Speechless

Dudes, I am speechless after yesterday. First of all, it was my mom's birthday and SJ Lapponka finished her film, which usually would be more than enough dirt. But on top of that, I spent all day glued to the television, watching history being made at the DNC.

An African-American has been nominated for President. I can't believe it. I've been tearing up all week; I've never been prouder.

As I watched everything go down in Mile High Stadium, I kept thinking about what the Founding Fathers would say if they could have seen it. Dig it: Participation back in the day was a bunch of white dudes in wigs who rode in on horseback. Today, it's a football stadium with live music and a guy named Barack Obama talking. Could any of them ever have imagined it?

I think they, too, would have been speechless.

Surrounded by Celebrity

The Real Janelle and I were writing at the Alcove today, and when we went to sit down, it turns out that Bill Paxton was at the table right behind me. (Didn't know who he was; he didn't move out of the way so I could sit down.)

A few minutes later, TRJ signalled (by yelling over her iPod) that Mark Ruffalo was across the garden. (Really fucking cute - checked him out way before I knew who he was.) And, the week before, I was leaving the Alcove and I passed Adrian Grenier in the crosswalk. (So good-looking I got completely flustered and fake-checked my phone.)

That's what it's like, living in LA; I just can't shake the celebrities. Man, I wish they'd stop following me. But they seem to spot me all the time, where they can just gaze upon me, fo' free.

Twentyseven Palms, CA

Viva 27 Palms! (That's Twentnine Palms, with 1 palm deducted for the beyond-Monty-Python Italian restaurant and 1 for the mouse in the middle of the night.)

Yes, me and Ali G crept outta town this weekend, and I relaxed so much I felt like I was in an alternate universe. I could barely raise my head off the lounge to take this picture.

And it's cheep right now, especially in the middle of the week. I wanna go back...

Come On Eileen

So yesterday was the lovely Eileen's bday (and my friend Justin's - shout out to Chicago), so we celebrated 80s style, outside and downtown, and I mean dance party. Dudes, you have never seen so many side-ponies in your life, and a special mention goes out to the chick who wore only a leotard. I did jello shots fo' free, watched Eileen dance to "Come On Eileen," and of course got my picture taken with my Asian sisters. This picture is frightening.

Happy Birthday Eileen!

Ride. Share.

Dudes, me and G-Reg + The Real Janelle got a good system worked out, fo' free. We all agreed that we'd call whenever we needed a ride to or from the airport and if we possibly could we'd take each other, so that we could all save on the bullshit cab/parking/shared-ride fees and the horrible attendant dramas and delays.

It's worked pretty well so far (except for when TRJ had to circle LAX fo' 45 minutes while I waited in vain to clear customs from Australia), and you get to decline if it's ridiculously early in the morning or tres late at night.

So this AM I gave them a ride to BUR, which means: A nice little catch-up, and money in the ride-bank when I need to go to SF or Arkansas or wherever in September. Word. Find a friend who lives near you and hook it up.

The Fortune of Tula and Steve

The good fortune of meeting each other. Of having their friends and family join them at the beautiful Veranda Bar in the Hotel Figueroa to celebrate their engagement. And the lovely little fortune cookies, crafted fo' cheep, so that all their loved ones could write personalized fortunes for their life together.

Fortunate, indeed.

I Know What You're Doing Tonight, Peeps

Watching Project Runway, of course. If you don't get Bravo, go over to a friend's house and watch it fo' free. (And guys, you don't have to lie anymore and say your girlfriend makes you watch it.)

And thanks to my new neighbor Krist-O for the best homage I've ever seen.

Free Concert, Scientology-Style

Once a year the Scientology Celebrity Centre puts on a big concert in their front yard, which is right across the street from my house. They have great singers and a huge sound system, so I just throw open the windows and take in the music, fo' free.

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. When it comes to concerts, anyway.

Silver Lake Supper Club

So Saturday I spent all day chopping every known vegetable on the planet. Why, you ask? Because I was hanging out sous-chef style with my girl Carrie. Because I got to attend her amazing Silver Lake Supper Club that night fo' free. And because I love to cook and Carrie is the best chef I know, so I figured I could learn while I chopped and I chomped.

My girl's Silver Lake Supper Club brings together perfect strangers in secret locations to eat an amazing gourmet Slow Food meal, every other month. There's a wait list, dudes, and it is long. (Unless you chop all day, and then you zoom right to the front.)

This time, the secret location was this pretty Schindler house with a gorgeous view and a really nice host, the menu was vegetarian, and I got to feel like I kinda saved the day when I McGyvered tea bags out of coffee filters and toothpicks. Very satisfying.

I will leave you with the menu. I myself left with half a coconut cake.

Wild mushroom crostini
...
Artichoke soup with purple basil pesto
...
Heirloom watermelon, black olive and feta salad
Corn and cabbage slaw with orange vinaigrette
...
Braised leeks with lemon, thyme and mustard seed
Roasted green and yellow baby zucchini with heirloom tomato and ricotta filling
...
Coconut cake with mint cream
Fresh white peaches
Organic tea

Bacon Alarm Clock

I received this from the Jacobs half of Jacobs and Diaz, Attorneys At Law. He wrote simply:

"Because you should know about these things."

See, things aren't all bad.

Bruised.

Dudes, I can barely walk, and this one's not even the bad leg. The other one's the one with the twisted knee. Ladies and gentleman, I am a gimp.

Don't get me wrong - I've rocked it down to San Diego (where I DIDN'T get to surf and DID get a bad sunburn), I've been for cocktails with Tutu, I spent last night at the Hollywood Bowl listening to the crickets outperform the Symphony during a Beethoven sonata, and tonight I'm introducing Ali G. to her new cactus family - but somehow these stupid bad things keep happening. Earthquakes*, injuries, sunburns - and on top of it all, I can't even train for the half-marathon that I've worked hard to get ready for.

What the hell is going on? Am I the only one who's feeling like something has to give before the whole damn world explodes?

*I also learned that the whole earthquake advisory thing I posted was a bunch of crap that's been debunked all over the place. See, even the disaster planning is going wrong...