Sh*t, We Just Had A Major Earthquake

I am OK - I was working in a cafe and at first I thought the dude behind me was kicking my chair. Then I realized he was nowhere near close enough. Then the ground started rolling and outside all the stop signs started waving and the telephone poles and cafe umbrellas did too and I knew it was an earthquake. I jumped up with about a dozen other people and went outside while the rest of the fools sat there next to the big plate glass windows and steaming espresso machines. I grabbed my phone in case I couldn't come back - little good that did me; the lines were and are still blocked. It was still swaying a bit outside and then it stopped.

Then we found out it was 5.8 and based in Pomona. The USGS is calling it a moderate quake. Fuck that - there was nothing moderate about it.

SHIT! I'm still shaky.

The one thing that is not so great about LA. But still fo' free.

Cocopalooza '08

Well, we all got home from LOP in one piece after turning into a bunch of tequila-drinking six-year-olds for the birthday weekend bash. That's right, peeps, it was Year #2, and just like last time, we slept out under the stars, swam ourselves silly, hung out on Worm Island, and had the boat break down at the crucial moment during the Poontang Booze Cruise. Thanks to everyone who came - I love you more than bacon.

And, for those of you who weren't able to make it (and in the spirit of full disclosure that I wasn't always as fly as I am now - sometimes it takes a while to grow into it), here's a gift for you: The high school graduation photo that my parents proudly display on the wall by the stairs.

Perfect Morning

Yesterday I got up early, drove to Santa Monica (no traffic), had a run along the beach, then jumped into the Pacific and had a little swim before heading off to work. The run was beautiful - surfers and Ferris wheels and architecture to check out - and the water was perfect. Perfect. I was happy and salty and shiny and all exercised and caffeinated before 9AM.

No day can be bad when you start with a swim in the ocean. Just get up and do it. I'm gonna do it every week. Fo' free.

Dog On Wheels

I need this dog. Seriously. This is the one I want. How do you beat a dog with a cart?

Anyway, I can't have a dog (apartment, travel, blah), but if you can, get one at a rescue! So much cheeeper than purebreds! And these cute bitches need homes!

Hippos In Hollywood

The LA Zoo is, like, 5 miles from my house and I've been wanting to go forever, so on Saturday I strolled on down. It's fun to walk through, it looks all lush and retro, and you def get to see a cross-section of LA that you (I) never see. However, the animals were mostly all asleep cause it was so dang hot, so there weren't a lot of creatures to gawk at, but I do have to say, I love the fact that a hippo lives 5 miles from my house, and really, what's cuter than twin baby giraffes?

Cute Girl Discount

So this morning I got my stereo fixed by my mechanic, Stuart, fo' free. Well, actually, he tried to fix it and couldn't, so he sent me down a couple blocks to his stereo guys. Who showed me what was wrong with it, fo' free. (Simple re-programming, not in the manual.)

Stuart the Mechanic said, "I'd take the car down there for you, but to be brutally honest, you'll do better if you take it in." Which opened up a discussion of the Cute Girl Discount.

Which, I said, I was happy to take, given the fact that women make 78 cents on the dollar on the average compared to men. (This is the point where most guys I know start backing slowly out of the room.) And there's the fact that women have to spend quality time finding a mechanic who won't try to screw them.

Stuart, proving himself finer than most, totally agreed with my assessment, which basically is: It all comes out in the wash.

Malo es Bueno

Discussing the upcoming August pig roast over Cucumber- Jalapeno Tequila Sunrises and soft tacos carnitas on the patio at Malo.

A perfect LA night, fo' cheep.

Welcome Squish

So I went over to C-Reg and Carina's yesterday to see their brand new baby, whom I have nicknamed Squish. She is the cutest, and her real name is Kira. I got to hold her and hang out with Carina and her mom and have a teeny glass of wine with Carina for the first time in about nine months.

Family time - it feels so rare in LA.New babies sure aren't fo' free for the parents, but they are if you're Auntie Coco.

Welcome Squish - six days old and you already made the Dirt Alert.

Coco Unplugged

So I got home from the Lake O' The Pines Family Fourth-Fest at 9AM yesterday; a fantastic a blur of swimming and cold beers and nephews and 20 people getting up and going to bed at all hours of the day and the night. It's true that you never knew when someone was going to make a sheetcake next to your head at 6AM, but that was part of the fun.

As great as it was, it is also fair to say that wasn't the most restful four days of my life. Especially since I got up at 3:30AM to make my flight. So I did something yesterday that I HIGHLY recommend: I unplugged.

What this means is - I lay on the couch all morning and drank coffee and read a book; I fell asleep for awhile; I woke up, grilled a sausage, drank a beer and watched the Red Sox game; I hung out in the bathtub and finished my book; I generally ignored my phone and my email and my 500 little errands that I usually do when I have a "day off." I didn't literally unplug (please...) but I didn't leave the house and I did generally goof off. The picture to the right is the best summary of me and my day.

A day to yourself. Now that is a vacation. Fo' free.

What...?

Dudes, yesterday I was doing my thrice-weekly run through my Hollywood neighborhood and I ran right by A PEACOCK. It was just wandering around the street, no big deal, like it was a pigeon or a sparrow or whatever. A peacock with a really pretty tail, just like the one to the right. Fo' me. Fo' free.

And PS no I am not talking about the beautiful boys and girls who strut down The Catwalk near my house every night.

Made In America

So Friday night I took a break from finishing up my script (turned in Sunday, yo!) and went to see "Made In America," the amazing doc that my friends Shaun and G.U.S. produced. It screened outside at 350 S. Grand, downtown LA, fo' free, and it's a movie about the gangs in Los Angeles, so the balmy air and helicopters and surrounding skyscrapers melded into the film.

Dudes, this is an amazingly good movie on a subject that nobody talks about - the conditions in LA and the US that gave rise to gang activity and the war between the Crips and the Bloods. Maybe the most startling fact was that it's a civil war that's been going on longer than the conflict in Northern Ireland and more lives have been lost, but it hasn't gotten any attention or resources. Well, certainly a lot less than we're spending on the Iraqis. (Clearly you don't want to get me started on this...)

And at the end, a bunch of the guys who were in the film stood up for a Q&A, and they were among the most powerful speakers I've heard in a long time. They're devoting their lives to stopping gang violence, and their organizations are down on the ground doing the good work. Check 'em out, give 'em money, see the movie, and spread the word.

Dirt Gets Props

So I was at Asian Dinner last night (my nickname at these events is Yao Ming), and not one but two of the ladies the table gave The Dirt Alert the best props ever. Ms. P, a songwriter, said she was stuck for something to write about the other day, so she scrolled through the Alert for inspiration, fo' free. Then Ms. E, who writes for a children's animated series, chimed in and said she's done the exact same thing.

I tell you, it's enough to make you pick up the laptop and make three posts today. That, and the fact that it's been a while and there's been so much Dirt.

Get Wet

I just wanted to remind everyone here in El Ey that we live near the ocean. You should go get in it, immediately. Especially while it's so damn hot. I did last weekend and it was amazing, and then we went and ate fish and drank beer. A perfect day.

Sometimes I forget that I'm the luckiest person in the world, but that reminded me. Citizens of LA, there are people living in land-locked places all over our fair country who would kill to be able to drive to a So. Cal beach. For some of them, that's even called a dream vacation.

And did you remember that the ocean is fo' free?

The Upside of Contracting (Viva Espana!)

The upside of working long weekends and living through feast-or-famine work cycles: You can watch the World Cup at 2PM and drink beer and eat sausages WHILE working. And since you're getting paid, it's better than fo' free.

Bonus extra: The Scottish announcer, Andy Gray, who is never afraid of a few bad puns: "The rain and Spain poured down on the Russian defensive plain, and thunder rumbled and lightning flashed as the Spanish fired a few crackers of their own."

The New York Times digs him as much as I do: "Gray has been the extra revelation of Euro 2008."

Second bonus extra (lady-style): Watching a bunch of Italian/Spanish/Dutch dudes run around in shorts. So much better than American sports.

Go Spain!

Life Is Beautiful

That's the name of the art show I went to last night - VIP preview suckas! (Which means, free wine.)

Mr. Brainwash is this guy who runs with Banksy and Shepard Fairey (who, apparently, I met last night when I was talking to my friend Josh).

AND, my other friend Josh bought me dinner at my fave low-fi excellent sushi place, Ike Sushi, so the whole night was fo' free.

AND, it's summer in LA, so after peeping the art, we hung out in the courtyard and rocked the sexywarm night. Life is indeed beautiful. (Although Obama, Hilary and McCain as founding fathers are a bit scary.)

Finally Everyone Can Get Married

...At least in California. Gays and lesbians are getting married in the park in West Hollywood right now. Rock it out before some jerks take it back to court.

Because it's Hollywood, among them is George Takei - Sulu of Star Trek. Checkov is the best man and Uhura is the matron of honor. Trekkies across the globe must be wetting their pants.

Equality is nice. But it sure ain't fo' free.

I told you this was the Summer of Love.

My Marxist Feminist Dialectic Brings All The Boys To The Yard

Sorry, peeps, it's too late to buy it for me for my birthday; I already ordered it. Oh my goodness, I haven't laughed this hard in a long time.

It's hard for a girl in the modern age to bring together her politics AND her love of booty-bumpin' phat jamz in one pithy image on her chest fo' cheep. Word up to TorsoPants!

All We Ever Wanted Was This Book Party

Ms. Janelle Brown had her very first reading last night at our friendly neighborhood bookstore, Skylight Books, where she rocked the house with a couple passages from her fab new book "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything."

Then we all rolled on down to the afterparty, where the people were looking good, the snax were looking good, the St. Germain cocktails were looking good, and the ice cream sundae bar was looking good twice.

But the best part (besides the amazing fucking achievement of Janelle writing a novel, getting it published, seeing it turn into a real live book, and finding it on the shelves at a store) was the genuine sense of celebration and affection that permeated the event. It was the perfect night - one of those rocking parties you'd always imagined attending, when you grew up and you and your friends started achieving all you'd ever wanted.

photo by tula jeng.

Baby's First Apocalypse

We had a baby shower for Carina on Sunday, which meant a lot of presents for her and a lot of wine for everyone else - a fair deal by any standards. I'm happy to say it felt more like a chill afternoon with all my best girls on Hilary and Christine's super-dope porch than anything else.

There was one game - we each made a fake scrapbook page for Carina and Craig's impending bebe. The winner: "Baby's First Apocalypse."

Yes, it was that kind of shower. Congrats, C*C!

Live Screenprinting Salon with HIT+RUN Today!

Dudes, Farmlab is this cool org downtown that focuses on considering the urban space, weird eco-projects, and just plain cool shit. And I just found out that you can go down there and make your own t-shirt today at noon with this badass t-shirt collective, FO' FREE!

WHY DO I HAVE TO WORK?!?!?

Live Screenprinting with HIT+RUN

Los Angeles silkscreen collective HIT+RUN brings their mobile screenprinting studio to Farmlab for a limited edition printing session. Choose the combination and placement of exclusive designs to create your own one-of-a-kind custom t-shirt live on the spot.

OBAMA WINS!

I know I've been using a lot of exclamation points lately, but this truly deserves one. I am nearly in tears - scratch that - I am in tears. I can't believe I'm seeing an African American win the nomination of a major party in the United States of America. I've never ever ever felt this proud of our political system.

I got nothin'. I'm speechless.

Excuse me while I go dance in the streets.

Dick & Sonda Turn 40!

That's right, my parents celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary yesterday.

What did they do, you ask? They went to Reno and stayed in a hotel fo' free and gambled fo' free (Dick had a coupon, yo) and won $148 bux. Then me and my loving siblings sent them to a fancy dinner at Washoe Grill, one of Reno's best new restaurants, so they could eat some prime rib fo' free.

Mom, thanks for going on that blind date to the Torch Lounge in Flint, MI 41 years ago, even though your hair was dirty and you didn't feel like it. Dad, thanks for ceasing to hit on the cocktail waitress as soon as mom walked in (no dummy). And both of you, thanks for rocking it from China to the Czech Republic in white sneakers and blue windbreakers, being way too strict while I was young and completely lenient now that I'm old, and most of all, thanks for showing us all how it's done, long-term style.

UPDATE: Free Cupcakes!

So on the day I post this thing about free cupcakes, Steve comes over and we go out to sushi before he continues on to a birthday party, and before he leaves for the party, he gives me a coco cupcake, fo' free.

BEHOLD THE POWER OF THE BLOG!

Free Cupcakes!

I got this email from Siouxsie Sue the other day:

Hey cupcake! I see the word "free" and think of you:

Eat: Free Cupcakes at Crumbs
Thursday at 216 N Larchmont Blvd, Hancock Park; 323.464.8400

To celebrate their latest opening, Crumbs is giving away free 'cakes to their first 1000 customers, from pistachio and carrot to childhood faves like Reese's Pieces and Oreo Cookie -- the perfect meta-dessert after a meal of hamburger-flavored ribs.

xoxo S.

See, that is what I am talking about. If The Dirt Alert has done nothing for me but make people think of Coco when they see free cupcakes, then I'm a happy woman.

Sadly, I could not partake, nor could I even post about them in time for you-all to go get a free cake. Right now work is very much getting in the way of being broke and having the best life. Ah, the trade-offs...

Thanks, Siouxsie Sue!

Janelle's Book Is Out Today!

It's called All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, and it is dope. And not just because I'm thanked in the acknowledgements. Or because she was reviewed in People (this week's issue with the bulldog on the cover). But don't trust me, trust Publisher's Weekly:

“A withering Silicon Valley satire . . . Brown's hip narrative reads like a sharp, contemporary twist on The Corrections.”

Her first novel! I am so proud. Now get thee to a bookstore or click on the link above, cause all you ever wanted was this badass summer read.

Magnificent Obsession

I've been doing this super-cool job lately where I've been researching the history of crime in Los Angeles from the late 1800s to present day, and I have to say, it's the most fascinating thing I've done in a long time and I can't believe I get paid to do it.

I've met all these super-smart geeky below-the-radar crimesters who know everything and a cast of genuine LA characters who were actually there when the shit went down. I've had so many amazing conversations and incredible experiences that I plan on dining out on them for the next year. The next time we hang out, I'll tell you some.

Yesterday I talked with this amazing woman, Joan, who collects cosmetics ephemera throughout the ages. She argues that old powder puffs, rouge jars, perfume bottles and compacts tell a social history of feminism, and I have to say I agree. Plus, her stuff is beautiful.

We talked about Bad Girls Throughout The Ages - where they hung out (opium dens and blind pigs), what they wore (makeup - gasp!), what they did (bad stuff), and of course, what they put on their faces (different from what good girls wore).

And, as she told me story after story about robber queens, husband killers, and what color powder the Black Dahlia wore, we talked about why it's so cool to get really passionate about something; because it's a lens through which the whole world opens up. And we agreed that it almost doesn't matter what your subject is - any obsession is magnificent.

Summer of Love Exhibit #2 - Tula and Steve

Proof that this is indeed the Summer of Love: Steve popped the question and Tula said si!

This is their extremely gothy selves at Bar Sinister the other night.

Hmmm...another addition to the Goth Roll Call?

Engaged Goths.

Mid-Air

Summer of Love Exhibit #1:

Yesterday my friend and I were strolling through Little Tokyo at dusk, having just chomped on some righteous noodles fo' cheep at this teeny little noodle house. Suddenly, right in front of our faces, a sparrow swooped in and plucked a big black bug out of the air, not more than six inches away. The bird took its prey down and started chomping, crunch crunch, fo' free. I've never seen anything like it.

If that's not love, I don't know what is.

Open Season

Dudes, the Summer of Love is ON.

So go get you some. Fo' free.

Goth Roll Call

Dudes, I did something Saturday night that I haven't done in about ten years: I went to a goth club. Miss T's friend Jill Tracy, this dark smartypants singer from SF, was performing, so we dug out some of our old goth remnants and swirl-danced on down to Bar Sinister.

The Queen of the Night, by far, was Gennan, who busted out coupons at the door for half off the cover charge. Using coupons to get into a goth club fo' cheep threw the evening onto a whole other plane, and I'm happy to say that it stayed there all night. We walked into an open-air courtyard replete with dripping candelabra, misty fountains, handmade jewelry and light bondage stations, and, unlike SF, LA is goth lite, so the music was actually good. But it was the costuming that was not to be believed.

Goth Roll Call:

- Paparazzi Goth: 6'4" Mohawk'd skinny dude in 9-inch heels.
- J. Geils Goth: Striped shirt, tweaking.
- Hugh Hefner Goth: Jacquard robe, swirly-danced with a golf-club shaped silver-tipped cane.
- Go-Go Goths: Hot girls in goth lingerie dancing on platforms.
- German Army Goth: Military jacket, floor length man-skirt.
- Gothlings: Boylets who followed Jill around.
- Get Smart Goths: Couple in a beret and chic 60s outfits.
- Rennaissance Goth: Long-haired boys standing alone by pillars.
- Gas Mask Goth: Some weird dude who kept putting on and taking off a gas mask.
- Corset Goth: Ginormous breasts served up on a platter.
- Mr. Sister Goth: Large-and-in-charge tranny goodness.

Friends, we could not stop laughing the entire night (very un-goth, I know), BUT, contrary to the dude at the bar who goth-served me for our commentary, it was actually all said with a deep, deep affection and respect for these lovely children of darkness. (And a hint for you guys out there: Forget what you've heard about insulting a girl as a great way to pick her up.)

Back in my little home, I wiped the last smear of dark eyeliner off my face and thought about all that I love about goths - I love that they dress up, I love that they Stevie-Nicks dance, and, as usual, I love that this whole other macabre-lite world exists just a mere five-minute walk from my house.

Monster Park

This is where we ate dumplings on the "Blood and Dumplings" tour. It's called Monster Park because its populated by concrete sea monsters, like this lovely pink whale here.

The sculptures were made by this Mexican sculptor, Benjamin Dominguez, in the 60s. Families used to drive for miles to bring their kids here to slide down the sea dragon and swing from the squid.

But in 2006, some mean city officials decided that they wanted to raze the whole menagerie, so a group of concerned citizens (and former playgrounders) got together and saved it. And I would like to say: Thank you, Friends of La Laguna, for saving this weird whimsical place so that new generations of LA kids can play on some world class sculpture fo' free.

My Burning Man Financial Plan

Would you take financial advice from this guy?

I did.

I met my buddy Yoni (yes he knows) when we drove to Burning Man together. Eight hours in the car with a stranger coulda been bad. It wasn't.

So last week Yoni gave my name to his friend Ben, who's a genius at helping folks set up a financial plan for that time in the future when we will hopefully no longer be broke but will still want to have the best lives.

In our very short meeting, Ben endeared himself to me by a) helping me develop short-term and long-term $plan$ that totally made sense, FO' FREE, and b) telling me that even if I ignored everything he said, I could still call him at any moment for the rest of my life and he would give me even more financial advice which I could then ignore, FO' FREE.

So basically, he's gonna help me get money for nothin'. Who knew I could get my shit more-than-together for so cheep?

In the playa-approved spirit of passing on the good stuff: benjamin.brin@nmfn.com. And, thanks, Yon.

Blood And Dumplings

Darling readers, I got to do something this weekend that I've ALWAYS wanted to do. I went on Esotouric's Crime Bus, where these smart, hilarious guides take you on a tour of LA's historic true crimes scenes.

These folks have gleefully turned over every rock in our fair city to reveal the slimy secrets that lie beneath, and they're happy to dish them up along with dumplings to a busload of nosy urban-spelunking weird-history geeks like myself. (And a bunch of Red Hat Ladies, who didn't seem to be as thrilled with the expletives and the ephemaera as I was.)

This one was themed 'Blood and Dumplings', and took us through the San Gabriel Valley, sometimes lovingly referred to as the "rat's asshole of LA." (I'm paraphrasing Mr. James Ellroy cause I'm too lazy to look it up.) Who knew there were that many trailer parks? Or the onetime headquarters of the US Nazi Party? Or lesbian roommates shooting each other up with coma-inducing drugs? Well, now I do.

Then we ate dumplings from one of LA's most amazing secret restaurants. What could be better?

Oh yeah, the fact that it was FO' FREE, cause I went on it for work! (Usually $60 bux, which is why I hadn't done it yet.)

Thanks and secret handshakes to Richard and Kim and their partners in mayhem who made the tour so fun, and a tip of the fedora to my crime buddy, Terry, my new favorite denizen of our cracked-up oddball glorious rotting city.

Faygotastic.

Pop. Not soda. And you pronounce the 'o' like an 'a'.

I got all nostalgic when I found Faygo pop in a grocery store in Traverse City. It's a local Michigan brew, and I lived on it when I was a kid, cause it was cheep. So I hauled a bunch home and shared it with fellow Michiganders and other lucky friends. It tasted like syrup, sticky and sweet.

And then there's the real syrup that my Aunt Jan gave me. She made it. With her friend. Who has maple trees. Homemade. It takes 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of syrup. That's right, suckas. Pancakes at my house.

(And check out the Faygo recipe site - Faygotastic Ribs!)

Life, Liberty, Beaches and Pie

Yep, that's the slogan of my ancestral home, also known as the Cherry Capital of the World. So fitting, because when you think of Coco, I'm sure that's exactly what you think of - Life, Liberty, Beaches and Pie.

Here's the cherry pie that my aunt made with Traverse City cherries. They were from Uncle Timothy's orchards, so you know they were fo' free. And the local cherry wine that we drank with it. Yum.

One of the bottles of win was from the National Cherry Festival. Did I mention that there was a festival? With a Cherry Queen? And Cherry Princesses? I thought not.

Fashion & Family, Traverse City-Styley

Dudes, I'm back from Traverse City, and I will never be the same. I went for the Heritage Foundation Fashion Show that featured clothes from my great-great-grandmother and other relatives. It took place in the Opera House that my ancestors helped build, it was emcee'd by my fantastic Uncle Timothy, and it was cool as hell to see these models wearing vintage clothes against a backdrop of my ancestors decked out in the same gear.

For extremely obvious reasons, it was especially gratifying to yours truly when they busted out a pair of my great-aunt's panties. Ruffled.

It was a weekend of non-stop history, fashion, and eating (lest you forget, it's always about the food). I loved it. And, as it turns out, I'm related to practically everyone in town.

Other highlights:

- The freakin' amazing architecture of this teeny little town. Some architects have moved there and created cool modern eco-house, which somehow fit in well with the classic barns and farmhouses.

- Fluffy white cherry orchards and rolling green farmland surrounded on both sides by blue, blue water.

- Tea at my Uncle Timothy's house, on one of the old family farms, for which he busted out the Limoges.

- Eating lunch in the mental institution where my grandparents met.*

- The State Theater, a vintage movie house that Mr. Michael Moore has updated to HD and turned into a venue for a world-class film festival.

- All the food you can grow here: Cherries, blueberries, mushrooms, milk, cheese, grapes for wine, and every vegetable you can think of. You could eat entirely locally.

More Michigan tales to come, but in general, I have one over-arching thought: I love being from this place.


*I promise neither was an inmate. In true form, the building is now being turned into a chi-chi residence area, with apartments above and food/wine/art/cafes on the ground floor. We ate this amazing meal with all locally grown ingredients from area farms. Word.

Fashion & Family, Part II - More Pix

You're So Not Ready For Traverse City

And neither am I. This is what I'm doing this weekend:

"Grand Traverse Heritage Center presents A Vintage Fashion Show & Chocolate Decadence Buffet, 2-4 p.m., featuring the Norma Wilhelm Carroll collection, $20, benefits GT Heritage Center, reservations; City Opera House, 106 E. Front, Traverse City, MI; 995-0313."

Why am I going? Because Norma Wilhelm Carroll is my grandma's sister, and my Uncle Timothy, who used to be the head of the Peace Corps in Russia and Poland and is now a gentleman farmer, found a trunk of her old clothes in the attic and donated 'em to the ladies of the Heritage Center. The togs are from the 1800s and 1900s, the fashion show is going to take place in the City Opera House, which my family apparently helped build, and there's gonna be old photos of my relatives wearing these clothes as the backdrop to the show. Then we're gonna go to Uncle Timothy's and have prune kolach and tea.

Dudes...how does it get any better than this? Family history, vintage fashion, Northern Michigan...I'm almost speechless at this upcoming gold mine of Dirt. And guess who's gonna get it fo' free? That's right. You.