You know how there are some people who draw bad luck to them like magnets? It hovers like the rain cloud over Charlie Brown. I’ve always believed there are some people who have drama - lots of it - in their lives, and there are those who don’t. I suspect, deep in their subconscious, drama people enjoy getting snippy, raising their voices, having high blood pressure, getting red-faced, and, most of all, having a story to tell everyone later. As in, “Oh my God, you will NEVER believe what happened to me today….”
I steer away from this tendency. I much prefer to get along with customer service people. I like all my transactions to happen quickly and easily so that I can get on to the next quick and easy part of my day. On those occasions when things go awry or someone is driving me nuts, I soothe myself by thinking about what kind of coffee I’d like to have later. All my tension vanishes like a snowman enveloped in flames!
This morning at the Passport Agency I was at the window with the nice lady who was helping me. I had all my documents. She gently made fun of my former last name, Schmugelgugski, and we laughed.
The woman next to me with long, white blond hair was having a harder time. Side note: Ladies, I’m no hairdresser, but I know enough to inform you that if you’re going to peroxide your hair at home you are also supposed to dye it a particular shade of blond. Get it? The bleach takes all the pigment out, and you add some pretty blond color on top of it. Otherwise you just look trashy.
Anyway, this woman was bitching at the clerk about how she was flying on Sunday and needed her passport RIGHT NOW. She had been calling every day and it should be READY! And she didn’t want to come back on Friday because she has to WORK then! I wanted to pat her arm and tell her to get it together and be nice or she would accomplish nothing, but I couldn’t tell where her arm was, what with it blending in with her albino hair.
Most of all, the woman insisted she should not have to come back because she made an animated appointment for today, just like she was supposed to. That’s right, animated. I wonder how the animated appointments are made? Do you call Pixar? Or Hanna-Barbera? Or the Claymation Rudolph the Reindeer? Only the blond lady knows.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Garrett's
One of the best parts of my job is getting to take out-of-towners around the Universal lot. I bring the guests out in a golf cart and show them the stages, the Village Square (former home to the Back to the Future set), the Desperate Housewives block, and the Psycho motel. It's all very excitng for them and reminds me how friggin' cool it is to work here.
The recipients of one of my tours, as thanks, send me a giant tub of Chicago's own Garrett's popcorn. This stuff is delicious, and addicting, and a great gift. As cheesy (or buttery or carmelly) as it may sound, seeing the excitement on the faces of the tour-getters is all the thanks I need, but a tub of popcorn is good indeed.
Now I'd best be on my way, there sure is lots to do today!
The recipients of one of my tours, as thanks, send me a giant tub of Chicago's own Garrett's popcorn. This stuff is delicious, and addicting, and a great gift. As cheesy (or buttery or carmelly) as it may sound, seeing the excitement on the faces of the tour-getters is all the thanks I need, but a tub of popcorn is good indeed.
Now I'd best be on my way, there sure is lots to do today!
Monday, April 23, 2007
You're Hired, I'm Tired
Sunday night, thanks to JerDerr, DeeHo and I got to attend the finale of The Apprentice at the Hollywood Bowl. We had amazing box seats that would cost a pretty penny if we had paid for them to see a concert. Our view of the stage:
We had great fun people-watching before the program. There were quite a lot of Beautiful People in our section, including former Apprentice winner Omarosa, who had made a real effort to dress up. D and I were decked out in mismatching rain gear... because it was supposed to rain, and we're practical like that. The crowd before taping:
Three women from Jersey sat behind us, and would simultaneously amuse and appall us by saying things like, "That guy with the nose is here, the one who looks like he's with the Taliban," and, "Oh, I didn't realize the Oriental was still on the show." The three of them looked like they were on their way to meet up with The Sopranos later.
The taping itself went by really quickly, and I was glad because I was starting to peter out toward the end. I thought The Donald seemed a little nervous to be doing the show live, but he was very focused and would look over his cue cards during commercials.
In the last act it did start to drizzle. Who was prepared for it? Not the Beautiful People!
We had great fun people-watching before the program. There were quite a lot of Beautiful People in our section, including former Apprentice winner Omarosa, who had made a real effort to dress up. D and I were decked out in mismatching rain gear... because it was supposed to rain, and we're practical like that. The crowd before taping:
Three women from Jersey sat behind us, and would simultaneously amuse and appall us by saying things like, "That guy with the nose is here, the one who looks like he's with the Taliban," and, "Oh, I didn't realize the Oriental was still on the show." The three of them looked like they were on their way to meet up with The Sopranos later.
The taping itself went by really quickly, and I was glad because I was starting to peter out toward the end. I thought The Donald seemed a little nervous to be doing the show live, but he was very focused and would look over his cue cards during commercials.
In the last act it did start to drizzle. Who was prepared for it? Not the Beautiful People!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Schmugelgugski
Those who have known me awhile remember my old last name. They probably couldn't spell it, but they recall many consonants and my years of suffering in school. It's comforting to know that I can overcome anything, because I overcame that last name.
For the purposes of this story, we'll say it was Schmugelgugski. It might as well have been. A few years back I trucked down to the courthouse and legally changed it to something simple and plain that can't possibly be mispronounced. I've been noticeably happier ever since.
Yesterday I dug through a few cobwebby places to find my passport, as I am going to Mexico in two and a half weeks. I found it and was surprised at my boy haircut in the photo. It was really short. I brought it to DeeHo for a laugh.
And laugh she did. She said I looked better with longer hair. She continued to look at the passport and laughed again. "Schmugelgugski," she said with a giggle. Boy, am I glad to be rid of that name. I laughed too.
But... she was reading my passport! Which had my old last name! Which means I have two and a half weeks to change my passport! Oh, brother.
If it weren't for the boy hair and one eagle-eyed roommate, the first person to realize my passport name didn't match my ticket would have been the security checker at the airport. And the only Spanish I'd be speaking is, "Necesito tequila, por favor."
For the purposes of this story, we'll say it was Schmugelgugski. It might as well have been. A few years back I trucked down to the courthouse and legally changed it to something simple and plain that can't possibly be mispronounced. I've been noticeably happier ever since.
Yesterday I dug through a few cobwebby places to find my passport, as I am going to Mexico in two and a half weeks. I found it and was surprised at my boy haircut in the photo. It was really short. I brought it to DeeHo for a laugh.
And laugh she did. She said I looked better with longer hair. She continued to look at the passport and laughed again. "Schmugelgugski," she said with a giggle. Boy, am I glad to be rid of that name. I laughed too.
But... she was reading my passport! Which had my old last name! Which means I have two and a half weeks to change my passport! Oh, brother.
If it weren't for the boy hair and one eagle-eyed roommate, the first person to realize my passport name didn't match my ticket would have been the security checker at the airport. And the only Spanish I'd be speaking is, "Necesito tequila, por favor."
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
The 90210 Dentist
Upon moving to LA I asked a new friend if she could refer me to a good dentist. She could. She raved about Doctor BigSmile and gave me his number. He was in Beverly Hills.
Hoo wee! It's fun for a fresh-off-the-boat LA transplant to drive through Rodeo Drive to get to her dentist. Ride up the posh elevator. Be greeted by a receptionist who wears a suit!
Little did I know that BigSmile had BigRent to pay at his nice offices. While all I wanted was a cleaning every six months, he wanted to bleach my teeth, bond my teeth, give me a nightguard so I wouldn't grind my teeth, and, by the way, come back every four months for a cleaning. The hygenist made my teeth bleed and told me that if you aren't bleeding, you're not getting a real cleaning. I was getting my money's worth.
The last straw was when, just after I'd paid another bajillion dollars on my way out, the receptionist said, "So when do you want to schedule the bonding for?" I looked at her blankly. "I don't want to schedule the bonding. It's not in my budget at the moment." She persisted, "You know we can do a payment plan, right?"
Yes, I friggin' know! You tell me every single mother-bleepin' time! I know already!!! We can do a payment plan!
I didn't curse at the Suit Lady, partially because I was afraid she'd knock me out with general anesthesia and stuff my body in the clearance rack on her next trip to Loehmann's. Instead, I went home and wrote a letter to BigSmile thanking him for the good times and telling him that he can save his pressure-sale dentistry for the people who like payment plans, but it was time for me to go.
These days, I walk down the block to my neighborhood dentist. It's a father-son operation. There's a receptionist in jeans, a hygenist who praises my flossing efforts, and a dentist who does nothing but clean my teeth.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Walk the Talk
Another month halfway over, another pile of dreams drifting on the River of Procrastination. If I didn't have to sleep, or work, I could get done the long list of things I long to do. Among them:
~ Perform five minutes of stand-up comedy for the first time ever.* I've been intending to do this for three years. I don't know if I'm funny, but I'd like to find out.
~ Write a one-woman show starring me. I don't know if I have anything interesting to say, but there's only one way to know for sure.
~ Start and then finish all the scripts I have ideas for, then rewrite them a few times till they're great, then be happy with how they turned out.
~ Volunteer once a week or so at a Boys and Girls' Club or something. That'd be fun. And prevent my selfishness from becoming debilitating.
~ Cook all my food every day. I eat out all the time and feel disgusting about it.
~ Work out every single morning. I know there are people out there, busy people, who manage this. I envy them.
~ Do my taxes. Currently I'm two years behind, but the government owes me so I think I'm safe. Right?
Sigh. I shouldn't be blogging. I need to go DO. And what are you doing here, Lazybones? You should go DO too!
* A girl I took Second City improv classes with in Chicago is now a stand-up comic in LA. She's quite funny. Here's her MySpace. Go out and see her sometime!
~ Perform five minutes of stand-up comedy for the first time ever.* I've been intending to do this for three years. I don't know if I'm funny, but I'd like to find out.
~ Write a one-woman show starring me. I don't know if I have anything interesting to say, but there's only one way to know for sure.
~ Start and then finish all the scripts I have ideas for, then rewrite them a few times till they're great, then be happy with how they turned out.
~ Volunteer once a week or so at a Boys and Girls' Club or something. That'd be fun. And prevent my selfishness from becoming debilitating.
~ Cook all my food every day. I eat out all the time and feel disgusting about it.
~ Work out every single morning. I know there are people out there, busy people, who manage this. I envy them.
~ Do my taxes. Currently I'm two years behind, but the government owes me so I think I'm safe. Right?
Sigh. I shouldn't be blogging. I need to go DO. And what are you doing here, Lazybones? You should go DO too!
* A girl I took Second City improv classes with in Chicago is now a stand-up comic in LA. She's quite funny. Here's her MySpace. Go out and see her sometime!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
See You There in 2016
There's a senior citizens' home in Silver Lake, and when you drive past you see the residents staring outside while sitting in chairs, or their wheelchairs, lined up along the big picture window. The view isn't much of anything, just apartment buildings, but you sense they are content to soak up the sun and watch people walk by.
Today I made a trip to a local library where they have a similar deal going on. Several reclining chairs, about fifteen of them, side by side, looking out on a nondescript street, a parking garage, some retail stores. I've been here for an hour or so reading my book, and it's nice: quiet inside, overcast outside. There's no place I'd rather be.
Except maybe Chicago. I'm reading One More Time: The Best of Mike Royko, a collection of essays. I'm not sure if I was too young to read him while he was in print, or if I was simply oblivious, but it makes me want to move back, be a part of the city, and this time, relish it.
As if reminiscing weren't enough to bring me back, the announcement of Chicago winning its bid for the Olympics is pretty darn exciting. Is it too early to book a flight for 2016?
Daley with high school students in Millennium Park before appearing on the Today Show, photo from the Trib:
How's this for a rambling blog? Not much of a point here at all. Mike Royko I am not.
Today I made a trip to a local library where they have a similar deal going on. Several reclining chairs, about fifteen of them, side by side, looking out on a nondescript street, a parking garage, some retail stores. I've been here for an hour or so reading my book, and it's nice: quiet inside, overcast outside. There's no place I'd rather be.
Except maybe Chicago. I'm reading One More Time: The Best of Mike Royko, a collection of essays. I'm not sure if I was too young to read him while he was in print, or if I was simply oblivious, but it makes me want to move back, be a part of the city, and this time, relish it.
As if reminiscing weren't enough to bring me back, the announcement of Chicago winning its bid for the Olympics is pretty darn exciting. Is it too early to book a flight for 2016?
Daley with high school students in Millennium Park before appearing on the Today Show, photo from the Trib:
How's this for a rambling blog? Not much of a point here at all. Mike Royko I am not.Thursday, April 12, 2007
She Hikes Just Like a Woman
Last night I had a horrible night of sleep due to the goopey phlegm in my throat. I even woke myself up snoring, and that has never happened! Anyway, I went to the bathroom for the neti pot solution and it worked like a charm. If only I'd thought of it at 10pm instead of 5am. Then I clipped my toenails. Then I was too awake to go back to sleep.
I decided that there was no better way to celebrate my easy breathing than with a hike in Griffith. I went on an old favorite trail, which just yesterday I decided to name the "Santa Maria." I'll explain why another time.
There were two men in their sixties, friends, hiking a fair distance behind me the whole time. I finished the "Santa" portion of the hike, but I decided I didn't have it in me to go for "Maria," which takes you to the very peak. It offers a stunning 360 degree view of LA.
As I passed the two guys on my way down, they teased me for stopping, they said I'd been inspiring them to keep going. I told them I really wasn't up for it today. One guy, the white-haired Brit, or maybe Aussie, said, "But, it's about..." He searched for the word in his native English, "... the satisfaction of getting to the top. Oh, you wouldn't understand, you're a woman."
I'm sure my nostrils flared and my eyes bugged out. He was dead serious. His friend nodded in agreement. "You should really finish." And in my huffy, puffy, just-like-a-woman way, I spun on my heel and stomped up to the top of the hill. I made sure to go extra fast and leave them in the dust.
To the gentlemen of the "Santa Maria," my firmer fanny thanks you for the encouragement. There's nothing like a shame-induced workout.
*******
To those that saw the fire in the Hollywood Hills two weeks ago (started by two genius teenagers from Illinois who were burning sticks for fun), below are photos of the now-barren land blowing dust in today's strong winds.
View from Pass Ave heading South:
View from a hill in Universal:
Pretty wild, huh?
I decided that there was no better way to celebrate my easy breathing than with a hike in Griffith. I went on an old favorite trail, which just yesterday I decided to name the "Santa Maria." I'll explain why another time.
There were two men in their sixties, friends, hiking a fair distance behind me the whole time. I finished the "Santa" portion of the hike, but I decided I didn't have it in me to go for "Maria," which takes you to the very peak. It offers a stunning 360 degree view of LA.
As I passed the two guys on my way down, they teased me for stopping, they said I'd been inspiring them to keep going. I told them I really wasn't up for it today. One guy, the white-haired Brit, or maybe Aussie, said, "But, it's about..." He searched for the word in his native English, "... the satisfaction of getting to the top. Oh, you wouldn't understand, you're a woman."
I'm sure my nostrils flared and my eyes bugged out. He was dead serious. His friend nodded in agreement. "You should really finish." And in my huffy, puffy, just-like-a-woman way, I spun on my heel and stomped up to the top of the hill. I made sure to go extra fast and leave them in the dust.
To the gentlemen of the "Santa Maria," my firmer fanny thanks you for the encouragement. There's nothing like a shame-induced workout.
*******
To those that saw the fire in the Hollywood Hills two weeks ago (started by two genius teenagers from Illinois who were burning sticks for fun), below are photos of the now-barren land blowing dust in today's strong winds.
View from Pass Ave heading South:
View from a hill in Universal:
Pretty wild, huh?Sunday, April 08, 2007
Kielbasa's Guide to Dining Alone
There are a lot of people out there who are afraid of dining alone. They might have it in them to run to Baja Fresh for lunch, but if you're talking about a real meal out they will shy away. I don't relate to that feeling. I embrace dining solo, and I'm here to help you do the same.
Easter Sunday, nothing in the fridge, too lazy to run to TJ's, I instead scrolled through the mental Rolodex of places in the neighborhood. I almost ordered in from Louise's; I very nearly walked over to Mexico City; but then I remembered I'd been dying to try Malo's on Sunset, the semi-new Mexican place, and tonight was the perfect night to do it. A courtesy call to my boyfriend confirmed what I'd already suspected: he couldn't come. Which was A-OK... more chips and salsa for me!
Get There Early
I'm not here to tell you what time to eat, but if you're already self-conscious you should stay away from peak hours. Nothing is more awkward that talking to the hostess with couples and parties of six all around you waiting to be seated. Awkwardness can be avoided if food is served at the bar, where you can belly up with all the other singles.
Bring a Book
It doesn't have to be something you're that into. Whatever you read will have to be re-read later anyway. It's more of a prop for when you get bored of people-watching or munching on chips/bread/appetizer. A magazine is great too. If all else fails, pick a place with a TV (inevitably playing a channel with some I-could-care-less sports event).
Just Go For It
Order whatever you want. Do it. Get a drink and an appetizer, get only dessert. Get something on the side. You have no one to please or accommodate. How often does that happen?!
Savor
Take your time. Order another margarita. Read more of your book. It's a date with yourself, and you know what Cybill Shepard would say back in the day. That's right. "You're worth it."
Easter Sunday, nothing in the fridge, too lazy to run to TJ's, I instead scrolled through the mental Rolodex of places in the neighborhood. I almost ordered in from Louise's; I very nearly walked over to Mexico City; but then I remembered I'd been dying to try Malo's on Sunset, the semi-new Mexican place, and tonight was the perfect night to do it. A courtesy call to my boyfriend confirmed what I'd already suspected: he couldn't come. Which was A-OK... more chips and salsa for me!
Get There Early
I'm not here to tell you what time to eat, but if you're already self-conscious you should stay away from peak hours. Nothing is more awkward that talking to the hostess with couples and parties of six all around you waiting to be seated. Awkwardness can be avoided if food is served at the bar, where you can belly up with all the other singles.
Bring a Book
It doesn't have to be something you're that into. Whatever you read will have to be re-read later anyway. It's more of a prop for when you get bored of people-watching or munching on chips/bread/appetizer. A magazine is great too. If all else fails, pick a place with a TV (inevitably playing a channel with some I-could-care-less sports event).
Just Go For It
Order whatever you want. Do it. Get a drink and an appetizer, get only dessert. Get something on the side. You have no one to please or accommodate. How often does that happen?!
Savor
Take your time. Order another margarita. Read more of your book. It's a date with yourself, and you know what Cybill Shepard would say back in the day. That's right. "You're worth it."
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Upchucks and Checking Out
I brought the cake to Shrek's house, and by the time it got there it didn't look as beautiful as it had the night before. It looked kind of floppy and beat up. But I served it to Shrek and his brother's family, who were visiting from Chicago. Shrek's nephews are adorable, and the older one, Streets, had some cake and told everyone he liked it. I was relieved. There's no way a three-year-old would lie.
Two minutes later, he vomited on the floor. I saw lots of undigested cake leave that poor child's mouth. His parents swear he'd simply eaten too much and the cake had put him over the edge, but I'm not sure I'll ever bake a cake from scratch again.
****
On another note, tonight I went out with all the assistants from our show for a farewell gathering. It was terrific because pretty much everyone showed up. I've gotten to work with some amazing and hilarious people the past two years, and it makes me sad that many of us will be moving on next season. Ah, well. All good things must come to an end, and for those who were there tonight there will always be A-dog singing, "Doooon't stop, belieeeeeevin'... hold on to that feeeeelaaayin'..." Fist pounding in the air. Priceless!
[PHOTO TO FOLLOW]
Happy Easter weekend!
Two minutes later, he vomited on the floor. I saw lots of undigested cake leave that poor child's mouth. His parents swear he'd simply eaten too much and the cake had put him over the edge, but I'm not sure I'll ever bake a cake from scratch again.
****
On another note, tonight I went out with all the assistants from our show for a farewell gathering. It was terrific because pretty much everyone showed up. I've gotten to work with some amazing and hilarious people the past two years, and it makes me sad that many of us will be moving on next season. Ah, well. All good things must come to an end, and for those who were there tonight there will always be A-dog singing, "Doooon't stop, belieeeeeevin'... hold on to that feeeeelaaayin'..." Fist pounding in the air. Priceless!
[PHOTO TO FOLLOW]
Happy Easter weekend!
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
A Shrek Birthday
Tomorrow is Shrek's birthday, and I just got done making him a cake from scratch. What would possess someone to do such a thing is a mystery, because it is quite a lot of trouble when you compare it to cake-in-a-box. It must be love....
I made him the cake from this recipe with the icing from this recipe. I'm nervous that the cake might be undercooked, but once it was frosted it looked gorgeous. I'll let you know how it tastes tomorrow!
I made him the cake from this recipe with the icing from this recipe. I'm nervous that the cake might be undercooked, but once it was frosted it looked gorgeous. I'll let you know how it tastes tomorrow!
Monday, April 02, 2007
Pack Your Way to Financial Freedom!
OK, the title of this blog is only half-accurate. It’s about packing clothes, not financial freedom, but I wanted to get across how revolutionary an idea this one is. It’s been on my mind for WEEKS, ever since I first heard of it. Forget about the Oprah Secret, my friends, this is the only Secret you need to know. If you’re traveling.
The idea first came into my world when DeeHo was packing for her 10-day trip to Israel and fretting over how to pack as efficiently as possible. Everyone has their quirk, and this is DeeHo’s. She’ll easily spend seven minutes wondering aloud whether to bring toothpaste or buy it there. Or bring it. Or buy it. While she does this I politely ignore her.
DeeHo had a friend over that night whose name I can never recall, so we’ll call her Jackie. Jackie asked, “Are you doing blacks or browns?” D and I looked at each other, puzzled.
Jackie explained that when you go on a trip you decide what you want to wear more of, blacks or browns, and you go from there. If you go with blacks, you bring your black shoes, jacket, purse, accessories, and everything else to match. No browns allowed. Committing to one is the hard part, but it makes packing a wondrous new experience. This I promise.
**************
If you haven’t been watching, tune in to Andy Barker, PI. Love it! Last week he went nuts on somebody for calling him a bookkeeper (he's actually an accountant/detective combination).
The idea first came into my world when DeeHo was packing for her 10-day trip to Israel and fretting over how to pack as efficiently as possible. Everyone has their quirk, and this is DeeHo’s. She’ll easily spend seven minutes wondering aloud whether to bring toothpaste or buy it there. Or bring it. Or buy it. While she does this I politely ignore her.
DeeHo had a friend over that night whose name I can never recall, so we’ll call her Jackie. Jackie asked, “Are you doing blacks or browns?” D and I looked at each other, puzzled.
Jackie explained that when you go on a trip you decide what you want to wear more of, blacks or browns, and you go from there. If you go with blacks, you bring your black shoes, jacket, purse, accessories, and everything else to match. No browns allowed. Committing to one is the hard part, but it makes packing a wondrous new experience. This I promise.
**************
If you haven’t been watching, tune in to Andy Barker, PI. Love it! Last week he went nuts on somebody for calling him a bookkeeper (he's actually an accountant/detective combination).
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Kielbasa's Back
Oh, how I’ve missed blogging! It’s good to be back.
Let’s get the shameless promotion out of the way first… if you wonder what I’ve been up to the last few months, my bosses were kind enough to let me write the first original webisode series for our show which launched on Friday. There will be eight total, one per week. While I like the first few just fine, they get juicier toward the end, so I hope you’ll check back and watch them weekly! I’ll remind you in case you forget.
This weekend marked the unofficial start of summer in LA, as far as I’m concerned. All signs pointed to summer. It may be only hinting at spring everywhere else in the country, but the past two days were all about outdoor dining and gazing at the ocean. True, I was on the lookout for affirmation, but I swear I noticed more families than usual hanging outside, bumper-to-bumper traffic on PCH, and the scent of grilled meat in the air. All to the beat of Will Smith’s “Summertime” playing on the soundtrack in my head.
What else to do on an easy, breezy, inaugural summer weekend than eat and drink in Malibu? It was straight out of my little girl fantasies of living in LA! Saturday was a fine meal of nachos and fish at Duke’s, and Sunday was spent at Paradise Cove chowing on more nachos and fried calamari. Don’t worry, it was all shared food, no need to pull out the elastic-waist stretch pants. Yet.
Shrek and I had delicious margaritas at Duke's, but my friends and I agreed that our mojitos at the Cove weren’t cold enough (too much mint, not enough ice) and therefore not the refreshing drink you want to pair with bar food. I tasted someone’s strawberry daquiri which was top notch, however.
Tomorrow, it’s back to real life, work, and striving for wellness. But for a few more hours, I’ll enjoy fishing the breaded, greasy goodness stuck in my teeth.
Celeb spotting:
Today, Roma Downey and fiancé Mark Burnett strolling along the beach with their horselike dog. And even better, two weeks ago I saw BORAT – Sacha Baron Cohen – and fiancée Isla Fisher while getting gelato. What a thrill!
Let’s get the shameless promotion out of the way first… if you wonder what I’ve been up to the last few months, my bosses were kind enough to let me write the first original webisode series for our show which launched on Friday. There will be eight total, one per week. While I like the first few just fine, they get juicier toward the end, so I hope you’ll check back and watch them weekly! I’ll remind you in case you forget.
This weekend marked the unofficial start of summer in LA, as far as I’m concerned. All signs pointed to summer. It may be only hinting at spring everywhere else in the country, but the past two days were all about outdoor dining and gazing at the ocean. True, I was on the lookout for affirmation, but I swear I noticed more families than usual hanging outside, bumper-to-bumper traffic on PCH, and the scent of grilled meat in the air. All to the beat of Will Smith’s “Summertime” playing on the soundtrack in my head.
What else to do on an easy, breezy, inaugural summer weekend than eat and drink in Malibu? It was straight out of my little girl fantasies of living in LA! Saturday was a fine meal of nachos and fish at Duke’s, and Sunday was spent at Paradise Cove chowing on more nachos and fried calamari. Don’t worry, it was all shared food, no need to pull out the elastic-waist stretch pants. Yet.
Shrek and I had delicious margaritas at Duke's, but my friends and I agreed that our mojitos at the Cove weren’t cold enough (too much mint, not enough ice) and therefore not the refreshing drink you want to pair with bar food. I tasted someone’s strawberry daquiri which was top notch, however.
Tomorrow, it’s back to real life, work, and striving for wellness. But for a few more hours, I’ll enjoy fishing the breaded, greasy goodness stuck in my teeth.
Celeb spotting:
Today, Roma Downey and fiancé Mark Burnett strolling along the beach with their horselike dog. And even better, two weeks ago I saw BORAT – Sacha Baron Cohen – and fiancée Isla Fisher while getting gelato. What a thrill!
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