This might make me unpopular

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'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Arrange pita halves, cut side up, on two baking sheets; brush with oil.
2. Spread pitas with hummus; top with peppers, artichoke hearts, and lamb. Season with salt and pepper.
3. 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

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

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

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

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

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!!

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

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

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

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

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.