Someone stole my shoes.

No, really. Someone jacked my shoes. Someone from the US Postal Service is rockin' my jewel blue patent leather stilettos. And sky blue strappy sandals with buckle hardware detailing.


Really? Almost, but not nearly as bad as the Really? reaction I had when a guy's best delivered line to me was, "Do you know what Mamacita means?

Seriously.  That's what he said.  (Scene of the crime was The Mayan in downtown Los Angeles, in case you were wondering.)

Who would steal used shoes? And one shoe from each pair, at that?  (Now that's what I'd call a heinous crime - going through another person's mail and stealing one shoe from each pair - other people's pettiness will never cease to amaze me.) Will put the pictures up. As soon as I find the camera charger from one of these boxes.

Mental note: call US Postal Service on Monday.

There were almost twenty boxes I had shipped to my parents' house from LA. I opened most of them already and have been busy with all the organizing and sorting. Picture frames didn't fare so well. Dunkin' Donuts ground coffee made it without a hitch, though.

The mess of boxes? The biggest ones have been opened, emptied, sorted, and recycled. I think I have maybe 5 or 6 boxes left to organize.

I've been busy making To Do lists. And yes - there's still plenty left on the list. I could resort to feral anxiety at all the work cut out for me, but instead, a strange nonchalance at doing things in a pragmatic way has surfaced via those checklists. (Wondering if the nonchalance was bred from the LA lifestyle I just left.)

Weather, and I'm moving to Prague.

Tomorrow's high is 53 degrees Fahrenheit, with a low of 34. LA? 66/56. Prague? 45/35. I suppose laying low in Philly is a good warm-up to Prague. (Irony, I know. I kill myself sometimes.)

People keep telling me about how much more extreme the cold will be in Europe. Oh yeah - I'm moving to Prague - not sure if I told you this already. (Don't worry, folks in my personal and professional life ended up hearing about it the same way. I was going to tell you - are you sitting down? Hey, babe - I need to tell you something. I'm moving to Prague.)

Back to the weather - yes, I know it will be even colder than Philly. Yes, I know - my body is now used to the sunnier and warmer days of mild-and-virtually-no-weather-and-no-distinct-seasons Los Angeles. Believe me, I know. Waking up the day after flying back East and piling on the sweaters. Walking around the streets today during the evening in my new goose down coat (I'll put a picture of this up, too - who says travelers have to sacrifice fashion for function?) I became all the more aware.

This whole time I've shrugged it off - yes, duh, it will be cold. Yes, I've been living in Los Angeles for years. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be wearing a lot more layers. I usually just tease people for complaining about any of the mildly chilly sweater weather that SoCal experiences. I gently deride the wimpiness of their stamina.

The temps in the city of brotherly love feel frigid to me - but I know this isn't even the tip of the iceberg (Oh, irony! I must be on a roll) - it's only early November, after all.

I'm actually concerned.

It's disconcerting.

Oh yeah - will be putting up a new website for my Prague travels - will keep you posted once it's up and running.

The City and Country Beaux. And, COTW of TV.

The City and Country Beaux, Francis William Edmonds. [http://www.metmuseum.org/special/americanstories/objectView.aspx?oid=3&sid=3]

Consider the above painting (it's currently on exhibit at the LACMA). Reflective of society at the time, Edmonds' portrayal illustrated the rivalry that existed among the city and the countryside folk in the mid-19th century.

The woman has two suitors, the gentleman from the countryside sitting off to the side of the room, and the gentleman from the city off to the right, more sharply dressed. The orientation of the city gentleman in closer proximity to the woman, suggests that she may prefer the city man as opposed to the more brutish countryman, whom sits with a more crude posture and is juxtaposed next to the door, suggesting that he's likely on his way out.

Interesting. Something to think about.



COTW [crush-of-the-week] Stylewatch
The sources of inspiration for this edition of COTW has derived from fictional characters prevalent in television. Let's take a look, shall we?

Toofer, 30 Rock. Clean, sophisticated, fresh. Preppy. [Photo: http://www.tvguide.com/tvshows/30-rock/photos/281135/95866]

Vincent Chase, Entourage. He doesn't make all the most fashionable choices, however, he is constantly rockin' the bedhead-and-I-did-not-put-any-effort-in-dressing-myself-yet-it-looks-nice-on-me look.  Must be the babe magnet quality of nonchalant confidence.

Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Lots of black and leather. A tall glass of dark and brooding.

Shawn Hunter, Boy Meets World. It was the hair. All about the hair

On a completely unrelated note, Javier Bardem works at Porto's Bakery in Burbank. OKAY - it's not Javier, but someone who looks a lot like him. Is he attractive because he looks like Javier Bardem, or is Javier Bardem attractive only because he's Javier Bardem?

Going Out and this week's COTW

The long holiday weekend brought some much needed relaxation and overindulgence of pie and such. Went to a recent outing with the chicas this weekend. Ate too much food on Thursday, reluctantly yet somehow made it to the Glendale mall on Friday morning, with a little help from un café, and hit up a salsa club. Oh yeah - went to my local cineplex to start catching up on holiday flicks.
Notes to self: Porto’s tuna melt is delicious. Do not shop on Black Friday. I heart coffee.

COTW
More attraction factors – boosting the attractiveness quotient.

Sweater under leather-jacket paired with ripped-up jeans combo. I could make out with those antique-rinse weathered jeans.
Saw August Rush this weekend. Jonathan Rhys Meyers, how adorable are you?! (Thanks, wardrobe supervisor Pam Aaron.) His character in the film was rockin’ the heathered rollneck sweater under camel leather jacket, with a pair of faded jeans that have seen its fair share of good days and bad. You’re killin’ me, Meyers.

Salsa dancing. Okay – basically any gentleman whom is truly schooled in the steps, is not rhythmically challenged – and – well, that’s pretty much it. Oh yeah – if you have bad breath and are not packin’ the Altoids – stop talking to me so much – please keep the mouth closed and dance.
Some tips and tricks as far as salsa goes: when men lead and know the steps, it’s a five-star event. It may be fun for you to turn the lady those 360 degrees, but not so much for her when experiencing back-to-back turns and a dose of vertigo. Dance with care.