Weekend in San Diego

I took a train excursion down to San Diego this weekend with a couple friends/coworkers to participate in the Subaru Women's Triathlon.

We all opted for the "super sprint" - 375 meter swim/6 mile bike/2.1 mile run. I finished towards the end of the pack...I started out OK on the swim, but got nervous and a little lazy after getting to the first buoy. Ah well, I finished. I did exponentially better in the swim than my first tri, and, no doubt, the next one will be even better!

Rick-Rollin' Good Time

I don't know where I've been that I've only recently caught on to the Web phenomenon known as "Rick Rolling." The concept is easy ... someone does a search for something -- say, "three on three Dachshund action"-- then clicks on the top search result, only to land on a YouTube clip of Rick Astley singing "Never Gonna Give You Up." Brilliant!

Perhaps I'm late to the RR game because I don't have time to do extraneous, subversive Web searching. Regardless, I'm glad I'm in on the joke now, because it gives me an excuse to link to the "Family Guy" clip above (which, I swear, I referenced a couple times in the last few weeks just because I thought it was clever). And, of course, I have to admit that I do love the Rick Astley song (reminds me of those fun and carefree days of my late teens), and enjoy the retro kick of seeing the video.

On a related note, you'd think with all that soul brimming from his voicebox, Rick Astley would've had some rhythm. Negative! Last night I watched George Michael: Behind the Music on VH1 Classic, and noticed that he rocked a lot of the same moves as ol' Rick ... George Michael didn't have much rhythm either ... go figure!

Anyhoo, my original point was that I do dig this song, and find the oh-so-'80s video kinda charming.

Where the Bleep Does the Weekend Go?

It's 11:14 on a Sunday night; so much for getting eight hours of sleep tonight.

Now that I'm a 9-to-5er (technically, an 8:30 - 5:30er), my weekends are way too hectic. There's just too much to do. Take this weekend for example:

Friday night:
Rush home after staying a little late at work so I can catch the premiere of High School Musical 2. (Enjoyed it, but not as much as HSM, but more on that later.)

Saturday:
Get to Lifeguard Station 26 at Santa Monica by 8:30 a.m. for triathlon team workout. Ride along the bike path and up one killer hill at Temescal (hour total), then walk (My bad back prevents me from running anymore) for about 40 minutes.
Run a couple errands, get some lunch, then crash on couch with It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World on TCM in the background. Skip screening of The Simpsons Movie in the Valley.
Get up, get ready for and drive to a birthday party for a friend in Santa Monica. Arrive by 9:45. It's a fabulous soiree with hottie bartenders out on a designerly backyard/patio of a recently remodeled home. I have one of the house martinis, then a couple waters and am home by 12:30.

Sunday:
Sleep in. Skip Farmer's Market and company picnic. Clean house, go swimming (1050 meter workout), then head to the Valley to run some errands and see a screening of The Bourne Ultimatum. It's the most attended TV Academy screening I've gone to in quite a while. As a result, I have to sit in the second row, and fight the feeling of seasickness for most of the flick.
Head back to the Westside, and stop in at my laundromat of choice to do three loads. Get home by 9:40ish.

I blew off/skipped so many things, yet I'm still exhausted. I'm almost looking forward to the week, which shouldn't be as draining as the weekend -- although I do rise at the crack of dawn most days so I can work out at my company gym for 30-40 minutes and shower/get dressed before heading into the office. Tomorrow I'm taking the day off from the morning workout since I'll be going to a swim workout with the triathlon team at 7:30 p.m.

Yes, I've been working out a lot, but I have a college reunion that I'd like to look hot for in October. (plus a full triathlon I'd like to do in October, after September's Nautica Malibu Tri, so I need to be in tip-top shape.) I've also been eating well, and I hope I can keep it up.

Now, about my under-21 crush Zac Efron and HSM 2: I enjoyed it, esp, the "I Don't (or is it 'I Can't'?) Dance" number. The movie was very cute and extremely high-energy. But, I have to admit that I (gasp!) liked the original better. The songs were more infectious, and I do love that Drew Seeley's voice. For some reason, the movie producers used Drew for just about all of Zac's singing in the original movie. Although Zac has no problem carrying a tune (see Hairspray), and he insisted on doing his own singing for HSM 2. Anyhoo, I imagine that I have the same reax to the movie as all the other fuddieduddies out of the target demo -- and they echo those of the NY Times reviewer (especially the comment about the out-of-control use of bronzer on the cast. WTF?).

OK, enough stream-of-consciousness typing (esp. when I should be working on pages for my upcoming workshop critique). I hope I can get through tomorrow on just six hours of sleep...

I Got It!

Here is is, my "free" MacBook Pro -- all 5.6 lbs, 15.4 inch screen and 120GB of it! About 4 1/2 months ago, I started filling out offers through one of those marketing sites ("Get a FREE MacBook Pro!") so I could qualify for it. Yes, the process was tedious, required much attention to detail, and I have a pile of facial products, posters, language and Video Professor DVDs to try and sell on eBay, but I did receive my Apple laptop.

In the end, this baby cost me approximately $1450. Of that, about $102 was sunk costs (paying for subscriptions/services/products I didn't use; shipping costs); I used $383 in services (Disney DVDs, eMusic, Blockbuster, wine club shipments, restaurant coupons). So, you could say my actual cost was about $1056 -- even less if I get around to selling any of the $900 in unopened/unused products I now have.

I'm so jazzed, now I think I'll try for an iPhone! It's offered by these people: http://www.electronics-netpathreward.com -- just do a Google search for the correct link, spend some time on their questionnaire, then you'll land on their three levels of offer pages. Here we go again!

Fare Thee Well to FW

Parting is such bittersweet sorrow. Much more so when you're left hanging. Does Tanya Turner blackmail the lecherous owner of Earls Park down to his very last quid, or does he just go to jail for murdering Roger? Does Lucy have a biracial baby? Will Liberty ever model again? And, most importantly, what the dickens happened to Amber's (or as Conrad pronounced it, um-BAH) baby?

Those questions and more will never be answered, alas, because "Footballers Wives" was canceled before everything could be wrapped up neatly, or just explained away as Bob Newhart's ecstacy-induced dream.

Iowa on My Mind

Yesterday I returned from a week in Iowa City, where I attended the last session of the 21st annual Iowa Summer Writing Festival. I participated in a workshop entitled "Passionate Revision" led by a fabulous instructor named Lon Otto.

It's rare, I believe, to make new friends at my age, but that's just what I did. I spent the majority of my week bonding with amazing people who not only have a passion for writing and revision, but who have an appreciation for the writing process and compassion for fellow storytellers. What an honor and a pleasure to brainstorm, chat, converse and get to know them all.

And, after months of questioning my writing and wondering if I'm wasting my time plugging away at my novel, I received some much-needed validation, encouragement and advice from Lon. What a swell guy.

So, now I'm energized to continue with my project, knowing that I have a whole new set of friends to turn to for feedback and support. How fortuitous that I decided to go to Iowa and picked the workshop that I did. But, then again, I have the feeling that this was all in the stars for me.

Feeling a Little Restless

This is my last full week of "freedom" -- well, being as unencumbered as one can be when working 5 early-morning hours per weekday -- before I head out to the Iowa Summer Writers Festival then return to start my new full-time gig.

I'm super-cognizant of not "wasting" any of this precious time. I feel like I should be going for swims at the Santa Monica pool and going to spin class in the middle of the day or strolling random farmers markets or taking my beach cruiser out for afternoon jaunts. But, I haven't done much more than veg on the couch and watch TV (when not in front of the computer working) for the last two days.

I found out why I've been feeling restless yet unmotivated to make the most of my last hurrah.(Lunar cycles and all that jazz.) It's just as well, though. It's been seven months of this great hiatus. Of course, I didn't do everything I aspired to, but I did do a little bit of everything, so I have no regrets. It's time for me to get back on the career bandwagon...or at least focus on a solid job with good benefits for the time being.

And, though my new gig is not of the "sexy" entertainment-industry variety, I have a very good feeling about it, and about the people I'll be working with. They seem smart, capable and very decent. That may sound very basic, but given where I've come from, that's a luxury.

Best of all, after all sorts of sketchy experiences, it looks like I've finally gotten myself into a large company that isn't afraid or contemptuous of black people, evidenced by the sheer numbers. Besides my short stint at a black-owned and operated company (really, I have to pinch myself -- was that a dream?), I've found myself at companies large and small that I always gave the benefit of the doubt, although there were suspiciously low numbers of black employees, or my pay was suspiciously lower than colleagues with the same title and job responsibilities, or my title was suspiciously sub-par than that of co-workers with far less experience, educational background, job responsibilities and accomplishments.

Bygones. All those shitty job situations and bosses have made me a shrewder, stronger, sharper and smarter person. And, now that those lessons have been learned, I'm hoping this next job adventure will be a positive, wild ride with great rewards.

If not, at least the perks and the 401K plan are good!

Vive la France!

Sunday was a lovely day, so I headed to Bergamot Station with a friend to the Bastille Day celebration. It was small and quaint -- nice, but not quite worth the $5 entrance fee and the long, long walk from our faraway parking space.

Later in the evening, we hit a showing of "Ratatouille" at the Century City AMC. (It's a great theater with stadium seating, yet not so great if you have to sit in the third row. ARGH!). The movie was definitely one of my faves from the Disney/Pixar canon. It never ceases to amaze me how skilled the Pixar folks are at good old-fashioned storytelling. The score was great and the end titles were both fun and inspiring. Bravo to them!

Who Needs the Kwik-E-Mart? I Doooooo!

This song has been stuck in my head since I was joking about it at "Singalong Sound of Music" two weekends ago. Of course, the part I really can't get out of my head (the end, Apu sings "I doooo") isn't translated here, but you'll get the idea.

There's a promotional Kwik-E-Mart on Venice and Sepulveda. I drove past after midnight this morning and there was *still* a line snaking outside. I hope to get in sometime before The Simpsons Movie publicity ends ... sheesh, what's the deal -- are they giving away a bag of coke to sprinkle with each box of Krusty-Os?!

Makes Me Wanna SCREAM!

COMPARE AND CONTRAST:

Utah man who had sex with girl, 13, is sentenced
From the Associated Press
July 11, 2007

WEST JORDAN, UTAH — A judge sentenced the son of an imprisoned Utah polygamist to 180 days in jail Tuesday for having sex with a 13-year-old girl he met on the Internet site MySpace.

William Green, 19, must avoid pornography, stay out of Internet chat rooms and pay a $500 fine, District Court Judge Royal Hansen said.

"He's a remorseful kid," said Green's lawyer, David Leavitt. "He's married and has full-time work. I think you'll see this is a blip on the radar screen."

Green was charged with rape but pleaded guilty to two counts of misdemeanor sexual battery.

His father, Tom Green, 58, went to prison in 2001 for having sex with a 13-year-old girl when he was 37.

The girl was the first of five women he took as wives. He also was convicted of bigamy and criminal non-support for the thousands of dollars in state payments made to support his 32 children.

Green is scheduled to be released from prison Aug. 7.

Leavitt, who prosecuted Tom Green, said William Green was a victim because he grew up in an environment where there was no sensitivity to age-appropriate sex.

WITH:

Editorial
Free Genarlow Wilson Now
From The New York Times
Published: December 21, 2006

Genarlow Wilson loves reading mystery novels and can’t wait for the next Harry Potter book. The 20-year-old former high school football player and honor student works in a library, the perfect job for a young bookworm. Unfortunately, that is where the good news ends and a genuine horror story of this country’s legal system begins.

The library in Georgia where Mr. Wilson works is in prison. He is two years into a sentence for engaging in consensual oral sex with a 15-year-old girl at a New Year’s Eve party when he was 17. He won’t be eligible for parole until he has served 10 years, essentially sacrificing his remaining youth to an obvious miscarriage of justice.

As Shaila Dewan reported in The Times this week, Mr. Wilson has been convicted of aggravated child molestation even though he and the girl were both minors at the time. Even if he could win an early release, Mr. Wilson could not go home to his family. He would have to register as a sex offender and would be prohibited from living with his 8-year-old sister. It is all the more disgraceful because the Georgia Supreme Court last week refused to hear his appeal.

The sexual act took place during a party involving sex, marijuana and alcohol, all captured on a graphic videotape. But that does not make Mr. Wilson a child molester. When high school students engage in consensual sexual activity, that is not the same as an adult molesting a teenager or a teenager molesting a child.

What makes this case more absurd is that if Mr. Wilson and the young woman had sexual intercourse, he would have been guilty only of a misdemeanor and not required to register as a sex offender, thanks to a provision in the law meant to avoid just this type of draconian punishment for consensual youthful indiscretions, the “Romeo and Juliet” exception. And since Mr. Wilson’s conviction, the law has been changed to exempt oral sex as well. But the courts say that can’t help Mr. Wilson retroactively.

His lawyer is planning to file a habeas petition seeking his release. The courts need to grant it and expunge his record so that Mr. Wilson can return to his family and his once promising academic career. Legislators in other states should take notice and make sure that their own laws do not catch children in dragnets designed for predatory adults.

WHAT THE EFF???!!!

The Police Concert, and Meeting My Asian Doppelgänger

I went to see The Police concert at the Staples Center on Wednesday night, the 20th. It was cool to be there -- I went alone and had a fun time -- but maybe around halfway through the concert, I realized it wasn't really all that great.

The last time I was at the Staples Center for a concert was in January to see Justin Timberlake. Sometime during his first number ("FutureSex/LoveSound"), my friends and I remarked how amazing he sounded. His voice was crystal-clear and the acoustics were pristine. On Wednesday, sometime during "Synchronity II" or "Roxanne" or one of the old hits, I realized how crappy the sound was. Sting's voice sounded muddy and the music was just very feedbacky. Not to mention that the guys just seemed to motor through the set -- probably with dollar signs ch-chinging in their heads. Big bummer.

But, despite the concert price tag (about $125 including Ticketmaster fees), I'm still happy I decided to get in on this reunion tour. I even got so caught up in it that I lost my mind temporarily and shelled out $80 for a distressed (read: washed and has tiny tears and holes) T-shirt. I know, I know: crrrazy and just a bit out of character for this frugal chick. Anyway, onward and upward. I'm looking forward to Sing-along Sound of Music at the Hollywood Bowl next Saturday.

Some other highlights of the week:
- attending the Joost cocktail party at the TV Academy. Once I get a computer that can handle it, I can't wait to take advantage of my beta tester status.
- deciding to ditch "Late Night at LACMA" plans on Summer Solstice with a friend and scoring a last-minute table at Pizzeria Mozza (yes, Batali's place on Melrose). Actually, the meal was just "OK" -- no big whoop. Been there, done that ... I can cross it off my list.
- third interview at a big company for a full-time freelance gig. I suppose it's time to do my finances a favor and get back on the 9-to-5 bandwagon...
- "Ocean's 13" screening at the TV Academy. Fun flick. Could've been 30 minutes shorter, tho.
- Martha Stewart Living event at the Beverly Center L'Oreal Paris store. Pleasant event with nice giveaways. But, I have to admit, both of my events there attracted larger numbers of women who were more fun, engaged, and interested in the makeup. Yay, me! ;-)
- Summer solstice dessert and cocktail party at the friend of a friend's place in Beverly Hills on Saturday night. What a fun little soiree. And, I met my Asian doppelgänger! She's a mellow gal with a similar passion for travel, and -- get this -- we even sort of have the same name! How cool to make new friends (and potential travel buddies!) when you least expect it!

This coming week is another full one, but my mom is coming to visit, and we're fixin' to have lots of fun.

Ranger Ernie Rocks!

This past weekend was the last Saturday morning Griffith Park ranger hike until September. Ranger Ernie Ybarra led a small group of eager Angelenos on a 5-mile trek up to a shady hilltop oasis known as Amir's Garden.

Amir's Garden was lovingly created by Amir Dialameh, an Iranian immigrant and nature enthusiast. For more than three decades, he's hiked up the steep hillside with his pick and axe with plants, trees, flowers and succulents in tow, transforming a swath of scorched earth above the Mineral Wells area into a lush, shady grove. (Info at amirsgarden.org.)



Although a couple friends came along for the hike, we all spent time talking with various members of the hiking group. This was my third time out, and already there are familiar faces. It's a fun and interesting group of people who seek out free and active opportunities to explore the outdoor offerings in our city. (BTW, now I know where to find a tasty peach tree in the park, not too far from the old zoo -- the peaches were crunch but sweet!)

The next hike isn't scheduled until September 29 (we usually meet at 9 a.m. at the Visitor's Center/ranger station), but Ranger Ernie is planning to lead some nighttime hikes before then, which should be amazing. Email him for info at: ernie.ybarra@lacity.org.

How I Spent My Weekend

Friday: Opening reception at Pounder Kone Art Space in Atwater Village -- a longtime project of co-founder, CCH Pounder, finally come to fruition. CC is Guyanese (like my parents) and our paths have crossed before, so it was nice seeing/chatting with her again.

Saturday: Woke up late, so got to pilates class 20 minutes late. Listened to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" and "Weekend America" on NPR while running errands. Saw a familiar-looking African American movie character actor while at the car wash on Ventura in Studio City. Caught an early afternoon screening of Shrek the Third at the TV Academy. Enjoyable.

Sunday: Forwarded a Sunday NYT article highlighting my recent AFI DCL project (I was on the Cartoon Network team). Cleaned house, ran more errands. Back to North Hollywood for the TV Academy screening of Pirates of the Caribbean. Way too long, but that Orlando Bloom sure is pretty.

Makes Me Laugh Every Time

The Most Beautiful Men on TV...

...are on BBC America! How do I love thee, "Footballers Wive$"? Let me count the ways:

Hot-Hot-Hotness from Earls Park's newest midfielder, "Tremaine Gidigbi," (Chucky Venice) fresh from the pen:


The dearly departed, yet somehow still vapor-inducing "Conrad Gates" (Ben Price):


And, there's still a little place in my heart for AWOL pretty boy "Kyle Pascoe," (Gary Lucy) who discovered he liked the sistas after his trophy wife bit the dust:


Now you know how I'll be spending my Wednesday evenings this summer!

www.footballerswives.tv
FW page on BBCAmerica.com

Free Knickers from Macy's -- Last Chance!

Promotion ends TODAY -- print out a coupon to get a free Jockey Ultimates panty. More info here.

My New Vocabulary Word

Main Entry: zar·zue·la
Pronunciation: "zär-z&-'wA-l&, "zär-'zwA-
Function: noun
Etymology: Spanish, probably from La Zarzuela, royal residence near Madrid where it was first performed
: a usually comic Spanish operetta

My friend, Stacey, won some L.A. Opera tickets and invited me to attend a show on Tuesday night -- Placido Domingo and Maria Jose Montiel headlining in Luisa Fernanda, which, I learned, is a zarzuela.

The seats (valued at $180 apiece!) were amazing, as was the opportunity to spend a pre-summer evening at the Music Center in not-quite-balmy downtown L.A.

Sure, the plot was a little thin and convoluted (as storylines in operas usually are), and yes, it was a bit of a downer that the supertitles weren't as thorough or accurate as they could've been (only people with Spanish comprehension skills "got" the jokes that weren't translated), but the sets/staging were interesting and innovative and the costuming/dance was, in a word, pretty.

Alas, no matter how fabulous or celebrated a particular ballet or opera is, I usually find myself nodding off at some point (yes, I even fell asleep a couple seasons ago at the Baz Luhrmann version of La Boheme. I know ... blasphemy!). This show was no different. I just nodded, though. No actual sleeping occurred.

The performance was enjoyable, as was the after-theatre snack we had at Kendall's Brasserie on Grand Ave., which is the post-performance destination of choice for performers and theatre-goers alike. I had a yummy shrimp and avocado salad, and spied Placido Domingo and his posse getting seated as I wolfed down my order of pommes frites.

I'm hoping to make a trip back to the Music Center soon -- I've been jonesin' to see Jersey Boys since before it won the Tony, and it's playing at the Ahmanson through August 5.

On an entirely unrelated note: I was up working at my computer from about 3 a.m. to 7:30ish, and when I was done, I collapsed into bed to get some sleep. Of course, by that time, my room was very bright, so I found an old sleeping mask I'd received on a Virgin Atlantic flight, put it on and hit the hay. A few hours later, when I woke up and took it off, my vision was seriously blurry. An hour after that, I still couldn't focus; when I sat at my computer to do my email, I reminded myself of my old post-college roommate. (Jane was legally blind, used the largest computer monitor I'd ever seen, and her eyes were always just inches away from it.)

This sleep-mask blindness (most likely just extremely dry eyes) scared the bejesus out of me, and seriously came at a bad time -- as I had to drive to an interview that afternoon. Luckily, this tale has a happy ending: I survived the drive to/from the interview (and it went well!), was able to read the supertitles at the opera without squinting, and after a few hours of shut-eye last night, I have my vision back. Whew!

Blue Moon Musings

If I'm correct, then tonight is the second full moon for the month of May -- a blue moon, if you will. About four months ago (yes, on the full moon in February), I was driving home after getting my nails "did" -- I was alert, not on the phone and not driving over the speed limit -- when a dweeb hit my car. It was totally his fault and he admitted it. Oh, did I mention he was driving a rental car and had no insurance? He was nervous and apologizing profusely and promised to pay for the repairs to my car, which are estimated at $1400. I stupidly didn't take down the tag number of the car he was driving, figuring there was really nothing I could do but have faith in the guy's trustworthiness.

I should've known something was wrong when he didn't wire me the money when he said he would, then kept texting me from London that he was having some sort of inopportune financial "crisis" and couldn't pay, even though he wanted to. This went on for months, until I decided to get my insurance involved (more on his response here). Then I found out that I was responsible for a $500 deductible, which my insurance company would try to recoup from either him or the rental company's insurance. Michael Holt, the guy, promptly stopped replying to emails and answering his phone once insurance got involved. Then, he conveniently shut down the website of his company (he's a commercial director), Heaven Films, so his email address was gone.

So, my car is still wrecked while I try to scrape together the cash to cover my deductible so I can get my car repaired. In the meantime, I submitted a request to the CA DMV to get Mr. Holt's information, so I could work on recouping my expenses from him -- maybe by taking him to small claims court. I received a phone call today from them -- seems the CA driver license info that Mr. Holt (or whatever his name is) gave me is incorrect. Figures. Now all I have for him is a cell phone number - 1.800.963.0093, and the source of his text messages from the UK - +447942216680. But, he's probably gotten rid of those too.

So, I'm back to square zero, while he's out there on the road, flitting around L.A. or the U.K, doing whatever it is that he does, making himself a bigger target when it finally comes time for him to pay the karma police. I wish him luck. He'll need it.

No, I'm not bitter. Not in the least.

No Train, No Gain

Ten or so weeks ago, I was gung-ho about entering and training for the Danskin Women's Triathlon. I was stoked to learn how to use my clip-in bike shoes and to get to the next level with my swimming. The run point is moot since my back can no longer take the beating and my race-walking is just fine. But, I was motivated.

Cut to now: I did one semi-successful solo bike ride in Griffith Park and two spin classes; a handful of swim lessons and workouts, but I realized that's far from ample preparation for a race. So, when a former co-worker (and first-time triathlete who I convinced to sign up for the race) checked in to see how the training was going, I didn't have the heart to tell her I wasn't planning on doing the race after all. I coordinated a run-through with her, a few friends and a swim coach for early Saturday morning. I figured if I could push through that, then maybe I'd suck it up and sign up for the race.

So, the group of us met at Bonelli Park yesterday. The bike clip-in was an ordeal, and the ride was a bit challenging; moreso considering we still had a swim to do and I was trying to conserve energy. That didn't help; by the time I struggled and finally pulled on my wetsuit, I was exhausted. No swim for me...I pulled on my fins and grabbed our swim coach's little flotation device and just kicked alongside the others as they put in their meters and received coaching pointers.

By the time I got home, I was tired and sore and wondering what I could do to motivate myself to jump-start my training. I decided that I would not enter another race to torture myself; I actually want to have fun at one of these events, and that doesn't happen if you're scared of wiping out on your bike (or even stopping and then having to clip back in) or hyperventilating about the swim. That all kinda defeats the purpose of the sport.

So, alas, no tri for me this time. At least not next week. I did notice that Suburu has an all-woman tri in San Diego in October -- perhaps that's worth aiming for. I do know that I want to put the membership I purchased to USAT to good use this year. I hope I can pull it off.

After all, with almost no black women in the sport of triathlon, this sista's gotta represent.

Splurge vs. Steal

Cassis candle by DL & Co. Apothecary, $88 at Coco de Mer USA (deliciously naughty erotic emporium on Melrose):


(sensual, light, sandalwood-y)

vs.

Santal soy candle by Kobo, retail $34; normally $24.95 at Francis Ford Coppola Presents Rosso & Bianco Winery, but ON SALE for $14.99:


(romantic with sandalwood and anise)

Giddyap!

Sonoma, Je T'Aime

I spent the past weekend in and around the city by the Bay. Flew in to Oakland, met up with girlfriends who'd flown in separately, then we drove up to Sonoma County. The weather was gorgeous, sunny and warm.

We stopped in Healdsburg for lunch at Willi's Seafood & Raw Bar (yummy oysters and small plates), walked around the town square, then headed to the Toad Hollow Tasting Room. Dr. Toad himself was there to load up our rental SUV with Cacophony (Zinfandel) and Amplexus (sparkling), which the winery graciously donated to the Virgin's Guide/Dove Chocolate-sponsored wine and chocolate cocktail party I coordinated, which would take place at the Clift Hotel in San Francisco on Monday night.

As the sun began to set, the girls and I headed to Geyserville, where we were staying. (The Geyserville Inn is a wonderful little property, and very comfortable to boot.) Not too long after checking in, we freshened up and headed back to Healdsburg for some din-din.

The sky was an amazing shade of blue when we set out at around 8:45 p.m. -- reminiscent of a summer evening in the South of France. We ended up in the bar area at Barndiva, which is a wonderful space with unique bites and tasty cocktails. Although, the thing is, Healdsburg is a long way from L.A., so the town was just about shut down by the time we left, not even past 11.

Sunday was a blur of wine tastings (Locals, then the beautiful new Coppola winery in Geyserville and then a garden party at Passalacqua), shopping and driving. We got to our hotel in South San Francisco before 8, and raced to get a seating at Town Hall, one of the only restaurants that serves late on Sunday nights.

Monday was crazy. We had to get the two cases of wine from South San Francisco to the Clift Hotel; I had to cab down to the Indian embassy with paperwork and money to pay for a tourist Visa, then get myself back there to pick it up; there were pre-event preparations and stopping to get a bite to eat and freshening up and all that jazz.

But, by 6, the Spanish Suite at the Clift was all decked out and ready for our soiree, with delicious cocktails, Toad Hollow spirits, interesting canapes and, of course, all the Dove chocolate you could dream about. The event was a lot of fun and it seems as if everyone had a great time.

Afterwards, there was some dinner and convo down at Asia de Cuba, and a nice, long sleep. The trip back to L.A. on Tuesday was smooth and uneventful (considering it consisted of: a shuttle to SFO, BART to Oakland, BART shuttle to Oakland airport, and, back in L.A., the shuttle to the City Bus Center and the 3 Express to Lincoln and Brooks in Venice -- yes, I'm doing my part for the environment! -- then a 2 1/2 block walk home).

As I type this, the Virgin's Guide/Dove Chocolate event at the Glenn in Atlanta is winding down. We have another scheduled for May 31st at another swanky hotel in Chicago.

So, back to the old grind. I've already started scoping out Horizon Air's LAX-Sonoma fares, and the Hilton in Santa Rosa has some summer specials (gotta love getting Hilton HHonors points!). I'll be back!

Angela and Geraldine at Coppola:


Angela enjoying the view at Passalacqua:


Merriment at The Clift:

My New Wheels

This is Lulu, my new beach cruiser. She was a birthday present from my fabulous parents. (Well, I bought her with my birthday "present.")

My Enrique (1999 Nissan Pathfinder) is getting up there -- 97,000 miles, and the ridiculously high gas prices are a real drain on my limited "woman of leisure" finances. Since I live in a beach community where I can easily get around on two wheels, I decided what I really needed was a cruiser. Now, I ride to spin class, I ride to the post office, to Staples and to do my local errands; I'll be doing a lot less driving. Of course, this bike is exponentially heavier than my triathlon bike, so I'll be getting a nice workout every time I hit the road.

On another note, yesterday was the first day of sales at the Hollywood Bowl box office. I had a list of tickets to get (for friends and myself), so I got there about an hour after the BO opened, at 11 a.m. I received a wristband with number 517 on it. At that time, they were calling band numbers 100-110(!!).

So, I went to the Hollywood Farmers Market, perused the used DVDs at Amoeba Records, spent a couple hours at the CMU West Coast Alumni Drama Clan picnic at Camrose park, THEN headed back up to the Bowl box office...at about 4:45 p.m. By that time, they were calling numbers 580-590, so I could go stand in line. By 5 p.m., I had all my tickets -- including my SuperSeats for Hall & Oates and a block of cheapies for "Singalong Sound of Music" on June 30. I'm looking forward to a fun-filled summer -- riding my Lulu in the sunshine, and listening to great music under the stars.

Everybody Hates a Hot Mess

Tonight was the "Everybody Hates Chris" panel at the TV Academy. The last few I attended were quite good, so although I was thinking I should save gas and sit this one out, I decided to go.

BIG MISTAKE.

Not that the show episode wasn't cute and the cast/Chris Rock/Ali LeRoi weren't charming and lovely. It's that Kelsey Grammer definitely disappointed as a moderator. I've seen what a bad moderator can do to these types of panels...lose control and they turn into boring love-fests with the actors just patting one another on the back; don't ask interesting questions and it turns into a big snoozer; allow the audience too much latitude with their queries and you get long, rambling, self-serving non-questions.

Kelsey came onstage, offered compliments about everyone on the stage with him, then opened the floor up for questions. WTF? Why was he even there? Better to bill the program as "audience q&a with the cast of Everybody Hates Chris."

Some valiant audience members did try to ask the good "talk about the audition process," "tell us about a typical week on the set," and other perfunctory questions, since it was obvious that Kelsey wasn't going to, but the program quickly degenerated as one freakazoid after another budding-writer-looking-for-a-job took the microphone. The all-time lows were when a blogger asked for pictures with the cast and a sometime actress asked Chris if she could give him a copy of her self-published book. Pity. In their defense, the actors, Chris and Ali were very gracious and tried to stay on point and keep some level of decorum (and, in Chris's case, be funny, although there were so many kids in the audience that his joke choices were a little uncomfortable). It's just a shame that the panel for the one all-black show on the schedule had to be so ghetto.

Note to TV Academy activity committee: stick with reporters and journalists when it comes to booking panel moderators.

Reflections

I was in a strange mood on Sunday evening, so I wound up lying on the couch with the TV on and dozing. Finally, after "Wait Till Your Father Gets Home" (funky classic cartoon) ended on Boomerang, I got up and spent the next five hours in front of my computer, completing offers on one of those marketing websites so that I could qualify for a free Mac laptop. (Stay tuned for news on that.)

Sometime in the wee hours, I received an email message from my friend Susan. She let my friends and I know that our dear friend Jeff passed away on Sunday night. Jeff was just my age.

Jeff succumbed to a short but valiant fight with an opportunistic infection that attacks the brain known as PML. It sounds absolutely awful, and I can just imagine how scared Jeff felt knowing that he was losing control of his body and slipping away from us. When I learned about Jeff's condition, things were already dire, and he had suffered irreparable brain damage. He had lost motor function and was heavily sedated to keep him as comfortable as possible. That news was extremely upsetting, but my friends and I sent lots of prayers and good vibes his way. Just as I was, they were all probably preparing themselves for the inevitable in the process.

When the news came, I was sad, but felt a bit of relief for Jeff. I suppose we can now move on from the worry to the celebration of his life. I hope that I'll be able to travel to New York to do so with his friends and family.

You know the saying that goes something like "the way you celebrate New Year's sets the tone for the rest of the year"? Well, I spent New Year's Eve with my family getting ready to lose my aunt to an ugly, aggressive cancer; I spent New Year's day saying good-bye to her. My aunt Rosemary died on January 3. I felt horrible that she had to spend her last hours on Earth suffering through so much pain, and take her final breath from a strange hospital room.

I felt the same way about Jeff. I suppose I romanticize the ideal death -- passing after a lifetime of amazing experiences in a deep and peaceful sleep, surrounded by the people who love you. It just seems so heartbreaking to have to die in a strange and scary way in a strange and scary place.

However, I do believe that we've all signed up for our destinies, so I suppose that both my Aunt Rosemary and my friend Jeff knew what they were in for, and were well equipped to handle it.

I hope that in the end they were happy with their places in life and had no regrets. I hope they slipped away knowing that they were loved and will never be forgotten.

Crazy Cat, Body Fat and More

So, there are a couple of cats who like hanging around my apartment (the little yellow guest house). One is a grey cat with a bell around its neck, that likes walking right into my place (I keep the door open and don't have a screen), and gets belligerent whenever I shoo her out. The other is a weird black cat that likes skulking around. Sometimes I open my door and find she's been sitting out there in front of it. Other times she trips my light sensor and casts shadows through my curtains, walking back and forth along my ledges. Yet other times, she just makes this terrible sound that cats in heat generally do, as if she believes I'm hiding a he-cat inside.

Anyhoo, Saturday morning, I left to run an errand and came back home before I had to head out again. There, in the middle of my doormat was a songbird. A very dead one. UGH. Now, to understand the gravity of the situation, you have to know that I have a very bad birdphobia. I used to think about buying a house on my own, but one of the deterrents was thinking that I'd have to take care of any dead rodents or birds that come along, and that's just not my thing. So, I was a little freaked out by the rigor-mortised birdie right in front of my door. Yes, I sucked it up, found a little box, and somehow got the bird inside before putting it into a plastic bag and throwing it away. The whole time I'm wondering if that crazy cat is going to leave me anymore nasty presents.

So far, so good. My mom tells me that I should mentally thank the cat then gently insist that she not leave me anything else. I hope it works.

On another note, yesterday I had an appointment with a company called Fitness Wave to get dunked. You see, they have a mobile unit where you can get immersed in a little warm pool and find out your body fat percentage. The truck was parked right outside the Gold's Gym in Redondo Beach when I headed in. Interesting procedure. And, suffice it to say that I was pleased with the results. Check it out for yourself at getdunked.com. And, if you decide to do it, be sure to use the coupon on their appointment page to get $10 off. If that payment page is not secure (it wasn't when I signed up), just call them to pay over the phone and use the coupon code.

Finally, last night, I went to the TV Academy panel for the show "Heroes." I'd never watched before, and sadly, I don't have the time to add an hour-long drama to my repertoire. But, I must say it's very well-written and acted, and it has some hotties in the cast. I hope they can keep it going...these types of shows sometimes have a hard time maintaining momentum (see: "Lost," "Alias," "Desperate Housewives.")

Just two more days till my birthday...

Spinning Virgin No More

Today I took my first ever spinning class, at YAS - Yoga and Spinning, which is right on Abbot Kinney, just walking distance away from where I live. It was challenging and I sure did sweat a lot. But, I haven't been good about packing up my bike and riding in Griffith Park, so spinning was just what I needed. Especially with a triathlon coming up. I'm thinking of investing in more classes...we'll see. I've been taking private swimming lessons (working on technique), and my usual pilates semi-privates, and these things add up -- moreso when you're income-challenged like I am at the moment.

Two nights ago, I went out to the Barnes and Noble at the Grove for Victoria Rowell's book signing. The book is titled "The Women Who Raised Me," and so far it's a great read. Anyway, back to the reading....packed house! And VR's friends -- Kimberly Elise, Debbie Morgan, Kasi Lemmons, the ex-Mrs. Babyface and Shaun Robinson of Access Hollywood -- just to name a few, came out in full force to support. And, as you can imagine, they all looked mahvelous!

An Evening with "Entourage"

On Wednesday night, I went to the TV Academy in NoHo for "An Evening with Entourage." The entire cast, creators and producer were all there to talk about the show -- after a screening of the latest episode (36: Dog Day Afternoon).

I dig everything about this show (although, if I had to pick the weakest link, it would be the Vince character. He's kinda boring, but Adrian Grenier is so pretty it's kind of easy to forgive that), and now I appreciate it even more. Random observations:
- I had to wonder if Kevin Dillon and Jerry Ferrara are good actors or just good at playing themselves. Sadly, I'm leaning towards the latter
- I love the whole idea of "Mrs. Ari." She rocks.
- How cool is it that Rex Lee worked as a casting assistant before landing the gig as Lloyd? How even cooler is it that he didn't quit that day job until 2006??!! Talk about being unaffected...
- I don't care how much of a douchebag Jerry Piven is; I love me some Ari. Plus, Pivs earned some serious cool points with me after his pilgrimage to India with The Travel Channel.

All this love for the show, but I don't have any plans to subscribe to HBO. I actually like getting the DVDs and watching the series like one long movie.

The next Academy panel coming up is for the show "Heroes." I don't watch it, but maybe if I'm wowed by the screening episode I might be tempted to check it out.

A Curse on Michael Holt of Heaven Films

So, on the night of the full moon in February, I decided to brighten my spirits by going for a mani-pedi in Santa Monica. The street traffic was really heavy that night, due to a backup on the 405...yes, it was a Friday night, but I hadn't seen the traffic that bad before.

Anyhoo, I'm headed down 5th street, and am almost at Wilshire, when a white compact car appears out of nowhere and smashes right into me. A guy was trying to turn left out of a parking lot and decided to get aggressive and gun it across traffic. Too bad he wasn't looking where he was going. Anyway, it happened at low speed, so we were both ok. He apologized profusely and owned up to his own stupidity. Then, he said he was driving a rental, so there was no insurance info to exchange. I got his driver license number and cell phone -- he told me he was a commercial director who was constantly between London and L.A., and that he was eager to pay for the damage to my car out of pocket.

The next day, I went to my mechanic and got an estimate for $1400(!). I let Michael know, and he told me that sounded about right. He was off on location but promised he'd wire the money to me.

Until, that is, he realized he was having some sort of financial crisis. Seems he was waiting on a client to pay him, blah, blah. This continued "I want to pay you and will as soon as I can." And, the fucker had the nerve to keep text messaging me instead of just sending email or calling. Note to everyone: please do not assume that everyone pays for the monthly "unlimited text message" feature with their cell phone. I don't.

Just before I hit the two month mark, I let Mr. Holt know that I was giving him a deadline to pay me before I notify my insurance. This is what he emails me back:
"I definately understand your concern.
Truthfully, I want to take care of this on my own
because I was not carrying liability insurance for the
U.S. at the time and had stupidly only purchased
insurance to cover the rental car.

I'm still struggling but expecting some income any
day. I'll keep you posted and will contact you in the
next few days again regardless.

Do what is best for you but I promise, I won't not pay
you for the damage. I just need a little more time. I
haven't been in this kind of money crunch for 10 years
and it really bites but I will be back in the black
soon with some new lessons learned. I'm so sorry.

Michael"

Just my luck that some broke-ass guy would hit my car. And no, he didn't get back to me.

So, on April 2nd, I notified my insurance company. Who notified me that I would be responsible for paying my deductible until they can successfully get the money from the rental company's insurance.

Of course, when I email Mr. Holt asking for the name of the rental company I get nothing. So, now, I'm calling each rental company with the info I have on him to try to narrow them down. What a fucking nightmare.

Anyway, lesson learned. No matter how reputable or cognizant of karma anyone seems, get every bit of information you need at the accident site. Call the cops if needed. And, if someone driving a rental car hits you, for goodness sake, get the tag number of the car in question.

Michael Holt, wherever you are, I hope you get what you deserve.

Sunrise on Easter Morning

For as long as I can remember, I've spent my Easter mornings welcoming the dawn at the annual Sunrise Service at the Hollywood Bowl, and yesterday was no different. I'd planned to get to bed early, so that I'd have no problem getting out of the house by 4 a.m., but, I got all caught up watching "The Ten Commandments" on ABC on Saturday night as I dozed on the couch, and the next thing I knew it was 1 a.m.

I did get up and get to Hollywood by 5, and sat in a box. It was actually pretty mild out, and by the time the service started, the birds were tweeting pretty loudly. The service usually isn't the most polished, but I enjoy it and being in one of my fave outdoor spots. The weather has been overcast, so there wasn't that beautiful and dramatic breaking of the first rays that makes the service so much more ethereal, but it was still very nice.

And the best thing of all, I'm back in my car by 7ish. My friend and I went for a nice, meandering breakfast (it was too early for brunch!) at The Coffee Table in Silver Lake. I was home by about 11.

I spent the rest of day on the couch with Turner Classic Movies and the Ion Network -- "Easter Parade," "King of Kings," and some classic eps of "Battlestar Gallactica." BG was such a ripoff of "Star Wars" in every way, down to the opening credits of the pilot episode. Fun fact: Rick Springfield played the doomed brother of Apollo who the Cylons shoot down in the first episode.

But, back to Easter. The older I get, the more emotional the whole story becomes for me. And, call me naive or uninformed, but I just don't get the whole argument that the Jews were responsible for Jesus's death. Any way you slice it, the Romans and their horribly destructive "holy" empire are the ones who carried out the deed. My goodness, those people were E-VIL. Anyway, I've come to the point in my life where I'd like to learn more of the Bible, so I'm going to attempt to read it. As far as I'm concerned, it would be the equivalent of reading Bulfinch's Mythology or The Iliad/Odyssey; isn't that what all those holy books are anyway -- fables, parables and myths that offer a blueprint for living? However, it would be nice to be able to participate in informed debate anytime someone trots out bible passages or hopes to use them to back up their ignorance and hatred. But, I digress.

Time to get back to writing.

Oh, Henry!

This past weekend, DirecTV ran a free preview of "The Tudors," the new series on Showtime starring Jonathan Rhys Meyers. As I was doing what I usually do on Saturday nights (lounging on the couch in front of the tele; I'm not keen on going out Fri-Sat evenings), I partook of said preview. Compelling stuff, and I must say that JRM is so pretty to look at, even with that stone-cold masochistic gaze. He's perfected a "smug royal" snare that is without equal.

Anyhoo, the preview was just a morsel to whet the appetite: "edited" down. I got hooked, and hopeful that I'd found a new show to replace my beloved "Footballers Wives" -- nudity, cussing and trashy sex included. But alas, I don't see myself signing up for premium channels anytime in the near future.

Coincidentally, I received my first "For Your Consideration" package for TV Academy members last week...it just so happened to be from Showtime. And guess what it included? SIX whole eps of "The Tudors" -- woo to the hoo!!!

I watched episode three last night, and I have to say I love everything about this series. I have developed a fascination for the horrible little details of Henry VIII's reign that has me spending good time on the Wikipedia.

If anyone out there needs fuel against the whole "defense of marriage" campaign, learn your history of the monarchy. You'll realize that marriage was nothing more than a way to transfer land, form alliances and perpetuate business dealings. Imagine "bethrothing" your little girl to her first cousin at age 12 just to keep peace in the family and maintain a hold on a good part of the continent? Knowing that her old hubby would most likely be getting his kicks from her ladies in waiting and she would most likely be exerting p-control over a jester, duke or lower lord? Sick much? And, let's not even talk about the hypocritical money-grubbing fucks who were making names for themselves in the church. This was "civilized" society?

Sounds like Henry was a sort of renaissance man/rock star in his youth -- you know, before he turned into the bloated, crazy-ass fat man shoving turkey legs down his gullet. But, the guy never had a conscience. How can you go from being in love in someone to cutting off her head, just for spite? Henry was granted annulments for a few of his marriages (he broke with the Vatican so that this wouldn't be a problem), so in the end he didn't have to have all those women beheaded. But, Henry had bloodlust. I read somewhere that during his reign, more than 72,000 people were executed (not only decapitated but also, *gulp* "drawn and quartered")...YIKES!

He may have been a first-class wanker, but if he looked anything like Jonathan Rhys Meyers during his youth, I'd almost be tempted to cut Ol' Henry some slack. Almost.

http://www.sho.com/site/tudors

Lazy Sunday

It was another beautiful, but very lazy Sunday. I didn't make it to the Farmer's Market, didn't even make it to the pool for an afternoon swim; I did, however, eventually make it into the shower -- at about 4 p.m., tho.

A friend of mine was having an informal get-together in the late afternoon/early evening. I headed over there after first stopping to get a pedi.

It was a fun, mellow time with some nice convo sitting around the living room. Two of his guests (a married couple) talked about being actors. I thought the guy looked familiar and thought that perhaps we'd met before, but then I realized I probably just noticed him from TV.

After I got home it finally hit me where I knew him from -- the show 24. He played the character of Tony Almeida. Of course I sighed with relief that I didn't make a disparaging remark about the show, because we were having a convo about good/bad TV programs...

Looks like I've finally learned how to conduct myself in mixed company ... a necessary skill when you live where I do!

I've Gotta Tri

Last night, I went to a training seminar at the REI store in Santa Monica. It was put on by the folks at Danskin about the Womens' Triathlon Series they do across the country each year. I've decided to put that USAT membership I bought last year to good use and sign up!

It's a sprint tri (1/2 mile swim; 12 mile bike; 5K run) which takes place at Bonelli Park in San Dimas on the weekend of June 2nd. That gives me a little more than 8 weeks to train, so I'll start getting serious with my swims this week.

Danskin's coach- an impressive 60-year-old athlete with many books, triathlons, ultramarathons and Ironman tris under her belt- said that we should decide why we're doing the race before committing to it. I'm doing this race because I love the thrill of being considered an actual athlete at this point in my life. I'm also doing it because I'm eager to step up my swimming and prove that I can work around my challenges (lower back pain; degenerating disks). But, my inspiration to get to that finish line is the memory of my Aunt Rosemary, who recently lost her fight with cancer, and the support and admiration for my old J-School classmate, Kelley Tuthill, who's hunkering down and determined to beat breast cancer; the thought of them will keep me going.

This is a great race for first-timers. If you're at all jonesin' to find your inner athlete (and if you can see yourself joining a committed community of super-fit people with great-looking bods), tri it .. you might like it! http://danskin.com/raceinfo.html

Reflections on Venice

I've been living in the little yellow guest cottage in Venice for about 15 months now. I go through periods of ambivalence about it -- I love the proximity to the beach; the proximity to the great restaurants, shops and scene of Abbot Kinney Blvd.; the fact that I'm living around "my people," as opposed to the very vanilla, very homogeneous Santa Monica (which I do still love); the arty, eclectic vibe of the place (this is, after all, the birthplace of the Doors), and the community spirit.

I can do without the gang activity, the drug deals that go down in broad daylight on my street, the ghetto mentality of some residents (I can never be sure what large piece of furniture or trash will be dumped in the alley), and the equally abhorrent fortress mentality of people who want to live in this area yet not have to deal with any of its regular, day-to-day residents.

I was down on Venice and ready to pack up and leave right before the holidays, when I was positive the universe had an East Coast gig and move in store for me. But now that I've been given the chance to really take a breath and live like a "woman of leisure" here (albeit a cash-poor one), I'm loving my neighborhood. I dig my neighbors, the old-timers who keep an eye on things on my block, and the great architectural diversity -- walks in my 'hood are never dull. Yes, I have witnessed a girlfight; warm nights and large tents erected in the parking lots of the apartment buildings in the area mean Spanish-language music will be played at high levels into the wee hours; graffiti tags show up on fences and other defiled bits of personal property from time to time, and the police presence is palpable (especially every once in a blue moon when a chopper is searching the area). But, in the end, I consider Venice my home; I'm a part of this community.

I've had friends visit and I can't help noticing their discomfort sometimes; they're quick to lock their car doors and make comments about the questionable safety of the area. More and more, I'm realizing that the fear is not of scary-looking drug dealers or derelicts; it's just plain ol' black people that make them nervous. Where I see a neighbor just going about his business, they see a fearsome, suspicious black man. Where they see a potential drug dealer sporting dreadlocks, I see my soft-spoken, quite intellectual neighbor. Where they see a "ghetto dweller," I see an old-time Venice resident not quite ready or able to afford upgrades on the 50-year-old family home in a way to keep up with the luxury car-driving newbies and their Wallpaper-worthy architectural remodels.

Many of my friends are not used to seeing more than one or two black people at a time (and then, they're the non-threatening kind that act, speak and dress just like them), so the thought of a whole area populated by black folks like Oakwood, my section of Venice, is almost unfathomable. Depressing -- especially in a city that's supposed to be so mixed -- but true.

Despite that, and in spite of the fact that I do miss and love Los Feliz/Holllywood/Silverlake, Venice is now a part of me. The other day I was daydreaming about the house I'd want to buy in the area on the other side of Abbot Kinney when I hit it big. That was a turning point -- up until now my dream house was in the Hollywood Hills.

I think Venice and I have a long, meaningful relationship ahead.

Seed of the Sea

I met a friend for a relaxing tonic and some convo at Elixir Tonics and Teas on Melrose yesterday. For some reason, I decided to forgo the "Virtual Buddha" and even the very effective "Blues Buster" and get a "Chi-Devil" - the flavorful womens' sensuality tonic.

Anyhoo, before heading back to the Westside, we ducked into the newish shop next door- a high-end erotica emporium named Coco de Mer. It's the American outpost of a British shop owned by Dave Stewart of the Eurythmics and the Roddicks of The Body Shop, named for the rare and erotic palm seed found on the Seychelles.

It's a beautiful and well-done space, and with sex toys and accoutrements artfully arranged, like a museum exhibit. The place smelled amazing and is a fantastic space to host an event.

I made one little purchase -- nope, not a harness, glass dildo or a guide to flogging - I bought a beautiful little edition of Neruda's Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, with illustrations by Picasso. I adore Neruda's poetry.

Coco de Mer has a website at: www.cocodemerusa.com, and a members-only online area with naughty (but very tastefully done) features.

The Thea-tuh

I went to see "Speed the Plow" at the Geffen Playhouse on Sunday. The tickets were free -- comped to the CMU West Coast Drama Alumni Clan -- so I claimed a couple for the 7 p.m. show. Wouldn't you know...the seats were in the front row. Yep, Alicia Silverstone, Greg Germann and Jon Tenney were practically in my lap -- within spitting distance!

The show was quite good. Very entertaining. I was very impressed by the sets (??!) as well.

I've been seeing Mr. Germann (of Aly McBeal fame) at the pool, also doing laps in the afternoons. I'm not going anywhere with this thought, just figured I'd mention it.

And speaking of pools/swimming, I'm planning on seeing "Pride" this weekend. Might also go to a TV Academy screening of "Wild Hogs," but not sure yet.

Woo to the Hoo!

Got my Police ticket today. Staples center, June 20, section 108, row 19, seat 10. Giddyap!

Buy the Book

I'm a featured "Go-to Girl" for travel advice in "A Virgin's Guide to Everything: From Sushi to Sample Sales - A Novice's Handbook to Doing it Right" (Lauren McCutcheon, 5SPOT, 2006), so I got tapped to co-host a recent "Virgin's Guide" event. The theme was Spring Break beauty and the location was the L'Oreal Paris flagship store at the Beverly Center. The event happened right on the Ides of March (15th), and it was a smashing success. A wonderful group of women turned out, enjoyed the food, drink and makeovers. Everyone looked amazing when the L'Oreal team was done with them.

If you haven't visited the L'Oreal Paris store, it's worth a visit. The products are great and the prices are unbelievably low. The "Light Pod" is not to be missed either. It's a small, enclosed space that can emulate the light of a variety of situations (indoor, fluorescent, bathroom), as well as hot spots around town (Dolce, Geisha House) and Hollywood-specific scenarios (red carpet!). It's an amazing innovation.

Anyhoo, this partnership -- and perhaps my burgeoning part-time career as a Go-to Gal -- is all due to the book. If you haven't seen it yet, click on the book cover or the Amazon link on the right.

Now, back to my novel! Forty days and counting till I hope to have it done...

That's My Shmoop!

I recently went to visit with my parents in NY for a week. The highlight was getting to spend quality time with my 12-month old niece. Here, she's eating (a fave pasttime) and dancing (a hobby?). She even does a bit of vocalizing. She's a hoot.