Monday, November 24, 2008

Hard at work

Winner of the best monkey impression at the the 16th summit of the Asian Pacific Economic Cooperation. Other talents include pretzel choking, confidently speaking nonsense and an 8-year record that has him in the running for the title of Worst President in History.

If a picture is really worth a thousand words... oh, Bushy Boy, you wouldn't even need to speak your trademark nonsense for us to understand exactly what you are (or more acurately, are not) capable of.

Doors are hard.
The cost, very high cost, of a Presidential pardon.










Same response to dealing with someone who is a little icky at the moment.
Wishing for lightning...
My thoughts exactly.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Scents of self


Last night I had the most unexpectedly wonderful night.

The plan had been to meet Stacy for a little shopping and Sunday night movie, but a black cloud started to appear over the night when the traffic congestion to park was agonizingly not moving anywhere for what seemed like forever. I deduced, while shifting my car into park to relieve my aching braking foot, that everyone on L.A.'s west side was trying to get out of the choking smoke and raining ash that had been blocking out the sun for the weekend. Well, I couldn't blame them; it was disgustingly, sneezingly awful. But... Stacy and I made these plans before the whole of Southern California burst into flames, so therefore everyone was invited to get the **** out of my way!

I've lived in L.A. long enough to occasionally be able to read the writing on the wall - or in this case, read the non-moving traffic in a claustrophobic parking ramp. The movie I had been dying to see (an occurrence which only happens about once a year) would be nearing full...for the showing that didn't start for another 3 hours. I could just sense it. And sure enough, at 4:30 the 6:00 showing of Slumdog Millionaire only had 2 seats in the front row open. "Okay," I exhaled, "how about the 7:30 show?" Yes, yes, fine, I'll take those seats in the fourth row.

After finding Stacy in the crowd and breaking the news of the fourth row seating debacle we headed to the Nordstrom's sale and got down to business. My curly-haired friend bagged a spring grass green cashmere sweater for a steal and then wanted to know what it was that would suit my fancy?

First floor. Total indulgence, please.

Shoes and purses turned out to be so picked over that the best looking bag we saw was by Juicy. And I am not a Juicy girl (much like I will never - never! - be a girl who purchases Jessica Simpson products). On the way to the jewelry cases we were meandering through fragrances when something made us stop at a display of ungodly expensive body soufflés. Before I knew it, my nose was in the jar labeled Almond Coconut Milk and Stacy was firmly reminding me that, "the last time I smelled a lotion and made those noises you made me buy it because you said you'd never heard that kind of yummy noise coming from me before. And you know what? Best purchase I ever made. You have to buy that. Hello?! You LOVE coconut!"

Me: "What? When did I do that?"
Her: "Target. The 'lemon cookie' lotion."
Me: "Oh. Yes, I'm very wise. (pause) This is going to be expensive though!"

And then a bubbly sales girl was at the counter and the three of us spent an unknown amount of time yapping, with me and Stacy asking question after question, quickly finding a routine where one asked a question as the other busily stuck their nose into another tub of lotion and then demanded that the other smell it immediately. Before I knew it, I had French Vanilla on my hands, Almond Coconut Milk on my arms and a spritz of the Nuits Enchantées parfum on my wrists - all subtly combining into the most heavenly aroma.

To our credit, we walked out of Nordstrom's for a diet Coke break without making any purchases just yet. Because, really, you never do know how a fragrance will settle. Just a few weeks ago I had spritzed the crook of my arm with something that on first whiff wreaked of shoes. I had been horrified and Sephora stupidly doesn't have a sink or high-powered hose for such situations, so I'd had to live with it. And an hour later, it had sunk down and mellowed out into a lovely warm scent, but who the hell would want to smell like a shoe everyday during the transition period?

But a funny thing happened while sipping diet Cokes the size of our faces... amongst conversations about family birthday parties, apartment arrangements and why some families deem it a good idea to hold a reunion at a mall food court?... we couldn't stop smelling my arms and wrists. (It was a wafting motion with sniffing, basically.) And I thought of all the reasons why right now was actually not a good time to buy myself a present: 25% of my office had been laid off on Friday, I'd just found out last week that my living situation would soon be changing and would likely result in at least some kind of financial repercussion, the holidays were approaching... But like Stacy said, I don't ever have a reaction like that to something - and Friday's lay offs had actually been round number 4 that I had survived, so maybe I deserved a little gift.

Plans were formulated and last sips of diet Coke were sucked down before we were purposefully headed back to Nordstrom's. And there, under the hot spotlights, I asked for the parfum and the gift set of the body soufflés, which Stacy and I later divided: she took the Crème Brulee (which gave her a skin a yummy salty top note and then melted into subtly sweet caramel) and I took the French Vanilla and, of course, the Almond Coconut Milk.

An hour after our purchases I was in the dark of the fourth row, watching an absolutely fabulous movie (go, go now to see Slumdog Millionaire), constantly sticking my wrist into my face for a secret whiff that always resulted in a small self-satisfied smile. Now, THAT is a good purchase.

I've never been one to have a signature scent. In high school and college I had a new perfume every school year and as an adult, I've shifted between lighter and heavier smells with the changing seasons. And recently, I've been insatiable about it. Constantly sniffing every bottle in every store; never committing... never loving.

Until now.

Now - today - I can't stop inhaling the cozy scent that lingers around me. Maybe it has something to do with having such a great time in the purchasing of it and loving the movie that I disappeared into while stealing little sniffs of my wrist... maybe it's those happy associations that make me think that this inviting, slightly sweet, non-artificial, wrap-you-up-in-a-decadent-blanket-and-sunshine-at-the-same-time fragrance is...just...so...me.

Tonight, and ten hours after applying some parfum and French Vanilla soufflé, I pushed open the door with Stacy one step behind me as we defiantly strutted out of the office. "My god, you smell delicious! It's like a waft of lovely trailing behind you!... And at the end of the day, too!"

I'm hoping that it's a sign of things to come; goodbye sadness and stress, hello lovely.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

For old times' sake...

In continuing my ecstatic wave goodbye to W., I've placed below an article, "The Big Boss of the World," that appeared in Australia's Sydney Morning Herald on November 3, 2004. Written by my most favorite of writers, the uber-talented expat, Bill Bryson, it is an attempt to explain the Bush / Kerry election to the people of Australia. I've read this article too many times to count these past four years and so it seemed fitting to include it in my ongoing adieu.

The Big Boss of the World

Brain versus corn ... Kerry is perceived to have the intellect, but cannot inspire his supporters, while Bush seems able to do almost anything - such as eating raw vegetables - without denting his folksy image. Photo: Reuters


George Bush, the regular guy happy to feed a live fish to his dog, is up against a man with the hair to be president and an air of unconquerable aloofness. Bill Bryson untangles the contenders.

I've been thinking a lot lately about the mysterious bulge in George Bush's jacket. The idea that Bush might have been wired for assistance has a kind of endearing charm. With the best will in the world - and of course I am not offering anything as generous as that here - you have to concede that a radio transmitter would explain a great deal, not least Bush's interesting tendency to order himself to pipe down at odd moments in the debates.


Days before any thought of wireless nefariousness entered my head, I remember being struck that Bush referred to the Italian Prime Minister as "Sylvia Burrus", and then a minute or two later, when the name was no longer conspicuously germane, blurted out "Silvio Berlusconi" as if it had just miraculously come to him. Which, as we now know, it may well have.


What is interesting in this is not how swiftly the story faded from the nation's attention - news is really just a series of nano-events these days - but how little effect it had in its brief spell of lively consideration.


Bush, I'm told, could have walked up to the lectern with television rabbit ears strapped to his head and it would have made little difference to how most Americans perceive him. Those who dislike and distrust him do so maximally already, while those who adore him are equally unwavering in their devotions.


For those of us who are not on the adoring end of the equation, the question that naturally springs to mind is: what would it take to get people not to want to vote for him? One quality that doesn't seem to matter as it once did - and I am sorry to bring it up because it is an awfully touchy subject - is the matter of presidential intelligence.


Consider an interesting historical parallel. In 1976, while wooing Mexican-American voters, President Gerald Ford was presented with a large, freshly made tamale to pose with. The tamale was wrapped, in the traditional manner, in a corn husk to keep it warm.


Unfortunately for his reputation, Ford proceeded to try to eat the whole thing, fibrous husk and all. This was roughly equivalent to sitting down to lunch in a diner and trying to eat the place mat. He looked so foolish that millions of people decided not to vote for him, and instead we got four years of Jimmy Carter and his very odd family, which was a national sacrifice, to be sure.


Now cast your mind forward 28 years to August 2004. Sensing a photo opportunity while campaigning in Iowa, Bush stopped his motorcade and bounded over to a vegetable stand, bought an ear of corn and, as cameras excitedly clicked, proceeded to try to eat it raw, discovering in the process what all other grown people know already - that eating raw corn is like eating raw wheat or raw rice, which is to say not remotely satisfactory.


In the same week, while fishing, Bush tossed his dog a live fish to torment to death on the lawn. I hesitate to show disrespect for the President because, as the radio talk show people constantly remind us, criticising the President (or any of his actions or the actions of anyone who has a gun or wears an American flag on his lapel, or such a person's mother) gives comfort to the enemy, so I'll just say very quietly that both of these incidents made him look just a little bit not-too-smart.


Yet neither action, as far as can be told, affected Bush's standing with the electorate even a trifle.


Just as Bush seemed constitutionally unable to dismay his supporters, so Senator John Kerry seemed throughout the campaign constitutionally unable to galvanise his.


The only thing rarer than someone who feelingly supports John Kerry is, it has to be said, someone who understands what his policies are. It is hardly a novel observation to note that roughly half the electorate has voted not for Kerry, but against Bush.


On the face of it, Bush would seem to have the lead in accumulated negatives. The economy is not looking terribly rosy. The budget surplus of $US200 billion ($268 billion) that he inherited four years ago has become a projected deficit this year of $US422 billion and is heading for aggregated arrears of $US2.3 trillion by the end of the decade.


More than a million jobs have been lost in the same period. The rebuilding of Iraq is such a mess that even many conservative commentators - notably George Will and Tucker Carlson - have become outspoken in their criticism of the Administration's foreign policy.


America has achieved, under Bush's command, the extraordinary distinction of not only failing to find the weapons it sought, but then losing 340 tonnes of those it did find.


The President's approval rating is stuck below 50 per cent, which is hardly a ringing endorsement. He can't even be said to be a hard worker. Extraordinarily, considering all that was going on, Bush spent 98 days at his ranch last year.


This compares with the 19 days of annual vacation that President Bill Clinton averaged in his two terms (though comparisons are perhaps unfair as we now know that Clinton took much of his relaxation in the Oval Office) or the 41 days a year that President Ronald Reagan averaged - which, it should be noted, includes his recovery time after being shot. Bush, in short, would seem to have an abundance of vulnerabilities.


Yet it was Kerry who spent most of the campaign on the defensive. The consensus view seems to be that he has excellent hair and a good presidential manner - and these things count for more than we might comfortably suppose - but that these are offset by the more mixed signals that emanate from his patrician bearing and slight air of unconquerable aloofness.


Specifically, Kerry is smart but not endearingly self-deprecating. He doesn't seem wholly at ease with strangers. He is proficient in French - a language spoken, notoriously, by men who sometimes kiss each other on the cheeks and make faithless allies.


He's married to a woman of independent wealth and mind who looks as if she would have to ask a servant where the brooms in her house are kept. When he puts on a hunting jacket or fishing gear, it always looks as if it has come straight out of the packaging. You kind of suspect he doesn't own a single old hat.


Bush is unquestionably the winner in the regular guy department. Like all successful presidents, he is effortlessly comfortable with ordinary people and wholly unashamed to be folksy, and there is no question that he inspires trust among millions. His wife is adored universally.


It's really only his daughters (who look, as one observer acutely noted, like the sort of young women you would expect to see jumping out of a cake at a bachelor party) who seem a little sketchy, as I believe the younger people say, but they have been kept mostly in the background during the campaign.


On the basis of trust alone, I think Bush has probably got the edge.


Still, this being America, anything is possible. This is a country, never forget, where 11 per cent of young adults can't locate the Pacific Ocean on a map, where nearly half of all adults and a quarter of university graduates believe that the Earth was created in seven days, by God, sometime in the past 10,000 years, and where 20 per cent of adults evidently believe that Saddam Hussein not only had weapons of mass destruction but used them on us.


It is often remarked how worrying it is that half the people don't vote. I think I should find it rather more worrying if they did.


In any case, however accurately pollsters track voter preferences, the critical factors are how many people turn out on election day and where the turning out is done. The US presidential election is not really a popularity contest at all. It's about winning the right states and collecting the requisite number of electoral votes.


Al Gore, as I am sure you will have been reminded many times already this week, received more votes in 2000 than any other candidate in history except Ronald Reagan, and still didn't become president.


The most unnerving fact of all is that about 5 per cent of voters make their minds up on election day. They just see how they feel when they get out of bed in the morning. It is these decisive souls who will determine who leads the free world for the next four years.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Dirty Thirty

Happy birthday, my friend. I don't know what I'd do without you.

My birthday wish for you: that we spend every one of your birthday dinners at Tasca, drinking and eating to our hearts' content.

Chin Chin!

Thursday, November 6, 2008

A cry for decency...COMMON DECENCY!

If wanting to avoid a sore throat and cough won't do the trick, then how about a little bit of shame with your public toilet visit?

I mean, really, it's COMMON DECENCY, people! AND the state law!

It makes me wonder... Did the government conduct a study that showed that when left on their own, people weren't washing their hands? And a committee was formed to determine how to rectify the situation... and they concluded that shaming the girl who is disgracefully stopping by the mirror to touch up her lip gloss after she piddled on the seat and forgot to flush was the way to win that war?

I love it.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

The things I hear...

Scene: A fabulous gentleman who lives in Las Vegas is seemingly shouting into the telephone to reach his friend in L.A. ... which I can hear as she holds the phone away from her head and slightly squints at the damage being done to her eardrums...

"How is it that in the state of California a CHICKEN has MORE RIGHTS than a gay PERSON?!"

He had apparently just read up on the fact that both Prop 2 AND Prop 8 passed in California.

P.S. I can attest to all of this, as she with the damaged eardrums is my friend and the gentleman is an acquaintance that I've immensely enjoyed both times I've met him.

The beginning of a very fond farewell

As Bush’s replacement has finally been chosen it feels appropriate for my private celebrations to begin after a long and infuriating 8-year wait. And upon what I like to envision as the American public’s giant boot pushing forcefully on his backside, the nicest thing I can think to say about W The Nincumpoop is that there will not likely be another president in my lifetime who makes me laugh so hard so often. Because when the options are laughing or crying in shame, I most often try to go with laughter.

So, without further ado, heretofore are some of my personal favorites from the total jeanyus who coined the ever-classic, “STRATEGERY.”

"I didn't grow up in the ocean—as a matter of fact—near the ocean—I grew up in the desert. Therefore, it was a pleasant contrast to see the ocean. And I particularly like it when I'm fishing." —Washington, D.C., Sept. 26, 2008

“I am here to make an announcement that this Thursday, ticket counters and airplanes will fly out of Ronald Reagan Airport.” —Washington, D.C., Oct. 3, 2001

“Too many good docs are getting out of the business. Too many OB-GYNs aren’t able to practice their love with women all across this country.” —Poplar Bluff, Mo., Sept. 6, 2004

“Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we.” —Washington, D.C., Aug. 5, 2004

“There’s no doubt in my mind that we should allow the world's worst leaders to hold America hostage, to threaten our peace, to threaten our friends and allies with the world’s worst weapons.” —South Bend, Indiana, Sept. 5, 2002

“There’s an old…saying in Tennessee…I know it’s in Texas, probably in Tennessee... that says Fool me once…(3 second pause)… Shame on…(4 second pause)…Shame on you….(6 second pause)…Fool me…Can’t get fooled again.” —Nashville, Tennessee, Sept. 17, 2002

“The ambassador and the general were briefing me on the — the vast majority of Iraqis want to live in a peaceful, free world. And we will find these people and we will bring them to justice.” —Washington, D.C., Oct. 27, 2003

“Wow! Brazil is big.” after being shown a map of Brazil by Brazilian president Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, Brasilia, Brazil, Nov. 6, 2005

"Then you wake up at the high school level and find out that the illiteracy level of our children are appalling." —Washington, D.C., Jan. 23, 2004

“Rarely is the question asked, ‘Is our children learning’?” —Florence, S.C. Jan 11, 2000


And drumroll please for the long-awaited answer… "As yesterday's positive report card shows, CHILDRENS DO LEARN when standards are high and results are measured." —New York, NY Sept. 26, 2007

Monday, November 3, 2008

Fingers crossed...

Whether you agree with my politics or not, get to the polls tomorrow and vote. Then, go to Starbucks, brag about voting and enjoy a tall cup of coffee for free! (You're welcome.)

The best part of Halloween: Cute Kids

I know I’m a couple of days behind, but hopefully the cuteness of Tigger, Piglet and Pooh will provide more than enough compensation.



And, a picture of my favorite part of Halloween... When my mother kicks the kiddos out of their own house and has them practice proper trick-or-treating etiquette, with the treats being healthy granola bars taken from Popi's personal supply.
Don't they just look so angelic and polite while practicing at their own house?!

Hope you had a happy halloween! I know these three munchkins sure did.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Attempting to live fully

She danced. She sang. She took. She gave, served and loved. She risked and created. She dissented, grew and enlivened. She saw, sweated, changed and learned. She laughed. She shed her skin. She bled on the pages of her days. She lived. - Hershey


Words to live by - or at least the words I often attempt to live by. Commissioned by Teen for a past birthday gift, this quote hangs on a piece of painted wood above the window in my bedroom. I've read it about a thousand times over the years, always experiencing a fleeting moment immediately upon completion of wanting to jump up and dance... tightly hug a dear friend... be bold and quit the job I hate, sell my stuff and backpack around the world... something - anything - that would signify that I was truly living and experiencing - to the fullest extent - this life that I have been given.

Last weekend I hopped on a plane for a weekend away that was one big question mark. It was slightly out of character for the current version of me, but it was worth a try. Then this weekend I sat in the chair at the salon and took deep breaths as my long hair got the addition of pseudo bangs.


Both were risks I was happy to take - and yes, I fully expect that next weekend's adventure will have progressed to be along the lines of parachuting out of a hot-air balloon. Naturally.

Searching for it all high above L.A.