7 more hours to go

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...

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:

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?

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

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

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...

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...

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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!