one, two, three and to the four, snoop doggy dogg and dr. dre is at the door...

random musings about my trip to west la...

1. la people cannot handle the rain. granted, it rained an awful lot, but what's up with the traffic lights not working in the rain? this wasn't just at some random obscure street, but major intersections like fairfax and labrea. i attempted to try west hollywood's masters swim practice, but it was cancelled because it was "raining too hard." (!) the hell? like you're gonna stay dry when you're in the pool.

2. appearances can be deceiving. there are nice people in la. while i was waiting for justin to finish his facial at fresh, the overly groomed manager who looked like a tool struck up a conversation with me. we talked not about what club was the hottest, or the lazaro and mccullough's breakup over at proenza schoeler (if you don't know, don't ask), but about going back to schools, moving away from your parents, having kids (he just adopted two with his partner) and suburban sprawl. when i took a class at city yoga, the trophy blonde that irritated me by her mere presence turned out to be an adho mukho vrksasana (handstands) master who gave me some pretty good tips.

3. canters has pretty good pastrami. but it still in no way is nearly as good as pastrami in manhattan.

4. what's the difference between a houseboy and a manservant? that's a discussion that ought to be held at elixir while sipping tea on the zen patio deck in the rain.

5. is it possible to get a table for eight at 8:00 at table 8? how about on august 8th? heh, heh. i'm such a dork.

6. why the hell is there a line around the block at pink's at 1:30 in the morning when it's pouring rain? really, people, it's just a fucking $2.00 hot dog. they're not that great.

7. "ethan" from "survivor" is in no way a "star". no one who appears on a reality show should be.

8. sometimes, the simplest foods are the best things. although fancier stuff may be available to you, sometimes you just want stuff like cheerios with milk, a fat juicy cheeseburger, or ramen with egg.

9. the grand olympic auditorium is in no way grand or olympic. and the security is awful. when a second interloper gets on stage and the bassist has to trip him in order to allow the roadies to wrestle him off, somebody needs to be fired.

10. when my single friends start getting depressed about their prospects and bad dates, i will tell them the story about the guy who sleeps with his car.

11. it's official. green tea is my crack.

12. at a west hollywood house party attended by a mix of art students, business school types and assorted urban hipsters, the guests, once they start hitting the sauce, apparently want to listen not to moody lounge music like thievery corporation or indie flavors of the month like arcade fire, but ghetto ass gangsta rap.