Okay, Stop.

No really. STOP.

Get out. This is the cutest thing I have ever seen. It had me laughing out loud in my office.

As you readers probably all know by now, I have the most adorable twin nieces and baby nephew. I know that's a bold statement, but it's oh so true. Please take a moment to absorb the wonder that is my nieces' Halloween costumes. I couldn't dream of not sharing such a visual.

(For all the stress involved with having three kids, two of which are twins, at least my sister has fun with it.)

Darjeeling Limited movie review

No real spoilers here, however if you want to be completely surprised by the movie, I'd wait to read this. Sometimes I don't like to hear people's reviews until after I've seen the movie myself...

I saw Darjeeling Limited on Saturday. I adore Wes Anderson movies and this one was no exception; I obviously loved it. I am always amazed at the care he takes in seemingly every single shot. The composition - the objects, placement, angles - is intricately deliberate. He must not only be extremely meticulous, but also have a very specific vision of each piece of visual stimuli that his viewers experience. I can't imagine that he wings anything when filming, however I'm sure it's the case that he's an artistic genius and every now and then he does improvise. The colors were amazingly vibrant and the whole thing was a visual masterpiece as far as I'm concerned.

As for the characters...

I absolutely love that Anderson uses a varying line-up of recurring actors in his movies, specifically because the actors he has chosen are so fantastic. As you can gather from the trailer, the three main characters are brothers. Before seeing the movie I thought it was kind of funny in an odd way that he chose three people who couldn't be any more clearly NOT brothers... Owen Wilson with the blond hair, Adrienne Brody with his tall and slender physique, Jason Schwartzman being short and stouter in comparison, and none have similar facial features. But I quickly got over that and realized that they were perfectly cast for the characters they are portraying. Beyond the main characters you get some fun surprise familiarity with other characters, but I won't spoil it by saying who.

As for the story line...

I don't really hate to say it, but the plot was a little light-weight. I don't hate to say it because I still loved the movie anyway. But truth be told, it lacked the involvement that Anderson's movies usually have (sort of the way Bottle Rocket lacked activity, for lack of a better word). After I left the movie and was thinking about it, there was only a couple of those stirring turns in direction that his movies usually express, and even those were subtle. The one truly pivotal & defining scene in the movie was quite reminiscent of the Kingsley/helicopter scene in Life Aquatic and the Richie/suicide attempt in Royal Tenenbaums, so I guess you could just say that the one action packed scene felt very familiar.

But that one criticism aside, when asked what I think of the movie, I intend to respond, "beautifully fantastic." The dialogue and visuals really made it a pleasure to watch.

Life in the fast lane...

...is actually not that racy at all due to all the damn traffic in L.A.

Hi folks, how are you today?

This 'fast lane' I speak of is really just a metaphor for the Hollywood lifestyle and celebrity happenings. Oh wait, I think you already knew that. Regardless...

I work in Public Relations. Entertainment PR. It has it's ups and downs, as does any job. Given the nature of my job, and being that I live in LA (AND that we handle high-profile DVD releases), one of the 'ups' of my job is that I get to work the red carpet for big events and release parties, thus rubbing shoulders with some of Hollywood's finest. Now, I don't fully understand the pattern of my behaviour (ya, I put a 'u' in there) when it comes to being in the presence of celebrities. Sometimes I get really star struck to be working an event with some obscure actor that few people know of, but whom I really like (for example: Jay Chandrashekhar. It was quite exciting, actually; I went up and introduced myself to him and told him what a fan I am, how great Broken Lizard is, etc... had to be there maybe). Other times, I'll be standing next to George Clooney in line at a local eatery and treat the situation like he's just some Joe Schmo. But whatever the situation, on thing is for sure: I always like to name drop.

So, the "Hollywood's finest" representative I will be meeting and working with on Monday is Richard Gere. And also, maybe Marcia Gay Harden. Our event is in honor of the DVD release of the movie The Hoax and also the 11th Annual Hollywood Awards Gala Ceremony.

Generally speaking, when it comes to events that host big names, I will pitch the story to the major local news media and various cable networks, while my bosses spearhead the cash cows, very specifically: Access Hollywood, Entertainment Tonight, and Extra. Well, for whatever reason (I did not press them for the answer) my bosses can't work Monday's big event so they handed the responsibility over to me. They did all the coordinating, but now I am to act as the liaison between Extra and Richard Gere. He is receiving a special award at a tea party (no, I'm serious) before the red carpet and main awards ceremony, and I must at some point during this tea, make an interview with Extra happen.

It's fun and exciting to be responsible for something that my industry regards as such a major placement (even if it's not representative of my own personal values). But there's one thing that I just can't seem to get a grasp when it comes to these major events and media placements... I wonder why, after the weeks of endless preparation, the day of the event arrives and we are always still scrambling to make something happen that should be as effortless as a phone call or email and subsequent schedule pencil-in. It's a five minute interview. How come the publicists can't just say, "Okay, we'll plan on Richard being ready at 5pm for this brief interview." They already agreed to the interview, and he's already going to be present at the tea from 4-6pm. So why do they have to be so non-committal about a time. It just seems that everyone's schedule would flow so much more easily if the talent - pardon me - the talents' handlers could just meet us 1/8 of the way, by giving a verbal time agreement. All he's going to be doing is sitting at his table, sipping some tea anyway.

Ha. I had intended for this entry to be of bragging nature, not ranting nature, but such is my train of over-thought I suppose.

Anyway, I really hope I don't botch this up. Everything should go smoothly, but it's often the case that we'll plan something a week in advance, speak very explicitly about the plan with whoever's manager, and then we show up and not a single word would have been relayed to the main player of the plan. It's ridiculous. I get it, they're busy people. But doesn't that just mean that the managers and publicists should be the type of people who can adeptly handle busyness? And shouldn't the reporters, who deal with perpetually tentative schedules, be a little expectant of slight delays or changes in plan when they arrive places? It's like everyone arrives and is stressed out, and the person in my position becomes the bitch who is forced to be on the receiving end of all this stress.

Honestly, I just turned an 'up' of my job into a 'down'.

Now that you've witnessed the progression of me going from little miss big shot to thoroughly stressing myself out, wish me luck! In all reality, it will still be fun and exciting. It's just the preparation that is a bit painstaking. I'll fill you in on how it all goes after Monday.

Have a fantastic weekend!!

Midnight Outings

So I got in a bit of a tiff last night at my local watering hole. Probably not the best judgment on my part, mostly because it occurred with a long time resident drinker, so chances are I will run into him again. And so the story goes…

Because my good friend from college, Megan, is in town, she, Emily, and I went out to a couple bars. Going out on week nights is actually a rare occurrence for me these days (these days meaning in the past six months to a year), but I made the exception for our visitor. First we went to Barney’s Beanery because Emily wanted to play pool. I'm not too fond of the college scene that is characteristic of Barney's but we just don't know of any other fun pool halls in the Hollywood area that actually offer more than one table - so if you readers know of any, I beg of you, PLEASE COMMENT!!

After having our fill there, we headed back to our neighborhood to hit one of our more frequented bars, and the closest bar to our apartment, Three of Clubs. Megan and I went to the bathroom, immediately after which she left to go meet up with some other friends. I come back to the bar stool where Emily is sitting, only to find her hunched over the bar, fading fast from consciousness. I then see a group of four just-under-forty-something guys standing around her. One shorter, dark haired fellow is leaning over Emily talking to her, though she looks to be unaware of it. To me, it appears as though he is attempting to take advantage of my decision impaired friend. So I begin to shoo him away with comments along the lines of, “she doesn’t want to talk to you”, “leave us alone”, and, “we have boyfriends so get outta here,” among others. Sure, I ran my mouth a bit – because you know, I get feisty – leaving him struggling to get in his own phrases like, “are you done yet?”

Well our Good Samaritan friend gets very offended and explains that he was only trying to see if my friend was okay, since she didn’t look to be in the best of shape. I utter a bashful, “oh…” I apologize and explain that in a scenario like this one, it is often the case that the man in his position is some over-aggressive walking penis who wants to exploit our drunken state. Then something strange happened. After hearing my apology, explanation, and then follow-up apology, Good Samaritan gets even more heated. He starts berating me for my indignation. I say, “listen man, I apologized. I swallowed my pride, told you you were right and I was wrong… I put myself in place. I was being light-hearted in my feistiness, not hateful. I’m sorry. Can’t you at least chalk it up to being an entertaining exchange?”

No. No he couldn’t. His rant continued with a lecture about how he’s been coming to this bar for fifteen years and how disgusted he is with the evolving clientele, who apparently waltz into HIS local spot and take over the place with their drunken antics. I’m thinking to myself, ‘it’s midnight at a dimly red-lit dive bar in Hollywood and this guy is complaining that he’s surrounded by drunk young people… what did he expect when he walked in here, an orchestra?’ I tell him that I’m not just another wet behind the ears Hollywood newbie; I grew up down the street and have been coming here for 10 years, since I was 14 and they let me pass with my 24 year-old sister’s ID, even though she was such a regular there that they knew her by name. This only angered him more.

His friend standing closest to us finally chimes in, saying to Grumpy, “what’s the problem? She said she was in the wrong and apologized. Why are you still talking about it?” I exclaim, “thank you! Thank you very much. Let me shake your hand. What’s your name?” He tells me his name, and then I turn to the other two on-looking friends to gather their names. They look a little clueless as to what is going on and state that it’s too loud to even hear what we’ve been talking about this whole time. As we introduce ourselves, Sour Puss says, “what’s the difference? It’s not like she’s even going to remember any of your names in the morning.” “Ha!” I gloat, “joke’s on you – I don’t even remember your names right now!” And immediately realized that such a statement actually does not help my case. (I in fact remembered one name at the time. Rick.)

Then a very useful piece of information surfaces. Jerk Face mutters something about just wanting to have a good time at his local spot on his birthday. Ah yes, it’s all coming together now. He’s upset about getting older (perhaps he was celebrating the 40 year milestone), the infestation of drunk whippersnappers at the bar he’s been a veteran at for 20 years (yes, at this point we are up to 20) and most likely also that he is sans lady friend and just got three snaps in a Z formation from some cute young feisty girl. Even though, mind you, I was polite and apologetic and wished him a happy birthday.

We left the scene and I just kept thinking about how I should have said something like, “don’t take it out on me because this bar is retaining a young clientele and evolving but you clearly are not, since you are still frequenting the same bar as when you were 18, back when that was the legal drinking age.” But I guess I wasn’t quick enough on my toes.

At least I won’t feel awkward the next time I go there since obviously all faces with wrinkles look the same to me.

I wish my baby had deep pockets, so we could run around, spending all her money, and painting up the town.

Warning: this post is just a long play-by-play of my vacation weekend. May cause disinterest or confusion.

What a wonderfully fantastic weekend. On Thursday evening Josh and I boarded a plane together for the first time, headed to one of my favorite places: Colorado. I have intensely missed Colorado since I moved back to Los Angeles over a year and a half ago. Luckily, I still have several close friends who have either remained in Boulder or moved to Denver or Frisco. Earlier this past summer, my group of 6 sistas from college had a four day reunion weekend, in honor of Megan & Emily's birthdays. It was then that I vowed to return to Colorado once a year to visit my college town or spend some time in the mountains... "going home" I call it, since I grew far fonder of that environment and way of life during the 4+ years I lived there, than I am now of LA.

Well, this year I got lucky and made it back to Colorful Colorado for a second time within 4 months (I can't believe my girls' reunion was almost four months ago! Oh how time flies). The occasion - as if I need one - was The Great American Beer Festival. Now, I love beer. And I'm not saying that as a drunk. I'm saying it as a person who loves the taste, variety, and process, and as the girlfriend of a man who brews his own beer. So as I was saying, I love beer, and I love Colorado. However, I attended the festival in 2005 when I still lived there, and I don't know that I would have made the trek back to CO (mostly due to cost) solely for the festival and if I didn't have Josh eagerly chomping at the bit to keep a tally of all the new beers he could be trying. So we went for it.

Kelly picked us up from the airport at 11pm, after a long day of nannying that started at 8am. Needless to say, she was a bit too exhausted to hit the town. Instead she offered to drop us off downtown (Pearl Street) so I could show Josh some of my old stomping grounds. I was the one driving home from the airport, in fear that Kelly might fall asleep at the wheel, and it required no thought to decide where I should drop us off: The Mountain Sun. I've blogged about The Mountain Sun before and anyone who knows me from Boulder knows about my obsession with this pub and brewery (like I said, I love beer). In fact, I've talked about this place so much that, aside from the beer festival, this was what Josh was most excited to visit. He commented on how it's interesting that after hearing about it so much, he had a very particular rendering of what it should look like in his mind, though it turned out to be very different from what he had pictured.

So Thursday night was pretty mellow. After the Mountain Sun we met up with Jeff, who now lives with Kelly, and hit my favorite bar, The Pearl Street Pub & Cellar (aka "The Pub"), and then The Sundown Saloon ("The Downer"). Friday was really the best day. It was beautiful out - luckily, because it was rainy and cold Saturday and Sunday. So Josh and I borrowed Kelly's sweet ride, the Red Dragon X675 scooter, and I gave him a tour of Boulder. For lunch I showed him the deliciousness that is The Smelly Deli. Based on its nickname, one can gather that people's opinion of this eatery is not positive across the board. But man do they make a fantastic gyro. We walked all throughout campus and I showed him the Anthropology building (because coincidentally enough, he was an Anth major in college also) and old framed pictures of the campus around the turn of the century (obviously, not the most recent turn). Then we headed to Chautauqua Park, where we went on a walk-hike and found a shady lookout area to lay around in (I know, you're throwing up a little in your mouth right now). But wait! That's not all.... we then went to the Boulder Creek for a peaceful stroll, before it got too cold and we had to head to Happy Hour to meet some friends.

Just a note: I really wanted to have amazing pictures to show form this trip, from my new low-mileage camera, but, well... I'm a dumbass and kept forgetting to bring it with me. I can't tell you how many picturesque settings I wanted to capture of our day in real nature - sometimes I forget what it looks like, living here in LA. But twenty minutes into each walk or hike I realized that I left it in the scooter. And at night, well at night I apparently forgot that I even owned a nice new camera and that it was just an arm's length away, in my purse. Boo. I got about 6 pictures from the beer fest, and they're basically multiples of the same thing. :( Hopefully soon I'll get used to being the proud owner of this mystical device called "digital camera".

Friday night we got Happy Hour at Centro, where Jeff works. Can't beat $2 rum & cokes and delicious fresh discounted tacos. Our dinner destination was Hapa, where Kelly clued me into Momokawa Pearl Sake, which is by far the best sake I have ever tried. We ran into an old friend, Courtney, who works at Hapa and we caught up for a bit. From there, we met up with Jon and Scott at The Pub. I was very pleased that they not only made the trek from Denver to hang out with me in Boulder even though they knew I would see them the next night, not only did they actually take the bus to get there, but I only had to apply a minor amount of pressure to get them to come into town. I was expecting to have to beg, plead, threaten, and then guilt trip them into it, but no. Fancy that - made my night! So Friday night's sequence was actually a lot like Thursday's... after Josh and I kicked Jon and Scott's asses in pool and then cleaned up the blood soaked floor with the rags of their pride, we headed to The Downer, where I really think Jon and Josh bonded; you know you can breathe a sigh of relief when your boyfriend goes to the bathroom and your best guy friends use that time to give the thumbs-up seal of approval to "the BF" (were Jon's exact words). Lastly, we hit up The Attic, for the latest last call in town.

Saturday was basically a day of preparation for the beer festival. Josh and I had a great time, as was to be expected. We probably tried around a hundred beers (yeah, I did the math). Given the number of brewers that presented, I easily could have spent those hundred 1oz shots on beers I've never tried. But ya know what? I just love Colorado's micro brews so much that I had to survey all those old favorites that I can't get around here. But I wouldn't call that a waste by any means. One thing the brewers do at The Great American Beer Festival is try to get attendees to sport namesake fake tattoos. The reps ask the girls if they can apply tatts to their chests or upper butts. Although a brewery tattoo applied to the chest by an overweight middle aged guy named Budd wreaks of class, I decided to forgo that offer. Instead, I warmed up to an upper arm application. I'm still sporting flaky remnants of my Newport Beach Brewing Company tattoo, which I made the exception for since they have a beer called "Balboa Brown" and that's where my dad lives (plus all their beers were really yummy). My second fake tattoo was a sneak attack from one of my all time favorite breweries, Boulder Beer Company. I was just standing there enjoying some Planet Porter when I felt a smack on my shoulder and a stream of cool liquid trickling down my arm. I was completely taken off guard but the tatt had been sealed before I even had a chance to react.

After the festival ended Josh and I met up with Scott and Jon who were watching their two home teams, The Indians and The Red Sox respectively, duke it out. I have absolutely no recollection of who won. After attempting to play pool and failing miserably, the four of us then proceeded to bar hop around Denver. The bars we went to were surprisingly empty - strange for a Saturday night I would think. I must say that I most enjoyed the semi-wet and cold adventures that occurred en route to each bar on the streets of Denver. Thanks for good times, fellas.

Sunday we had high hopes for going to a museum, but when that rainy morning arrived all we could think of was getting some greasy grub in our bellies and vegging out on Kelly's couch back in Boulder, before our evening flight (which we almost missed and ended up sprinting through DIA "Home Alone" style to catch the slowly closing doors). Now Josh is completely in love with Colorado and keeps suggesting a move to either Denver or Boulder. Although I love it there too, if I am moving to another state, I kind of want to move t somewhere I haven't lived before. Discussion of Portland has taken place, but who know what will happen.

Alright, there's my LONG recap of my weekend trip to Colorado. In light of the gloom outside, I hope you're having a warm and cozy day!

...and I will be satisfied not to read in-between the lines.

I was taking one of those silly personality quizzes a minute ago and was asked the question, "If your friends had to describe you with one word it would be: Loyal, Witty, Outdoorsy, Daring, Fun". I asked five different friends for their opinion on the matter. I think it's both very amusing and interesting that just about every single person said something different:

Emily: Witty
Josh: Fun (although I had to harass him to give a single answer because he thought it was a trick question and stuck by his initial response of, "I think you're ALL those things.")
Karen: Loyal
Rob: Daring
Katie: "either Fun, Witty, or Loyal"

Outdoorsy was the only that didn't get chosen, even though I do consider myself an Outdoorsy person (I suppose I'm not as characteristically 'outdoorsy' as I am those other things).

Anyway, I think it's interesting that each of my friends perceives me in a different light. Do I present myself differently to each of them? Do they perceive me a certain way based on their own individual personalities? I'm guessing it's a combination, that based on my different friends' personalities, I let different aspects of my own personality shine through.

I guess it wasn't really a "silly quiz" after all.

Age ain't nothin' but a number

Now that I'm 24 years old, the world seems so much different. When Monday rolled around, people immediately started calling me "ma'am" and asking for my advice on their difficult life predicaments. My landlord asked me if I was in the market to buy real estate. My dad attempted to casually ask me when I plan on settling down and giving him some more grandchildren. Being an adult is weird!

But actually, I want to know what "adult" means. Dictionary.com first defines it as, "having attained full size and strength; grown up; mature" - but I'm pretty sure I haven't attained full size yet (unfortunately) or strength (recently started working out); 'grown up'... hmm, I'll have to do a separate search for that term; mature... well isn't that relative? In fact, I think the whole notion of adulthood is pretty relative and subjective. Of course, I'm not going to argue that the 45 year-old who was smashing mailboxes with the local high school kids just a couple weeks ago still has yet to reach adulthood (he's an adult whether he's ready to admit it or not). However, I think there's about a 20 year span of room for interpretation based on one's experiences. For example, some 15 year-olds are thrust into adulthood out of need to provide for others. For some, the feeling of being an adult might not come until 35. I think a common thread, though, in being considered an adult is the necessity to provide for others. Having kids is definitely the most determining factor of adulthood. And for those who don't (want to) have kids? The determining factors probably include ownership of property, reaching a certain tax bracket, or marriage.

I DO know that I still feel just as much like a kid now as I ever have. It has it's pluses and minuses obviously. And I'm still realistic about it; I actually have a career (which still feels strange to say). But part of me wonders when that morning will come that I wake up and think, "so this is what it feels like to be an adult." Okay, so I'm pretty sure that's not how it happens, but hopefully you get my point. I feel as if I've been in a state of limbo for the past couple years now and me thinks it's time to raise the bar for my standards... I want adult standards for my youthful lifestyle. I want "things" that are new and nice - my things are old and tattered and break all the time, because as a kid, that's all I could afford. I want to be able to thrive on only 6 hours of sleep, like I witness in all adults - I am incapable of waking up before 8am and as a result it seems like I wake up, go to work, come home from work, eat, and then go right back to sleep... so my need for 8+ hours of sleep leaves me with few non-work waking hours. I guess I want to be capable of juggling more activities and responsibility, without becoming a rigid bore (just kidding, to any 'adults' reading this). I know it's possible, I just don't know how to make that transition.

Enough about my almost quarter life crisis. For my Golden Birthday this year, this is what I did: LCD Soundsystem & Arcade Fire concert on Thursday night, Josh & Karen threw me a surprise party on Friday night(!!!), Saturday went out to brunch and dinner with a bunch of friends, Sunday I went to Lauren's grandfather's funeral :( but hers is like my second family so it was good to see them, Monday I took the day off work and Josh forgot it was my actual birthday (we can joke about it now, right??) but then he felt so bad that he took the afternoon off work to bring me the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers (flowers make up for anything!), I went shopping, got a Thai massage (ouch! and most likely never again), and then went out for some delicious Yang Chow Chinese food with my family, and finally, on Tuesday, Katie took me out for my favorite sushi dinner.

That's it. I'm getting old. Maybe soon I'll start acting like it.

Thanks for tuning in.

Oh well oh well oh well!!!

Well, tonight is my would be White Stripes concert *tear*. Gosh, now I feel silly; I'm commiserating a cancelled concert as if it's the one year anniversary of my dog's death. Anyway, what am I complaining about? I get to go see Arcade Fire tomorrow night, and Cat Power the next night! I still have so much exciting activity, in fact, that I'm worried about whether or not I'll be able to push through all of it (since I've always got to be worried about something). We have an international press junket taking place over the next two days and wouldn't you know it, I got the unfortunate job of morning media handler - meaning I have to be at the international guests' hotel in Santa Monica (and I live in Hollywood, mind you) at 7am tomorrow, and 6:30am on Friday. Yikes - that's waaay before my usual wake up time. Living 5 minutes from work allows me the luxury of rolling out of bed at 8:25, in order to make it to work by 9am (yeah, you read correctly, and that's including a shower - I'm low maintenance).

So the weekend (assuming it starts tomorrow) will be great fun, and I'll probably sleep through most of Saturday as a result. Then, Monday, I am taking the day off for my birthday. I used to do that in college so I could go enjoy the beauty of being outdoors with my less financially burdened and dually unemployed friends. Making that call this year, however, was a little more difficult since now we are ALL financially burdened and work conventional day jobs. So whereas in the past I took that day off so I could be more social (read: get more birthday greetings), this year I'm taking the day off to exist in solitude. But when the time came to turn in my "time off" request form I was quite certain that I'd be perfectly happy spending the day all by my lonesome... enjoying a massage, going on a hike, maybe hitting up The Grove for some from me, for me presents. Yes indeed, it will be a good day.

Josh and I would be doing a fancy b-day dinner on Monday, however a particular gift option has come to his mind, which conflicts with any other form of extravagant spending... instead of a fancy dinner (and since he needs to figure out a main attraction gift for me since The White Stripes fell through) he suggested that he put the money he would have spent on my b-day towards... a new... iPhone. Yep, livin' the dream, L-I-V-I-N!! Truth is, however, I haven't decided if that's what I want to do. You see, I'm the type on person who sort of despises her cell phone. Ask my friends and you'll find that I often don't answer it or even carry it on me for that matter; I treat it as a nuisance, a form of restriction and excessive obligation that I just don't need... I don't owe no one no darn explanation of my whereabouts! (unless of course there are extenuating circumstances, which there are about 65% of the time.) So this makes me wonder if the privilege of owning an iPhone would just be wasted on me. Of course, my current phone is one that I bought "refurbished", dates back to about 2000, and is so primitive in its graphics that, well, it has none - its dichromatic color scheme offers a dull green backlight and inanimate black stick figure images, suggestive of an inverted MS-DOS screen. So naturally, I'm not going to be chomping at the bit to flip it open and see what cool stuff is going on in my limited world of communication - rest assured, there's nothing cool going on. But even beyond that... well I'll go ahead and say it: nobody calls me!! Karen will take right to being my only chronic texter, but aside from her, Emily (who I live with anyway), and Josh (who I practically live with anyway), I wonder if my dazzling little iBuddy will get lonely. Eh, fuck it, I'll probably get it anyway.

And then on Tuesday my lovely and dear friend Katie will be treating me to the finest of dinners at our favorite sushi joint. I dare not say the name of my truly authentic little gem, since it's getting progressively busier and busier - god knows I want to keep it freed up for myself!

So there are my anticipated birthday festivities. Maybe I'll enlist friends for a more comprehensive dinner on Saturday night. T'would be a shame if not everyone was given the opportunity to offer me well wishes. (oh no she di'in't!!)

I've realized in writing this entry that I use a lot of dashes - and improperly at that! (I stand by my declaration that semicolons are pretentious).

I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

I don't think words exist that will sufficiently express my disappointment over the fact that The White Stripes cancelled their tour for the rest of the year, which includes next week's September 19 concert that I've been looking forward to (read: thinking about multiple times a day) for months now. Not only that, but it is my birthday week and those tickets were Josh's birthday present for me (now he's probably scrambling to think of something else to give me). And I've never been to a concert of theirs before. And they're just about all I've really consistently listened to for the past two years - in fact, my car CD player has been on White Stripes disc rotation for several months now, with the occasional day long break for another CD, which I immediately get tired of and then hurriedly scurry back to the heroine that is The White Stripes music. With every song I love (almost all of them) I've been thinking to myself, "OH! I hope they play that when I see them... OH! No, wait! I want them to play that one more!" Etc.

Many, many tears.

HOWEVER!!!

(section added Thursday)
TONIGHT, Josh and I are going to a live taping of E! Network's "The Soup" - a show which I absolutely adore, so I'm truly, very excited about that!! Apparently the show doesn't have a real live audience. If you watch, you'll notice that the background laughter and feedback sounds as if it is coming from a group of about ten people. Well... it is. The "audience" consists of the show's producers, crew, and such. It just so happens that E! Entertainment is one of Josh's clients and he's tight with their HR guy, so voile! We got hooked up with the intimate experience that is being part of "The Soup" audience. Do you think Joel McHale will make eye contact with me? A girl can only dream...

Vegas, Baby!

Through an unexpected turn of events, I found myself in Las Vegas this past weekend. On Friday night, while sitting on our couches watching TV and trying to gain motivation to go spend too much money at some bar we kind of like, Emily casually asked, "hey, you want to go to Vegas this weekend?"

"Wellllll. I'm not really in the financial position to go to Vegas."

"We'll have a free hotel room..."

"Count me in!"

So, in the spirit of sin, we determined what time we'd leave, what risque outfits we would pack (which, aside from showing a little extra leg sass, weren't very risque at all), and just how late we'd be able to stay out that night in order to wake up early enough to hit the road (though of course we did not abide by our own guidelines and didn't actually leave LA until 2pm).

Naturally, Vegas was an exciting weekend getaway. All in all - and not counting what I spent on drinks - I only lost $10 from gambling, though I got two free drinks while playing, so I'd say I hedged my bets well. Emily wasn't so keen on losing $70 at the Roulette table - which by the way, I had never played before and is my new favorite Vegas game. Heda, lucky girl, was the big winner of this trip, being that she had a 50 Cent sighting in the hallways of The Hard Rock and she won $130 at the Roulette table! I was really hoping I'd be so lucky and my trip would end up paying for itself, but alas...

Probably to be considered one of Saturday night's highlights (and I hope this doesn't make our night sound really lame, but I'm sure it will... even though it wasn't) was a poor sap who was too drunk to realize what a - pardon my french - duechebag he sounded like in trying to pick up on each and every girl in our group. He introduced himself to us all, individually, like this: "I'm so-and-so, I own Sharkey's restaurant, I'm sure you know of Sharkey's, I have a ticket to the VMAs tomorrow night, Are you going to come with me?" says the 25 year old, all in one sentence, I kid you not. We didn't feel so bad laughing at the situation, given that he was such a - as I mentioned before - duechebag. After his introduction and the expected eye rolling that ensued on my part, he said he's from LA too, he went to USC. I noted that my parents both went to USC - poor move. From that moment on, for the rest of the night morning he proceeded to shout "FIGHT ON!!" with his fingers in the air every time I wasn't paying attention to him... which was constantly.

But honestly, we had a fun weekend excursion. The car ride home was a bit rough for me and Emily, for a reason that I just feel horrible relaying/writing about, so I won't. It was traumatic and like nothing I've ever had to experience before... I hope that I never do again.

Yikes, this post got awfully dark for Vegas. I'm in a dark mood right now, so you know, that happens. Anyway... adios.

The sound of peace and quiet

Good day my fair readers.

I have an inquiry for which I’d like to elicit your suggestions and recommendations:

I LOVE the sound of white noise when I am falling asleep at night, specifically, the constant droning of a fan. I love it so much that I find it difficult to feel comfortable and soothed while falling asleep without the noise. Unfortunately, two problems have arisen: (1) the fan is great on hot nights, but when fall and winter roll around I basically force myself to shiver like I’m trapped in an icebox just so that I can have that auditory bliss - since the calming effect I get from the fan outweighs the bitter sensation that my frosty skin endures, and (2) I have been waking up with a raw throat and congested sinuses from the harsh conditions of the constant air blast (even when it is oscillating).

So my question is this: does anyone know of some sort of white noise device that I can use in lieu of a fan, to help me fall asleep at night? It’s going to have to be something that’s more or less identical to a fan sound; I’ve heard alarm clocks that offer rain, wind, and ocean settings, and though they might suffice, I’d really like the basic sound of a fan.

I eagerly await all responses and suggestions!

Activities Worth Mentioning

Well hello there. It’s been called to my attention that I haven’t written much this month. I’ve started a few different entries but something always comes up and I don’t have time to finish them. So I’m going to see if I have enough time to squeeze one out right now.

The past week has been jam packed with activities. Be it a Dodger game, a night with grandparents, staffing a work related event, moving furniture, attending a show at the Hollywood Bowl, jet-setting to San Francisco for the weekend, or seeing THE BEASTIE BOYS (what what!) at The Greek AND The Wiltern, I just can’t seem to get a quiet night of relaxation at home. Oh woe is me!

Yes, the past eight days have consisted of all those activities, and more. Where do I start? How about I work backwards in time. So, yeah, I saw The Beastie Boys last night in concert at The Greek Theatre, ya know, no big deal. So like, they were amazing and it was probably one of the best few concerts I’ve ever been to, if not THE best, (shrug) but whatevs… in all seriousness though: WOW. I’ve been ardently listening to these B Boys since I was about eleven years old (“be true to yourself and you will never fall” was my eighth grade yearbook graduation quote), and yet I had never seen them live. Last night was exactly what I was hoping for, but so much more than I expected. They played more or less the entire Ill Communication album, which is definitely my favorite album, the one that first got me interested in their music, in fact – the one I was hoping they would play plenty of songs from. The stage was absolutely magnificent: a dozen or two rounded tyriangular, asymmetrical, different sized screens loosely hung in a wave shape over the stage, shining different lights and patterns throughout the show; the raised instrument section of the stage (including two full drum sets, other forms of percussion, and keyboards) had bright, color changing lining underneath it, which illuminated the whole stage – during funky jams they set the color to a mellow orangey-red and during high energy rhymes it alternated bright whites, yellows, blues, reds, greenss etc.; Mix Master Mike’s turntable setup had strobe lights posted on both outside table corners; they were all dressed in suh-weet getups, reminiscent of 1940s speakeasy-goers. The whole act was very classy, even when singing “No Sleep ‘til Brooklyn”. Overall, the show had a very funky, lounge-like feel, due to the new instrumental album the are promoting, called The Mix Up.

Oh, and did I mention that I’m going to see them again tonight at The Wiltern, for their all-instrumental “Gala Event” show, for which audience members are expected to dress to the nines? Oh, I did? Well anyway, I’m doing that too.

Whew, I’m already out of figurative breath, and I haven’t even started talking about the weekend. On Friday night Karen, Emily and I set out for San Francisco, for a weekend of fun in honor of Sam’s birthday. A weekend of fun indeed. I really don’t know that I could have had a better time. Naturally, after going out to dinner that night, we set out on the town. I don’t know the name of the first bar we went to, but it was nice until it got over crowded. At that point we headed to one of Sam’s favorite bars called “The Red Room”. The name says it all: everything, everywhere you look, is red. They even have wall partitions made of bottles that reflect red everywhere (perhaps the bottles themselves are red, I don’t know). I definitely liked the layout there. Of course, when you’re on vacation, no night simply ends when you hear the shouts of “last call!” and realize the lights are fading back on, making your red room appear not so red after all. So we went to an apartment that had pretty cool graffiti covering the inside walls, which made for some unique photographs.

Saturday might have been my favorite day of all. For his birthday, Sam wanted to play softball. I was pumped about it as soon as I heard. I love softball but stopped playing after eighth grade because I was never very good; despite having a decent arm, I was always pretty much a benchwarmer. Regardless, I’ve always loved to play catch and I guess I just really like games in general. Anyway, we spent the whole afternoon outside, in the sun, being merry. It was grand and I’d really like to make a habit of it… outdoor game-playing, that is. After getting cleaned up we started the evening by convening for “Happy Hour” (read: 10pm) at Sam’s. The first bar we headed out to was so interesting. It was actually an art gallery that throws themed parties every week. This weekend the theme was croquet, or garden party, or something of that nature. The entire floor was covered in plush grass – I couldn’t resist walking around barefoot. Plus, there was an upstairs loft area that we had to our group of about 15 people for a good hour, so it made for our own little private party. The second place we went to was also interesting in its own rite (I hope I remember the story correctly): back in the day, Miles Davis opened this cool little jazz bar and I guess it was quite the musical destination for awhile. It closed and remained closed for about twenty years, and only recently reopened with the new name “222”. The DJ in the back had us all getting groovy, dancing our little hearts out until, yet again, it was time for them to kick us out for closing.

Sunday consisted of lying around in Washington Park all day, from which my face incurred a nasty red sunburn unlike one I’ve had in years. But it was relaxing and totally enjoyable to just lounge around on a grassy knoll all afternoon with a handful of good friends. All in all, it was fantastic to hang out with old friends all weekend, in addition to meeting and making new ones. Great people, awesome city, what more could I ask for?

That’s all the energy I have to write about things in the past. So, there you go.

The Boys in Blue

Well, I went to a Dodger game last night, my first of the season. They played the Houston Astros. I had forgotten that fans of the away team often infultrate the robust exhibition of regional pride that occurs at baseball games. But sure enough, jerseys of brick red & tan with names...

Outfield seats aren't as far away as I remember them being when I was a kid.

Haha - I never finished this post...

One more cup of coffee for the road

I wasn't fully aware that I had become addicted to caffeine - yet again - until today. I'm sitting here at my desk with a throbbing head, almost as though my sinuses are backed up and the only cure is to lay in bed and sleep it off. Looking at my computer screen, I can't focus. I try to sit up straight but my back curls over the edge of my desk. I try to write this blog entry and find myself holding my head as though it hurts to think, as I harness all my energy to squeeze out one collected thought at a time... very... slowly.

It's only been one or two weeks since I've reverted to my old ways of sipping the juice in the morning. Ah coffee, my old comrade: a pick me up, something to get my day started. I began drinking again, thinking it was harmless; just a way to make sure I'm ready and raring to go by the time I get to work, a way to focus my mind. Once I acknowledged my dependency on it - the last time around - I realized I should get off the stuff "for good". Then, months later, I actually decided to... when I saw that my teeth had become the charming shade of 1920s photographs. Superficial? Maybe. But what kind of person would I turn into if I sustained such a vice? I mean, Mommy always said caffeine made Daddy mean at night time.

And now - after moving into a new apartment and establishing a new route to work, which happens to pass right by my local coffee shop - I've begun groggily stumbling in for a little morning boost, despite my triumph of kicking that habit months ago. A girl's gotta wake up somehow!

So here I sit, at my computer, half awake, chatting on instant messenger with my friend from down the hall about needing caffeine - a conversation he initiated after witnessing my condition. "Maybe we should walk down the street for some coffee," he says very sympathetically. I find it funny that as I write this, all my concurrent communications with other people orbit around this powerful little drink. What a hold it has on me!

After much deliberation, I think we've built up the morale. I'm off to get some caffeine!

The Darjeeling Limited trailer

Oh, I'm really excited. Wes Anderson is my absolute favorite. I've never enjoyed another movie or style of movie-making the way I enjoy his. I mean honestly, his movies make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

I Like Concerts

(alternate title: Concerts Are Fun)

I missed out on seeing the Shout Out Louds on Thursday night (tickets which I won online) because it was the one year anniversary of Dance Right at La Cita. The theme was Disco Prom and because the costume theme nights are usually such a spectacle, how could I resist? Surprisingly, not many people showed up for a theme night, and few were even in costume - very unusual. I suspect many of the infrequent attendees figured it would be utter chaos and decided to forgo the madness. So anyway, I gave those Shout Out Loud tickets to Wade and he was kind enough to give me an over-sized bottle of wine in return. And yes, he DID know that I got them for free.

Friday night I went to see a friend of Katie's play at the Hotel Cafe in Hollywood. Pretty music, but really heavy, I tell you what. Like, should-I-just-go-ahead-and-jump? type music.

Saturday (the main attraction of this blog entry) Karen took me to the Daft Punk concert downtown at the Sports Arena. Boy oh boy, what a show! I definitely have never danced that hard, which says a lot considering my stint as a faux hippie during college; I've been to an awful lot of jam band shows and done my fair share of twirling, prancing, and downright jigging. But Daft Punk put all other dance-worthy concerts to shame. Plus, their space suits were just awesome - for the encore they turned off most of the lights onstage and their suits and helmets were lined in glowing red neon lighting. I've never seen them before so it was all new to me. Thank you for that, once again, Karen.

AND, I just won MORE concert tickets. I absolutely love giveaways. The trick is you keep an eye or ear out for those underground outlets that probably won't have many people calling in/entering right away. This time the tickets are for Martin Rev at the Silverlake Lounge, from good ol' KXLU - gotta love those sometimes-staticky, low numbered radio stations.

Good Morning Sunshines

When I arrive at work in the morning - arms awkwardly full with Staples office supplies and mind scattered from run-ins with some of the more ridiculous representatives of this human race - there's really nothing better than opening my Microsoft Outlook and seeing that the subject line of my first email reads "3 pictures for you"...

Good morning sunshines!

Camping in the Sierras

So here is documentation of my recent camping experience. Minutes after we arrived we headed to the pond for some swimming and games (that pond was a life saver since it was so hot up there). In fact, we spent most of our time playing games. All different kinds of games: card games, dominoes, horse shoes, four square (on the dock in the middle of the pond - if you missed the ball you were most likely diving into the water to get it, an added element of fun), swings, etc. Josh even took me for a ride on the back of one of the motorcycles they had at the campsite. We also did a lot of relaxing.








Next was our day trip to a lake (Mammoth Lake, I think Marissa said?). We drove to the trail head and then there was a short hike o reach the lake. There are stones of all different sizes at the lake, all throughout, and it's pretty shallow, so you could basically rock hop across the entire thing. It was very cool.







On our way back we stopped at a meadow that has a few 'abandoned' shacks dispersed throughout. But actually, someone had obviously taken up residence in them, because they had insulated the insides with tarp and left behind cans of soups and shotgun shells - notice the bullet holes in the metal chimney - scary. But I did enjoy admiring the beautiful scenery.



I missed out on the second mini-lake excursion. Bummer. But here's the highlight of it:



Yep, me chopping wood:



A last view of the local meadow:

THE END!

Desperately Seeking Suggestions

Currently I am in the process of organizing and launching an online publicity arm for my PR agency. The movement has already been approved, though I must have a proposal plan/outline completed by the end of the week. As you may have guessed, simply based on the fact that you are reading this blog right now, I'm at a loss about where to start. So I figured, maybe writing a blog will get the juices flowing. My problem is constructing the grand scheme and assigning an order to what few processes I have determined must occur.

I've attended panels and webinars about Social Media, Web 2.0, and blogging, but all seem to be more directed towards those companies that already have a very involved website and/or blog. I've done my Internet research, but still feel void of key elements and know-how necessary to the start-up process. I feel like once I get the ball rolling, once I gain some momentum, not only will things start to fall into place more naturally, but I'll also have a better idea of how to navigate, based on the live action. Right now it's as if I'm trying to draw a map to some distant place I visited when I was younger; I know what the place looks like, but I really wouldn't be able to create a layout for how to get there.

Of course, it's occurred to me that maybe I'm selling myself short. Maybe - like other endeavors that I've let fizzle and dry out despite having been quite excited about them at one point - I'm just too scared of the jumping off point, or too intimidated by the work that a new and unfamiliar project requires. Maybe, just maybe, all those informational forums have formed some sort of retention in my brain and I actually do have the capacity to tackle this obstacle. Maybe...

Regardless, if anyone out there has any suggestions whatsoever, broad or specific, in regards to the development of a detailed proposal plan for launching an online publicity website and/or blog, my ears are wiiiide open.

Idiocracy

Upon logging out of my hotmail account this morning, I came across an article entitled Your 5 Minute Guide to Raising Kids. At first I thought it was very sad that an article like this exists, then I thought it was funny, then I got a little sad again. It sort of begs the question of what contributes to poor parenting mentalities - which breed aloof parents who think reading an article like this is making a god-honest effort to be a better and more responsible parent. It's a big circle.

On a similar strand, Josh and I watched the movie Idiocracy last night. Our Netflix choices were Superman Returns, The Inconvenient Truth, and Idiocracy. Because I was attempting to unpack my new apartment, while lounging in my room watching a movie (first time I've had such a luxury!), I wanted something that didn't require all my attention. Idiocracy stars Luke Wilson (say no more) and Maya Rudolph and, well, sounds like just the type of movie I was looking for. Oddly enough though, my eyes were glued to the TV, as I unwittingly dropped a few IQ points by watching this movie.

The premise of Idiocracy is actually pretty humorous in it's satirical nature, which is also to say that, unfortunately, in some respect it is on par with reality. More specifically, the movie is commentary on the reality of the US and the exponential multiplication of uneducated white trash families vs. the dying out of intelligent and responsible people who focus their time on bettering their careers and being cautious, instead of making babies. Come 2505, the world has been taken over by idiots who can barely communicate (due to a vocabulary that is about 50% groaning noises and 35% the word "shit") and an ineffectively run government of people so moronic and controlled by consumerism that their most prominent disaster is dusts storms caused by lack of plant life... because they think they are supposed to water their crops with Gatorade as opposed to water... cuz it's got them electrolyte thingies. I'll stop there.

And, just like last night, I've already devoted more time and attention to this movie than I really should have. I guess the director was savvier than I initially thought.

On a less ridiculous note: the apartment is coming along great! Most of my stuff is moved in, and though it still appears to be in shambles, it's starting to feel like home. It's light and airy and is definitely located in the most optimal place in the complex, where we only share 1 wall with an adjoining neighbor (not that we're really loud, I just don't want to worry that someone will get upset whenever we play music after dusk). Plus, I think I fall in love with the neighborhood a little more each time I arrive home after work. Who would have thought that my first apartment in LA would be only a half mile from the house I grew up in. I couldn't be more thrilled!