Los Angeles - a reluctant relationship? [a mini-post]

Friends know when they're going to stick. There's the flaky friend, the friend you go to for fun, the friend you go to when you need a serious conversation and opinion, the friend you go with for concerts, the friend you share your artsy afternoons with at the museum, the friend you go to for professional advice, the friend you talk to for dating advice.

Staying in LA has become somewhat of a reluctant relationship - I'm sorta sticking around, not really happy with the situation, but too scared/lazy/tired/trapped to get to know anybody else.

Such high highs and low lows - say, aren't most abusive relationships that way?

LOTW [lines-of-the-week]
Maybe we just need that resource, or helping hand to reach out, should we need it. As Author Richard Ford described:

"the Gideons leave Bibles in cheap hotel rooms, as a way of saying to the hapless inhabitant: 'In case your reckless ways should strand you here, there's help.'" Well put. Where is that Bible of mine?

COTW [crush-of-the-week]

Bedhead boys. 'Cappy' from Greek. 'Nuff said. NOTE: This is a deviation from the usual clean-cut, well-dressed gentleman portrait from which I usually derive many of my COTW notes. There are always exceptions to every rule.

WOTW [word-of-the-week]

wonky. (Wonky's a WORD?! I'm betting someone made it up and it somehow caught on.)[www.webster.com]
Etymology: probably alteration of English dial. wankle, from Middle English wankel, from Old English wancol; akin to Old High German wankōn to totter — more at wench
Date: 1918
1 British : unsteady, shaky
2 chiefly British : awry, wrong

The No Sweat Yoga. Aging Conversations. Fantasy.

Just walked away from my first ever yoga class.
Conclusion: I am not mature enough for yoga. Can't stop laughing. AND why don't we turn the lights on? My goodness. I don't feel like I did anything - breathing. It was more of a breathing class. Ah well. I have signed up for this nine-week commitment and I will ride it out.
Addendum: I'm more of a high-intensity workout personality. Pounding on a treadmill, pumping iron, rolling out the crunches; in other words, painful sweat sessions.

Aging Conversations
Older Friend: Why don't you girls go out dancing lately? I don't understand - you're young - why are you guys tired all the time?
Me: First of all, we are all busy. Second, I'm trying to accomplish other things in life simultaneously, i.e. studying, saving money. Thirdly, I'm not initiating social outings anymore.
What I remembered later on was: We're young but we work really hard and sometimes we're completely spent.

I am too old to go clubbing. I'm not talking about salsa clubs, but the uber-trendy somewhere-on-Cahuenga-Blvd.-joints . Life is short, time is priceless. I am too old to deal with the bullshit of waiting in a long ass line outside of a barren club.

Fantasy.
I've noticed that people fantasize around here. A LOT. I thought it was interesting that it happens often or maybe I'm just picking up on it. Hypotheticals of a Sugar Mama/Sugar Daddy or If-I-Won-The-Lottery tangents. I wonder. Perhaps if LA wasn't based on such superficial and costly ideals it wouldn't be as rampant in these parts.
Financial power is something we'd all always want more of. Maybe I'm just a bit too realistic to spend time thinking about that. The odds aren't in our favor. And even if those odds happen to transpire in your lifetime, what is it really? Aren't you just alienating friends and family, and getting directed to the bracket of the population with a higher suicide rate?

Post-Halloween Slug, Search for the Great Escapes

It feels like it's been awhile, so I don't expect too warm a reception from my three readers of this blog, things have been busy, sugar-laden, and rather unfocused, as may have been apparent in recent postings (and still lingering herein).

I did manage one for the successfully achieved nightlife books. I managed to make it to a friend's Halloween party, without a hitch. i.e. I didn't fall asleep after I got home, changed and showed up in costume, didn't leave after 20 minutes. Instead, ran into a bunch of familiar faces, and, indeed, had fun. Score one point for the candy monster.
Now just recovering from the weekend of costume partying, concert-going, and movie-watching...
It has also come to my attention in a violently traumatic experience that a certain pair of jeans no longer fit me. Let the workouts of need-to-drop-a-few-before-I-fly-back-East-and-see-family-for-the-holidays begin.

The Search for the Great Escapes of Los Angeles has begun...and so begins my favorite places in L.A. that are, essentially and ironically, the spaces that serve to help me get away from the city. I could begin my list here, but then, that's how best-kept secrets never keep their status...

It's already underway. Trust me on this one

Words, phrases and general social behaviors that should not be used. It's verbal pollution, y'all.

crapper. i.e. The economy is in the crapper.
What a coarse word for a coarsely described thought.

that's why. No, that's not a complete thought. I'm soooo sick of hearing this one. Just say 'yeah'. This has become the new 'like' of today's vernacular. Ne-yo and I are both sooo sick of it.

I love footage of people celebrating. So exciting. Euphoria is contagious. The commotion of people all smiles, jumping up and down, dancing, screaming out of excitement and positively-charged emotions. Who would have imagined ten years ago that Obama would be our nation's next President?

New day. Brand new.

Are there no happy renters in Los Angeles?

Recovering
Huge blow to the apartment search yesterday. I'm still recovering. I don't even know if I can fully express how stunned and disappointed and pissed I was (and still am) after waiting for my roommates who were twenty minutes late and finding that the apartment we were about to look at and literally steps away from had been rented out ten minutes earlier. I know.
Stunned. Upsetting. Still stunned and upset and disappointed. I could say crushed, deflated, crestfallen. I don't even know which to express anymore. I'm drained. Disappointment can be catastrophic to morale.

Revisiting the road of living by myself and paying a ridiculous amount of rent for that possibility.

Are there no happy renters in Los Angeles ?
I've already found that most people in the greater Los Angeles area, aren't truly happy with the apartment that they're living in. A quick look at apartmentratings.com (and chatting with any renter you know) quickly reveals the truth of the matter. Sloppy paint jobs, incompetent and unreliable management, and a slew of roommate issues to sort through or put up with until one leaves in lieu of life-changing events (marriage, profession, purchasing property, family events). Noisy pets, traffic, and gardeners, cantankerous neighbors, leaking water in adjacent alleys, pervasive aromas from nearby businesses.

And parking! You know how hard it is to find an apartment with parking?!

Breakaway. The Ideal Gentleman Continued.

I need a break from disappointment.

How much time have has been wasted by your flaky, self-absorbed Angeleno frenemies?
I want three years of my life back.

The Ideal Gentleman - continued...

Must be punctual! If you want to impress, you show up on the dot.

Must be clean.

Must not be swathed in cologne such that people in your surroundings are smothered. A faint scent is quite the COTW move.

Must use face wash. Seriously! How many men out there do not wash their faces with a legitimate skincare product? Not talking about bar soap, not talking about the body wash that's already in the shower. No, its not metro, not gay (are all guys in la-la land homophobic?). Its HYGIENE.

Cuts his hair!

Takes out the trash AND replaces with a new trash bag.

If he must be late, must have some sort justified occurrence to have been late. If I'm sitting at a table at a restaurant waiting for your trifling booty to get here, then it better not be for a stop at the florist's for yours truly. Time is more valuable than a few stems that'll die in three days. No triple-confirming with a slew of phone calls. Don't be sorry, be on time.

Why is it the hardest thing in L.A. to get people together in one place at the time they said they were going to be there?

Sigh.

My dream roommate & apartment posting. And new COTW!

Roommate Wanted
Professional twenty-something seeks roommate with similar status. Roommate must not be crazy, dirty, loud, an alcoholic, socially awkward, or an only child. Roommate must have experience living with other roommates. Must not be a moron. Must not have pets, children. Must not have "third-roommate" type boyfriend or girlfriend that stays overnight constantly.
Must-haves: Personality, courtesy, trustworthiness.

Pluses: Speaks additional languages, eats different ethnic foods (i.e. doesn't mind the smell of foods cooking in the kitchen), enjoys going out with friends but also enjoys relaxing at home. Avid watcher of The Office, Heroes, Project Runway, Mad Men, 30 Rock, or The Food Network. Enjoys movies and at least somewhat knowledgeable about pop culture.

Apartment: Must have private room and bathroom, central air, walk-in closet, balcony, laundry on-site. Must not look depressing, outside or inside. Ugly carpeting must not be present.
Location: Burbank/Studio City/North Hollywood. Must take no longer than 10 minutes to get to work. Ideally close to decent eateries. Peace and quiet must be the norm in the neighborhood. Building must not be next door to any working business that has landscapers coming in like clockwork on Saturday mornings at 7:30am. No construction must be in progress within two blocks. No bugs, standing puddles of water, or streaming water from nearby locations must be present.

Required: Parking spot (covered, gated, and not tandem!) Also parking for guests must not be a hellish ordeal.

COTW
Okay, I know it's been awhile - but the potentials for COTW have been incredibly dry lately, which is why I haven't had any to blog about.

Diego Luna. Boyish and charming. Que delicioso. Saw Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights (yep, that's right) and who knew? Something about the cute ones that know how to salsa dance. Seriously not sure why I never noticed him onscreen before. Will have to watch Y Tu Mama Tambien again to see what I missed.

In Fashion: the black-and-whites. Black tie, black jacket, white button-down shirt. Bottoms: antique jeans or matching trousers. With a clean set of Pumas or Chucks. Simple, classic, yet comfortable and adds a splash of cas.

Bring it, '08

It's been awhile since my last post - there have been a few setbacks in these past few weeks; specifically, my laptop withering after three faithful years. After trying to call during Central Mountain Time operating hours and a considerable wait time, I got through to a customer service representative at the conglomerate consumer computer giant known as DELL. Apparently they charge for service repairs - to even get your computer looked at - there is a $199 cost up front, and then of course, the cost of your repairs. I wince at the news. Struggling temps cannot shell out this kind of cash without batting an eye. $100 quite possibly may always be a large sum of money to me.

Academia
I have been resorting to visiting my neighborhood library and taking a number to use the 55-minutes-or-less-in-duration computers on hard-backed, wooden, un-cushioned, do-not-fall-asleep-in-here chairs. If I am lucky, I get a computer wedged in between the loud breather on my left and the we-can-all-hear-the-music-playing-with-his-headphones-on-guy to my right. Hopefully it won't happen again.

These local biblioteca visits remind me that I do enjoy libraries. Quiet. An escape from the noise of life. The thirst for knowledge. All things scholastic and studious. Intelligence. A wave of nostalgia, of those undergraduate years on the fifth floor of the Gelman in D.C.

Holiday in LA
So I've begun breaking up my sedentary lifestyle. It has been a painstakingly slow process. (I'm fighting my desire to hibernate in the cold, windy season in Los Angeles.) Especially when there's no heater in the bedroom or bathroom of our apartment. Honestly, heat is a basic human need. Los Angeles homebuilders of yore, what were you thinking?! This isn't Jamaica, mon. Yup, I said it.

Also - there isn't enough decent Christmas music to put up on the airwaves. Play something we know, guys. Some recent Christmas pop albums. I'm sure there's something audibly delectable from Josh Groban. Ne-yo's falsetto-infused singles just don't get me in the holiday spirit. Pretty damn catchy, though. (I have also been fighting the uber-adhesive quality of the musical stylings of Rihanna. I have since given in to the notion. Gah.)

Oh, jobs
Been out interviewing more lately, before Christmas week, but nothing too spectacular has emerged. I think this year I'm thankful I've survived this year, strike and uncertainty of life and all. Maybe I really should sell all my stuff and work for some sort of travel abroad organization. Or at a Catalunyan gastropub. Or join an Unemployed Anonymous group. Thoughts?

Peeves: Sleepers in public places
These locales include: bookstores, libraries, airport lounges, buses (who in Los Angeles rides buses?), shopping malls, church pews.

Anxiously Awaiting
New eps of Heroes. And who knows when that's going to happen?
Permanent Employment. Well - who really wants anything to be completely permanent? The phrase drips with demasiado finality.

This Year's Lessons & Reminders

I am not my job. The "what do you do?" question plagues us all.

Never take calls from telemarketers if you can help it. Take that, LA Times. I wonder if all canceled account holders get removed from your calling list. I hope to never get a phone call from you ever again. Also - is Toluca Lake the LAST stop on your route? Sometimes I got the paper before 7am. Sometimes not until after 8:30am. What's that about? But don't call me to answer that question. My desire for the answer is not greater than my desire to never hear from you again.

MTV does not play music. Stop checking to update yourself on music videos only to find none there. How much more of The Hills and Newport Harbor does America really need? The mainstream public disappoints me.

Visiting the Grove is a double-edged sword. The pseudo-quaint-inner-city-modeled shopping complex is enclosed, walkable, and immerses me in abnormally attractive yuppie crowds. Yeah, it's nice. Just don't let me forget to get parking validation.