A friend posted something about the full moon tonight in his Facebook status. I could've sworn the moon was full last week. Which one of us is wrong?
I am ashamed to admit that I am compelled to watch the skanks of the Real Housewives of Orange County, and I find it interesting that now that Jeana, the only one who was pretty enough to be an actual Playmate, is gone, the show seems even skankier than ever. Could it be that she had some class?
My feet hurt.
I'm not getting enough sleep and I'm eating too much and I haven't been on my bike in a MONTH.
I think I am thinking about a new job and this worries me because my current job is kind of great. It might not be the job that's the problem.
I had mentioned awhile back that I was considering taking a writing class at UCLA Extension starting in January but it looks like the money is not readily available (I don't want to put it on a credit card; those classes are expensive) so I will wait until the spring. This is fine. I just wonder how much of my sanguinity about putting it on hold is due to the fact that I might be scared. That's fine, too. It's just something to think about. Also, I'm not sure if I used "sanguinity" properly. Spell check keeps thinking it's misspelled. The word I'm really looking for would mean "acceptance." Whatever: I'm tired.
I had a weekend off from being in the booth, and I go back tomorrow after a very busy day (errands around town in the morning, then a concert at Lamp Community in downtown Los Angeles for the residents there, then a flute lesson, then hopefully a nap on Patty's couch), and I'm totally looking forward to it, but at the same time it's a lot to do. And this month is just getting busier.
Finally, Patrick doesn't like my new banner, and I'm trying to figure out if it's him, or me. I like it, but that might be because I made it. Now I'm not sure. I made new ones for the Stewart Copeland and Flute Choir blogs too (he likes those just fine). What do you think? It could be that he just doesn't like that stupid hat, but the hat is supposed to be stupid. I am supposed to look ridiculous. His actual comment was concerning the size of the font, but like I said, I like it. He has a very good eye for this sort of thing, though, so I don't know. Grr.
My co-workers and I may have seen a baby mountain lion on our walk today. That's really cool, but it doesn't bode well for the bunny I saw yesterday.
I'm going to bed.
'Night.
This is me.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Be vewy, vewy quiet....
At my work, like most places, I get two 15 minute breaks. Since I usually I roll into work about 11 minutes late every morning, I skip the first break and hope that my boss notices (or doesn't notice, whichever works out better for me), but later in the day, I do try to take a walk. Getting out of the office at least once is a must or else I go nuts and start thinking about my co-workers in less than friendly terms. Today I was ready to go at 3:30 but apparently there was some brouhaha from yesterday about coverage and nobody being here (I was scheduled off so I missed the whole thing)... so instead of standing around waiting for my co-workers to figure out what they should do, I went by myself.
A couple of months ago, we received a message from one of the executives warning those of us who walk (East LA! I work in East LA!) that a mountain lion had been spotted up in this area, which is literally just above the 710 freeway. There is a helicopter pad and a dog run where the sheriffs' department people bring their K-9 companions for lunch time ball breaks. There's a shooting range. It's definitely not desolate up there. In the communication we were warned not to go by ourselves, and given tips on what to do should we see a mountain lion (don't run, don't crouch down, wave your arms and try to appear larger, fight back, etc.).
In spite of the mountain lion scare, and because by going alone, I could call my friend Michael earlier in the day rather than waiting to do it on my way home, I was fine with the idea that I had just ditched my co-workers. I was walking up the hill, had just passed the fire station on my right, and I was talking to Michael about some upcoming comedy gigs he has and mocking his pantry and what he would serve a surprise guest ("What are you offering him? Cigarettes and beef jerky?") when coming toward me, down the hill, was the cutest little bunny you've ever seen. He was brown, with a big fluffy white tail. He was running, fast. I interrupted Michael and said (and by "said" you should realize that I mean "screeched") "Bunny!" Michael kept talking. Apparently at this point my voice was only audible to dogs. "Bunny!" I said. "I saw a bunny!" By this time the bunny had bounded toward me, crossed the street, and plunged himself into a big bush of flowers. I laughed - how could I not? Bunnies make me happy! - and Michael laughed, and commanded me to write about it, which I have just done.
Now, it's not that interesting, what I have just written, but it is done. I am nothing if not obedient.
When I came back and told my co-workers, who were just then gearing up to go for their own walk, one of them asked how big Mr. Bunny was. "He was pretty small," I said. "Darn," he said. "I'm starting to get hungry." Tomorrow I'm going to recommend that this particular co-worker of mine start taking solo walks. What do mountain lions eat, I wonder...
(Yes, I am aware that mountain lions probably eat bunnies. Shut up now, please.)
A couple of months ago, we received a message from one of the executives warning those of us who walk (East LA! I work in East LA!) that a mountain lion had been spotted up in this area, which is literally just above the 710 freeway. There is a helicopter pad and a dog run where the sheriffs' department people bring their K-9 companions for lunch time ball breaks. There's a shooting range. It's definitely not desolate up there. In the communication we were warned not to go by ourselves, and given tips on what to do should we see a mountain lion (don't run, don't crouch down, wave your arms and try to appear larger, fight back, etc.).
In spite of the mountain lion scare, and because by going alone, I could call my friend Michael earlier in the day rather than waiting to do it on my way home, I was fine with the idea that I had just ditched my co-workers. I was walking up the hill, had just passed the fire station on my right, and I was talking to Michael about some upcoming comedy gigs he has and mocking his pantry and what he would serve a surprise guest ("What are you offering him? Cigarettes and beef jerky?") when coming toward me, down the hill, was the cutest little bunny you've ever seen. He was brown, with a big fluffy white tail. He was running, fast. I interrupted Michael and said (and by "said" you should realize that I mean "screeched") "Bunny!" Michael kept talking. Apparently at this point my voice was only audible to dogs. "Bunny!" I said. "I saw a bunny!" By this time the bunny had bounded toward me, crossed the street, and plunged himself into a big bush of flowers. I laughed - how could I not? Bunnies make me happy! - and Michael laughed, and commanded me to write about it, which I have just done.
Now, it's not that interesting, what I have just written, but it is done. I am nothing if not obedient.
When I came back and told my co-workers, who were just then gearing up to go for their own walk, one of them asked how big Mr. Bunny was. "He was pretty small," I said. "Darn," he said. "I'm starting to get hungry." Tomorrow I'm going to recommend that this particular co-worker of mine start taking solo walks. What do mountain lions eat, I wonder...
(Yes, I am aware that mountain lions probably eat bunnies. Shut up now, please.)
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A couple things I learned while visiting Las Vegas:
During the relatively quick trip there (4 and a half hours):
Patrick has the best music for road trips. Though I may have more actual music on my iPod (over 8,000 songs but it doesn't function in his vehicle) his music has not all been listened to over and over again. My music lacks a certain amount of newness. A sampling of what we listened to from LA to Las Vegas: Meshugga (from Wikipedia: "Meshugga is a Swedish five-piece experimental metal band formed in 1987"), Captain Beefheart (Clear Spot, The Spotlight Kid), Dr. Nico, Melvins, Eric Dolphy, Bolt Thrower, Slayer, Fela Kuti. So we had some avant garde weirdo stuff, a bunch of metal, punk, jazz, afrobeat, and SLAYER. I was most pleased with the Slayer. We pulled onto the Strip listening to Fela, though, and it was perfection.
About drinking:
If one is a casual drinker (myself), i.e., I really don't drink very often anymore, maybe once every couple of months, perhaps starting things out with four gin and tonics and half of Patrick's whiskey sour in quick succession was a poor decision. Following the G&T's with a couple of Newcastles? Total insanity.
However, this face (see photo) can be eradicated quite simply: one must simply drink a ton of water and take a couple of Advil. A couple of hours later, problem solved! Let's do it all over again (with a bit of moderation this time)!
About hotels:
We stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel, which was fun, loud, young, with lots of fun stuff to listen to and see (including an in-house tattoo parlor). Our room was a bit disappointing but Candice and Adrian's mini-suite with corner windows was really nice. Well, the price was definitely right. We walked around to other hotels and casinos, and finally went to the Wynn, which is, in one word, GORGEOUS. Totally sublime. Elegant. Beautiful floors. Patrick and I had a couple of margaritas while sitting on a heated patio overlooking a lovely pool and waterfall. We were a tiny bit scruffier than the rest of the crowd, but we loved it.
On foreign languages:
While visiting the Paris casino, it is funny how funny all the ladies in the ladies room found the translations provided via speakers of "Useful phrases" from French to English ("What happens here stays here," "Would it offend you if I told you how sexy your body is?," "Oh sheet! I lost my wedding ring!"). I'll admit it: I thought it was funny, too.
On gambling:
I would prefer to spend my money on drinks and cabs.
About showgirls:
We saw the classic Vegas production Jubilee! on Saturday night at Bally's (we saw the topless show, not the earlier, family-friendly show), and it was beautiful, fun, and just a bit too long for my teeny attention span (though I suspect Patrick and Adrian will disagree). Those women have beautiful bodies and incredible posture. I got inspired to stand up straight. Shoulders back, chest out: I can do that. Also? I think I need feathers.
During the longest ride home:
It took us twice as long to get home as it did to get there. I had received tips from a few friends advising us that Sunday was a bad day to go home, but our schedule couldn't be changed. Patrick is a champ, and didn't need relieving at the wheel (that sounds different than what I was originally trying to say) (also, it took awhile for the giant mimosa I had at breakfast to wear off). Also, it's amazing what Slayer can do. We were in good spirits and had fun. And I learned: never eat an entire can of Pringles during an 8 hour drive.
Best of all, I was reminded that a road trip to Vegas with Patrick is fun, fun, fun. We laughed so much, and had a great time. More pictures later.
Patrick has the best music for road trips. Though I may have more actual music on my iPod (over 8,000 songs but it doesn't function in his vehicle) his music has not all been listened to over and over again. My music lacks a certain amount of newness. A sampling of what we listened to from LA to Las Vegas: Meshugga (from Wikipedia: "Meshugga is a Swedish five-piece experimental metal band formed in 1987"), Captain Beefheart (Clear Spot, The Spotlight Kid), Dr. Nico, Melvins, Eric Dolphy, Bolt Thrower, Slayer, Fela Kuti. So we had some avant garde weirdo stuff, a bunch of metal, punk, jazz, afrobeat, and SLAYER. I was most pleased with the Slayer. We pulled onto the Strip listening to Fela, though, and it was perfection.
About drinking:
If one is a casual drinker (myself), i.e., I really don't drink very often anymore, maybe once every couple of months, perhaps starting things out with four gin and tonics and half of Patrick's whiskey sour in quick succession was a poor decision. Following the G&T's with a couple of Newcastles? Total insanity.
However, this face (see photo) can be eradicated quite simply: one must simply drink a ton of water and take a couple of Advil. A couple of hours later, problem solved! Let's do it all over again (with a bit of moderation this time)!About hotels:
We stayed at the Hard Rock Hotel, which was fun, loud, young, with lots of fun stuff to listen to and see (including an in-house tattoo parlor). Our room was a bit disappointing but Candice and Adrian's mini-suite with corner windows was really nice. Well, the price was definitely right. We walked around to other hotels and casinos, and finally went to the Wynn, which is, in one word, GORGEOUS. Totally sublime. Elegant. Beautiful floors. Patrick and I had a couple of margaritas while sitting on a heated patio overlooking a lovely pool and waterfall. We were a tiny bit scruffier than the rest of the crowd, but we loved it.
On foreign languages:
While visiting the Paris casino, it is funny how funny all the ladies in the ladies room found the translations provided via speakers of "Useful phrases" from French to English ("What happens here stays here," "Would it offend you if I told you how sexy your body is?," "Oh sheet! I lost my wedding ring!"). I'll admit it: I thought it was funny, too.
On gambling:
I would prefer to spend my money on drinks and cabs.
About showgirls:
We saw the classic Vegas production Jubilee! on Saturday night at Bally's (we saw the topless show, not the earlier, family-friendly show), and it was beautiful, fun, and just a bit too long for my teeny attention span (though I suspect Patrick and Adrian will disagree). Those women have beautiful bodies and incredible posture. I got inspired to stand up straight. Shoulders back, chest out: I can do that. Also? I think I need feathers.
During the longest ride home:
It took us twice as long to get home as it did to get there. I had received tips from a few friends advising us that Sunday was a bad day to go home, but our schedule couldn't be changed. Patrick is a champ, and didn't need relieving at the wheel (that sounds different than what I was originally trying to say) (also, it took awhile for the giant mimosa I had at breakfast to wear off). Also, it's amazing what Slayer can do. We were in good spirits and had fun. And I learned: never eat an entire can of Pringles during an 8 hour drive.Best of all, I was reminded that a road trip to Vegas with Patrick is fun, fun, fun. We laughed so much, and had a great time. More pictures later.
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