I came home from work yesterday to find out that my sisters and mothers had gone through a preliminary guest list for me. It wasn't on paper, but everytime I mentioned someone, one of them said, "Yep, we thought of them."
Chris and I haven't discussed it but I am pretty sure that our wedding will be smaller than larger. This gets tricky with so many cousins on my end but after a preliminary count, my side will be 80 people. The breakdown is about 30 relatives, 12 friends of the family, and 30+ friends.
The only person from my dad's side of the family will be his sister and whoever drives her to the wedding. The only person from my maternal grandfather's side of the family will be my cousin Goyo, whom I lived with for a month in Guadalajara in 2008. The rest are my aunts, their kids and spouses, my maternal grandmother's brother and his guest/my cousin, and my cousin Diane's family. I hope my dad isn't offended by the lack of representation of his side of the family but he knows I'm closer to my mom's side.
Thinking of friends to invite was pretty clear. There are my go-to gal pals, a couple of junior high and high school friends, a few former co-workers, anyone whose wedding I've been in or attended in the last five years, and basically, the people I call and talk to most. As I've gotten older I've realized that there are fewer people I call with my problems or good news. Basically, if I wouldn't call them when I'm down they're not on the list.
I told the last of my co-workers about my engagement today. Everyone was very nice about it. My superviser got married not too long ago and was especially happy to share her wedding know-how. The reporter that sits next to me, Jay, even asked to see my ring. He said, "So sparkley!" My ring is actually too big for my finger and falls to the side all the time. Must get to that and also promise myself to get it cleaned every six months so that my lifetime warrantly will be valid.
I've never owned any fine jewelry. I would have never worn something this nice in Argentina or Mexico. Call me paranoid but I don't want to give anyone a reason to rob me. Women wear bling all the time. It needs some getting used to. I stare at the ring a lot. My first diamond! What a man. What good taste. I love him.
Other good news... I spoke with my boss yesterday and he said I was being considered for a permanent position. It might happen but he wasn't guaranteeing anything. The worst thing is that the position will most likely require a Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday. Yikes. That sounds awful. I won't poo-poo it until a) I am offered the job, b) I see the salary, and c) I can commit to a crazy schedule. We'll see. The good news is that they like me enough to consider me for full-time work. I wasn't sure that was the case and now have to put my best foot forward in January for the new owners of the paper. I can also keep looking for positions elsewhere. Yay to 2010! Ass-kicking time.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Engaging daily
I might have taken "Julie & Julia" too seriously because I'm going to blog about my engagement and wedding with the hopes someone turns it into a book. Yes, I'm engaged. Chris proposed to me on Christmas Eve in front of my whole family. It was ballsy and brave and sweet and wonderful. I said yes and it's on.
Sooooo, in the hopes of getting a book deal that will secure my future, I'm going to write about the wedding. It's the only thing people want to talk to me about anyway so why not? Seriously, it's as if life before the engagement ceased to exist and now I'm in weddinglandia. I've been advised to enjoy it and will my best to.
I had actually hoped that Chris would propose during the holidays. He did and now I look like the good guy, not the person who was going to pressure him about it in the new year.
So many thoughts have gone through my head these past days. The fact that my sleeping around days are over. That I've picked a partner who will make a great dad. That I love Chris' politeness and dorkiness and thoughtfulness. That I never thought I'd end up with someone like him: He's a straight arrow for the most part. He didn't sleep around. He hasn't taken drugs. He's not a stoner.
The fact that I'm taking the plunge in my late '30s is also a game changer. I'm not a giddy bride-to-be, giggling and telling everyone I can think of about the news. I've been spreading the news slowing, making sure I actually speak to my friends/family to tell them, not leave a message or send a text. I had been trying to tell a friend about the engagement for days but every time I called her, she returned the call with a text message. Then she asked me why it took me so long to tell her. Uh, it wouldn't have if she had actually picked up the phone to call.
Neither my mother nor Chris' mother was excited about the news. My mother was not smiling when the rest of the family was going wild during the proposal. Was it shock? Disapproval? Same with Chris' mom. He announced the news right after we had taken our seats for Christmas dinner. It was Chris, his sister, his mother, and his mother's roommate and no one got out of their seats after hearing the news. No one got up to hug me. It was like, "That's great. Can you pass the butter?" Later in car Chris said his mother was happy, she just didn't show it. I can't complain, my mother was the same way.
Our fathers were much more vocal about their excitement/approval. My dad was happy and congratulatory. His father and stepmother had him call me as soon as they heard. That was nice. They were excited and offered to assist us in wedding planning in any way possible.
Sooooo, in the hopes of getting a book deal that will secure my future, I'm going to write about the wedding. It's the only thing people want to talk to me about anyway so why not? Seriously, it's as if life before the engagement ceased to exist and now I'm in weddinglandia. I've been advised to enjoy it and will my best to.
I had actually hoped that Chris would propose during the holidays. He did and now I look like the good guy, not the person who was going to pressure him about it in the new year.
So many thoughts have gone through my head these past days. The fact that my sleeping around days are over. That I've picked a partner who will make a great dad. That I love Chris' politeness and dorkiness and thoughtfulness. That I never thought I'd end up with someone like him: He's a straight arrow for the most part. He didn't sleep around. He hasn't taken drugs. He's not a stoner.
The fact that I'm taking the plunge in my late '30s is also a game changer. I'm not a giddy bride-to-be, giggling and telling everyone I can think of about the news. I've been spreading the news slowing, making sure I actually speak to my friends/family to tell them, not leave a message or send a text. I had been trying to tell a friend about the engagement for days but every time I called her, she returned the call with a text message. Then she asked me why it took me so long to tell her. Uh, it wouldn't have if she had actually picked up the phone to call.
Neither my mother nor Chris' mother was excited about the news. My mother was not smiling when the rest of the family was going wild during the proposal. Was it shock? Disapproval? Same with Chris' mom. He announced the news right after we had taken our seats for Christmas dinner. It was Chris, his sister, his mother, and his mother's roommate and no one got out of their seats after hearing the news. No one got up to hug me. It was like, "That's great. Can you pass the butter?" Later in car Chris said his mother was happy, she just didn't show it. I can't complain, my mother was the same way.
Our fathers were much more vocal about their excitement/approval. My dad was happy and congratulatory. His father and stepmother had him call me as soon as they heard. That was nice. They were excited and offered to assist us in wedding planning in any way possible.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
What do you do when you're good at nothing?
Ah, I was so spirited in my last post. I'm still excited about Poptimist, which should be on streets now, but I am not excited about the job I did on the December issue.
I gave it my all: editing stories, giving feedback, getting stories rewritten. I even wrote up a band myself -- San Diego's Tape Deck Mountain. (This was less of an exercise in writing than it was a way of making my budget. I decided I could up writer's rate if I wrote a 200-word article and two album reviews myself.)
I devoted nights after work, my Fridays off, and weekends to the project once all the stories were turned in. I read and reread the copy, changing punctuation here, checking spelling there.
Last Sunday I sat with the publisher for four hours as we made last-minute changes. The artist she had contracted wasn't working out so there was a lot of last-minute scrambling. She sent the final version to me an hour before it went to the printer. All the last-minute changes produced some errors, which I was quite proud of catching on my final read-through.
This all went to pot on Sunday. I had been out from morning to evening throwing a friend's baby shower and was horrified to see this email from our publisher awaiting me at home: "the concert listings all say 'November.' "
What?!!! Where?!!!
I scrambled to the print-outs I had gone through for the issue. The error wasn't on our club picks pages, it wasn't on our live picks pages, whew. Oh, but there it was, on the club listings pages. Clear as day it said "November" on the top of the page instead of December. It said "November" four different times.
I had poured over these listings many times. I changed dates, spellings, punctuation but apparently never looked up at the header. Oy!
This drops our publication from awesome to amateur and it's my fault. The buck stops here. I am paid to catch these kinds of errors. I take pride in catching these types of errors.
So for the last couple of days I have been blue. I am earning a living right now as a copyeditor yet I didn't catch what is now an obvious mistake. So if I'm not a good copyeditor or a good writer, what exactly am I good at? How can I sell myself as either when this keeps haunting me?
I dread seeing the magazine now.
I gave it my all: editing stories, giving feedback, getting stories rewritten. I even wrote up a band myself -- San Diego's Tape Deck Mountain. (This was less of an exercise in writing than it was a way of making my budget. I decided I could up writer's rate if I wrote a 200-word article and two album reviews myself.)
I devoted nights after work, my Fridays off, and weekends to the project once all the stories were turned in. I read and reread the copy, changing punctuation here, checking spelling there.
Last Sunday I sat with the publisher for four hours as we made last-minute changes. The artist she had contracted wasn't working out so there was a lot of last-minute scrambling. She sent the final version to me an hour before it went to the printer. All the last-minute changes produced some errors, which I was quite proud of catching on my final read-through.
This all went to pot on Sunday. I had been out from morning to evening throwing a friend's baby shower and was horrified to see this email from our publisher awaiting me at home: "the concert listings all say 'November.' "
What?!!! Where?!!!
I scrambled to the print-outs I had gone through for the issue. The error wasn't on our club picks pages, it wasn't on our live picks pages, whew. Oh, but there it was, on the club listings pages. Clear as day it said "November" on the top of the page instead of December. It said "November" four different times.
I had poured over these listings many times. I changed dates, spellings, punctuation but apparently never looked up at the header. Oy!
This drops our publication from awesome to amateur and it's my fault. The buck stops here. I am paid to catch these kinds of errors. I take pride in catching these types of errors.
So for the last couple of days I have been blue. I am earning a living right now as a copyeditor yet I didn't catch what is now an obvious mistake. So if I'm not a good copyeditor or a good writer, what exactly am I good at? How can I sell myself as either when this keeps haunting me?
I dread seeing the magazine now.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Introducing Poptimist!
I am the editor of L.A.'s newest music magazine, Poptimist. Electronic copy here: http://issuu.com/poptimist/docs/november
It's a labor of love and gets the creative juices flowing again. It's my first time as a magazine editor and I am digging it. We'll be out again in December. It's available for free in L.A.'s hipster spots -- record stores, Rudy's Barber Shop, boutiques, coffee shops, etc.
It's a labor of love and gets the creative juices flowing again. It's my first time as a magazine editor and I am digging it. We'll be out again in December. It's available for free in L.A.'s hipster spots -- record stores, Rudy's Barber Shop, boutiques, coffee shops, etc.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
iPod shuffle -- don't buy it!
I recently purchased the newest generation of the iPod shuffle. My original shuffle disappeared between the gym and my house one day and I really like it for working out so I bit the bullet and shelled out $59 (plus tax) for the latest one on the market.
I hated it.
True to advertising, it is a bitty little thing. Thinner and longer than the square one I had, and free engraving was included with purchase. Well, my "Sofia" personalized gadget is going back this week.
The shuffle's deal-breaker is that besides the off/on button, the navigation controls are all on a slim clicker attached to the headphones. The clicker hangs at about chin level and is a pain in the ass to use. You can't use any other headphones for this shuffle because the commands are built in to the headphones. Terrible idea.
The good news is that Macintosh has good customer service and is taking back my iPod shuffle free of charge. They're even paying for Fed-Ex. I'll now wait until the shuffle charge is cleared on my credit card and then start searching for a used, previous generation shuffle.
I hated it.
True to advertising, it is a bitty little thing. Thinner and longer than the square one I had, and free engraving was included with purchase. Well, my "Sofia" personalized gadget is going back this week.
The shuffle's deal-breaker is that besides the off/on button, the navigation controls are all on a slim clicker attached to the headphones. The clicker hangs at about chin level and is a pain in the ass to use. You can't use any other headphones for this shuffle because the commands are built in to the headphones. Terrible idea.
The good news is that Macintosh has good customer service and is taking back my iPod shuffle free of charge. They're even paying for Fed-Ex. I'll now wait until the shuffle charge is cleared on my credit card and then start searching for a used, previous generation shuffle.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Crenshaw Blvd., it's where I'm at
A look at the Sigalert website before leaving work indicated that all freeways home were jammed. Accident here, slow there....so I decided I'd take Crenshaw Blvd. as far as it would take me. The commute home is an hour no matter how I drive so I was fairly certain this wouldn't lengthen the trip by too much.
South down Crenshaw it was. It's a rough commute approaching the 10 and past Rodeo, but once you clear Martin Luther King Blvd. it's smooth sailing. And it's pretty too. Trees line the street all the way through Leimart Park and when you drive through Inglewood, there's a pretty center divider with sculpted trees.
It was an especially clear afternoon and I wish I could remember which cross street had this beautiful view. Sadly, the landscape turns into a nightmare south of the 105. It's crazy what a difference there is north and south of the freeway. Ugly power lines as far as the eye could see once past the freeway at which point, I cut my cruise short and took the 105 to the 110 south. I made it home in an hour. So instead of the usual gridlock, I saw something different today.
On another note, I went karaoke-ing for the first time in ages last night. Chris and I had dinner with his friend Peter from college and some other people, including Shumway and Marc. They wanted to get drinks afterwards but it was heavy metal night at the password-protected M Bar (R Bar?) and we voted to change venues. I suggested the Brass Monkey because we had driven by it earlier that night and we had the best time!
We arrived between 8 and 9 and were one of the first groups there. This was cool because we were called up to sing quickly. Chris and I started with Weezer's "Buddy Holly." Chris played a mean air guitar during the song. Next came "Seven Nation Army," which was lots of fun. I'll totally do the White Stripes again. The drinks flowed and we got progressively worse. The low point was our rendition of "Sabatoge." Marc, Chris and I were screaming into the microphones and jumping all over the place. The ending "Whhhhyyyy??!!" cry was super fun to sing but I'm sure it was no fun to listen to. Good times. Our evening ended with a "Love Today" quartet. The crowd was not into that song. That reaction was disappointing but the evening was such an unexpected good time that I did not care.
Our bikes were stolen from Chris's garage sometime during the evening too. City living.
South down Crenshaw it was. It's a rough commute approaching the 10 and past Rodeo, but once you clear Martin Luther King Blvd. it's smooth sailing. And it's pretty too. Trees line the street all the way through Leimart Park and when you drive through Inglewood, there's a pretty center divider with sculpted trees.
It was an especially clear afternoon and I wish I could remember which cross street had this beautiful view. Sadly, the landscape turns into a nightmare south of the 105. It's crazy what a difference there is north and south of the freeway. Ugly power lines as far as the eye could see once past the freeway at which point, I cut my cruise short and took the 105 to the 110 south. I made it home in an hour. So instead of the usual gridlock, I saw something different today.
On another note, I went karaoke-ing for the first time in ages last night. Chris and I had dinner with his friend Peter from college and some other people, including Shumway and Marc. They wanted to get drinks afterwards but it was heavy metal night at the password-protected M Bar (R Bar?) and we voted to change venues. I suggested the Brass Monkey because we had driven by it earlier that night and we had the best time!
We arrived between 8 and 9 and were one of the first groups there. This was cool because we were called up to sing quickly. Chris and I started with Weezer's "Buddy Holly." Chris played a mean air guitar during the song. Next came "Seven Nation Army," which was lots of fun. I'll totally do the White Stripes again. The drinks flowed and we got progressively worse. The low point was our rendition of "Sabatoge." Marc, Chris and I were screaming into the microphones and jumping all over the place. The ending "Whhhhyyyy??!!" cry was super fun to sing but I'm sure it was no fun to listen to. Good times. Our evening ended with a "Love Today" quartet. The crowd was not into that song. That reaction was disappointing but the evening was such an unexpected good time that I did not care.
Our bikes were stolen from Chris's garage sometime during the evening too. City living.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Built to Spill at Sunset Junction -- Aug. 23, 2009
Built To Spill shows can be hit or miss. I've seen them in full-on rock/guitar god mode (Troubadour, July 2007) and I've also experienced their long-winded, super mellow jammy appearances (House of Blues, sometime in the early or mid 2000s). Which band would show up for Sunset Junction? Could Doug Martsch and his players overcome the overcrowding, heat, and notoriously bad sound that is synonamous with the street fair? Or would I have to resort to my plan B and drive down to Santa Ana to see them Tuesday night in a proper venue?
The show was slated to start at 7:50 but by the time we got there around 7:40, the band was already soundchecking. I was super thankful for this as a bad mix would spell disaster for their layers of guitars. That soundcheck morphed into their first jam of the night. I don't know if they were playing a proper song but it went on for a bit. The stage lights were eventually turned on and just like that, we were in the midst of the show.
I didn't recognize the first few songs that the band played. Maybe they were off the upcoming album or from discs I didn't own, I'm not sure. But when the hits started, it was on. There was "Car," "Big Dipper," "Sidewalk," "You Were Right." Off the "You in Reverse" album came a blistering "Goin' Against Your Mind" and the haunting "Traces." There were other songs I recognized and jumped around to but don't know the names of. I wasn't exactly in the state of mind to keep a set list but I do know that they played an unbelievably rocking version of "The Plan" and that their encore song went more than 15 minutes on one song and kept us wanting more.
If I had to be critical, I'd say Doug's voice isn't as strong as it used to be: He'd stop singing lyrics during songs and fall back on guitar. It didn't matter. Save your voice Doug, the music is enough. There was also a miscommunication between band members during a song in which one guitarist was ready to launch into jam mode and the others were still doing the refrain. Minor points.
As technically fantastic as they are on their instruments, Built to Spill's members barely move during the show. Martsch says a simple "thanks" after a song and it's on to the next. It's not to say they're not engaging, just they are quite serious about the task at hand. You try playing guitars as fast and furiously as they do in unison. Doug even commented, "It may not look like it but we're having fun."
Another aspect to the band is that it is no sweat for them to play 20-minute songs. Open a window to a jam and they'll take it. But these are jams in a much different sense than the Grateful Dead. It's not about one guy doing a solo and the next guy doing a solo and the drummer taking over before the next guy does a solo. From what I've seen, there is a purpose to Built To Spill's jamming. There is a beginning, middle, and end. We may not be able to distinguish it, but all parts are playing together without showboating. There's nothing quite like being pulled back into a melody after getting lost on a musical tangent.
The band's proficiency, the cool California breeze, the small-ish crowd that allowed us to get comfortably close to the stage, and most importantly, the music, added up to a jamtastic L.A. appearance.
p.s. I highly recommend listening to Built To Spill's live album from 2000 to get a taste of their live shows. The version of "Car" on that album is great as is "Virginia Reel Around the Fountain," Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer" and the 19-minute version of "Broken Chairs."
The show was slated to start at 7:50 but by the time we got there around 7:40, the band was already soundchecking. I was super thankful for this as a bad mix would spell disaster for their layers of guitars. That soundcheck morphed into their first jam of the night. I don't know if they were playing a proper song but it went on for a bit. The stage lights were eventually turned on and just like that, we were in the midst of the show.
I didn't recognize the first few songs that the band played. Maybe they were off the upcoming album or from discs I didn't own, I'm not sure. But when the hits started, it was on. There was "Car," "Big Dipper," "Sidewalk," "You Were Right." Off the "You in Reverse" album came a blistering "Goin' Against Your Mind" and the haunting "Traces." There were other songs I recognized and jumped around to but don't know the names of. I wasn't exactly in the state of mind to keep a set list but I do know that they played an unbelievably rocking version of "The Plan" and that their encore song went more than 15 minutes on one song and kept us wanting more.
If I had to be critical, I'd say Doug's voice isn't as strong as it used to be: He'd stop singing lyrics during songs and fall back on guitar. It didn't matter. Save your voice Doug, the music is enough. There was also a miscommunication between band members during a song in which one guitarist was ready to launch into jam mode and the others were still doing the refrain. Minor points.
As technically fantastic as they are on their instruments, Built to Spill's members barely move during the show. Martsch says a simple "thanks" after a song and it's on to the next. It's not to say they're not engaging, just they are quite serious about the task at hand. You try playing guitars as fast and furiously as they do in unison. Doug even commented, "It may not look like it but we're having fun."
Another aspect to the band is that it is no sweat for them to play 20-minute songs. Open a window to a jam and they'll take it. But these are jams in a much different sense than the Grateful Dead. It's not about one guy doing a solo and the next guy doing a solo and the drummer taking over before the next guy does a solo. From what I've seen, there is a purpose to Built To Spill's jamming. There is a beginning, middle, and end. We may not be able to distinguish it, but all parts are playing together without showboating. There's nothing quite like being pulled back into a melody after getting lost on a musical tangent.
The band's proficiency, the cool California breeze, the small-ish crowd that allowed us to get comfortably close to the stage, and most importantly, the music, added up to a jamtastic L.A. appearance.
p.s. I highly recommend listening to Built To Spill's live album from 2000 to get a taste of their live shows. The version of "Car" on that album is great as is "Virginia Reel Around the Fountain," Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer" and the 19-minute version of "Broken Chairs."
Friday, August 14, 2009
Museum pet peeve
Recently returned from a week-long trip to New York City. Chris and I were there for a wedding and squeezed in lots of touristing.
I had been to NY many times before but this was the first time I went to MoMa and the Met. These are the major leagues of museums. We don't have anything comparable in L.A. Maybe the Getty, but it doesn't have the quantity of big hitters that its NY counterparts do.
MoMa was absolutely mind-blowing. Art's greatest hits, if you will. You turn a corner and bam! There's Picasso's "Three Musicians." Or Jasper John's "American Flag." Or Matisse's dancers. There was a room of Mexican art too with the real pieces of work I had only seen as prints growing up. The place is so packed with top works that Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World" was relegated to a hallway leading to the restrooms! I might have missed it had nature not have called.
There used to be an etiquette in museums that allowed people time in front of a work before they moved on or moved back for a fuller view. This was not the case at MoMa or the Met. I was constantly peeved by the heavy presence of cameras and their owners who, in essence, take stills of stills. In some cases, they even take video of stills, which is ridiculous considering the pieces are inanimate objects 99 percent of the tim.
People would pose for pictures in front of pieces, throw you looks if you walked into their photos; snap at you to get out of the frame.
Excuse me but the whole point of shelling out $20 for a museum is to experience the art. The art that's hanging right in front of you. The art that a photo couldn't possibly capture.
These people need to stop ruining the experience for those of us who understand that seeing the work in person outweighs ever seeing it duplicated in any form, even the digital one.
I had been to NY many times before but this was the first time I went to MoMa and the Met. These are the major leagues of museums. We don't have anything comparable in L.A. Maybe the Getty, but it doesn't have the quantity of big hitters that its NY counterparts do.
MoMa was absolutely mind-blowing. Art's greatest hits, if you will. You turn a corner and bam! There's Picasso's "Three Musicians." Or Jasper John's "American Flag." Or Matisse's dancers. There was a room of Mexican art too with the real pieces of work I had only seen as prints growing up. The place is so packed with top works that Andrew Wyeth's "Christina's World" was relegated to a hallway leading to the restrooms! I might have missed it had nature not have called.
There used to be an etiquette in museums that allowed people time in front of a work before they moved on or moved back for a fuller view. This was not the case at MoMa or the Met. I was constantly peeved by the heavy presence of cameras and their owners who, in essence, take stills of stills. In some cases, they even take video of stills, which is ridiculous considering the pieces are inanimate objects 99 percent of the tim.
People would pose for pictures in front of pieces, throw you looks if you walked into their photos; snap at you to get out of the frame.
Excuse me but the whole point of shelling out $20 for a museum is to experience the art. The art that's hanging right in front of you. The art that a photo couldn't possibly capture.
These people need to stop ruining the experience for those of us who understand that seeing the work in person outweighs ever seeing it duplicated in any form, even the digital one.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
The squeaky wheel
I spent a lot of Sunday day doing everything but filling out the paperwork for my wage claim. I made myself do it, finally, and took all the documentation to work with me on Monday so I could file the claim at local Claims office. That was Monday a.m. Around mid-morning, my supervisor (who I had complained to for an hour the previous week) i.m.'d me that my payments had gone through. Our i.m. conversation was still going on while I checked my bank account and voila! I was $3000 richer.
The dogs -- withhold payment until you're threatened with legal action.
My supervisor also told me that they're keeping me on the "0" payment plan which means my payroll goes through immediately. That's nice. In the end, all I wanted was to get paid. I was thiiiiiis close to calling the State in on it but I that was threat enough to see some action. So when something is not right with your employers, do your homework and threaten to blow the whistle on them. If no action is taken, do it.
I'm going to pass my story along to my fellow temps. They need to know they can negotiate their way out of it as well.
The dogs -- withhold payment until you're threatened with legal action.
My supervisor also told me that they're keeping me on the "0" payment plan which means my payroll goes through immediately. That's nice. In the end, all I wanted was to get paid. I was thiiiiiis close to calling the State in on it but I that was threat enough to see some action. So when something is not right with your employers, do your homework and threaten to blow the whistle on them. If no action is taken, do it.
I'm going to pass my story along to my fellow temps. They need to know they can negotiate their way out of it as well.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
inversion paperwork
I finally filled out all the paperwork for my wage claim today. It wasn't that difficult but somehow I kept putting it off. It's been more than 30 days since my last paycheck and that's motivation. Now to get it to the office closest to work and the ball will finally be rolling! I told my supervisor at work that I was filing a claim and she's been investigating my payroll. I feel bad for her because it's not her fault but she'll undoubtedly hear it from high above if this thing actually gets investigated.
I did my first exercise in two weeks today. I've been afraid of re-injuring my back so I've laid low and haven't done much of anything. It was so beautiful today and I had so much time on my hand that I just had to get out. My mom and I went over to my sister's place in Manhattan Beach and she visited while I took a bike ride. I went slowly and not that far but the ride lasted 45 minutes and I worked up a sweat.
The best part of it all was using my brother-in-law's inversion table afterwards. You hook you feet into it like on a sit-up bench and then you just lean backwards. It's a strange feeling. You feel like you're going to flip over. But you don't and your spine gets straightened out. It's awesome! My sister Lilia tried it but screamed whenever she started to go back. Some people can't handle the sensation.
Spent much of today trolling for Wilco tix. I am so cheap. Didn't buy them in the first place because I objected to the $12 fees added to each ticket. The first show is tomorrow night and I still don't have anything. I am not worried. I bet people start unloading tix in a big way tomorrow.
I did my first exercise in two weeks today. I've been afraid of re-injuring my back so I've laid low and haven't done much of anything. It was so beautiful today and I had so much time on my hand that I just had to get out. My mom and I went over to my sister's place in Manhattan Beach and she visited while I took a bike ride. I went slowly and not that far but the ride lasted 45 minutes and I worked up a sweat.
The best part of it all was using my brother-in-law's inversion table afterwards. You hook you feet into it like on a sit-up bench and then you just lean backwards. It's a strange feeling. You feel like you're going to flip over. But you don't and your spine gets straightened out. It's awesome! My sister Lilia tried it but screamed whenever she started to go back. Some people can't handle the sensation.
Spent much of today trolling for Wilco tix. I am so cheap. Didn't buy them in the first place because I objected to the $12 fees added to each ticket. The first show is tomorrow night and I still don't have anything. I am not worried. I bet people start unloading tix in a big way tomorrow.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
And so it begins...
I sometimes am more of a doer than a sayer, so I will put this in writing: I am going to bust my company for withholding payment from all us temps. Met with an HR person Friday (thanks for the intro Peter!) who said all sorts of lines were being crossed as far as my employee status/situation goes and I have a strong case to present to the California labor board. I am going for it!
Tomorrow I will ask our HR person to define my employment (am I a temporary employee, freelancer, independent contractor?). With that info, I go to the labor dept. and break down what has been happening to me at the company. Why even though I am treated like a temporary employee (have a desk, set hours, etc.), I am treated like an independent contractor (paid with 1099, no benefits, etc.) Most importantly, I will detail the fact that the company is withholding paychecks from me because of some rule I was only told about two weeks ago.
This might turn into something big or nothing at all but I will keep tabs here.
Tomorrow I will ask our HR person to define my employment (am I a temporary employee, freelancer, independent contractor?). With that info, I go to the labor dept. and break down what has been happening to me at the company. Why even though I am treated like a temporary employee (have a desk, set hours, etc.), I am treated like an independent contractor (paid with 1099, no benefits, etc.) Most importantly, I will detail the fact that the company is withholding paychecks from me because of some rule I was only told about two weeks ago.
This might turn into something big or nothing at all but I will keep tabs here.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
ouch!
Backs sure are important. They are taken for granted until something goes terribly wrong, which is what happened to me this past Saturday.
After a morning yoga class, some cleaning, and washing my car, I reached down to throw something away and was thrown to the floor by a shooting pain in my back. I was down for the count. Couldn't stand or move that much. Spent the rest of the day on the coach but even that was painful because I couldn't turn or move on my own.
I was so immobile that when my cousin Felipe came over to show himself before he went to the prom, I couldn't even peek out the window to see him. Poor guy had to come inside where I was. (He looked sharp, but I don't know how he's going to feel about that white pinstriped tux in 20 years).
All my social plans were out the window so Chris came over to watch a movie ("All About Eve")with me. Thank goodness for that because he was able to lift me and then hold me from behind so I could get around the house.
I made some progress the next day but was still a hunchback. Called in sick Monday because the spasms were still happening.
I went into work today. No one noticed my condition until I walked. Though I feel straight, my entire upper torso is leaning to the right. I wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't glanced at myself in the full length bathroom mirror. Frightening.
I am hoping to straighten out these next few days. Don't know when I'll be back in yoga or on the treadmill. I will take is slowly 'cause I don't want to aggravate the condition. Just when I was doing sit-ups regularly too! I guess my flat tummy will have to wait until 1020.
After a morning yoga class, some cleaning, and washing my car, I reached down to throw something away and was thrown to the floor by a shooting pain in my back. I was down for the count. Couldn't stand or move that much. Spent the rest of the day on the coach but even that was painful because I couldn't turn or move on my own.
I was so immobile that when my cousin Felipe came over to show himself before he went to the prom, I couldn't even peek out the window to see him. Poor guy had to come inside where I was. (He looked sharp, but I don't know how he's going to feel about that white pinstriped tux in 20 years).
All my social plans were out the window so Chris came over to watch a movie ("All About Eve")with me. Thank goodness for that because he was able to lift me and then hold me from behind so I could get around the house.
I made some progress the next day but was still a hunchback. Called in sick Monday because the spasms were still happening.
I went into work today. No one noticed my condition until I walked. Though I feel straight, my entire upper torso is leaning to the right. I wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't glanced at myself in the full length bathroom mirror. Frightening.
I am hoping to straighten out these next few days. Don't know when I'll be back in yoga or on the treadmill. I will take is slowly 'cause I don't want to aggravate the condition. Just when I was doing sit-ups regularly too! I guess my flat tummy will have to wait until 1020.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The three percent rule
The man is sticking it to me again.
A couple of weeks ago, my department head told me that Nielsen Media, parent company of The Hollywood Reporter, was instituting a "three percent" policy for all freelancers, contractors and temporary employees like me. This means that the company has up to 75 days to pay an invoice. There is an option to have payment expedited but it's not pretty -- they take three percent fee off the invoice total.
My supervisor said the policy hadn't been used on all freelancers yet, so I was waiting to see if they skipped over me (maybe I was grandfathered in because I'd been there so long). However, the guy who sits in front of me and has been "consulting" since October just found out his check is taking the slow boat to his banking account. Even with his consent to take three percent out, they tell him it'll take at least 15 days to process payment. And get this, payment is processed out of India.
Nielsen outsources IT to India and their payroll too. It's a crazy system. If a printer needs a new printer cartridge, you file a help ticket that is picked up and supposedly resolved in India. Instead of an office manager-type replacing the cartridge in-house, someone in India gets the ball rolling on the problem and typically takes days to reply or solve the issue. It took two weeks to replace a printer cartridge. This said, I am not holding my breath about any payment issues.
When asked which option I'd prefer, I said I'd take the 75 days instead of the three percent cut. It's the principle. Why should I give up money for something that is as easy as an electronic transfer into my bank account? How can the company charge me a fee to pay me? Is this even legal? It's one thing to call someone an independent contractor who works remotely and completes tasks independently; it's another thing when that person has to be in the office at set hours with the same pressures and responsibilites as regular employees.
I've never seen this policy in writing , nor have I signed off on it. I'm going to ask to see it in writing and then refuse. My days at the Reporter are numbered anyway, with an intern coming in this month to do a lot of what I've been doing, so I might as well take a stand.
A couple of weeks ago, my department head told me that Nielsen Media, parent company of The Hollywood Reporter, was instituting a "three percent" policy for all freelancers, contractors and temporary employees like me. This means that the company has up to 75 days to pay an invoice. There is an option to have payment expedited but it's not pretty -- they take three percent fee off the invoice total.
My supervisor said the policy hadn't been used on all freelancers yet, so I was waiting to see if they skipped over me (maybe I was grandfathered in because I'd been there so long). However, the guy who sits in front of me and has been "consulting" since October just found out his check is taking the slow boat to his banking account. Even with his consent to take three percent out, they tell him it'll take at least 15 days to process payment. And get this, payment is processed out of India.
Nielsen outsources IT to India and their payroll too. It's a crazy system. If a printer needs a new printer cartridge, you file a help ticket that is picked up and supposedly resolved in India. Instead of an office manager-type replacing the cartridge in-house, someone in India gets the ball rolling on the problem and typically takes days to reply or solve the issue. It took two weeks to replace a printer cartridge. This said, I am not holding my breath about any payment issues.
When asked which option I'd prefer, I said I'd take the 75 days instead of the three percent cut. It's the principle. Why should I give up money for something that is as easy as an electronic transfer into my bank account? How can the company charge me a fee to pay me? Is this even legal? It's one thing to call someone an independent contractor who works remotely and completes tasks independently; it's another thing when that person has to be in the office at set hours with the same pressures and responsibilites as regular employees.
I've never seen this policy in writing , nor have I signed off on it. I'm going to ask to see it in writing and then refuse. My days at the Reporter are numbered anyway, with an intern coming in this month to do a lot of what I've been doing, so I might as well take a stand.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Grrrr
I have officially lost my favorite rings. I tried not getting too worried about the fact that I couldn't find them but after searching every purse, pant, and jacket pocket I have, it is time to admit the sad truth.
The rings weren't valuable -- I probably spent $40 on them total -- but they were sentimental faves. One was from Kathmandu and the other was from my most recent trip to Taxco, Mexico. It's the Kathmandu one that hurts the most. I loved that ring. Big and silver with pressed bead-like things.
The rings are the latest in a trend of losing things. I lost, um, a "special" chocolate bar sometime during Coachella weekend and can't find a red coral necklace that travelled with me last year. There are green glass earrings missing too, and a pair of khaki cords. I have no idea where these things went. I had all of these things except for the cords when I came back from Mexico last year.
Losing things depresses me too because it emphasizes my transitory nature. I live with my mom, sure, but I'm at my boyfriend's on the weekends and am constantly packing and unpacking, packing and unpacking. I pack work clothes if it's a school night; hiking shoes and clothes if it's a weekend; workout clothes if it's the day I work out. It's no wonder I lose things with all the packing and unpacking, packing and unpacking.
Grrrrrrr.
The rings weren't valuable -- I probably spent $40 on them total -- but they were sentimental faves. One was from Kathmandu and the other was from my most recent trip to Taxco, Mexico. It's the Kathmandu one that hurts the most. I loved that ring. Big and silver with pressed bead-like things.
The rings are the latest in a trend of losing things. I lost, um, a "special" chocolate bar sometime during Coachella weekend and can't find a red coral necklace that travelled with me last year. There are green glass earrings missing too, and a pair of khaki cords. I have no idea where these things went. I had all of these things except for the cords when I came back from Mexico last year.
Losing things depresses me too because it emphasizes my transitory nature. I live with my mom, sure, but I'm at my boyfriend's on the weekends and am constantly packing and unpacking, packing and unpacking. I pack work clothes if it's a school night; hiking shoes and clothes if it's a weekend; workout clothes if it's the day I work out. It's no wonder I lose things with all the packing and unpacking, packing and unpacking.
Grrrrrrr.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Festival of Books
Ever been to the L.A. Times Festival of Books? It's held annually at UCLA and is truly impressive. Tents set up across the campus offer everything from free K'orans to live music to speakers like Tori Spelling (she wrote a book!), a massive food court and mini bookstores.
Besides the enormity of the event, the most striking thing about it is that it is packed. It took a good 20-30 minutes to get to campus from the Sunset exit of the 405 (and here I thought everyone would be approaching it from Wilshire.) This was at 10:30 in the morning too. The popularity of the event really becomes evident once you're on campus. There are thousands of people there. People lining up at the Ray Bradbury booth; people waiting in line to shop in a specialized bookstore; people munching on food while listening to speakers talk about cooking. But because these are readers, the vibe is mostly laid back and friendly.
I went to the Festival to see a college classmate, Gene Healy, speak on a panel. Gene works at the Cato Institute and wrote "The Cult of the Presidency," a book about how the office of the President has gotten too powerful. His panel was called "Irreconcilable Differences? The Future of Power and Partisanship." Matt Miller of NPR's "Left, Right, and Center" moderated. The other panelists were Farai Chideya, Mickey Kaus and Lawrence O’Donnell. I didn't recognize any of their names but apparantly other people did because the auditorium was pretty full. The topic was a little heady for me at the 11 o'clock hour but Gene opened it on an entertaining and informative note and the hour went by quickly.
I caught up with Gene as he was headed to his book signing table. It had been YEARS since I'd seen him but he was still the same 'ol guy. He's always been a Libertarian and now makes a living being a Libertarian. Cool! He didn't think many people were going to ask for his signature so he spent about 15 minutes at the signing booth before deciding it was time for an afternoon cocktail. (Before we took off, I picked up a free copy of Lawrence O'Donnell's book "Deadly Force: A True Story of How a Badge Can Become a License to Kill." After asking about my politics and rambling a bit, he signed it "Thanks for listening.")
The closest place I could think of to take Gene that wasn't a pain to get to from the north side of campus was the Hotel Bel-Air. It really is a great, albeit expensive, spot. All of the tables on the patio were taken or reserved when we arrived so we decided to have lunch in the dark dark bar. (When I say dark, I mean "your-eyes-need-to-adjust-to-the-sunlight-after-coming-out-of-a-movie-theater dark.) It was awkward for a minute in the empty room but the libations kept the conversation lively. It was nice seeing Gene and I am glad I made the effort to get to UCLA when it wasn't exactly convenient. I mean, how many times do I know someone on a panel at the book fest?
Besides the enormity of the event, the most striking thing about it is that it is packed. It took a good 20-30 minutes to get to campus from the Sunset exit of the 405 (and here I thought everyone would be approaching it from Wilshire.) This was at 10:30 in the morning too. The popularity of the event really becomes evident once you're on campus. There are thousands of people there. People lining up at the Ray Bradbury booth; people waiting in line to shop in a specialized bookstore; people munching on food while listening to speakers talk about cooking. But because these are readers, the vibe is mostly laid back and friendly.
I went to the Festival to see a college classmate, Gene Healy, speak on a panel. Gene works at the Cato Institute and wrote "The Cult of the Presidency," a book about how the office of the President has gotten too powerful. His panel was called "Irreconcilable Differences? The Future of Power and Partisanship." Matt Miller of NPR's "Left, Right, and Center" moderated. The other panelists were Farai Chideya, Mickey Kaus and Lawrence O’Donnell. I didn't recognize any of their names but apparantly other people did because the auditorium was pretty full. The topic was a little heady for me at the 11 o'clock hour but Gene opened it on an entertaining and informative note and the hour went by quickly.
I caught up with Gene as he was headed to his book signing table. It had been YEARS since I'd seen him but he was still the same 'ol guy. He's always been a Libertarian and now makes a living being a Libertarian. Cool! He didn't think many people were going to ask for his signature so he spent about 15 minutes at the signing booth before deciding it was time for an afternoon cocktail. (Before we took off, I picked up a free copy of Lawrence O'Donnell's book "Deadly Force: A True Story of How a Badge Can Become a License to Kill." After asking about my politics and rambling a bit, he signed it "Thanks for listening.")
The closest place I could think of to take Gene that wasn't a pain to get to from the north side of campus was the Hotel Bel-Air. It really is a great, albeit expensive, spot. All of the tables on the patio were taken or reserved when we arrived so we decided to have lunch in the dark dark bar. (When I say dark, I mean "your-eyes-need-to-adjust-to-the-sunlight-after-coming-out-of-a-movie-theater dark.) It was awkward for a minute in the empty room but the libations kept the conversation lively. It was nice seeing Gene and I am glad I made the effort to get to UCLA when it wasn't exactly convenient. I mean, how many times do I know someone on a panel at the book fest?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Coachella
The beauty of Coachella is that everyone experiences it differently. Whether you drank too much or the sun got to you or you were stuck in traffic that got you grouchy -- all of those things figure into the final equation. Where you were standing for a certain band, which acts you saw, which ones you didn't see -- those things count too.
Coachella for me this year was a four day affair. Drove out to Indio Thursday night with Rhonda and came back Monday afternoon with Chris. We went to the shows Friday and Sunday and kicked it by the pool at a friend's Palm Springs rental on Saturday (had a lovely dinner in downtown Palm Springs that night too).
There's really only two ways to attack the festival: either go early and burn out around sunset or wait out the sun and whoop it up for the late afternoon/evening acts. This was the first year in a long time that I went to the show early and departed early and that was mostly due to my company and the line-up.
So here is my own review of Coachella 2009:
FRIDAY, APRIL 17
Molotov (Outdoor Stage) -- My favorite Mexican band played in the middle of the day facing the scorching sun on what I think is the best stage at Coachella. No sweat for these Mexicanos. They rocked reliable hits like "Puto" and "Give Me the Power" and made a few converts, I'm sure. The party vibe was in full force and they played their punk and metal songs ferociously. There was a bit of a sound problem that bothered me throughout the set but it didn't ruin the performance, thankfully.
Los Campesinos! (Gobi Tent) -- I only managed to catch a couple of songs from this seven-member outfit (all of whom changed their last names to Campesinos) but man, were they good. They have a high energy Arcade Fire-like full sound with the lead singer playing the xylophone. Got to see them perform "You! Me! Dancing!" and was impressed. At one point the lead singer jumped into the crowd to sing and two other band members crowd surfed to close the show. Awesome! The ladies in the band were cute, well-dressed and had nice voices.
The Black Keys (Main stage) -- Wanted to see the Ting Tings in the Sahara Tent but they were running late and we had the Black Keys on the mind. This duo rocked as expected, though I wasn't as captivated as I thought I was going to be. I think it was because we were far away from the main stage and came in after they'd built momentum.
N.A.S.A. (Mojave tent) -- This two-man DJ gets high marks for presentation. They had a nice "NASA" sign on their turntable platform and better yet, had female dancers covered entirely in green body paint. Some of the beats were catchy but they lacked consistency. I'd be into a song and then not interested in the next. They brought robots on stage too, so like I said, they get an "A" for performance/presentation.
Ghostland Observatory (Sahara tent)-- I remember being impressed by this band and now can't really remember what they sounded like. It was electronica dance music, I believe. I remember being impressed that two guys could produce so much sound. I kept referring to them as DJs and my friend Audrey would keep reminding me that they were actually a band. Worth checking out again.
Morrissey -- (Main stage) Ahhhh, Morrissey. What can I say? He was grouchy, choking on "burning flesh" and still has a great voice. His band was rocking even though he hardly ever moved to the rhythm. The drama of his performance and general prissy-ness didn't bother me at all -- an avid vegetarian, he kept complaining about the smell of cooking meat. He actually gagged at certain points. I had never seen him before so it was theatrical and fine for me. Ana said it was one of the worst performances she's seen him do. Apparantly, we were lucky he didn't walk off stage. He canceled his show the next night. Must still have been choking on hot dog fumes. Seeing him rip his shirt off was entertaining too.
Paul McCartney, aka Sir Paul, Macca, the Mac (Main stage) -- I am a Beatles fan, therefore I am a Paul McCartney fan. Got excited as soon as strains of his music started up on the P.A. I gotta give McCartney credit, first off, for playing such good remixes of his songs before the show started. Seriously, there were some dancable, jams. He started the show with the Wings' tune "Jet" and the first Beatles tune of the night, "Drive My Car."
I thought the next couple of songs were so-so until he played the '70s jam, "Let Me Roll It." Goddamn, that is a great song! I had never heard it before that night. Great guitar licks, a catchy chorus -- even reluctant Rhonda, who didn't really want to see Paul, shouted out her props for that tune. It's a Wings song and I am going to buy a live version of it somewhere.
We had all petered out by that time and headed for the hills. The last song I heard was "The Long and Winding Road," which is not my favorite. Had we stuck around one song later, we would have heard Paul make his emotional speech about the anniversary of Linda McCartney's death and her love of the desert. From what I've heard, the concert really kicked in after that.
Oh well, I've accepted that you can't do it all at Coachella and now I have to see Sir Paul some other time.
SUNDAY, APRIL 19
No Age (Mojave tent) -- Started the day super early to catch L.A. alternative rockers No Age. They opened with their "hit," "Teen Creeps." No Age sounds like a Matador band from the '90s with their off-key singing and love of the noise/feedback. I was surprised that so many people turned out for their show at such an early hour (1:45 with the temperature rising). I missed the last couple of songs but my boyfriend says the guitarist busted open a pinata with his guitar. Now that's entertainment!
Lupe Fiasco (Main stage) -- Lupe Fiasco was one of the most pleasant surprises of the festival. He had lots of energy and reminded the crowd that festivals are supposed to be festive! I had no idea what he sounded like and was suprised that he was a rapper. His beats were solid and catchy and his co-rapper was on fire on the "Go Go Go" song. I could never rap that fast! Matt something came on to sing a couple of songs and hit all his high notes with ease. I can see why he gets radio play and think he can get much, much bigger. There were some sound problems at the beginning of his set but they were fixed. He closed the set with a sped up version of "Superstar" that was fantastic. Chris recognized a few other of his tunes. I also liked that people were dancing and singing along to Lupe. It was a nice vibe. Anyone who sings about skateboarding is okay with me too.
K'Naan (Gobi tent) -- Another pleasant surprise. This was the most intimate, relaxed show I saw all weekend. Just a good rapper with political and positive things to share. His spoken word/rap about Somalia and his need to spread the word about his homeland was really touching. K'Naan also played some dancable, solid beats.
Murder City Devils (Mojave tent) -- Met up with a couple of friends during this show. Can't say the hard rock/punk music was up my alley but they were giving it their all. The lead singer sang with the mic IN his mouth and you don't see that every day. Another "A" for effort but not really my cup of tea.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Main stage) -- It took a while for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to warm up. I was wowed by them when they opened for the White Stripes years ago but wasn't that impressed this time. There was also the fact that the sun was really beating down on us at this point and I couldn't see the stage. People were closing in tight on me and I couldn't take it at one point. Had to move out of the crowd. The sun eventually hid behind the hills and all was better. They played the dancey first two tracks off their new album well -- I think they were into this material more than their older stuff. They could have been better for sure.
My Bloody Valentine, or, My Bloody Eardrums (Main stage) -- I was fading by the time My Bloody Valentine took the stage. Their ear-splitting feedback didn't help matters either. What can I say? I didn't like them. It was LOUD. When they did play melodies it was nice but for the most part is was like a Sonic Youth concert gone bad. I couldn't take it and spread out on the grass for most of the set. We left towards the end of the set and could still hear what Chris described as their "airplane" drone everywhere we went.
Public Enemy (Outdoor stage) -- Awh yeah. Public Enemy was just about the polar opposide of My Bloody Valentine. I could understand the lyrics. I didn't have to wear earplugs. They played with a band and did the album "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back." Flava Flav was pretty energetic for a guy his age but I got tired of his "we are the best, we are Public Enemy" rantings. Chuck D has an awesome voice and told the crowd to question authority. Right on! We left after "Don't Believe the Hype" because I was fighting a losing battle against tiredness by that point. But at least I got to see them.
Other thoughts:
Coachella for me this year was a four day affair. Drove out to Indio Thursday night with Rhonda and came back Monday afternoon with Chris. We went to the shows Friday and Sunday and kicked it by the pool at a friend's Palm Springs rental on Saturday (had a lovely dinner in downtown Palm Springs that night too).
There's really only two ways to attack the festival: either go early and burn out around sunset or wait out the sun and whoop it up for the late afternoon/evening acts. This was the first year in a long time that I went to the show early and departed early and that was mostly due to my company and the line-up.
So here is my own review of Coachella 2009:
FRIDAY, APRIL 17
Molotov (Outdoor Stage) -- My favorite Mexican band played in the middle of the day facing the scorching sun on what I think is the best stage at Coachella. No sweat for these Mexicanos. They rocked reliable hits like "Puto" and "Give Me the Power" and made a few converts, I'm sure. The party vibe was in full force and they played their punk and metal songs ferociously. There was a bit of a sound problem that bothered me throughout the set but it didn't ruin the performance, thankfully.
Los Campesinos! (Gobi Tent) -- I only managed to catch a couple of songs from this seven-member outfit (all of whom changed their last names to Campesinos) but man, were they good. They have a high energy Arcade Fire-like full sound with the lead singer playing the xylophone. Got to see them perform "You! Me! Dancing!" and was impressed. At one point the lead singer jumped into the crowd to sing and two other band members crowd surfed to close the show. Awesome! The ladies in the band were cute, well-dressed and had nice voices.
The Black Keys (Main stage) -- Wanted to see the Ting Tings in the Sahara Tent but they were running late and we had the Black Keys on the mind. This duo rocked as expected, though I wasn't as captivated as I thought I was going to be. I think it was because we were far away from the main stage and came in after they'd built momentum.
N.A.S.A. (Mojave tent) -- This two-man DJ gets high marks for presentation. They had a nice "NASA" sign on their turntable platform and better yet, had female dancers covered entirely in green body paint. Some of the beats were catchy but they lacked consistency. I'd be into a song and then not interested in the next. They brought robots on stage too, so like I said, they get an "A" for performance/presentation.
Ghostland Observatory (Sahara tent)-- I remember being impressed by this band and now can't really remember what they sounded like. It was electronica dance music, I believe. I remember being impressed that two guys could produce so much sound. I kept referring to them as DJs and my friend Audrey would keep reminding me that they were actually a band. Worth checking out again.
Morrissey -- (Main stage) Ahhhh, Morrissey. What can I say? He was grouchy, choking on "burning flesh" and still has a great voice. His band was rocking even though he hardly ever moved to the rhythm. The drama of his performance and general prissy-ness didn't bother me at all -- an avid vegetarian, he kept complaining about the smell of cooking meat. He actually gagged at certain points. I had never seen him before so it was theatrical and fine for me. Ana said it was one of the worst performances she's seen him do. Apparantly, we were lucky he didn't walk off stage. He canceled his show the next night. Must still have been choking on hot dog fumes. Seeing him rip his shirt off was entertaining too.
Paul McCartney, aka Sir Paul, Macca, the Mac (Main stage) -- I am a Beatles fan, therefore I am a Paul McCartney fan. Got excited as soon as strains of his music started up on the P.A. I gotta give McCartney credit, first off, for playing such good remixes of his songs before the show started. Seriously, there were some dancable, jams. He started the show with the Wings' tune "Jet" and the first Beatles tune of the night, "Drive My Car."
I thought the next couple of songs were so-so until he played the '70s jam, "Let Me Roll It." Goddamn, that is a great song! I had never heard it before that night. Great guitar licks, a catchy chorus -- even reluctant Rhonda, who didn't really want to see Paul, shouted out her props for that tune. It's a Wings song and I am going to buy a live version of it somewhere.
We had all petered out by that time and headed for the hills. The last song I heard was "The Long and Winding Road," which is not my favorite. Had we stuck around one song later, we would have heard Paul make his emotional speech about the anniversary of Linda McCartney's death and her love of the desert. From what I've heard, the concert really kicked in after that.
Oh well, I've accepted that you can't do it all at Coachella and now I have to see Sir Paul some other time.
SUNDAY, APRIL 19
No Age (Mojave tent) -- Started the day super early to catch L.A. alternative rockers No Age. They opened with their "hit," "Teen Creeps." No Age sounds like a Matador band from the '90s with their off-key singing and love of the noise/feedback. I was surprised that so many people turned out for their show at such an early hour (1:45 with the temperature rising). I missed the last couple of songs but my boyfriend says the guitarist busted open a pinata with his guitar. Now that's entertainment!
Lupe Fiasco (Main stage) -- Lupe Fiasco was one of the most pleasant surprises of the festival. He had lots of energy and reminded the crowd that festivals are supposed to be festive! I had no idea what he sounded like and was suprised that he was a rapper. His beats were solid and catchy and his co-rapper was on fire on the "Go Go Go" song. I could never rap that fast! Matt something came on to sing a couple of songs and hit all his high notes with ease. I can see why he gets radio play and think he can get much, much bigger. There were some sound problems at the beginning of his set but they were fixed. He closed the set with a sped up version of "Superstar" that was fantastic. Chris recognized a few other of his tunes. I also liked that people were dancing and singing along to Lupe. It was a nice vibe. Anyone who sings about skateboarding is okay with me too.
K'Naan (Gobi tent) -- Another pleasant surprise. This was the most intimate, relaxed show I saw all weekend. Just a good rapper with political and positive things to share. His spoken word/rap about Somalia and his need to spread the word about his homeland was really touching. K'Naan also played some dancable, solid beats.
Murder City Devils (Mojave tent) -- Met up with a couple of friends during this show. Can't say the hard rock/punk music was up my alley but they were giving it their all. The lead singer sang with the mic IN his mouth and you don't see that every day. Another "A" for effort but not really my cup of tea.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs (Main stage) -- It took a while for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs to warm up. I was wowed by them when they opened for the White Stripes years ago but wasn't that impressed this time. There was also the fact that the sun was really beating down on us at this point and I couldn't see the stage. People were closing in tight on me and I couldn't take it at one point. Had to move out of the crowd. The sun eventually hid behind the hills and all was better. They played the dancey first two tracks off their new album well -- I think they were into this material more than their older stuff. They could have been better for sure.
My Bloody Valentine, or, My Bloody Eardrums (Main stage) -- I was fading by the time My Bloody Valentine took the stage. Their ear-splitting feedback didn't help matters either. What can I say? I didn't like them. It was LOUD. When they did play melodies it was nice but for the most part is was like a Sonic Youth concert gone bad. I couldn't take it and spread out on the grass for most of the set. We left towards the end of the set and could still hear what Chris described as their "airplane" drone everywhere we went.
Public Enemy (Outdoor stage) -- Awh yeah. Public Enemy was just about the polar opposide of My Bloody Valentine. I could understand the lyrics. I didn't have to wear earplugs. They played with a band and did the album "It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back." Flava Flav was pretty energetic for a guy his age but I got tired of his "we are the best, we are Public Enemy" rantings. Chuck D has an awesome voice and told the crowd to question authority. Right on! We left after "Don't Believe the Hype" because I was fighting a losing battle against tiredness by that point. But at least I got to see them.
Other thoughts:
- I am sorry I didn't see Paul Weller play before Public Enemy. I read his set got cut short. Not cool.
- For some reason, I wasn't into the dance acts this year. Some of the electronica I heard made me downright agitated.
- Caught three songs of Perry Farrell and he was solid. A true entertainer, that one.
- The Do-Lab in the middle of the field was awesome. There were good DJs playing there all day and you can't argue with any spot that has misting machines and mist machine guns. It was an oasis.
- Coachella really is a great festival. It is super organized and the crowd is fantastic. Sure, there are your drunk frat boys and burn-outs but for the most part, it is full of people just wanting to hear good, and sometimes new, music. Kudos.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Of Wedding Bells and Brewballs
The South is a nice place to visit. Living there is a different animal -- especially if you're black, I'm sure -- but for a long weekender like me, it is fab. The occasion for my trip this past weekend was the wedding of my friend Karen and her man James. She grew up in Gibsonville, North Carolina so that's where she tied the knot.
Going in, I knew I wouldn't know too many people. I can't really say I "know know" the groom and I am not part of Karen's tight circle of New Orleans homies. I was traveling with my friend Nicole but she was shooting the wedding events and wouldn't be around much. So I was left to my own devices much of the time.
We came in late Thursday night and attended a bridesmaid luncheon on Friday. Nicole had things to do so I hit the road in our roomy Chrysler Sebring in search of a jogging trail. There's nature all around in the South but I didn't spy anyone running along the roads so I followed a hunch and set out for Mackintosh Lake. To my disappointment, there were not any trails at the entrance I tried first. There was a Revolutionary War monument though. My map showed another park entrance and there I hit the jackpot: a one or three-mile loop through the woods and along a lakeside trail. It was a nice run and I dilly-dallied the rest of the afternoon, driving around, seeing the landscape; admiring the wackiness of the person who painted a giant Mickey Mouse on his/her barn.
I was ready to call it a night by the time Nicole came back from wedding rehearsals and dinner but I was talked into socializing at a hotel room with others. It was there that I tasted a delicious, sweet, empanada-shaped pastry that one of Karen's friends imported from New Orleans. It was also there that I was talked into exploring Burlington's nightlife with Karen's L.A. friend Joe, the groom's nephew Mark, and the matron of honor's husband Steve. Nicole went with us to the first bar and for some reason I was perfectly fine sipping on water and being the DD while the men got ripped.
Before we even made it to the bar, Burlington had something special in store for us. Our Best Western was on a slope, and from the parking lot, you could hear the sound of a loudspeaker and hum of a crowd. Turns out that the Chik-fil-a down the hill was giving away 100 vouchers guaranteeing a meal a week from the restaurant. People were CAMPED OUT for this. They rushed the venue at the blow of a whistle and were still in their tents by the time we hit our second destination, Brewballs.
Nicole bowed out of Part II of our Burlington adventure, leaving me and the men: Steve is an attorney in New Orleans and like all good Southerners, could hold his liquor and spin a mean yarn; Mark is from Florida and is only five years younger than James, making him more of a cousin or brother than a nephew -- he too, was a talker; Joe was Karen's landlord for a long time and lived in the main house while she set up show in the "clubhouse." I've been in Joe's presence many times but had my first conversations with him during the weekend.
We couldn't have picked a better destination than Brewballs. It was a well-worn honkytonk that required you to be a "member" to enter. Steve had scoped the place out earlier so we walked in as his guests, and as the doorman said, as obvious out-of-towners. We set up downstairs where two older men played country tunes to a drum machine accompanyment. We alternated between pool and darts, with Steve proving himself to be a pool hustler and Mark entertaining me with his dart tricks. He could hit the dart board left handed; or under his leg; or, my favorite, backwards and upside-down through his legs. Awesome!
The wedding was at a picturesque little church. The groom sobbed as the bride walked down the aisle. It was moving and beautiful. The reception was held at a pretty community center in a senior citizen complex. The band was solid and the party really got started after James sang Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Rock" with the band. You know, "It's been a long time since I rock and rolled....It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time."
Going in, I knew I wouldn't know too many people. I can't really say I "know know" the groom and I am not part of Karen's tight circle of New Orleans homies. I was traveling with my friend Nicole but she was shooting the wedding events and wouldn't be around much. So I was left to my own devices much of the time.
We came in late Thursday night and attended a bridesmaid luncheon on Friday. Nicole had things to do so I hit the road in our roomy Chrysler Sebring in search of a jogging trail. There's nature all around in the South but I didn't spy anyone running along the roads so I followed a hunch and set out for Mackintosh Lake. To my disappointment, there were not any trails at the entrance I tried first. There was a Revolutionary War monument though. My map showed another park entrance and there I hit the jackpot: a one or three-mile loop through the woods and along a lakeside trail. It was a nice run and I dilly-dallied the rest of the afternoon, driving around, seeing the landscape; admiring the wackiness of the person who painted a giant Mickey Mouse on his/her barn.
I was ready to call it a night by the time Nicole came back from wedding rehearsals and dinner but I was talked into socializing at a hotel room with others. It was there that I tasted a delicious, sweet, empanada-shaped pastry that one of Karen's friends imported from New Orleans. It was also there that I was talked into exploring Burlington's nightlife with Karen's L.A. friend Joe, the groom's nephew Mark, and the matron of honor's husband Steve. Nicole went with us to the first bar and for some reason I was perfectly fine sipping on water and being the DD while the men got ripped.
Before we even made it to the bar, Burlington had something special in store for us. Our Best Western was on a slope, and from the parking lot, you could hear the sound of a loudspeaker and hum of a crowd. Turns out that the Chik-fil-a down the hill was giving away 100 vouchers guaranteeing a meal a week from the restaurant. People were CAMPED OUT for this. They rushed the venue at the blow of a whistle and were still in their tents by the time we hit our second destination, Brewballs.
Nicole bowed out of Part II of our Burlington adventure, leaving me and the men: Steve is an attorney in New Orleans and like all good Southerners, could hold his liquor and spin a mean yarn; Mark is from Florida and is only five years younger than James, making him more of a cousin or brother than a nephew -- he too, was a talker; Joe was Karen's landlord for a long time and lived in the main house while she set up show in the "clubhouse." I've been in Joe's presence many times but had my first conversations with him during the weekend.
We couldn't have picked a better destination than Brewballs. It was a well-worn honkytonk that required you to be a "member" to enter. Steve had scoped the place out earlier so we walked in as his guests, and as the doorman said, as obvious out-of-towners. We set up downstairs where two older men played country tunes to a drum machine accompanyment. We alternated between pool and darts, with Steve proving himself to be a pool hustler and Mark entertaining me with his dart tricks. He could hit the dart board left handed; or under his leg; or, my favorite, backwards and upside-down through his legs. Awesome!
The wedding was at a picturesque little church. The groom sobbed as the bride walked down the aisle. It was moving and beautiful. The reception was held at a pretty community center in a senior citizen complex. The band was solid and the party really got started after James sang Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Rock" with the band. You know, "It's been a long time since I rock and rolled....It's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time."
And it was a lovely time too.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Writing on the Wall
The writing is on the wall: the Hollywood Reporter is not looking to hire me. Yes, they are keeping me on through May but there's talk about hiring other temps and not having the budget for anyone at my level. There is a temp position opening in May for an online editor so if you know anyone with this kind of experience, let me know.
I've had a nice week. Yesterday I picked up a pair of Prada slacks for $40 at my favorite designer resale store. Didn't even have to hem them! They were made for me. Stopped by the store on my way to dinner at El Cholo in Santa Monica. Was meeting a bunch of ladies for a little catch up. Great group of gals and afterwards, Annie Harrington Orci said she had a bunch of clothes she was giving to charity in her trunk. Three of us pounced on her stuff and I walked away with two nice work tops, a pair of J. Crew shorts, workout pants, and a heating pad. Awesome! I even wore my new slacks and one of Annie's blouses to work today.
The bad news this week is that our nextdoor neighbor Michael was in a terrible dirt biking accident and is near death. He has a broken pelvis, broken legs and broken ankles but came out of his coma yesterday. Doesn't remember anything that happened to him. Poor thing! He is a good guy and is super duper helpful and nice to my mother. Maybe two weeks ago, he picked up a dead cat from our backyard for my mom. And he hooked us up with free Internet pirated off of his line. Terrible what happened to him but he is alive and beating doctors' expectations as we speak.
Life is short. Please enjoy it.
I've had a nice week. Yesterday I picked up a pair of Prada slacks for $40 at my favorite designer resale store. Didn't even have to hem them! They were made for me. Stopped by the store on my way to dinner at El Cholo in Santa Monica. Was meeting a bunch of ladies for a little catch up. Great group of gals and afterwards, Annie Harrington Orci said she had a bunch of clothes she was giving to charity in her trunk. Three of us pounced on her stuff and I walked away with two nice work tops, a pair of J. Crew shorts, workout pants, and a heating pad. Awesome! I even wore my new slacks and one of Annie's blouses to work today.
The bad news this week is that our nextdoor neighbor Michael was in a terrible dirt biking accident and is near death. He has a broken pelvis, broken legs and broken ankles but came out of his coma yesterday. Doesn't remember anything that happened to him. Poor thing! He is a good guy and is super duper helpful and nice to my mother. Maybe two weeks ago, he picked up a dead cat from our backyard for my mom. And he hooked us up with free Internet pirated off of his line. Terrible what happened to him but he is alive and beating doctors' expectations as we speak.
Life is short. Please enjoy it.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
The Oscars
Ahhhhhh, my first Oscar Sunday since my travels and I'm back on the job. What's Oscar Sunday without me working?
I'd worked the Oscars for seven years prior to my trip to Argentina and there I was again on Sunday, burning the midnight oil. This time was different though: I wasn't at the Kodak with the rest of the reporters, I was at the Hollywood Reporter office; proofing blogs, cropping photos, setting up slideshows and doing whatever needed to be done.
The office was buzzing when I arrived at 3:30. In the past it had been me, myself, and I going to the ceremony, recording backstage sound, and reporting and sending audio from home or the office. Now I was the low woman on the totem pole. No one was really counting on me. I was backup. 'Twas fine with me. Didn't feel pressured.
My big job was putting together a slideshow of exec arrivals. The pictures were of mostly middle aged, white men and their younger dates. In some cases, as with Harvey Weinstein, the guests were wives (his wife Georgina Chapman is gorgeous and I'm sure would not be with fat mean Harvey if he was broke). Ex-wives were in force too (Sumner Redstone) as were plain 'ol dates. A couple of people brought their kids (Pixar's John Lasseter, a Disney exec) and there were, I think, two female execs with their husbands. One lady was black AND an exec. I was impressed.
The Hollywood Reporter bought everyone pizza and salad. Nearly the whole staff was working. At one point, one of the copyeditors and one of the reporters roared with laughter and one of the main editors told them to cut it out...didn't they have work to do? It's old school like that sometimes.
I dig the newspaper vibe. It is exciting beating deadlines and triple checking for accuracy and finding just the right picture to tell the story. It is a team effort. Someone drops the ball and everyone takes the heat. And this is the Oscars too, the biggest night of the year in the biz. If you're not working it, then you're not in it.
I'd worked the Oscars for seven years prior to my trip to Argentina and there I was again on Sunday, burning the midnight oil. This time was different though: I wasn't at the Kodak with the rest of the reporters, I was at the Hollywood Reporter office; proofing blogs, cropping photos, setting up slideshows and doing whatever needed to be done.
The office was buzzing when I arrived at 3:30. In the past it had been me, myself, and I going to the ceremony, recording backstage sound, and reporting and sending audio from home or the office. Now I was the low woman on the totem pole. No one was really counting on me. I was backup. 'Twas fine with me. Didn't feel pressured.
My big job was putting together a slideshow of exec arrivals. The pictures were of mostly middle aged, white men and their younger dates. In some cases, as with Harvey Weinstein, the guests were wives (his wife Georgina Chapman is gorgeous and I'm sure would not be with fat mean Harvey if he was broke). Ex-wives were in force too (Sumner Redstone) as were plain 'ol dates. A couple of people brought their kids (Pixar's John Lasseter, a Disney exec) and there were, I think, two female execs with their husbands. One lady was black AND an exec. I was impressed.
The Hollywood Reporter bought everyone pizza and salad. Nearly the whole staff was working. At one point, one of the copyeditors and one of the reporters roared with laughter and one of the main editors told them to cut it out...didn't they have work to do? It's old school like that sometimes.
I dig the newspaper vibe. It is exciting beating deadlines and triple checking for accuracy and finding just the right picture to tell the story. It is a team effort. Someone drops the ball and everyone takes the heat. And this is the Oscars too, the biggest night of the year in the biz. If you're not working it, then you're not in it.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Little India
My friend Richard's annual All Oscar's Eve party is Saturday night and the theme is "Slumdog Millionaire." We have been asked to dress in our finest Indian attire for the event, which includes booze, food, and an Oscar-themed trivia contest.
My date Chris and I have no Indian attire and as it turns out, no Indian friends either, so we ventured to Little India to see if we could find the appropriate garb. Little India is a two or three block stretch of stores and restaurants on Pioneer Ave. in Cerritos bordering Artesia. It's close to the Cerritos mall and the 91 and 605 freeways, but is it's own little world.
I honestly have never seen so many Indian people in one place in Los Angeles. There were sari stories everywhere and other ethnic wares up and down the street. The saris were beautiful and out of my price range, but we looked anyway.
The highlight of the trip was definitely lunch. We'd seen the names of a couple of restaurants online but in the end, walked into a place based solely on its looks and the looks of its clientele. It was a corner cafe called Jay Bharat that had a decent amount of people in it and nice windows. You couldn't see into some of the other restaurants and for tourists like us, it was better to think we knew what we were getting in to.
One orders his or her food at the counter and they bring it to your table. We poured over the menu for quite some time, not recognizing a thing on it. No chicken tikka masala here. It was Southern Indian cuisine, which meant it was vegetarian. Okay by us.
We finally settled on two things we thought we might like and ordered. I asked the man at the counter if he thought that was enough food. He said "no" and suggested another dish. Then he nixed one of the plates we had ordered and replaced it with a combo plate of some sort. Chris ordered a mango lassi, figuring it had mango so what the heck, and we sat at our table, thankful that the worker had basically picked our meal for us.
The restaurant was filling up by then but we had snagged a table and were happy. Two flat screen TVs were attached high up on the walls and played Indian music videos. Chris stopped talking. The visuals were mesmerizing. You can't be an Indian star without knowing how to dance. I like all the group choreography. And the women don't dress like skanks either. That is refreshing.
Chris's drink came out and was tasty. It was a mango smoothie with an Indian twist. Yogurt or something gave it an almost sour aftertaste. We got used to it though.
The combo platter was next to arrive as was a crepe-like concoction filled with potatoes and spices. Mmm. A bunch of side dishes came with the meal too and Chris and I taste-tested to see what would go good with what. There was a sweet, smooth little dish that Chris started spreading on the crepe thing. We ate spoonfuls of it too. Then we thought, "What if this isn't meant to be spread or eaten directly? What if it's some sort of butter or mayonnaise and people think we're crazy the way we're eating it??"
It turned out to be pudding. We had a big laugh. Good times in the foreign land known as Little India!
My date Chris and I have no Indian attire and as it turns out, no Indian friends either, so we ventured to Little India to see if we could find the appropriate garb. Little India is a two or three block stretch of stores and restaurants on Pioneer Ave. in Cerritos bordering Artesia. It's close to the Cerritos mall and the 91 and 605 freeways, but is it's own little world.
I honestly have never seen so many Indian people in one place in Los Angeles. There were sari stories everywhere and other ethnic wares up and down the street. The saris were beautiful and out of my price range, but we looked anyway.
The highlight of the trip was definitely lunch. We'd seen the names of a couple of restaurants online but in the end, walked into a place based solely on its looks and the looks of its clientele. It was a corner cafe called Jay Bharat that had a decent amount of people in it and nice windows. You couldn't see into some of the other restaurants and for tourists like us, it was better to think we knew what we were getting in to.
One orders his or her food at the counter and they bring it to your table. We poured over the menu for quite some time, not recognizing a thing on it. No chicken tikka masala here. It was Southern Indian cuisine, which meant it was vegetarian. Okay by us.
We finally settled on two things we thought we might like and ordered. I asked the man at the counter if he thought that was enough food. He said "no" and suggested another dish. Then he nixed one of the plates we had ordered and replaced it with a combo plate of some sort. Chris ordered a mango lassi, figuring it had mango so what the heck, and we sat at our table, thankful that the worker had basically picked our meal for us.
The restaurant was filling up by then but we had snagged a table and were happy. Two flat screen TVs were attached high up on the walls and played Indian music videos. Chris stopped talking. The visuals were mesmerizing. You can't be an Indian star without knowing how to dance. I like all the group choreography. And the women don't dress like skanks either. That is refreshing.
Chris's drink came out and was tasty. It was a mango smoothie with an Indian twist. Yogurt or something gave it an almost sour aftertaste. We got used to it though.
The combo platter was next to arrive as was a crepe-like concoction filled with potatoes and spices. Mmm. A bunch of side dishes came with the meal too and Chris and I taste-tested to see what would go good with what. There was a sweet, smooth little dish that Chris started spreading on the crepe thing. We ate spoonfuls of it too. Then we thought, "What if this isn't meant to be spread or eaten directly? What if it's some sort of butter or mayonnaise and people think we're crazy the way we're eating it??"
It turned out to be pudding. We had a big laugh. Good times in the foreign land known as Little India!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Pain, pain go away
Today, Monday, was spent either in bed or moaning elsewhere. See, I had a headache that started yesterday, got really bad during the night, and laid me out all day today. I wanted to do so much today but could not. Head hurt too bad to read, to watch TV, to do much of anything.
The headache followed a typical M.O. It came on after I had exercised and had a couple of beers. This leads me to think dehydration is part of the problem. Thing is, I drank lots of water after working out and only had two beers. Is that what did it? Must I leave afternoon drinking in my past?
I got so desperate, as my pain medication is all but gone, that I called the Valley's version of Dr. Feelgood. Apparantely, Dr. Marc Abrahams is liberal with the prescriptions. But, you have to show up at his office after 6 and wait for hours to be seen. He doesn't take uninsured patients either, so there goes my office visit. Looks like I'll get the free clinic experience firsthand from here on out.
The headache followed a typical M.O. It came on after I had exercised and had a couple of beers. This leads me to think dehydration is part of the problem. Thing is, I drank lots of water after working out and only had two beers. Is that what did it? Must I leave afternoon drinking in my past?
I got so desperate, as my pain medication is all but gone, that I called the Valley's version of Dr. Feelgood. Apparantely, Dr. Marc Abrahams is liberal with the prescriptions. But, you have to show up at his office after 6 and wait for hours to be seen. He doesn't take uninsured patients either, so there goes my office visit. Looks like I'll get the free clinic experience firsthand from here on out.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Inaugural thoughts
I am very happy. I've been singing farewell songs to George Bush all week leading up to today. Good riddance to him. Let Texas have him. I never need to see or hear from him again. Done.
President Obama gave a perfectly competent speech. A hightlight for me was when he said something like..."Christians and Muslims, Jews and Mormons (OK, I know he did not say that), and NON-BELIEVERS...." Good for him. Everyone always talks god this and god that and I get so tired of it. I am all about church and state. Keep 'em separate. Don't swear on a bible or say "under god." The constitution doesn't make you and let's keep your lord out of it.
Then there was Minister Joseph Lowery. I heard his benediction on NPR on the way to work. Couldn't make out what he was saying at first but really got into his closing words: "Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right." Awesome! This rhyming was way more moving than what that poet lady said and got the point across.
We all need to settle down now. Bush is history and Obama needs to prove himself. He took a step in the right direction by suspending Guantanamo trials today. Nice move. Shut that place down! Let's reclaim the Geneva Conventions, please.
I come from a family of liberals and we were pleased today. I watched the swearing-in ceremony with my mom and she snuck a teeny American flag into my wallet before I left for work. She thanked me for sharing the Inauguration with her and it moved both of us. I'm glad we experienced it together. Later in the day, my dad left me a voice message proclaiming, "Hail to the chief! Hail to the chief!" Good people, my mom and dad. My lefty ways come from directly from them, thank goodness!
President Obama gave a perfectly competent speech. A hightlight for me was when he said something like..."Christians and Muslims, Jews and Mormons (OK, I know he did not say that), and NON-BELIEVERS...." Good for him. Everyone always talks god this and god that and I get so tired of it. I am all about church and state. Keep 'em separate. Don't swear on a bible or say "under god." The constitution doesn't make you and let's keep your lord out of it.
Then there was Minister Joseph Lowery. I heard his benediction on NPR on the way to work. Couldn't make out what he was saying at first but really got into his closing words: "Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right." Awesome! This rhyming was way more moving than what that poet lady said and got the point across.
We all need to settle down now. Bush is history and Obama needs to prove himself. He took a step in the right direction by suspending Guantanamo trials today. Nice move. Shut that place down! Let's reclaim the Geneva Conventions, please.
I come from a family of liberals and we were pleased today. I watched the swearing-in ceremony with my mom and she snuck a teeny American flag into my wallet before I left for work. She thanked me for sharing the Inauguration with her and it moved both of us. I'm glad we experienced it together. Later in the day, my dad left me a voice message proclaiming, "Hail to the chief! Hail to the chief!" Good people, my mom and dad. My lefty ways come from directly from them, thank goodness!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Urgent: Molotov
My most favorite, raging Mexican band Molotov is coming to town and I am torn. Should I pay an outrageous $45 for a ticket through Ticketmaster? Or should I take my chances on a $32 ticket at the door? What if they sell out??!!!
Another way in would be to write a concert review. I am contacting and/or pitching everyone I know, but the question is: should I wait and see if I can work the event, or should I buck up and pay for the peace of mind of knowing that my ticket is in hand? (I am pretty good at picking up last-minute tickets through Craigslist or at the venue the night of the show, so those are other options.)
I have seen no publicity for this tour except for an ad in the LA Weekly. I can't believe it! Followers of my previous blog will know that Molotov blew my mind when I saw them live in Guadalajara in May. I expect this show will sell out, as they don't come to L.A. very often. They're going a whole U.S. tour too! New York, Atlanta, D.C., New Orleans, Nashville -- all the big music towns.
I encourage everyone to see Molotov live! They rock the "f" out.
Another way in would be to write a concert review. I am contacting and/or pitching everyone I know, but the question is: should I wait and see if I can work the event, or should I buck up and pay for the peace of mind of knowing that my ticket is in hand? (I am pretty good at picking up last-minute tickets through Craigslist or at the venue the night of the show, so those are other options.)
I have seen no publicity for this tour except for an ad in the LA Weekly. I can't believe it! Followers of my previous blog will know that Molotov blew my mind when I saw them live in Guadalajara in May. I expect this show will sell out, as they don't come to L.A. very often. They're going a whole U.S. tour too! New York, Atlanta, D.C., New Orleans, Nashville -- all the big music towns.
I encourage everyone to see Molotov live! They rock the "f" out.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Yoga Works worked me
It's a new year and I need to get back on the yoga train. I exercise a couple of times a week but I mostly jog, leaving my poor little muscles tight and keeping me vulnerable to headaches. I used to go to yoga twice a week but now I'm lucky if I go once every three weeks. A lot of this has to do with location: there are very few Iyengar yoga classes in the South Bay. There are a few decent yoga classes but nothing rivaling Iyengar taught by Marla and Paul at Yoga Works. Yoga is also expensive. It is not a discipline for the unemployed.
Now that I'm earning a little bit of money, I thought it was time to throw down for a proper Iyengar class at Yoga Works. There's a studio not too far from my current office and a class at my level happens every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 6:15. I scouted out the location at lunch time today because I'd be rushing to make the class after work. I prepaid my 20 dollars to avoid having to wait when I got there.
I dashed out of work at 6 on the dot, fought more traffic than there was a lunch, and ended up parking at a public lot instead of street parking like I did earlier in the day.
I paid $3 for parking after my perfectly decent class. Then I realized I could have used my KCRW discount. Then I was mad. I had just paid $23 for 90 minutes of stretching. That is too much. Not just because I'm unemployed, that is too much in general. There were at least 10 people in my class, which means the studio cleared more than $200. The instructor can't earn more than $100 and we were just one of a couple of classes being conducted at that hour.
Yoga is supposed to be spiritual and beneficial but in L.A., it's for wealthy residents. For all of Yoga Works' preaching, they do not give anyone a break. I asked for the new student discount since I hadn't taken a class in a least a year and a half but they said "no." I could have bought a series of 10 classes for $150 but it's not like I have $150 at my disposal either.
A welcoming yoga studio in Long Beach called Free Spirit Yoga costs $15 a class and $11 if you buy a series of 10 classes. That is much more reasonable and in the end, I'd rather give my money to an independently-owned studio than the corporate machine known as Yoga Works. And since running is free, I'll probably continue to do more of that than anything else.
Now that I'm earning a little bit of money, I thought it was time to throw down for a proper Iyengar class at Yoga Works. There's a studio not too far from my current office and a class at my level happens every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 6:15. I scouted out the location at lunch time today because I'd be rushing to make the class after work. I prepaid my 20 dollars to avoid having to wait when I got there.
I dashed out of work at 6 on the dot, fought more traffic than there was a lunch, and ended up parking at a public lot instead of street parking like I did earlier in the day.
I paid $3 for parking after my perfectly decent class. Then I realized I could have used my KCRW discount. Then I was mad. I had just paid $23 for 90 minutes of stretching. That is too much. Not just because I'm unemployed, that is too much in general. There were at least 10 people in my class, which means the studio cleared more than $200. The instructor can't earn more than $100 and we were just one of a couple of classes being conducted at that hour.
Yoga is supposed to be spiritual and beneficial but in L.A., it's for wealthy residents. For all of Yoga Works' preaching, they do not give anyone a break. I asked for the new student discount since I hadn't taken a class in a least a year and a half but they said "no." I could have bought a series of 10 classes for $150 but it's not like I have $150 at my disposal either.
A welcoming yoga studio in Long Beach called Free Spirit Yoga costs $15 a class and $11 if you buy a series of 10 classes. That is much more reasonable and in the end, I'd rather give my money to an independently-owned studio than the corporate machine known as Yoga Works. And since running is free, I'll probably continue to do more of that than anything else.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Work And The New Year
Today was my first day at my new temp job at the Hollywood Reporter. I am a web editor, which means I copy-edit, post stories and pictures to the web, write headlines and pick up the slack where ever the staff needs it. Training went slowly today but I managed to post two music stories and crop a couple of photos. The office uses Macs so a simple thing like opening a new web browser on Firefox takes some thought on my PC-trained-brain. It's not so bad though: it's for 30 hours a week, Tuesday-Friday, and I get paid more for 30 hours there than I did for 40+ hours as a freelancer with my old company. I came back from my travels swearing I was through with entertainment but I couldn't turn down this opportunity. We'll see what happens with it -- at the very least, I am learning new web skills that will help me down the road.
The most noteworthy happening of the day occurred on my lunch break. There's a "park" behind my office building with tables and benches and greenery. There's an identical "park" behind the building next door and that's where I decided to sit because the sun was hitting its benches.
There were three strollers and three nannies already camped out at the bench area when I arrived. I nodded "hello" when I approached and sat myself at the one vacant bench left. These nannies all spoke Spanish and all had young Anglo charges. One lady excused herself soon after I arrived but the two others carried on with conversations about potty training, their bosses, and the English words for various berries. I minded my own business until one of the kids did the most precious thing. His caretaker was feeding him berries and one did not suit his fancy. He exclaimed, "No sirve!" cracking up the ladies and myself.
"No sirve" roughly translates to "it doesn't work" or "it's no good." That little kid is more bilingual than I am! I would never had thought to say that even though it was exactly the right thing to say. The nannies laughed and laughed and laughed at the boy's ability to express himself so succinctly. It was cute. That little boy understood everything his nanny was saying to him in Spanish and could answer back in Spanish too. If only my brain worked that way!
I did get to practice Spanish over the holidays with my relatives from Mexico City. I was not as good as I was this summer but it did come back to me a bit. After hearing me speak to my cousins, one relative noted that my Spanish had improved quite a bit since returning to L.A. That's all I can wish for.
Christmas and New Year's was all about the family. My dad was in town from Gig Harbor, Washington, the Mexican relatives were staying at the house, and my sister was in town from Atlanta. There were birthdays, get-togethers, Christmas Eve, shopping, field trips, and more gatherings all revolving around the family. I went up to LA only once in three weeks, the rest of the time was spent down here driving people around and hosting events. Busy but fun.
The last event we hosted was my mom's 70th birthday brunch on Sunday. There were at least 40 people here but things went smoothly with catered posole, rice, beans, and enchiladas. Lots of desserts and mimosas too! My mom is a lovely lady and friends and relatives came out to wish her the best. It was moving and worth it.
The most noteworthy happening of the day occurred on my lunch break. There's a "park" behind my office building with tables and benches and greenery. There's an identical "park" behind the building next door and that's where I decided to sit because the sun was hitting its benches.
There were three strollers and three nannies already camped out at the bench area when I arrived. I nodded "hello" when I approached and sat myself at the one vacant bench left. These nannies all spoke Spanish and all had young Anglo charges. One lady excused herself soon after I arrived but the two others carried on with conversations about potty training, their bosses, and the English words for various berries. I minded my own business until one of the kids did the most precious thing. His caretaker was feeding him berries and one did not suit his fancy. He exclaimed, "No sirve!" cracking up the ladies and myself.
"No sirve" roughly translates to "it doesn't work" or "it's no good." That little kid is more bilingual than I am! I would never had thought to say that even though it was exactly the right thing to say. The nannies laughed and laughed and laughed at the boy's ability to express himself so succinctly. It was cute. That little boy understood everything his nanny was saying to him in Spanish and could answer back in Spanish too. If only my brain worked that way!
I did get to practice Spanish over the holidays with my relatives from Mexico City. I was not as good as I was this summer but it did come back to me a bit. After hearing me speak to my cousins, one relative noted that my Spanish had improved quite a bit since returning to L.A. That's all I can wish for.
Christmas and New Year's was all about the family. My dad was in town from Gig Harbor, Washington, the Mexican relatives were staying at the house, and my sister was in town from Atlanta. There were birthdays, get-togethers, Christmas Eve, shopping, field trips, and more gatherings all revolving around the family. I went up to LA only once in three weeks, the rest of the time was spent down here driving people around and hosting events. Busy but fun.
The last event we hosted was my mom's 70th birthday brunch on Sunday. There were at least 40 people here but things went smoothly with catered posole, rice, beans, and enchiladas. Lots of desserts and mimosas too! My mom is a lovely lady and friends and relatives came out to wish her the best. It was moving and worth it.
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