The elevator guy came and fixed the elevator today. Then Jim and Big Eric rode down with him to the first floor and they let him leave the building. I would’ve chained him to the elevator until we moved all our stuff in. But no, Jim and Big Eric let him go, then came back up to our floor, at which point the elevator broke again. Did I mention that we don’t have Internet access at our new pad yet? If I want the Internets, I have to navigate seven flights of stairs and two blocks to my old pad or Lost Souls. With all those obstacles, you’d think I’d have something more substantial to say other than I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.
At least we have DirecTV. So after a full day of writing and not moving my stuff in because our elevator still isn’t working, I watch television. We also have two DVRs for optimum TV watching capabilities. What have I been watching? With the exception of Psych and Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, nothing but guilty pleasures. Entourage, which I'm sure everyone already knows about, is one show I don't miss. But the silliest show of them all, the one that makes me scream, is Pants Off Dance Off. You've probably never heard of it, but it's brilliant. All sorts of people, all ethnicities, young old, gay, straight, male, female - they go in-studio to dance to their favorite video, while they take their clothes off. They also run a commentary by the stripping dancer. They compete against others doing the same, and you can vote via phone or online. Just before they strip down to their naughty bits, they stop the video and direct them online to see the final reveal. Brilliant. I think I watched six hours of it.
With the new fall lineup just around the corner, I need to figure out what I'm going to watch this season, what I'll TiVo, which new shows I'll consider, etc. After all, you never when you're going to find another Pants Off Dance Off.
I Netflixed the pilot for Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip and loved it. Amanda Peet and Matthew Perry are very funny, the characters are well-drawn, and the writing is very snappy. I really miss West Wing, but hopefully this will help me get over it. So with Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations on the Travel Channel, my Monday night is set. Tuesday night I just might give Friday Night Lights a chance. I loved the movie, saw it about 30 times. I don't know why, I'm a sucker for inspirational sports movies (Rudy, Remember the Titans, Brian's Song, Major League 1 & 2, Bad News Bears, The Benchwarmers)
Of course, Lost remains on my viewing schedule. J.J. Abrams is brilliant. He creates such rich, compelling characters, from all the kids in Felicity, to Sydney et al in Alias, and to damn near everyone on the island. I don't speculate about the meaning or delve too deeply into the show. For me, it’s just pure escapist fun.
But when it comes to escapism and guilty pleasures, I think Fashion House and Desire take the cake. Long ago, back in the 90’s, my friends would gather on a Monday night and watch Melrose Place together. In the 80's, it was Dallas and Falcon Crest. I haven’t watched soap operas in years, but every now and then I’ll watch Korean, Filipino and Hispanic telenovelas with the sound off. Now, MyNetworkTV is programming telenovelas for American audiences with the launch of Fashion House starring Bo Derek and Morgan Fairchild and a second show, Desire, starring pretty people you’ve ever heard of. I've seen the pilot (through a friend who works at Fox) for both shows and funny enough, both shows start with two people in bed the morning after having had raucous sex. While Desire has guns, a Mafia plotline, and things blowing up, Fashion House has Bo and Morgan in at least three catfights. Meow.
I need to get out more.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
day 3 - elevator still inoperable
Jim and I didn’t want to deal with finding our kitchen stuff, so yesterday we ventured out into our new neighborhood for breakfast. We’d been there countless times before, but since we’re in much closer proximity, Angelique Cafe is our new neighborhood café. We sat out on the patio enjoying the lazy morning, our bustling neighborhood, and the yummy food.
Halfway through our meal, I noticed someone taking a lot of camera equipment out of his car parked at the loading zone. “Hey Jim, isn’t that Gary Leonard?” I asked between heaping mouthfuls of Croque Madame. Jim stopped chewing on his prosciutto sandwich long enough to take a long look at Gary and say, “Yeah.” As if on cue, Gary came over and said hi and mentioned the pictures were to accompany a review of Angelique for the Downtown News.
We chatted about the fate of the Alexandria Hotel, the changes that I’ve noticed just in the short time since the sale, and the pictures I want to take of the place before I leave, before they change everything. Gary snapped pics of Jim dining against the backdrop of Angelique Café’s window. I hope some of those pictures end up in the paper this Friday. I took some pics with my phone, but I still haven't figured out how to get them onto my computer.
Halfway through our meal, I noticed someone taking a lot of camera equipment out of his car parked at the loading zone. “Hey Jim, isn’t that Gary Leonard?” I asked between heaping mouthfuls of Croque Madame. Jim stopped chewing on his prosciutto sandwich long enough to take a long look at Gary and say, “Yeah.” As if on cue, Gary came over and said hi and mentioned the pictures were to accompany a review of Angelique for the Downtown News.
We chatted about the fate of the Alexandria Hotel, the changes that I’ve noticed just in the short time since the sale, and the pictures I want to take of the place before I leave, before they change everything. Gary snapped pics of Jim dining against the backdrop of Angelique Café’s window. I hope some of those pictures end up in the paper this Friday. I took some pics with my phone, but I still haven't figured out how to get them onto my computer.
Monday, August 28, 2006
going, going, not yet gone
The elevator in our new pad isn't working. Seven flights up is a long way when you've got to haul all your belongings with you. I've been chained to my laptop for the past four months, unable to work out because of crazy deadlines, so factor in having to haul an extra 15-20 pounds (overweight writer's ass) and my carpal-tunnel syndrome-plagued hands unable to grip much and you can understand why I feel like I've been hit by a truck this morning.
We moved most of Jim's stuff out, but only managed to get my bed, a few boxes and the bar out of the old penthouse. My mom came over Saturday to help me pack. She looked at something like four five-foot stacks of shoes and said, "You have a lot of shoes." Sigh. Yes, I have a lot of shoes.
Speaking of shoes, the other weekend Jim was nice enough to accompany me to the Bridal Expo at the convention center. I went in hopes of being picked to participate in the Cake Dive (where five women slog through a six-foot tall, four-foot wide cake to find a $5,000 diamond), but no luck. Jim said if they had picked me it would've been game over. But why shoes? At the fashion show, they offered a sapphire necklace to the first guy onstage wearing a pair of women's shoes on their feet. So Jim threw his five sizes too big feet into my shoes and ran up. I wish I had a camera, Jim was hilarious. So now I have a sapphire necklace and stretched-out shoes. Thank you Jim!
And a big thank you to our friends who helped with the move - Albert and Lisa, James, Angel, Wayne, Tastypants and my mom - you guys are lifesavers and we can't thank you enough.
But now, the move continues. And the elevator is still not working.
We moved most of Jim's stuff out, but only managed to get my bed, a few boxes and the bar out of the old penthouse. My mom came over Saturday to help me pack. She looked at something like four five-foot stacks of shoes and said, "You have a lot of shoes." Sigh. Yes, I have a lot of shoes.
Speaking of shoes, the other weekend Jim was nice enough to accompany me to the Bridal Expo at the convention center. I went in hopes of being picked to participate in the Cake Dive (where five women slog through a six-foot tall, four-foot wide cake to find a $5,000 diamond), but no luck. Jim said if they had picked me it would've been game over. But why shoes? At the fashion show, they offered a sapphire necklace to the first guy onstage wearing a pair of women's shoes on their feet. So Jim threw his five sizes too big feet into my shoes and ran up. I wish I had a camera, Jim was hilarious. So now I have a sapphire necklace and stretched-out shoes. Thank you Jim!
And a big thank you to our friends who helped with the move - Albert and Lisa, James, Angel, Wayne, Tastypants and my mom - you guys are lifesavers and we can't thank you enough.
But now, the move continues. And the elevator is still not working.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
the new pad
Jim and I are moving into our first pad together. It's downtown, two blocks away from Jim's pad and my current pad. It's the penthouse where we first met, where my sister was married, where we held the blood drives, where Jim drunkenly disrobed and posed for pictures wearing a towel, and where we had our engagement party a few months ago. I feel like we won the lottery.
Our dear friend and wedding coordinator Adam, the previous tenant, decided to quit his job and spend a year traveling around the world. By the way, we need a new wedding coordinator. So Adam called us with his good news and asked if we were interested in taking over his lease. We jumped at the chance, jumped through some hoops for the landlord, and yesterday, we picked up the keys to our new pad.
More to come.
Our dear friend and wedding coordinator Adam, the previous tenant, decided to quit his job and spend a year traveling around the world. By the way, we need a new wedding coordinator. So Adam called us with his good news and asked if we were interested in taking over his lease. We jumped at the chance, jumped through some hoops for the landlord, and yesterday, we picked up the keys to our new pad.
More to come.
favorite alexandria penthouse memories
I wish blogger existed back in 1991 when I first moved downtown, to South Park. Or when I first moved into the Alexandria nine years ago. I've managed to write about a few events and characters I've run across and interacted with, but it was nothing like the first few years.
We used to throw huge parties in the penthouse. Imagine having a thousand people over at your house for a party that didn't end until the sun came up. The first party I threw with my new loftmates resulted in one guy throwing himself off my roof and impaling himself on a parking meter on 5th Street. My then-boss saw him jump. A co-worker at the time was in his car, waiting to get into my parking garage when the body hit the ground. He called me and I was in my bedroom answering the phone when another co-worker ran in and said, "Celia, someone just jumped off your roof". The cops came, interviewed the witnesses, about 50 of them, in my bedroom while the party raged on outside. I asked the cops if I should break up the party. They said no emphatically, smoked my cigars and hit on my girlfriends while conducting the investigation. Multi-taskers, all of them. The last reveler left the party around 6AM. The security guard stationed outside Charley O's when the body dropped quit the next day.
We've had lots of parties since where we didn't have a body count, but that seems to be the one that people remember most. Even more than the one where about people on the dance floor took their clothes off. The security guards tried to get them to put their clothes back on, until jet-set roommate and I told them it was okay. Even more than the vintage porn projected onto neighboring abandoned buildings, people remember the party with the dead guy.
Chris the Magician moved out so that I could move in. He took his pet pig, snakes, rats, and cages full of crows with him. I remember pulling up to the curb to move stuff in, just as he was trying to get the pig in his car.
Jet-set roommate Kedric had been there almost a year when I moved in. He wasn't jet-set back then. As I wrote out the check to loftmate Bob, he promised that he wouldn't run around the place naked now that I was moving in. I assured him I didn't want him to change his behavior just on my account. I've never seen him naked. But I did hear his ex-girlfriends Emily and Helena fake orgams badly from out in the hallway, but not at the same time. Ah, Emily. Now she was crazy.
Sculptor Taft Green lived there at the time. He was always in his room, or in one of the five artists' studios, or in our living room working on a sculpture or something. I've run into Taft at the Bounty, I wonder if he gets nostalgic for the penthouse.
I'm sure more memories will come to mind as the month progresses. I'll try to scribble them down as I pack.
We used to throw huge parties in the penthouse. Imagine having a thousand people over at your house for a party that didn't end until the sun came up. The first party I threw with my new loftmates resulted in one guy throwing himself off my roof and impaling himself on a parking meter on 5th Street. My then-boss saw him jump. A co-worker at the time was in his car, waiting to get into my parking garage when the body hit the ground. He called me and I was in my bedroom answering the phone when another co-worker ran in and said, "Celia, someone just jumped off your roof". The cops came, interviewed the witnesses, about 50 of them, in my bedroom while the party raged on outside. I asked the cops if I should break up the party. They said no emphatically, smoked my cigars and hit on my girlfriends while conducting the investigation. Multi-taskers, all of them. The last reveler left the party around 6AM. The security guard stationed outside Charley O's when the body dropped quit the next day.
We've had lots of parties since where we didn't have a body count, but that seems to be the one that people remember most. Even more than the one where about people on the dance floor took their clothes off. The security guards tried to get them to put their clothes back on, until jet-set roommate and I told them it was okay. Even more than the vintage porn projected onto neighboring abandoned buildings, people remember the party with the dead guy.
Chris the Magician moved out so that I could move in. He took his pet pig, snakes, rats, and cages full of crows with him. I remember pulling up to the curb to move stuff in, just as he was trying to get the pig in his car.
Jet-set roommate Kedric had been there almost a year when I moved in. He wasn't jet-set back then. As I wrote out the check to loftmate Bob, he promised that he wouldn't run around the place naked now that I was moving in. I assured him I didn't want him to change his behavior just on my account. I've never seen him naked. But I did hear his ex-girlfriends Emily and Helena fake orgams badly from out in the hallway, but not at the same time. Ah, Emily. Now she was crazy.
Sculptor Taft Green lived there at the time. He was always in his room, or in one of the five artists' studios, or in our living room working on a sculpture or something. I've run into Taft at the Bounty, I wonder if he gets nostalgic for the penthouse.
I'm sure more memories will come to mind as the month progresses. I'll try to scribble them down as I pack.
leaving 5th and spring
After nine years of living in the penthouse of the Alexandria Hotel, I am moving. I just got a chill. Even though I'm only moving two blocks away, it feels like a much bigger move. Living here the past nine years has been such an amazing experience, full of absolute standout memories - good and bad.
Before I could blog about the impending move, I had to tell my loftmate Bob, who, according to his postcard, was in Nya Tryckeriet, Lycksele (otherwise known as Lappland). I drafted an email giving notice, then called Jim over to ask his opinion. I read the email to him and was crying by the end. I'm such a sap. Bob came back this weekend but hadn't read my email when he called yesterday. So I had to rely on my amazing powers of recall and deliver the sensitive, well-crafted and finely-honed message orally, without crying. My memory sucks. I left out most of the good stuff. But at least I didn't cry.
I turned my screenplay in to bigshot producer at 1:23AM Monday morning. Since then I've been waxing nostalgic about the penthouse and daydreaming about the other penthouse that Jim and I will soon call home. I'm sad and excited, happy and anxious about saying goodbye to this place and saying hello to the new.
Before I could blog about the impending move, I had to tell my loftmate Bob, who, according to his postcard, was in Nya Tryckeriet, Lycksele (otherwise known as Lappland). I drafted an email giving notice, then called Jim over to ask his opinion. I read the email to him and was crying by the end. I'm such a sap. Bob came back this weekend but hadn't read my email when he called yesterday. So I had to rely on my amazing powers of recall and deliver the sensitive, well-crafted and finely-honed message orally, without crying. My memory sucks. I left out most of the good stuff. But at least I didn't cry.
I turned my screenplay in to bigshot producer at 1:23AM Monday morning. Since then I've been waxing nostalgic about the penthouse and daydreaming about the other penthouse that Jim and I will soon call home. I'm sad and excited, happy and anxious about saying goodbye to this place and saying hello to the new.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
cabin fever
I need to get out of here. But I have so much work to do still. I can tell I'm fast approaching burnout - a little crispy around the edges, snarky here and there, horribly impatient, prone to violent outbursts and sometimes just not making sense. Poor Jim, no wonder he insisted (or gently nudged) that we go out for dinner last night, rather than staying in. I don't think it did me much good, but he didn't try to smother me with a pillow while I slept, so in a roundabout way I guess it did.
We're going to take a short break and go to the Downtown News' "Best of Downtown Los Angeles" party tonight. I haven't had much social interaction besides Jim lately, so testing my rusty social skills, which were dubious to begin with (some might say nonexistent), at a party with politicians, fellow bloggers, relative strangers, the press and booze is probably not a good idea. But hey, if you see a crabby-looking Asian girl with a parasol sucking down those Fire & Ice cocktails, grab me another drink and say hi.
We're going to take a short break and go to the Downtown News' "Best of Downtown Los Angeles" party tonight. I haven't had much social interaction besides Jim lately, so testing my rusty social skills, which were dubious to begin with (some might say nonexistent), at a party with politicians, fellow bloggers, relative strangers, the press and booze is probably not a good idea. But hey, if you see a crabby-looking Asian girl with a parasol sucking down those Fire & Ice cocktails, grab me another drink and say hi.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
nose to the grindstone
There's so much going on and I can't blog fast enough. A few weeks ago, my loftmate Lucas told me that the quality of my blogging lately has sucked ass. Maybe he was just upset because he thinks my blog has misrepresented his sexual orientation. But I can't help it if he photographs that way. To be fair, he's right. It has sucked. But there is an end in sight. I'm on the last rewrite for my screenplay. As soon as I turn it in, I promise I'll go back to blogging about the six-foot blonde trannie in the mini-skirt I saw walking east on 5th Street, the assholes in the Douglas Building who were throwing eggs at homeless people on their sidewalk, and Yoda sucking down margaritas and getting fisted by Ali at Cole's.
we're getting hitched at the train station
Jim and I finally picked a venue for our wedding - The Harvey House Room (scroll halfway down the page) at Union Station in downtown Los Angeles. Here's the relevant part from the description on Wikipedia:
Jim wrote more about it here with a cool picture of the interior. I'm so jazzed.
"Attached to the main building to the south is a small masterpiece, the remarkable station restaurant designed by southwestern architect Mary Colter (the last of the "Harvey House" restaurants to be constructed as a part of a passenger terminal). Although now usually padlocked and stripped of many interior furnishings, the topology of its rounded central counter dynamically thrust forward, its streamlined booths, and the inlaid floor patterns still constitute a busy and evocative sense of place. As with many Angelean locations, it has only survived by serving as an occasional filming location."
Jim wrote more about it here with a cool picture of the interior. I'm so jazzed.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
astrologist's b-day pool party at the standard
This past Saturday, the astrologist celebrated his birthday with a pool party at the Standard Hotel downtown. Jim and I picked up photographer and loftmate Lucas at the penthouse, then took a leisurely stroll to the Standard. It was much too hot to move with any sort of speed.
As soon as we go there, we made ourselves comfortable in a pod. Basically, it provided shade and we could lounge around in a very cool, waterbed of sorts. Once situated, I didn't want to move, so I depended heavily on the waitstaff and the kindness of those sharing my pod to keep me drunk. It was quite a scene so I took a few pictures, all from the relative comfort of the pod.
I didn't realize there was a gift-giving theme. Most of the presents the astrologist received were of the blow-up variety. Here's a picture of him blowing a pig.
Stephanie (the former Pat Benatar look-alike), Lucas, Jim and a waitress look on, speechless.
It seemed like everyone was on their cell phones. Typical.
Doesn't Jim look tres Hollywood in this pic?
Afterwards, we had a bite to eat in the restaurant downstairs, then it was on to Crewest for some gin and juice, turntablists, and hip-hop artwork. The rest of the birthday party went on to watch Repo Man at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, but we went to MOCA Nightvisions for the Rauschenberg show and to catch DJ Aoki and Kid Millionaire, but the highlight was watching lesbians make out by the fountain for a few hours.
Now it feels like summer is really here.
As soon as we go there, we made ourselves comfortable in a pod. Basically, it provided shade and we could lounge around in a very cool, waterbed of sorts. Once situated, I didn't want to move, so I depended heavily on the waitstaff and the kindness of those sharing my pod to keep me drunk. It was quite a scene so I took a few pictures, all from the relative comfort of the pod.
I didn't realize there was a gift-giving theme. Most of the presents the astrologist received were of the blow-up variety. Here's a picture of him blowing a pig.
Stephanie (the former Pat Benatar look-alike), Lucas, Jim and a waitress look on, speechless.
It seemed like everyone was on their cell phones. Typical.
Doesn't Jim look tres Hollywood in this pic?
Afterwards, we had a bite to eat in the restaurant downstairs, then it was on to Crewest for some gin and juice, turntablists, and hip-hop artwork. The rest of the birthday party went on to watch Repo Man at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, but we went to MOCA Nightvisions for the Rauschenberg show and to catch DJ Aoki and Kid Millionaire, but the highlight was watching lesbians make out by the fountain for a few hours.
Now it feels like summer is really here.
Monday, July 10, 2006
found my wedding dress
I'm not sure if I can carry this dress off, though.
(Thanks Helena!)
BTW, I forgot to mention that Jim and I finally threw some pictures from our engagement party online. Here they are, but the one below is one of my favorites.
(Thanks Helena!)
BTW, I forgot to mention that Jim and I finally threw some pictures from our engagement party online. Here they are, but the one below is one of my favorites.
Friday, July 07, 2006
it sucks being a responsible adult
I hope someone out there was able to make it to the free concert at the Hammer Museum earlier tonight (yesterday if you want to get technical about it) featuring my cousin Chris' band. You might have heard of them, Silversun Pickups. I had it on my calendar all week, but I got a call from Bigshot Producer - they want the rewrite muy pronto, which means Friday in Spanish. Okay, it doesn't, but I have to turn it in on Friday, which means I can't do anything until it's done.
At midnight tonight, I looked out the window and down the street towards my favorite supersecretlatenighthangout. Then the phone rang. It was Kristin, wondering if I was going to our supersecretlatenighthangout. She had already been partying, but wanted to continue. I toyed around with the idea - it's only for a few hours and I need a break anyways, I can pick up where I left off at 3am when I return from my short break. But I kept my eyes on the prize, made plans for the weekend (which she probably won't remember because she was already plastered), and went right back to work. So this is what it's like, being a somewhat responsible adult.
At midnight tonight, I looked out the window and down the street towards my favorite supersecretlatenighthangout. Then the phone rang. It was Kristin, wondering if I was going to our supersecretlatenighthangout. She had already been partying, but wanted to continue. I toyed around with the idea - it's only for a few hours and I need a break anyways, I can pick up where I left off at 3am when I return from my short break. But I kept my eyes on the prize, made plans for the weekend (which she probably won't remember because she was already plastered), and went right back to work. So this is what it's like, being a somewhat responsible adult.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
weekend wrap-up and last remaining seats
Didn't do as much of what I hoped/planned to do over the holiday weekend, what with the heat and all. I did manage to take Jim to one of my favorite restaurants that I don't go to often enough, La Serenata de Garibaldi in Boyle Heights. I had the lengua, which was so tender and delicious it almost melted in my mouth. Jim gave the thumbs up on his beef flautas, but I didn't try it, I was so engrossed with my lengua. Their sangria was so yummy that Jim switched from the also yummy (but not as much as the sangria) margarita. A couple serenaded us, with guitar accompaniment, and it was just perfect. It was a beautiful, quiet dinner on a hot Saturday night - the perfect lull before the action-packed holiday weekend festivities.
We had dinner Sunday night as planned, Shannon blogged about it. Monday night, we went to the Hollywood Bowl for their 4th of July fireworks show and I managed to make it through special guest Kenny Loggins' performance (even though he didn't sing "Danger Zone" from Top Gun) and the loud, rude, disruptive members of the audience without my brain exploding or physical altercations. Jim said the Bowl's website said no cameras, so I wasn't able to practice taking pictures of fireworks, but everybody else and LA Voice ignored it and took pictures anyway. On Tuesday we caught a matinee of The Devil Wears Prada - Meryl Streep was wonderful, as was Stanley Tucci, and despite some minor annoyances in the story, I really enjoyed it. Then it was on to feasting and fireworks at Gabrielle and Jim's pad. Yeah, it was a good weekend.
Tonight, Jim and I are going to watch Rebel Without A Cause at the Los Angeles Theater, the last show in the season for the LA Conservancy's Last Remaining Seats.
This is the Palace Theater, taken while standing in line a few weeks ago.
This is the Los Angeles Theater, taken across the street while standing in line for the Harold Lloyd comedies at the Palace Theater.
This is the interior, taken during the screening for The Mask of Zorro.
Tonight's show is sold out, so you're out of luck if you didn't get your tix early. It's also the last night of Nights On The Town, where various downtown eateries and bars offer pre-theater dining deals and discounts. I better get going or we'll be late for dinner.
We had dinner Sunday night as planned, Shannon blogged about it. Monday night, we went to the Hollywood Bowl for their 4th of July fireworks show and I managed to make it through special guest Kenny Loggins' performance (even though he didn't sing "Danger Zone" from Top Gun) and the loud, rude, disruptive members of the audience without my brain exploding or physical altercations. Jim said the Bowl's website said no cameras, so I wasn't able to practice taking pictures of fireworks, but everybody else and LA Voice ignored it and took pictures anyway. On Tuesday we caught a matinee of The Devil Wears Prada - Meryl Streep was wonderful, as was Stanley Tucci, and despite some minor annoyances in the story, I really enjoyed it. Then it was on to feasting and fireworks at Gabrielle and Jim's pad. Yeah, it was a good weekend.
Tonight, Jim and I are going to watch Rebel Without A Cause at the Los Angeles Theater, the last show in the season for the LA Conservancy's Last Remaining Seats.
This is the Palace Theater, taken while standing in line a few weeks ago.
This is the Los Angeles Theater, taken across the street while standing in line for the Harold Lloyd comedies at the Palace Theater.
This is the interior, taken during the screening for The Mask of Zorro.
Tonight's show is sold out, so you're out of luck if you didn't get your tix early. It's also the last night of Nights On The Town, where various downtown eateries and bars offer pre-theater dining deals and discounts. I better get going or we'll be late for dinner.
Friday, June 30, 2006
4th of july weekend plans
As always, there are a ton of things to do over the holiday weekend. I don't think I have the energy (I wilt in the heat) or the time to do it all and there is an awful lot of good programming on the telly and radio this weekend, but it's good to have goals.
I mentioned in an earlier post that Firecracker is kicking off the weekend with a summer block party tonight. I'm feeling really lazy though, so maybe just a movie? There's a 21+ screening for The Devil Wears Prada at the Arclight. Jim and I were supposed to go to a screening on the Fox lot earlier this week for The Devil and I was bummed that we missed it, but I wonder if I'll have the energy to leave the block (or Jim's sofa) and do anything tonight.
Saturday morning, if I wake up early enough and it's not too hot, I might check out the free, once-a month drum circle at the Music Center Plaza, Drum Downtown. But it always seems like the kind of thing that I'd be interested in for about five minutes, then I'm bored and wondering why I even left an air-conditioned room. Chances are, we'll just head over to Pho Siam Thai Spa for yet another wonderful Thai massage. Jim and I started working out again this week and we promised ourselves if we were good and worked out every day for a week, we'd reward ourselves with a massage. I started going to Pho Siam when they were in Hollywood, but now that they've moved downtown, I think they'll be seeing more of me and Jim. Then if I'm not too exhausted from the heat of the day, we might check out Bootie, LA's monthly mashup bootleg party at The Echo (it's their one-year anniversary!).
Sunday night means it's the 4th of July edition of the loftmates and friends dinner at the penthouse. Tim is back from Virginia this Saturday and he's grilling up a storm. I'm making sangria (red and white) and haven't decided what to do about dessert yet. I don't think I'm going to make it to the gym on Monday morning.
Monday night, we'll be at a picnic, then checking out the concert and fireworks display at the Hollywood Bowl. I love the fireworks show at the Bowl, I've never been disappointed. The show is sold out and I just found out that the special guest for the evening is Kenny Loggins. Yeah, whatever. I think my favorite show was the year Charles Nelson Reilly was the special guest, now he was crazy.
Then for the big event (4th of July), we're headed over to a friend's house for some down-home pyrotechnical displays. I think they live in a city that allows fireworks, so we might stop by a stand and get a box of sparklers.
Whew, I'm exhausted just contemplating the possibilities this weekend. One of my readers, Dan Dupill (who heads up the Rare Books Dept at the Central Library), was nice enough to send me a link with info on taking pictures of fireworks. Thanks Dan, I need all the help I can get. Jim must think that as well, he sent me this link. I'm going to practice taking pictures of fireworks so that when Jim and I go back to Vancouver for the Celebration of Light, I'll be ready. Have a safe and happy 4th of July everybody!
I mentioned in an earlier post that Firecracker is kicking off the weekend with a summer block party tonight. I'm feeling really lazy though, so maybe just a movie? There's a 21+ screening for The Devil Wears Prada at the Arclight. Jim and I were supposed to go to a screening on the Fox lot earlier this week for The Devil and I was bummed that we missed it, but I wonder if I'll have the energy to leave the block (or Jim's sofa) and do anything tonight.
Saturday morning, if I wake up early enough and it's not too hot, I might check out the free, once-a month drum circle at the Music Center Plaza, Drum Downtown. But it always seems like the kind of thing that I'd be interested in for about five minutes, then I'm bored and wondering why I even left an air-conditioned room. Chances are, we'll just head over to Pho Siam Thai Spa for yet another wonderful Thai massage. Jim and I started working out again this week and we promised ourselves if we were good and worked out every day for a week, we'd reward ourselves with a massage. I started going to Pho Siam when they were in Hollywood, but now that they've moved downtown, I think they'll be seeing more of me and Jim. Then if I'm not too exhausted from the heat of the day, we might check out Bootie, LA's monthly mashup bootleg party at The Echo (it's their one-year anniversary!).
Sunday night means it's the 4th of July edition of the loftmates and friends dinner at the penthouse. Tim is back from Virginia this Saturday and he's grilling up a storm. I'm making sangria (red and white) and haven't decided what to do about dessert yet. I don't think I'm going to make it to the gym on Monday morning.
Monday night, we'll be at a picnic, then checking out the concert and fireworks display at the Hollywood Bowl. I love the fireworks show at the Bowl, I've never been disappointed. The show is sold out and I just found out that the special guest for the evening is Kenny Loggins. Yeah, whatever. I think my favorite show was the year Charles Nelson Reilly was the special guest, now he was crazy.
Then for the big event (4th of July), we're headed over to a friend's house for some down-home pyrotechnical displays. I think they live in a city that allows fireworks, so we might stop by a stand and get a box of sparklers.
Whew, I'm exhausted just contemplating the possibilities this weekend. One of my readers, Dan Dupill (who heads up the Rare Books Dept at the Central Library), was nice enough to send me a link with info on taking pictures of fireworks. Thanks Dan, I need all the help I can get. Jim must think that as well, he sent me this link. I'm going to practice taking pictures of fireworks so that when Jim and I go back to Vancouver for the Celebration of Light, I'll be ready. Have a safe and happy 4th of July everybody!
unidentified flying kitty
I was driving south on the 5 freeway, and when I say driving I mean parked, when I saw an object hovering in the sky. Unlike most kooks who spot a UFO, I was lucky to have my camera in the car.
What does it all mean?
What does it all mean?
bits and pieces of the past week
Jim and I attended Grand Performances screening of An Inconvenient Truth last weekend. Jim thought leaving his place at 5:40pm for an 8pm screening was a little much. But we had a couple stops to make before trekking up 4th Street to California Plaza and I knew the place would be packed and that people would get there early (I was right). We stopped at the Old Bank Deli to pick up our sandwiches, then to Lost Souls for a yummy ube shake with coconut for me, otherwise known as the 5th and Spring shake, and a Nutta Budda with soymilk for Jim, otherwise known as the trainedmonkey shake. Actually, nobody but me calls an ube shake with coconut a 5th and Spring shake (same with the trainedmonkey shake), but I figured I'd plant that seed somewhere. I digress.
Highlights of the evening - Richie Sambora (introduced by Mayor Villaraigosa as "Richie, uh, Santora") and Jon Bon Jovi sang "Livin' On A Prayer", some new song I'm unfamiliar with, a chill cover of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love & Understanding", and "Wanted Dead or Alive". Oh yeah, and Al Gore introduced the documentary. Good times.
We hit the Chinese Food Festival in Chinatown on Sunday. That was a big mistake. It was something like 300 degrees, which tends to cut down on my cravings for Chinese food. Thankfully, they were screening documentaries at the Grand Star, so we had a cold one in air-conditioned comfort when it got to be too much outside. It was obvious after watching the film for a few minutes that everyone else was in there for the same reason. BTW, if you're looking for something to do this weekend, Firecracker kicks off the 4th of July tonight at the Grand Star.
I was on my way to the gym earlier this week when I spotted several squad cars on Spring. About half of the officers were wearing vests that said "Parole" and they were handcuffing and arresting about six guys right outside of Charlie O's, the bar on the corner. I remembered that my phone takes lousy pictures, so I whipped it out and snapped this:
Then one of the officers whipped out his camera and took a picture of me taking pictures of them.
Then about four or five of the officers whipped out their cameras and started snapping away at me. Whatever. So I walked over, laughing, and one of the officers, Officer Cooper, told me that they were sweeping up a bunch of parole violators and that I would now be a lot safer in my neighborhood. I still don't understand why they whipped out their cameras to shoot me shooting them. Lame.
I met with bigshot producer and his crew on Tuesday, at their swanky offices in Beverly Hills. After a little pre-meeting banter, they said liked the script. What a relief, I was preparing for some harsh notes and lots of changes. Bigshot producer had a few questions and more notes, but basically they thought the script was 90% done. One producer said we're probably about two rewrites away from locking it down, but I'm hoping I can nail it on this next round. So my respite from this insane writing assignment was short-lived and I'm back to the grind. I am, however, taking time out this weekend to get a massage and eat a lot of barbecue. But not at the same venue. Wouldn't that be something though? To get a massage while you eat barbecue?
UPDATE: The Downtown News has a story on the Skid Row busts that targeted parole violators. The end of the article has a funny story about an incident at Pete's Cafe. How come nothing like that ever happens when I'm there?
Highlights of the evening - Richie Sambora (introduced by Mayor Villaraigosa as "Richie, uh, Santora") and Jon Bon Jovi sang "Livin' On A Prayer", some new song I'm unfamiliar with, a chill cover of "(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love & Understanding", and "Wanted Dead or Alive". Oh yeah, and Al Gore introduced the documentary. Good times.
We hit the Chinese Food Festival in Chinatown on Sunday. That was a big mistake. It was something like 300 degrees, which tends to cut down on my cravings for Chinese food. Thankfully, they were screening documentaries at the Grand Star, so we had a cold one in air-conditioned comfort when it got to be too much outside. It was obvious after watching the film for a few minutes that everyone else was in there for the same reason. BTW, if you're looking for something to do this weekend, Firecracker kicks off the 4th of July tonight at the Grand Star.
I was on my way to the gym earlier this week when I spotted several squad cars on Spring. About half of the officers were wearing vests that said "Parole" and they were handcuffing and arresting about six guys right outside of Charlie O's, the bar on the corner. I remembered that my phone takes lousy pictures, so I whipped it out and snapped this:
Then one of the officers whipped out his camera and took a picture of me taking pictures of them.
Then about four or five of the officers whipped out their cameras and started snapping away at me. Whatever. So I walked over, laughing, and one of the officers, Officer Cooper, told me that they were sweeping up a bunch of parole violators and that I would now be a lot safer in my neighborhood. I still don't understand why they whipped out their cameras to shoot me shooting them. Lame.
I met with bigshot producer and his crew on Tuesday, at their swanky offices in Beverly Hills. After a little pre-meeting banter, they said liked the script. What a relief, I was preparing for some harsh notes and lots of changes. Bigshot producer had a few questions and more notes, but basically they thought the script was 90% done. One producer said we're probably about two rewrites away from locking it down, but I'm hoping I can nail it on this next round. So my respite from this insane writing assignment was short-lived and I'm back to the grind. I am, however, taking time out this weekend to get a massage and eat a lot of barbecue. But not at the same venue. Wouldn't that be something though? To get a massage while you eat barbecue?
UPDATE: The Downtown News has a story on the Skid Row busts that targeted parole violators. The end of the article has a funny story about an incident at Pete's Cafe. How come nothing like that ever happens when I'm there?
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
search terms that brought you here
In no particular order and in no way complete:
voodoo curses
bobby short charlie
downtown Los Angeles
ye olde taco house
David Hasselhoff video
technology challenged
tomkat theater blog
hooked on a feeling video
millionaire Filipino restaurants in states
pictures of Spiderman
you say ozo
Schmucklerfest
Natalie Mains
asspig
Ben Stiller
midget on a wall
pet casting calls
Spiderman 3 shoot
February bank robbery California 2002
roller derby clothing
college party fifth
Julius Shulman
open container on JetBlue
Hollywood Sexcapades
homemade 4th of July centerpiece
Ozomatli, si se fue
neighborhood clothing
and my personal favorite, "fuck my girlfriend"
voodoo curses
bobby short charlie
downtown Los Angeles
ye olde taco house
David Hasselhoff video
technology challenged
tomkat theater blog
hooked on a feeling video
millionaire Filipino restaurants in states
pictures of Spiderman
you say ozo
Schmucklerfest
Natalie Mains
asspig
Ben Stiller
midget on a wall
pet casting calls
Spiderman 3 shoot
February bank robbery California 2002
roller derby clothing
college party fifth
Julius Shulman
open container on JetBlue
Hollywood Sexcapades
homemade 4th of July centerpiece
Ozomatli, si se fue
neighborhood clothing
and my personal favorite, "fuck my girlfriend"
Sunday, June 25, 2006
vancouver through my lens
We made a run for the Canadian border.
And this is the closest I got to a real Canadian Mountie.
This is the view from Stanley Park.
And another view, through the trees.
I really enjoyed Stanley Park, I wish we had one like it in Los Angeles (and don't talk to me about Griffiths Park). It was so pretty, very well maintained, huge, and with tons of activities. I didn't take many Patel shots, just stuff like this:
As Jim mentioned on his blog, we enjoyed it so much we're considering going back in six weeks or so for an international fireworks festival, the Celebration of Light. Hopefully by then I will have figured out how to take pictures of fireworks displays that aren't crappy.
And this is the closest I got to a real Canadian Mountie.
This is the view from Stanley Park.
And another view, through the trees.
I really enjoyed Stanley Park, I wish we had one like it in Los Angeles (and don't talk to me about Griffiths Park). It was so pretty, very well maintained, huge, and with tons of activities. I didn't take many Patel shots, just stuff like this:
As Jim mentioned on his blog, we enjoyed it so much we're considering going back in six weeks or so for an international fireworks festival, the Celebration of Light. Hopefully by then I will have figured out how to take pictures of fireworks displays that aren't crappy.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
"zee money, yew have eet for mee"
Our second night in Vancouver, Jessica and Amy took us to dinner in Yaletown, which is a former industrial area in downtown transformed into one of the most densely populated neighborhoods in the city. I couldn't help but feel that in about ten years, downtown Los Angeles is going to feel a lot like Yaletown. I can hardly wait, because I had a blast.
We had dinner at Capone's, this Italian restaurant with great live jazz. It was at the end of a row of restaurants, clubs and bars, on top of which were some great-looking lofts. The people, food, music, ambience - everything was wonderful, a really memorable experience. At one point Jim whispered to me, "I can't wait until they open a Capone's in our neighborhood." I'm crossing all my appendages.
Right after this picture was taken, we walked out, trying to figure out whether to stay in Yaletown or hit a club in Gastown. When all of a sudden, this panhandler comes up and talks to us with a really heavy French accent, I mean Clouseau-heavy. Hell, let's blogname his Clouseau. Anyway, Clouseau approached us and I didn't understand most of his rap because of the accent. He was pushing a fairly expensive bicycle and asking for money, that much I caught. But I guess he got tired of repeating himself because he was more than a little cranky, he was now just DEMANDING money.
He was going on about something and I'm not even going to try to write it out phonetically. So for maybe the fourth time I ask, "What? I don't understand a thing you're saying." He then said, "My Eeenglish, ees bad." To which Jim replied, "No your English is great, it's your panhandling skills that suck." Not to him, mind you, just me. And I'm a little tipsy. So of course I laugh, as I often do at all his jokes regardless of how funny they really are, and Clouseau LOSES IT. In French. Although he's absolutely livid, all I can think of is the Pink Panther and Clouseau saying, "Yew have for me, ze massage?" or, "Assbucket?" So I'm laughing and Jessica comes over with her leftovers and asks me, "Does he want food? Here, give it to him." So I hand him the leftovers and he pulls back his lips to show us his gums, and with his fingers in his mouth, screams, "I haf no teef... I het yew!" (Translation: I have no teeth... I hate you!)
I should've just offered him all the cash in my pocket if he would hoist Jim up on his shoulders like the Spiderman Midget did for Skip. Now that would've been a great vacation picture.
We had dinner at Capone's, this Italian restaurant with great live jazz. It was at the end of a row of restaurants, clubs and bars, on top of which were some great-looking lofts. The people, food, music, ambience - everything was wonderful, a really memorable experience. At one point Jim whispered to me, "I can't wait until they open a Capone's in our neighborhood." I'm crossing all my appendages.
Right after this picture was taken, we walked out, trying to figure out whether to stay in Yaletown or hit a club in Gastown. When all of a sudden, this panhandler comes up and talks to us with a really heavy French accent, I mean Clouseau-heavy. Hell, let's blogname his Clouseau. Anyway, Clouseau approached us and I didn't understand most of his rap because of the accent. He was pushing a fairly expensive bicycle and asking for money, that much I caught. But I guess he got tired of repeating himself because he was more than a little cranky, he was now just DEMANDING money.
He was going on about something and I'm not even going to try to write it out phonetically. So for maybe the fourth time I ask, "What? I don't understand a thing you're saying." He then said, "My Eeenglish, ees bad." To which Jim replied, "No your English is great, it's your panhandling skills that suck." Not to him, mind you, just me. And I'm a little tipsy. So of course I laugh, as I often do at all his jokes regardless of how funny they really are, and Clouseau LOSES IT. In French. Although he's absolutely livid, all I can think of is the Pink Panther and Clouseau saying, "Yew have for me, ze massage?" or, "Assbucket?" So I'm laughing and Jessica comes over with her leftovers and asks me, "Does he want food? Here, give it to him." So I hand him the leftovers and he pulls back his lips to show us his gums, and with his fingers in his mouth, screams, "I haf no teef... I het yew!" (Translation: I have no teeth... I hate you!)
I should've just offered him all the cash in my pocket if he would hoist Jim up on his shoulders like the Spiderman Midget did for Skip. Now that would've been a great vacation picture.
5th and spring, seattle
Last weekend, Jim and I spent some time in Seattle. Along with my brother Angel, we were on our way to meet other family members in Vancouver. We opted to fly into Seattle to see my cousin Lupe, and then drive to Vancouver.
(I forgot to take a picture of the Seattle Central Library here at 5th and Spring, designed by Rem Koolhaas. I suck.)
Lupe and her boyfriend Ciaran live a few blocks away from Seattle's 5th and Spring. I was afraid when she moved to Seattle that they would wind up in some soulless apartment mega-complex, but thankfully they live in a great, funky, historic, downtown neighborhood - plenty of restaurants and cafes to walk to, dangerously close to great shops and galleries, and her building is filled with artsy types, just like her and Ciaran. Look at Angel's pictures here. This is the view outside her windows.
And down the street.
We didn't have as much time to spend in Seattle since we were on our way to Vancouver. We managed to get in a few touristy things, though.
The town has a nice vibe, I liked it more than I thought I would. We'll be back.
(I forgot to take a picture of the Seattle Central Library here at 5th and Spring, designed by Rem Koolhaas. I suck.)
Lupe and her boyfriend Ciaran live a few blocks away from Seattle's 5th and Spring. I was afraid when she moved to Seattle that they would wind up in some soulless apartment mega-complex, but thankfully they live in a great, funky, historic, downtown neighborhood - plenty of restaurants and cafes to walk to, dangerously close to great shops and galleries, and her building is filled with artsy types, just like her and Ciaran. Look at Angel's pictures here. This is the view outside her windows.
And down the street.
We didn't have as much time to spend in Seattle since we were on our way to Vancouver. We managed to get in a few touristy things, though.
The town has a nice vibe, I liked it more than I thought I would. We'll be back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
