Royfest 2007: Day 1

I didn't finish cleaning, but that's okay. Roy's family. I didn't do laundry, but that's okay. I barely made it to the airport on time, but that's okay. For once it was fairly painless to get around LAX and I picked him up curbside without incident. I forgot to take the 405 to go to Tito's Tacos for lunch, but that's okay. We went to Tommy's on Beverly instead. I forgot my camera, but that's okay. We had fun--trust me.

So, the culinary tour has begun. Tommy's chili burgers were a hit. mmmm...
At 7:15ish we ventured out to Highland Park for Ellen Bloom's art opening. Now, like an idiot, I didn't jot down the address or remember the name of the gallery. So after three trips up and down Figueroa, I finally saw something that looked like a gallery of some sort and--Ta Da! We found it. Ellen looked faboo as the artist in residence and many of her incredible pieces were sold by the time we got there. And then we found...CHICKEN BOY! Chicken Boy is awesome. Too tall to live. Too weird to die. Amy, the gallery owner, bought Chicken Boy and saved him from his original location. He now lives in her backyard. Headless. Oh, he has a head.
It's just not attached. Poor Chicken Boy. Amy hopes to install Chicken Boy (avec tete) in a permanent home (maybe on her gallery?) , so I signed a petition to help make it so.
Here Darcy tries on CB's body for size. Hmm...not quite.

After gazing at art and marveling at the talented Ms. Bloom, we (The Roy and I) left to find food. But first, we couldn't pass up this photo op.Who's your buddy?

We decided to find something closer to home and after passing two horrific multi-car accidents on the 110 within yards of one another, I forgot to change lanes and ended up in the Hill Street lane, so I said, "Hey Roy, wanna go to Chinatown?" Oh, that reminds me--Gwen, I found that pagoda thingy in Ellen's painting. It's on Hill just as you come off the freeway on the left side of the street near a sign that reads "Chinatownland." Anywho, we ate at Won Kok, which wasn't on my list for the Culinary Tour, but this girl never passes up the Kok. It was tasty. We saw what appeared to be a small wedding party, a band of Mariachi's, and a cop in really, really tight pants.

Tomorrow: the local farmer's market, and perhaps Olivera Street and a trip to Philippe's.

*Roy is not wee; Jesus is huge.

TGIF13

I woke up late--well, I woke up on time, but my eyes refused to stay open--so I was in bathroom rushing to get ready for work when I heard a ruckus going on outside the window. I opened the window a bit more and saw a girl pigeon clearly peeved and a boy pigeon doing his best to get her attention. His chest was all puffed up, tail feathers fanned, head bobbing like John Travolta (the early years) doing his pigeon version of "If I could rearrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together." I opened the window more and it didn't seem to disturb his game. So, I went to get my camera. I returned to the bathroom, turned on the camera and this is what I got.


That's him on the left, acting as if he's just waiting for the bus. "Nothing to see here, lady. Move along." I turned off the camera and went back to putting on make-up and he started up with the bobbing and puffing act again. Every time I put the camera near the window--nothing. I guess that's why you don't see pigeon porn in the video stores.

Also, around 4:15ish today, there was a fire west of my office. It appeared to be somewhere in the Vermont area, so I stayed a little late at work and our fine Los Angeles Fire Department had it out in no time.

Don't mind the blue haze. We have tinted windows at work.

I'm not ready!!

The Roy will be here in two days and I'm not ready. My apartment is still a mess (he's family; he'll understand). I don't have a spare key made yet. And groceries--we'll need 'em, even though I plan on taking him on a culinary tour of the best cheap eats in the city (and beyond).
I tried to vacuum yesterday (because Jax was coming over to visit) and I'm humming along when suddenly I smelled something burning. Then, the vacuum started to smoke. My hair had wrapped around the brush and jammed it, causing the hair to burn. And there's nothing worse than the smell of singed hair.

The kitchen sink drips and ya'll know how much I hate having to deal with Frau Piss-me-off, so I haven't told her. Now the bathtub is doing some funky dribble thing and I'm going to have to break down and tell her. Pooh.

But did I mention The Roy will be here? I'm excited.


*for those not in the know, The Roy is my nephew and one of my best friends.

Bread, Carrots, Milk, and Eggs...oh and...

There was a childrens story, or maybe it was a Sesame Street episode, in which a kid is given a list by his mother and sent to the market. It's not written down, but in his head. Along the way, he sees things that get added to his list. So when he gets to the market, he can't remember what he was supposed to get and comes back with all the wrong things. It's a cautionary tale of staying focused and not getting distracted. Clearly, it never sunk in with me.

I woke up early Saturday with every intention of doing the following:
9:30am--Go to Greyhound and get a refund for the return trip ticket I didn't use.
10:00am--Go to recycling center and cash in the big bag o' cans.
10:30am--LAUDRY
12:30pm--Come home and begin cleaning apartment to make it presentable for my nephew's visit next week.
5:30pm--Make dinner, rest, and knit.

What I actually did:
9:30am--Check Greyhound's return policy online. While I'm here, I might as well check my email. Oh look, Bob replied. I wonder what he's up to. I miss him. Let me check the Del Mar schedule so we former Tower folk can go to the races this summer. Better email the guys and let them know the Del Mar schedule. Oh look, Marnie replied already. What's this? Rick already posted something on the Tower alumni site? Better check the Tower alum site for Rick's post. Oh, look at all the fun posts on here. Oh Bob Z. Oh, Bill. Ah, Jim T. Thunder!! I miss these guys.
7:00pm--Holy Crap! Have I been online this whole time? Oh well, time for Jeopardy.

Yep, that was a wasted day, but not as bad as my 4th of July (don't ask).
However, on Sunday when I actually did all that stuff I had planned for Saturday (minus the cleaning because it was freakin' hot and I was tired), I discovered that Saturday was a bad day at the Greyhound station while Sunday was downright empty. I also discovered that on Saturday, the A/C at the laundromat was broken, but it was fixed by Sunday. Also, the recycling machines were out of order on Saturday, but not so on Sunday. So, I guess it wasn't so bad to be a lazy lump on Saturday after all.

*edit* Uccellina found the Sesame Street episode here, but there was also a book or something because I remember the kid coming home with cookies...hmmm, anyone else familiar with this?

I tried to park but was shunned

Seriously, I drove around for 20 minutes fighting A-holes and whatnots for the last two parking spaces at the Farmers Market last night, but gave up in the end because I was hot and crampy.
I'm sorry, Ladies of SnB.

And Blogger has been a beyotch and not letting me post. Waaaahhh!

Scandal and exhaltation in the Ladies Room

Remember last Tuesday when I told you about Baby Daddy Drama having a meeting in the ladies room with her homies and one of them was crying? Well...(lean in close, I'm gonna dish) apparently the crying girl had a pregnancy scare. She and Baby Daddy Drama were in the ladies room today waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Much rejoicing ensued when the results were found to be negative.

Have a great holiday, everyone. I've already started the celebration.

I'm alive and not burnt to a crisp

I had a grand plan to take Greyhound and leave the driving to them. Oh, I was going to sit back and get some knitting on the way to Palm Springs and arrive unperturbed by the traffic and driving fatigue. The Greyhound station is only two blocks from my hotel, so no problems here. Oh, what a silly girl I am.

First, the bus from Hollywood stops in downtown LA where I had to change buses and wait 45 minutes. It ended up being an hour and 15 minutes. There are signs all over about forbidden items such as guns, knives, mace, sharp pointy things, etc., yet there was absolutely no security check to make sure no one was carrying said forbidden treasures. And believe me, there were some questionable characters. Even while the television in the waiting area displayed CNN coverage of the London car bomb, there were suitcases sitting unattended.


As I was waiting in line, a man came up and asked everyone in line where they were going. "Are you going to Palm Springs?" Most of us were, but many were going to places like Riverside, Indio, Banning, etc., so everytime he got a "no" response to his question, he'd panic and ask more. Then he went to the counter and found Greyhound employee, who walked him over to our line. Behind me, there was a mom and her three (or four) kids. One, a little boy about 4 years old, whose name was either Brandon or Alejandro--she called him both names and he answered to both-- was a right terror. Then, a weird blond Matt LeBlanc wannabe scammed his way to the front of the line by chatting up some backpacking tourists. Jerk!

On the bus, Mr. Panic whips out a Boost mobile phone and proceeds to "Where you at" for the first 30 minutes of the trip. I gave him the "seriously? 3 hours of this?" look and he put the phone away. However, our driver saw no reason to hang up his cell phone. So what if 40 peoples' lives are in your hands, you need to dish. At every stop along the route, Panic would ask the driver or a fellow passenger, "Is this the bus to Palm Springs?" Oh, for crying out loud, YES!

2 hours and 40 minutes later, the bus pulls into a strip mall in the middle of nowhere and stops in front of a liquor store--"Palm Springs," announces the driver. Everyone of us with tickets to Palm Springs simultaneously shouted, "What???" Apparently, the bus station on Indian Canyon Drive is closed for repairs. Apparently, there is not a closer place to drop us off. As you can see here, I was dropped off at the corner of Vista Chino and Gene Autry. The arrow indicates my hotel. It was a $16 cab ride. (after a 15 minute wait, during which my ears got a little burned.)

Alls well that ends well, the room was lovely (see photos), the meetings were bearable, I won $100.50 on the nickel slots, and my friend, Terry, drove me home instead of making me take the horrid bus. Oh, and we stopped at Cabazon on the way home, where I purchased a summer handbag with my winnings. Woo Hoo!

King sized!!

with a sofa! Sweet!!!