Breathe It In

People talk about the smell of rain all the time.  And the sort of unfortunate truth is it's actually the smell of pollution seeping off the ground.

But it's raining in Florida right now and I swear it smells different than LA.

It smells like home and first loves and grass on your toes.

Delish.

Um, did you know...

Stressed spelled backwards is desserts?

Whoa.

Have a nice flight.

Those are four words I love to hear when I fly.  I imagine most people don't think much of the phrase, but for this girl -- who is consistently running through the airport praying they haven't shut the door yet -- they're like candy.

After running and stressing and standing and begging and running and finally arriving at the gate; those words allow the first full exhale of my day of travel.

I'll be an adult one day and show up on time, but not today.

ABC's

I've been listening to an old iPod in alphabetical order by song.  Mostly because its sort of stuck there and is the only way it'll play in my car.

Slightly frustrating.  

But highlights so far:
Baby Don't Forget My Number - Milli Vanilli
Bear Necessities - Ya know, Disney.
Black Dog - Robert Plant

Also, there are lot of songs with "baby" in their title.

Kitchen floors are good for crying.

Today I cried over an iron skillet.

I was supposed to make stuffing for Thanksgiving Dinner and realized part way into preparation my iron skillet was missing.  Odd, since I only use it at Thanksgiving.  I searched everywhere - even the hall closet, just in case. No luck.

Before I knew it, I was on the kitchen floor...crying.

Not over iron, people. It was merely the last straw, apparently.  This isn't the time or place for details on the tears.  But I can tell you the moment that brought the smile.

I had already put in my first batch of biscuits and as I watched them closely, knowing they wouldn't be as good as my mom's, I cried even more. When they reached the perfect golden brown, I pulled them out and proceeded to douse one with butter and take a bite over the sink as the butter dripped down my fingers (per tradition).

Oh. My. Goodness.
I did it.

I really did it.

Thirty two years and they FINALLY tasted just like my mom's.

T-Day Love

I know I've mentioned this before, but I love hanging out at the airport as people are being reunited.  And today was so great...the day before Thanksgiving.

There were moms and dads barely able to stay on our side of the revolving doors because they were so excited to see their kids.  Friends and boyfriends and family. So many happy tears and hugs.

Love.

Free Parking

After boot camp this morning, my roommate and I were walking back to the car and she stopped and pointed at the ground.  Next to the meter was a pile of change. Good change.  Like, laundry money change.

There was a very brief moment where both of us considered picking it up, but she said, "We should leave it for someone who needs it."

Thank you to the generous person who clearly will make someone's day today in Santa Monica.


(Which also reminds me of these guys.)

Reasons to like Microsoft

I learned today that working at Microsoft allows you to send "kudos" to people who have helped make your day a littler easier.  Basically, you can send a thank you note to someone and it automatically copies in their manager and gets tracked throughout the company.

I dig it.

Life is too short for boring socks.

I have a small obsession with socks.  Colorful, striped, knee high, silly, expensive sporty ones...doesn't matter.

And I also love watching a business man sit down as his pants rise slightly at his ankle to see if he's daring or slightly boring.  There are a few things that turn me on: an amazing mouth, dark hair, handyman capabilities.  But a sneak peak at some fancy socks under a business suit -- whoa.

Advice

Fill In The Blank

You wanna be me.

We had a Do Good Bus ride today and decided to meet some friends out at a bar afterward.  My lovely staff girl and I showed up with matching shirts and silly hats from the ride and ordered some whiskey.

Strangers talked to us ALL NIGHT.  "What's the occasion?" "Whose birthday?" "Love your hat." "Let me buy you a drink."

Fantastic.

The best part was being able to answer, "No party. I just got off work."
People were jealous.

Good one.

After my post yesterday about shoes, a friend reminded me of this amazing clip from Me And You And Everyone We Know.

Crumbs

I did quite a bit of walking around Santa Monica tonight and I'm not sure what's happening, but I saw 5 shoes.  Solo, lonely, abandoned shoes.  Five in one night...that's weird, right?

A flip flop.
An Adidas soccer flop.
A men's dress shoe.
A flip flop.
A women's dress shoe.

I'm going to pretend it's two people speaking to one another in shoes.  Perhaps a Hansel and Gretel reenactment of sorts.

Spies

I went on a blind date tonight and knew with in about 2 minutes of meeting him that it was going to be a long, uncomfortable glass of wine.

After we found a table, I noticed two women sitting close by had already spotted I was on a first date.  I was embarrassed at first, but then thought of the many times I had been a spy, just like them.

I made it through my glass of wine and politely explained I had a movie to catch and needed to run.  By now, my two lady spies had moved inside from the rain and I headed down the Promenade to see if, indeed, there was a movie I'd like to see.

After my stroll, no potential movies and not being able to find my car -- I ran into the spies at the parking machine.  They were in front of me and I had my head buried in my phone looking up other movie options.

One of them turned around and said, "It's you!"  She grabbed her friend and spun her around and said, "Look! It's her."  "How was your date?!"

I smiled with pouty eyes and said, "Awful."

She immediately grabbed me and gave me a hug.  A real hug.
"Oh, I'm so sorry sweetheart."

They explained they had been watching most of the time and realized pretty quickly it wasn't going well.

"We spent the rest of the evening going through our rolodex of friends trying to come up with someone to introduce you to.  You seemed so sweet and cute.  I mean, you stuck it out for the date, most girls wouldn't do that."

(Do people REALLY just get up from an unsuccessful date and leave?)

We joked for a bit and they wished me luck in the black hole that is dating in Los Angeles and we went our separate ways.

Made my day.

A note.

Dear Person Reading This,

Someone thought about you today and smiled.

A moment or a word reminded them of you and they stopped what they were doing, even if for just a second, and thought of you.
You can smile knowing that.

Go ahead, don't be shy.

[grin]

Sunday's Best

This morning I heard my neighbor (the one who reminds me of the old man from UP) on his way out and someone said to him, "Looking nice this morning, where are you headed?"

"Oh, I dress up every once in awhile so I remember what it's like.  And I'm going to brunch. I hate brunch."

"Well you look nice. And enjoy brunch...I think."

Yes, ma'm.

Indianapolis was a great city...sort of unexpectedly so.

We gardened, we got dirty, we ate delicious cajun food.  But during our volunteer activity as I was trying to make small talk with some of our do-gooders, the guy I was chatting with answered yes (or no) ma'm to everything I said.

The very first time, I had a moment where I thought, "What the heck?  We're practically the same age, don't call me ma'm."

But then it was so cute.  So southern.  So....refreshing.

Sucker. For. Manners.

Whirlwind

The month of September is a complete blur.  There was white and yellow and cardboard and coconut water.  Dirt, sharpies, hugs, music, vodka and change.  Real change.

The Do Good Bus Tour with Foster The People is flying past me but it also feels like I've been on the road for months.

Two days ago (aka, two weeks ago) a lovely couple hosted a private party where the band played in their backyard.  At some point, I was standing in the kitchen talking to someone and glanced down at the floor across the room.  My brother and Cubbie were standing there, barefoot. I suddenly realized I was too and almost second guessed myself.  Is that rude?  Trashy?

Um, no.  Just fantastic.

Typo

Earlier today, I put a new event in my phone calendar and didn't pay much attention. I'm meant to pick up my brother at the Grammy's Foundation on Friday.

When I double checked my calendar tonight to prepare for the next couple days, I noticed I had "Granny's" scheduled for Friday.

As I read the word Granny...I froze for a second and had to re-rack my brain.  I actually believed for a moment that my granny (who passed away years ago) was in my schedule.  In a few seconds; I saw her house, her hair and a delicious Little Debbie waiting at her bedside.

So appropriate.  She'd be proud of my Friday, of my month, of my brother's year.  But she'd also remind both of us to mind our manners and to not forget where we came from.

I could be totally wrong.

We live in the periwinkle apartment by the sea.
My neighbors live in the red, echoey apartment a few steps further from the sea.

And I hear their every move.  Seriously.

They listen to NPR starting at 3am.  They watch TV until 2am.  They type, they wash dishes, they vacuum.  They seem to have conversations IN my room.

They're a couple in their late 70s/early 80s and I swear the old man character in Up was based on my neighbor.  However, my neighbor embodies only the sweet, slightly oblivious version of the character in the Pixar movie.

His wife is mean.  M-E-A-N, mean.  She's annoyed with him before he even begins a thought.  Before he can ask a question.  Before he moves, shuffles, breathes.

A common dialogue in their household is:
Wife: "I'm leaving, okay?"
Silence.
Wife: "I'm leaving, OKAAY? [sigh, grunt]"
Husband: "Oh, okay. Have a good day."

Wife: "Yeah. Bye."

Husband: "What?"

Wife: "BYYYYYYYE!"

You need an entire summer with your windows open to fully understand.  But it makes me sad.  Makes me question marriage.  She seems to genuinely hate him.

However, from the small talk my roommate and I have had with Mr. Up, they both played professionally for the philharmonic.  And there are days that the most beautiful violin music seeps out their windows and it's as if I'm at a live concert.  As I hear the notes and the music peaks, I imagine those are the moments they are still in love.

It's hard to say who is playing.  And I can't decide if I want it to be HER as he is reminded of the moment when he fell for her. As she plays, he forgets the moments she's consistently annoyed with him and is just happy they're in the same room.

Or if I want it to be HIM playing as she sits and closes her eyes and quickly falls back in love with him; even if just for that moment.

Doesn't matter really.  When there's music coming from those windows, there are no voices and I close my eyes and see them smiling at one another.

Girl, you better try to have fun no matter what you do.

Amazing advice, right?

Driving home tonight after drinks with a friend and feeling inspired, I shuffled back and forth between Love Line and any song that I recognized on the radio.  As I was blocks from my house, I heard the first two notes of a song and immediately could see myself in 5th grade, heartbroken, phone in hand about to call the local radio station and make an honest request.

"XL 106.7 DJ, I dedicate this to Tony Citeralla, I miss him."

I can't remember what happened.  Did I awkwardly, pre-maturely break up with him and then dramatize it?  Did he break my heart? (as 5th grade broken hearts go...)  I can't remember.

But I CAN remember every single word, every single beat to Nothing Compares 2 U, by Sinead Oconnor.  And I forgot how good it feels to belt out every word.

I remember being in 5th grade.  I knew exactly what she was talking about.

Roadside Love

I took one of the canyon roads to the Valley today.  At the base of the hill, there was a handmade, painted sign that said:

I [heart] my Angil.

About 500 yards further, there was another, smaller sign made from a different piece of wood that said:

I [heart] U 2.

Gratitude.

I've been so engulfed in trying to raise money for our little project this fall, that I hadn't fully realized the feat we were attempting.  Once we launched our fundraising campaign, my only thought was, "This has to happen.  It will happen.  There's no turning back."  I put my head down, got sucked into social networking and was attached to the internet: Every. Waking. Moment.

After finally getting a good night's sleep and waking up to the 6-digit figure in our PayPal account - it hit me.  That's a ton of money.  And it all came in 5 and 10 dollar increments from our friends, our family, fans and supporters.  It came from people who didn't have $5 to spare, but they believed in us and pledged anyway.

It still doesn't feel real.  But I'm counting each and every dollar as a little piece of sunshine.  Mostly because each one of those dollars has a person attached.

I love strangers you see so often they feel like friends.

There is a father/son duo that takes their morning walk everyday through Palisades Park as I sweat my way through boot camp.  I've never eavesdropped on this 40-something dad and his adorable 3ish-year old. I usually just see them pass and think, "Wow, people in Santa Monica are beautiful. What the heck is in the water?"

Today, I thought I heard someone speaking much too loudly on their cell phone and interrupting our yoga-esque cool down.  Half-annoyed, I turned to see who the perpetrator was and realized it was my favorite little duo; no cell phone in sight.  He was praising his little boy for picking up a piece of trash in the park.

"That's like when daddy goes surfing and sees trash in the ocean.  I pick it up and put it in my wetsuit to help keep the ocean clean.  And you're doing it here to keep the park pretty.  I'm so proud of you." 

Bonding together in crappy times

I am an official financial contributor to the City of Los Angeles.  I'm, like, a professional.

Today, not only did the City of LA tow my car, they left a pretty red and white ticket on my windshield for an extra $158 on top of the $262 it cost to get my car back.  There's no sunshine in any of those numbers.  And I wasn't smiling as I was stranded at a Hollywood coffee shop calling friends for a ride.

However, when I arrived at the tow lot, things got a little sunnier.

It's not a welcoming place; with it's coded metal gate and uniformed staff standing behind bullet proof glass with a speaker and small slot to pass my credit card through.  But as I walked up, there were two other "official contributors" trying to retrieve their cars.  They smiled through their frustration and said, "Welcome to the Los Angeles towing club.  You're an official member now...isn't it exciting?!"

This put me in a slightly better mood as I hopped on the golf cart with one of the Hollywood Tow staff members to find my car.  He couldn't have been nicer.  I had already planned to enter this place with a calm demeanor -- I mean, it's just their job...not their fault.  But this guy made it so easy.  We commiserated about the City of LA and how much they charge for everything and we shared stories about being locals and still making stupid tourist mistakes.

All in all a good experience.  But talk to me when I can't pay rent next month.
Whatevs.

I love being "older" now

Nothing can replace experience and time.  Nothing.

And both of those gifts have made me a much more patient and understanding person.  (Well, relatively...as some of my friends would tell you.)

Age allows you to read comments like the following and not explode with anger or offense. In fact, they make you roll your eyes instead and want to buy this person a drink or send them a nice card (or introduce them to the modern convenience of spell check):

"you are a bunch of librals. move to france. hybrids are worse for the enviroment. to get the material for the batterys they have to dig very deep. maby the will stop doing this when they get arrested. they are vandilizeing propety. not beautifing it."
--ms290guy1999

This was in response to this video:

I can't wait to give this sticker to a stranger.

These Boots Are Made For Walking

I went to Mindshare LA tonight to talk about the Do Good Bus and had such a great experience.  It's the first networking event I've been to that didn't have the awkward moments, the long explanations of why I should invest in someone's film, etc.

They also had some really cool projects on display including a ping pong table that rocks back and forth by Synn Labs and the Leisure Listening Lounge by Super Tall Paul.

As I sat down in the listening lounge and grabbed my very own pair of headphones (next to the 12 other people sitting in a U-shape in front of Super Tall Paul), I couldn't wait to see what he'd play for us.  We were literally sitting in the middle of this event with people chatting and sipping on beer -- but our little group of twelve had our very own private concert.

Super Tall Paul played everything and looped it (similar to Jon Brion) and made jokes in between.  I was giddy when I realized he was doing a cover of These Boots Are Made For Walking.  Most definitely a favorite.  And it added to may already "high on life" evening.

Yay, L.A.

Yeah, I'm in a band.

Almost every morning at boot camp on the beach there's a moment where I have to concentrate in order to hold in a giggle.

As we're warming down, there's a moment where we all stand -- arms to our side, palms facing out and in this sort of staggered line formation.  We turn our heads to look left and then slowly to look right.

And every time I look in the direction where I can see everyone else in the class -- we are the perfect album cover for some sporty girl band.

Nice Try

Today, my iPhone corrected "dogooders" to "sphincters".

Trying to make me laugh, iPhone, is not going to change that I'm angry with you right now. 

There's always a moment

We had a massive event this weekend and at some point I was handing out 3D glasses to the masses.  It's amazing what people will do for free things and how manners and dignity seem to disappear.

I was being mobbed by people and noticed a little girl (no more than two years old) in the middle of the madness sort of confused as to what was happening.  I ignored parents with outreached arms repeating they needed 10 and 12 pairs of glasses and leaned down to hand the little girl a pair.  She had no idea what they were, but accepted my gift.

I continued to pass glasses out by the handful and was astounded by how rude people were.

A few minutes later, I realized there was something pulling on my pant leg.  I turned around and the little girl was standing at my feet, no taller than my knee.  She looked right at me and just said, "Thank you."

I'm not sure I would have made it through my day without that little girl.

Hi guy.

I couldn't eat him.  I just couldn't.

I don't want the butt.

Went on a mission to find a pork shoulder picnic today.  This is not a bunch of pork on a checkered blanket.  It's a cut of pig.  Not to be confused with the pork shoulder butt.

Seriously.

My local butcher was a little disappointed he couldn't help, but suggested the only place I might find it (on the Westside) was in Inglewood.

I had to work my way through broken Spanish at the butcher counter and finally got passed to the head butcher man.  He knew exactly what I wanted and said, "That's a lot of meat.  You sure you know what you're talking about."

"Yes, sir."

I explained we were going to smoke it "southern style" and needed to have part of the leg still attached.  He paused a moment, smiled and said, "Sounds amazing."

"Well it is, actually.  My mom will be in town this weekend and we're doin' it right."

I can't say that I've ever met a mean butcher, but this guy was extra special nice to me.  He went in the back and cut exactly what I was looking for.

I think he was mostly impressed that I knew my meat.

I dare you not to dance.

Actually, I dare you TO dance.
Right now.
Stand up from your desk, get out of bed...Turn. This. Up.

It's the kind of music I put on in traffic and play it over and over and over.  And I shake in my seat and envision myself running and dancing and swinging my arms.

I dare you.

Considerate

There are many things I'd like to be called in this life.  But one that's important to me even if seems sort of bland and/or small is: considerate.

To me, considerate is about thinking of other people and putting that thought into action.

For example, opening the door for someone is nice and thoughtful, but it wouldn't go into my considerate actions folder.  I think they are much smaller actions.  Actions that people may not even notice -- even if it was meant specifically for them.

CASE IN POINT:  I've been doing a lot of work from coffee shops lately and I adore the people who plug their bulky computer cables into the bottom socket on the wall...leaving the top one open for a needy stranger. 

Game on.

You may or may not know this game:

In fact, if you know that game, you probably just turned your head from the screen immediately and may not even be reading this now.  Because you know it so well.

There's a game very similar to this -- only better.  And I keep getting schooled by a 4-year-old.

Basically, you need to surprise someone with this face:

If that surprised someone looks directly at your face, then they have no other choice than to immediately lay down -- no matter the situation.



Today, I received an email with the subject line:  Preschool Graduation Day Pix!

Um...so of course, I very excitedly opened it.  And I got burned.  Burned bad.  The 4-year-old continues to beat me.

Snails

I have an amazing joke about a snail.  You'll have to ask me about it someday.

I thought of it today because I was discussing mailing something to my client and she said, "Oh, you mean via snail mail?"

Well, yeah.
But getting real mail...mail you can touch and rip open is kind of awesome.
I suppose mostly when it's handwritten as opposed to a bill...but still.

And today I came home to TWO snail mails.  Handwritten and everything.
Pretty sure that's NEVER going to get old for me.

Goosebumps

Those little guys have been coming up a lot lately.  I mentioned the TEDx Talk I went to recently and one of the speakers asked the audience -- "When's the last time you had goosebumps?  When's the last time you had a physical, chemical reaction to something that moved you?"

I couldn't think of mine.  I was a little bummed.

But since that question was asked, the subject (and appearance) of those little bumps seem to be around every day.  And what's so, so, so awesome is OTHER people are getting them based on news I've been sharing.

News that I, unfortunately, can't share here just yet.  But it involves the Do Good Bus and a super exciting project for the fall.

And I can't wait for all the goosebumps that will be had starting in September.

Happy of myself

Went to TEDx Santa Monica last night and one of the speakers opened with this:



You're welcome.

Moments of sweet, sweet heaven.

I showed up early to Boot Camp this morning -- which was most definitely a first. (You can talk to my dad about how much of a morning person I am.)

But as I walked up and noticed I was the first one there (even before my coach!), I was immediately transported to my junior year in high school.

I had morning swim practice every weekday at 5:30am.  And I can't remember a sweeter feeling than pulling up and seeing the clock said 5:25am.  That meant I had exactly 4 more minutes to lean my seat back and close my eyes.

Heaven.

Military Sex

Today, there was a new person in my bi-monthly massive meeting with a client in Irvine.  I noticed him, but didn't question who he might be.

As the meeting started, my client asked him to introduce himself and he explained that he was an intern with the company and was excited to learn about and eventually be part of the team.  I was sort of stuck on the word intern, because he appeared to be in his late 30s and was in a very nice business suit.  My mind was racing with possible explanations of why he had a position that college students usually hold.

As he went on and I tuned back in, he explained he was a Marine and had recently finished his duty and was now joining the workforce.  I have no idea why, but I started to tear up a little.  I was so proud of this complete stranger.

Then I realized I might cry amongst 30 other people in the room and needed a distraction.

I immediately remembered a Love Line episode where Psycho Mike went on a tirade about people jumping at any opportunity to sleep with a celebrity -- no matter who it was; ugly, old, out-of-date, overweight.  He was angry.  He pleaded with his audience that the people who deserved to be slept with, sight unseen (in a bar bathroom, even), were people fighting for our country.  It was hilarious.

Hearing Mike's jokes in my head dried up the tears quickly, but it also evoked a giggle.  Out loud.  During this poor man's introduction.

I was mortified.  I seriously considered giving the guy a hug to say sorry. Oh man.

It doesn't feel real.

Today, at 1:59pm -- I hit enter on my keyboard and officially became DEBT FREE.

After 10 years in the making, it's a bit anticlimactic really.  I celebrated with a nice glass of wine tonight.  But overall, I feel the same.

Just ever so slightly lighter.

Big Decisions

Picking nail polish at the salon is a process.  What color does this season feel like?  What's my mood?  What color did I have last time?  WHAT'S THE NAME OF THE NAIL POLISH?

Its important.  Like picking wine for the label or a book for it's cover.

Today:  Sea of Change
Because it fits my life right now.
And because its pink.

Stick shifts and safety belts

I had such a great Saturday.  And it was primarily because I rode around like this all day.

(Note this vehicle is a stick shift.  I've missed hands on driving so much.)

Special thanks to two friends this weekend.  One let me borrow her puppy and the other his truck.

I-gotta-go

Went to the Amoeba in-store performance for Foster The People and was waiting in front for some friends to show up.  As they walked up and the security guard was letting them in, I felt slightly nervous.  The whole bouncer/security situation makes me feel like a little kid breaking the rules sometimes.  I'm always slightly scared they won't let me in or will be rude or I'll get sent to the back of line.

Issues.  I know.

As the guard lifted the rope for my friend (with his 3 year-old in tow), he looked right at the kid and said, "What's up little guy? Do you need to go to the bathroom?"  My friend responded, "No, we just went."


The guard smiled, "Are you sure?  I've seen that face on my kids before, that's the I-gotta-go face.  I can let you in the staff bathroom right here.  It's no problem."

My friend took him up on the offer.  (And it was a good thing he did.)

I was just glad to see a bouncer-type have a little heart.

La Fin

Went to The Pint tonight and added it to my list of reasons maybe I SHOULDN'T move from the Westside.

I walked up to the bar and noticed there was a guy waiting on the other side and he nervously eyed me and then the bartender.  I could tell he thought I might get served first even though he'd clearly been waiting.  (Which could have been the case, really.  This IS a bar where the bartender knows my name.  Yessss.)

However, she went to him first and then took my order.  I watched as she placed what seemed to be MY bottle in front of him: the large version of La Fin Du Monde.  Delish.  As she turned the bottle I noticed it was actually Maudite -- made by the same brewery, just a different flavor.

She asked, "How many glasses?"
He put up his first finger and shyly smiled, "Just one."

She walked over to me and placed my very similar bottle in front of me and asked the same question.
I answered, with my finger in the air and a quick roll of the eyes, "Just one."

She looked back and forth and said, "You guys are made for each other!"

I smiled at him and he gave me a half-assed grin as I had a small moment of sunshine.

At the end of the night as I closed my tab, my trusty bartender said, "Did that guy come talk to you?!  I told him you were single."

Nah, he didn't.

Doesn't he know it's almost The End of the World (La Fin Du Monde)

and he'll be Dammed (Maudite) soon so he should have just said hello?!

Autocorrect

Sometimes you just have to leave the autocorrect.

I got non alcoholic drunks.

B to the H

I pulled into a parking spot this morning in the oh, so lovely Beverly Hills and heard a honk behind me.  I turned to see what the issue was and there was a white-haired woman in her Mercedes Benz staring at me with her window rolled down.

In the most nasally, whiny voice she screamed, "Excuuuse me, but your blinker appears to be broken.  You better get it checked out and get it fixed."

She huffed and puffed and drove away.  There was a guy standing outside his car next to me who saw the whole thing go down.  I immediately looked at him for reassurance and he just laughed.

"Isn't this city great?!"

Was so glad someone was there with me to witness everything Beverly Hills has to offer. 

Puppy Love

I spent three days with the cutest puppy ever.  Ever.  And I'm pretty sure I smiled straight for all 72 of those hours.  I had no idea I'd fall so fast.

Not only was she a cuddler, but I met more strangers in 3 days than I have this entire year.  I saw men get down on all fours to say hello and kids giggle with that most amazingly sweet sound.

I want, I want, I want.

Carpool lane!

Not really.  But look who will be riding with me to work for the next few days.

Puppies ALWAYS make your day better.

Meet, Moo.  Miss Moo.

Ti Amo

I grabbed this from a photo contest GOOD Magazine is having.  I love, love, love this.  The Post-it notes all say Ti Amo (I love you).

One day that'll be my car (or my office or my bed or my....).  One day.

Breakfast. In. Bed.

That is all.

Online Giggles

Signing in to various websites is getting more and more involved.  They've changed "What's your mother's maiden name?" to all sorts of different questions.  And some sites require you attach an image, a word AND a password to your account in order to ensure it's you.

Thanks, I guess.  For protecting me from hackers.

On one particular site as I was scrolling through all my picture options, I knew EXACTLY which one to pick.  My friend Elaine had a crazy experience where she SWORE there was a baby rhinoceros in her room.  And every time I see one (ya know, all the time in Los Angeles), I think of her.

I hardly ever log in, but every time I do It's fun to have a giggle and a little reminder of someone special in my life.

Better

Went to Hotel Cafe tonight to see the Ditty Bops.  So good.  So good.

I know I've mentioned this before, but there's something about that place.  It feels safe and comfortable.  Not to mention, the music is always good.  It seems that every time I'm there I have a moment where I close my eyes and breathe it all in.

And then I just feel....better.

The Clapper

I've had my head down in work mode lately and especially tonight.  I was editing the 2011 Field Day Trailer and at some point the light in my office just turned off.

Thank you for being green...but arrghh.

Out of frustration (and clearly out of being a child of the 80's) I clapped my hands and grunted.

And, you guys, the lights turned back on.
Just like that.

Clap on, bitches.

Permission

First of all, the Railroad Revival Tour was pretty ridiculous.  Good bands, good people and best encore I've seen in a long, long time. I have more to share about the ear to ear smile on a 4 year-old's face, not to mention the total shock I think he went into.  However, I'm waiting on some pictures that will do that justice.

In the meantime, here's a teaser photo and also, this happened:

As we all moved closer to the stage to prepare for Mumford & Sons, a young couple set up camp right in front of us.  They noticed we had two cute kids with us, but didn't make a big deal.  A few minutes later, the guy turned around with a joint in his hand and with the most sincere eyes said, "Do you mind if I light up in front of your kids?"

I couldn't believe he'd even think to ask.  So kind.

It may never get old...

Hung out with my bro tonight while they were shooting a new music video.  Always fun to be on a shoot and be thankful that I'm not in production.  I admit that I AM a crazy event manager type, but film production is just so much hurry up and wait, load in, load out, pack in, pack out.  Ugh.

After the final loud out, we headed to an event for drinks and live music (ahem, some secret Strokes show) and just as the dance floor was getting crowded, the DJ played a Foster The People song.  It's exciting to hear it, it just is.  And feels like it always will be.

Well, thanks.

I was at Trader Joe's today wandering aimlessly around carrying an Easter Lily and a guy walked right past me, didn't turn around and said, "Those flowers look nice on you."  He just kept going and I was left standing with a smile on my face.

Happy Easter week!

This might be a three-fer

A few months back I posted an amazing video of an amazing 4-year-old singing "The Cave" by Mumford & Sons.

If you could see the look on his face every time Mumford & Sons pops up on shuffle, you'd probably make the same effort my friend Kenneth did to get that boy some tickets to their sold out show.  He posted an ad on Craigslist that included my blog post and simply asked for someone to have mercy on us (and the cutest kid in the world) and sell us face value tickets.

Welllll, it worked!  We just scored two tickets at face value to the Railroad Revival Tour from a lovely human being who isn't trying to sell her tickets for double what they're worth.

Faith in humanity: Restored.

(And I'm sure there will be a third post about this kid after we surprise him with a train ride down to San Pedro to see his favorite band live!)

Excuse me miss...

I was headed back to our homebase at Coachella and I heard a voice from behind me, "Excuse me, miss...where are your stripes?"

I turned to see a very cute boy (man, I suppose) in a full length, pink with purple stripes, footed pajama outfit.  The pink was almost exactly the same shade of my solid pink dress.

I smiled and told him that he had clearly stolen all my stripes.  "And wow!, aren't you hot?!"
(ya know, it's like 100 degrees here)

He grinned and said, "I don't know.  Am I?"

"Ha, clever."

"Yeah, well I've been working on it all day."

Next kids birthday I attend, I will be bringing these.

(and tequila shots for the adults)

Resolved.

I was selected to be on a jury, but our case was resolved pretty quickly.  Jury selection took two full days and we never got to hear full details or testimonies.

Jury duty is always so intriguing to me.  You live your life everyday in Los Angeles in your little circle of friends and think everyone is just like you.  And then you spend a day in court.  LA truly has every type of person.  I caught myself making immediate judgments based on people's answers to the judge's questions.  Just as I'm sure people were passing judgment on this blond girl in pig-tails from Santa Monica.

However, once the general what-do-you-do and where-are-you-from questions were answered, I was blown away by what we all had in common.  Out of almost 60 jurors, it appeared that nearly 80% of us had either been raped or assaulted or knew someone very close to us who had.  I was floored.  We were all different ages, races, local and not.  And hands just kept going in the air as the judge repeated the question to new jurors, "Have you or anyone close to you ever been assaulted or raped."

The defense lawyer did her best to try to keep things light when it was her turn to ask us questions.   But, for me, hearing the word rape had already changed my demeanor.  Both the defense lawyer and the judge were questioning jurors on specifics of their incidents.  Where?  When?  Did you know the person?  Did you call the police?

Whoa, hold on.  Who's on trial here?

Even though we never made it to the actual case, the experience was intense for me.  Hearing stories from people who clearly wanted (and needed) to be heard.  Hearing from a brother who knew his sister had been raped, but wasn't sure of the final outcome or if he even really believed her.

I AM that blond girl from Santa Monica and I started to feel guilty and naive.  But I also had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the family and friends I have.

And that defense lawyer...well, she managed to make me smile and shake my head in embarrassment (for her).  She asked us all at once if we had ever been in a stormy relationship.  And if we had, did we know what make-up sex was.  Everyone giggled and shook our heads yes.  She then asked, "Does anyone NOT know what make-up sex is?"  A little old Asian lady in the front row raised her hand.

"Oh, okay.  Well, Juror #9 can you please explain to Juror #17 what make-up sex is?"

"Uh, sure.  It's, like, the best sex there is."

There should always be time for a deserved high five.

Per usual, I was running late to jury duty this morning.  I was literally running from the parking garage to the crosswalk and had to slow down briefly to wait for the light.

There was a little girl and her father waiting and I barely acknowledged their existence. I was adjusting my bag to prepare for a good run and I heard her say, "I lost my tooth."

The light changed and I stepped into the crosswalk but they stayed behind.  She said it again, "I lost my tooth."

Still hustling forward, I turned to see if she was talking to me. We made eye contact and she pointed at the hole in her mouth and said, "Like right now! I just lost my tooth."

I regret that I thought I didn't have time to run back and give her a high five.  Lame.  But I did smile and scream back, "That's awesome!  I hope the tooth fairy comes tonight."

Juror #10

I begrudgingly headed to jury duty today.  Which is funny, because I'm kind of a nerd and actually really like jury duty.  But this time around, it seemed to be getting in the way of my life, not to mention having me up at the crack of dawn.

Turns out, the day wasn't all that bad.  And because I'm a nerd, I take the whole secrecy thing pretty seriously.  So I'm not gonna share just yet.  But looks like I'm on a case starting tomorrow and I already have good little bits to share.

Just can't do it until the case is over.

So, until then....here's a fun LA jury duty tip for ya:
If you're summoned to the 210 W Temple Courthouse and need to get to the 11th floor...go ahead and wave to the people waiting in the massive line at the floors 2-11 elevator and hop on the 12-19 elevator.  Walk down one flight of stairs...and viola! you're there in half the time.

Why are kids always right?

I was over at a friend's house tonight and as it became past bedtime and the ever popular...witching hour, my friend's kids were starting to get a little slap-happy and pushy.

The three year-old, after specifically being told not to, grabbed a full glass of water and started gulping away.  His dad grabbed the glass, put it on the table and looked at his son with those disciplinary, but smiling eyes and said, "Honey McChild!  You are, you arrre..."

McChild ducked under his dad's arms running towards his room saying, "Sweet.  I'm sweet.  Sweeeeet."

Observant, much?

I have a piggy bank made out of a coconut that I got in Costa Rica (ahem, humble brag) last year.  Since then, I've been adding coins to it and not paying much attention.

Today, as I was adding money to the little guy's back, I realized every time you put a coin in his ears wiggle.

That thing was worth every penny.

It doesn't get much better.

I got a text from my roommate that I had a present waiting for me at home. [Exciting!]

Gift fly-bys are awesome no matter what.  And SECRET gift fly-bys are even better.  Looks like girl's handwriting on the note...but I have NO IDEA who it's from.

Um, awesome.
(and Happy Easter to YOU, mystery gift giver)

Not a bad combo...

Word.

Every time I'm shutting down my computer and I look at the top corner to select and shut down each program, the following goes through my head:

"Dreamweaver, [click], Quit Dreamweaver.
Chrome, [click], Quit Google Chrome.
Word, hahaha wooord, [click], grin, Quit Microsoft Word."

It makes the end of the day that much better.

Look at that...

Was doing laundry tonight and a man walked in to get some change.  Another man followed in behind him screaming, "Stop looking at my ass.  Stop. Looking. At. My. Ass."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up.  After he walked out, the lady next to me said, "Ugh, laundry mats are getting crazy."  I just smiled and nodded.

About 5 minutes later a young guy who had been finishing up his laundry started to walk out and said, "Alright guys, I'm leaving.  Don't look at my ass as I go out the door."

Made me smile.

Yes, please.

(courtesy of this site and Ms. Bonnie Hawthorne)

Details, details, details.

I get made fun of sometimes for spending too much time adding little details to a project or a present.  But, man, I think they count.

This week has been proof (for me, at least).

I received gifts inside a gift from two people:
Jim Bianco and TOMS

TOMS shoes now come with a handwritten letter from the owner (okay, it's printed, but it looks handwritten -- and not in the overly cheezy way) and a bracelet.  Jim Bianco not only sent his CD, but magnetic poetry, a button and a postcard.

Maybe it's getting harder for musicians to break the mold, get people's attention.  Maybe that's unfortunate.  But I'll take gifts!

First time ever.

I'm not sure why taking daily vitamins is so hard.  I usually get motivated, take them daily for 2 weeks and then somehow I just stop.

I can safely say I've NEVER finished a bottle of vitamins.
Until I found GUMMY ones.
Thanks, Trader Joes.

Drinks on me!

We had an event for LAGG tonight and one of our volunteers offered to take us out for drinks.  He was very generous and bought us dinner and rounds and rounds of drinks.  He was so proud of our work and what we're doing.  And to be totally honest, it felt good for someone to spoil us.

But what kept sort of blowing me away was how naturally he got up from his chair every time I did.  I ran to the bathroom.  Up.  I ran to grab an extra napkin.  Up.  In mid-sentence no less.

Old school (unforced) manners are so great.

Two wheels, please.

Sooo....the couple days of bike/train commuting proved to be pretty great.  I couldn't believe how much better it made me feel.  Not to mention the things you see/hear/smell when you're not stuck in the bubble of your car.

• Glendale smells AMAZING.  Something is blooming there and...whoa...so yummy.
• Hearing the city go by is invigorating.
• A lot of people smoke weed in Los Angeles.  In their cars, on the sidewalk, on their front porch...

And because it was so great, I'm committing to getting from Santa Monica to Santa Clarita using public transport/my bike/my legs once a week for the next two months.

It feels official if I commit to it here.  Feels like I have someone keeping me accountable.

Frozen

My friends that are adopting found out yesterday they are one step (one HUGE step) closer to making it all a reality.  And I was lucky enough to be there shortly after they found out.

Getting the news was a little anti-climatic for them though.  They didn't have a piece of paper, an email with a guarantee, a handshake...it was just a phone call from their translator explaining everything was happening.

As we all sat at the dinner table there was a sort of surreal cloud hanging over us.  My friend starting opening a bottle of champagne and passed it to her husband to finish.  As she made the handover -- the top exploded, hit the roof and there was a fountain of champagne pouring onto the floor.

There was a brief moment of stunned silence and then we all burst into uncontrollable laughter.  It most definitely broke any tension in the room and felt like a sign that everything REALLY was happening.

The toddlers and I continued to giggle while mom and dad smiled at one another and gave each other a kiss.

It was one of those moments you want to freeze in time.

To speak to an agent, press 3.

I have been in the perpetual nightmare that is the LA Courthouse/DMV system for over a year now.  And after automated phone calls, website floundering and multiple certified letters; my license was meant to officially be suspended on March 12.  All for a fix it ticket from almost 2 years ago.

At first, I thought, "Perfect.  A reason to take public transport.  I'll save some money on insurance.  No more parking tickets."  And then I started freaking out.

After 17 calls in a row to the DMV, I finally spoke to a very nice woman who knew of a "loop hole" in getting things expedited.  I followed all of her advice and put together a packet to send to the LA Superior Courthouse.  I also included a post-it-note that said, "I know your job is frustrating.  Thank you for what you do! [smiley face]"  It should be noted the packet also included a $10 Abstract Notice Fee.

The only way to see if my packet worked was to call the DMV everyday to see if the Courthouse had contacted the DMV.  So I did.  Everyday. For 10 days.  And today, two days before D Day, it worked!

Moral of the story:
Nice little notes work!
But, more likely:  Pay off the government if you need something done.

Neighborhood Love

Been meaning to get my bike fixed for the past month and have been waiting to conveniently run into my cute neighbor who works at Helen's.  Figured I'd ask him for a quick favor and offer a six pack of beer in return.

Well after a hellish day in the car today, I decided I wanted to park my car for the rest of the weekend which means I needed my bike fixed ASAP.

Headed down to our little neighborhood bike shop and was in and out in 10 minutes.  At some point it came up that my neighbor worked at Helen's, blah blah blah.  As I was leaving, the owner said, "Alright see ya later, happy biking."

Then he looked me right in the eye and smiled, "And thank you for not going to Helen's."

I'd be a blocker, not a jammer. For sure.

Went to Roller Derby tonight and, as usual, there's always a conversation about what YOUR derby name would be if you skated.

Some of the ladies have such great ones:
Janis Choplin
Tara Armov
Roxy Cotton
Titty Titty Bang Bang
Gori Spelling

Typically I have pretty awful ideas for mine.  And I get oddly sad about not having a potential name for a sport I don't even intend to play.

But tonight, it happened.  We came up with my perfect Roller Derby name:
Punchess Pilate

Yessss.

Girls are many things, but not usually jerks.

We have a pretty obnoxious -- very Santa Monica -- crosswalk about a block from my house.  It is also the crosswalk I use every morning to get my coffee.  It has huge yellow signs on both sides, flashing lights on the ground (when you push the button) and pretty high pedestrian traffic so everyone typically slows down on that section of Ocean Park Blvd.

This particular morning was going very well -- early to rise, morning at the beach, friendly encounters at the coffee shop...

And then...the crosswalk.

As I walked out, coffee in hand and still smiling about my favorite barista, I looked both ways and noticed a car was slowing down for me to cross.  I stepped out slightly, looked him right in the eye and waved to say thanks.  As I made my way across I heard, "PUSH THE BUTTON YOU JERK!"

The seventy-year-old man behind the wheel of his Prius fully stopped his car, leaned out and most definitely called me a jerk.  In ALL CAPS.  I was stunned.

As I made it to the other side, a woman screamed back, "Calm down.  Have a nice day!" And then to me she said, "Oh, the nerve of people.  Pedestrians have the right of way.  Some people just get their feathers ruffled.  I hope YOU still have a nice day."

Love this.

[courtesy of postsecret.com]

Dirt don't hurt. (Part II)

Spent part of my day at the Natural History Museum trying to convince kids to get their hands dirty by making seed bombs.  You'd be surprised how much convincing it took.  A lot of kids scrunched up their nose, looked at the dirt, looked at me, looked at their hands and then said, "No thanks."

Unbelievable!

However, my friend Tim (who's a big kid turning 30 this month!) was more than willing to dig in and even sacrifice his brand new jeans for the cause.

Let's all promise to teach our kids dirt is okay.

Stealing this....

Heard someone say this and it made me smile.  I want to adopt it.

"Stop it!  You're lying through your face."

Mañana

As you may or may not know, I'm involved in some causes.  Some good causes.  Like LA Guerrilla Gardening, The Do Good Bus and Friends of El Faro.

But today I really got to be a part of something.  Something good.  Awe-inspiring.

I have two friends who have been trying to adopt a teenager from an orphanage in Tijuana, Mexico for over 4 years.  They've hit every possible roadblock along the way and have shared their story and their frustration with friends, family and strangers.  Regardless if you hear the short version or know every detail of their journey -- it's maddening to think that two people who are trying so hard to help a teenager in need of a family, continue to be slowed down by red tape, absent judges, new laws, cultural divide, fees and more fees.

Enter: awe-inspiring.

In two weeks their teenager will have a birthday that will make her "too old" for adoption.  Which means the Mexican government has 14 days to sign off on an adoption that has been in the system for 4 years.  That's over 1500 days their teenager has remained in the orphanage.  Waiting.  Wondering if it was all a lie.

Today, myself and another friend of the couple were meant to testify in front of the judge.  To prove they were capable, responsible and loving parents.  The judge would also speak to their teenager one last time: the FINAL step.

As we all stood in the lobby, dressed our best and sharing nervous smiles, the lawyer came over to explain something in Spanish.  I tried my best to understand and knew the only word my friends could hear was: mañana, mañana, mañana.
I looked over at my friends as my heart sank to my feet.  I expected nothing less than to see one of them collapsing to the floor in tears and just pure exhaustion.  But even with sad eyes, they both put on a smile and tried to understand as it was translated to English.  The judge wasn't here for their appointment.  Their witnesses could testify, but their teenager would have to come back tomorrow to meet with the judge.  No exceptions.

Standing in the courthouse with my friends, watching "Mama" at the orphanage cry and seeing this lovely teenage girl smile....it was all so inspiring.  And I'm so honored that I could be a very, very small part of bringing Ruth home.

People are good.  They really are.  And I know two of the good-est out there.

The Huxtables

Today wasn't great.

But it did end with my roommate and I watching a small marathon of Cosby Shows.  (Thank you, Netflix Watch Instantly)

I grew up on that show.  And it's just as amazing today as it was then.

You'll need to watch this.
(or save it for a rainy day)

And I'll be sure to post video of my family in various similar situations once I gather them.

Perfect Moments

I was really excited to see some old friends in Sydney and meet their kids for the first time.  These kids are seriously so cute I just want to eat them.

On my last day, we all headed to the beach for coffee and a last glance at The Pacific from this side of the world.  As my friend and his three-year-old daughter were walking hand in hand, she stopped in her tracks and looked up at her dad.

"Daddy.  I love you whole world, so much."

Melt.

She's Like The Wind

I took a shuttle from Torquay to the Avalon Airport just outside of Melbourne on what seemed like one of the windiest days ever.

A few of us had just spent the morning trying to swim in Bells Beach without our skin peeling off from being sandblasted.  Seriously.  That said, the water was amazing and the views spectacular...but holy moly, 40mph sand hurts.

On the ride, it was just me and the shuttle driver and so far, it had been a pretty quiet ride.  The shuttle was being pushed around a bit by the wind, but nothing too out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, the wind pushed the shuttle almost completely into the other lane and after he corrected the wheel, the driver said, "It's a bit like dancing with the wife that doesn't want to dance."

You'd need to hear the accent to get the full effect, but it made me smile.

Baby Steps

I did my fair share of whirlwind backpacking trips in Europe and Australia in my early twenties. (Man, I think that's the first time I've used that phrase - "in my early twenties" - makes me feel...so...adult?)

This also means I spent a ton of time wandering around airports.  When we were traveling on a budget and carrying only what we needed, I used to love passing by the Duty Free shops to snag a spray of perfume.  That little squirt always made me feel like I was traveling for business or perhaps with my husband on a grand vacation.

On this trip, as I passed the Duty Free Shop and realized I hadn't put perfume on that morning...I thought, "Perfect, I'll just grab a quick spray here."  Memories of Europe and eating bread and cheese for every meal and wearing the same pants three days in a row immediately ran through my head.

And as much as I loved those trips and the adventure and being dirty, dirty, dirty...I was surprised how happy I was that I travel just slightly above those means now.

Power and Love

Was wandering around a mall today and walked by a store playing a familiar song.

I leaned in slightly to make sure I was hearing right and then smiled...it indeed was the song I thought.

The two guys behind the counter gave me a confused look and I smiled and said, "That's my brother's band....was just making sure I heard it right."

"Get out of here! That's your brother?!"

"Yeah. It's crazy to hear it here." [in Australia]

"Right on. I love this band! Power and love to you and your bro. Tell him to keep making great music."

Honesty

I was riding the ferry to Manly Beach and this little girl, all of 5 years old, came running up the stairs singing, "I'm all by myseeeelf, my dad's downstaiiiirs. I'm all by myseeeelf...."

She smiled at everyone and walked over to two twentysomething goth girls with multiple piercings in their faces.

She sat down next to them, swinging her legs and said, "Hi. What are those things on your face?"

"These? They're jewelry."

"Why do you have them?"

"Ummm...I don't know actually. Because I like them. I think they look nice. Do you like them?"

The little girl cocked her head to one side and stared at the piercings. "Nope. I think they're kind of ugly."

The pierced girl laughed and said, "Well you're allowed to like whatever you want."

"I know."

The little girl continued to swing her legs and all three of them smiled as they stared out at the ocean.

When people are really good at what they do

After I heard my name called at the doctor's office, I mustered up the energy to walk through the door and wondered if the nurse thought I was a homeless person.  No bra.  Pajama pants.  Hair pulled back in a ponytail after falling asleep on a wet head.

He looked at me and said the usual greeting, "How are you?"

"Mmmm.  I'm.....I'm ok." I said with a completely pitiful face.

"Don't worry.  I'm here."

Didn't realize those two words could mean so much.

V Dub

This commercial kept a smile on my face all afternoon.  Love it.
(Thanks, Aaron!)

Barma?

Well, that's officially a pretty lame title.  But what's not lame is what happened at the bar last night.

We asked the bartender for some napkins and somehow ended up with an order of nachos (and still messy fingers).  After she realized what had happened, she told us they were on the house.  Since we were full, we offered them to the two guys next to us.

About 20 minutes later...the couple on our other side (unaware of what had happened) leaned over and said, "Do you guys want this beer?  The bartender gave us one too many."

Yes, please.

It pays to share.

Ha.

Face lotion.

Swanlike.

Awesome.