own2hands

"Do You Blog?"

2011-12-28T22:09:00.000-08:00

Today I was asked the question, "Do You Blog?"

With the advent of current social media, I suppose that we *all* blog in some way, shape or form. Maybe it's limited to 140 characters in a twitter feed, or a couple of lines in a Facebook update, or, if you're feeling particularly verbose, an actual honest-to-God blog update.

So...the answer was, "Not recently." And tomorrow? The answer would be "Sort of." I suppose it's a step in the right direction.

What Color Do I Feel?

2009-10-13T15:56:00.000-07:00

While desperately attempting to avoid doing any real work, I caught up on my pal Emily's blog, I stumbled upon her entry that had a personality profile quiz. I love quizzes because I want life to be as easy as "Do you like me? Check a box, yes or no."

This had a simple quiz - although "game" is probably a better word, but then that would imply some sort of skill. I digress. You're supposed to simply click the box of the color that you feel most "in harmony" with. You continue to click them until there are no more left. Then seconds later, you get a personality profile. Here's mine, I think it's actually kind of accurate.

Name: Leah
Date: 10/13/2009
Colorgenics Number: 15207634

You have always longed for tenderness, love and a sensitivity of feeling into which you would like to blend. You are a very gentle warm person and responsive to 'All things bright and beautiful'. This personifies a caring person, a person who 'needs' and indeed 'needs to be needed'.

You are a fighter and always on the defensive. You always need to be sure that your position is safe and established. When you finally make a decision you will pursue it to the bitter end in spite of all opposition.

There are times of everyone's life when 'compromise' is the name of the game and this is the time, so you have no alternative but to forgo some pleasures for the time being. You are capable of achieving satisfaction through physical activity.

All of the stress and strains resulting from disappointment have led to agitation and anxiety. You have been going out of your way to make a good impression, but you have reservations as to the likelihood of succeeding. You feel that you have a right to accomplish all that you set your mind on but you have become helpless and distressed when circumstances have gone against you. The idea of failure is most upsetting and this can even mean utter dejection. You see yourself as a scapegoat and you feel everyone in your sphere of influence has tried to take undue advantage of you. You are trying to convince yourself that your failure to achieve standing and recognition is not of your making but indeed of those around you.

Since in the recent past all of your hopes and aspirations have been denied you, you are now convinced that the future will hold nothing but anxiety so therefore 'why bother?' You would love to get away from it all, to escape from the trials and tribulations of this mundane existence and fall into a peaceful and harmonious relationship, which will protect you from the lack of appreciation and give you the chance to start afresh.

Want to see your own personality? Take the quiz/game/exercise in hand-eye coordination here.

To Blog, Perchance to Dream

2009-10-12T22:41:00.000-07:00

I fully admit that I have been neglecting my Blog. I apologize. It's just that writing and me have kind of an abusive relationship. He wants to, and I don't. It's as simple as that.

But today, I discovered that my friend Jen had a blog called "Live Yer Damn Life Already". From the title, you can tell that it's not your regular blog, but a blog encouraging people to write. Ultimately, it's to write a book, which I don't want to do, but it made me realize that there's a little tiny leprechaun in me that wants to write. Damn him/her.

I've been bogged down by thinking about content, length, contribution...but in this day and age, I have to realize that my blogs can be anything that's too long to fit on Twitter and Facebook, but as "important."

Please stay tuned.

I'm in a New York State of Mind

2009-09-19T00:17:00.000-07:00

New York City is a dream. And a bit of a nightmare. It taught me the reality of the phrase “It’s a great place to visit, I wouldn’t want to live there.*” The asterisk is because everyone SHOULD live there at least once in their life...while they can.

Let me qualify that last statement. There are two kinds of people who can live in New York. One is the young, freewheeling type – who are game for anything and think that NYC is an amazing experience. I don’t blame them; I was there once myself. The other is the rich people – who don’t have to think about how much it costs to actually live there!

I started out my life in New York City as the first type of person that I mentioned. I was about a year out of college and had been to NYC a few times on business. The city was...intoxicating...intense...inviting...and all sorts of adjectives that start with a vowel. I was offered a job in NYC, asked a friend to help me find an apartment in NY, and took the first apartment that I saw (I saw two that day). The night I left Maryland to move to New York, my brother offered to buy me a gun. “Just in case.” I declined to take him up on his offer.

I loved New York. The city is everything that you ever hoped it would be. And more. Everything is accessible by public transportation. You can find anything within a three-block walk. There is SO MUCH to do. The city has a “jazz” or a “vibe” that is palpable. I have yet to have met someone who has been to NYC and hasn’t been caught up in that vibe. There’s something about New York that makes you want to stay up and out all night (although in the interest of full disclosure, I have only done that ONCE) and overindulge (“I can just take a cab home”). It’s almost like the city is challenging you. “How little sleep can you go without?”

After a couple of weeks of living in the City that Never Sleeps, you start to learn about the reality of the situation. My typical phrase is “It’s a really tough city to live in.” Unfortunately, the only people who understand that are people who have LIVED there, and learned how tough it is. It’s like a drug. Or an intense-but-bound-to-flame-out relationship. Because technically, it’s both.

You get sucked in by the power of the city. You let it take you over. Before you even know it, you’re hooked. You’re living life minute-to-minute – a “New York Minute,” if you will. It’s addictive for awhile. Makes you feel good. Strong. Powerful. Unstoppable. You need more. Then eventually, you realize, New York is not there for you. You need IT more than it needs you. You chase the dragon. How can you get that same buzz of the city that you got when you first went there? The answer is, you can’t. You can’t recapture it, and honestly...you can’t afford it. Face it, the honeymoon is over. You’re stuck. So, you have two choices. Become a “Slave of New York” (thank you, Tama Janowitz) or formulate an exit plan.

For me, the city got to be too much. People can be intense. The living conditions can be a bit intolerable on a long-term basis. I lived by myself, but my walls and carpet were brown, I had one window (with an air conditioner in it) and I lived next to a parking garage where I could hear the door open and close 24 hours a day. I eventually found comfort in the metallic whir at 3:15am. Others I know had to live with roommate(s). Not advised for the over-23 crowd, especially with the cramped living conditions. I have a suitcase at home that could be rented for $1500/month in New York. Trust me on this one.

Eventually you turn on the locals. The local Chinese place doesn’t deliver fast enough. The local bodega doesn’t get the New York Times early enough. The subway by your apartment is unreliable. The grocery store doesn’t carry the brand of coffee that you like. It’s like realizing that the little quirk that your significant other had at the beginning of your relationship that was so adorable, is now just plain obnoxious. It’s time to bail.

I lucked out. The company I was working for had a position open in the LA office and I went for it. And haven’t looked back. Well, not really.

I miss my friends in New York. The people there are spectacular, amazing and passionate. And the last time I was back in NYC, I had that same thought cross my mind...the same one that I had cross my mind years ago. “I could live here.” The older and wiser person in me laughs and shrugs it off. But that eternal optimist says “But what if....”

What if, indeed.

Right to a Slice

2009-06-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

Ah...the mix tape. Such a sentimental old-school practice. A mix tape could symbolize the beginning of a relationship, the end of one, to mark a vacation, to celebrate a word, or for no reason at all. This particular mix tape has a more interesting story behind it.

Many years ago – I would have to say almost twenty five or twenty six at this point – I used to work at a record store in the Georgetown section of Washington, DC. The store closed at midnight every night, so after work, we would head a few blocks away to the best place to be – a club called Poseur’s. We’d dance the night away until closing time.

One particular Friday or Saturday night, Lisa and Tony met me after work and we had one of our typical nights...until we left. We were driving up Canal Road to get to the Beltway so I could drop them off in Rockville on the way back to my home in Bowie. Right out of Georgetown, we came across an accident. A car had careened off the road and into a tree. The driver was alive, but definitely hurt. His friends had been following behind him and had also pulled over to the side of the road, as did we. We recognized them – they had also been at Poseur’s that night. The driver was freaked out and all he could think about was the fact that he had a “piece” in his car (a handgun) and asked for it to be removed from the car and hidden somewhere in the forest so that he could come and retrieve it at a later point. We all waited for the ambulance to arrive and kept talking to the driver and his friends, to make sure they all stayed calm and conscious. The ambulance took him away – several broken bones, if I remember correctly. Somehow, we ended up either driving one of the passengers home, or following their car home – I’m a little sketchy on those details. When we got to their house, the friend pulled a mix tape out of his car and handed it to me, to thank us for being “so cool.” Printed on the Maxell label were the words “RIGHT TO A SLICE”. We listened to the tape that night and thought it was the coolest tape ever.

The tape ended up in my possession and I found it yesterday. I immediately popped it into the cassette player (yes, I still have one) to see what was on it.

And here is the tracklisting. Remember, it was the 80s!!

SIDE A:
1. Some instrumental song with a man with a cockney accent giving directions...”Take Bay Walker Road to Notting Hill Gate...third left around Marble Arch...left again at the bottom of Park Lane...”
2. Some other weird bizarre instrumental.
3. Another instrumental. I write the word “Sorta” next to the tracklisting. (By now I am wondering why this tape has held such a spell over me for all of these years.)
4. Kim Wilde “Can You Hear It”
5. The Smiths “What Difference Does it Make”
6. The Specials “Ghost Town”
7. Lene Lovich “Bird Song”
8. Psychedelic Furs “Heaven”
9. Expression “With Closed Eyes”
10. Talk Talk “Such a Shame”
11. Simple Minds “I Couldn’t Sleep a Wink Last Night”
12. Ministry “The Light Pours Out of me”

SIDE B:
1. Bram Tchaikovsky “Girl of My Dreams”
2. Lyrics are: “I’ve got a secret, I wish I could tell you, I’ve got a secret, you.” I have googled the hell out of this and cannot come up with the artist/title!
3. The Jam “That’s Entertainment”
4. Another song that google is failing me on...lyrics contain “color shades...beating hearts...cheating hearts...”
5. Thompson Twins “No Peace for the Wicked”
6. Language “Touch the Radio Dance”
7. X “We’re Having Much More Fun”
8. Oingo Boingo “Grey Matter”
9. The Surburbs “Love is the Law”
10. Blancmange “That’s Love That it is”
11. The Cure “The Walk”
12. And of course the tape ends with another song that I can’t figure out the title/artist of...and the quality of the tape is so crappy that I can’t barely make out the words...all I have is “flowers they hope they grow...”

Any help that anyone has to help with filling in the holes, especially on Side B, is appreciated.

Ultimately, I think the tape is better in memory than reality. But then again, sometimes isn't life?

Welcome to the Doll House

2009-03-31T16:15:00.000-07:00

The LA Derby Doll House, that is. Yup, I’m talkin’ Roller Derby! All-Female Roller Derby!

I was introduced to this culture by my friend Phil, who became a little obsessed with Roller Derby some time in the last year. He’s made it his one-man mission to recruit as many of his friends as possible. Last month, I grumpily accepted his invitation to attend the bout. I had no idea what to expect.

The LA Derby Dolls have their very own roller rink, located downtown, right near Temple and Alvarado. The event was sold out, so we arrived about an hour early to secure our space in the grandstand. I took a wander through the midway – the place where the vendors set up their wares (anything from cookies and pizza to t-shirts, jewelry and crafts) and the band (!) plays during intermission and after the bout. I felt like an alien that had just be dropped into Lollapalooza years ago and wandered around like a little lost deer in the headlights of life. I had no idea that this scene existed...and being attended by a thousand people every month!

I watched the girls warm up on the rink while clutching my program, desperately trying to understand the rules of the game. Joy had tried to explain it to me earlier, utilizing straws to represent skaters. Between the straws and reading the program, I still had no idea how it worked. However, there’s nothing like the actual game to learn pretty quickly! I went from not knowing a thing about Roller Derby to two hours later being able to make comments such as, “No wonder we couldn’t score any points, our jammer couldn’t get past their defenders” and “Good move! She called the jam off!”

Last month, I saw the San Diego Swarm take on the LA Varsity Brawlers. It was a brutal game...and I’m not just talking about the action on the track! The Swarm swarmed all over the Brawlers. Not pretty. But alas, I think I was hooked.

So when the call went out for recruits to the March 28 battle, I was in. The Swarm would be playing again, this time up against LA’s Fight Crew. Phil got a new recruit for the event, Shannon, who joined Joy, Vanessa and me for the big night. She showed up at our meeting place and the first thing I noticed was her choice of footwear - heels. Before my first bout, a few important details were left out by my Derby Dealer. I accosted Shannon, “Did anyone tell you that you’re going to be STANDING all night, right?” While I was leading with the news, I threw in “And you have to pee in a porta-potty.” Two things I wish I had been told...not unmanageable obstacles if adequately prepared.

I had definitely been in Shannon’s shoes before. Well, not her high heels, but not knowing what to expect. Not knowing the rules of the game. And clearly not knowing what was in store. By now, I was a professional. I knew which line to get in. I knew to put a finger on my wrist when they went to “band” me, so that it wouldn’t get too tight. I knew to try and get a spot pretty high up so that we could get a good view of the track. After we found our space, I took Shannon down to the midway. It wasn’t as big as it was last time, so she missed out on some of the cool merch opportunities. But that didn’t lessen her enjoyment at all. All of us soaked it all in. The warm up. The dueling mascots (Giant Bee in a Mexican wrestling mask for the Swarm, and a Lobster for the Fight Crew). The selling of raffle tickets. The great music playing from the DJ. The people watching. The debate about pizza vs. hot dog on a stick. Cookies vs. a banana. These are not easy decisions, people!

Another great part of Roller Derby are the names of the players... Broadzilla, Judy Gloom, Janis Choplin, Tae Kwon Ho, and Mickispeedia play for two of the LA teams...the San Diego team does just as well...with PT Bruiser, Sarkastika and Slamurai. Even the referees and officials are in on it. My favorite was: Thomas Refferson, who wore a tri-cornered hat. A fun game to play during the downtime of the games is to come up with fun Roller Derby names. I decided on “Skatie Holmes” and Joy is trying to decide between “Sioux Sidal” and “Fell-Ani Assault”. Also during the downtime of games, the mascots run around the outside of the track, whipping the crowd into a frenzy, throwing out trinkets. Joy got a flyswatter and a man in a giant lobster suit threw me a beer koozie. Where else but in LA? Of course Phil was there to make jokes about the mascot, “If I was butter, I’d be all over that guy!”

And oh yes...the bout itself. Well, the Fight Crew turned out to be much more formidable opponents for the Swarm than the Varsity Brawlers and the game was at least a game! Unfortunately, in the end, the Swarm left the Fight Crew with a nasty sting. But for two hours, we cheered, hooted, hollered, yelled, stamped our feet, and just really enjoyed ourselves.

So...next bout...April 18th...the Varsity Brawlers vs. the Sirens. Who’s with us??

Jam on!

p.s. As they don't allow cameras into the rink (wahhh!), you'll have to visit the Derby Dolls website to see photos of the girls, the rink and more....all I have is this photo of my koozie.

TSA, Tsk, Tsk

2009-03-10T08:25:00.001-07:00

Dear Transportation Security Administration of Sea-Tac Airport:

Thanks so much for your lovely note. I also wanted to thank you for your failure to re-zip up my suitcase after you so lovingly opened it and fished around for whatever items you felt were clearly in violation of the TSA laws...was it a book? Some CDs? A pair of socks covered in dog fur? Hot rollers?

Lastly, I would like to thank you for not returning my TSA lock. Obviously, it was just standing in the way between you and my tiny bottle of shampoo.

Best regards,

Another TSAtisfied Customer

Is This Thing On?

2009-01-11T16:55:00.001-08:00

Check? Check One. Check Two.
Just checking...

Boo Has Returned!!!

2008-03-25T23:54:00.000-07:00

After nearly four days in the great outdoors, I am THRILLED to tell you that Boo has returned home. I went outside to do one last check for the night, and to bring along some wet cat food and yucky icky sardines that someone gave to me tonight.

I called her name. Boo-oooooo.
"Mew?"

Holy shit. Boo?
"Mew?"

This call-and-response went on for a few minutes until I figured out where she was. Ahem, exactly where I said she would be - hiding under the next door neighbor's house. I crawled through the bushes and sat on the ground, calmly singing the Boo song. Boo-oooo. She added her own vocals to the song: Mew?

Eventually I saw her. I gasped. And when I had the hands of a surgeon, I grabbed her. I held her and rocked her back and forth. I have never wanted to cry and puke at the same time before. I brought her to the step and she immediately went for the sardines. I put my hand on her, not letting her out of my sight. I called my friend - the one who fucking LEFT THE FUCKING DOOR OPEN - and relayed the good news.

Boo has returned.

Halla-fucking-lujah.

:)

So that happened.

2008-03-22T18:51:00.000-07:00

Big Winner!

2008-03-03T23:38:00.000-08:00

OK, so you haven't heard from me in awhile...as my friend Bean so *lovingly* pointed out. My commitment to daily blogging hasn't seemed to take hold...although I did try and chalk it up to the fact that time is different on *my* island than HIS...

I just haven't had anything much to say. At least nothing worth forming complete sentences for...damn, don't want to end in a preposition. That is, until today. Today, I won the lottery. (Technically, Saturday I won the lottery, I just didn't claim until today.)

I've been playing the lottery off and on for the last year. Mostly off, to be honest. Today, I finally scanned my lottery ticket at the 7-11 by the office. Instead of the digital readout confirming my fate of "Big Loser!", it actually told me that I won! And to see the cashier for my payout. WINNER! Big Winner! I asked her "Do I have to wait for some governmental check...or...do you pay me?"

She said "Do you just want lottery tickets?"

I said, "Um, I'll take one lottery ticket and one dollar in cash."

OK, I didn't say that I was a HUGE winner...just a big one. Two big ones. And as the cashier told me..."Next time, it will be more."

It better be. Baby needs to buy some Super Big Gulps.

Organization by Osmosis

2008-02-18T11:39:00.001-08:00

I've been watching a lot of TV shows about how to get organized. There's Mission Organization on HGTV, neat on FitTV and there was even a whole show on Oprah with my hero Peter Walsh. I've been reading articles and books on the topic. Yup, I'm definitely going to get organized.

Oh wait. I don't have a "team of experts," a "professional organizer" or the available funds to hire any of those OR pay for the "storage solutions" that seem so ideal on these shows. What's a poor clutterbug to do?

In the meantime, I'll keep watching and reading....hoping that somehow, these ideas will somehow transfer into my psyche. Good plan, yes?

I Should Be Able to do This

2008-02-17T00:56:00.000-08:00

OK. Pretty much every day I have a thought that I should blog about, but think that I don't have the time to do it...But, technically, if I'm just doing a thought or so a day, I should be able to do it right? Not have to worry about the quantity of word-count within the blog, right? Just the fact that I'm doing it?

This thought came to me last night as my friend Bean was commenting that he was super tired but needed to get home so he could blog. I wanted to tell him that people don't care how MUCH is in his blog, but only that he blogs in general. And then I realized that the mirror had just been thrown up in front of my face. Hello. I should get back into it.

So...let's see how I do...starting tomorrow. ;)

Holiday Spirit, Wherefore Art Thou?

2007-12-17T08:29:00.000-08:00

I am having a really tough time getting in the holiday spirit this year. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because it's been a really strange year. Maybe I'm experiencing a bit of life-lag (the equivalent of jet-lag, but caused by all of my recent travels and tourism). Maybe it's because I've heard almost ZERO Christmas music this year.

There are several songs that help get me in the Christmas mindset.

First one is by my hero, Bruce Springsteen. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" puts a giant huge smile on my face every time. Not just because it's Bruce, but it's the part when Clarence starts "ho ho ho"-ing and Bruce busts out laughing and can barely go on.

Second one is a strange one. "Please Come Home for Christmas" by the Eagles. I'm not a big Eagles fan. I've also never actually wanted anyone to come home for Christmas. There's just something about the song. I don't understand, I just wait and listen.

The third one is the absolute classic "Christmas Wrapping" by the Waitresses. I can't believe that song came out in 1981...twenty six years ago. Gulp. And ironically (or not), the lyrics have the same sentiment that I'm feeling this year:
"But all this year's been a busy blur
Don't think I have the energy"

The last song is not quite a Christmas song as it is a New Year's Eve song. My year is never complete until I hear "Another Auld Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg. I usually don't hear this song until after Christmas. However, I heard it today. Why? Because the writer and singer of that song, Dan Fogelberg, died yesterday at the age of 56. Fucking cancer fucking sucks. You can visit my friend Bean's blog to read his own tribute to Dan Fogelberg, and hear the song.

Tonight, let's all drink a toast to innocence.

And may that drink put someone in the holiday spirit.

Busy, busy, busy

2007-10-16T23:57:00.000-07:00

So...it all started out as a harmless little post half a year back...(actually, the real post isn't currently available due to governmental restrictions)...but one of the reasons why the words have not been flowing from my fingertips...is because of this guy right here:

Funny story!

2007-09-02T23:30:00.000-07:00

So...this morning I was going out to North Hollywood to spend time with some friends that I haven't seen in a million years.

I stopped at the grocery store to pick up some necessities: Diet Coke, grapes and some flowers.

I chose a line with an incredibly non-enthusiastic mumbling clerk. I immediately become obssessed with her level of disinterest and complete non-enunciation and she makes her way through the customers in front of me.

It's finally my turn. She mumbles. And mumbles some more. I work within the mumbles and slide my Vons/Pavilions card to get my whopping discount. As she is ready to mumble the total, she mumbles something else under her breath.

(what i hear:) "Do you wanna donate a dollar today to the NBA?"

(time for me to process) "No thanks." I proceed to slide my debit card through the machine as I think about what she has asked me. I snipe back "I think the NBA is doing just fine without my dollar."

The cashier stops and stares at me. "Muscular Dystrophy???" she says, much clearer this time.

I laugh and laugh and laugh. I say "I thought you were asking for a donation for the NBA!!! Basketball!!"

This even gets her to laugh.

I am an idiot.

And Jerry still didn't get my dollar.

Time Flies...This Acid World

2007-08-27T00:08:00.000-07:00

So, Tuesday night I got together with my friend Joy at our favorite Irish pub (25 cent wing night!). She had a show to go to that night - and I tagged along with her. Why? Because it's an artist that I really like...

It seems like a million years ago I discovered a musician named Peter Himmelman. I was still living in the DC area when I first heard his music. I went and saw him for the first time in New York, opening for the Innocence Mission.

Time passes. I moved to New York and the label/distribution company that I was working for ended up signing Peter to the label. I was fortunate to be part of the extended/inner circle and got to see, do and learn some really cool things.

So...what is the point of all of this walk down memory lane? Let's just fast-forward to this week.

Joy and I walk into the venue (The Mint) and there's one guy on stage. She says as a throw-off, "Oh, that's his son." His son sounds a lot like him and is playing a piano, solo, on stage. I start to do math in my head. It only takes a few seconds for me to figure out what's going on. I realize that this ADULT on stage is the very same person who was gurgling and being a baby on "From Strength to Strenth," Peter's Epic debut. (Click on the link and listen to "Walk On, Pt. 1" to hear who/what I'm talking about.) I felt REALLY old.

Check out Peter Himmelman at: www.myspace.com/peterhimmelman
Check out his son, Isaac Himmelman at: www.myspace.com/gravityslove

The Reason Why Resolutions Should Not Be Kept

2007-08-20T08:17:00.000-07:00

So much for Resolutions. As you may (or may not) remember, I made a New Years Resolution that I actually managed to keep.

Fast Forward to my dentist's office on Friday afternoon....he's looking at this incredibly sensitive tooth. Turns out that it's because I've been overbrushing the tooth/gum area with the Sonicare! I was actually told to only use the Sonicare once a day now and go back to the regular toothbrush for the other brush(es) during the day.

And the moral of this story clearly is: do not keep resolutions.

Whatever, dude.

2007-08-07T21:47:00.000-07:00

I hated you in May of 2006.

I still hate you today.

Thank god this nightmare is over.

An actual letter from my actual mom

2007-07-03T18:24:00.000-07:00

I don't tend to talk about my family that much, for a multitude of reasons that I could get into, but would then feel like I need to pay you per hour to explain.

Today I received an honest-to-goodness letter from my mother in the mail. This is exactly what it said:

Dear Leah:

We're having a cookout here on the 4th of July. Wish you could be with us.
My favorite grilled meat is BRATWURST. How about you?
Thinking of you.
With love,

Mom

Don't believe me? Sneak a peek:

This should help explain just about everything.

Happy and safe 4th everyone.

"We have so much time and so little to do"

2007-07-01T22:10:00.000-07:00

Strike that, reverse it. (And I mean that in a Gene-Wilder-as-Willy-Wonka way, not Johnny-Depp-as-some-strange-Michael-Jackson-impersonator-Willy-Wonka way.)

I have been swamped. Slammed. Busy. Insane. Kooky. And a million other things...which helps explain the feast-or-famine nature of my blog. I'm ebbing, baby. Not a lot of flow right now.

I haven't had time to tell you about the annual Bergin's Blue Crew night to Dodger Stadium, which Shannon captured so beautifully with her super cool camera in her blog. My pictures from the same night can be found here.

I haven't had time to tell you about The Police/Foo Fighters concert at Dodger Stadium. Stewart Copeland and Dave Grohl in the same night...I couldn't have planned a better night.

I haven't had time to talk about the new Ryan Adams album, which I can't figure out whether I love or not. Although I feel spurned, and that can't be good.

I haven't had time to tell you about what's going on with my moonlighting job...or that I've been obviously thrown into a new tax bracket by the $30+ dollars that I earned in June...the sweetest and most rewarding $30+ I have ever made...

I haven't had time to talk about how genius "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip" is/was. Or how much I'm enjoying the new episodes of The 4400 or Top Chef. Or how enthralled/disappointed I am in "On the Lot." Or to ramble about how much I lloooooovee "Rescue Me" and it's not just because of Denis Leary (but he helps!!).

And why? Because I'm miserable. And happy. And jaded. And inspired. And defeated. And winning. If you can figure any of this out...let me know...I'll be under my desk...crying and laughing. :)

"He was drunk and exhausted but he was critically acclaimed and respected."

2007-06-10T13:51:00.000-07:00

I overheard some guys talking about a show that they were going to at the El Rey Theater. I fancy myself as someone who knows music, so I asked, "Who are you going to see?"

"The Hold Steady," one of them answered.

"Who are they opening for?" I asked.

"They're headlining. It's sold out."

"What's the name of the band?" I asked again. I must not have heard them right. I would know the name of a band that sold out the El Rey.

"The Hold Steady," he answered again.

"Why have I never heard of them?" I asked. Again, I must not have heard them right.

They proceeded to tell me about the band. They said magical words to pique my interest like: "really early Bruce Springsteen." That was all I needed to hear. I scrawled the band's name on a napkin, went home and checked out their MySpace page. I wasn't halfway through the first song, "Stuck Between Stations" when I was on my iTunes, downloading the entire album.

If you've listened to (and love) Bruce's first album, "Greetings from Asbury Park," then The Hold Steady is for you. The lead singer doesn't as much sing as he recites poetry quickly. And the words...oh, the words...great lyrics such as:

“She was a damned good dancer, but she wasn’t all that great of a girlfriend.”
“He was drunk and exhausted but he was critically acclaimed and respected.”
“We drink. We dry up. We crumble into dust.”

Think about Bruce Springsteen, Randy Newman and Matthew Meltzer being put into a room and told to come out with a band. And viola, you have The Hold Steady.

Of course, you probably already know this. I seem to be the Boy OR Girl in America to have heard of them.

Check out their video. Stick around 'til the end.

I Am Old Woman, Hear Me Roar

2007-06-05T22:35:00.000-07:00

It's been threatening to happen for years. In fact, when I last visited my eye doctor two years ago, I hinted that it was on the verge of happening.

Yes, I have the "over 40" eye thing. And yes, that is the technical term, thank you very much for asking.

My eye doctor gave me some exercises two years ago to help me with the problem, but to be quite honest, they made me nauseous. Plus, anyone that knows me knows that I just don't exercise any part of my body.

Fast forward to May (or so), 2007. My eyes hurt. My eyeballs want to fall out of their sockets. There is nothing that I can do that involves my eyes that doesn't make me want to stab myself in the ear with a very large knife. Finally I broke down and made an appointment with my eye doctor for last weekend. She gleefully told me that she can help me with my problem and sent me off to the eyeglass fitting/ass reaming part of the office. Between the visit, reading glasses, and one year's worth of contacts that I bought...well, I could live there for a few weeks with the rent-comparable-fee that I paid. Christ on a bike.

But I still don't get my glasses for a few days. Which means...the work that I did at home this weekend...eyeballs hurt. The work that I did at, er, um, WORK this week means...eyeballs hurt.

Until today/tomorrow (hopefully). I picked up the glasses, which basically consisted of a very light-on-his-feet eyeglass technician saying "Here they are!"

And...in fact, here they are...

Dead Skunk (In the Middle of Fairfax)

2007-06-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

One of the things that I love about living in LA is the opportunity to see celebrities out and about in their natural habitat. I've seen my share of biggies (Tom Cruise, The Governator) and a ton of random ones. It comes with the turf.

Yesterday I was at my favorite Irish establishment, trying to get through the Sunday crossword puzzle, when the heavy door swung open. I looked up and saw an older gentleman wearing glasses and a hat. He walked the length of the bar, wanting to sit in the back room. He looked immediately familiar. The rolodex of names, faces and places spun through my head, and the answer popped into my head. "Nah, no way," I thought. I looked across the bar at my friend Matt, whose eyes were as big as saucers. He mouthed to me, "Is that Loudon Wainwright?" He saw him, too. I said soundlessly, "YES!" I jumped off the bar bench and ran over and hugged Matt. It was just incredibly culty and random, we loved the moment. We tried to explain to people around us how oddly cool this was, and it really didn't translate.

Matt ended up buying him and his friend each a Guinness. As they got up to leave, me, Matt and Phil (who had arrived by this point) yelled "Bye Loudon!!" He and his friend came over to thank Matt for the beers. Matt led with "I've been listening to your new album for the last few weeks." I added, "I used to work with your son." "Oh, Rufus?" Loudon commented. "Yes, I used to work at DreamWorks." Phil yelled "John Wooler says hi!"

Dorky. Cool. Random. That's us.

Edited to add: His "friend" turned out to be musician and producer extraordinaire Joe Henry. I knew I recognized him, just couldn't place him. I had the feeling it was someone music related, someone production related...I kept wanting to say "Jon Brien," but knew it wasn't him. And Matt? Stop kicking yourself.

Ten Years After

2007-06-04T08:18:00.000-07:00

The phone rang first thing in the morning on May 30th. My phone never rings – let alone before 7:30 AM.

“Hello?” I answered, quizzically and quietly.

“Hi Leah, it’s Jxx Lxxxxx.” Someone I used to work with – but never really got along with, for many reasons.

“Oh, hi, Jxx, er, um, uh, what’s up?” I couldn’t imagine why he would be calling me. Especially at this hour of the morning.

He had a serious tone in his voice. “Well, Leah, I know that we’ve never really gotten along or seen eye to eye on things, for whatever reason, but I wanted to let you know...Jeff Buckley is dead.”

I sat up immediately and tried to blink away the morning. “What?” I asked, in disbelief.

He proceeded to unfurl the events from the night before. Band arriving. Jeff swimming. Missing.

I ask, to clarify, “So he’s actually just missing, right?”

Jxx answers, “Well, yeah.”

I let out a sigh of relief. OK. Jeff has gone missing before. This is nothing new. It’s what he does. I am now no longer concerned, and, in fact, a little pissed off that Jxx has chosen to ruin my morning. In retrospect, I get even more mad when I find out later that Jxx bragged to everyone that he got to be the one to tell me the news.

Call it denial. Call it knowing Jeff for years. This is not a big deal. He’ll turn up. He always has, he always does.

I go about my morning in the regular fashion. I shower, get ready and head off to work.

The phone calls come in: Jules. Greg. Nick. Charlie. Troy. Lisa. Michelle. Barbara. Lydia. Marilyn. Sean. Laura. My friends and ex-co-workers. Calls marked “Urgent,” “Please call,” or even just “Thinking of You.”

People come to my office. “Why are you HERE?” I pooh-pooh them. They don’t know what I know. “He’s just missing.” Am I trying to convince myself, or convince them?

The next few days are a blur. Calls come in, the rivers of denial ebb and flow.

Something compels me to take a trip. I say to my boss, “I think I have to go to New York.” I nearly break down in her office. She’s been waiting for this. “Go. Do what you have to do.”

I'm in New York. It’s the place where I know him; the place that I feel him. The place that I last saw him. Luckily, two of my artists are playing at the Tibetan Freedom Festival, which is happening over the weekend. It justifies the trip.

I can’t possibly be in New York without thinking about Jeff. Everywhere I go, everyone I see – it is completely consuming.

I’m at the office on Wednesday, June 4 when I get the message from a co-worker, via MTV news (of all places). His body washed up on Beale Street in Memphis.

It’s real.

It really happened. Now the stages of grief officially begin...

"Time takes care of the wound, so I can believe."

2007-05-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

I miss my beautiful friend.

Jeffrey Scott Buckley
November 17, 1966 - May 29, 1997

I Work, Therefore I Don’t Blog

2007-05-26T23:17:00.000-07:00

“So what’s going on with the blog?” I get asked tonight by a friend and fellow blogger.

“If your blog goes a whole month with no new posts, do they take it away from you?” asks another friend (who was unable to keep up with his blog, so I’m not sure why the pot can actually make fun of the kettle here.)

Writing is not something that I love. It’s not my go-to place when I’m going through a difficult time. In fact, it’s something that I rarely turn to in time of need. I see writing as my super needy friend – who, at the end of the day, I love – but hate when I have to deal with them. As a friend of mine once said, “I hate writing, but I love having written.” Bingo.

Let’s be honest. It’s a strange time in my life and career. Those of you who know me and get to see me/talk to me on a regular basis, already know this. I can’t/won’t go into details in such a public forum (for a multitude of reasons), but I really feel like I’m at the precipice of a watershed time in my life. I’m in line for the frigging log flume ride, and even though those fuckers at Disneyland told me it would only be an hour line – it is taking FOREVER. I have no idea where things are going to take me and that, to me, the person who product manages everything...is pretty much the definition of insanity! I trust and hope that everything will work out in the end, however it turns up. But in the meantime, I work my day job, come home, and work my “other” job. I get some sleep, get up and work my “other” job until it’s time to go to my day job. I stop into Bergin’s for a beer from time to time (where I also coincidentally pick up some additional work), and there you go.

So...needless to say, I’m a bit overwhelmed right now. But realize that I have a few “fans” whom are very vocal! So, to you – I say: “I hear you, and will try and do better.”

This blog entry is dedicated to Stretch Brown, one of the greatest dogs that ever lived.

(Anyone who was at my birthday bash at the Farmers Market in 2004 met him.)

So How Does it End?

2007-04-22T15:30:00.000-07:00

I know that you're probably on the edge of your seat...wondering how "The Telltale Smoke Detector" ends...

So, I write the blog entry and then settle down for the night. All is quiet. All is good. All, that is, until 4:45AM. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I am at wit's end.

It's too dark to do anything about it right now, so I watch the "Gilmore Girls" episode that aired earlier tonight. By the end of the episode, not only am I wondering how they can craft an entire episode out of the term "Hay Bale Maze," but it's light enough to climb up on the ladder and figure out what the EFF is going on!

Two metallic clomps and I'm on top of the step ladder; my head cocked to one side, listening for the next beep. I use both door jams to balance myself. I wait; I don't have to wait long. Beeeeeeeeeeep.

Curious. It's actually not coming from the hole in the wall (Poe be damned) in the ceiling over the hallway. I step down from the ladder and take two steps into the room attached to the hallway and look up.

I feel like an idiot.

There is ANOTHER smoke detector right there. And THAT is the one that's been giving me all of the problems. I move the ladder, climb back up and attempt to unscrew the beeping beast. It screams at me like I'm hurting it. It won't budge. I'm tempted to just yank the whole thing out of the ceiling, but am already humbled by the call I'm going to have to make to the landlord's brother later today.

I eventually swallow my pride and call him with the "bad news/good news" scenario. He replaces the problem smoke detector that afternoon.

I have my first real night of sleep in a week. And it is sweet.

Here is a visual aid of the problem. #1 is the hole in the wall where I thought the smoke detector was a problem. #2 is the newly replaced smoke detector.

I bet if i were better rested, I'd be more embarrased. :)

Chinese Audio Torture vs. The Sound of Silence

2007-04-17T23:24:00.000-07:00

So here is a little peek into my homelife over the last six days...

Thursday night one of my smoke alarms started to beep. Not the adorable cricket-chirp of a regular alarm with a dying battery, but a bit more aggressive. It was about 10pm, so I called my (tall) downstairs neighbor to attend to the situation. Minutes later, Holger, the Nordic (?) neighbor arrives at my door, stepladder in hand. His boyfriend/partner is short, too, he's used to "my kind."

He climbs up on the ladder and removes the majority of the smoke detector. At this point, we both think that this will solve the problem. Alas...

About a half hour later, it starts beeping again. It's almost eleven and I can't bring myself to call the neighbors again. Holger leaves for work at 6:30 every morning (did I mention that I'm a pseudo-light-sleeper and can hear his Jeep backing out of the driveway?). So I decide to bear it. (note the non-use of the term "grin and bear it." There is no grinning to be had.)

All. Night. Long. Randomly. For random amounts of time. The alarm sounds. There are no fires in the apartment. There is clearly something going on. Beeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Beeep. There is no method, only madness. It reminds me of when you're getting a hearing test and they play different length beeps into each ear; low and quiet. I don't know how often or how long or HOW LOUD the beeps will be in my current scenario/nightmare.

One night in and I'm already nutty as a fruitcake. I see how sleep deprivation is a form a torture.

It's Friday morning and I'm looney. I call and email my landlord to alert him to the problem. I don't hear from him and can only hope that he has fixed the problem.

I arrive home on Friday night to the sound of silence. I think/hope that he's been the apartment to solve the near-crisis. I revel in the sound of...NOTHING. No beeping, no bleating...just the sound of my cat purring me to sleep.

Pseudo fast forward to Saturday afternoon...beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Oh. No. PLEASE don't tell me that it is starting again. I eventually go out to a BBQ...only to come home to...beeeeeeeeep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I am beginning to understand the concept of torture. I cannot listen to this sound anymore.

I get an email from my landlord - I should talk to his brother because he is "out of town." I call his brother on Sunday morning. At this point, I am near delirious. I truly and completely understand how sleep deprivation/random loud sounds can throw people into insanity. Eventually the brother returns the call and comes over. I am giggly and pray for the best. He thinks it's an old smoke detector unit. He leaves and comes back 30 minutes later with a "new" unit. (those quotation marks will come into play later)

He replaces the unit. For 30 to 45 minutes, it's pure bless. Not a beep in the house. I turn to the dictionary and look up "False sense of security" and see a picture of myself there. Then, it beeps twice and falls silent. For hours. Into the night.

At 4:15am, the beeping returns. Timing is everything. I unscrew the new unit from the ceiling. I am on the verge of tears and jam some earplugs into my ears and hope that I can hear the alarm go off at 7 am. This is, literally, insanity. I have not really slept a full night in days and am really going nutty.

I eventually get in touch with the Landlord Brother (did I mention that my landlord is in Uruguay?? What the hell is anyone doing there??) and BEG him to come back. He keeps insisting that since the unit is unscrewed, that it can't possibly be beeping. I tell him (again) that this is NOT a figment of his imagination.

Long story short - I come home to the entire unit being removed from the apartment...and hopefully a full night of sleep....

The Finger

2007-04-15T13:47:00.000-07:00

You Are a Pinky

You are fiercely independent, and possibly downright weird.
A great communicator, you can get along with almost anyone.
You are kind and sympathetic. You support all your friends - and love them for who they are.

You get along well with: The Ring Finger

Stay away from: The Thumb

What Finger Are You?

Tabula Rasa

2007-04-02T22:47:00.000-07:00

Creativity is a funny thing. It's supposed to be something you feel - something that flows through you. I am, technically, not a creative person. I am very good with structured creativity, but not that good with the actual creative process. Give me a blank piece of paper and tell me that I can do anything I want to - and I slowly go into mental flat spins and will probably end up deciding to take a nap. Give me a blank piece of paper and a topic, and I can usually figure out something to say or do.

Sometimes - who am I kidding - MOST TIMES, this blog is a blank piece of paper. Sometimes my surroundings give me a topic, but I have found that recently, I've been living in the flat spin/nap cycle. Not just in the blogosphere, but in my own reality. Things have transpired in the last few months that have ended up taking up a huge portion of my available mental RAM space...programs constantly running 'in the background' of my mind. Why can't the human brain upgrade to a Pentium Processor? I'd like to be able to just snap in a metallic chip and have more space for ALL things...

But until that gets sorted out, I'm trying to live through the flat spins. And in the meantime, I have a tremendous amount of respect for those of the people in my life who ARE creative. Whether it's creativity with words, a paint brush, a musical instrument, a voice, or yes, even YOU my pickle-making vixen of a pastry chef...I stand back in awe and admiration of what it is that you all do...with your own blank canvasses every day.

Insert Blog Here

2007-04-02T01:24:00.000-07:00

Tonight, there was supposed to be a whole rambling (pointless) blog here...but SOMEONE...who shall remain nameless (H***** R*****) was supposed to give me a topic that I was supposed to blabber on about...but because of HER, all of my fan(s) will be disappointed.

Whenever you're ready, H, just let me know...

The Hills are on Fire

2007-03-30T14:51:00.000-07:00

Taken about 15 minutes ago from our backyard. Crazy!!

How did I get to be so "lucky"?

2007-03-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

Seriously, jury duty? AGAIN??

Argh!

Half-Birthday

2007-03-23T22:04:00.000-07:00

Today is my half-birthday.

At a certain point - probably around the age of 8 or 9, the half-birthdays don't mean so much to most people.

However, my regular birthday is in September. To shed some light on the system, most kids report to school/their new grade in early September. Therefore, by the third week in September (on or about the 23rd), most kids haven't decided who they like or who they don't like. Therefore, my birthday sucked every year because I didn't technically know who my friends were.

So, I started trying to celebrate my half-birthday. We were six months into the school year at that point - and I had a good idea of who was cool/who sucked. Allegedly. So I developed a random fondness for the half-birthday. Like I said, about 30 or 35 years ago, the beauty of the CONCEPT wore off. However, still, it was all/somewhat about me. Which means...

Today I am forty-three and a half. It's my half birthday. Where is my half-present??

Well, that's not something you see every day...

2007-03-19T23:01:00.000-07:00

It's a woman driving down the road (actually, stopped at the stoplight near my house) with her cat riding with her in the front seat.

Luckily I had my camera with me and could snap a photo before the light turned green. And the world fell off of it's axis.

The Final Countdown!

2007-03-15T21:52:00.000-07:00

I can't believe that St. Patrick's Day is almost here...

Here's a snap of the 'countdown clock' at my local Irish Pub...

(that's two days, five hours and 20 minutes...)

Slainte!

I bet if YOU had a blog...

2007-03-09T22:38:00.000-08:00

You'd want to tell everyone about this article in the MyWebTimes.com.

But you don't.

So you can't.

40 seconds of my 15 minutes of fame

2007-02-18T10:55:00.000-08:00

About ten years ago, I was in a music video. What an insane day this was. It involves gorilla suits, confetti, a diner somewhere in the middle of nowhere and a very surreal concept.

So Real

Look for me at about 1:30 - aka "the girl on the phone."

Spent a Week in NYC Last Week

2007-02-11T23:20:00.000-08:00

Or at least that's what it felt like...

It was a last-minute trip for me - confirmed a few short days before I left. I stayed with a friend of mine (and her husband) just off of Union Square on 13th street. I burned the candle at all ends during my trip - and it was not nearly enough to keep me warm. Parts of my body that I didn't know could get chapped, got chapped (hello, back of my kneecaps, really???). I did a lot of sightseeing on behalf of an Aussie who had never been to NYC...Empire State Building, guitar shopping, thrift stores, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Strawberry Fields, Museum of History, and oh yeah, every fucking bar in Manhattan (or so it seems). I tried to keep my 11pm curfew at my friend's house, but blew through it several times - including post-4:30am arrivals on two nights.

All in all - GREAT trip...on many levels...but does anyone know where or how I can wring out my liver?

You Aught-a Know

2007-01-16T21:39:00.000-08:00

Continuing in the theme of Alanis lyrics...for no particular reason, although this has been on my mind. We are now officially into the eighth year of this decade. What is the name of this decade? In two or three years, when we want to reflect back upon these years, what will we call them? Almost every other decade is easy. The '60s, the '70s, the '80s.

A hundred years ago, it was referred to as the "turn of the century" or the "early nineteen hundreds." What will we say when we're talking about these years?

Remember Lindsay Lohan? She was always a target of the paparazzi back at the turn of the century.

I can't believe gas is so cheap now. Remember at the turn of the century is was three dollars a gallon?

It doesn't quite work. We have gone seven full years and no one has stepped forward and named the decade. I want to put in my vote. I'm a big fan of AUGHT. According to the Free Dictionary, it means "zero" (among other things). You can't call the decade the O's, because let's face it, that's what they call the Baltimore Orioles (or the Balmer Oreos).

When was American Idol popular? Oh that was back in the aughts, wasn't it?

Who's with me? If not, what do YOU think it should be?

Thank You, India

2007-01-15T22:44:00.000-08:00

I don't usually quote lyrics by Alanis Morissette...but I just have to give mad props to some new friends of mine.

You see, I've been internet-ally challenged at my humble abode for quite awhile. The amount of time that my internet decides to work has been gradually depleting over the last few weeks...to the point that I only had about ten minutes' worth since Friday morning. And my landlord is out of town for a month or so. It's killin' me!

This morning, I decided I had had enough. I went to Staples and bought a wireless router and USB adapter for my computer. I have excellent DSL reception from the phone in my living room - which isn't convenient to my computer which is in another room entirely. It took two calls to Linksys technical support and one call to Yahoo DSL technical support for it all to work out. Thanks to my new friends, "Bill," "Julie" and "Another Fake American Sounding Name I Can't Remember," who helped bring me back into the computer age.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

2007-01-12T07:54:00.000-08:00

We’ve been together for years – as long as I’ve been in Los Angeles. We saw each other through so many changes. He was there for me, I was there for him. We needed each other. Eventually, things started to go wrong. I would communicate my problems with him. He would always tell me that he’d work to make himself better for me.

Recently, I had had enough. He just wasn’t there for me anymore and he was taking money from me. I had to make a change. I found someone else.

When I told him I was breaking up with him, it was only at that point that he begrudgingly asked “Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” If only he had been that willing to help over the years...maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

So, I bid you farewell, Time Warner Cable. Meet the new guy, DirecTV.

Resolve

2007-01-01T10:13:00.000-08:00

One of the many things I dread about the holiday season is the whole "What's your resolution" BS. Why go through the motions of coming up with a million things that you may or may not adhere to for a few days? Which is why I have come up with the concept of resolutions that are based in reality...things that I will actually stick to!

This year's resolution...drum roll please...is...

I will brush my teeth using the full two-minute timer on my Sonicare.

I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I've recently started trying to just beat the clock, so to speak. Two minutes seems like a million years while you're brushing your teeth...even if it's broken up in 30-second intervals.

Wish me luck. And I wish you luck quitting smoking, exercising more, eating healthy, swearing less, or whatever resolutions you have.

'Tis the Post-Season

2006-12-27T08:55:00.000-08:00

Back when I used to be festive and have my own real live Christmas tree in my apartment, I would be posed with a dilemma after Christmas Day.

What do I do with this fire hazard and how do I get it out of my house without leaving a trail of pine needles and sap?

I don't remember how I found this organization, but for those of you in California, let me introduce you to: California Christmas Tree Recycling.

For a small fee, they will come to your house, take down the tree, get it out of the house, CLEAN UP AND VACCUUM the, ahem, "remains" and then take your tree to be mulched. Best of all, they donate a portion of the money to the TreePeople, a non-profit organization that helps "nature heal our cities."

It's a win-win, in my book.

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Me

2006-12-24T08:43:00.000-08:00

“Thanks” for the tag, Shannon. Actually, I needed a kick-start to get back to blogging, so it’s almost sort of a real thanks. :)

1. My first car was a ’72 Pontiac LeMans that was missing second gear and got eight miles to the gallon. I only ran out of gas once in that beast.

2. I am very shy.

3. I’m pretty sure that I was dropped on my head as a child and a part of my tastebuds never developed properly. I can’t stand tastes such as coffee, dark chocolate, wine, Guinness etc. (the “bitter” buds).

4. I got in an accident many years ago and wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, so I smushed the windshield with my head and briefly lost consciousness. As a result, I sometimes have a hard time finishing sentences or finding words.

5. The name of my blog was taken from a song from Ben Harper – “My Own Two Hands.”

So, to carry on the game of tag, I tag Gina.

What did you call me??

2006-11-29T20:30:00.000-08:00

C'mon Elton, I can hear you. This is a bit uncalled for.

Sydney Entertainment Centre - Sydney Australia 29 Nov 2006

I'm Leavin' on a Jet Plane...

2006-11-12T15:07:00.000-08:00

And I actually DO know when I'll be back again - on December 9th.

Now, how do I tell Boo that she can't go??

Rumsfeld quits, Democrats sweep election

2006-11-08T14:43:00.000-08:00

How beautiful is that headline?

Are You Gonna Be My...iPod Battery?

2006-11-03T22:27:00.000-08:00

So, I've had an iPod for awhile. And awhile ago, my iPod battery clearly stopped being my friend. It would hold a charge for less than an hour. My "favorite" (see sarcastic font on that word) moment was when I was flying to Atlanta and onto Athens, Greece. I plugged in the iPod, hoping to listen to my favorite flying album, OK Computer. (Long story.) I got a song and a half into my ritual, and pffft, the iPod battery just puttered out. And I had about 700 hours left in the flight!

With another huge flight/trip ahead of me, I just couldn't bear the thought of having no iPod for the flight...so I started doing some research on the internet on possible solutions.

So, the first time I heard about the iPod battery situation was when I read a NY Times article about iPod's "Irreplaceable Battery" and that some guys did a video about iPod's "Dirty Secret." So you can't say that I wasn't warned. The replacement fee went from two hundred something to ninety-something to fifty-something. Still. You send them your iPod and at some point, they send you back another one (refurbished) and you have to re-load your tunes. For 99.99% of the population, that is agreeable. But if I'm going to get a blank slate, I'm going to start loading the thing on my home computer - which is a PC - as opposed to Kris' BS mac throwaway, which was the only iPod compatible computer that I had when I got the damned thing. But I digress.

So I find another site where I could buy a replacement battery for the iPod, iPodJuice.com. Not only could I get a battery, but it would have MORE LIFE than the original battery. But, I was worried, I'm sortof a tech dork (and not in a good way). I wasn't sure that I could replace the thing on my own and was seriously considering paying the $20 to have them replace it for me. Then I watched the video that they have on their site and it seemed pretty easy to do it myself. So I ordered the kit. Plus, $20 will buy me four beers at Tom Bergin's.

Within a few days, I received the kit. It contains an opener, a battery, and colored instructions. I wanted to have Rudy and Brandon at my disposal. They're sortof techy, but let's be honest, they are boys, so their attention to detail is not great.

The first step, which is admittedly the hardest, is to get the iPod case open. They provide a tool, which is supposedly so sharp that you need to be careful. Mine wasn't so sharp, plus Rudy kept wanting to play with the tool. I kept telling him to stop! After about four minutes, it was clear that this puppy wasn't going to pop open anytime soon. The tool had become dull and the folks at iPodJuice.com recommend using sandpaper to sharpen it back up. I sent Rudy off in search of sandpaper. He came back with five different weights of sandpaper AND an industrial strength box cutter. That's when I knew he was going to be a problem. Luckily, he forgot that he had an appointment and ran off to it - late. The tool was all mine again.

When I had a free moment at work, I tried prying open the case. I could NOT do it, and to be honest, my thumb HURT. I thought I would be one of those people that could not open this fucker. Then I came up with some sort of concept. I would "hold" the iPod up on top of a pile of something and use the force of the opener to jimmy open the side. After a few tries, I could feel it starting to give. Success!!

Eventually, it popped open. I used the tool to finish opening the entire thing. Boy, was my warranty invalidated about 1000 times over and over! The instructions told me how to remove the back cover, remove the hard drive (which is actually two pieces), remove the battery, insert the new one, replace the hard rive and pop the back cover back on. Easy. Ish.

I needed the two boys to help me - but for random issues. The hard drive was in two pieces and I only unplugged the first one, so I had to go back in and unplug two pieces. I couldn't figure out which way to plug the battery in, because my OLD eyes can't figure out which end was up on the female/male plug configuration. I apparently crushed the little "fingers" and Brandon had to fix them so that we could get the battery in.

Then I was afraid I would crush the motherboard. Because Rudy has worked on other electronic stuff, plus he's the son of Ike, I decided that he would be the best one to reattach the motherboard. I was sweating and trying to figure out how I was going to afford a new iPod.

Once we got the battery in, the motherboard reattached, etc., it was time to put the back of the iPod back on and power that baby up.

All systems go. I plugged it into the socket and was happy to see the CHARGING icon. Almost as happy was seeing that the battery was still charging - hours later. We might actually hold a charge!

And so far, so good. I charged the battery and then proceeded to listen to the iPod. On shuffle. AND fast forwarding through songs. I went back to my iPod a few hours later, and there was a still a charge!

Thank you iPodJuice, Rudy and Brandon...I think this might just WORK!!! :)

H Squared

2006-11-01T00:01:00.000-08:00

Happy Halloween!

So I'm sure all of my reader(s) are curious...although I think I have told you all individually, but I decided in a fit of non-creativity - to go as a black cat for Halloween. Not just any black cat, but MY black cat, Boo. Here I am with my equally creative friend, Marisa, who went as a, um, er, blonde girl wearing a wig and a hat with a drawn-on mole? Scary!!

My favorite costumes of the night were:

Erik as "Global Warming"

Random Stranger as "Jeffrey from Project Runway."

And of course, Jeff the bartender as: Mexican Wrestler:

By the way, the only party foul of the night was when I slammed my tail in the door of the car at 7-11. Boy, do I feel for Toonces.

Really?

2006-10-29T22:42:00.000-08:00

The Broncos lost?
The Raiders won?
The Cowboys won?

I think I have to call in sick to work.

Trick or Treat??

2006-10-23T22:35:00.000-07:00

Help!

I need ideas for a Halloween Costume.

My original idea was blacklisted for being in bad taste.

My other idea might be a bit too obscure. (Olive from Little Miss Sunshine in her "talent show" outfit.)

So. I'm looking for something cheap and cheerful. And ideally, clever.

HELP!!!

Front Row. Fashion Show. Way to Go.

2006-10-21T23:22:00.000-07:00

This past Wednesday night, I was a guest at the Elsie Katz Couture fashion show at the Mercedes Benz Fashion Week. This time a year ago, I had never been to a fashion show ever. Because of designer Donna Baxter, I have now been to three. If you couple that with my viewing of Project Runway, I'm pretty much an authority. Because I'm a friend of the designer, I have somehow managed to snag a front row seat at each of the three shows. Sweet.

For those who don't get the invite, I'll fill you in on what happens. The show takes place at Smashbox Studios. There is virtually no parking around there, so you have to sell your first born child in order to afford the valet parking (paid in advance, thank you). Fifteen bucks. Apparently there is some sort of shuttle, but I don't know anything about it.

Upon entering the event, there is a "photo op" backdrop, where people can (and will) be photographed on their entrance. No one knows me, so I slink past the entrance to check in. The tent is filled with all sorts of companies trying to hock their wares. Cingular, Smashbox Cosmetics, Dasani water, and several alcohol companies. I partake in a Peroni. I tell the guy I can only give him a dollar because the valet guys have taken all of their money. He understands.
I see my friend Bean. He's in line with his dad (the Chief), his cousin, his mysterious daughter and Donna's dad, Howard. I join them in line. We're escorted into the room early. The photographers are setting up and taking their positions. We all find our seats and wait for the rest of the room to take shape.

The photographers pounce on any and all celebrities - of all levels. I see several actresses (?) posing for a plethora of pictures.

Here is actress Arielle Kebelle posing for some photogs.

Here is Kelly Hu - being blinded by about a thousand cameras.

Then it's time for the show. There are only about a million cameras at the end of the runway. No pressure!

The music starts. The models start pouring out of the backstage area. They are dressed beautifully. They have expressionless faces. (I can only assume that Donna told them to think about math.) They stroll down the runway in their FLAT, no-heeled sandals (way to go Donna!!), pose for the photographers, and then stroll back up as another model is sprung from the backstage area. Because of my location, I can see the emotionless models leave the stage and bolt to get their next costume change. It's good to see that they have an actual pulse. In the last third of the show (when the models are already wearing their finale outfits), they leave the stage with a whole different energy. They dance, they hop, they love their jobs.

It's the finale. Model after model on the runway, showing off their gorgeous and creative outfits. The collection is beautiful. I am in awe of Donna's work, as always. I think about Fashion Week as Thanksgiving. A ton of work, and it's over in ten minutes.

Donna appears on the runway. One of the models takes Donna's hand and leads her down the runway. Brava!

And it's over. Just like that. We wait afterwards to see Donna. I catch up with Richard Cheese (hi Mark) and Mark Thompson from Channel 11.

The (almost) best part of the night is that a bunch of us are going to go to dinner afterwards - and that dinner is Roscoe's. There's one about a third of a mile from my house. I get there and tell them that there are about ten of us coming. They can't seat us until we all arrive. So I sit outside and read my program from the fashion show. And I read it again. And again. And again. Again. Again. Again. A waitress comes out to talk to me. "Honey, you alright? You want a biscuit o' somethin'?" I think she thinks I'm homeless. I wait for about 45 minutes.

Bean calls. He has good news and bad news. The good news is that I'm at Roscoe's. The bad news is that no one told their driver that they wanted to go, so they're now at their hotel in Santa Monica. Dude.

I tell the biscuit waitress of my dilemma and ask how I can order something to go. Then I decide, eff it...and get a seat in Mama's section. She takes care of me.

So, all in all an excellent night. Fantastically beautiful clothes and one delicious waffle.

One Succulent Breast, One Delicious Waffle

2006-10-18T22:06:00.000-07:00

Personal to Bean:

Bite me.

A Traffic Lesson

2006-10-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

Here's a question for all drivers out there:

You're driving on the freeway in the right lane and want to exit at the next exit. But before that happens, another car is trying to enter the freeway from the right, from the previous exit's onramp. What do you do?

a. realize that you're going to decrease your speed soon enough, so you slow down and let the other car (which needs to increase speed to be on the freeway, and is now trapped in an "exit only" lane) in front of you.

b. hit the gas and not let the other car in - only to piss the driver* off when they have to fall in behind you, only to have you slow down in about 5 seconds to get off the freeway.

If you choose B, then you are a bad person.

*Yes, I am always the driver in the "I want to merge onto the freeway" car. And When I am Queen, everyone who does "B" will immediately be shot. (To maim, not kill. C'mon, I'm not a crazy dictator Queen.)

All Hail Columbus!

2006-10-09T01:07:00.000-07:00

If it were not for Chris Columbus, "Gremlins" and "Goonies" would never have been written.

"Adventures in Babysitting", "Home Alone", "Mrs. Doubtfire" and the first two Harry Potter movies would not have been directed.

It is because of this, that we honor you, Chris Columbus, on this day - October 9.

I'm not sure why I get the day off (along with banks, the Post Office and some schools), but I'm not complaining.

The Day the Music (retailer) Died...

2006-10-06T22:54:00.000-07:00

It's the end of an era.

Today, Tower Records was auctioned off to the highest bidder - which turned out to be a company called Great American. As a result of said auction, all Tower Records stores will begin "out-of-business" sales starting tomorrow.

This is a sad day for the record industry. Tower Records was one of the first national uber-stores. The stores were huge. You could get whatever you wanted in any of the stores. They had space for in-store performances and autograph signings. They had it all.

I remember the first time I saw a Tower Records. It was 1984. I was working at a record store in Georgetown, Washington DC. Bruce Springsteen had just released "Born in the USA." The record company had done a contest where the best display won a trip to anywhere in the USA. Guess who won? Me! I decided that I didn't need to use all $1000 of the record company's money...I would simply ask for front row tickets to a Springsteen concert in the Mid-Atlantic region and be done with it. The guy at the label said "I can't get you that," so I decided to use as much as the $1000 as I could, and try and see Bruce Springsteen somewhere else in the USA. Again, he told me he couldn't get me tickets. (A-hole.) I decided to go to Los Angeles. First time for everything, right? I flew to LA, rented a car, stayed in a nice hotel - just a few blocks from the Sunset strip.

My first night in LA, I decided to go the famous Tower Records on Sunset. I wandered around awhile and decided to speak to some of the employees - record store employee to record store employee. I asked them if they knew how to get any tickets to see Springsteen. They told me that all of the shows were sold out, but his band and crew - but not him - was staying at the Sunset Marquis.

I had brought my tour program with me from home - I had bought it at a show in Maryland. I looked in the credits and found the name of his tour manager and proceeded to write a letter- to tell him why I was here and that I wanted a ticket. I walked to the Sunset Marquis, which was about three blocks from where I was staying, and dropped off the letter for the tour manager.

A couple of hours later, I got a call from the Tour Manager's assistant. He had a ticket for me to see the show at the LA Sports Arena. I flipped OUT! I couldn't believe that they were giving me a ticket to a way-sold-out-show. I wrote a 'thank you note' and proceeded to take it to the hotel. As I approached the hotel, I saw both Danny Federici and Garry Tallent. The reality of the situation was starting to hit me. I went into the lobby and waited for someone to greet me at the front desk. In the meantime, I glanced out at the swimming pool and saw a familiar gait. Oh. My. God. It's. Effing. Bruce. Springsteen!!!

"I'd like to leave this for a hotel guest," I said to the clerk at the hotel. "Can I go out there to the pool area?" The clerk nodded. I walked out to the pool and walked right up to...I can barely get the words out...Bruce Springsteen. I said "Excuse me..." and proceeded to tell him my story. He said "Are you the girl from Maryland that won the contest?" I stepped back in shock and said "Yes!" He turned to the people sitting with him and said "They flew you all the way out here but didn't get you tickets to the show? Now what kinda contest is that?" He knew who I was and why I was there. It blew my mind. I asked him if I could have a hug - he replied, "Of course you can." And that's about all I remember. I went to the show at the Sports Arena and had an amazing time.

If it weren't for the folks at Tower Records, I would have never have known. Any of it.

I've done my "time" at Tower. I can't even begin to tell you how awful it was to have to inventory classical records (LPs) at the Tower in DC in 1984 - every MONTH! At that same Tower, we had them to do an in-store with Branford Marsalis, and then begged them to take another artist named Harry Connick, Jr. The first in-store performance that I ever did was with Mary Chapin Carpenter. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Over the years, I've had my share of memories. As a customer, as a label, and again as a customer.

I can't believe that in about a half hour...that memory will start to be sold off, piece by piece...

Behold the Termite!

2006-10-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

It is because of he (or she) that I have a day off of work on Friday!

We spent this afternoon putting everything in plastic bags (times two) and opening all drawers and cabinets. Tomorrow, the nice men with the circus tent come over and suck out all of the oxygen in the house to make the termites (and hopefully the ants) go away.

All I know is that I get the day off. And that's a good thing.

No. No. No. No. NO!

2006-10-02T07:56:00.000-07:00

High Fidelity - The Musical

This is wrong on so many levels. I don't even know what to say. All you have to do is watch the "Top Five Breakups" video and try to imagine John Cusack singing this. This truly can't be what Nick Hornby was ever thinking, is it?

I have to go scrub my eyeballs now.

The Princess' Reign Continues!

2006-09-28T00:02:00.000-07:00

So the only party foul from my annual birthday celebration is that I seem to have "misplaced" my little wallet that contains my Driver License, Debit card, and about 1000 receipts - ala a Constanza wallet.

I immediately (after calling the Farmers Market, the Gumbo Pot, the Cat Club and Tom Bergins) canceled my Debit card and on the advice of a friend of mine, called one of the Big Three credit companies to place a "fraud alert" on my account. Apparently with just a Driver License, anyone can open any sort of account. A fraud alert is a 90-day "hold" on your credit account - which means that if any accounts are attempted to be opened in your name, you will be called to verify. The best thing is that the one credit company that I called (Equifax) will call the other two companies and pass along the info. Pretty awesome, right? I'll try and forget that they actually tried to sell me some sort of stupid financial protection blabbity blah. Dude, take a look at my freakin' credit rating and you tell me if I can afford to spend additional money on that! C'mon!

My next step was to make an appointment at the DMV. They actually had an appointment available the next morning at 9:50am...bonus! I showed up at the DMV in Hollywood (the one on Cole, not on Vine) at about 9:35am and filled out my application for a duplicate license. I was given a number and was told to wait...which I did for about three whole minutes. The guy behind the counter was a tattoo-laden latino-descent dude who wore a keyring on his arm that jingled whenever he moved. He keyed in all of my info, moved his head toward the computer screen and looked at me. "Are you wearing a CROWN in your photo?" he asked in disbelief. I said "Yes, and I brought it with me again today, just in case I have to take the picture again." (I didn't bother to correct him -that in fact it was a tiara, not a crown. A crown goes all the way around your head - a tiara doesn't.) He shook his head and said "No, it's cool, you can keep the same photo." He processed my paperwork, I paid my twenty bucks and I was out of there by 9:45...I swear. Ten minutes. In and out. AND I get to keep my crown.

It was a good day. Who saw that coming?

Having a Blog Has Finally Paid Off!

2006-09-26T22:17:00.000-07:00

I got my first marriage proposal! Take THAT Rupert Everett!

Thank you KingsFan. One day I'll tell you how I nearly broke my finger on an errant puck at a hockey game. That ought to seal the deal. :)

But that's only if you tell me the long story about how you happened upon my blog...

Really?

2006-09-24T23:45:00.000-07:00

Are there really enough people who own ferrets in my neighborhood to warrant my local Ralph's grocery store carrying FERRET CHOW?

Go figure.

Well, That's Not What You Want to Hear...

2006-09-21T23:12:00.000-07:00

I'm catching up with all of my celebrity gossip tonight - and I stumbled across a lovely quote by Rupert Everett...definitely not something that a never-married straight woman should be reading on the eve-eve of her 43rd birthday...

Unfortunately, I am single. But I'm too exhausted for anything else and being gay is a young man's game. Now no one wants me. Being gay and being a woman has one big thing in common, which is that we both become invisible after the age of 42.

If you want to read more - and I can't imagine why you would...please visit the Queen of All Media's website, Perez Hilton.

If you need me, I'll be at home, frantically erasing my birth year from my birth certificate.

Mine...Mine...ALL MINE...

2006-09-16T00:24:00.000-07:00

Today I paid off my car. Finally.

Now I'm not saying that it took a long time to actually OWN my 1998 Honda Accord (reasonable facsimile pictured above), but let me take you on a little journey to the time when I actually took ownership of the vehicle.

I was leaving the next day to go see the Spice Girls (five of them) kick off their world tour in Dublin, Ireland. (For work, not pleasure.)

And in the real world...

Bill Clinton was in the White House. The Lewinsky story had just broken.
Lance Armonstrong had not yet won a Tour De France (he went on to win seven times).
George Clooney could be seen on your TV every week on ER.
Seinfeld was still on the air - with new episodes, not in syndication.
Frank Sinatra and JFK Jr. were still alive.
There were only three Star Wars movies.
MTV's "The Real World" was the only reality TV show (Survivor wouldn't happen for two more years).
Viagra was still just a twinkle in the eye of the FDA.
The Concorde Super Sonic Jet was still flying.
John Elway had just won his first Super Bowl.
Titanic was the #1 movie and that damned Celine Dion had the #1 song.
Puff Daddy (aka P Diddy) had just been nominated for "Best New Artist."
Shawn Colvin won the Grammy for Best Song of the Year - her thank-you speech was interrupted by Old Dirty Bastard (Big Baby Jesus) - who died six years later in 2004
Oprah was on trial in Texas for the mad cow/beef incident. It was at this trial that she met Dr. Phil.
"Columbine" was just the name of a flower.
Pluto was still considered a planet. (Sorry Bean)

So, in summary, I've been paying for this car for 1,000 years - and have probably paid about $50K for a car worth about a third of that.

But as of today...it's all mine...

My Late-Night Choice

2006-09-14T22:04:00.000-07:00

OK, so maybe not everyone agrees with my Late Night TV choice, but I choose - hands down - Jimmy Kimmel. I used to love Dave. But then Dave got TOO bitter. Then Jimmy got a show. I couldn't believe that Jimmy had a show. And then...I fell in love with Jimmy's show. It didn't happen immediately. He was nervous and a bit awkward...but then again, aren't we all?

So, last night was Jimmy's anniversary show. For months and months he's been ending his show with the ridiculous "Apologies to Matt Damon, we ran out of time." As if they had Matt Damon booked on the show and they spent all this time with the other guests.

At the end of last night's show - he finally nailed the booking of a lifetime. Matt Damon. What a classic resolution to a long-running bit! And for anyone who doesn't think that Matt Damon is a good actor...think again...and please enjoy:

Digital Inspiration

2006-09-11T22:29:00.000-07:00

Inspired by my friend Bean's ability to capture interesting images with his camera - I've been taking my camera with me everywhere I go for the last week or so. Here's a few of my results:

flowers on fountain

absinthe spoon

fairy lights reflected on a glass table

spiderwebs

karl in the bounce-house

happy birthday, jack

September When It Comes

2006-09-01T23:20:00.000-07:00

This gorgeous song just showed up on my iPod and I thought it was the perfect song for today.

September When it Comes
Rosanne Cash (Featuring Johnny Cash)

There's a cross above the baby's bed,
A Saviour in her dreams.
But she was not delivered then,
And the baby became me.
There's a light inside the darkened room,
A footstep on the stair.
A door that I forever close,
To leave those memories there.

So when the shadows link them,
Into an evening sun.
Well first there's summer, then I'll let you in.
September when it comes.

I plan to crawl outside these walls,
Close my eyes and see.
And fall into the heart and arms,
Of those who wait for me.
I cannot move a mountain now;
I can no longer run.

I cannot be who I was then:
In a way, I never was.

I watch the clouds go sailing;
I watch the clock and sun.
Oh, I watch myself, depending on,
September when it comes.

So when the shadows link them,
And burn away the clouds.
They will fly me, like an angel,
To a place where I can rest.
When this begins, I'll let you know,
September when it comes.

A Few Things on My Mind

2006-08-31T23:28:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much time to muse - at least not online. So this will be a mish-mash of thoughts.

First of all...I got my car washed this weekend. That's right, I get it washed every year whether it needs it or not. In between juggling crossword and Sudoku puzzles from Sunday's LA Times, I glanced up and tried to figure out - do I actually heart Boba? And if I do, what about their Soomthies are so awesome...and uh, what IS a soomthie?

Second thought: I was looking up something on iTunes earlier this week and my eye caught this Bob Dylan advertisement. I've never really thought that Bob looked like Phil Lynott from Thin Lizzy...up until now...

Third thought: Would you believe that the Get Smart! television series isn't yet available on DVD? I wasn't sure that the jokes would hold up after all these years, but this clip on YouTube shows that it's just as awesome today as it was 35 years ago. Yeah, I said 35.

Fourth and final thought: Never let insurance lapse. I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, whose month of August has sucked. Really sucked. The only reason why he's still here is because of insurance. He was in the emergency room then hospital earlier in the month for almost a whole week. Numerous tests, a private room, etc. Let's just say: thank you, health insurance! Now, he's back at work, healthy, with some color in his face. Somewhere in the last twenty-four hours, his freaking CAR was stolen! Thank god for car insurance. And thank god that tomorrow (eight minutes from now) is September. August has offically sucked.

And yikes. My 43rd birthday is only three weeks away...

A Winning Dress!

2006-08-28T09:05:00.000-07:00

Congrats to the Winner!

Not the actress who won the Emmy - but instead to my pal Donna. The very wise and winning actress chose to wear a dress from Donna's company, Elsie Katz Couture.

Congrats Donna for proving once again, you are an incredibly talented designer.

:)

I Heart "On Demand"

2006-08-26T23:01:00.000-07:00

TV is good. Cable TV is better. Cable TV with "On Demand" is amazing. TiVo is the top of the heap. This post relates to "On Demand."

For some reason, I haven't programmed "Entourage" into either of my DVRs. I'm not sure why - I just haven't. But thanks to the joy of "On Demand," I can watch Entourage any time I want to.

Today I caught up on the last three or four episodes. This show is just magic. It reminds me of Seinfeld...if you have to explain what happened in a certain episode, it may not sound like a lot happened, but what did happen was awesome.

Personally, I love the character that Jeremy Piven plays - Ari Gold. Not only is Jeremy Piven a freakin' peach - who I have loved since I first saw him in whatever 80s movie he was in. A highlight was the checkout clerk in "Singles" - when Campbell Scott's character (Steve Dunn) was buying a million pregnancy tests. Classic scene. "What's so funny 'bout PEACE, PEACE, PEACE, love and understanding?" But ultimately pales in comparison to each and every scene that he plays as Ari Gold on Entourage. Seriously. Classic. For ten minutes of Ari's greatest hits, just check out this upload on YouTube. "How did the Bay of Pigs go, Lloyd?

So politically incorrect. So fucking ARI! :)

Let's hug it out, bitch.

We're going to hell. Bring your sunblock.

Edited to add: Congrats to Jeremy Piven for winning a freaking EMMY for his portrayal of SuperAgent Ari Gold! On the same night that he gets fired as Vincent Chase's agent...or does he??

Confessions of an Un-Pretty Girl

2006-08-25T22:16:00.000-07:00

Last month, Gina wrote about what it's like to not be the "IT" girl. It became a celebration of Geek Girls. Great way to look at it! (or "IT")

This month, I'll also write about what it's like to not be the "IT" girl. As Gina so eloquently put it, You know her. She’s golden. Gorgeous, great body, magnetic personality, intelligent...COOL. Everyone wants to be around her. She drives men absolutely mad.

I have several friends who are this girl. It's not until I spend time with these friends that I realize how much of a division there is between the "me" girl and the "IT" girl. In fact, I was hanging out with one last night. One of the best things about this particular "IT" girl is that she has, in her own words, "been both."

As a kid, she was awkward and 'ugly.' She had scoliosis and wore a full-body brace. Her mom cut her hair close to her head. All I can think of is Joan Cusack in Sixteen Candles. Not the kind of girl that boys flock to.

She told me that she was ridiculed and mocked when she was young. Eventually she got the brace off and her hair grew out. She grew into her beauty. However, inside she was exactly the same. She remembers people treating her differently and not knowing why - since they had treated her so poorly for the past few years.

Her awkward years made her discriminating. She can now tell who likes her for her - and who is shallow and surfacy - which means a lot in this town.

Back to last night. It's odd to see men react to my friend. Their eyes traverse her body from head to toe. They're dumbfounded. They literally fall over themselves to speak to her - to find anything to say to her to make conversation. They want to touch her - to say "hi," or "nice to meet you" or even "do you have a light?" They make incredibly awkward small talk, or bump into her - anything to connect. They throw phone numbers at her, hit on her and try to charm her with all sorts of odd "lines." They manage to eek out one sentence to her and then think they have some sort of connection with her.

This does not happen to me. In fact, this has NEVER happened to me. If it weren't for my pretty friends, I wouldn't even know that it existed. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Mystery Solved!

2006-08-17T23:32:00.000-07:00

Guess who I talked to this morning! None other than my friend Matthew, who I was sure was wrapped around a telephone pole somewhere in Rhode Island.

This morning, i decided to start calling incessantly until I reached him. Lo and behold on my first call of the day - he answered! Turns out that he's been incredibly swamped workwise and to paraphrase - doesn't have anything to blog about. My heart rate eventually lowered to a manageable rate and I moved along with the conversation. I was really starting to panic. I was searching newspapers in Rhode Island and Massachusetts to see if there was any mention of him. I even emailed the website of the TV show that he works for - looking for him. All for naught. He's alive and guess where he is - LOS - FREAKIN - ANGELES! He's there for work, so won't have time for socialization until Monday night. So - who wants to meet me at Bergins on Monday and beat Matt around the head and shoulders for giving me a scare?

So...onto other subjects...I'm writing this email from New Orleans. I flew here today for a work-related activity. "How's flying?" you ask. It was OK. I arrived at the airport parking lot about an hour and 45 minutes ahead of time. I couldn't find a place to park (which will be another rant in another blog) and then the shuttle bus stopped at nearly every terminal...and of course I was flying United - Terminal 7. I was literally sweating (yes, Bean, that's the correct use of the phrase) as the bus was stopping at T1, T2, T4, etc. When I got to the counter, I didn't realize that the humans that are standing there are not there to check you in. You have to check yourself in on the touchscreen - and the humans retrieve the baggage tag, check your ID - and that's about it.

After checking my bag, I had to go outside the terminal where I checked in and go a few doors down to "Gate D." The line leading to Gate D was relatively short - thank god. In fact, the security guy was trying to make sure that people knew that there were three lines - not just one - which put me at the head of one of the lines. I had to put all of my belongings in trays. Tray one was my purse. Tray two was my laptop computer from work. Tray three was my shoes and my sweater. And "tray four" was my carry on bag. I had no idea how much stuff I had. I didn't get flagged and made it through security unharmed. For once, there was plenty of room in the overhead luggage. I think everyone is checking everythings.

The flight was ontime and the trip was uneventful. Upon our descent into New Orleans, everyone's head was trying to stretch around - wanting to see any of the devastation - which we couldn't see from the plane. I walked down to baggage claim as my "pink monster" (a free suitcase which has pink trim which - trust me - will NOT be mistaken for any other bags on the carousel) was coming around the bend. Got into a cab and made my way downtown.

What did I see? Nothing. The rebuilding of the city (apparently) has only happened in the neighborhoods between the airport and downtown. Other than the tell-tale signs of construction - there's no way that you can tell that anything happened. The cab driver (who was from Vietnam) confirmed that they went out of their way to fix these routes because of the tourists. To see the horrific devastation (and the lack of rebuilding) - one has to go outside of the city.

Arrived at the hotel, unpacked, and made my way to the cocktail party - followed by an incredible (buffet-style) dinner. After the dinner and show (three bands - including Gregg Allman's son - boy, that lineage wasn't blessed with strong chins, were they?), I went back to the hotel bar, which is revolving. We had to wait half a revolution before we got served.

I also want to add that I walked through Bourbon Street. It has about 1/1000th of the people that were there just about this time last year...but the volume on the clubs hasn't changed. Loud, pumping drum beats...yikes!

The city is quieter and less frantic than last year. Time flies...

Matt Du Jour

2006-08-16T23:33:00.000-07:00

Day Two of the "Matthew, You're Lost - Is Your Bowtie Really a Camera" search.

I know Shannon joins me in my questioning of Matt's disappearance.

So in the interest of brevity (I have to pack for a short business trip to New Orleans), here is today's picture of Matt. I know he hates this one, although personally, I love it.

Matthew Meltzer, where are you???????

2006-08-15T22:48:00.000-07:00

A man who committed to a summer of blogging hasn't blogged since July 31.
I sent an email AND called him...looking for him.

Matthew - I promise that I will post a photo of you every day until I hear from you. Don't make me send the Ghostbusters out to find you...because I probably can't get their producer on the phone!

Here's today's photo.

When a Song is actually a Movie

2006-08-14T22:59:00.000-07:00

Seriously, "New York City Serenade" by Bruce Springsteen may be one of the best songs ever. I'll get this out in the open: It's not for everyone. And it's thirty-three years old.

It starts off with the opening sequence - an amazing piano intro by David Sancious (pronounced Sanchez - how awesome is that?). Then we're introduced to the hero of our story - Bruce's acoustic guitar, followed by his narrative. Walk tall, or baby, don't walk at all.

What follows is nearly ten minutes of character development - told through Bruce's vocal, the interaction between the guitar, piano and the violins. It's not your typical verse/chorus/verse framework for a song. I don't even think that any of the lines rhyme. (Unless you count repeating phrases such as "She won't take the train" as rhymes.) Wait, who is that new character, is it Clarence's saxophone? It is!

This song is it's own soundtrack to the movie that it paints aurally. In fact, visuals would probably ruin the song. Every time I hear it, it transports me to another time and place. A dark, smoky, sexy Saturday night, somewhere off the NJ turnpike - off the beaten path...where a jazz man or blues man can play a serenade...where a junkman can sing...and a girl in Los Angeles can get lost for a about nine minutes and fifty five seconds...

It's a Crazy Spice World We Live In

2006-08-13T13:18:00.000-07:00

This morning I finally got around to seeing 2002’s Bend It Like Beckham. (Nice of me to finally get around to it the week that Beckham got dropped from the England Squad). The movie stars Parminder Nagra, who most US people know as Neela from ER, Jonathan Rhys Meyers from MIiii (although I like to think of him from Velvet Goldmine so that I can think of Ewan McGregor naked), and Kiera Knightly from being hot fame. Due to my several year obsession with the UK Soap Opera EastEnders, I also was familiar with the actor who played Jess’ newly out-of-the-closet friend Tony – he played middle brother Adi Ferreira on EastEnders.

The guy who played Jess’ father – I just looked him up on IMDB only to find out that he’s been in almost 250 movies! His character worked at the airport – I assume in some sort of security function, because he wore a badge. In fact, he reminded me of a guy at Heathrow Airport that I had the pleasure of meeting about 15 years ago on my first trip to the UK. And by “pleasure of meeting” I mean that he went through everyone one of my belongings and bags. Here’s an excerpt from my journal I kept on that trip:

October 14, 1991

Ran errands on Oxford Street and then back to Victoria Station to get bag and off to Heathrow. Ran so late and got chosen by customs. Yick. Had to have bag searched and take all contents out of other. Had a hard time checking in and got checked at every post – down to a guy opening my toothbrush, toothpaste, saline, etc. and yet another metal detector. This flying experience is the only real problem that I’ve seen so far – it really ruins the mood to have all of your stuff searched.

So here we are fifteen years later and the US airports are finally catching up to the UK with their security checks. I remember hearing the announcements in the airports and tube stations to watch for unattended baggage, so it wasn’t as scary for me when they started those announcements in America. The rest of the world has been living with the threat of terrorism for decades – this is all still so new to us. Sadly.

To end this post on a happier note, I just wanted to chat briefly about Beck’s wife, Victoria. Now I don’t know how many of my reader(s) know this, but I was working for Virgin Records (the label, not the music store) at the time of the Spice Girls’ explosion in America...and, ahem, I apologize in advance when I tell you that I was responsible for the marketing of them. What an insane time. Anyway, to tell any stories would take another few blogs or so...but know that “Posh” is my second least favorite Spice Girl. I’m not surprised that she didn’t even make the end cameo in Bend It Like Beckham. It was a celebrity impersonator named Gill Penny. (Poor girl, I hope she gets a real job one day.) Here’s the only picture that I have of me (and about nine other girls from Virgin) with the aforementioned Spice Girls. Oh and we’re all covered in toilet paper because they took a bunch from the women’s bathroom at the restaurant and literally TP’ed the entire place – including people. And to answer your question...my most favorite Spice Girl? Ginger!

Snakes on a Building

2006-08-04T08:15:00.000-07:00

My dentist's office is located right off of Sunset Boulevard. Their offices are beautiful and zen-like with huge windows. They even have a masseusse on duty who massages your feet while you are getting treatment (including bi-annual cleanings). After my cleaning and footrub, I was put into one of the rooms to wait to see the dentist. This particular room looks right out onto an office building on Sunset Boulevard that has giant movie advertisements on the side of the building. Today was a day that they were changing the ads...which means that the image on the left was up, but not the words at the bottom. There were two technicians in the office and the following conversation transpired.

Me: I can't believe that you guys have to look at THAT for the next few weeks!

Technician one: What movie is that?

Me: Snakes on a Plane.

Technician two: It's that World Trade Center movie, isn't it?

Me: Snakes on a Plane.

T2: Are you sure it's not the World Trade Center movie?

Me: No, I'm pretty sure it's Snakes on a Plane.

T1: That's the one with Bruce Willis, right?

Me: No, Samuel L. Jackson.

T2: What's that one about?

Me: There are a bunch of snakes let loose on a plane.

T1: You sure Bruce Willis isn't in that one?

Me: Pretty sure. It's Samuel L. Jackson.

Good thing they're excellent at dental work!

Do You See What I Hear?

2006-07-27T23:33:00.000-07:00

As usual, I was listening to All Things Considered on the way home from work today. They did a story on one of my favorite things - the people who do sign language at concerts.

I think the first time I ever saw this happen was about a million years ago at a James McMurtry concert when I lived just outside of Washington, DC. It was 1989 and James had just released his first album, "Too Long in the Wasteland." At this point, I should mention that yes, James is the son of recent Academy Award winning writer Larry McMurtry. James is quite a writer, too. His songs were/are like short stories, set to music. I can't remember James he was opening for that night in DC, but when he arrived on stage, a stocky, balding man came out with him and stood on an edge of the stage. As James sang, this man's hands fluttered around, trying to keep up with James' words. I was instantly mesmerized. He rocked from heel to toe, keeping time with the music. His body, his arms, his hands all brought the music to life. After the show I asked him how he knew all the words...he said he had never heard them before. He was literally translating them as they were coming out of the speaker. Amazing.

It turns out that with the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act, every venue has to accommodate everyone with disabilities. Most of us have seen wheelchair ramps or special seating for wheelchairs. However, if there is just ONE deaf person in the audience (who has to contact the venue ahead of time), there will be a sign language interpreter at the show.

As my suspicions were confirmed in the story today, there is no great money to be made in this field. I look at it as an art. A great interpreter can let a deaf person "hear" the music. They'll be able to communicate the tempo, the instrumental step-out solos, the intensity of the music and/or lyrics. I've seen interpeters at a lot of concerts - Springsteen, U2...but one of my favorites had to be at the Grand Opening of the Experience Music Project in Seattle. A huge multi-act, multi-day concert took place back in June, 2000. The "industry" section was in the same place as the hearing impaired section. We got our very own interpreters! I was pretty impressed with how they handled the music selection - everyone from Rufus Wainwright to Metallica. The interpreter blew me away with Eminem - "My name is..." He nailed it. When Kid Rock came out with "Bawitdaba, da bang, da dang diggy diggy diggy, said the boogie, said up jump the boogie" the guy was just lost. He bopped up and down to the music, swayed in time to the beat, but held his hands out, palms up in a giant "I have no idea what this guy is saying" way. Every few seconds, he would point to his ear, shrug his shoulder and go back to the palms up position. It cracked me up.

Anyway, needless to say, I have a special place in my heart for the art form, and was glad to hear a story about it on NPR.

If you're interested, check out the story. They also have 30-second clips of two of the interpreters interpreting classic Simon and Garfunkel songs.

Bye bye.

I think I know (all of) you well enough...

2006-07-24T21:53:00.000-07:00

That I can delve into politics for just one teeny post.

There is a proposition called CIEDRA (the Central Idaho Economic and Recreation Act), that, for some reason, is being rushed through Congress. It got strapped onto a bigger and better proposition and is side-carring its way onto passage. This bill should not pass. The very bottom line of this proposition, CIEDRA (HR 3603), is that public lands (that you and I technically own as Americans and taxpayers) will be turned into private lands - in essence, sold to the highest bidder. The "best" (I wish there was a sarcasm font) thing about this, is that we taxpayers get to PAY to have our land taken from us. Wow, maybe they can sacrifice our pets on that land and we can all win-win-win!

Instead of going through the normal channels, CIEDRA is being fast-tracked. Instead of having staffers educate Congresspeople about the measure and getting them to sign on as co-sponsors (of which it takes a 2/3 vote to even send it to the floor), this proposition - with TWO co-sponsors passed through a House Committee less than a week ago and was sent to the floor for a vote today. A whopping total of three representatives signed onto this piece of legislation prior to this political maneuvering through the system. Because of lackluster turnout in the House, the bill passed its second major hurdle today in a quiet "voice vote." I swear, I think there are more attendees at an Ashlee Simpson concert than there were in the House today.

So, enough bitching Leah, what can I do? I'm so glad you asked. Contact your representative by clicking here. Ask them to vote NO on HR 3603. Your voice can and WILL make a difference.

Now you ask - but I don't live in Idaho. What do the Rockies mean to ME? Well, this sets an incredibly dangerous precedent for ALL public land. Today it's the Sawtooth Mountains, tomorrow it's National Land like Yellowstone, Ellis Island, and the Grand Canyon.

If you need more background, go ahead and click here.

Did you like me better when I was uninspired? :)

In Dreams

2006-07-24T08:15:00.000-07:00

OK, this is a bit absurd. I'm now having dreams about blogging, or the lack of blog thereof. In one, I dreamt that I was on the TV show Survivor (which was more like a tamed-down Fear Factor), and the thing that I was more excited about was - "I can blog about this!" And believe me, that's just one. It's pathetic, isn't it?

Guess that means that my subconscious is telling me to get back on the blogwagon.

Maybe I'll start tomorrow...

I love a good impromptu back rub...

2006-07-20T10:13:00.000-07:00

But sometimes it's just the person who chooses to do it...I know I would have the same reaction as German Chancellor Merkel...

Un-Inspiration

2006-07-17T22:22:00.000-07:00

Ever since I returned from The Trip™, I have been uninspired. Maybe it's the reality of being back in reality. Maybe it's the reality of having to pay for The Trip™. Maybe I'm trying to hide from something. Maybe it's just too damned hot in LA for my brain to churn out blogbites. Maybe it's just a hiatus.

Whatever it is...

In the meantime, I did find something this morning that made me laugh out loud (which turned into a coughing fit). I don't mean to offend anyone, but c'mon, just try not to laugh at: http://www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com/. Neither one of my cats look like dictators. Thank god.

Back online

2006-07-08T14:10:00.000-07:00

OK, OK, so apparently my DSL line wasn't the problem at all. It was my freakin' wall-jack, which has been jerry-rigged* since day one. So, my landlord came in and spent about an hour or so rewiring the jack, while I watched Germany defeat Portugal in the 3rd place game. (I guess I feel a bit of camaraderie with Germany, since I was there a week ago. OK, it was only for about three hours, but c'mon!)

So my apologies go out to the phone company. I take back everything (almost everything) that I ever said about you.

Onwards and upwards.

xx

*OK, who knew that the phrase was actually: jury-rig?

July 3rd - the day I lost

2006-07-04T16:46:00.000-07:00

Oh boy. I have never been so sick in my life..at least in recent memory. I started out with a sore throat and cough on Sunday. Monday morning it was a full blown something. Headache, body ache, stuffed nose, runny nose, cough, fever. I drank about 40 gallons of water, in between sleeping on and off for about 24 hours. It was awful.

Today I'm better. I still have a cough and a headache, but feel like I'm gonna live. Thank god.

An entirely different subject - the freaking phone company can't come out until Saturday to look at my DSL line. I am so frustrated. I would swap ISPs in a second if it weren't for a) the bad experience I had with a cable modem and b) I've spent so much time/energy on swapping everything from aol to sbcglobal.net-an email address I can't keep if I change ISPs. I need advice! Help!

I'm Baaaaaaack

2006-07-02T14:08:00.000-07:00

But am severely internetally challenged. In fact, I'm writing this from my BlackBerry, which is my only contact to the outside world-which is why I haven't updated my BallOfDirt site either...

Short version: great effin' trip. I can't believe that I have to be back in reality. And I'm getting my typical "I've been on vacation and it's time to get sick" illness- coughing, sneezing, bleh.

More soon. Hopefully.

Dear Reader(s):

2006-06-18T22:53:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post to let you know that for the next two weeks, I probably won't be blogging here, I'll be blogging here. For no other reason than the fact that I can get the cool little map with distance traveled.

You can now return to your program, already in progress.

Have you ever...

2006-06-14T23:04:00.000-07:00

Had the hiccups at the same time as a coughing fit? Boy, does that suck...

Please pass the bone saw and five Aleve

2006-06-11T18:02:00.000-07:00

I had quite an interesting morning. What started off as a simple IM to my friend Phil (of Square One Dining fame) at about 9:00 AM turned into something quite different. Before I knew it, I was in my little car and on my way to the restaurant to lend a helping hand. Turns out, his Sunday "facilitator" (i.e. Jill of All Trades) called in sick. Me, needing a few extra bucks to pay some bills before The Big Trip™, decided to pitch in. I figure - even though I have never worked in the food service industry, I have hostessed at Tom Bergin's Tavern on St. Patrick's Day, their biggest day of the year. This will be a walk in the park. Or so I thought...

I emerge several hours later, beaten, battered, sore, sweaty, hot - but moreover, with a HUGE appreciation for those in The Industry, which shall now be capitalized. My feet freaking hurt - hence the bone saw - because sawing them off at the ankles would bring me sweet relief right now.

Boo's That Girl

2006-06-10T23:41:00.000-07:00

OK, OK, so I promised that I wasn't a crazy cat lady. But...my little black kitten was so cute and silky today that I just had to get in close for a shot. She doesn't even seem to mind. I like that you can see the itty bitty fleck of orange that is in her left eye.

Faithful reader(s) might wonder - what did I use to take said picture? Well, some cool things have been happening at work lately (in between the not-so-cool things). Turns out that a certain co-worker might have been reading my blog and got a crazy idea to convince the powers-that-be at work to get me a super early birthday present (about three months early) - an AWESOME digital camera! Yay! I can't effing believe it. Still. Although I think Gina might have suggested it in an effort to get me to stop drinking Diet Coke. ;) Whatever the reason, thank you thank you thank you. Did I mention, "Thank you?"

In my never ending struggle to get people off the streets and in front of their TV sets, I need to get back on my soapbox and remind/recommend to people that "The 4400" is returning to USA tomorrow night (Sunday). It's about 4400 people who have been abducted (by aliens) over the last 75 years or so, who are all mysteriously returned to earth in one giant spaceship - each with a special power. They try to return back to their lives - which is much harder than it sounds (and it sounds pretty hard). Oh, and the government is trying to eff with them. Oh and of course there is one wacko who is trying to turn it into a giant celebrity-like religion. OK, I've made it sound much more complicated than it is.

I started watching because my friend (and ex-roommate) Samantha Ferris is on the show. She plays Nina Jarvis, who works for NTAC, the aforementioned governmental agency. Doesn't she look concerned in this photo? It's because she's concerned that you won't watch Sunday's 2-hour Season Premiere! Don't upset the pretty girl, people, she might come to your house and kick your ass in Scrabble. It's been known to happen.

In closing, a note to Matthew - you better sit down. I heard a song on the radio today that I actually kinda liked. It was called "Ballad of a Thin Man" by a guy named Bob something or other...

Blatant Promotion

2006-06-06T23:51:00.000-07:00

Now that I have your attention...

I'd like to let all of my reader(s) know about a TV show that is debuting this THURSDAY at 10PM on NBC (the "ER" slot!). It's called WINDFALL.

Larissa Drekonja and she plays a Russian Mail Order Bride on the show. That's about all I know about that. (Except for looking at Larissa's newly launched website...wow, who could have done that gorgeous thing???)

The show also stars Luke Perry - of 90210 fame. And Jason Gedrick of - I don't know where he comes from, but know that people know his name - fame.

I have not seen the show, but am seriously suggesting that all WATCH!

That is all...for now.....

Leah :)

I Am So Popular!

2006-06-05T22:55:00.000-07:00

My home phone, which never rings, has been ringing off the hook for the last few days. You're never going to believe who is calling ME. Little ole me! Magic Johnson, Sally Field, Jerry Rice, Billy Crystal, Senator Boxer, Mayor Villaragosa and other people I have never heard of! Unfortunately, I wasn't home to get their calls, so I only got their messages. Damn. I had a thing or two to talk to Jerry Rice about...

/sarcasm

I'll be glad when this fucking election is over.

Where's my white flag when I need it?

2006-06-03T15:26:00.000-07:00

OK, I admit defeat in my quest for a digital camera "purchased" completely by bottle tops.

As I was methodically entering codes into the website today, I reached their daily maximum of ten codes. Daily maximum? That's only 30 points per day...times the number of days that are left in the promotion...add to the number of points that I already have...carry the one...and it leaves me wayyyyyy short (by over 1000 points).

So, defeat, I am your bitch. I have accepted it.

I'd like to thank the fine folks at Square One Dining who have been saving bottle caps for me, and are avid readers of this blog. On my visit to the acclaimed establishment today, I saw one of the most perfect picked-from-a-cabbage-patch babies, and had to take a picture.

Oh, and if you're wondering - it was taken with my cell phone camera...I guess that will have to do for now...heavy sigh.

Will Work for Food...Will Drink for Camera?

2006-05-31T23:33:00.000-07:00

Consider this my first abuse of the Blog platform...and a cry for help to all of my reader(s).

I drink a lot of Diet Coke.
I want a digital camera.

Why are those two thoughts so intertwined? Well, I'm glad you asked. The fine folks over at Coca-Cola have a promotion going on - MyCokeRewards. Drink Coke, Input Codes, Get Stuff. It's that easy. Or so I thought.

I really want a digital camera - a nice one. I've been borrowing one from work, and have taken some of my best work of late (where's my damned photo credit??) with my friend Phil's camera. So, in lieu of money (of which I have none), I'm looking for Coke product CODES (from 12-packs, bottles, liters, etc.) I thought I could do it on my own. However, for the last two weeks, I have been entering codes into their website - feeling like a castoff from the Swan Station at the Dharma Initiative. After two weeks, I have a whopping total of 64 points. To get a digital camera, I need 1600 points. That is many many more than 64. Oh, and I need them all by June 12.

This is why I turn to my blog reader(s). If you drink any Coke product that has codes - I want your codes! I know this is a long shot, but figure that it couldn't hurt to ask. Help! If you think you can donate any boxtops, caps, etc., please respond to this blog (via a comment) and I'll take it from there. Thanks. :)

As long as I'm abusing the rules of the blog...

Personal to Matthew: Drive safely. May Highway 61 treat you with kindness. Enjoy the East Coast (again). And know that you will be terribly missed. I'm not losing a blog-reader, I'm gaining one in Rhode Island. And for anyone who wants to learn from Matthew's mistakes, you can read this.

Square One in the LA Times...AGAIN!

2006-05-31T08:40:00.000-07:00

Finally, Chef Hayden Ramsey gets her moment in the sun (or newsprint, as it were).

Get the recipe for her "terrific coffeecake, one that impressed Times restaurant critic S. Irene Virbila with its fluffy crumb and buttery, lush flavor" here.

:)

Sincerely Yours, The Breakfast Club

2006-05-28T22:38:00.000-07:00

R.I.P. Principal Vernon (Paul Gleason)

Richard "Dick" Vernon:
These kids turned on me...they think I'm a big fuckin' joke...

Carl the Janitor:
Come on...listen Vern, if you were sixteen, what would you think of you, huh?

Vernon:
Hey...Carl, you think I give one rat's ass what these kids think of me?

Carl:
Yes I do...

Vernon:
You think about this...when you get old, these kids; when I get old, they're gonna be runnin' the country.

Carl:
Yeah?

Vernon:
Now this is the thought that wakes me up in the middle of the night...That when I get older, these kids are gonna take care of me...

Carl:
I wouldn't count on it!

Is this thing on?

2006-05-28T08:09:00.000-07:00

Apologies go out to my many fan(s) who check in to my blog expecting to read whatever crap happens to fall from my fingertips...

My DSL line at home has been out since Monday and it mysteriously came back in full force today (after about 87 calls to the phone company - who said they couldn't fix the line until Monday - a HOLIDAY).

So I promise. Drivel soon.

Two funny men

2006-05-20T14:31:00.000-07:00

Pinch me I'm dreaming. My Irish boyfriend, Denis Leary, appeared on my Jewish boyfriend's TV show - The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

Denis also pimped Greg Dulli's band, The Twilight Singers.

It was great television, but you don't have to take my word for it, you can watch it yourself.

Now That's What I Call (Reality) TV!

2006-05-18T22:22:00.000-07:00

Wow. Yesterday is the kind of television day that I just dream about (read as: potential nightmare). First of all, I need to tell you that Wednesdays SUCK. There are about 900 hours of TV that I need to find a way to cram into a reasonable hour that doesn't have me staying up all night. Thank god for the TiVo and the TiFaux. I can literally capture three programs that all start at eight PM. What the heck would I do without technology? I shudder to think.

Let me start off by saying that the week wasn't boding well. After seeing Terry eliminated from the Final Three on Survivor...I thought that all was wrong in this world. Terry was THE ultimate survivor. Not only did he win about a million immunity challenges in a row - he managed to find the "hidden immunity idol" after being on Exile Island for about 34 seconds. Dominant, competitive, honest, and quite frankly, handsome and bearing salt and pepper hair. That's all I need in a Survivor million dollar winner. Anyway, Terry was sooooo wrongly voted off (don't even get me started on how little Danielle deserved to be F2), I thought that the week was going to suck.

And then came Wednesday. So...at eight, I decide to watch The Amazing Race. It's between Ray & Yolanda, The Frat Boys, and BJ & Tyler, who I wrote about/fawned over in a previous blog entry. I figured that there was a 66% chance I wouldn't be angry. I hate those damned frat boys, for about a hundred reasons, but laughed every time the "hippies" said "Damn you, frat boyssssssss!" So to quote Television Without Pity, blah blah blah, BJ and Tyler win (sans ick). They were just positive, awesome and happy and full of smiles and just a joy to watch. I'm just thrilled that after last week's awful, yukky, bleh, vomitous Fast Forward (they each had to eat a bowl of fried crickets - see picture), the boys made it to the front of the pack. They were also so unbelievably looked down upon for being "hippies" that I absolutely LOVE (with all capital letters) the fact that the last road block came down to INTELLIGENCE (more capital letters). I am sure that the frat boys didn't think that the hippies were smart enough to find and arrange all of the flags in order of the countries that they visited. On top of the fact that the previous leg took place in Japan - and Tyler speaks nearly fluent Japanese. Damn you frat boys....NOT! Yay, tonight is looking UP!

Next on my list: Lost. It's not reality TV, so it will not be addressed in this blog. (Although that Sawyer is too damned hot for his or MY own good.)

I go to Top Chef on Bravo. It's down to the Final Three. Dave, Tiffany and Harold. It's part one of a two-part finale in Las Vegas. Dave is first to arrive in Vegas, then Harold. They wish that it was just the two of them. As do I. Eventually, the beeyotch Tiffany shows up. That's right, I won't link to her. She doesn't deserve my link. Next day, they are told that they have to create dishes for several different "room service" customers. The "High Rollers" turn out to be three former contestants on the show; the Poker table is actually full of 'famous' poker players, and the final group is the troupe from Cirque du Soleils' Ka show (which was the most surreal experience of the night - with their makeup and costumes). Ultimately, Harold won one, Dave nearly won two (if he could count) and Tiffany won ZERO. Illogically, Dave is sent back home - although I can understand why his neurotic, unfocused and flustered ways can't possibly make him a top chef. In reality, all I care about is that my TV boyfriend Harold, is still in the running.

At this point, I figure that I'm two for two. BJ/Tyler with TAR and Harold at TC. It's 11:30 and I decide to go for it. Pllllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeease tell me that Jade is not America's Next Top Model. She is a know-it-all bitch, and that's just the tip of her iceberg. Thank god Jade had to have a major "releasement" of her contestantship. Which ultimately leads to two of the sweetest (seemingly) girls vying for the Number One position. Ultimately, I'm fine with Danielle winning it all. As long as it's not Jade. Yuck, yuck and treble yuck.

Here's Danielle being, well, Top Model-ly gorgeous.

So, all in all, a great night. Those that I wanted to win, won. Those that I didn't want to win, lost.

And somewhere along the road tonight, a little Fox tells me that Paula Abdul cried her eyes out because of a funky white boy who is 90% deaf in one ear is going home. Give me a freakin' break.

Used to Sell His Soul for Rock and Roll...

2006-05-17T00:04:00.000-07:00

If I didn't know any better, I would think that my friend Phil might have sold his soul to the devil. In the best possible way of course. :)

As of this morning, Square One Dining (and Phil) is/are the "poster boy" of the Los Angeles CitySearch Restaurant website. If that wasn't enough, the NEW YORK TIMES was in last week filming a segment for their website. On top of that, Los Angeles magazine called. There was a piece in Variety last week...the New York Post a couple of weeks ago. I tell ya, someone is looking out for them...

I'm just proud to know them!

own2hands

"Do You Blog?"

What Color Do I Feel?

To Blog, Perchance to Dream

I'm in a New York State of Mind

Right to a Slice

Welcome to the Doll House

TSA, Tsk, Tsk

Is This Thing On?

Boo Has Returned!!!

So *that* happened.

Big Winner!

Organization by Osmosis

I Should Be Able to do This

Holiday Spirit, Wherefore Art Thou?

Busy, busy, busy

Funny story!

Time Flies...This Acid World

The Reason Why Resolutions Should Not Be Kept

Whatever, dude.

An actual letter from my actual mom

"We have so much time and so little to do"

"He was drunk and exhausted but he was critically acclaimed and respected."

I Am Old Woman, Hear Me Roar

Dead Skunk (In the Middle of Fairfax)

Ten Years After

"Time takes care of the wound, so I can believe."

I Work, Therefore I Don’t Blog

So How Does it End?

Chinese Audio Torture vs. The Sound of Silence

The Finger

Tabula Rasa

Insert Blog Here

The Hills are on Fire

How did I get to be so "lucky"?

Half-Birthday

Well, that's not something you see every day...

The Final Countdown!

I bet if YOU had a blog...

40 seconds of my 15 minutes of fame

Spent a Week in NYC Last Week

You Aught-a Know

Thank You, India

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Resolve

'Tis the Post-Season

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Me

What did you call me??

I'm Leavin' on a Jet Plane...

Rumsfeld quits, Democrats sweep election

Are You Gonna Be My...iPod Battery?

H Squared

Really?

Trick or Treat??

Front Row. Fashion Show. Way to Go.

One Succulent Breast, One Delicious Waffle

A Traffic Lesson

All Hail Columbus!

The Day the Music (retailer) Died...

Behold the Termite!

No. No. No. No. NO!

The Princess' Reign Continues!

Having a Blog Has Finally Paid Off!

Really?

Well, That's Not What You Want to Hear...

Mine...Mine...ALL MINE...

My Late-Night Choice

Digital Inspiration

September When It Comes

A Few Things on My Mind

A Winning Dress!

I Heart "On Demand"

Confessions of an Un-Pretty Girl

Mystery Solved!

Matt Du Jour

Matthew Meltzer, where are you???????

When a Song is actually a Movie

It's a Crazy Spice World We Live In

Snakes on a Building

Do You See What I Hear?

So that happened.