucky this far,
maybe it's karma,
I get over them, but,
only at times.
well the future is frightening,
and I seem to be fighting it,
but soon as it's brightening,
well the future is brightening.

Falling In Love: Ghost Highway- Mazzy Star

Fight Song: I've Been Everywhere- Johnny Cash
Umm, this makes no sense whatsoever. Good song though.

Breaking Up: Stand- R.E.M.
Ok this isn't really turning out how I thought.

Prom: Live For Today- The Grass Roots.
Hmmm, yeah, that's cool I guess. IF I WENT TO PROM IN 1967!!!

Life: Nightrain- Guns n' Roses.
HAHAHHAH. Wow. There's just so much I could say about this.

Loaded like a freight train
Flyin' like an aeroplane
Feelin' like a space brain
One more time tonight

Mental Breakdown: Hey You- Pink Floyd
Perfect for that "mental breakdown" scene ON ACID!!!

Driving: New Life- Depeche Mode
(Would have preferred Never Let Me Down Again, which was written about Dave's car.)

Flashback: Xanadu- Rush
Why the hell is this survey making me look like such a hesher???
(Definition, found at www.urbandictionary.com: “Long-haired, usually mulleted person who listens and rocks out to metal or thrash music. Generally seen wearing acid-washed jeans, leather motorcycle or denim jacket covered with band and skull patches. Will often have a molester mustache.”)

Getting Back Together: Sowing The Seeds Of Love- Tears For Fears

Wedding: Draining The Pool For You- The Go-Betweens

Birth of Child: Crimson and Clover- Joan Jett

Final Battle: Lady Stardust- David Bowie

Death Scene: Elizabeth My Dear- The Stone Roses
Eeek. This actually gave me chills. Very cool.

Funeral Song: Return To Me- Chris Isaak
Now this is getting CREEPY

End Credits: Way Down Now- World Party
BRAVO!!! Love it!

Today is the greatest

2006-11-07T16:18:00.000-08:00

I thought I was done with my posting today but as soon as my itunes randomly played the well known Smashing Pumpkins hit "Today" I had an instant flashback to my college days.

(Mom, you might want to stop reading here....)

My friend Loo (nickname of course) was OBSESSED with the Smashing Pumpkins. Almost as obsessed as she was with speed or any speedy-like substance. She'd snort crystal for days while sitting at her kitchen table coloring one of these.

She had them taped up all over her apartment. It was a riot.

Anyway one night we were going to see the Smashing Pumpkins play at our college gymnasium. The campus was only a mile from her house so we decided to "pre-party" at her place and walk to the show. She didn't have any of her usual drug of choice that night so instead she was just drinking with the rest of us. After a few cocktails she decided rather than go without completely, we should pop some "minithins" (a.k.a ephedrine,) to give us a boost. I was not one to Just Say No at the time so I popped a few with her and anxiously awaited the buzz.

When we saw what time it was we realized that if we walked we'd never make it to the gym in time to see them start. So in a "minithin" frenzy we hopped on our bikes that were parked outside knowing we'd get there in just a jiffy rather than risk the long walk.

Boy were we right. By the time we reached the bike racks at the gym I was frantically looking around for my heart, which must have arrived a good five minutes before me. The two of us locked our bikes up, walked inside, and chain smoked throughout the entire set while I wondered if it was just guitar feedback vibrating in my chest, or my actual organs trying to kick their way out.

Yuck. I was a sweaty jumpy mess but I'll never forget the look on my friend's face when they'd play one of her favorite songs. And I will never be able to listen to that band without picturing some sort of velvet color-me-mine unicorn poster.

Gayface

2006-11-07T14:53:00.000-08:00

I'm really sorry but I am just taking so much pleasure in this guy's misfortune. It's not the sexual acts he performed, nor the crystal meth he snorted, but the outright intolerance of homosexual behavior leading up to these revelations (HA!...Pun intended...hee hee,) that make this guy so unbelievably repulsive. He brings the word self-loathing to a whole new level. As in OFF THE CHARTS!

To be honest, I'm really not a fan of "outing" people. I wouldn't want someone running around announcing to the media what I like to do in bed. (Eat, watch QVC, drink all my husband's water, sleep-talk, tickle my own arm to sleep... you know, the usual.) HOWEVER, in this case, when someone is so vocal and INFLUENTIAL with their hatred of a certain group, and come to find out he's one of them, well, sorry. Karma's a bitch ain't it?

Moving on. I'm starting to feel better after my little birthday stint in the hospital. Last weekend I caught up on some chores and laundry and had a belated birthday dinner with my Bubbie. This week my friend and I are finalizing the Thanksgiving menu and guest list and I think I'll do a trial run of the soup I plan to make. Also, this Friday is one of my best friend's birthdays and she's turning my lucky number- which I won't disclose because she might punch me in the nose for telling her real age.

Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE. You know how much I love you and hope this year brings everything you wish for. This is for you!

Happy Halloween!

2006-10-31T11:33:00.000-08:00

Now are these not 2 of the hottest pics ever??? There is just something about androgynous men that's beautiful. Call me crazy. I showed my friend these before posting and she said, "man you're weird. But I dig that about you."

I'm sitting at work listening to Bauhaus and Crass having a jolly ole' time. However, the weather outside isn't exactly conducive to a spooky halloween day. I think it's 80. Ugh. I hate this about L.A.

Marilyn Manson's art gallery opens today on Melrose. I'd love to go but I'm sure you need an invite for the opening. I'll try and hit it this weekend. His paintings are truly beautiful and I encourage anyone who isn't familiar with them to take a look.

My birthday last week was a bust to say the least. After suffering all day with abdominal cramps, Hubbie rushed me to the hospital at 11pm. 3 shots of morphine and a CT scan later I'm given 2 rounds of antibiotics and told to schedule a colonoscopy.

Shitty. (Pun intended.)

Last night I started reading The Dirt: Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band. It was one of my birthday gifts and after 4 chapters, I can tell I'm going to love this book.

Unfortunately I have to go back to work now. I just had to steal a minute to update or Veronika would keep bugging me! =)

Have a spooky Halloween!

I'm surrounded by idiots

2006-10-19T16:51:00.000-07:00

Work is officially pushing me over the edge. I've been so busy that I haven't had a second to post. (I haven't posted in the evenings at home because I can't type with one hand, and I simply refuse to put down my wine glass until bedtime.)

I'm so fried right now that I'm struggling to find something to say that doesn't take a couple expletives to describe. Say for instance this morning when I suggested 11:00am PST as a good time for a conference call with our New York office, only to have the ACCOUNTING clerk on the other end of the phone say,"11:00 am PST....so what time that would be in New York???"

Last weekend a friend came over and between her, my husband and I we drank 4 bottles of wine. That pretty much left me useless the rest of the weekend save for a manicure that was desperately needed. So this weekend I plan to actually see the light of day. (Well sorta.) The girls and I are going to see Marie Antoinette at our fancy Hollywood theater, followed by what else? French Martinis!

(No, not cake- haven't you been paying attention?)

My birthday is next Wednesday. I'm having mixed feelings. My mother and I share the same birthday, and she's always hated to acknowledge her age, so every year it was just about me me me! Which is great! Until you hit your late 20s-30s. Now it just seems silly to get excited about a birthday. Or to assume it's any more special than any other day. I mean, who celebrates 32?

When I was a kid, 32 sounded ANCIENT. I couldn't even wrap my head around it- couldn't imagine myself that age at all. I've always had this fear of getting older- even when I was young. I turned 18 and was content to stay there forever.

I know, scary right?

On my nineteenth birthday my mom got me a "Quick n' Easy Chicken" recipe book. Seems like a good choice for a daughter who was just out of the dorms and in her first apartment with a kitchen, right?

I cried. Sobbed uncontrollably. I remember my roommate at the time hugging me and trying to console me by saying "it's just a cookbook!" But I knew it wasn't. It was the beginning of adulthood. The beginning of self-reliance. The beginning of taking responsibility for myself. The beginning of many many more years of (GASP) having to face the consequences of my actions.

I know what you're thinking. I should be washing down some crazy pills with my wine at night. Maybe? Maybe it WAS just a cookbook. Hell, now I collect em'! I guess my point is every year that passes I'm reminded of where I am, where I thought I'd be, where I should be, how much of my life has already passed, what does the future hold? And it scares the crap out of me.

I guess the good news is that I'm not alone. I have an amazing husband, wonderful friends and the most supportive family anyone could ask for. And that is the best birthday present of all.

Vegas baby, Vegas

2006-09-29T15:16:00.000-07:00

I know I know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas but I had to get a little confession off my chest. It’s been keeping me up at night and I figure what better way to come clean than to confess to the whole cyber world. (Or all three of my readers. Same difference.)

Thursday night the girls took the bride out for a lovely sushi dinner where I had my very first (and second) Long Island Ice Tea. Yum! We then headed over to Shadow Bar for some bottle service and extreme booty shaking. By this point the bride was tossed and I was well on my way. We hit yet another bar before the girls decided (at 4am) that they’d had enough and it was time to get some shut-eye.

We should have done the same.

The bride and I thought it would be much more fun to pop a bottle of champagne and take a bubble bath. Together.

Before you could say EVERY AMERICAN JOCK’S WET DREAM, (hi Mom!!!) were naked in the tub with the jets on, pouring a mini bottle of shampoo under the running water.

Side note: Can you believe in a hotel that costs $350 a night they don’t provide bubble bath??? Why have a Jacuzzi tub and no bubble bath! Who uses the shoe polish??? I mean, come on now!

Ok, back to the story.

We finished a bottle of Veuve Clicquot while blabbering and professing our love for one another. Not in a perverted way, but in a I’ve had 10 drinks and there’s no one I’d rather be with than you right here in this tub and I’m so happy we met and are friends and our husbands are friends and HICCUP I think you’re so pretty and we should go to Europe together!!!!!

Then we opened another bottle of champagne and that’s when things took a turn.

Cut to 7:30 am where the bride and I are on the bathroom floor, blasting Nirvana and doing the unspeakable. Yes mom, it’s true. I have truly let you down and disregarded the one rule you begged me never to break. I lasted almost thirty-one years, and I blame it on the two Long Hangover Iced Teas. Our necks weren’t sore from dancing at the club as I had led you to believe. I’m sorry I lied.

The truth is, on that bathroom floor, in the still of the night (morning) we were in fact, playing air-guitar. Well, technically I was on air-guitar and the bride was on air-drums. And you know what? It was A LOT of fun. It felt so good to be so bad.

Let the self-flagellation commence.

Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler...

2006-09-19T15:04:00.000-07:00

Great news! Hubbie was promoted Friday! And with the promotion comes a move into HIS OWN OFFICE! No more cubicle sharing with the peons in rentals- he's got his OWN OFFICE! Which probably comes with his own one of these!

HEE HEE!

I'm so proud of him. In a year and a half he's received 2 raises and 2 promotions. Quite an achievement.

In other news, our one year anniversary is this weekend. While last year at this time I pictured us eating the top tier of our wedding cake in bed, (carrot cake- my favorite,) while watcing me almost faint on our wedding video- the day is turning out to be the polar opposite. Our two best friends are getting married this weekend in fabulous LAAAAS VEGAAAAAAAAAS. And while we couldn't be happier for our friends, because of the timing, it looks like we will spend our first year anniversary of marital bliss hungover in the airport and subsequently on a plane. I'm pretty sure they stock the planes back from vegas with barf bags but I sincerely hope I don't have to use one.

Considering it took me two days to recover from the bachelorette party, I'm going to have to watch it. Speaking of the bachelorette party- the following are just a couple photos from that fantastic evening.

Fat bird

2006-09-13T14:19:00.000-07:00

The middle finger on my right hand, (my bird giving finger,) is swollen and red. It's throbbing and I can't move it at all.

Is the universe trying to tell me something?

Does this mean I have to have a hiatus from giving people my jive turkey? Bummer.

If I was going to get all introspective and stuff I might think I need to relax a little, not take things so seriously. Not stress out as much. Not drive to work with "Immigrant Song" blasting. (just kidding.)

I've had so many frustrating interactions lately it's hard to imagine me being the type of person to just "go with the flow- like a twig on the shoulders of a heavy breeze..." (And if anyone can quote what movie that's from you can be my new best friend. Not that you'd want to be after this post.) But seriously, I don't see how people don't just scream when they have to deal with stupid people?

I want to know the secret. Someone let me in on it. And don't say yoga. I want to know how to stay calm in the face of aggressive stupidity without xanax.

I know I know...

2006-09-08T17:40:00.000-07:00

I can't believe how long it's been since I posted. I had grandiose dreams of documenting the whole Maine trip and writing witty stories here accompanied with pictures of all the Dunkin Donuts we passed but... I've just been too damn busy.

I'm off to a friend's birthday dinner tonight and tomorrow night is the last bachelorette of this wedding-filled year. 8 girls, 1 stripper, 1 hotel suite and many bottles of booze. I hope to have at least SOMETHING to write about Monday.

And I will get the Maine post up... although it'll probably be a three-parter. In the meantime here's a picture I took in Camden. I was laying down on the grass just watching the boats. Beautiful day.

Ahoy Matee

2006-08-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

Last weekend was all about pre-nuptial engagements for me. A bachelorette party on Saturday and a bridal shower on Sunday. I feel like I’m on the bat mitzvah circuit again, only this time we can drink.

The bachelorette Saturday was held at a really frou-frou spa in Santa Monica. We had all made massage appointments and were supposed to “take advantage of the other spa facilities” while we waited. The other spa facilities were a steam room, a sauna, a quiet room and a Jacuzzi. I couldn’t help but notice how many women were perfectly comfortable walking around stark naked. Naked in the Jacuzzi, naked with their legs spread in the steam room, naked in the shower, naked blow-drying their hair???

When the spa guide handed me my robe and slippers I asked her where I should change. She looked at me puzzled and said, “right here of course.”

We were standing in the hallway between the bathrooms and steam room.

“Oh, ok then.” Ugh.

I found myself just kind of pacing around from room to room. The steam room was too steamy, the sauna was too hot, (go figure,) and the quiet room was…well… too quiet! So I went out to the lounge in my robe and read a Glamour magazine and waited for my massage.

It’s not that I’m a prude by any stretch of the imagination, I swear! But, I guess the whole spa thing isn’t for me. I recently found out I’m the only one of my friends who leaves their underwear on during a massage?

I JUST started allowing male masseuses again after a long hiatus. The hiatus was brought on by my very first “spa” experience in Ojai, CA. My dad’s girlfriend at the time brought me to one of those hippie, health-food-serving, eco-friendly resorts. And by resort I mean there were 4 walls and a parking lot. She had scheduled us each a massage but didn’t specify male or female when booking.

Her masseuse comes out and she’s a 20 something beautiful Asian woman with a big smile. My masseuse comes out and he’s 50 something with a wooden leg, an eye patch and a beard down to his chest. All he was missing was the Jolly Roger Flag and parrot on his shoulder.

I spent the entire massage stiff as a board, all the while staring through the head support at Long John Silver’s wooden leg humming Yo Ho Yo Ho a Pirate’s life for me.

Having said that, all my inhibitions fly out the window when it comes to back tickles. I’ll let anyone who’s willing scratch or tickle my back. Son of Sam could scratch my back and I’d ask him for 5 more minutes.

Go figure.

So tired

2006-08-04T10:10:00.000-07:00

I went out to dinner last night with a few of the girls to celebrate a new job and mourn a breakup. I'm not sure what hit me but my eyes were closing at the end of the meal because I was so tired. I only had one margarita, (which for any of you who know me know 2 is usually my minimum,) and I barely touched my food.

I left the restaurant around 9:20 and couldn't wait to crawl in bed. About six blocks from my house I saw AT LEAST 25 of these surrounding the area.

I was pretty sure it was a shooting and a neighbor friend of mine confirmed later it was indeed a narcotic related homicide. When I got home Hubby was still out having drinks with the guys. So I got in bed and thought I'd be able to fall asleep in minutes. The police tape didn't even phase me... or so I thought?

An hour later my heart was pounding out of my chest and I was so jumpy that even the sound of the air conditioner turning down made me gasp. I called Hubby to get his E.T.A and when I stood up I felt like I weighed 300 pounds and my head wasn't attached to my body. I felt loopy and out of it and as if I had actually had 6 margaritas instead of 1.

It really freaked me out and to be honest, as independent a woman I consider myself to be, I honestly could not wait for Hubby to come home. I'm sorry this is such a bummer post but I'm wondering if what happened last night was a legitimate anxiety attack or a sign that it is in fact time to move out of my beloved bohemian ghetto.

In other, more uplifting news I've got a jam packed August ahead of me. A bachelorette party for one of my oldest friends, a bridal shower for one of my newer friends, (who I absolutely adore and couldn't be happier for,) a week long trip to Maine with my inlaws and cousins and a trip to Big Sur for labor day weekend. Stay tuned for (what I hope will be) more interesting and wacky adventures from your now anxiety ridden formerbutsoontobecurrentvalleygirl.

Happy Friday.

BWI

2006-07-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

No, not the airport. Is there a rule about not blogging while intoxicated?

Just got home from dinner with Bubbie and Hubbie. We had a wonderful seafood dinner at a popular Beverly Hills restaurant. But I couldn't help but notice most of Bubbie's comments were, "THIS JUST ISN'T MY WORLD!!!" It was hard to ignore since she said it every five seconds.

My Bubbie grew up during the depression- she has stories about pushing her favorite doll in a stroller down the street to a neighbor's house, only to find out as a teenager that she was smuggling gin under the doll's blankets during prohibition.

She totaled her father’s Buick on a wild teenage night, stealing the car out of the garage without so much as a driver’s license.

She met her husband of 45 years on a booze cruise to Catalina Island because his cousin was so drunk dancing with her that he spun her across the floor, (nearly throwing her to the ground,) and she landed in my grandfather’s arms.

But at dinner, all she wanted to know was, “What is myspace.com, what is youtube.com and what on earth is this thing called google????”

She even asked what a blog was, only she pronounced it with a soft G. Like mirage….

I kept my mouth shut, as I haven’t told most friends/relatives about my blog. I explained to her that a Blog is somewhat of an online diary that any internet user can read.

She looked at me like I just took a bite of my napkin.

And again, said, “THIS JUST ISN’T MY WORLD!!”

Then the bottle of wine arrived that I ordered. A lovely Pinot Noir from Santa Maria and she asked the waiter, “Is that chilled????”

Yep, this just isn’t her world alright. She must not have seen Sideways.

Top 10 Things That Made Me Feel Old This Week

2006-07-14T17:18:00.000-07:00

10. Going to see Pirates of the Caribbean 2 opening weekend. (That in itself would be enough but there’s more.) Getting there an hour early to find the only remaining seats left were in the second row. I spent the whole movie squinting at the screen, checking Hubbie’s watch, trying to find a comfortable position for my back and barely holding in my mouse-sized bladder.

9. Getting up at 7:30 am last SATURDAY to run errands, which included breakfast with the girls, laundry, a trip to David’s Bridal to try on a bridesmaid dress, lunch & a cocktail, a fantastic manicure at a new spa near my house and a trip to the market.

8. Speaking of the market, splurging on a case of Vitamin Water there, (rather than the usual wine and vodka.)

7. Spending $97.00 on anti-aging skin products. Wow, it physically hurts to admit that.

6. Going out to the Troubador Wednesday night to catch a friend’s band.

AT 8:30 p.m!!!

My grandma goes to shows later than that.

5. Calling my new health insurance plan to make sure my heartburn medicine won’t cost me more than the last coverage I had.

4. Planning a picnic and movie night for all my friends. . . . at a cemetery. No, I’m not joking. Check it out here.

3. Laying in bed last night reading a book, screaming out to Hubbie when the phone rang, “WHO HAS THE NERVE TO CALL THIS LATE?????”

It was 9:00 pm.

2. UM, this may be beating a dead horse but, I WAS IN BED ON A THURSDAY NIGHT AT 9:00!

1. Looking forward to the best Friday night ever- cuddling up with Hubbie on the couch and watching a movie.

Friend Abroad

2006-07-10T23:30:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I missed your call today but this post will be in honor of you- and how much I miss you.

I miss our talks over coffee and cigs, margaritas and floatie things in the pool. I miss our talks when you'd make me get the courage to stand up for myself but still hug me when I couldn't. I love that you're my friend through endless tortuous stages of life and yet you never whine. I love that you always have a plan. I love that you laugh at my sarcasm instead of wince. I love that you are with a man who doesn't judge the looney company you keep- (i.e. my mom. =))

Most of all I love that you tell the truth, always, whether it hurts to hear or not. I was lucky to meet you, have a crush on you for a day, and gain one of the best friends I've ever had. Please come home soon.

xoxo

Marvels of Aviation

2006-07-05T16:30:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture I took from a catamaran cruise on Lake Tahoe. We spent last Saturday through Tuesday with some friends who own a house up there just hanging out and relaxing. Beautiful scenery, great home-cooked meals and perfect weather were the highlights of the holiday weekend. We slept-in every morning, ate a huge breakfast and walked 6 shorts blocks to the lake where we’d set up base camp. Base camp had at least 6 chairs, blankets, a cooler with snacks and drinks, a raft with two oars, bocce ball, dominoes, rummy cube and more magazines than a newsstand.

At one point 4 of us were playing bones, (that’s dominoes for all you novices,) listening to NWA bobbing our white heads up and down. I told my friend that Easy E must be spinning in his grave wondering where he went wrong. Hubbie kept turning the music down while we kept turning it up. I may be wrong but I think he was a little embarrassed.

The night we took the sunset sail was the only night we went out to a restaurant for dinner. The joint was right on the water and had a cover band playing Hendrix and Zeppelin tunes amongst other 70s favorites. Their specialty drink was a rum runner, (which is the last thing I would order anywhere else, but when in Rome…) After 3 rum rummers, (yep, the typo is intentional,) I was a convert. Dinner was ok, but the entertainment was even better. No, I’m not talking about the cover band. I’m talking about the woman next to us who was so high on crystal meth she only had one shoe on and couldn’t stop dancing in her chair. I saw her attempt to take a bite of food but she just looked at her fork like Superman would kryptonite.

It was then that I realized just how many people in Tahoe had missing teeth and sloppy tattoos. I could almost go so far as to say I was the only one without a tattoo, except for my best friend who’s house we were staying in. All my friends would say when I’d make a comment about it is, “Welcome to norcal Sam.” Huh?

With this said, we all know fun comes with a price. Our flight up was at 8:20 Saturday morning. Hubbie and I had to be up at 6:00 am to get to the airport, park, get through security and for me to take my happy medicine. (Xanax =), it’s the only way to fly.) We were just about to board the plane when over the speaker comes this announcement: “Southwest regrets to inform you that flight #14 is delayed due to a dead battery. Please be patient while we fix this issue and we should be in the air in no time.”

WHAT?!?! Dead battery like when my car’s battery is dead? Did the last pilot leave the radio on? What’s the battery for? Hubbie said to calm down; he heard a Delta plane had cables and was on it’s way over to give us a jump. Hardy har har. The last word I want to hear before boarding a plane is dead! Dead anything. Deadbolt, deadbeat, dead ringer- NOTHING. I kept my cool though and 45 minutes later we boarded the plane for a fabulous long weekend.

Hope ya'll had a great one as well!

Daydreaming

2006-06-28T14:45:00.000-07:00

Work has been pretty slow lately. Summer usually is but this is getting silly. We have one big job in house right now and the shoot requires a virtual menagerie. Something like 100 different animals on the set over the course of 6 days. I was telling a friend that I just got an invoice for the woodpecker's "handler" citing his fee and list of demands. A "woodpecker rider" if you will. I joked to my friend that the first image I had after reading over the invoice was that of the woodpecker, sitting in his star trailer smoking a cigar and groping the make-up girl; all the while squawking "where the hell's my lunch???"

Meanwhile all I can think about is being here:

That was taken from our condo balcony in Maui. Absolute heaven.

Or here:

I would even settle for being here because at least it was still in Maui:

(Even though the hillbilly couple in front of us kept INTENTIONALLY driving through piles of cow dung just to watch it splatter.) That's the thing about Hawaii though, even when covered in sh*t it's still a good time!

Tequila and Popsicles

2006-06-26T17:54:00.000-07:00

I went out last Saturday night with "the girls" to a goth-inspired Mexican restaurant for dinner and what turned out to be WAY TOO MANY margaritas. We had to wait a while before being seated so we filled our empty stomachs with booze hoping to quiet the growling. By the time we sat down for dinner we all were stumbling, ravenous, and LITERALLY didn't speak for a good 5 minutes after the food arrived. I had the Caesar salad with steak. Yes, this is an important detail to the story so just keep reading.

When we finished eating one of the girls and I went outside for a cigarette to the packed patio of twenty-somethings waiting for tables at the bar. I guess eating at 9pm like we did is considered the early bird special on a Saturday night, seeing as most of the restaurant’s patrons were eating closer to 11. As we stood out there smoking, purveying the crowd, I noticed a girl wearing a great little corset-like top and matching skirt. I leaned into my friend and said, "look how cute she looks, I love her outfit!" My friend nodded, looked her up and down and kept on smoking. But, just at that moment the girl turned to look over at us and quickly turned away, realizing the two of us were essentially staring at her. Not in a creepy way, but definitely looking. She moved in closer to her friends, (probably for protection,) and I leaned over to her and said exactly what I said to my friend, "hey, I love your outfit, you look great!"

And she says, "ARE YOU MOCKING ME???"

Now, this girl had to have been a good 10 years younger than me, and seemed relatively new to the whole "bar scene.” In fact, she was probably just out of college. Yet, I couldn't help but wonder what happened in her past to have her automatically assume I was MOCKING her by complimenting her choice of clothing?!?! Was she teased by the girls on the playground in grammar school? Did the cheerleading squad spread rumors about her in High School that scarred her for life? Did the sorority girls give her the silent treatment?

Or, are we ladies so inherently competitive with one another that we automatically assume a fellow woman's random compliment most likely is a jab? After assuring her I wasn’t being snide, I went back to our table and felt happy for once to be in my 30s, because that insecure thought would never cross my mind now. Well, unless I saw a couple girls pointing and laughing… I mean, I’m not an idiot! =)

The next morning I woke up and pounded a glass of water. I thought I was thirsty because of the 4 margaritas I drank. Lo and behold, it was not the tequila, but a raging case of food poisoning. I spent most of the day Sunday puking my guts out in between trying to keep chips of ice and licks of popsicle down. Not exactly how I planned on spending the day.

By 4:00 PM the next day my stomach muscles were STILL sore from all the heaving. I was WAY over my “happy to be a strong 30-something woman with relatively good self-esteem” and busy cursing my stupid 30 something body knowing full well in my twenties I would have bounced right back.

And that my friends is the beauty of being a woman- the right to change your mind whenever it suits your mood. =)

Put Down the Tongs and Step Away From the BBQ

2006-06-20T12:06:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday night Hubbie offered to help a friend install an air conditioning unit in his bedroom. His fiancé and I thought it would be a nice gesture to cook our men dinner after all their sweaty labor and picked up a few things at the market for a BBQ. We found 4 thick juicy rib eye steaks on sale so we snatched them up along with some corn, salad and fixins to make sangria. When we got back to their place we immediately put together the sangria because, well, that was the most important item and the rest could just be thrown together when the guys were ready. Before I know it we're 3 glasses deep and feeling a GREAT sangria buzz when the guys say they're hungry for dinner. My friend asks me to put the steaks on the grill and she'll heat up the beans and boil the corn. I tell her very clearly that I've never manned a BBQ and she insists it's no problem- just throw them on. She runs outside for a second and comes back in saying it's heating up and I can throw the steaks on in a minute. So I do.

And I left them on for all of 8 minutes. Which does NOT seem like a lot of time does it???

When I come back to flip them, what I see is 4 pieces of beef jerky, half the size of the steaks I had just put on minutes before. "What happened!?!?" I screamed to my friend in shock and horror, (with a slight slur from the sangria.) "OH CRAP, I forgot to tell you I had the BBQ on high to heat it up" my friend screams, (slurs,) from the kitchen.

With no way to repair them and nothing else to grill, we put the dog treats, (steaks) on a plate covered with foil. Is it possible that the “reverse-cooking” fairy would pay a visit to our Frisbees while we forced our husbands to drink heavily and eat their salads, corn and beans? Or, maybe they'd just forget all about the steaks we bought?!?

No such luck. As it turned out, we had to bring out the steaks and I'll never forget the look on their faces. As we all cut into our respective leathery discs, (which was no easy feat I tell ya) I say, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen steak turn white.” This prompts Hubbie’s friend to say, “wow, I don’t think I’ve seen dust come out of a steak before.” After a few more jokes about my steak being “the other white meat” we retired our meal and continued drinking into the night.

I gotta say the guys were pretty good sports and I’m really glad we got that meat on sale. I think I’ll stick to good ole’ stovetop cooking and leave the grilling to the men- or at least next time, try it sober.

Birthday Boy

2006-06-16T14:26:00.000-07:00

This morning on my usual work commute, I saw something quite UNusual. At 7:45 A.M, I see a man, handcuffed, being led towards a police car, naked as the day he was born. Homeboy was not even wearing socks, let alone underwear. He wasn't resisting, just walking along with a policeman on each arm as if he was enjoying their company on a leisurely stroll. Of course I immediately called the hubbie and explained the situation, cackling the whole time. This is exactly why I love living in the city. I can guarantee that I'm not going to get that kind of morning entertainment commuting from the West Valley. I guess after 2 plus years of commuting from what is essentially downtown LA, through Hollywood, through Beverly Hills and arriving in Santa Monica, I’ve become attached to the usual cast of characters that inhabit these areas.

In Silver Lake there’s the crazy guy wearing an ipod, who always pushes his shopping cart into oncoming traffic, completely oblivious that there’s cars are coming. If you honk at him he’ll walk even slower across the street. Closer to mid-city there’s a homeless man that I see that sleeps under the awning of a children’s furniture store. Every morning around 8:00 A.M I see him methodically pack up his bedding, (which is mostly cardboard boxes,) rinse his mouth out with something in a water bottle and dump another water bottle full of liquid out. I’m sure we can all guess what’s in the 2nd bottle but I hope his system never fails him and he mixes up the bottles.

But, my all time favorite is someone I don’t see everyday. I’m not sure if he’s homeless because the sightings are sporadic but he definitely walks to the beat of a different drum...LITERALLY. The first few times I saw him, I was sure that I was missing something. He was dancing and singing to what sort of sounded like James Brown. His eyes were shut, his head thrown back and he was absolutely covered in sweat. I was sure that he must’ve had a walkman on or boombox nearby, BUT NO. Every time I’ve seen him since, he sings at the top of his lungs, dances like a Backstreet Boy on crystal meth and there’s not a musical device in sight. It’s all in his head. The best is when he makes eye contact with you in the car, points and gives you a knowing nod, as if to say, “I know you love this song too, let’s sing it together, come on!”

When I got into work and powered up the computer I was already wanting to go home. I'm tired from a long week, fighting a cold and have a ton of things outside of work on my mind. But at the very least, I remembered to put on clothes this morning, and that makes it a good day.

It's only rock n' roll but I like it

2006-06-13T04:26:00.000-07:00

There are a few bands that I always dreamed of seeing but knew I never would. Deaths, break-ups and the fact that I was barely in High School were some main obstacles. I used to slow dance with myself to Duran Duran, crying because I knew I’d never meet, let alone see Simon LeBon perform. Later I was too young to drive to concerts (and too broke,) to see bands like The Ramones, Echo & the Bunnymen and the Damned. I did however have cool folks who took me to the Rolling Stones, (Guns n’ Roses opened,) Billy Joel, Michael Jackson, (that was a friend’s parents- my folks thought there was something wrong with him… go figure,) and MC Hammer. Please- save the jokes-at the time he was the bomb. =)

Now that this 80s re-emergence is happening, I’ve actually had a chance to see some bands that I was sure I’d never see. Shows that I only dreamed of in my tiny room when I was 9 years old. I saw Duran Duran last year and cried when they played "The Chauffer." I saw the GoGo’s at the Greek a couple years ago, and actually hung out backstage watching Belinda playing with her baby. A far stretch from her punk days playing with The Germs. I saw the Pixies a few times on their reunion tour. (Although, I didn’t discover them when I was that young, as soon as I heard them I knew I had to see Frank Black screaming.) Tonight I saw Echo & The Bunnymen, which blew me away. They sounded better than the albums. This is such a big deal for me because these are childhood dreams come true.

However, the one band I missed and will never reunite is Nirvana. And I still get choked up hearing Kurt’s voice. I think a lot of people my age do. I guarantee that almost every gen-Xer will tell you where they were when they heard of his death.

Music is such a powerful part of our lives. Just the way a familiar smell can conjure memories, so can a song. I’m thrilled that music has veered away from that awful rap/rock back to real rock n’ roll. And I’m sure I’m going to end up like my mom, who was playing the Stones when I was 3 years old, saying “tempo Samantha, tempo” as I banged my spoon on my high chair to the music. I feel sorry for anyone who can listen to Elliott Smith and not cry- or at the very least reflect. I feel sorry for people who are so close-minded that they only listen to one type of music, (and please- for the love of GOD, don’t let that be jazz.) I just told a friend that I was sure I lost my membership card to the punk-rock club because I just bought Lionel Richie’s “Easy” on itunes. Yet, that falls right next to The Locust on my ipod. (Please check them out if you have no idea who I’m talking about.)

I suppose what I’m trying to say is never let that passion go because it keeps you young. My first entry into my very first diary, (when I was 8,) was that I saw my favorite video on MTV that day- “Safety Dance” if you can believe it. I went out and bought the record. I still get that same giddy feeling at 31, listening to The Dandy Warhols, as when I was 15 listening to Cinderella’s “Don’t Know What You Got Til It’s Gone.” (Which is still an awesome song!)

I think everyone should have an ipod, or hell, a walkman, and have some private rock out time at least once a week. It’ll change your life!

You Can Never Go Home Again

2006-06-06T14:38:00.000-07:00

From USA Today:
"President Bush will promote a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage on Monday, the eve of a scheduled Senate vote on the cause that is dear to his conservative backers."
"The president firmly believes that marriage is an enduring and sacred institution between men and women and has supported measures to protect the sanctity of marriage," White House spokesman Ken Lisaius said.

Nothing gets my blood boiling faster than Bush talking about the "sanctity of marriage". Marriage is as sacred as you choose it to be. If he is so concerned about the sanctity of marriage, why not ban divorce? Or any further Spears nuptials? I can't stand the logic of this monkey. Why is this even an issue? And if I hear one more person say something along the lines of, "if we allow gay marriage, what's next? Can I marry my cat?..." I'll throw myself in front of a bus. There are SO MANY MORE important issues today than AMENDING THE CONSTITUTION to define marriage.

I could go on and on and on but since I imagine most of my readers agree with me, (or else!!!,) I won't beat a dead horse.

In other news, Hubbie and I spent yet another Sunday house hunting last weekend. The longer we pound the pavement trolling open houses out of our price range, the more my mom tries to convince us to move back to the valley. I'm still unsure of her motives seeing as she keeps mentioning houses that are within 5 miles of hers. Yes, houses are a tad bit cheaper out there but it comes with a different price. No good restaurants, bars, shopping or music venues are the first things to come to mind. Of course with a house payment I don't imagine I'll be able to experience those with any regularity anyway.

I just don't know if I'm ready to go back there yet. Back to acrylic nails and permed hair. Bass thumping from lifted trucks and kids loitering at taco bell. (Yes, I know I was once one of those kids.) Having to go to a mall just to see a movie and never being able to find a parking spot. Is it worth it?

Ok, time for a coworker's birthday party in the kitchen. Cake and beer- is there a better combination?

Soundtrack of Our Lives?

2006-05-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

My ipod and I had an interesting evening at the Laundromat tonight. I decided to go to the one around the corner from my work instead of our local joint. And, being alone at a Laundromat with only my ipod to keep me company, truly makes it a whole different experience. Everything seems to go with whatever is playing at the time.

Such as; me throwing the heaviest load into the bottom dryer, (sweating profusely,) with my nose right in line with a toddler who had THE SMELLIEST DIAPER IN THE WORLD while listening to "Holiday in Cambodia" by the Dead Kennedys. I kept looking up to his father (gagging,) hoping he would read my mind but all I could do was deal with the rancid stench while hearing "Pol, Pot, Pol, Pot..."

Next observation- Tears for Fears, "Mad World" playing while I sat on the folding table looking around the room.

"All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places
Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where Going no where..."

I looked over at the single mom folding a zillion onesies and bibs with her own ipod around her neck. I wonder what she was listening to?

I looked over at the rocker with long hair, filling the washing machine with nothing but faded black t-shirts, rocking out to his ipod. Probably Black Sabbath.

I looked over at the awkward 40-something computer geek fiddling with the broken dryer, trying to get the coin-op employee's attention to no avail- still with his ipod earphones in. Now, to his defense, he probably turned his music down. My guess it was Radiohead.

I couldn't have picked a more perfect soundtrack if I tried.

We've become so detached as a society. Everyone is either on the phone or has the ipod ear buds tightly tucked in. I wonder if in a different time, a different place, maybe those of us together at the Laundromat would find something to talk about to pass the time?

Let's Get Ready To RUUMMMBBLE!!!

2006-05-25T16:23:00.000-07:00

Last night I made dinner for Hubbie so he could have a nice hot meal after a hideously long day. All the oven and stove top cooking made our tiny apartment pretty warm, so when bedtime came Hubbie turned on the AC. We have a little, (but nonetheless very powerful,) window unit in the bedroom that we bought one scorching summer. The retailer, (which shall remain nameless,) had sold out of all their units and so began a bidding war for the remaining displays. After an hour or so of begging and haggling we outbid a family with two young children. Two young, sweet, sweat- soaked children.

When we got outside to load our booty into the trunk I started to feel bad. That lasted right up until Hubbie got it installed in the bedroom window, and our apartment went from a sweltering 90 degrees, to a crisp 68. The only catch about this unit is that it doesn’t maintain the room temperature, it just blows cold air until you turn it off. Which, in a nutshell means you can turn it on and be comfortable for a couple hours, and before you know it the tips of your fingers are black with frostbite.

Last night I’m pretty sure Hubbie set the unit to 50 degrees while I wasn’t looking. I woke up, teeth chattering, tongue numb and pulled the covers up and over my head. As soon as I fell back asleep I was jolted awake by a swift jerk of the comforter to the other side of the bed, thereby leaving my body vulnerable to the elements. So I tugged back, which elicited a nasty reaction from Hubbie trying to claim I had all the covers and why was I being so selfish!?!?

This tug of war lasted ALL NIGHT, and when I got up in the morning, (with bags under my eyes and an icicle hanging off my runny nose,) I couldn’t help but begin to plot his demise. As I got up to make the coffee, I noticed his feet hanging out from the bottom of the blanket and I just snickered and didn’t stop to cover them up, even though they were starting to turn that pale shade of blue.

And then I remembered my grandparents, who as long as I remembered slept in side by side twin beds, and how lonely that seemed. Is this how it started for them? So, I went back into the room, covered up his feet and gave him a kiss good morning.

DMV Rant- Yield For Whiners

2006-05-24T13:08:00.000-07:00

Last night Hubbie got pulled over by two bicycle cops. As if that isn't emasculating enough, it happened right in front of me since we were following each other after work. Right now we're in the middle of a grizzly DMV mix up of Three's Company proportions. Here’s the deal. The car, (that Hubbie was driving which is technically my car,) is a Ford Explorer. Both my parents also drive Explorers. Our car was registered at their address. The new tags were mailed to their house. My mom, in one of her manic states tore open the tags, read FORD across the top of the page, and immediately slapped those puppies on her car. Her brand new Ford that already had brand new registration stickers on it. But I digress.

Months later I wondered to myself, “hmm, what ever happened to my registration tags?” That very weekend we got two parking tickets in a row for lack of tags. Hubbie nearly blew a gasket. (Pun intended.) With a few phone calls and raised voices we figured out what had happened and we all took a vote and decided that Hubbie should be the one to go to the DMV to sort it out.

Because he’s the most patient, that’s why!

Easier said than done. I consider Hubbie to be quite smart. He’s private school and college educated, well read, cultured, AND YET, he couldn’t understand at all what the woman at the DMV was asking him to do. He took the paperwork he thought he needed and left. Now I could easily go on yet another rant about DMV employees, but, well, it’s too easy a target. He filled out the paperwork as best he could but in the interim became so busy at work he never got back to the DMV.

Then we got another parking ticket for lack of registration tags.

My question is this. Our car IS indeed registered. Paid for through 2006. When the cops on training wheels pulled him over last night and started writing the ticket, why couldn’t they run the car and see on the computer that it IS registered, just missing the little dumb stickers??? Why do I keep writing run-on sentences!?!?

I know what it is. This is karma. Karma for driving an SUV. Well, I’ll have you know Karmic gods that we are SERIOUSLY considering buying a hybrid car. Now will you leave us be??