A quiet afternoon in our Hollywood Hills backyard was interrupted by the thunderous whirl of 5 helicopters hovering. Our first inclination was to assume there was another accident on the nearby 101 freeway. 30 minutes later the choppers weren't moving on so we went to the interwebs to see just what all the hubbub was about.
Just your classic Los Angeles high speed chase.
Visitors to this blog are always asking about the best places to live in Los Angeles. While homicides shouldn't be your only measure of a good neighborhood (er...maybe it should) a quick look at the LA times homicide report might steer you away from dangerous hoods.
As you will notice, Compton rates highest in homicides for the year, so probably not your first neighborhood choice. Of course if you ever listened to anything Dr. Dre said you already knew that!
Well, its not my identity crisis at all. I'm perfectly comfortable and confident in my skin. I know who I am and "what" I am but the US census bureau apparently disagrees.
When I first got the census letter survey in the mail I was excited to fill it out, proud to be a 27 year old Chicana in a nearly all white neighborhood. I had no delusions that I'd sway the minority population, just hoped to proudly represent. But, as I got to the "Race" question on the census form I was baffled. It asks me to identify with one of the races but I'm not white, black, Asian, pacific islander, Korean, Vietnamese, or Native American.
I mulled over this for a week and decided to fill in the "other" section so I wrote "not white". Supposedly if i fill it out wrong I may get a visit from a census worker. Until then I'll be busy sunning my skin to the appropriate shade of brown.
I am not white.
Just received this in the mail:
Only took him six months to process my application but he came through. Thank you Schwarzenegger. Now I can take some tests.
After reading the L.A. Times this morning I began to wonder if Dominic should have felt so confident when he admonished two teens for ruining Alice in Wonderland with their incessant chatter.
From the Times:
The L.A. County Sheriff's Department has arrested a suspect in the case of a moviegoer who was attacked with a meat thermometer during a screening of "Shutter Island" at a Lancaster theater last month.The victim was stabbed after complaining about someone nearby talking on a cellphone.
Makes me realize how much I prefer waiting for the DVD release.
Now that we live more than a mile from my work I have to do the dreaded L.A. commute. Granted, 6 miles isn't all that far either but in L.A. it can feel like 40 miles if you take the wrong route. Thanks to some great advice I have been able to avoid a lot of traffic.
For a long time my Fountain route took me directly through Hollywood via Highland - do not do this to yourself! Hollywood and Highland is a major cluster f. between the locals, the tourists, and the massive amounts of crazies this is the worst place in L.A. to drive! I found a different route to the hills via Outpost which is windy and bumpy but a whole lot less congested. Unfortunately, to get to Outpost I was taking La Brea which was all fine until the Oscars closed streets and backed up traffic for miles.
On to my perfected route...
I now take a hidden little gem of a route via Gardner! Gardner is a nice wide street with hardly any congestion. Just watch out for Runyon Canyon Hikers crossing the street they DO NOT LOOK BOTH WAYS! Also, Famke Janssen seems to be a regular in the area and you do not want to be that person who ran over Jean Grey -- X-men fans will never forgive you.
10820 Ventura Boulevard
Studio City, CA 91604-3338
818.762.4225
On Thursday Nicole and I both arrived home late in the evening after a long day. We didn't have the energy to prepare ourselves a meal so we decided to go out and find something. Pesto was on Nicole's mind so we decided to try Zach's Italian Cafe just down the street.
Now, I initially judge most places by the price of their light beer. Yeah, lame I know, but it's a good indicator of overall menu price. It is this reason only that we haven't tried Henry's Hat which is even closer to us. I just can't stand paying $5 for a Miller Lite when I can get six of them for $5.50 at JONS.
Anyway, the Miller Lite at Zach's was $3. Good sign. The menu prices were average for what you'd expect to find at a sit-down place in the valley. Zach's must be a converted motel as the building and parking situation are a little weird. Even if you park yourself in their lot you have to pay $3 to the valet. Uh, ok. Whatever. I'd recommend parking at the meters on the street.
Nicole had the Rotelli Pesto Pasta with broccoli (no meat) and it cost $12.00. I had the Zach's Original Spinach Salad with chicken for $13.00. I was assuming that since our two meals mostly consisted of foods (pasta and spinach) that are extremely inexpensive we'd be getting massive portions with which we could take home. Not so. The portions were average as well as the food. The food was much like something you'd make yourself. Nothing flashy but still decent. The best part however was the free cheese stuffed bread and garlic butter they keep bringing to your table. If it wasn't for that I think I would have been upset.
The staff was amazing and the dining room was quiet and comfortable with plenty of space between tables. All in all, Zach's is a good place. Our only complaint outside of the smallish portions and weird parking that has nothing to do with Zach's itself was this old hag sitting behind us who had her remaining food boxed up and when it was brought back to the table she looked at the container and asked, "Do you have a different shaped container to put it in?". What?! Like that one won't fit in your refrigerator you dinosaur? She really bugged me but that isn't Zach's fault.
Since we no longer live incredibly close to our jobs and haven't been able to afford a second car I've been riding my scooter to work nearly every day.
The Southern California weather allows me to ride it probably close to 300 days a year, it gets around 80 mpg and costs $3.50 to fill it up with premium gas (which gets me around for a week). Also, here in LA you're allowed to split lanes. I can't begin to comprehend how much time this has saved me. Even during rush hour I can make it from the 101 to Beverly Hills (Wilshire & Doheny) in about 20 minutes. If you know LA that is ridiculous fast.
All that being said, it may sound like a motorbike is the perfect vehicle for a place like LA but it comes with huge risk. People here don't like to use their blinkers. When you're passing an SUV and you're in his blind spot and he doesn't signal that he's coming into your lane and just starts getting over it can be pretty scary. Everyone here is in a hurry and they ALWAYS run yellow lights and very often run red. As a motorcyclist you're the first in line at every light and if you don't check both ways before pulling out it's likely you could get clipped by a fast moving vehicle running the light. Most importantly, it's very, very easy for a car trying to make a right or left turn into or across fast moving traffic from a side street or driveway and not see you. They're focused on the gaps between the cars passing by and looking for one big enough for them to fit through. They're most likely not thinking about you on your scooter splitting lanes between these cars. In my opinion this is the easiest way to get really hurt.
With that, some tips on how to not die while motorbiking it in LA:
-Always look both ways before entering the intersecting when the light turns green.
-Always be on the lookout for cars entering or cutting across your lane of traffic from side streets/entrances. Even when going slowly!!
-Same rule above goes for cars turning left across your lane. Assume they don't see you and depth perception in this situation is crap (for both drivers). A tip here: Look at the spokes of their wheels, are they turning? Then they're probably going to turn right in front of you.
-Sometimes it's impossible to not tailgate. When doing so be on the lookout for wheel swallowing potholes directly in front of you until you can gain some space between you and the bumper of the car ahead.
-I think there is only one bike lane in all of LA (Santa Monica Blvd, West Hollywood) if you're riding in it (illegally) watch for heads in the driver seats of the parked cars as well as cars turning across your lane. Running into an opened car door will be ruin your day.
-If you're splitting lanes and the cars ahead slow down for no apparent reason, you MUST also slow down. There is a high probability there's a pedestrian walking across the busy street and stopping traffic (and you won't see them until they're right in front of you).
-Never make any sudden lane changes. Even though motorcycles here change lanes often, other drivers don't assume that. They could be passing you quickly and you may not hear or see them.
-Wear face protection. I've hit bees at 40+ mph a number of times and had them get stuck INSIDE my helmet, ALIVE! Bad times.
-You may think you're the only awesome dude splitting lanes. You're at full throttle on your scooter at a good speed (you think) and then a Ducati comes up behind you. Let him pass before he does something that puts you both in danger.
-This may be a racist stereotype but I don't care: Watch out for Asian drivers. Especially female Asian drivers. Not joking.
-I'm not religious but I pray before every scooter ride. Can't hurt right?
Good luck.
What? Three blog posts in one day? I know! I've had ample time to sit and reflect today on account of only working three hours on Friday and having nothing else urgent to do.
I was reminiscing today about my old stomping ground West Hollywood while I took a short walk down the street (of our new neighborhood). I took note that there wasn't ample trash or excrement littering literally every vacant nook and cranny along the sidewalk. It made me realize that for being considered such "clean" people the gays are really terribly messy. Well, the young ones who frequent Santa Monica Blvd. anyway.
It also brought back my crowning memory of West Hollywood. To put it lightly: Having already been mostly moved in to the new place I went back to the West Hollywood apartment to do some laundry (on account of having no laundry facilities at our new house). While I was filling the first of the three washing machines in the apartment laundry I happened to get a really nice whiff of something foul. Not like dog shit or even baby shit foul. By comparison that would have been nice. This was steady protein diet, apple martini, menthol cigarette, huge load in the rectum kind of foul.
I stood bewildered, checking both of my shoes, wondering where the hell I could have stepped in this kind of thing when I noticed that in the 30 inch space between the washing machine I was loading and the adjacent wall there was a huge pile of dookie. An enormous human dookie. Now, I hate to make a bad story worse but right through the center of this Guinness worthy dook were four very distinct finger scoop marks. Like the assailant had realized his horrendous mistake of crapping on the laundry room floor between a concrete wall and a Dadson washing machine at 2am and having his conscience get the better of him he grabbed a fistfull of his own excrement and then tried to place it in the laundry room trash can!! Again, hate to make an even worse story unreadable but it wasn't one of those open top Rubbermaid kind of trashcans. It was one of the domed top metal trashcans with the 10 by 10 inch self-closing springed flap. To make matters worse, it wasn't high quality either and the spring on this thing could probably have been used in place of the leaf springs in an old Cadillac so you had to fight with the flap in order to get anything inside of it.
Imagine the dismay of the poor poopoo offender when he went to shove a portion of smelly, steaming gay goodtime reminder into the trashcan and he was met with the springed resistance of five men behind a small chromed aluminum door. Needless to say, not much of it ended up in the trash can. I think at this point the guy must have just pulled his pants up and exited the building to endure a chaffed and stinky walk home.
Having rather witnessed the stoning of an innocent young girl I grabbed my wet soapy clothes, shoved them back in my bag and went home.
Now, you might think this to just be a one off occurrence. Oh no. This was my third direct experience with the feces of a complete stranger in a place I shouldn't have found it. First time was in the sunken stairwell leading to the parking garage of our apartment and the second was in the same spot behind a bush that Oni (my dog) likes to poo. In either of these cases I would have dismissed them as being a crap left by a homeless person had it not been for the wrapper from an expensive coffee shop pastry and a gay bar coaster used in place of toilette paper.
I still don't hate the gays and think for the most part they're all good people. I believe the world needs them but I'll be damned if I ever move to one of their neighborhoods again.
Ok, so technically this has almost nothing to do with Los Angeles but this is my blog and I'll post about whatever I want to...
In college I discovered a struggling band that happened to make music I really identified with. The guys in the band where all about my age and I like to think if I had any kind of musical talent I would have been making music very similar to theirs. Many concerts later these same guys agreed to play our upcoming wedding but it happened to be just days before the release of their album that ended up going double platinum. Needless to say they didn't play our wedding and I don't blame them.
You're going to think less of me but that band was Fall Out Boy. Since going mainstream and seducing millions of tween girls I have grown rather shameful when listening to their music. It's still some of the best I've ever heard mind you, it's just that I can't stand knowing I've got the same musical tastes as the girls who vote on TRL. For whatever it's worth, I can say that I did find them before they became teen idols.
At any rate, Nicole and I have been waiting for the day they break up and our favorite member of the band goes solo. Well, today I learned that exactly that has happened and I couldn't be more excited:
The JONS in Hollywood (La Brea & Fountain) is the best place in the whole city for cheap produce. Yeah, you have to pick through the rotten apples (literally) to find a good one but for a few cents a piece I'll dig all day. I'm not sure if all JONS are this way but this one seems to cater to the local ethnic crowd. They stock many kinds of Polish beer and Persian pickled cucumbers among countless other ethnic delicacies.
While this is all great it isn't the most intriguing thing about this JONS. The most interesting aspect is the apparent requirement of a unibrow in order to work anywhere in the store but the checkout (there you have to be a disgruntled hispanic woman). I feel like a big enough a-hole just writing about this so I couldn't bring myself to take a picture of one of them. Guess you're just going to have to see for yourself.
(just ate some buttered noodles. Mmmmmmmm nom nom nom!)
For the past five days I've ridden my scooter down Cahuenga/Highland and witnessed true LA traffic. Why just the last five days you ask? Well, Hollywood Blvd. has been closed for the Oscars and apparently people here are so stuck in their routines that even though every news channel reports this closure they still try and either turn on to or continue on Hollywood Blvd. during this event. The first day I assumed people just hadn't caught the news. The second day I thought for sure they'll be avoiding this tomorrow. The third day I realized the majority of LA drivers are just ignorant cows.
Whatever. I split the lanes on my scooter and get to work on time.
