cow gargoyles playing the guitar

Los Angeles is just full of surprises.

You know how sometimes, no matter how clean you get your home and no matter how hard you try & de-clutter and organize and have just the things you need in exactly the place they belong, you always end up with that drawer or shelf or closet or entire garage just full of .... stuff? And, like, you have a vague idea of what's in the Junk Drawer, but you haven't really looked through it in awhile? So when you do, it's full of surprises?

LA to me is like a disorganized house filled to the brim with Junk Drawers and Surprise Closets and Overflowing Garages. You never know what it will reveal to you next.

Today, on my bike ride down the Chandler Bike Path, LA revealed the following treasures:

There are four of these cow gargoyles playing the guitar on the side of a music production warehouse along the Chandler Bike Path. They are labeled "Vini, Vidi, Vici, Vaca," which, if you know your Latin, means "I came, I saw, I conquered. Cow."


In the NoHo Arts District, they paint murals on the back of industrial buildings.

And a few more treats on my totally outdated Flickr. I wonder what LA will reveal to me next? I'm rather excited to find out.

all over the map

Today is a very Seattle day here in Los Angeles. The air is cool, the sky is gray, the ground is wet. It makes me want to listen to 90's grunge music and drink coffee. I love it.

Speaking of things that I love, So You Think You Can Dance is back!* Audition shows are never as great as the top 20 shows, where you get the couples and the choreography and the group performances. BUT I still really love them because these are the episodes where you really get to see the breakers and poppers do what they're best at. They'll usually show you the whole performance of the really good ones, and it's such a treat.

In totally unrelated news, I just wanted to congratulate my friends JL and Kyann on the adoption of their baby girl! She looks like an absolute angel, and she's already getting used to having her photog pop take all kinds of pictures and video of her. She even has her own blog. We're definitely at that age where more and more of our friends are having kids, and I think it's super awesome that JL & Ky have taken the adoption route towards starting a family.

This post was all over the map, huh? And with that, I'm off to see Indy!

*If you're wondering, Hey, Dinah, does this mean your blog is going to become "All SYTYCD/Triathlon, All the Time?" Ummmm, yeah. Maybe. Whatever, you love it.

general bad-assery

I should have blogged this a week ago, but straight up? This year's Oscar party was a smash success. (Skip ahead to full-on photo album here.) Our friends Jeff & Erica came down from Seattle and while it was super awesome just to have them here to celebrate with us, they were also amazingly helpful in getting everything set up.

Erica & Jeff, our beloved friends and tireless assistants.

As usual, we decorated with various Oscar things--stars, statues, lots of silver & gold. We rolled out the red carpet and set up every room in the house for maximum viewing enjoyment. Mac pulled strings with his various connections to create some awesome prizes for the runners up in the Oscar betting pool (the winner obviously gets the cash), and Jeff bagged them up beautifully.

The rain threatened to bum out our good time, which we compensated for by putting the outdoor viewing area in the tiki hut and turning on the tv in the garage as well.

As usual, we provided lots of popcorn & movie candy for our guests, as well as a fully-stocked bar and coolers of soda, water and beer.

And the rest of our menu of food, well. It got a little out of control. In the best possible way, but still. You'll have to check Mac's blog for all the super-awesome signs he made for all of these items. I would also like to take this moment to give mad props to Jeff and Amanda, without whose cleverness we wouldn't have some of these punny masterpieces.

Here is this year's Oscar Party Menu:
Cocktails
There Will Be Bloody Marys
Funch (A recipe we created way back when Will Smith was nominated for Ali, named thus by our friend Therese who says, "It's fun, and it's punch--it's Funch!")


Hors d’Oeuvres
Ratatouille - The deconstructed ratatouille from the movie, served atop crostini with a small dollop of soft goat cheese.

Michael Bacon-Wrapped Dates
Pirates of the Caribbean Dip - My crowd-pleasing 7-layer dip
No Cornbread for Old Men - Texas-style cheesy jalapeno cornbread
La Brie en Rose - Baked brie stuffed with toasted almonds & dried cranberries, wrapped in puffed pastry

American Gang-Stir Fry - Pinged for time, but still a super clever name
Surf & Turf's Up - Trader Joe's frozen mini crab cakes and marinated & grilled skirt steak skewers
Juno's Cravings - Sliders, (White Castle cheeseburgers from the frozen food section of the grocer!), pickles, and orange Tic Tacs

Même les Poulet vont au Enfir (Even Chickens Go To Hell) - Buffalo Wings
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Curly Fries
The Golden Quiches
Weenie Todd The Demon Barber of Meat Street - L'il smokies in grape jelly bbq sauce and a platter of gourmet cured meats
Prawn Baby Prawn - Cocktail shrimp
Norbits - Crudités
3:10 to Yummy - Cheese platter

The Popcourne Ultimatum

Dessert
Atonemint Chocolate Chip Cookies
The Diving Bell and the Butterscotch Cookies
Enchanted Apples - With caramel dip


Mad baking skillz. I haz dem.

And, of course, I also baked Oscar-shaped sugar cookies that Erica painstakingly packaged up into party favors for everyone to take home.


How do I do all of this, you ask? Well, I'm a little crazy, which helps. I have an awesome husband who is as committed to general bad-assery and also topping last year's party as I am. I also have a mighty spreadsheet to guide along Mac, me, and anyone generous/foolish enough to help us.


And then there are the results, which totally pay off all of our hard work. It's worth it knowing that our friends have an awesome time and walk away feeling like the party was really fun, even on those years when the Oscars themselves lack their usual luster.


I'm even starting to think about plans for next year's party already. Starting with hiring a caterer.

I've been cranky lately

I registered! I am officially committed to doing this triathlon sprint in Austin in June. I have so much work to do before then, OH MY GOD. Now, I am kind of scared. Holy crap.

In other non-triathlon/weight loss news, our Oscar party went swimmingly. I kind of wish it would inspire blogs like this one, but we did get some lovely thank-yous. I spent too much time on food this year, then got drunk too fast, so I didn't get to do as much socializing as I might have preferred. Such are the perils of hostessing. I'm going to start saving up now for caterers at next year's event.

Spring has sprung in Los Angeles, which means it's still cool & rainy sometimes, but mostly it's sunny and green and awesome. West Hollywood is starting to smell like jasmine & lilac, and I love it. We've started taking the dogs on these hikes up Runyon Canyon, and even though there's still a haze of pollution blanketing the city, it's still quite lovely.

In other news, that insufferable egomaniac Nader has announced he's running for President again. Really. Going to create some false dichotomies, some bullshit arguments that only you can win so you can try and look all forward-thinking and liberal without actually having to DO anything, Nader? Going to try and help jack up another election for the Democrats by trying to make some kind of "statement" again? GOD. I hate this guy, and have no respect for anyone who votes for him. Seriously. It's not like he actually wants to BE president of the United States, and he's certainly not qualified. (Foreign policy, what??) He just likes to be a pain in the ass, listen to himself talk, and get his ego stroked, and I'm over it. Well, I'm not, I hate him, but I'm just done blogging about it. For today.

If only because, I've been cranky lately. If you wanted to push my buttons & piss me off, now would be a really easy time to do it. Stuff that works really well: don't follow direction, don't stick to the schedule, don't trust me, don't listen to me, be bossy, make shit complicated that doesn't need to be complicated, and/or transform yourself into technology of some sort then stop working for no reason. So, basically, unless you're Captain Awesome or Miss Moneypenny, beware. (Mac is also in the clear, as he's been super-awesome-understanding-patient husband during this time, and I don't know how he does it but I'm sure glad I married him.) Mercury is in retrograde, I have taxes due and no idea how to do them, I've got a million reports to do, look over & fix, and I gained a rather stupid amount of weight over the Oscar weekend and it has totally bummed me out. So, cranky. And if you're reading this wondering.... Is she talking about me? Oh, probably not. Well, maybe, actually. But, you know, it's a foul mood. I'm sure I'll get over it soon.

Maybe I'll go to the garden store this weekend & get some jasmine for my yard.

HAPPY STORY/SAD STORY

HAPPY STORY TIME!
What I really want to write about today is how I registered for my triathlon over the weekend, and am super ready to go. Unfortunately, registration isn't open yet. Registration for the first city they opened up closed in just a few hours, so now I'm super nervous about getting shut out. Think positive registration thoughts for me, would you? Thank you, I really appreciate it.

That said, I'm proceeding as though I'm already registered/committed. Since announcing my commitment to this endeavor on January 30, I've started working out about five times a week. Mostly I work on my running, since I can still only jog in short bursts. I've also taken the dogs on a hike through Runyon Canyon with one of my employees, looked extensively at bikes, and gone swimming once. (Note: me trying to put on a swim cap for the first time = PURE COMEDY. Very Mrs. Bean.) I didn't work out yesterday and, even though it was probably good for my body to take a day off, I missed it. I've become obsessed with the exercise. I even bought a book about training for triathlons.

Oh, and I've also lost about 3 lbs, bringing my total weight loss for 2008 so far to almost 10 lbs. I'm so close to 10 lbs lost, in fact, that I'm already plotting out how I'm going to run the gauntlet of Valentine's meals/treats and client lunches this week. Because, I'm going to eat the truffles and the petite filet and drink the champagne. So, I make sure I'm doing 60 minutes of cardio every day instead of my average of 45.

Yeah, I don't know what alien took over my mind & body either.

SAD STORY TIME.
In unrelated news, I went to see In Bruges yesterday, which was ridiculous and wrong and surprisingly gory and funny as hell. I went to the bathroom before it started, and as I walked into my stall, I heard a young woman saying, loudly,

"Oh my god, do you think anyone will know I'm bulimic??"

And my stall door shut. I think we both realized we were in adjacent stalls at the same time, and she freaked out.

"Oh my god, IS SOMEONE ELSE IN HERE??"

Her friends responded, essentially, yeah, numnuts, it's public bathroom and you're not alone in here with your stupid eating disorder.

So she proceeded to throw up her lunch anyway.

There's really no sound more depressing than that of a young woman wretching and forcing out her lunch in the stall next to you.

I tried to finish quickly so I could avoid her at the sinks. At the same time, I wondered what I would say to her if I did have the chance. I came up with the following:
"You can't just go to the gym like the rest of us?"

"Oh yeah, bulimia's hot. Except for the swollen glands, the hair falling out, the chronic bad breath, the rotting teeth and that pesky little risk of STOPPING YOUR HEART. Dumbass."

And the meanest of all,
"You better keep it up, girl, or you could end up looking like me."

random musings

Just a couple tiny little bits before I get back to focusing on my work:
- My Google news feed today is 60% Britney's latest meltdown (Standoff at the "I'm so NOT okay, y'all" Corrall), 30% Obama's upset in Iowa (and, I guess, Huckabee's as well), 10% writer's strike and, well. Nothing else. Mind you, a fair chunk of my feeds are entertainment-related, but that still seems a little out of whack to me.

- I have these "mood playlists" in my iTunes--Feeling Strummy, Feeling Positive, Feeling Chill, etc. I just created one called "Feeling Country" to hold the likes of Dolly, Patsy, Johnny & the Chicks, and it turns out? There's 10 hours of music on that list. Who knew?

- It's raining, I'm wearing a warm turtleneck sweater, comfy pants, bunny slippers, and drinking hot tea. Today's a good day to work from home in LA, and I am grateful for it.

- I'm also grateful to my mom, my sister Amy, JL, Megan, Jeff, Brett, the lovelies over at Looking Good, and everyone else who reads my blog regularly and comments. It's nice to know my random musings aren't just going out into a void, and I just want you to know I appreciate you.

- Everyone's doing their 2007 movie & music wrap-ups. I burned a lot of CDs for people throughout 2007, so I don't know if I could deliver one CD-length Best Of this year, but I suppose I could give it a shot. Even if 2007 was the year I discovered stuff I'd missed the first time around. Like, the Dixie Chicks "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)"--how pretty is this song??

- In conclusion: SIGH. And, back to work.

I love Christmas in LA

Generally speaking, I feel that LA gets a bad rap. The traffic, the smog, the obnoxious Hollywood/hipster types, and general assumption that there are a lot of plastic, disingenuous people in the city are all pretty much true, and can be a pretty big bummer. Honestly, I didn't love LA for a full 18 months after we moved here.

And then something switched, and I started loving it. There's a lot I love about LA, actually, but mostly I love Christmas in LA. Sure, it's not all snowy & picturesque, but hi, it's 60 degrees right now, I don't need 6 layers of clothes when I go outside, I know my car will start when I put the key in and won't need to "warm up" for 5 minutes before I drive it, there are no windows to scrape, and the traffic is just typically crappy, instead of crappy and icy.

Best of all, lookit all the stuff you can do and see!
1. The LA Zoo: My undying love for the LA Zoo is well documented, but the zoo is even better at Christmas.


Reindeer! Santa! Fun photo ops! Churros!



And if you're a member like me, you can go as often as you want (I popped by one day just to shop in the gift shop & say hi to the lemurs--because I can).

2. The LA DWP Lights in Griffith Park: Every year the LA Department of Water and Power does this big stretch of light displays depicting Los Angeles history and landmarks plus holiday music that is free to the public and also rad. You can either drive slowly through it or park and walk, which is what we did.



3. The Capitol Records Building: Quintessentially LA, the Capitol Records building is a landmark to see all on its own. But every Christmas, they rig a tree to the top of it. This photo isn't great (taken out of my car from over on Cahuenga), but it gives you the general idea. It's a small thing, but it makes me happy.



4. Youngwood Court: There's this house on 3rd St. in the swank Hancock Park neighborhood that is all white and features a long row of miniature statues of The David lining their semi-circle driveway. On its own, this ridiculously ornate house is a fun treat to drive past with out-of-towners. At Christmas, the owners put a Santa hat on each of their David Statues, put big Santa faces on the house itself, park Santa & Mrs. Clause mannequins in the front yard on a bench, and craft a giant, sparkly new year to plunk next to it.



When I lived in Hollywood and worked in Korea Town, I used to drive past this house every day. Last year, I finally drove to it with my camera and took pictures.



5. North Poleywood: My favorite of all the lights and decorations around the city, and we can walk to it from our house.



This place... is insane. They pull out the decorations the day after Halloween, and it goes live the day after Thanksgiving. Every year, it gets bigger, brighter and more ornate. It is, by far, the most Christmas lights and decorations I've ever seen concentrated on one house. It's like a Christmas Giant stomped into our neighborhood and threw up Christmas awesomeness all over the house and yard. I took a truckload of photos, but decided it couldn't really do it proper justice--you can't even see all the moving parts. So I took a video instead (apologies for the poor quality and shaky cam).


For more fun pics of LA around December, click here. Oh, and if you're celebrating Christmas next Tuesday, I hope it's merry and fabulous!

LOVE IT.

These things are currently making me very happy:
1. The Campo Gorilla Reserve is finished and open at the LA Zoo! I've been peering through the construction walls at this for the last three years I've been going to the zoo regularly. Mac & I have donated money with specific hopes that it helps fund this project. The old habitat was sad, y'all. In fact, on our first trip to the LA Zoo, we found a lot of it to be a little sad. But we also saw how many animals they've rescued, bred, and returned to the wild if possible, and we saw little construction sites all over the grounds, just waiting to flourish and become proper habitats for our beloved animals. And this one is done.

YAY.

2. This candle, purchased at Anthropologie for $15, smells just like Autumn.

LOVE IT.

3. Thanksgiving is coming. In fact, Mac & I get TWO this year, and one of them is tomorrow. For those of you thinking it might be delightful to have the McLeans over for Thanksgiving, or perhaps celebrate at our house one year, let me tell you--it IS delightful. And delicious, for I am in charge of Dill Bread, cranberry sauce (with orange & ginger), and apple pie with homemade crust. I made a practice pie this past weekend for my friend Mikey in DC.

PERFECT.

We're all affected

So, yeah. Fires.

They're happening in multiple counties all over Southern California.

They're consuming wilderness, displacing wildlife, and taking homes of the rich and poor alike. They are brutal and scary. Most of the people in my immediate circle are affected in some way, even if only because they know someone who's affected in a scarier way, which is basically to say: We're all affected. We're all scared. We're all worried about those we know and love, and those we don't. Even those lucky enough not to have anyone personal to worry about, who are just watching the fires at a distance, are, like all of us, breathing pretty much the worst air quality imaginable. Los Angeles' famous smog has gone from merely gross to downright ominous.

What's killing me with this at the moment, though, is the reporting and commentary on the fires, by news stations, web sites, bloggers, you name it. I mean, uncontrollable wildfires are still scary, right? People losing their homes and all of their possessions is still tragic, right? Because it seems to me like there's a whole lot of opportunistic shenanigans afoot. Far too many people are seizing these fires as a chance to:

1. Criticize the rich & famous! Because, surely, if this is all the news is covering, they're the only ones affected. But you know, those celebs feel like they can build their fancy houses everywhere, they deserve to have their homes burn to the ground. Really, these wildfires are an appropriate measure of schadenfreude for all those people I can't quit reading about in US Weekly.

2. Kick Californians when they're down! Because we are SO STUPID to live in a place with earthquakes and fires. We should all flee California and move to a safer part of the country. Where we'd only have to worry about tornados. Or floods. Or hurricanes. Or blizzards. Or...

3. Advance our political agendas! Because clearly, these fires are punishment for those liberal, fornicating Hollywood Democrats. Except when they're no less than those rich Republicans in San Diego deserve.

4. Be superior! "Oh my GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE people are bitching about losing their Elvis Memorabilia when people in New Orleans lost their ENTIRE LIVELIHOODS because of Hurricane Katrina. I mean, I live in New York, so I'm not personally affected by either of these tragedies? But I am FULLY QUALIFIED to compare these two completely different natural disasters, boil down the affect of each based solely on what I see in the news, and judge people for feeling loss in completely different ways."

A quick Google and you'll find a myriad of examples of all of these things. It's disgusting.

The truth of the matter is simple: Fire doesn't discriminate against rich or poor, Californian or Texan, Democrat or Republican. Fire doesn't care if you're part of the famous elite, or part of the team that cleans their houses. Fire just consumes and destroys, and leaves pounds of ash in the air as it moves. It's frustrating that it even needs to be said, but seriously: the only appropriate reaction at this point is to pray, help out wherever we can, and wait until the fires have died and the air has cleared so we can all, literally, breathe easier.

it is NOT easy to be a teenager

This is going to sound like a commercial, and I don't care.

On Friday Mac & I went to the Step Up Women's Network Inspiration Awards Luncheon. Which, wow, that's a mouthful, huh? Step Up is a really cool organization, though. They do a lot, but primarily focus on helping young girls living in challenging environments (like, say, south central LA) to build their confidence, engage in healthy activities, improve their education, and ultimately go to college. The goal is to break the destructive cycle so many at-risk youths find themselves in today.

While we were there, we saw a row of young teenagers declare they were going to college for all different reasons--and they'd all be the first in their families to do so. We heard from one girl who, although she used to be painfully shy and down on herself, got up in front of a room full of people and unabashedly informed us all that it is NOT easy to be a teenager. Another girl read the essay that won her a college scholarship, in which she talked about how her biological mother chose drugs over her and her two siblings. And her adoptive parents told her that she'd never amount to anything, and probably just end up knocked up and on drugs just like her mother. Her parents. And yet, because of Step Up, she's getting out of that environment, and going to college.

Needless to say, it was an emotional, amazing event. There were some celebrity guest speakers too, but really they weren't nearly as cool as those kids. If you haven't clicked through already, check out their website to see if there are ways you could get involved, and help change a young girl's life for the better!

THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!

Anyone else feel a seismic shift in the planet last night? Walk through a rift in the space/time continuum, perhaps? Fall backwards when the earth tilted slowly on its axis, throwing your world all ass up for a minute? No? Just me then?

I met another Dinah last night. For the first time in my life EVER.

This might not seem like a big deal to anyone but me, but I've been walking around for almost 31 years feeling extremely unique. I love my name, but it's unusual. People mess it up all the time because they're not used to hearing it, and if they are familiar with my name it's because they know another woman named Dinah who, by the way, is 82. It's old-fashioned and uncommon, and doesn't even register in the top 1,000 US names except for a little while in the 50's. Which, honestly, I always thought was kind of awesome.

That said, I've always been very curious to meet another Dinah, just to see what she's like. And last night, standing in line to see Superman Returns (which is super fun, by the way), I did. Just as casual as you please, mAc and I met the group that our friend Mike had brought with him: "Hi, I'm Ted, I'm Brian, this is Anya, I'm Abby, I'm Dinah." Wait, what? REALLY? Spelled the same and everything? Wooooooooooooooow..........

At first we bonded over things only a Dinah can share: "Do people mispronounce your name all the time?" "Dude, totally: Diana, Deena, Donna..." "...Dana, Diabla..." "Diabla???" "Yeah." "Wow, the worst I ever got was Diamond!" Followed up with, "Have you ever searched for other Dinahs on MySpace? They're all..." "ASIAN! I KNOW! What is that??"

After that, however, we were done. Dinah was not as impressed with this unique coincidence or, quite frankly, as friendly as I hoped she'd be.

She's also 1 inch taller than me (at 5'11"), at least 30 lbs lighter (bitch!), and ridiculously pretty (BITCH!). She used to model. Ultimately, instead of being cool and delighted and fun or whatever I hoped Dinah would be when I finally met her, it turned out she was just another skinny LA model with a pretty face and an aloof attitude. After my mind stopped being totally BLOWN, I just felt disappointed and jealous and unsure of what I should do with this experience moving forward.

And then it came to me. Clearly, the only thing TO do is hunt her down, decapitate her with a medieval sword, and absorb her power. THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE!

14:59 and counting

So evidently, mAc and I know a lot of comedy fans. Or at the very least, we have a lot of friends who watch Last Comic Standing on NBC. Because they all saw us on TV last week, and they all let us know.

Let me back up a bit.

A couple months ago, we got invited to a taping of Last Comic Standing. Except I didn't realize it was a taping, really, until we got there. Or maybe I thought it was just a live show that was being recorded for HBO or something, like the time I went to the recorded shows for Margaret Cho and Madonna (and they ended up using the second night of performances, but whatever. Still cool).

But it's a TV show on NBC, similar to American Idol, only it's comedy. I remembered it when we got there, something about comics competing, America voting, but it kind of sucked and Jay Mohr was involved? Anyway, they have a new host (Anthony Clark, whom I will love forever for his role as Paul the barber in The Rock) and a new season and we went to a taping.

And last Tuesday we were on TV. See?

(That's actually our whole group pictured, with our friend Rick, who invited us, sitting next to mAc, his partner Keith, and Keith's sister.)

And a second of fame goes down the drain. I'm now at 14:59 and counting...

The thing is, though, we watched the episode and only two of the comics on the show last week actually performed for us when we went to the taping. There are 18 other comics that we saw that haven't aired yet. There's another episode with them, I think, tonight. So we might be on TV even more, if you're interested. (NBC, 9 Eastern, 8 Central)

It's all very surreal. I've never been on national television before. Just so you know, though, I'm still the same Dinah. Fame hasn't changed me. In fact, the only thing I was thinking as I watched our faces flash by is, "Thank God I remembered to put on lipstick."

ADDENDUM:
Yup, we were on again last night and I hear they've also been using that clip of us laughing in the promos. In fact, they used it a couple more times last night as well. Either that, or we laugh so similarly every time that they just look the same, which, no. It was totally the same clip. We showed up a few other times in different clips as well, so that's like 5 seconds? Total? So I'm at like 14:54 now or something?

Dicky Speaks

Click the link in the title for an update on what happened to Dicky on Indie 103.1. And I know my mom reads my blog and, by extension, other family members, but I can't possibly hold back when I say,

THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT.

Read the whole statement, but essentially, Dicky Barrett was fired from Indie the day he discussed abortion and made extensive pro-choice comments on the air.

Do I even NEED to add commentary?

I'm so sad.

I just found out something both sad and troubling. Dicky Barrett has been fired from the Mighty Morning Show on LA's Indie 103.1.

For those of you who don't live in Los Angeles and are wondering, "Wait. Dicky Barrett from the Mighty Mighty Bosstones was hosting a radio morning show?" Yes. Yes, he was. And doing a really amazing job.

Listening to the Mighty Morning Show with Dicky and Liz and Stacey and Chuck was like listening to your cooler-than-you older siblings talk with their cooler-than-you friends about rock music you wanted access to, movies you'd never heard of, books you hoped to read someday, politics you never thought you'd understand, and parties you desperately wanted to go to. Only, brilliantly, they did all of this in a way that was intelligent, warm, funny and totally accessible.

I especially loved their interviews. Dicky treats his guests with respect while asking exactly the kinds of questions fans would want to know, as well as many we hadn't thought of. He sold me on many a movie I otherwise hadn't even heard of.

I loved it when Liz would try to do the news. I don't know why Dicky hated the news so much, but he would never let her just get straight through it. He'd mock the news and Liz herself without mercy, and Liz, bless her, would just power straight through. They perfectly captured the "we're siblings and we bug each other but really we totally love each other" vibe. It was awesome.

And, of course, I loved it when Dicky would tell stories. He'd regale his coworkers and, by extension, us listeners, with stories about his mom or his band or how he and Pavarotti once selected the same flavor of pie. It sounds so mundane, but his delivery is just so charming.

I could go on. I've been known to sit with my friends and just talk and talk about how much we love listening to the Mighty Morning Show. I once spent a good 45 minutes explaining to my husband why I think Dicky does better interviews than anyone else on the radio. I actually sent the show a love letter of sorts on Valentine's Day, because mAc and I once met Dicky and it was a cute story and I thought they'd get a kick out of it. And they did. They sent me a thank you.

So what went wrong? Well, I'm looking into it. So far, this is what I know, from hitsdailydouble.com.

Influential L.A. radio station Indie 103.1, the English-language alternative outlet owned by leading Hispanic broadcast company Entravision, has fired its morning show host, the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Dicky Barrett, who has been off the air for the past three days. His spokesperson reports that his "unexplained disappearance comes just a few days after the station's powers-that-be called him into their office and told him to refrain from making any political or controversial comments on the air."

L.A. Indie 103.1 station GM Dawn Girocco on the firing of morning man Dicky Barrett: "We have been working with Dicky for the past five months trying to get the show to the next level.. We invested a lot into not only the show, but in promoting and coaching him. Unfortunately it takes a lot of work to build and grow a morning show as well as develop interesting, compelling content. This was not Dicky's priority, as he had other commitments with Jimmy Kimmel Live, which was, in his words, 'his bread and butter.' Everyone at Indie has a tremendous commitment to the station and to the audience. We need to have a morning show that is able to make Indie their #1 priority. We wish Dicky the best in the future and appreciate his contributions to the station."

Former Indie 103.1 morning show host Dicky Barrett gives his side of his firing by Entravision from the influential L.A. station: "Jimmy Kimmel is a great guy who supported the Mighty Morning Show, and loved it, even though he helped to build the Kevin and Bean Show on KROQ and is the Producer of the Adam Carolla Morning Radio Show. The man hired to 'coach' me in 'trying to get the show to the next level',' Dan Kieley, said: 'Dicky is a true talent and a radio star' and 'It's a great Morning Show'.' I was fired for being unwilling to be, in Dawn Girocco's words 'more mainstream.' It was a great morning show. It is unfair to let people think I walked away to put more work into loudly reading 20-30 words a night on Jimmy's TV show. I worked hard on the Mighty Morning Show. I along with Stacey, Chuck and Liz, built and grew it to what it was. You could count on it (for the most part) to provide you with interesting, compelling content and better music then any other show on the air in the morning."

I checked Indie's web site to see if they had anything on the Mighty Morning Show's page. It's...not even there anymore. Other sites have some additional bits & pieces, and LAVoice.org is also looking into it pretty thoroughly. One comment in particular said that Dicky was fired because he wanted to play the music he wanted, and was in a fight with Girocco, so she fired him. (Until an official spokesperson says it, however, I'm counting it as "unconfirmed" but will keep you posted.)

I'm so sad. And, in truth, I don't know what makes me sadder--the idea that he was fired after making "political and controversial comments" or the fact that he's just not going to be on the air in the morning anymore. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's the latter. The idea that he got fired for saying the wrong thing mostly just really pisses me off.

It's a discussion for another time, as this entry is already really long and I'm in mourning, but what, specifically, did he say? How "bad" was it? Why was he fired, and not fined? What happened to free speech? How does someone get fired for talking, when they were essentially hired to talk? And, seriously, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN OUR COUNTRY AND WHEN ARE WE GOING TO START PAYING ATTENTION AND FIGHTING BACK, PEOPLE?!?!?

Further, political rage aside, why is a radio station whose name is "Indie" trying to coach someone on how to be more mainstream? Counterintuitive much? Oh, no, wait. That's just your basic flat-out bullshit.

Dicky, I'm so sorry you're gone. If I could, I'd put you back on the air right now, and I hope that someone figures out a way to do just that. In the meantime, I want you and the rest of the crew to know that you were truly Great, and you will be missed.

This TOWN is WRECKING my CAR

I'm a little cranky this morning.

Yesterday, I had a meeting in West Hollywood at 9:30 a.m. I left the house around 8:45ish and set off to make the trek over the Hollywood Hills via Laurel Canyon. I've taken other routes to our WeHo office before. They all take the same amount of time and this one is the most direct.

Here's what sucks about the morning "rush" over Laurel: start, stop. Wait. Start, stop. Wait. Start, ooh! 5 miles per hour, sweet! No, hang on. Stop. Wait.

Imagine how much fun that is with a stick shift. I'll just go ahead and tell you. NOT F'IN VERY FUN.

Oh, and did I mention, this whole start/stop/never leave 1st gear NONSENSE is totally happening while being pointed uphill for 30 minutes? Good times.

So here I am just trying to make it over the hill. I have a rad mix of new music in my car, I've allowed enough time for this bullshit, so I'm already proactively managing the stress a drive like this would usually generate. I'm doing alright. Until, that is, my gas light goes on.

Uh oh. But wait, that's just because you're pointed uphill and all the gas is sloshing to the back, right? Right. But then it keeps going down. When it started kissing the bottom of the gauge, I started to panic, just a little. When my car started revving really high trying to start & go (only to STOP 2 seconds later, GAH! I hate driving in LA!!!), then I really started to worry. So I pulled over and called the person I was meeting with to tell her I might not make it.

Eventually, I made it over the hill. The downhill stretch was much better, although now I'm doing a balancing act between my clutch and my brake, instead of my clutch and the gas. I made it to the first gas station I saw, spent approximately $400 filling up the tank (Y'ALL, SERIOUSLY, THE GAS PRICES!), and made it to my meeting 30 minutes late. The woman I was meeting with was really cool and sympathetic. I bought her a coffee for putting up with my car drama.

After my meeting when I tried to drive my car again, it wouldn't accelerate and would only rev really high. It would go, so I was able to get to the office and then to a mechanic. I was fairly certain that my little trek over Laurel had trashed my transmission.

Since living in LA, I've had my tires replaced, my brake pads replaced and now, I am having my clutch replaced. This town is wrecking my car.

The potholes are out of control, and it hasn't even really started raining yet. If one pothole blows out your tire (yes, there are several in the city that bad), then the city has to pay for the repairs/replacement, but what about when the repeated little bumps in all the rest of the potholes just accelerate the general wear & tear on your tires? Yeah. The city didn't pay for my new tires.

The stop & go traffic isn't so hard on the brakes, but what is hard on them is the collection of idiots in this town that like to make really sudden, dangerous moves that cause you to SLAM on the brakes every, oh, say once a month? Right after I got my brake pads replace, some dude pulled out in front of me suddenly despite the fact that I was cruising at around 35? 40? on a fairly major street. SLAM. My new brakes helped prevent an accident... but they're squeaking again.

The stop & go traffic has, however, apparently wreaked havoc on my clutch. No matter how carefully you try and dance from the clutch to gas to clutch to brake without riding the clutch, it gets hard. I can't count how many times I start in first in a given commute. On the highway. All I know is, when there's no traffic, it takes 17 minutes from office to home. With traffic? About 50.

I don't know what's to be done about it. The idea of taking the Metro is appealing except for the fact that I often work late and don't love the idea of sharing a bus with the freaks of LA. At least when the miscreants are in their cars, I can't smell them. Oh, and I don't fear for my life either. I don't know anyone from work anywhere near my neighborhood, so carpooling isn't a good option. I'd love to work from home, but it's not a practical option for someone with lots of meetings and two direct reports to manage.

So in the meantime, I just vent, get my car fixed, crank the tunes, and keep on driving.

1. 2. 3.

1. Congratulations, Jeff and Erica!

May this next step in your life together be filled with love, laughter and great sex!

2. I am beyond bummed that sowrongago has closed for business. I know you asked us not to say anything, but I'll miss your blog to bits & pieces, Brian. How else am I supposed to know that all the music I'm currently enjoying is totally overrated and all the movies I like are horrible? You're a fabulous writer and I hope you find a new outlet soon. (For those of you who are unfamiliar with sowrongago, by all means, enjoy the archives, they're fabulous.)

3. It's raining and pouring in LA today. I love the rain and all, but I think it's contributing largely to how inordinately sleepy I am today. *yawn*

Oops! My bad!

The power's out all over LA and people are freaking out. The latest on the news is that some jackass in the LA DWP cut the wrong line. As in, they cut the wrong line and power disappeared all over this major metropolis. For example, I work in Korea Town, my husband's in Burbank--our power went out at the same time. His actually stayed out for quite awhile, whereas ours flickered back on almost immediately.

(What do you say when you're the one who cuts that line? "Oops! My bad!" Yeah, I don't think so.)

No one's really buying the "cut the wrong line" story, either. Many think that there is something more sinister afoot (see bottom of article). I think these people, newscasters included, are simply on edge the day after the 9/11 anniversary and just one week after Katrina. Or maybe they just don't want to believe that someone could be so stupid or otherwise incapacited as to make this kind of mistake. Or maybe, just maybe, they're just trying to make a more sensational story out of it than it actually is.

Personally, I think it's a heist. I think someone of the George Clooney/Mark Whalberg persuasion either has someone on the inside at the DWP to take out a generator, or they've hired a hacker to cut power for a second. (If you see a Seth Green-type dude dancing around a laptop in LA, arrest that man!) Laugh if you will, but when artifacts at the Tut exhibit or $10 million in gold boullion goes missing, don't say I didn't warn you.

A Place Called Home

Yesterday was Community Service Day at work, so I went to this place in South Central LA called "A Place Called Home" to volunteer. The description on the sign-up sheet just said "Music" and I figured, I've got over 20 years of experience as a musician, plus even more as an obsessive music fan, that sounds like fun.

It really was. It was completely disorganized, the woman leading the class had no idea what we should do with the kids, we had no idea how to prepare, so we ended up doing a trivia game with them. Imagine 30+ 8 year olds yelling "Michael Jackson! 50 Cent! Tito Puente!" out for every single answer, and that'll give you an idea of my afternoon. Still, they were pretty great kids and I had a blast.

It was amazing to see what they knew, and what they didn't know. Like, there's a picture of Jimi Hendrix in their classroom, so when I pointed to it and asked, "Who is this?" imagine my surprise when they answered, with great authority, "Bob Marley!" Huh? I mean, I can totally understand not being familiar with Jimi, but they did know Bob... interesting. So of course, I took the opportunity to give them a brief lesson in rock history. Ever tried to explain the difference between Jimi Hendrix and Bob Marley to large group of inner city children before? It's kind of fun. I mean, they really want to know this stuff (or at least they acted interested for my benefit).

It was fascinating to discover that they knew the musical alphabet (A - G), but they didn't know what a scale was (Do Re Mi, etc). Or they'd know who Charlie Parker was, but not James Brown. Again, I don't expect them to know James Brown, but Charlie? I also found it highly amusing that when we asked them, "Who sings, 'I feel good! (Na ne na ne na ne na) I knew that I would now,'" we had more than one perplexed face in the room when we told them "Eddie Murphy" was the wrong answer.

The funniest/most alarming, yet technically correct answer of the day (from an 8 year old):
Q. Name one band or singer that would fall into the category of Rock Music.
A. Marilyn Manson

At the end of our class, I was brimming with ideas for another session. The trivia game might have been a little crazy, especially since we were pulling questions out of thin air on the spot and they were either too hard or too easy. But it turned out to be a great way to find out what they know, and what they don't know. I've already started compiling song ideas for one or two mix CDs to send over to the class that would include all types of music, from Mozart to Aretha, so they can learn different genres and artists. I want to create more games and activities so they can learn more about different instruments, and basic music theory. I want to teach them song after song after song. In short, I want to go back.

This has been a huge experience for me. The truth is, I've always been passionate about the importance of music in education. Music programs keep kids occupied with something stimulating, instead of out on the streets where they can get into trouble (or worse, unfortunately). They make the world a bigger place for them. They give kids something to try to improve and a sense of achievement when it happens. They have a huge impact on how they learn other subjects in school. For example:

1) History: A volunteer played a waltz on the piano, which they correctly identified as classical music. We went a little further after they answered the question and explained what a waltz is, and how people used to dance to them a long time ago. They asked, "Like in the 70's?" Well, sure. The 1770's. Their eyes widened, and their faces lit up, as if it suddenly occurred to them how old that song must be. Imagine where you could take that. Like, what else happened in the 1770's that they might be interested in?

2) Language: The same volunteer pantomimed playing a harp for them, only to have one of them answer, "Ark! It's an ark!" After working with him for a little bit, we found out that he had the right idea, but he didn't know the word harp. So we spelled it on the white board and had everyone sound it out.

3) Math: In order to measure beats of music or rhythm, you need to understand different lengths of notes. In traditional 4/4 time, there are four beats in one measure of music. A whole note contains four beats--it takes up the whole measure. A half note has 2 beats--it takes up half the measure. A quarter note has 1 beat. An eighth note equals half a beat. Getting kids to understand rhythms takes a basic understanding of counting, adding, dividing and even simple fractions.

Music programs for kids do all this and so much more. What's sad is that in most areas of our country, they have been cut from school curriculums because US public schools don't get enough funding to put towards new books and decent teachers, much less rental instruments that kids can take home and practice. So the opportunities for kids to learn music become extremely limited. Families with enough money can buy instruments, pay for private lessons and get their kids into orchestras and other organizations outside of school. Families without the income or resources are lucky if they can bring their kids to A Place Called Home.

If you're in the LA area and would like to volunteer, please visit their website or give me a buzz--maybe we could go over together. (If you're a musician, even a bad one, even better!) If you have ideas for activities these kids could do, or opinions on what kinds of songs I should put in these CDs I'm mixing, please leave them in the Comments section below, or email me if you have my address. If you're outside of LA or haven't a clue what kinds of things would be good for a music class, but still want to help, visit their website. I'm sure they're always happy to accept donations.

Who needs bat-shaped throwing stars?

Pity, party of One
I'm sick, and totally feeling sorry for myself. What's worse, is I'm not just feeling sad because I'm sick and really don't want to be, but I'm feeling completely frustrated by the fact that it's been a really busy week at work. In other words, no sick day. Not only did I not get a sick day, I had to work really hard on Wednesday, when I was all snot-filled, oozy, woozy and high on DayQuil. Imagine my tears of frustration when I got home from work, LATE, exhausted and hungry, wishing desperately that I'd been able stay home, nurse my head cold and watch my Season Three Girlmore Girls DVDs all day.

(Sidenote:
I enjoy watching the Gilmore Girls, but I'm starting to suspect that it's really bad for my self esteem. The reason is that while I like to think I identify most with Lane, with our shared rock & roll history obsessions, the truth is I find myself unwillingly identifying with Rory. And often when I watch the show, I don't like Rory because I find her passive, unoriginal, and a weaker character than her friends and family think she is. A fraud, even. So when the over-identification occurs, the self-esteem plummets. Yes, it's irrational. Shut up.

Of course then I quickly get over it because, like Lane, I can find unending solace in the right musical selection. Today it's Nouvelle Vague, and a big thank you to Amanda for hooking me up. Moving on.)

Okay, so then yesterday, still sick, I had to dope the hell up on 3 different kinds of shit so I could fly to Vegas, do a client presentation, and fly back. Which was The SUCK, as both flights helped to build up so much pressure in my already congested head that I seriously thought I was going to have an aneurysm. I didn't, however, so today I'm back at work and blogging defiantly, because I still feel entitled to the Sick Day That Never Was.

I'm a Dork
I've actually been trying to figure out how to blog this little "I'm a dork" story, but it involves me going out of my way to sit near a cute guy on the plane, which I happen to think is perfectly innocent but, well. Tell me if you agree.

It's a Southwest, choose-your-own-seat kind of flight and there are two window seats left at the front of the plane. One is next to old fat guy, the other is next to cute college athlete (who looks like an old high school crush). What's a girl to do? Be a dork, take the window seat near the cute boy who may or may not be Samoan or Brazilian, be totally disappointed when the 50 year old mom-type woman takes the middle seat between you (stupid full flight), and spend the rest of the hour between Las Vegas and Burbank trying to find a way to insert yourself into their conversation, even though it's totally boring and about him going to college in Utah and playing sports or whatever. And then, after landing, realize that you are a dork for wanting to sit next to Cute College Guy in the first place, as he says his super sweet goodbye to the woman and tries to recruit her by giving her a freaking Book of Mormon as a gift.

Which, by the way, is totally uncanny because not only did he look like that cute Shane Magalei from high school (Samoan, total Renaissance dude, sweetheart), but they both went to BYU. Are the Mormons, like, actively recruiting super-cute, super-tall, exotic-looking athletes? Because, if so, it's not a bad strategy. These guys could convert a bunch of cute little wives that way. Each.

I'm Also a Geek
That's right, I love comic books. I do! When I was little I used to read all of my brother's Star Wars and Indiana Jones comics and as an adult, I still read all my husband's DC and Marvel comics. Granted, I'm not so obsessed that I can name all 6 Green Lanterns or whatever and for the love of GOD do not correct me because I don't care. But I do enjoy the stories behind comic book heroes. In fact the more backstory the better. Unlike my friend Alf, I prefer the Marvel universe to the DC, because the heroes use their pain to become better people/crime fighters. (He, on the other hand, doesn't like his super heroes to have "issues." Although, looking at some of the DC outfits, I'd argue they do whether they've been explained or not. Red panties OVER the blue tights? I'm just saying.) That said, there's one DC character I love: Batman.

So dark, so mysterious, and seriously? A bat? Why a bat? Catwoman, I get--cats are slinky, mischievous, playful and viscous. Bats, on the other hand, are flying rodents who get in your attic and have to be chased out with a tennis racket.

I have other questions about Batman. Like (to quote The Joker) where does he get those wonderful toys? Think about it. There's Bruce Wayne with his bazillions of dollars, ordering all of his crime-fighting shit from wherever. How exactly does that conversation go?

Bruce: "I'm going to need 200 grappling hooks, 4 boxes of smoke bombs, a flat of bullet-proof car armor (black), and 6 cases of bat-shaped ninja throwing stars."
Supplier: "Not a problem Mr. Wayne. If you don't mind my asking, though, what's all this for?"
Bruce: "Nothing! Nothing at all! Just a hobby!"
*click*

Well, my friends, if you have ever cooked your noodle wondering the same thing, do yourself a favor and go see Batman Begins. If not for the imaginative back-story, killer sets or the understated Gary Oldman performance, then go for Christian Bale. Because seriously, who needs bat-shaped throwing stars when your cheekbones can cut glass?

Jones? JONES?
Finally, I have to tell you about the best celebrity sighting EVER. I have been dining out on this story for weeks ever since I heard it. I just discovered today that I got it ALL WRONG. To get the full scoop, here's what you do:
1. Read the story told by the person who actually had the sighting, Amanda, in her blog entry entitled "Surrender Dorothy."
2. Come back here, and discover that I thought she was actually talking about this guy.

The skies are charcoal gray

It's a dreary downtown day. Gold stars for the cool kids who know where that's from.

The rain in LA has gotten a little out of control, and I like the rain. I'm not one of these Angelinos that gets ferociously pissed when it rains, like God is spitting on me from the heavens and going "neener neener neener, you got wee-eet." And boy, do people get pissed. After all, this is a town not only filled with people who moved here because they are weather wimps who can no longer stand a bone-chilling breeze below 65 degrees, but it's also filled with the people who expect things to happen a certain way by a certain time or there's hell to pay. You know the ones. "What do you mean I can't get McGriddles after 10:30? Don't you know who I am? Get me a manager!"

So when it rains, and it's miserable, and they can't control it and they can't even fire their assistants over it... What can I say, the mere thought just makes me kind of happy. 'Cause I'm mean like that.

I like the rain. It's the only time this town smells a notch better than BO with a side of urine, pollution and ASS, and it's the only thing that can cut through the heavy brown cloud of pollution that lays over this city like stinky blanket.

Driving in the rain bites, however. The drivers suck and the roads are worse. My car was actually swallowed whole by a pothole this morning. I'm pretty sure I saw Jimmy Hoffa in the swirling abyss that was the puddle on 3rd Ave before it relinquished its watery grip and spit me back on the road, my poor tires much worse for the wear.

I don't have much else to add today. What can I say, the creative well has run dry. There's a little boy trapped at the bottom and Lassie traded in her heroism for heroin, and damn. That's just sad.

Speaking of heroin, I have discovered that I am extremely naive when it comes to drug use in Los Angeles. Case in point: I went to a party on Saturday night, hung out with some of my favorite people in this town, and made nice with other guests at the party. The next day I was chatting on the phone with one of my favorite people, breaking down the evening and dishing the dirt--"Did you hear?" "Well, I never!" (except more cunty)--I mentioned that I'd made friends with this guy. Let's call him Chewbacca.
Me: "Yeah, I was chatting with Chewbacca and he seemed pretty nice. We were thinking of getting together to play poker sometime."
Her: "Except that probably won't happen. He's a flake and a total fuckwit."
Me: "Really? But he seemed pretty nice."
Her: "Yeah. He's actually a dick and a cokehead. I make it a point not to hang out with him."
Me: "No shit."
Her: "Oh yeah. And the first time I ever met him, he threw up in his hands."
Me: "Ew!"

Sometimes I feel like I may as well have shown up to this town in a blue & white checkered dress with blonde pigtails and the belief that the greasy fat man at the bus station really did want to make me a star, for all the savvy I have. As long as it remains refreshing and not at all dumb and annoying, however, I think I'm fine to leave that savvy where it is. Plus, I didn't have to witness someone barfing into their hands to earn it and, baby, that is fine with me.