who left the lid up?

It's Wednesday, so Jim and I walked to the Central Library Farmer's Market to get our tamale fix, pick up some fruits, some flowers, and maybe some snacks.

There's a new crosswalk at 5th and Main Streets:


Nice pattern.


I read on blogdowntown that the new automated pay toilet near Pershing Square was finally operational, but it didn't look like I'd be able to use it.


I approached the guys repairing it to ask how much longer, but they were so engrossed they didn't pay me any mind. So I eavesdropped.


Guy in green shirt on the left says, "I don't know which one needs repair."

The guy pointing, "I think it's this one."

"Why that one?"

"Because when I touched it, that's when it all went, you know."


Someone really needed to go, but it didn't look like that was going to happen at this APT. It looks like the seat retracts for cleaning and when it isn't operational.

what to do wednesday night

My friends Eli and Mary, otherwise known as The Monolators, are premiering their video and corraling other Los Angeles indie bands this Wednesday at the Echo. I hear it's going to be quite the scene. You should go.

I wish I could, but Jim and I are going to one of our favorite downtown pastimes, the Los Angeles Conservancy's 21st Annual Last Remaining Seats. The opening film is North by Northwest at the Orpheum (sold out, sorry) and there's a VIP reception and everything. Anybody else going?

'gina watch

Jim and I were in Little Tokyo for lunch today and to check on Pastagina's progress. I'm really looking forward to the day when I ask Jim what he wants for dinner, and when he says, "I want 'gina," I can say, "Hell yeah you can have 'gina for dinner!" Unfortunately, from the looks of things, the new Pinkberry on 2nd will probably open before Pastagina does.

The poster in the window says the store was scheduled to open in March 2007, their website says May 2007. Okay, they still have a little time before they blow that deadline.


What rhymes with Pastagina? Kajima!


What other downtown buildings rhyme with Pastagina?

if you barbecue, they will come

Last night as Jim and I were walking out of the DLANC Residents Ad-Hoc Filming Issues Committe Meeting (say that five times fast) at the Little Tokyo Library, we heard honking. I thought it was Ben and Dave, as they were at the meeting and had just hopped in Dave's car. Maybe they forget to tell us something at the meeting. We turned to see more downtown bloggers - Ed and Don were in a car, parking on Los Angeles Street, and honking for us to stop.

Don hopped out of the car and talked to Ben and Dave while Ed chatted with me and Jim. I was glad to see Ed, my emails to him have been bouncing back and I had more tasteless jokes to share re Pastagina. Turns out Ed hadn't rested on that downtown blogger meetup and was working with Eric on planning a barbecue. He asked what days we were available and noted our preference for a venue we could walk to. Is there a park somewhere downtown where we can barbecue? Didn't think so. Anyway, stay tuned, we will have a downtown bloggers barbecue soon!

ray's 'n shit

After hours of hanging out with my mom and other guests (Angel blogged about it and has cute pics of Jim playing) on Mother's Day, Jim and I cleaned up the loft and realized we had a lot of ice left over. Knowing it wouldn't fit in our already-overflowing freezer, we decided to mix up some daquiris and get roaring drunk. We were missing a few ingredients, so we headed over to see Ray at the Old Bank Market & Deli.

While I was sick last week, Jim picked up some orange juice and blogged about Ray's expanding into the space next door, but I hadn't seen the new space yet. I also hadn't seen Ray in a long while, so we hugged and caught up. He was so excited about the expansion and told us that in a month, he'll have everything a grocery store should have - fresh meat, vegetables, a liquor section (we found what we needed for our daquiris), etc.

Then Ray dropped the best news about downtown development that I'd heard in a long time, "You know, I also got the place across the street and the parking lot. I'm going to open a casual, full-service restaurant and turn part of the parking lot into an open-air patio." We looked across the street at the old Burgers 'N Shit, (which was also sushi 'n shit for a nanosecond). Ray was beaming as he told us of his plans, and he continued, "We're going to serve breakfast and we'll be open until midnight."


Photo courtesy of Jim Winstead

Ray was smiling from ear to ear, as he usually is, but he was so excited about his expansion into the new space and his new restaurant venture that it was contagious. I was practically jumping up and down with joy when I hugged him in congratulations. I feel safe in predicting that the patio of Ray's restaurant will be the place to dine and hang out when it opens (this summer?). I know Jim and I will be there. I can hardly wait!

more downtown filming bullshit

On Thursday, May 10th, Jim and I walked out of our building to attend the closing night ceremony of the VC Asian Pacific Film Festival (Jim blogged about it). There was a filming notification on our door for a production shooting in front of our building, in the alley behind us, and in the parking lot next door. We were going to be surrounded, and it was going to start at 6am the next morning. Less than twelve hours notice and although it said, "pending community survey", no one in our building was surveyed (I asked around).

All day Friday, May 11th, we were surrounded by a lot of noise, and although it was annoying and made it difficult for me to work all day, it got really noisy and bothersome in the afternoon. That's when they started using their smoke machines and the smoke started to come in through our windows facing the parking lot and Main Street.

I walked through the throng of extras and the off-duty LAPD officer blocking the sidewalks on Main Street and into the lot. At 5:34pm I asked the security guard if I could talk to the location manager, Bruce Boehner, 213-925-5379, and/or the FilmLA rep. The security guard said that the FilmLA rep left earlier that day at 12:30pm. I asked to see the location manager, verifying on my notification that it was Bruce Boehner, and for a copy of their film permit. He then said, "Can I take that back about the FilmLA rep leaving?"

I walked over to a guy on a walkie-talkie and asked to see the location manager. He asked me what the problem was, so I identified myself as a resident and a member of the DLANC Residents' ad-hoc Filming Issues Committee. He said he'd find the location manager or the FilmLA rep, who was supposed to be on the radio. Yeah, he just happened to not be responding. Even though two security guards verified that the FilmLA rep left about five hours earlier.

Then they started wrapping their location. Oh good, they were leaving. Except that they were leaving their cars there. Which meant that I could look forward to cars honking as they left the lot sometime around 1 or 2am. Great. There I was, standing around for a half-hour instead of working, while they pretended to care, pretended to try to locate a film permit (which is a matter of public record and a document they're supposed to have on-hand at each location), and the location manager refused to talk to me. The guy on the walkie who was supposed to locate Bruce Boehner then asked me to step out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk so that I wouldn't get in their way. Yeah, never mind how the film crew was inconveniencing the whole fucking neighborhood all day starting at 6am, and with less than twelve hours notice, I needed to stand three feet away on the other side of a fence. So I stood there and waited.

Then, at 6:11pm the guy gets in his car and drives out of the lot. Without finding the location manager or FilmLA rep. Without furnishing me with a copy of their film permit. I ask the security guard what's going on. He just shrugged. I called Jim, who I could see in our window, and asked if he had called FilmLA's office or the 24-hour emergency number. He had, but there was no answer. It didn't even go to voicemail, it just kept ringing.

Finally, a full hour after I asked, Derek the FilmLA rep walks up to me with a copy of their film permit, permit # F-205458. I asked him for the copy of the special conditions, which the permit said was "attached". He said there weren't any. I pointed out that it was supposed to be attached. I asked him, "Do you know that there are special conditions for filming in downtown?" He said, "No."

I looked through the permit and asked for a copy. He said no, that was his copy and I could just call FilmLA and ask for a copy. I told him they weren't anwering the phones at the office. He said it was after hours. I told him that we also tried calling the emergency, after-hours number and no one was responding. I told him that there were special conditions for filming downtown and that they were on his company's website and he said that he never heard of it, no one ever told him about it.

I pointed out that all the buildings surrounding this "location" were residential. He shrugged and asked what my problem was. "Besides the smoke going in my windows? And the noise? And the caterer setting up the open-air barbecue underneath our windows? How about this 6am start time on the permit? How about less than twelve hours notice?"

Derek said, "Oh, they didn't start at 6am."

I countered, "How do you know that? You didn't get to the set until after the previous FilmLA rep left at 12:30pm today. And it says right on this permit, this permit and this notification that it was a 6am start time. I didn't hear you guys setting up, but I'm on the 7th floor. The guys on the 2nd floor heard you guys set up, though." I admit I was guessing about Derek's start time, but Derek confirmed it.

I copied all the pertinent information off his film permit and then he asked for my contact info. I resisted telling him my name was Heywood Jablowme (Jim's suggestion) and gave him my real name and contact info.

Was that the end of it? No. As I predicted, when the cast/crew was done shooting at their other downtown location, they left the lot past midnight, honking and dropping metal pipes on the ground and making all sorts of noise. Never mind the other shoot on Spring Street that got Jim all riled up Friday night. But that's not the end of it.

At 2:40am, the eighth trailer pulled into the parking lot for yet another shoot. Yes, 2:40AM. I didn't walk over and ask for a copy of their film permit, so I don't know which production it was. But they're still there so I might go over later today. But I ask again, what's the point of FilmLA? Why issue film permits if they don't mean anything? What's the point of having rules for downtown area filming if their own employees don't know they exist and don't care? Why have an on-site monitor if they don't do anything when the permit is violated or when residents complain?

UPDATE: Dave blogged about the production that has bright lights shining onto Main Street and his issues with them. That's the producton that had their trailers noisily move in at 2:00am this past Saturday morning, (5/14/2007). Here's their film permit, the location manager is France Myung Fagin, (310) 447-4441, their permit number is F-205179-2, and, according to their film notification (which I never received) they plan on filming until 4am on 5/18/07, (Friday/Saturday morning). Since they didn't bother with a community survey, if anybody has a problem with that, just call them and let them know what you think.

attention downtown literati

If you don't already have your copy of Los Angeles Noir, then this is your lucky weekend. As Ed has already noted on his blog, a few of the contributing authors will be signing the well-reviewed book this Saturday at Metropolis Books. The website doesn't say which of the 17 authors will be in attendance, but a reliable source tells me that a Jim Pascoe reading is in the cards, "especially if enough of you show up and demand it!" I'll be there to get my copy signed and to demand a reading - I strongly urge readers of this blog to do the same. Maybe we can all get a drink somewhere afterwards.

Also on the same day and just around the corner from Metropolis, Crewest Gallery will be hosting a book signing for Yo! What Happened to Peace? in conjunction with their five-year anniversary festivities. This book sounds amazing - 144 full-color pages of handcrafted anti-war and pro-peace posters with more than 200 prints by 125 artists, with an introduction by punk art legend Winston Smith and a street-ready stencil cover. Prints will also be available for sale.

In addition to the signing, there will be a Unification Theory performance/event featuring the artwork of fellow Yo! artists Man One, Gustavo Garcia Vaca and Overton Loyd. Although the book signing will be from 5-7pm, there will be DJs spinning music until 10pm.

I've said it before, but I'll say it again - I love my neighborhood.

Los Angeles Noir Book Signing
Metropolis Books
440 S. Main Street (between 4th and 5th streets)
Los Angeles 90013
ph: 213.612.0174

Yo! What Happened To Peace Signing
Crewest
110 Winston St. (between Main and Los Angeles Streets)
Los Angeles, CA 90013
tel (213) 627-8272

free beer in little tokyo

Official VC Asian Pacific Film Festival after-party at the Far Bar tonight:

HK 1960 is a night celebrating the style, fashion & romance of an era that now only exists on the silver screen.

The Far Bar
347 E 1st Street
Little Tokyo, 90012

Wednesday, May 9th, 2007
Doors open 9 P.M.
Free Heineken until 10:30 P.M.

Mahjong | 60'S Pop | Vintage Polaroids

Period attire is strongly encourage. Dazzle us all.

Damn, my cheongsam is at the cleaners.

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and my personal favorite:

the whore peed on me

"in the year 2000"

Much like like CurbedLA, I dig video. Especially video that shows downtown in the future.


I used to live in South Park, which is the residential area of downtown closest to the LA Live project. When Jim and I had dinner at The Pantry the other night, I was blown away by how different my old neighborhood looked, how much construction rendered the place unrecognizable to me. I say, bring it on.

some film crews just don't change

Despite what FilmLA has posted on their website about filming downtown, it seems like some things just don't change - like commercial film crews filming wherever they want, residents and businesses be damned. I've mentioned before that we still hadn't received any notifications for recent shoots where we heard extremely loud and disturbing simulated gunfire, but here's another instance where the crew continued shooting, even after the FilmLA reps on location were notified. But of course, they were ready to hand out a few benjamins after they got their shot. The following is from Julie Rico, posted on the DLANC Residents mailing list:

Tue May 8, 2007 9:08 pm (PST)
"Today a group called Gearhead decided to shoot just outside the Red Dot Gallery Window. There is a permit called a block permit. The officer (Carr) showed it too me that allowed him to shoot wherever they want except for the arts district, chinatown and one other area. Our area was not on the exempt list. According to Carr they have not been formally told about the change in policy. Part of our agreement is now on the front page of Film LA and I brought out the paperwork so that Officer Carr could see it. He called some women over at Film LA and of course they finished their shoot, we are not on the documents anymore. I have a feeling these documents will be coming up here and there. Not cool.

I staged a protest but to no avail. Waay after the shoot some guy named Jeff came over and gave me $300. It was a Chevy commercial."

Looks like FilmLA shouldn't congratulate themselves just yet on being such good guys just because they posted conditions for filming downtown (as if it were their idea and not because of community pressure). It doesn't seem like FilmLA's word counts for much. Why am I not surprised? These guys lost their credibility with me a long time ago. Did I mention that their contract to issue film permits for the City of Los Angeles is up in June? I wonder how many complaints have to be lodged against them for someone to realize they shouldn't be awarded another contract.

has it really been that long?

Two years ago today, my sister Laura married my ex-loftmate James in what is now the loft that Jim and I live in. After the ceremony and a dessert reception on the patio, we all took a candlelit walk down the street to Cole's for the real reception.



Their wedding was so beautiful and one of the brighter moments during her 14-month battle with cancer. I look at this and other pictures, re-read what I wrote about it, and while I love seeing her so happy, I can't help but cry. I miss her so much.

"you offend me, you offend my family"

Thanks to my friends Hank and Berda, Angel and I attended a really fun VIP reception and the opening night festivities at the VC Asian Pacific Film Festival last night. Poor Jim caught some bug and stayed home. I forged ahead, but stupidly decided not to bring my camera, thinking I wouldn't need it. Luckily Berda brought hers and took the pics below (thanks Berda!).

I have mixed feelings about FINISHING THE GAME. It's a mockumentary about the search for the new Bruce Lee and while it had its moments, I don't know that I can get behind it. It's like the cool indie film your friend made, not necessarily something you'd see because it was playing near you. There were some cool cameos, some very good acting, and really great use of some of my favorite character actors. In any case, opening night was fun and you couldn't swing a dead cat over your head without hitting an actor you recognized but couldn't place. There were, of course, some exceptions.


James Kyson Lee, from HEROES and emcee of the opening night ceremonies, graciously poses with me and Berda.


Ron Jeremy, who made an appearance in FINISHING THE GAME, poses with me at the post-screening reception.



Did I mention that it was open bar?


Or that Hank was jacked up on sweets (there was a post-screening dessert reception)?


I was feeling a little under the weather, so I didn't "work the room" or anything. But minutes after we sat down in the theatre, a well-known actor/comedian (who I promised not to name) sat down in front of me. Berda and Hank sat behind us, engrossed in conversation with some programming director from another film festival. I think I was telling Angel about Pastagina when this actor/comedian turned around to see who was making all the 'gina jokes. We started talking - he was bummed because his movie just came out and "tanked horribly." I told him I didn't see his film - that I was invited to the premiere party, but not to the screening of the actual film. Who the hell does that?

Of course once people around us realized that the actor/comedian was talking to people and not being all Greta Garbo, everyone tried to jump into the fray. We both sat on the aisle, so people would come up to him and interrupt our conversation so they could suck up. In between interruptions, he'd say things like, "This is so depressing," or, "They're just trying to get something out of me, like for me to wear their shirts or shoes so they can get free advertising," and "The blogs hate me, they're the worst. They just tear me apart, saying how much I suck."

I then promised (because he was so depressed), "I won't say bad things about you on my blog."

He then asked, "Please don't write about this on your blog, or don't say it was me! I'm going to get so much shit, saying how depressed I am because the movie tanked!"

Then this white chick comes up and awkwardly tells him how she loves him and then said nothing else, but stood there staring at him intently. So I whispered in his ear, "Dude, I think she wants to fuck you." He looked at Angel, then at me, hesitating to reply. Finally the girl leaves and he says, "Maybe I should date an Asian girl."

You know, before I married Jim, I was the beneficiary of that kind of thinking. I replied, "Yeah, I used to date an Asian chick. But Asian guys never asked me out."

He replied, "Yeah, Asian chicks and Asian guys never ask me out either."

come for the booze, stay for the movie

Tonight is opening night for the Los Angeles Asian Pacific Film Festival, is anybody else going to see the opening night film or attending the party? Open bar, baby.

Things actually got underway last night with a party at the Far Bar in Little Tokyo, but I punked out and stayed home instead. I'm not sure what other films I'll be screening, but if you don't have plans, I strongly suggest you check out the festival - I've yet to be disappointed by any of the features or docs I've screened here in all the years I've attended. The shorts, however, are another story.

the new cw

This morning, I went to the DMV to get my name changed on my driver's license. It seemed like I was the only one in the joint who made an appointment. I walked in, strolled past the long-ass, no-appointment line, and went to the head of the appointments line. The clerk helped me immediately, annoying everyone standing in line next to me. I sat down with my numbered slip, looking at the monitor for my number to be called. There was a couple sitting behind me and I asked them, "Have you guys been waiting a long time?"

The woman let out a loud sigh, "Yes, forever."

"Did you make an appointment or did you walk in?"

The man shook his head, "No, we should've made one. We've been here all morning."

She asked, "What number do you have?"

I showed her my slip, she showed me hers. I seemed to be quite a ways behind them. So I fired up my iPod, inserted the earbuds and watched the drama unfold around me. Even with the earbuds in I could hear this woman screaming at a clerk, her head full of pink rollers shaking violently. I don't know how the people working there do it, I would go from zero to batshit in record time. Then the woman sitting behind me tapped my shoulder, "Isn't that your number on the screen?"

I looked up. Yeah, that's me. Damn, that was quick. I thanked her and made my way across the room. The clerk shuffled a few papers, tapped something into a computer, and then directed me to yet another window to take my picture. The woman in pink curlers was standing ahead of me in line, pulling her curlers out, complaining that she wouldn't look good in her picture because she didn't know she had to retake her picture. She finally yanked them all out and patted her hair down, yelling the whole time about trying to look good. The clerks behind the desk were poker-faced, but as soon as she left, the one taking pictures turned to her co-worker and said, "She crazy." The co-worker just shook her head and said, "That's my people."

They snapped my picture and I asked, "Does it look okay? Because I think I left a curler in." Stonefaced and ignoring a perfectly good joke, she turned the monitor around so I could see. I made a face.

"You don't like it? It looks cute."

I shrugged, figuring they weren't going to do a reshoot "Eh."

I turned and walked away, but I was only ten feet away when I heard them laughing and they called me back.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No, we just got your joke," they laughed. "Do you want to take your picture again?"

So they took another picture and I asked, "How does it look?"

She didn't even bother to turn it around. "Exactly the same."

Right after lunch I dealt with getting my name changed on my passport. Since my old one was issued less than a year ago, there's no charge for changing my name. But for whatever reason, it took three employees to get my re-application together. So helpful. Then I was asked to sign the application, raise my right hand, and swear everything on the application was true. I picked up the pen to write, but then I hesitated, "Sign using which name? The new one or the old one?"

"The new one, baby. That's your only name now."

weekend full of jim

I can't believe it's already Tuesday and I still haven't told you about my weekend. Jim has been telling me for ages (ok, a little over a year) about this donut place near Harvey Mudd (his alma mater) that has amazing donuts filled with fresh strawberry goodness. So after sitting on this information for too long, I got it in my mind that we had to go this past Saturday. Jim agreed. So I call Angel and tell him we're all going to Glendora for strawberry donuts.



It took us an hour, but Jim the Donut Man was worth leaving downtown for. Those strawberry donuts? It was like strawberry and glazed donut sex in my mouth. I also tried the bavarian cream, which was like creamy filling and chocolate-glazed donut sex in my mouth. The tiger tails were good, too. I don't remember what happened after that.



Then on Sunday night, we had Jim (fresh from the FOB to promote his book, LA Noir) and Gabrielle over for dinner, to thank them once again for guest-blogging and loft-sitting for us while we were in Hawaii. My Jim made margaritas using our new blender (thanks Jeff!), we caught up on each other's lives, barbecued some Hawaiian chicken and sesame salmon, they watched Sopranos, and Reverend Jim schooled me on graphic novels and comic books. Thanks again Jim and Gabrielle, for keeping the loft and the blog safe.

I don't think we can allow anymore people named Jim, James, or Angel into our lives, not unless they have a nickname, like Tastypants. Then it's okay. Otherwise, it's getting too confusing.

we're #1

The American Lung Association just released their list of the most polluted cities in the country and Los Angeles is number one on the list of Metropolitan Areas Most Polluted by Short-term Particle Pollution, number one on the list of Metropolitan Areas Most Polluted by Year-Round Particle Pollution, and lastly, number one on the list of 25 Most Ozone-Polluted Cities.

Downtown Los Angeles may be the third bloggiest neighborhood in the country, but we're number one in breathing air that sucks. Whooo! I love LA! From the American Lung Association's website:

The American Lung Association State of the Air 2007 report grades communities across the nation based on the number of days they have unhealthful levels of air pollution. The grades come from the color-coded alert system called the Air Quality Index, which may be familiar from newspaper, radio, television and on-line weather forecasts.

march through downtown

It's so noisy downtown, what with all the news helicopters flying around trying to get a good shot of the May 1st rally for workers and immigrants' rights. There's all sorts of info online where you can find which streets are closed and how to avoid being inconvenienced, but if you haven't figured things out by now...

I feel a little guilty about not marching this year. You see, I'm a naturalized citizen, an immigrant, a 1.5-er. I'm in-between the first generation, those born in another country who immigrated to the U.S. as adults, and the second generation, those born in the U.S. of immigrant parents. I was born in the Philippines and my parents emigrated legally to the U.S. when I was a child. I understand how difficult it was for my parents to emigrate and what a difference it's made in my world, but I still feel a little disconnected. I don't speak with an accent and most of my pop culture references are American. I understand my native language of Tagalog, but don't speak it fluently. I'm thoroughly westernized, but as I get older I realize how much I am influenced by my Asian roots and less by American mores.

I marched last year, does that count? Adam isn't around to march with us this year, he's still traveling around the world. I know that's not an excuse. And I miss Lucas, too.

I don't think this march is going to make as much of an impact (positive or negative), or be as effective as last year's marches. You know what, never mind. Don't look back. Jeez, I just re-read what I was blogging about two years ago. Sometimes, it's better to look forward.

the bitch is back

My second favorite dive bar, Shinsho Tei, is in Honolulu, at the intersection of Nuuanu and School. And every time I go there, it's Tranny Night. Now that I think about it, Cole's, which was my favorite dive bar, has been sold and is currently closed for renovation, so I guess Shinsho Tei is now my favorite dive bar.

Cousin Angel and I remembered that the last time we were there, my sister Laura was with us. The regulars at the bar were hard to win over, but we did, and we closed down the place doing it. That night's tranny was a masculine 6'1 with broad shoulders and barrel-chested, wearing a pink mini-dress and a red hibiscus tucked into his long dark hair.

As soon as my cousin G, Lisa and Teegan showed up, we all toasted Laura, then did shots and flipped through the books to see what we'd sing that night. I guess I can forget singing the Pussycat Dolls' hit, Don't Cha - the tranny in the booth next to us is already singing it, and putting a new spin to it, "Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me... don't cha,", and in case you missed his/her viewpoint, it came complete with illuminating dance moves.

Cousin Angel is in rare form, jeez, he's on fire. I don't remember what his first few numbers were, but our group and the regulars are loving it. Thanks to him, we won over the tough crowd early. I think I sang Carole King's I Feel The Earth Move, but then it was Cousin Angel's turn again and he sang The Bitch Is Back. He tore the place apart. One of the trannies in the house got up and started dancing and singing with him, "I'm the bitch, I'm the bitch!"Angel uploaded the video, the most hilarious being us singing along on certain parts and laughing our asses off.



After his triumphant performance, Cousin Angel started talking to everyone, people at the bar and from other tables and booths, but mostly to the tranny and company in the booth next to us. Then the moment happened - they asked for our names. Cousin Angel and I forgot to have that conversation in the car beforehand - after all, what happens in Honolulu stays in Honolulu, right? We couldn't tell them our real names, but we didn't come up with our aliases beforehand. So Cousin Angel did his best, telling them, "I'm Angel FuckMeInTheButt and this is my cousin, Celia EatMyAssOut." Did I mention that he still had the mic in his hand?

Shinsho Tei
1613 Nuuanu Ave
Honolulu, HI 96817
(808) 528-1007

it's not dolores, but it rhymes with another female body part

I recently read on Ed's blog that Pastagina will be opening up in the retail space at the Hikari Apartments in Little Tokyo. Are you kidding me? Pastagina? Mama mia, that's hilarious. Yeah, that just puts me in the mood to eat pasta. How's the putanesca? I hear the marinara is so good, you want to be ears deep in it. Jeez, that's even better than going to Angelique and ordering an Orangina (especially since they switched to Arranciata), or eating at the Pink Taco.

I know, I'm a child.

Pastagina opens in Little Tokyo in May 2007, with both their Third & Grand and Hope and 9th stores opening Summer 2007.

rolling through downtown

Check out this trailer for 1st and Hope, a film about an afternoon spent skateboarding through downtown Los Angeles, from 1st and Hope to the Staples Center. Yes, I'm procrastinating. Okay, I'll go back to rewriting my screenplay now.

downtown dog owners beware!

I read the craziest thing over at newdowntown - first there was this:

"Dear New Downtowners,

Please keep an eye on your dog when walking him/her in the downtown area. Apparently, there are a couple guys who are making accusations towards dog owners saying they "stole" their dog and are demanding that the dog be returned to them. They say their dog jumped out of the window of their car and then say you are taking the dog. They even go so far as to call the police. Please be very careful when leaving your dog - even for a minute - while you pop into a store or run in for a
coffee."

Kind regards,
Nancy-Jean Carlson, Owner
Pet Project,
Downtown's Exclusive Pet Food Home Delivery Service

Then, from Joe (you know Joe, he's always walking his beautiful dog Ruby around 4th and Main) comes this horrifying story:

"Thank you for posting the warning, Nancy-Jean.

Unfortunately, I was a victim of the two Hispanic guys yesterday (4-25). I was returning home from a dog walk around 4:30 pm with my bull terrier Ruby when they confronted me on the street at 6th and Main and tried to take Ruby away from me.

A police car stopped and the men told the police I took Ruby from their car. The police believed the men! One cop asked me how old Ruby is. I told him 9 years old. He told me that Ruby is two years old. "That is not your dog," one cop told me. "You have to return their dog."

I was pushed against the parking lot fence and handcuffed. Then I was placed in a police car while Ruby remained with the two men.

The officers were abusive. They asked me if I was under the influence of medication and if I wanted a white dog just like one I had when I was little.

I finally convinced them (after much begging) to take me to the San Fernando Building to establish the fact that Ruby is mine. Another cop car arrived and stayed with the men and my dog. One cop said "coo coo" the whole two block trip home. They also referred to the cardboard box they thought I lived in.

Things changed when I reached home. The building security guard, neighbors, the management crew, business owners (including Nancy-Jean) and Tom Gilmore and Trish Keefer all vouched for me and Ruby. The other cops brought the two men and Ruby to the building and everyone identified her. A third cop car later arrived. The handcuffs were finally removed and Ruby was returned to me.

Despite all of that, though, I still had to take the two cops to my unit to show them proof that I live with a dog. Then later they returned to take pictures of Ruby and me together.

I have filed a complaint against the two cops and I am going to meet with them and the head of Central Division on Monday afternoon. I was abused by those two cops and I will do my best to make them accountable for their bad behavior.

...and the two men? They were turned loose and could still possibly be around the area. Other dog walkers should wisely take Nancy-Jean's warning to heart."

Joe

As a former dog owner (Flagg passed away in 2004 after 13+ wonderful years) and fan of Ruby (we ran into them often when Jim lived at the San Fernando), I was sick when I read of Joe's encounter with the police and wish him the best of luck on Monday when he meets with the head of Central Division. I shudder to think that the two men were left free to prey on other dog-owners. Be careful out there!

downtown filming, downtown blogs

I read Ed and Eric's posts re new rules for downtown filming available on the FilmLA website. I love that I can get my essential info on downtown living from downtown blogs rather than the Downtown News or any other traditional media source. But there is still a lot of helpful information that I don't see covered and I know I'm guilty of not posting the most useful stuff or the most hilarious gossip anymore. I promise, more good stuff to come and less of my Hello Kitty obsession. Jeez, I did it again. Where was I? Oh yeah, back to filming downtown. Damn, that simulated gunfire from the film crew down the street is loud.

Eric states on blogdowntown (and I heartily agree), "Aside from the PDF making it sound like Film LA is making these changes of their own free will, the rules are a good start toward making filming a better neighbor. "

It is a very good start and I'm so appreciative of DLANC's Residential Committee for all they've done to make this happen and for their continued efforts. Special thanks to Benjamin Pezzillo, Bert Green and Ginny Marie Case.

But I have to laugh at Ed's theory, "I think it has something to do with Downtown being the '3rd "bloggiest' neighborhood." Hey, weren't we just talking about that after that residential meeting? Ed suggested that we have a picnic or barbecue for all downtown bloggers. I think we should have a meet-up at Lost Souls for all downtown bloggers and the people who read them. Anybody interested in going to that?

Here's an interesting viewpoint- I read this blog post re the ACLU, the cleaning up of Skid Row and downtown development. This woman's take on things is titled, " How the Supreme Court killed downtown Los Angeles". Why can't the Downtown News run articles like this instead of the same old rah-rah real estate stories?

then christ spoke to us

The plan was to drive around Oahu, stopping at all the yummy places to eat and maybe burn off some calories at a few of the beaches along the way. We had already gorged ourselves on malasadas from Leonard's the day before - original sugar as well as the pineapple custard-filled, haupia-filled, chocolate-filled, and sugar and cinnamon malasadas. I don't remember what we did after that.


Jim's first malasada

Jim and I waited outside the Waikiki Banyan for my brother Angel and Cousin Angel. I was surprised to see my mom sitting in the minivan as it pulled up. She wanted to go on the culinary tour of the island as well. I guess we had to watch our language and couldn't get too raunchy. Then Cousin Angel pointed out "The Semen Tree" where he lost his virginity, a bush where he made out with a cute Portuguese guy and other familiar-looking flora. I looked back at my mom - no reaction. She might be used to tuning us out by now.

It was a little cloudy when we left Waikiki and headed for Hawaii Kai for our first stop - Zippy's, "Hawaii's favorite foods". By the time we pulled into the parking lot, it was raining steadily. No worries, this is Hawaii after all - it rains, but it will soon pass.

I felt a little twinge when I ordered the same thing I always get - Loco Moco. It was really good, but I was eyeing Angel's Chili Moco - Zippy's has good chili and rice, what was I thinking? The skies cleared and I posited, "Every time we stop to eat, the rain stops. We should stop more." I pledged to get something new at the next culinary stop to make up for my early mistake. We drove up Kamehameha Highway towards Hanauma Bay.

We noticed the traffic cones blocking the entrance before we saw the sign, "Hanauma Bay closed on Tuesdays." Oh well, on to Sandy Beach. It was raining pretty steadily now. It didn't look like we'd be burning off any calories today. We drove past Sea Life Park and up the windward coast.

"Hey, didn't Cousin Minnie work at Sea Life Park when she was in college?"

"Yeah, she was a dolphin trainer."

"Didn't she quit because a dolphin went crazy and attacked her?"

"I thought it tried to have sex with her."

Then Angel, Cousin Angel, and I tried to outdo each other for the next few miles of amazing scenery with gross jokes about "Flipper del Banco", our cousin's half-dolphin love-child. I snuck a look at my mom sitting behind us in the mini-van. Still no reaction.

We passed by the Polynesian Cultural Center and had exhausted all dolphin jokes and tired of dolphin impressions. The beaches were rained out and we were almost to our next culinary stop, the shrimp trucks on the northwest side of the island. I could almost taste the garlic butter shrimp. We would have forged ahead, but my mom finally spoke up, "I need the restroom." Cousin Angel spotted the Mormon Temple on the opposite side of the road and suggested we turn around, use their facilities, and check out their Visitor's Center. I felt Angel resisting. He had to turn the van around on this two-lane stretch of Kamehameha Highway to go back. To the Mormon Temple. I should've heeded his instincts.

We got out of the mini-van and walked around the fountains, towering fan palms and lush gardens surrounding the Temple.

I looked around, then behind me at Cousin Angel, Jim and my mom. Someone was missing. "Where's Angel?"

Jim volunteered, "He's still back at the car."

"He said he didn't need to use the restrooms," added Cousin Angel.

"I need the restroom," my mom reminded me.

We made our way to the Visitor's Center. It was bright outside and I couldn't see inside. Cousin Angel opened the door for me and I led everyone inside. It took a split-second for me to realize, but I froze in my tracks the second I saw the ginormous statue of Jesus in the lobby. I tried to back up, but everyone else piled in behind me. Too late, we were sighted. A cute/creepy Asian girl in a blue muumuu approached us, "Aloha. Welcome to the Visitor's Center. Would you like to watch a short presentation on Jesus Christ? I love him so much."

I stammered and looked to my mom for help. The tour guide saw our hesitation, "It's very short, just a few minutes." Then my mom spoke up again, "I need the restroom."

Hallelujah! "I need to go too," I added and we all broke for the restrooms. Except for Angel, who was still at the car. There was no one in the ladies' room except for me and my mom, but we still didn't dare to speak freely. I wanted to ask her how we could get the hell out of there, but then another tour guide in a blue muumuu followed us into the restroom. We made it out to the Jesus statue and saw that Jim was on his feet, ready to bolt, but Cousin Angel was holding literature and sitting with creepy Asian chick. She got up, motioned for us to sit, and hit a button behind the Jesus statue. The lights dimmed slightly and Jesus spoke, "Hello, I am Jesus... "

Have you ever been to the Hall of Presidents on Main Street at Disneyland? The one where an animatronic Abraham Lincoln sits and talks with the audience? It was kind of like that except creepier and Jesus didn't move and he was something like 20 feet tall. Mercifully, the creepy Asian chick didn't lie about the length of time. As soon as Jesus stopped talking, we lept to our feet. Creepy Asian chick asked if we wanted to take the rest of the tour. Cousin Angel, quick thinker that he is, offered, "We have to hurry up and catch up with the rest of our group."

Just then, Angel walks into the Visitor's Center. I almost laughed out loud when I saw he had the same reaction I did, that recognizable "Oh shit," look and a small backward step towards the door to escape. I hoped he didn't need to use the restroom and added, "Oh there's our driver. Sorry, we have to go."

We all walked out rather quickly and I waited until what I thought was a safe distance before I asked Cousin Angel, "How creepy was that?" Cousin Angel stiffened and whispered, "She's right behind us."

I turned to see the creepy Asian chick had followed us out and was walking with us across the grounds to our car. I stopped and she thrust a piece of paper and pen in my hand, asking for my contact information. I shook my head, "No, thank you," and walked away. She stood there, waving goodbye to us as I we piled into the car. If Angel had been in there with us, I suspect the mini-van would've pealed out of the parking lot.

We tried to laugh the creepiness off of us, so we made all sorts of bad religion jokes as we sped away. It was raining slightly, but we saw it in the distance, the first shrimp truck. We weren't that hungry, but we figured we'd split a few plates and Angel could use the facilities. Warily, he asked, "Do I have to listen to Jesus to use this restroom?"

I joked, "No, it's a Buddhist bathroom."

Two garlic butter shrimp plates later, the rain subsided and we were on our way to the North shore and shave ice at Matsumoto's. Or was it Ted's Pies? I forget which came first, just that we were on an insane sugar high. We ended things with a late visit to the Dole Plantation on the way back. We planned on hitting that Chinese-style shave ice place in Aeia, but we were late for dinner at my aunt's house.

On our way back to Waikiki, we noticed a sign at all the bus stops along Kuhio, "Hanauma Bay is closed on Tuesdays." The signs were there all along, we just had to notice them.

left behind

I had a great time in Hawaii, but I am so glad to be back home in Los Angeles. Jim and I arrived yesterday morning and I've already had a conversation with the manager of the resort we stayed at in Poipu, Kauai. First, I identified myself. Then I quickly got to the point of my call.

"...I was a guest last weekend and I inadvertently left some items in our room."

The friendly woman in the other end cheerily replied, "I can check with housekeeping. Which room were you in?"

"Room 2303."

I heard her tapping on a keyboard. "Okay, what did you leave behind?"

"I left a Hawaiian-print dress on top of the hamper in the bedroom facing the ocean."

"What color?"

"It had a black background, with ivory and red hibiscus flowers."

More tapping.

"Okay. What else?"

I hesitated.

"Pink and black Hello Kitty panties. I left both the dress and the panties on top of the hamper in the closet."

She was quiet on the other end, no tapping on the keyboard.

Carefully, she asked, "Hello Kitty panties?"

"Yes," I laughed, "Pink and black, Hello Kitty."

I heard her laugh, then tap something out. "Okay, I'll check with housekeeping and call you right back."

Minutes later, she calls me back.

"I talked to housekeeping. They found the dress and sent it out to be dry-cleaned. I can mail it out to you as soon as it comes back from the cleaners."

"Great!" I exclaimed.

"Unfortunately, they didn't find your Hello Kitty panties."


Picture of the missing dress. I'm wearing the missing panties in this picture. Photo taken by Angel

Ten Illegal Things I Found on Jim's Computer

OK, I cannot tell a lie. I didn't find anything illegal. But not for lack of trying!

Then again, I'm not 100 percent sure this is Jim's and not Celia's computer I'm on. All I know is that I'm a bit of an interloper here, not having asked permission to use this Mac before our dynamic duo fled the nest.

Guys? Do ya mind?

Anyway -- The week has wizzed by and we have already eased on down to Saturday. Wish I had a camera to capture Poppy, crashed out under this spectacular city view. Hate to tear her away from it, but alas, our sojourn in this urban paradise is winding to a close. Tomorrow, this trio will be making its way to the Jewel of Hollywood.

Jim, Celia, do you know how good you have it here?

I think you do.

watch me hula

Hello from Hawaii! Jim and I are having a great time, wish you were here. No, really, we do. Especially if you've got something that will help me recover from our drunken karaoke experience last night.

Anyway, there's a live web cam trained on the Duke Kahanamoku statue on Waikiki Beach. I was thinking of posting a time when I would go there and wave hello to whoever reads this blog, maybe even play the ukelele or do the hula. But then I realized, I can't play the ukelele and I don't know how to hula. Ah screw it, I'll just send out postcards like normal people do.

Ten Illegal Items I Found in Celia's Medicine Cabinet

OK -- so I wrote that subject line just to scare her a little bit, in case she's checking in from Paradise.

Truth is, I haven't found anything illicit so far, but people seem to think I will. Take my friend Soo. I told her about Celia & Jim's hospitable invitation, and the conversation went a little like this:

Soo: So, what's the place like?

Me: [Description this, description that, huge, cavernous space, deck size of a football field, spectacular city view, etc., etc.]

Soo: Yeah, but are there, like, a bunch of Hello Kitty vibrators hanging from the ceiling? I'd imagine there would be.

Me: Ahhhhh! I thought they were cigar holders.

So ... well ... maybe the vice is there -- I'm just not hip to it.

Anyway, I'll check in again when I've managed to sneak some snaps with Jim's camera. Then YOU can tell ME what's what among the Jimelia apothecary.

Hello Kitty

I was thinking that there's enough Hello Kitty stuff in this loft to choke a horse, but I was wrong because GOD DAMMIT THE HORSE WON'T DIE.

Zombie

Hello! Guest Blogger Jim Pascoe here.

I'm not new to blogging, but most of the time on my site, jimpascoe.com, I'm either promoting my writing or declaring that I'm the prime minister of Iraq ... sadly, a post I have vacated. I'll try to capture the Celianess of this site.

I know! I'll use code names!

So Gab and I are moving our stuff from the Flophouse (first code name) to the Loft, carrying suitcases and boxes of baby clothes from the car down Los Angeles Street. When who comes a' walkin' down the sidewalk?

Not Keanu Reeves (not a code name). No, it was Melvin (code name).

Melvin is a zombie. As in un-fucking-dead.

No. I'm serious. This guy -- I mean Melvin -- was slowly making his way down the pavement, but everything about him: his bandaged calf, his awkward gait, his cloudy eyes, his open mouth ... dude, this was a for-real, 100%, just-like-they-used-to-make-them-in-the-movies ZOMBIE.

It was actually Gabrielle who first pointed out his true zombie nature. She was like, "that guy, Melvin, is a zombie."

Yeah.

It was just like the zombie apocolypse but with hundreds less zombies and no cool quarentine signs wildposted everywhere.

I thought about shooting Melvin in the head. Then I thought, Melvin, I don't know you. And you're a freakin' zombie. Let's make a deal. You don't eat my brains, and I won't splatter you head open in the middle of the street. Just keep stumbling away from me, and you'll be okay in my book.

Tonight, there was no sign of Melvin. Was I hallucinating last night? Or is he still out there somewhere, a couple broken steps farther into oblivion?

pinch hitters

Jim and I are leaving for Hawaii in a few hours and I still haven't finished packing. I have plenty to do, but I wanted to let you know that I've been thinking of you. Yes, you. I don't want you to do without blog posts while we're in a tropical paradise. So I've asked my good friends, the very cool, always fun, and incredibly talented husband and wife team of Jim and Gabrielle to fill in for me while we're gone.

Jim and Gabrielle are filling in for me in more ways than one - they're also housesitting our loft while their house is being renovated or something. It'll be interesting to see how they negotiate downtown Los Angeles and interact with our friendly neighbors and film crews. You might recognize Jim, he was the officiant at our wedding, and you might remember Gabrielle as the person responsible for Single Shot. Be nice to them while I'm gone, they've got a lot going on and if you ask nicely, maybe they'll tell post a list of the "10 illegal things found in Celia's bathroom", or any one of the potentially embarrassing things they unearth while loftsitting.

Personally, I think you should ask Jim about his story in the soon-to-be-released book, LOS ANGELES NOIR. You've read about it, haven't you? No? Sure you have.

homemade

It was the day before my birthday and I still didn't know what was in those packages that Jim hid from me. Those were my birthday presents and I was determined to find out what they were - before my birthday.

I had a pretty good idea of where they were hidden. Most likely, he'd hide my presents up high, where he thinks I can't reach. But we have chairs and ladders, I just needed to get him out of the loft so I could search in peace.

"Don't brownies sound good right now? Don't they have brownies at JJ Sandwich Shop, across from Cole's?" I whined to Jim.

He shrugged and continued to stare at his computer screen.

Undaunted, I figured I should describe a brownie. After all, he's the one with the sweet tooth. He'll want a brownie, run down the street to get some for the both of us and while he's out, I would ransack the storage closet and the bedroom closet.

"I hope they have those double fudge brownies, or ones with chocolate chips in them. Or how about those brownies with the chocolate icing. Doesn't that sound good? I wonder if they have any left."

Jim continued to ignore me, so I went back to my computer and tried to figure out another way to get him out of the loft. He printed something out and when I looked up again, he was gone. I looked around, but heard him in the kitchen, moving pots and pans around.

Things looked good. I could see what he was doing in there, estimate how long he'd be in there, and figure out how to get the ladder out of the kitchen and into the bedroom without him noticing.

"What are you doing?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Making brownies."

"From scratch?" I asked, incredulous. I mean, who does that? Brownies from scratch?

Jim handed me a printout. He had downloaded a recipe off the Internet. "Yeah. We've got all the ingredients and you said you wanted brownies."

Damn. Forty minutes later, homemade brownies. And he still hadn't left the loft.

"Those look great! You know what would be perfect with those? Ice cream. You could go and get some from Ray at the Old Bank Deli. Wouldn't this be so much better with Dulce de Leche ice cream?"

eye of the tiger

Jim and I leave for Hawaii on Thursday, but tomorrow I'm meeting with Bigshot Producer. I'm trying hard not to faint again.

I wrote the majority of my screenplay last year at Jim's old pad, six floors above Pete's Cafe. I was on the sofa, already stressing out about getting my first draft out to Bigshot Producer. Jim was in the kitchen, making rice krispy treats with pink marshmallows so that they would look like mealworms. No, it wasn't for Halloween and yes, I did worry. But back to me, me, me.

Development Exec called, "Not to put more pressure on you, but (media giant whose name I cannot divulge but she's black, has a talk show, magazine, empire, etc.) wants to read your screenplay as soon as possible."

My bullshit-meter didn't make a peep. Bigshot Producer is very tight with her attorney. "Yeah, okay. I'll send you pages when I'm done." I hung up, took a deep breath and started to freak out a little. I got off the sofa to tell Jim, who had his back to me in the kitchen.

"Guess who wants to read my screenplay," I said. Then, my knees buckled, the room spun and I fainted. Jim said he heard what sounded like a body hitting concrete. I'm guessing he spun around and saw me lying on the floor, down for the count.

When I came to, Jim was on the floor next to me, with a scared look on his face. Situation reversed, I guess I would be scared too. I started to laugh once I realized what happened. I am so ridiculous sometimes, I mean, who the hell faints from work-related stress? Jim got me back onto the sofa and I think he offered me mealworms/rice krispy treats.

I wasn't that worried because that wasn't the first time I've fainted from work-related stress. Once, I took off to get away from everyone and everything. I checked myself into The Phoenician for some ultra-relaxing spa treatments. On my second day, I was in the gift shop purchasing a book to read. The cashier asked where I was from.

"Los Angeles," I replied.

"What do you do there in Los Angeles?"

At the time I was in the music industry, so I said, "I'm in the music industry." Then I started thinking about work. My knees buckled, the room started to spin and I fainted. The manager of the resort and the cashier were standing over me when I came to. The doctor was on his way, he was stuck treating members of Steely Dan for food poisoning. So they put me on a golf cart and drove me to my room.

To make sure I didn't faint for the remainder of my stay, every morning the manager sent a basket of fresh fruit to my room and every night, a hot fudge banana split brownie sundae - gratis. Did you read that Jim? No mealworms.

I haven't fainted since that last time, thankfully. I think this is the home stretch. Eye of the tiger.

slow-moving traffic

Last night Jim and I attended another DLANC Residents' Issues Meeting. As we left the Little Tokyo Library, we stopped to chat with Dave and Ed from View From A Loft. We were talking about downtown filming, blogging, and organizing a downtown bloggers barbecue or picnic when a funny thing happened. A motorcycle cop with his lights flashing escorted a crane as it slowly trawled down Los Angeles Street on its way to some film crew's base camp. We all scrambled for our cameras, but I had pulled mine out of my purse before leaving the loft. Damn.

Ed managed to snap a picture, I hope he posts it soon. I'm guessing it was for the MONK shoot scheduled for today on Spring Street. They're using the parking lot behind us and another lot at 6th and Main, but we received plenty of notification and they've been pretty cool so far. Let's see what happens at 10pm tonight when they're supposed to be gone, but I have a feeling it'll be a non-issue.

I thought it was cute that instead of "MONK" on the cast/crew directional signs, it read "O.C.D."

wild about wings

I spent this morning looking at butterflies. The Pavilion of Wings at the Los Angeles Natural History Museum opens for its ninth popular season on April 15, but I had a chance to preview the pavilion and get my questions answered by the Museums's resident "Bug Guy", entomologist Brent Karner.



After a dismal, overcast week, it was nice to see the sun. And good timing, too. Butterflies need the sun to aid in their digestion, so they tend to come out when it's sunny, hide when it's not.





There were a few kids in the pavilion, listening to the Bug Guy talk about the 30 different species of butterflies, their lifecycles, defense mechanisms, environments, etc. Mostly, they let the butterflies land on their heads, shoulders, and fingers. It was pretty cool, being in the middle of all these live, free-flying butterflies. If I had a drink in my hand, I could've watched it for hours.





I really only had one question for the Bug Guy. It makes perfect sense that you're supposed to wear bright clothing to attract butterflies, and that wearing a light floral scent also helps. But I heard that butterflies are attracted to smoke and wanted to know why. He gave me the short answer at first and after looking at my scrunched-up face (I was concentrating), he gave me the long answer. It made perfect sense. Trouble is, I have a hard time retaining information and I forgot his explanation. Guess I'll have to go back. But that's okay. They had these really cute bug and butterfly collecting kits in the gift shop, some venus flytraps, and all sorts of butterfly-themed things. I think I'll be a hero and take my cousin's kids here. I just have to pack a flask and smoke something beforehand.

Pavilion of Wings (on the South Lawn)
Natural History Museum of Los Angeles
900 Exposition Blvd.
Los Angeles
April 15 - September 3, 2007, 10am - 5pm
Special ticketed admission: Adults $3; Students & Seniors $2, Museum members and children under 5 are FREE.
Member Preview Days: April 13th (9:30am-5pm) and April 14th (10am-5pm)

more downtown filming

Yet another shoot downtown. We didn't get any notifications that this would be shooting in the parking lot next door or that their lights would be bleeding into our loft.



Those lights are really bright.

We didn't get any notifications about this shoot either.





This was a production titled THEM and many of my neighbors had problems with this shoot for the past week. They started moving their trucks after 10pm and started blasting air horns around 1am. Nice. I don't think anyone puts up with this, or is expected to, in any other neighborhood.

san francisco treats

Jim, my brother, and I are going to be in San Francisco this weekend to see our friend Jessica, who was our restaurant guide when we were in Vancouver last year. I have my favorites in the Bay area, but I want to try something new. Any suggestions?

"i am an F... B... I... agent!"

This is absolutely brilliant - the Milagro Theater in New York is extending the run of their stage adaption of the 1991 Keanu Reeves/Patrick Swayze extreme-sports blockbuster movie, Point Break. As if that weren't hilarious enough:

"...the starring role of Keanu will be selected at random from the audience each night, and will read their entire script off of cue-cards. This method manages to capture the rawness of a Keanu Reeves performance even from those who generally think themselves incapable of acting."

The show has already had sold-out extended runs in Minneapolis, Seattle and Brooklyn. Why, oh why, can't this be staged in Los Angeles?

honeymoon tales: the toast of hong kong

One Saturday night in Hong Kong, Jim and I visited Jumbo, the world's largest floating restaurant. It's so big, we went there twice. The restaurant is three stories tall and holds 2,600 diners comfortably.

The first time, Jim and I didn't actually go inside and it wasn't Saturday night. We were taking a daytime sampan ride in Aberdeen Harbour and the captain of our sampan, Thomas, wanted to stop for pictures.



After fifty HK dollars and much pleading, he was persuaded to step aside to take a picture of me and Jim.



Our second visit to Jumbo was on Saturday night, for a nine-course meal with our "Splendid Night of Delights" tour group. Earlier, we picked up part of our group at Queen's Pier, fresh from a booze cruise, and then proceeded to the Temple Street Night Market. After loading up on Hello Kitty items at 7-11 as well as from a street vendor, we returned to Jumbo.

We sat in the middle of this huge dining room, sharing a table with a British guy in HK on business, a Venezuelan textiles guy currently living in Austria also there on business, two older British women on holiday, and a couple and their teenage daughter from Australia. I was surprised to hear that the Brits at our table had never tried Chinese food before this trip, and, at a restaurant renowned for seafood, the teenage daughter was a strict vegetarian. Earlier the Venezuelan guy claimed to have eaten an eagle the night before. I told him that he probably ate chicken, but they told him it was an eagle. That got a big laugh.

As was my custom on this trip, I informed our tour guide and one of the British ladies sitting next to me (I think her name was Madge) that Jim and I were on our honeymoon. Soon there were toasts all around, people were buying us drinks from other tables, it was nuts! People from across the room were coming over, taking our picture, buying us more drinks, sending over special dishes to try, etc. It was getting embarrassing, but we didn't know how to make it stop.

As if that weren't enough, the management of the restaurant came over and asked us if we would grace them with a picture, taken at the massive throne situated at the end of the room. And would we please change into more formal attire, please?



So there we were, drunk and dressed up like Chinese royalty, the entire room toasting and clapping.

(Just kidding - we paid something like HK$150 for them to dress us up as the Emperor and Empress of China and take some Polaroids. The whole room turned around and laughed and cheered once they realized the new Emperor was a tall white guy from Minnesota.)

don's new girlfriend is a cow

Last night Jim and I attended the DLANC Residents Committee's ad-hoc downtown filming issues meeting. During the 5-minute mid-meeting break, I admitted to Jim that it would probably be apropos for me to wear a t-shirt that reads, "Angry is my baseline", you know, to warn people. I wonder if he's ordered one for me yet.

After the meeting, Jim and I decided to walk to Blossom for dinner. Jim went to the restroom while I perused the menu. I don't know why I bothered, I always order the shaking beef (I'm a creature of habit). I looked up and Los Angeles' very own Town Crier and fellow downtown blogger, Don Garza, was sitting across from me. Don sat next to me during the meeting and questioned me about my anger issues, but thankfully he was done talking about me and was now talking about him, his new girlfriend, and his efforts at vlogging. BTW, I'm not being cruel by referring to her as a cow, those were his exact words. Just watch the video on Don's blog - he poses with his girlfriend at 1:16 on the video and she gives him some cheese at 1:30. She really is a cow.

honeymoon tales: running aground

It was our last day at Ko Yao Noi and I fell on my ass trying to carry my pink suitcase out to the boat. Jim made fun of me because I liked to wave at all the passing boats. About 200 yards before hitting Bang Rong Pier, I waved to passing fishermen in a long-tail. One hundred yards from the pier, our ship ran aground. It was low tide. Our captain tried to loosen the ship, but nothing was happening.

It seemed like all was lost. We wouldn't make it to the pier and our driver would probably leave. We'd miss our flight to Hong Kong. Then the passing fishermen who I waved to earlier came floating up. Our captain exchanged a few words with them, then he was gesturing for us to get out of his boat, and onto their boat. Did I mention that their long-tail was still full of the morning's catch?

No matter, the pier was just in sight, only 100 yards away. Jim and I squatted on a board, inches above a pile of prawn and still-flopping fish. My Hello Kitty suitcase sat up front, a big pink beacon that yelled, "Silly tourist approaching!" Jim didn't seem to be enjoying the rescue, I didn't know until after our adventure that he was worried about me freaking out. Did I mention that I get creeped out by live fish?

Minutes later as we approached the pier, I heard the sound of a long-tail motor roaring to life. I turned to see the captain had managed to work his boat free. We waved goodbye as he headed back towards Ko Yao Noi. I turned to face the pier and my face connected with the bow of a docked long-tail boat. I tried to keep my balance, keep my footing on the bench I had been squatting on, but I fell back and avoided stepping on their catch by inches. I stood up, fighting through the dizzyness, eager to get off the boat.

Hands were offered and with my free hand, I grabbed on for dear life and hoisted myself off the boat. In front of me was a foot-wide expanse between the pier and whatever rickety wood thing I had been standing on. Holding on to my pink luggage, hoping to not lose a shoe, I closed my eyes and jumped. I made it to the other side, where a crowd of bored locals sat drinking and watching the two tourists who had to be fished out of their long-tail.

Within minutes, our driver arrived. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, we just got here."

We sat in the back of the car, relieved to be underway, glad that we had a little adventure and not one that disrupted our itinerary. Then I saw it - a monkey, perched on a car parked at the entrance to the pier. No, two monkeys, wait, three. And they were posing, like the "see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil" monkeys. I can't wait to return to Thailand.

solving downtown's public transit issues

I realize it's just a first step, but this monorail looks like it could be a good solution.

heeding the call, looking for signs

Today, LA City Nerd issued a call to action - for bloggers in Los Angeles to take pictures of their community name signs in the city and post them to this Flickr group. Here's a list of all the community names.

I came back from a visit with my art dealer and snapped this Old Bank District sign. But what's that in the distance? A billboard for a downtown strip club? No, look closer, in front of the billboard.


It's the Toy District and Historic Downtown signs.


More signs from the Historic Core, Fashion District, and Gallery Row:






It was a nice day and I ran into Ginny, Bert and Ben at Lost Souls Cafe. Have you tried their ube shake? So yummy.

honeymoon tales: sord and the captain

One of the many reasons Jim and I loved our secluded resort on Ko Yao Noi is because of the lack of activities. The resort is small, only fifteen villas, and apart from breakfast and dinner, we never saw more than three or four people at a time.



The pace is spectacularly slow. I watched a gardener trim back a few flowering branches, then stop to feed the koi in the pond. He went back to trimming the garden, then sat down under a tree. An hour later, a palm frond fell from a tree in front of our beach villa. The gardener quickly dragged the palm frond away, disposed of it, then spent the rest of the afternoon under the tree, waiting for another to fall. I, of course, had the time to watch him, the shimmering ocean, the limestone karsts just off-shore, and the occasional sailboat and long-tail boats as they floated and chugged in and out of view.



I was reluctant to leave the resort, but felt that we should at least try to see more than just our island. So Jim and I signed up for an island shopping and sightseeing tour, the only one offered that didn't involve diving, kayaking, or snorkeling.

Shortly after breakfast, Sord and the Captain pulled up to our beach in a long-tail boat, ready to take us to Krabi, about an hour away across the bay.



Sord spoke English very well and managed to answer all our questions about our island as we chugged past the limestone karsts.

"My veelage, is in de middle of de island. We have seven veelages on de island, two on de east side, two on de west side and three in de middle. My wife and I live wid my fadder and modder. My wife, she work in anodder resort, also as tour guide. Most of de people in de island are fishermen or work in de rubber plant. De Captain, he is also from my veelage."

Then I saw it in the distance. I pointed and asked Sord, "Who lives there?"




"Dat is de palace of de King of Thailand. He has a palace in Bangkok also. Tree times a year, de palace is open to de public - de King's birtday, de Queen's birtday, and Songkran. De forest around de palace is a national reserve. Dere are many monkeys all around. De roof of de palace, is solid gold."

Twenty minutes later, were were at Ao Nang, a touristy strip along a tiny beach. It was hot, humid, and lousy with shops and European tourists. We did our souvenir shopping quickly, broke for lunch in an open-air restaurant and watched the parade of locals and sunburned tourists zip by on foot, tuk-tuks and mopeds.

We wolfed down lunch. "Let's get out of here," I suggested. Minutes later, Sord was leading us past pack after pack of tourists, back to the boat.



After a few minutes of me splashing around, trying to climb back into the boat, we were off, on our way to Ko Hong (literally translated, island with lagoon). We passed Ko Hong on the way to Krabi, but we had to return at high tide so that we could enter the lagoon.



Once inside the lagoon, the Captain turned off the motor. There was one other boat in the lagoon, another couple with their guide. Quietly, we floated around the edges of the lagoon.



It was so beautiful inside the lagoon, so peaceful and quiet. We found ourselves whispering, pointing out the high cliffs surrounding the lagoon. Sord pointed out the ropes going into the caves and explained how people would go inside the caves to collect birds' nests, and that it was very dangerous. I asked Sord if he ever tried it.



"Yes, I try once. I went wif my friend, I go inside de cave and I see a python. I don't go inside de cave anymore."



Our boat bumped up against a mangrove tree. I heard a splashing in the water, but didn't see anything in the shallow, clear water.



"What was that?" I asked.

Sord replied nonchalantly, "Crocodile."

I suppressed a scream, but jumped away from the mangrove trees and tried to put Jim between me and the sound of the crocodile. Then I realized that Jim, Sord and the Captain were all laughing at me.



Sord laughingly apologized, "Sorry, sorry. I'm only joking. No crocodile."

25% off candles

If you're in the market for candles, Illuminations is having a friends and family promotion - 25% off your entire purchase, starting yesterday until March 25th. Click here for the coupon which you can use in their stores or online.