Sigalerts for the Soul

What causes traffic on what should otherwise be an empty freeway at 11 pm?  I'll tell you what: asshats.  And also, CalTrans.

The 405 freeway is one of the single most congested piece of road in all of Southern California.  That's because it's the main artery on the entire westside of Los Angeles, and connects everyone to the Republican stronghold behind the Orange Curtain.  This is also known as Irvine.  Which houses an amphitheater at which I saw every single band that mattered between 1995 and 2002, except of course for STP.  It's also where the 405 dies and merges back into the main interstate. 

All that to say that in west LA, where the 10 and 405 make babies, there shouldn't be any fucking traffic in the middle of the goddamn night.  Except that there was.  Tonight.  Because of construction.  Which sucked.  And that's the only reason I'm still up at midnight when I should be in bed because I have another late night tomorrow with a man I adore and another that is my ex-pretend boyfriend.  Maybe one day, or night, when I'm not so irritated, I'll fill you in on what that means.  Otherwise, you can meet me at the House of Blues tomorrow and all will be well.


As the World Shakes

My boss and I were in the middle of a serious discussion about candidates we were considering hiring when all of a sudden it sounded like really fat people were walking on the floor above us.  Then things started falling off the walls.  That's when it was time to get in the doorway. 

Earthquakes are always fun.  My flawed philosophy is that each little one staves off the "big one" that much longer.  They release the tension and keep it from building up and turning California into an island.

It was really funny watching the people who had never experienced one get that panic-stricken look trying to figure out what to do.  Us natives forget that they didn't grow up learning to get under their desks in those drills at school. 

It was rad that it happened just before lunch.  Even radder that my catered luncheon showed up right on time as if nothing had happened.  I just wish someone else could have cleaned up my office for me.  Damn earthquake, messing up my feng shui!


On the Tip of My Brain

At the gym the other day I half-heard a song over the whirring of the treadmills that I remembered liking when it was a hit.  It's a 90s song and the band sounds like something between Big Audio Dynamite and SR-71, or between The Toadies and Tripping Daisy.  With a nasally kind of lead singer...I spent a good amount of time going through the KROQ 90s list and listening to a bunch of songs on iTunes, but I gots nothing.

The one line I remember clearly is "I can't live without her."  That's it.  I know for damn sure it's not Beer by Reel Big Fish, though that's what Google wants me to believe.

It's really upbeat.  I thought the line before it was "she don't think she needs me," but Google doesn't like that either.  So help a girl out.  Does anyone know what I'm talking about?


Overheard in the Family #18

This weekend was my nephew's first birthday party.  The little cousins ranging in ages from 7 months to 9 years gathered to celebrate.  My pregnant cousin's four year old angel of a son had this to say to the daddy of the birthday boy (retold to me later):

Angel: So when are you going to give him a sister?

Baby Brother: Um, not for a long time.

Angel: I'm going to have one soon.  When she gets here I can sell her to you.  I'm not going to want her around.  All she's going to do is cry.

I fell over laughing when I heard this.  He's four year's old!  And already trying to get rid of his unborn sibling.  Wow.


Two Things #5

1. Something is eating me alive.  First this, and then today, little vampire bites on my chest.  I'm in the middle of a meeting with our CFO when I realize that I have itchies and it's from two pricks on my chest.  I got home and realized there are four more on the bottom of my left foot.  For fuck's sake!

2. I finally joined Facebook.  And I hate myself.  It's my alumni association's fault.  They're using this to keep everyone in touch.  Why they can't use the website they created expressly for that purpose is beyond me.  Can't we all be adults and stick to Linked In instead?


Cultural Identity Crisis

Last week, a guy who will remain nameless because he probably made a racist joke he'd rather you not know about, and I had a drink together.  Or, I had 4 and he had...I don't know how many.  Then I had sex with a Persian.  Who, to be fair, bought me tequila.

Today, I interviewed a girl who asked told me I looked really familiar.  She asked me if I had a sister named something I can't remember...I asked her if this girl was Persian.  The answer was yes.

I have a profile floating around the internets where the last question is "You'd never guess..." Which I answered "not Persian."

I love me some Persians.  Seriously, see the first paragraph.  But for the record, I is not one.  Thank you for playing.


Overheard at Geisha House

Remember this game?  You gotta be a bit careful when you play it in the presence of gorgeous men.

GPG: Ooh.  *gestures over towards the manager* That guy's on my team.

A Certain Man: Huh?

GPG: It's a game we play.  Whenever you see a hot guy, you claim him to your team before your friends do.

ACM: Am I on your team?

GPG: Sweetheart, you're my team captain!

No matter how old or hot they are, they all need their egos stroked.


Overheard in the Family #17

My mom is a do-gooder.  I'm considering dating running again.

GPG: A certain man wants us to run a half-marathon together in October.  I think it's a little soon for that.

Dad: He needs your legs to run his marathon?

Mom: I want to do the walk for Alzheimer's.

Dad: You want to walk with the Old Timers?

Mom: I think it's a cause I could get behind.

Dad: If you're going to run with a bunch of Old Timers, you need to put them on a string.

Mom: Your father will be the head Old Timer.

Dad: Depending on their ages, I might have to bring up the rear.

They're nuts, I tell you!


The Circus Comes Back Around

Working in the center of downtown Los Angeles means that on any given day, a rally at City Hall or a film crew in the middle of the street can impact business.  We get notices on a weekly basis for street closures or other activities that might affect our commute.

Sometimes these are worthy causes and/or fun events.  Like a marathon to raise money for charity or a Madonna concert at Staples Center.  But sometimes, they're bullshit.  Like the media advisory that came last week:

Spears v. Federline Hearing Continued
Tomorrow’s Spears v. Federline status conference is continued to 8:30 a.m. Friday, July 18, Stanley Mosk Courthouse, 111 N. Hill St. Los Angeles 90012.

# #

This was pretty much a press release to the papparazi.  We got a hold of it because our people deal with the courts and they might want to know about the insanity taking place there.  Brilliant, don't you think?


Inspiration Found

Last night I was atttended a charity fundraiser.  The kind with a red carpet and black ties.  These types of events in the middle of the week always strike me as funny.  Don't normal people have to work?  I certainly do.

But I found myself sitting next to a husband-wife team of photographers.  So successful in their endeavors that they were honored with an award during the ceremony.  Yet, they were the most unassuming, down to earth people you can imagine.

We chatted about our work and I lamented the fact that my personal albatross was the current 44 women.  And that it had been three full years since I started it.  The wife told me that these things can last 10 years, but the important part was in the process.  And that once it was done, she had a friend with a gallery where I should hold my show.

They were truly the awesomest people I met all night. 

She's inspired to shoot again.  It's always great when you can talk shop with people who get it.  And she was no amateur.  Her credentials include the Los Angeles Times and Washington Post.  So for her to take an interest in little ol' me was like a dream come true.

Who knows, you might get another photo blog out of me just yet!


Being Eaten Alive

I woke up with 7 bug bites all over my body.  This is clearly a sign of the impending apocalypse. 

At least none of them were on my face.  Dating and the red carpet fundraiser I have to go to this week would be doubly difficult.

Fucking vampire bugs.


Legal Tethers

On July 1st, the law in California changed.  Upon penalty of death and/or imprisonment in the black hole of Gitmo, you can no longer talk with a phone to your head while driving.  You CAN dial and/or text with the phone in your hand while driving, thereby taking your eyes off the road, but you CANNOT watch the road and have the phone to your head at the same time.

Lawyers write these things...

I have a bluetooth headset.  It sucks.  So I went looking for a corded solution.

The first place I went to was Radio Shack.  The sales guy was clearly enjoying the benefits of required sales, and his eyes lit up when I said I needed an earpiece for my Blackberry.  Because now he could upsell me on all sorts of gadgets, I'm sure.  Imagine his disappointment when I told him I already had one.  He then turned sullen--like a child, with a pout and all--and told me they were sold out of the others.  Then he stopped talking to me and stomped away.

I kid you not.  He threw a tantrum because I didn't want a wireless earpiece.  It was amazing. 


The Lights Are On...?

I was most disgusted with the human public today. Because the human public is STUPID.  Case in point:

I hurt my back.  Again.  I decided it best to swim a few laps at my gym.  The problem was that I didn't know if there were any aqua classes or lazing hordes of old people to avoid.  So I called.

The girl on the phone just could not tell me when the busiest/slowest pool times were.  I had to ask her three different ways.  I even made a comparison to the other gym I used to go to on the westside, telling her that the old people would gather in the mornings, but by mid-afternoon I could usually get a decent, unobstructed swim up and down a lane.  She told me all about the depth of the pool, the number of lanes, how there was a jaccuzi, and how they didn't have any water classes, but if I wanted one, I should contact such-and-such and tell them.

Finally, she said she had to get a fitness instructor because she didn't check the pool, despite the fact that it has a glass wall that she looked through to tell me that there were currently people swimming.  I waited about 30 seconds before considering hanging up, then the instructor got on.  She sounded equally as bright as the first girl.

When I asked her what the peak time for pool activity was, she answered with "what do you mean?"  My bad for using words that are too big for her little brain.  I was finally able to get that 11-3 were the slowest times over the weekend.  That only took about 6 minutes of my morning.

I tried again as I was leaving the gym, hoping it was a different girl at the front than the one who answered the phone.  No such luck.  She tried to get me to contact the same such-and-such to get classes added.  I kept repeating that I didn't want classes, I wanted to just be able to swim whenever the gym was open.  She finally got that through her little head, but not before she'd written the email address down for me.  And she was clearly disappointed.

Kids, this is what happens if you don't go to college.


Too Fast for a U-turn

Time is speeding up.  I kid you not.  We've discussed how it's already July and that should really be illegal.  When did we blink and make June disappear?  It's like a bad episode of I Dream of Jeannie.  Which, for the uninitiated, was about astronauts and genies.

Also, it's already Thursday.  I didn't ask for it to already be THURSDAY.  Just yesterday it was Monday and I had the whole week to figure out my next move.  Now it's Thursday and deadlines are looming and I just don't know.

I hate this new fast time mode.  When can we slow it down again?


Overheard in the Golden Mall

The Krazy Mommy, as the Queen of Suburban Agrestic, is also a member of a country club.  Apparently the women there pay handsomely for their accessories.

KM: All the women there have fake boobs.  And some are soooooooooooo badly done.

GPG: Well, if you're going to pay for it, might as well get your money's worth!  Go big!!

KM: It looks so bad.  And you want to be walking around looking like that?  Clearly fake?

GPG: Unless you're a porn star.  Are they making porn out there in Agrestic?

KM: Ugh. I don't care if a woman has fake tits, but at least make them look real!  

And then a man walking by said, "I agree."  Random, and yet funny all the same.


Overheard in the Family #16

The long weekend is slowly coming to an end.  Too bad.  But at least my dad made this observation:

Dad: I saw this woman who was dressed like a teenager.  She had on a tight shirt that showed her stomach and then a mini skirt.  She was too old for that.  And she had two kids with her.

GPG: Was she trying to recapture her youth?

Dad: And then I saw her husband pushing a stoller with yet another kid in it.  And he had a mohawk!  45 years old, when is he going to grow up?  What he hell?  Did the world end and they made all new people?

Oh my dad.  The traditionalist.  But seriously, would you take your father seriously if he had a mohawk?


I'm a Giver

It's Thursday, and my first day of vacation, so why am I up at 6:30?  The entire purpose of vacations are to sleep in late and ignore the real world.  I got good and drunk last night so that would guarantee a late morning in bed.  But then I decided I wanted to go to the gym at 8:30 and fouled up my entire plan.

I'm really my own worst enemy. 

With all this extra free time, I decided to go through my Linked In contacts to help a friend get a job in SF.  But as soon as I fired up the internets, lo and behold, broken testicle stories!  And since we hate the baseball here at Exxy HQ, what better way to start the morning than sharing it with all of you?



Worker Bee Horror Stories

A few weeks ago, I had a small luncheon at one of my usual hotels. Only about 100 people. I was there the day before for a meeting, after which I decided to chat with the catering director about what yummies we were serving at the event.

Except there was no meal, no menu, no info whatsoever. Because the event wasn't on their calendar.

Cue a freakout.

This had never happened to me. Usually my contracts are in order months ahead of time. This was just crazy fluke that was mercifully resolved within 5 simple minutes. I never even really got to panic because the catering director's first reaction was "not a problem."

Thank god there wasn't some event that sold all of the hotel space that week. Then I would have been seriously fucked.

And not in a good way.

Hopefully that never happens again.

June by the Numbers

It's July. Time just keeps passing me by. It's quite freaky. I didn't realize the kids are already out of school. Hey, does anyone remember what a summer vacation is like?

6 inches chopped off during hair surgery
10 days spent enjoying the fabulousness of short hair
2 weekends with my baby brother
27 years of age celebrated
5 pictures snapped of us girls on the red carpet
2.5 hours noshing from the sushi and chocolate stations
1 evening with visiting English solicitors
2 hours of jokes about American politicians
2 days spent at the LA Convention Center
3 hours before my feet started hurting on the first day
10 more spent on my feet
420 dinner guests
3 feds
45 minutes spent playfully locking horns with one
1 lesson on drinking whiskey
50 paperclips collected before abandoning the paperclip jump rope idea
2 employees quit
10 weeks left to hire their replacements
94 minutes spent as a fugitive in San Diego County
168 dollars in bail
2 hours of Scott Weiland looking like a chemo patient
69 rows from the stage
2 semi prophetic dreams
1 phone call from a certain man, confirming he'll be here in just a few days
113 minutes wasted on the disastrously flawed Bloodline documentary
110 minutes enjoying the adorably funny Get Smart
116 minutes with Black Snake Moan in the background
1 job found in Geneva
1 year to relearn French...and Spanish