Carmageddon: The Aftermath

Dear Los Angeles,

So I see you that have survived the feared inferno of “Carmageddon”. You rocked the happy hour specials. You steered your four wheeled vessels clear of the freeways in fear of losing your ever so precious time sitting parked on the freeway for hours upon hours.

You chose to not clutter the streets with aggravation. For a few glorious days, there was a silent peace decorated on asphalt. People were drawn in droves to the otherwise bickered about public transportation. There wasn’t arguing with the hurried commuter in the other car, bike, or motorcycle trying to get to x function. There were no stretched necks as accident after accident piled up to make the drive home from work, play, or errands a little longer. There was less noise and pollution.

The 405 is opening as I type this. It bids one to wonder if the community has learned anything from this exercise. How will the Los Angeles community change? How have you changed for the greater good?

Los Angeles once had the greatest public transit system in the world. Nowadays, people dread the thought of taking a bus, a train, or a bike in lieu of a car. This weekend proved that the community here is so ambivalent to change that, rather than embrace the possibilities of other alternatives, would rather just not participate at all.

This weekend Los Angeles biker community advocates Wolfpack Hustle embarked on a 40 mile race against an airline proved the power of the human versus the machine. In a race won by pedal pushers that generated substantial buzz, why are the Los Angeles bike paths lacking in comparison to other major metropolitan cities?

Now that Carmageddon has come and gone, as a business person, are you going to take heart the relief and production capabilities of a happier worker that has not had to “deal” with traffic for one day? Are you going to provide more of an incentive to take public transit?

As a regular commuter are you going to make a more proactive attempt to take public transit when you can? Will you take an extra few minutes to walk down the street to that cafe for brunch or the extra few blocks to the grocery store?

It’s time the community took a big look at the bigger picture. We have the power to carve this city into something greater if we unify ourselves. Time is a precious commodity but so is a calmer, healthier way of life. Instead of putting one in front of the other, perhaps both are capable of happening. Dare to be a part of the change.

A girl. A bar. A story…

Taken from a yelp review I wrote about my favorite bar and this incredible weekend:

Anyone that knows me knows when I say I’m at “my bar” this is where to find me.  This is hands down my favorite hangout spot- weather I just want a drink and catching up with a couple of guy friends for our weekly relaxer or if its prowler night and want to get shitfaced for really cheap.

Once upon a time a girl went here to just let her hair down and relax and met…
there’s awesome people at this bar.  The crowd is your normal set of characters, but there’s a few wildcards too.  It’s not somewhere where I would say is where you should go if you’re after the best/hottest catches- as there are quite a bit of cougars and some hipsters that seemed a bit out of place…
this is not where I would ever expect to meet a guy.
But, well you never know.

This place has a lot more to it than cheap, well mixed drinks.

There’s a photobooth in the back that is perfect for sneaking some make out time, a fireplace to cuddle up and talk… and of course, a dance floor, and kareoke.

This is where my best friends birthday party was.  This is where we brought friends who were in town from E3.  This is where I’ll buy my kid brother his first drink.

It’s a touch of what’s real in Los Angeles.  It’s my little version of “Cheers.”
Where everyone worth a damn already knows your name… especially *you.*

/end soapbox

Douchebag of the Week! Username: Rearview mirror schmview mirror

It seems that most of my douchebag of the week blogs have been about people being complete dumbasses on the road.  Yesterday’s run in (literally) was no exception.

I was making a run to my local post office on the bike to mail some postcards:  the Netherlands, China, & 2 within the US.  It’s very close to my house.  I was in a hurry to get there before it closed- as I waited until the last minute to go, so I hopped on the bike.

I was walking across the street after I’d finished my buisness to witness a woman in a minivan parked in front of me back into my scooter.

I screamed:

“You hit my bike!”

Now, for those of you that don’t know how big my bike is, here’s a shot of it parked in my garage.

It’s pretty big.  The lady had to walk past it to get into her minivan.  The fact that she didn’t take the 2 seconds to look in her rearview mirror to check behind her is just repugnant.  What if there had been a small child there?  Squish. Crunch. Splat.

Oops?

Therefore this week’s douchebag of the week goes to you miss oblivious to the outside world driver lady.

Notes: my bike is fine.  She tapped it with her bumper.  Perhaps me screaming at her across the street and another guy witnessing it so she didn’t just run away helped her not do more damage than she could have.  No one was injured at all in the making of this douchebag of the week blog…. except hopefully her “pride” in being an excellent driver.

The list blogs: Lessons learned on my first night ride out

It’s been awhile since I’ve graced the grid.  The beast is huge, ridiculous to park, and a gas guzzler.  It makes for yet another annoyance whenever I want to go anywhere in LA.  I am grateful for it, but it comes with consequences.

I’ve been doing some major cutting back on social networking events to hone in on responsibilities and ongoing tasks.  Fret not, there’s much in the pipeline… I have confidence that I’ll be fine.  I appreciate your patience in the interim.  Until then, anything that I go to will be extremely limited so that I can conserve financially and get back to the point where I can do even more than I did before.

With the newfound “joy” of being on the job market again there really needs to be.. well a sheet that I have in the works for you.  Stay tuned for that in a later edition.

I took 2 time outs for myself yesterday.  I met up with a gentleman for some food and conversation.  I must say that I had a good time.  It was nice to get out and laugh a bit without any pressure.

It’s been awhile since I’ve been out with the girls though.  Last night I was invited out to 2 things: a “passion” party a friend was having and have drinks with 2 lovely ladies that I haven’t seen in what seems like forever.  In order to avoid a cliche irony of “the day I get divorced I go to a Mary Kay sex toy party” I decided on the latter.   Sorry to the friend who got roped into hosting that party.  No pun intended.  (Ps, please send me the catalog and let me know what I missed)

I was eager to get there and catch up.  It was only in Century City- a whopping 4 miles from me.  But I get lost in a paper bag.  It’s another reason why I don’t care for using the truck if I can avoid it. (Sounds like another list blog in the works)

Here’s what I learned from my first night ride out on my new scooter:

• Always write down the number, level, and color of where you are parked in the Century City shopping center (wow what a maze) because if you thought finding a car was difficult, a bike is that much worse.
• My full faced helmet will not fit in the trunk of my scooter.  So the likelihood you will see me pull up in one to an event later is pretty small.
• Hot tattooed guys notice biker girls.  Especially redhead small ones with two extremely attractive women walking with them, regardless if they have a big jacket on or what.
• U turns are really not that bad
• Cars are annoying and they’re impatient.  That said, I’m glad I’m on my bike because it lets me get away with having to be less patient and at the same time more aware of my surroundings which will make me a better driver in my car.
• going through cars is pretty exhilarating.
• In a worst case scenario, you really don’t need to bother paying at those gates on a bike.
• I know exactly who I can call in a worst case scenario at 12am to ask for directions or questions with my bike.  (Thank you Baron for helping me get home last night.  Sorry I fell asleep on the phone after I got home, but you can understand why.)
• The ride might be quieter, but is amazing for reflecting.  Anytime I get down about anything I “pray” it isn’t raining.  I know where I will be… on the road on my bike taking a time out.
• Getting lost is more cost effective on a bike.  Apparently I get 60 mpg and it cost me a whopping $4.04 to fill up in Beverly Hills.  That’s… well wonderful.

Sometimes in life you just have to get the courage to do things.  It might be scary at first, but that’s what life is really about in the end.  A little bit of fear when tapped on correctly will enhance the experience and make you stronger.  I’m going to learn this city just yet… and thankfully it won’t cost me a ton to do it 🙂

Douchebag Alert! Username: LA raindriver asshat

Dear Mr. LA raindriver asshat,

I was on my way to work EARLY for once the other day in the rain when you absolutely had to cut me off.  You realize that my truck could have ripped through your piece of shit little plastic beat up Honda if I just hit the gas when you attempted to cut me off right?

However, I decided to forgo being late for work with that drama, and let you go ahead anyway.

For those of you that don’t know, there are 2 lights when going onto the 405S from Venice Boulevard.  They are also the worst and slowest left turn lights that I have encountered thusfar in all of Los Angeles.

Thanks to said douchebag, I was 10 minutes late for work when I was supposed to have been early.  He was the last car to be able to get through the first light and the weasel somehow managed to catch enough luck to breeze through the second one.

I, however, was fortunate enough not only to catch both reds, but I didn’t get through the turn on the first green on the second light, so got to wait some more!

So congrats LA raindriver asshat guy.  You are officially awarded the douchebag of the week award.

But as a sidenote, this award could have essentially been anyone.  I don’t know a single person in LA that doesn’t drive like a douchebag… well, except for my roommate.  That said, if you’re ever looking to get into the blog, there’s plenty of opportunities to take the title.

—-

And now it’s time for beers with a hot boy, who’s not a douchebag… even if he runs a certain red light everyday.  He can get away with it.

in the name of entertainment!

Dear inconsiderate and shallow people of the greater Los Angeles area,

I understand that the fire might not be near you or your friends.

I understand that you don’t care to hear about it constantly on your favorite networks because you’d rather watch your coveted soaps.

I sincerely thank you for giving back to the economy with that new HDTV to better your television consumption.  It’s a good cause and it makes for solid jobs for my friends.

It breaks my heart because your programming is interrupted by the news coverage.

It breaks my heart that my boyfriend and the many other people who work within the entertainment sector to produce your beloved shows are coughing through the smoke and forced to work extra hours to try and get the shots they need because of the fires.

But you’re right, scrolling text should be sufficient for the news.  Like when your neighborhood catches fire and you need to evacuate.  Maybe you’ll get lucky and catch it as scrolls past your screen.  Or maybe you’ll be too busy in the other room getting popcorn.

So thank you for your complaints about the fires.  Thank you for belittling that person who just lost their home due to a natural disaster.  Really, it shows a lot about you.

Sincerely,

just a girl who cares about her fellow neighbor, but also loves entertainment

Cheating/ Mission complete

This is just a small blog to say… Horray!  I met the goal.  NaBloPoMo for the month of August.  And man what a ride it was.

I don’t think that I could have picked a better month to do it either.  The move to LA has been a rollarcoaster of adventure, heartache, passion, debauchery, and of course… lots and lots of business.

Who knew so much could be jam packed into 1 months time?  It really makes you take a step back and think.

I am making more commitments to myself on a daily basis.  Yes, that’s me trying out that other c word.  It’s a biggun.

I am finding that I am becoming more and more dedicated and focused as time goes by.  I am learning where exactly it is where I want to be, where my heart is, where I am headed, what I will or will not put up with.. etcetera etcetera blah blah blah blah yadda yadda yadda.

Love.

“Hate.”

I never really hate anything.  I honestly believe that that word should be abolished.

On that tangent, I also believe that the word love is overused too.

The things and people that I can say I genuinely love, I can count on one hand.  The fact that it’s more than 1 finger leads me to believe I am incredibly blessed, in as blessed as a non religious person can be.

Life is an adventure.  I am learning so much everyday.  I want to learn more.  I crave it.  It will happen.

NaBloPoMo was more than just a month of consistent blogging to me.  It was a dedication and personal commitment to myself.  I was successful. I am successful.  I have the potential to be even more successful in all areas of my life if I only work hard for it.

Is it bad to be your own number 1 fan?  Hell someone has to be right?  Scratch that.  I’m my number -4 fan.  For some reason I’m blessed by 3 beautiful children who rank higher than I could ever imagine…

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Settling, but not quite settling

There’s a difference between giving in and giving up.  Knowing when to do each is something that only life lessons can truly teach you.  This year has been full of those such experiences.

My love affair with this city… it’s the story of true unconditional love.

It’s been a long but epic week.  I’m waiting on a callback about a position I’d applied for.  I’ll know later today.  I wouldn’t be starting until Monday if I got it.

I didn’t make it down for the blogger meeting.  I was sidetracked with an opportunity.

A friend of mine twittered about needing some help with casting for his webshow- Frenchmaidtv.  Now if you haven’t seen this quirky and sexy little series, I really must insist that you go there and watch.  When I first found it, I understood immediately why it was such a hit.

I came to California originally for the same things it seems everyone here comes for.  Ah yes, I came out here for the entertainment industry- the mecca of of smoke and mirrors manufacturing.  Sidetracked from that a few years… life has a weird way of bringing you back to your roots.

Two birds, one stone.  I had the chance to help someone deserving and learn some lessons in the process.

Life is a series of windows.  Not doors, windows.  Because I believe sometimes it takes more effort than just walking in a door.  Sometimes you stumble across an open window, take a glance, and have to find some way to climb though.  Holy crap I sound like I break and enter now.  ***I am not responsible for any breaking and entering cases caused by this blog***

I’m a rebel but not a jerk.

That said, when you are fortunate enough to stand on a platform and take a look into a new world (being this short, I need a stepstool to see in those high ones), you take it without hesitation.

My view of Hollywood had been tarnished.  That day, it revitalized the zest I had all those years ago.  I am forever thankful to Tim for letting me tag along.  It was something I will never forget.

One love postponed to rediscover an old one.

Hollywood, the honest view from this inside outsider:

It is exactly as it looks from the outside.  It’s shallow.  It’s gritty.  It bids emotion exist and remain non existent.  Broken dreams.  Made dreams.  Hardened hearts for a reason.  Tits or GTFO.

The 405 was a parking lot.  I left later than expected.  Not surprised, but there was no way I was going to make it home.  There’s fashionably late and then there’s just damn late.

Another friend of mine called me:

How adventurous are you feeling tonight?

Pornstars.  Kareokee.  Only in LA.  It was the perfect ending to a day chuck full of breasts, plastic, and hollywood.  It’s amazing how real something that screams fake can be.  Puns intended.

Like I said, they manufacture these moments in Hollywood though.  It’s like a drug.  One hit- and you’re hooked.

I haven’t been able to sleep much.  I’m a workaholic.  I have too many projects to work on.  Not enough time.  I’m pushing 36 hours in a 24 hour day.

There’s a difference between giving in and giving up.  Knowing when to do each is something that only life lessons can truly teach you.  This year has been full of those such experiences.

Those sentences echo in my mind.  I am making peace within myself.  Time to make the outside match the inside.

I wrote a message to try and push a restart button.  I wanted no harm, no foul.  Once upon a time, I’d like to believe we were friends.  Perhaps we never were.  Perhaps it was all just about the heat.  So why was there so much passion?

“Behave yourself”

I didn’t need to hear that.  Have I screwed up in the past?  Yes indeed. I am human and admit that part of the reason it failed was because of me.

I rolled my eyes a bit at the statement and lol’ed.

Heading down to San Diego… another swimsuit.  Gassed up in my bikini.  Iced chai with whipped cream and cinnamon on top.  Late leaving… but fashionably on time.

I changed on the drive down.  Driving with just your breasts at 90mph is probably not something I’d reccomend doing.  Scratch that.  Hell it’s worth doing once.  ***I am not responsible for the accidents occured by this blog***

The thing about being home is that even when things happen, they seem to have little to no effect on me.  I didn’t cause any ruckus despite what happened.  And as much as I’m sure he’d love for me to be “that bitch” and air all the laundry, I’m more mature than that.  And frankly, I only partially care.

If you love something and you let it go and it comes back, it was yours.  If not, then it never was.

You can tell your friends that I was a never was.  You can spout assorted gossip about me.  Get nasty.  Do whatever.  It’s your life.  I don’t tell anyone how to run theirs.

The truth lies in that vast space of stars and time.

I’m not innocent.  I’m not better.  I’m just not pandering anymore to the manipulative bullshit.

I wish you all the best of luck in all that you do.  I know that you have the power to be successful.  I have faith in you despite it all.

I love you for the lessons you taught me.  About life.  About business.  About how a relationship should and shouldn’t be.  I always will.

Goodbye my “friend,” my “lover,” my Mr.-Never-Once-was Mr-Likely-Will… blank blank dot dot dot.

When random is routine

Once upon a time…

I often get lost on purpose. There seems to be a comfort in the unknown. Of the excitement and fear of going missing in an urban jungle.

I told my friends I’d be there in 20 minutes, but once I saw the glow, I was drawn to it. Maybe it’s ADD. Maybe I’m just a constant tourist.

When I lived in IL there was a road that went past an oil field. Nothing but wasteland and metal and a straight stretch of road. Familiar.

I remember looking up at my daddy in pigtails and loose teeth…

“Is this a city? Is this where you work?”

My dad always worked downtown. Your stereotypical corporate banker. Horrible taste in any decor. Suitcase. Double breasted.. not pinstripe. Style and him were never paired, and he didn’t care. Hell all of his socks were the same color so he doesn’t have to make an effort making sock pairs.

Awesome. I always hated making sock pairs. It was the dreaded family chore we’d put off for months. 3 kids. That’s a shitload of socks. And that’s why the only ones I own have obnoxious designs and patterns on em. Well, not all of them. I went to a catholic school… I love argyle socks. I guess that makes me a bit weird. or cliche. or both.

But back to the tale.
Years later. I learn to drive. It’s actually a main road… or pseudo main road. It was somewhere I had to drive all the time. You could speed down that road. I love to speed. Bad bad bad.

A little secret. This was my piece of solace. This was my piece of… unconventional detox. Zen in a city of lights.

Sunday night on the way to my friends place for amazing homemade pizza, olympics ceremony endings (truth be told I really didn’t care but my friends found it gorgeous), booze, a favorite movie of the crew-beerfest, and Civ4.

I hate Civ 4. I love the Diablo series. But who the hell doesn’t. Not my style. But whatever. Give me an RPG or an MMO any day. Lan party? FPS it up. Frag frag frag.

I got consumed by lights. I don’t know this city. I’m constantly lost.

Which one of you cares to be my personal GPS or come along for the ride?  Srsly I would adore it if someone bought me a GPS- my roommate would love you too.  I need to start a fund.
I’ve been here 5 weeks. So much to blog about but not enough time.
I want to work with casting. (There’s a story coming about that too)

I want to be a suit. Omg I’m my dad… but with a much much cooler job. Or.. well um.

Broke artist. Rich in dreams though.

They say that people are in exactly the place that they should be.  Months ago when San Diego fell apart.. Wow.  I am just a vessel- taking the wheel to wherever it guides me.

Because I don’t have GPS 😉

To be continued…

Dear Hollywood,

I’m learning I have a love/hate relationship with you.  Some days I really understand what Marilyn meant when she said.

“They’ll pay you a million dollars for your kiss, but a penny for your soul.”

I’m still getting used to the city here.   I have seen the grungy dirty vision of Hollywood.  Wiser… I know better now.  I felt as if perhaps that spark of Hollywood was really more of a myth than a reality.

Thank you for today.  Thank you thank you thank you.

You restored my faith.

Now if you’ll excuse me, in celebration of this… I’m going to go to Burbank for some Kareokee with porn stars.

Full story to be contined…

Love (at least for today),

J