Who's Pressing the Fast Forward Button??

Honestly, it really feels like life is in fast forward these days. Even the flight attendant on the flight home tonight sounded more like an auctioneer as she spat out the standard "here's how to fasten your seat belt" safety messages before we took off. (I swear she didn't take a single breath during the entire speech.)

It's already 9:30 pm and all I want to do is relax a bit and take a deep breath, but even though I just walked in the door, I already feel pressured to get organized for my next trip (I'm leaving again Friday) by unpacking (so I can re-pack), sorting laundry, paying bills and emptying the latest moldly casualties out of the fridge. And I'll rush to get all of that done so I can rush off to bed by a decent hour, all so I can bound out of bed in the morning to rush to the office to begin knocking things off of a fresh "to do" list.

What is that saying again? Something about it not mattering whether you win or lose the rat race, you're still a rat...

I think it's time to locate the "pause" button for just a little bit...

Not My Best Week

Here are the highlights (lowlights?) of this week:

-- Got kicked in the you-know-what by the flu last Saturday night, making me miss the Long Beach Grand Prix on Sunday and resulting in a sick day from work on Monday.

-- Got on a flight Tuesday morning (probably shoulda stayed home an extra day) and paid the price during landing when my ears screamed in protest at the changes in air pressure. They continued to whine the rest of the day and everything sounded like I had water in both ears. (I had no idea that a sore throat could cause swelling that could wreak havoc on ears during flying -- I didn't have any congestion, so I thought I was safe. WRONG.)

-- My Calgary Flames lost in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup quarterfinals and the freaking game wasn't even on TV -- even though I was in NoCal and the Flames were playing San Jose. (As an aside, America, what is your DEAL? At least bring the NHL playoffs to some sort of mainstream channel, if not the regular season.) I listened to the game via 66CFR ("The Voice of the Flames") on the internet.

-- Went to the doctor on Wednesday afternoon and got some hardcore medication which made me feel sick to my stomach. Lovely.

-- Woke up Thursday morning only to find out that I had nearly completely lost my voice. Nothing above a whisper was possible. (Funniest thing was that everyone at the office has been whispering back at me, even though THEIR voices are fine.)

-- Due to lost voice, had to cancel a fun dinner Thursday night with a good friend whom I have not seen in ages. I figured pantomiming my way through dinner was something that neither she nor I would enjoy. (Plus, I suck at charades.)

Looking forward to seeing what NEXT week will bring!

Photographic Evidence

Ok, Ok, here is the one and only photo of me and any semblance of a tattoo, either real or otherwise. Actually, I kind of like the temporary thing because I can change it up whenever I want. Although, as it wears off, it's not exactly that attractive looking. At least Special K got a few laughs out of the whole thing.

Dove on a Roll

Dove just launched a new microsite with MSN and it features all of their short films (including my "Fried" video!)... Even though I know I'm biased, I really do appreciate the fact that not only does Dove use real women in their advertising, but that they also take the beauty industry head on and aim to debunk the myths about beauty that Hollywood and the media have helped create and enforce.

You've probably seen the film "Evolution" which was a tremendous viral success, but you may not have seen the other two and they are definitely worth checking out. "Onslaught" urges parents to reinforce healthy beauty-related messages with their daughters in order to combat the literal onslaught of unattainable images that we are bombarded with every day.

And "Amy" shows how we are our own toughest critics -- and generally without any good reason.

All the videos can be accessed here.

My New Tattoo

Now THAT got your attention, didn’t it?? (I suspect that it REALLY got my Mom and Dad’s attention and that they are now shaking their heads, wondering where they went wrong.)

This is a testament to exactly how backblogged I am -- I am about to recount events from almost two whole weeks ago.

Two Saturdays ago, Mike and Alfredo graciously agreed to join me at Mercury Bar on 9th Avenue to watch the UCLA Bruins in the Final Four, even though neither of them are particularly huge basketball fans. After a disappointing outcome to the game (don't EVEN ask), we met up with Stephanie and off we went to a great little cabaret/piano bar called Don't Tell Mama (on 46th between 8th and 9th). Except we weren't there for the piano playing -- we were shown through the main bar, and into a dark back room for something called the Poole Party, an award-winning comedy show. Mike's friend, Cathy, was performing that night and we went to provide moral support (and to be entertained, of course!). And because the four of us sat right in front of the stage, there was a healthy amount of conversation (I won't say heckling) going back and forth between our table and the various comedians. (I think Stephanie and I were once referred to as "cheerleaders" -- Go TEAM!!)

Afterwards, we scooped up Cathy the Comedienne and headed to 8th Avenue where we got scooped up by a bouncer/doorman who lured us into Rendezvous for drinks. (Said bouncer is apparently going to be on the next season of Dancing with the Stars.)

Rendezvous is where my body rendezvoused with a rather sizeable temporary (yes, Mom and Dad, just temporary) tattoo out of Cathy's tattoo book. The funniest part is that the tattoos were all for librarians (Cathy used to be one) and so the giant heart and vines now adorning my lower back were graced with the words "Book Lust" in a Gothic-looking font. Yeah! (I think Cathy chose the one that said "Read or Die".)

And because we just hadn't done quite enough that night, we made our way over to the East Side to a karaoke bar where we only got a chance to do one song because it was so busy -- we belted out Journey's "Don't Stop Believing". Mike was absolutely right -- successful karaoking is all about song selection. The crowd LOVED us. (It may have been because the karaoke operator turned the music up loud enough to drown out our actual voices.)

The Signs of Spring

The weather is still a tiny bit shaky, as if NYC is a nervous bachelor who can't quite commit to the permanence of Spring yet, but even in spite of the fluctuating temperatures, there are still a number of signs that Spring has indeed sprung:

-- The restaurants whose doors and windows remained tightly shuttered against the cold winter are starting to populate their sections of the sidewalks with tables and chairs, waiting for the first brave diners to request outdoor seating. (Down the street from my office, Serafina even leaves fuzzy, cozy blankets folded over the outdoor chairs in order to further entice diners.)

-- The temporary fruit stands are popping up on sidewalks, next to the ubiquitous hotdog and coffee carts. I was so happy the first morning I saw the familiar face of the fruit vendor who sets up shop two blocks away from my office. It's on my walk to work and I almost always stop to get a couple of fresh bananas and maybe one other treat for later in the day.

-- Even though many days are still only about 55 degrees, open-toed shoes and bare legs are starting to appear on a regular basis. Women who have been bundled up in tights, leggings and boots all winter can't wait to bust out of their winter wear and the slightest hint of a sunny day brings out the sandals and the wrap dresses from the back recesses of closets all around the city.

-- March and April are also when the tourists begin to appear in the city in earnest again. This tends to coincide with the rash of spring break weeks happening all across the nation. New York is ALWAYS busy, but in January and February, there is a noticeable decline in foot traffic.

-- One of the happiest indications of spring are the brightly colored tulips that have seemingly appeared overnight in planters on almost every street. I imagine the penchant for tulips has something to do with NYC's New Amsterdam beginnings. I'm sure glad that custom survived -- the trees are not yet green, so the flowers are a more than welcome burst of color in the concrete jungle.

-- And of course, it wouldn't be New York if the warmer temperatures didn't bring with them the familiar stench of garbage that's been sitting outside just a tad bit too long.

Happy Spring!

Random Updates

-- The valet did not lose my laundry -- they actually delivered it in stealth and hid the big behind my door. Where it sat for two days before it was discovered.

-- Broke down and finally tried Tylenol PM to battle my consistent cases of east coast/west coast jet lag. Fell asleep on Friday night and didn't move for about six hours. Bliss.

-- Took Special K to the Earthen Oven for dinner last night. I think he's sold on Chicken Tikka Masala.

-- Had the BEST cheesecake EVER today at wee Ryan's birthday party -- made by the talented Sia. Honestly, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to eat anyone else's cheesecake again.

Backblog

backblog [bak-blawg, -blog]

-noun

1. A reserve or accumulation of ideas for blog entries: A backblog of ideas that I haven't had time to write about.

-verb

2. To accumulate in a backblog: Ideas are starting to backblog faster than I can write about them.


What good is having my own electronic soapbox if I can't coin my own words? :-)

A Bit of Randomness

-- I love it when the housecleaners come, but I always spend the next few days "discovering" where they put stuff "away". I am currently on a quest for my toothpaste.

-- Just started realizing that NYC ATM vestibules have a markers up the insides of the door frames, so that if you get mugged while getting cash, you can tell how tall the perpetrator is as he careens out the door with your hard earned money in HIS pocket.

-- I think the valet lost my laundry. It's not looking good.

-- Tylenol allergy medicine makes me incredibly sleepy.

-- The bouncer from Saturday night at Rendezvous is going to be on the next season of "Dancing with the Stars". Apparently.

-- Special K is in Pittsburgh for the Pirates' home opener -- and then is coming to NY!

Stairway to Heaven, Jiu Jitsu and Jagermeister

Four Jiu Jitsu fighters walk into a bar…

Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, doesn’t it? The punchline had something to do with someone emptying the contents of his stomach into a mostly empty Tostitos bag, so I’ll let you be the judge.

Last weekend, Special K’s buddy, Dave, was in town from Oklahoma City for a Jiu Jitsu tournament and stayed with us for a few days. Another common friend (and Dave’s former co-worker), JD, came down from LA and bunked in for the weekend, too.

On Saturday night, we rounded up a limo, piled the four of us plus four of Dave’s Jiu Jitsu teammates into it, and headed up to the Sunset Strip for an evening of random music at the Whisky-a-Go-Go, a Los Angeles icon where bands like the Doors, Janis Joplin and Led Zeppelin once performed.

The whole night was a bit surreal… from the girl wearing the “I’m a Whore” t-shirt (JD and I poked each other at the same time with a pointed “Did you see that??”), to the off-key surfer boy band playing when we first arrived, to the drunk guy with the long hair whom the bouncers forcibly removed. More than once. The headliner that night was a tribute band called Led Zepagain (get it? Zep – AGAIN. So quaint.) with a flaxen-haired Robert Plant doppelganger and band straight out of the 70’s.

But honestly, the best entertainment of the night had to have been the random collection of Jiu Jitsu Oklahomans with whom we found ourselves.

The poor lads had mostly been starving themselves to “pull weight” (i.e. get down to the right weight for their respective classes) and as it turned out, one guy had only eaten a tablespoon of peanut butter and 100 oats each day for the previous five days before the fight – and he still got disqualified for being overweight by half a pound. That’s right, HALF a pound. As a result of the spartan diets leading up to this night, within about the first two sips of their drinks, the boyz were already starting to see double.

From Chad-O, we heard “I’m a writer-director, making things happen here in LA” about 20 times. He’d lean over and ask one of us what we did for a living, we’d tell him, he’d nod his understanding and then less than three minutes later, he’d ask again.

“So, dude, what do you do?”

“I build cars.”

“Sweet.”

Three minutes later:

“Hey dude, what do you do?”

“I, um, STILL build cars.”

"Sweet."


At closing time, we rounded up the Jiu Jitsu team (no easy feat since by this time, they were scattered around the bar, trying to get phone numbers and head-butting each other and anyone else who would stand still long enough) and took once last headcount before giving the limo driver the thumbs-up to head home.

Jiu Jitsu team captain, Ty, left most of the contents of his stomach on the sidewalk in front of the Whisky (classic), but between there and his hotel, he also made good use of the almost empty Tostitos bag from which we’d been munching on our way there. (At the same time, our Writer-Director friend -- who kind of reminded me of Silent Bob, actually, except that he never shut up -- broke out the bottle of Jagermeister, the smell of which almost made me throw up.)

I'm not sure I'll be able to eat Multigrain Tostitos for quite some time.

My First Time

Yesterday, I spent the better part of the day making my way back across the country to New York where I believe I will be for about the next week and a half or so. (I think.) I flew Virgin America for the first time, deciding to check out their relatively new cross-country service.

Overall, I was pretty impressed with the airline:

- When you board, the whole ambiance is very a hip, mellow nightclub vibe with the purple mood lighting (no joke) and the Buddha Bar-type beats pulsing subtly in the background.

- The in-flight entertainment system is similar to that on Virgin Atlantic with lots of choices of TV programming, premimum programs, movies and over a thousand music tracks. (I built a play list of about three hours of music to listen to since my iPod battery was dead.) You can also IM passengers in other seats and order food through the system.

- The planes themselves are brand new with cushy leather seats and for once, no grungy tray tables.

- Unlike JetBlue, Virgin America does have a first class section, so presumably you could earn upgrades through their frequent flyer program.

Overall, I thought the experience was pretty good, especially since the ticket counter staff, gate agents and flight attendants were actually all quite pleasant and helpful -- no surly looks and no attitudes.

The only thing that I didn't really like about it was that there was relatively little legroom. JetBlue always wins out on this one. On the Virgin flight, once your neighbour in front of you decides to recline her seat, your nose is literally only about six inches from your TV screen embedded in the back of her chair.

Let Sleeping Trash Lie

Ok, here's something random.... I just got back to my hotel and when I turned the lamp on, I saw a piece of paper lying on the desk. Not that unusual, except that this piece of paper was one that I had crumpled up last night and tossed into the trash bin. Apparently, some over-achieving chamber maid fished my balled up note paper out of the trash and oh-so-graciously smoothed it out for me and left it just in case I had tossed it accidentally.

This threw me off so much that I actually had to have a very close look at the trash can to make sure I hadn't mistaken it for some piece of uber-modern, minimalist art.

Too bad I'm checking out in the morning -- I could run some interesting experiments to see what (if anything) is worthy enough to actually remain in the bin.

My Kingdom for a Slice of 'Za!

One of the things that I have grown to appreciate about New York (and clearly have even begun to take for granted) is that there is literally a decent pizza place on practically every block of the city. So, when you have a little 'za craving, you are always literally within stumbling distance of a hot gooey slice of pepperoni and mushroom.

Today, however, I am NOT in New York. I am in Silicon Valley and I was hit with an acute case of pizza craving mid-afternoon. After work, I set out on my quest for dinner, thinking it would be pretty easy to find a casual little pizza place. (Clarification: a pizza place that was NOT Pizza Hut or Dominos.)

Wrong.

I cruised around Sunnyvale, scanning every corner and every strip mall.... and then... ah ha! I finally saw a sign for a pizza place, pulled in, parked the car and practically skipped to the front door, only to see a small sign on the door that said "Fresh Pizza! For Take 'n Bake!"

Ahhhhhhhhhh.....

What am I supposed to do, warm it under the heat lamp in my hotel's bathroom??