weapons of massdistraction

Wow, summertime has turned me into an absentee blogger. Bad Sharyn! And I feel like I need to finish up my LA stories before I can move on to more current events.

So. A week ago Friday three of us flew out together, but seated in different rows. I passed the time by watching Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist on my iPhone. Upon arrival we were retrieved and whisked away to the Trojan Lounge (I look pissed in that photo but was just sleepy) for a quick introduction/re-introduction to Los Angeles before bed. We even pulled up to find a film crew shooting in the alley behind the club.

After a brief snooze our Saturday was jam-packed! Lucky Baldwin’s for breakfast, a farmer’s market, Intelligentsia coffeebar, The Secret Headquarters (comic book store), a Church of Scientology HQ drive by in Hollywood on the way to Amoeba Records, then on to Giant Robot and a cute store next door, and dinner at Real Food Daily in West Hollywood, where we were just a couple tables over from Jason Statham. He appeared to be having dinner with his parents and, apparently, dines there often. Wonder if he’s vegan? That night we dropped by the giant Whole Foods mothership in Pasadena and rolled past the Pasadena City Hall, which is absolutely stunning when lit up at night.

Sunday was quite busy too. Took the dogs for a morning romp at Pasadena City College. Had a late lunch of spring rolls at Little Saigon. Wandered around for a bit before our appointment at Incognito, where three of us got matching Red Owl tattoos. I’d never been tattooed while listening to Pavement and The Kinks. Hunting for dinner led us to In-N-Out Burger (not for me) and Ralph’s grocery store, which was very Big Lebowski.
Then on to the Sasquatch-themed Bigfoot Lodge, which was very cute, but then over to Little Cave, which is owned by the same folks, and was utterly magical! The entire crowd sang along to Morrissey and Joy Division. And we spotted comedian Brian Posehn on the other side of the bar. He’s even weirder looking in person.

Our last day, Monday, was much quieter and that was just fine. Sometimes lounging around is just the thing. We drove up to Griffith Observatory for a bit (sadly, it’s closed on Mondays but the views are still tremendous). I also got to sample Daiya vegan cheese, finally, on top of a pizza from Whole Foods. So good! Hoping the Wedge will carry it in the near future.

Upon my return home multiple folks sent me this LAist report on allegedly vegan restaurants in LA serving up non-vegan food. Thankfully the only restaurant on the list I ate at was the one that came back clean!

Tomorrow, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Crash landed back into my life late last night with very little deceleration. My overtired child was particularly cranky today, from lack of sleep, and that didn’t mix well with my near-migraine. But it was my own fault he was sleep deprived as I’d asked his dad to return him to me last night, while retrieving me from the airport.

Overall it was another excellent birthday. But, like last year’s, it’s unfortunate how the brief bits of bad can make more of an impression than the heaping hunks of good. I kicked off the morning with my Dad singing “Happy Birthday to Us” (I was born on his 29th bday). All day I was flooded by birthday wishes from people I adore. At work I was surrounded by my Clockwork family and treated to a Punch lunch, then had dinner with my son and a few close friends before going to see Shellac. I do love birthday shows. But notably absent? Any contact from a couple of people I care a great deal about. Not at all surprising, but seriously disappointing. What was surprising - yesterday’s bizarre rash of celebrity deaths, and subsequent strange celebrity death rumors piled on top of that. And tonight I will be landing at LAX in the midst of all the Michael Jackson post-mortem chaos. Alas, I am the queen of procrastination so now it is on to the last minute packing frenzy, for myself…and for the boy, who will be spending the weekend with his bio-dad. But I will not be packing my laptop. I am leaving it behind. Honest. I haven’t been to Los Angeles since 1998 so visiting without my laptop will be sort of 1998-style (except my iPhone is very now, I guess). I’m curious to see how much has changed, and how much of the MJ madness will be in the air. But really, I think Sky Saxon’s death was much sadder. Goodbye, Sky. But hello La-La Land!

Times get tough and I turn to escapism, as always. This week’s stress has rendered me a sleep-deprived disaster, feeling fuzzy and foggy much of the time. Not exactly conducive to productivity. But this altered state of mind has led to even more Netflix Instant viewing, most notably a mini marathon of 30 Rock season three, and Ping Pong Playa. Other things that have caught my fancy:

• AMC’s B Movie Classics
• Andrew WK, in general, but his new show Destroy Build Destroy premieres this Saturday and it’s going to be AMAZING.
• Andy Samberg Hi-Fives a Bobcat
• Angry Cuttlefish Prints, via Cephalopod Tea Party. I want!
• Battlestar Galactica prequel, The Plan
• The Fallen Princesses Project: placing Fairy Tale characters in modern day scenarios.
• A flickr contact created this bit of loveliness for The Loulou and Tummie Exhibition.
• Brazilian tropicalia legends Os Mutantes sign to Anti- to put out their first LP in 35 years.
• Secret Identity: The Fetish Art of Superman’s Creator Joe Shuster - “Joe Shuster, justifiably bitter, got seriously pervy.” (via Isabel Samaras)

The weekend is fast approaching. Hopefully this one sees me catching up on sleep while also including more grown-up socializing (I’ve been in a social recluse rut lately). And some cupcakes would be lovely. And there will most certainly be water slides. Now that’s something.

Things were supposed to be on the calm and quiet tip. Naturally it was a frustrating week of vexing vexation instead. Red Hot Art in the rain was a bust. I’m still upset about my son’s hair being shorn. And the same third grader has been giving him grief at school (which is year-round). I’ve misplaced the A. Lee Martinez book I was enjoying, Monster, right as I was reaching the climax. What happens next? I need to know! NOW! The not-knowing hasn’t exactly been keeping me up, but my sleep schedule was out of whack all week. And I finally subjected myself to the unpleasantness of an annual physical, a year overdue, but won’t have the money to pay the medical bill when it arrives. Funds were already low before this week’s car repairs, but I hadn’t expected to drop over a grand on the Mazda. OUCH. The pocketbook pain. It stings. So yes, a week filled with much irritation and intensified financial woes. First for me but now for my Dad too: St. Paul’s longest-serving police officer must retire at 65, but he doesn’t want to. That’s right, my Dad is turning 65 soon. And the coppers claim they can do nothing about this mandatory retirement rule. Yet if he held the rank of commander, or higher, he’d be allowed to stay on until the age of 70. That seems awfully arbitrary. At least I got some laughs out of the newspaper article. After 42 years on the job the man has some amazing tales. But I’d nearly forgotten about this gem:

Morrow said his most memorable day on the job “was probably when the wolf bit me. I think it was 1982.” He was sent to a bar in downtown St. Paul “that doesn’t exist anymore” on word that someone had brought in a pet wolf and it had bitten a customer, Morrow said.

The wolf then bit an officer who arrived just before Morrow. When Morrow saw the animal, he first thought that “it was a huge German shepherd.”

The officers tried to get the wolf into a then-empty lot behind Mickey’s Diner, and the animal “started coming at me and took a piece out of my knee,” Morrow said. Morrow shot the wolf.

“It looked surprised and ran across the street,” he said. Other officers shot and killed the wolf.

My Dad was bitten by a wolf! Behind Mickey’s Diner, of all places. Did that turn him into a secret werewolf - “part man, part wolf, ALL COP?” He’s clearly all BADASS. Now I’m kicking around ideas for a lycanthropic cop comic book, based on his experiences. If only I could convince him to do the artwork himself. Now that would be a productive (and possibly lucrative) use of his twilight years. Storyline suggestions are welcome.

Bonus: Bruce Campbell’s Top 10 Performances, according to Geeks of Doom.
Plus: Meteorite Strikes Teen’s Hand; He Survives - 14-year-old hit by 30,000 mph space meteorite. Ouch, sure, but neat!
And: Hey Oscar Wilde! It’s clobberin’ time!!!

Is it too soon to laugh about it? The Red Hot Art Festival wound up being a ridiculously gray cold festival…of pain! Well, more like discomfort really. Lousy Smarch weather! Day one had temperatures hovering at just fifty degrees. We huddled under our wall-less tent in the constant rain for TEN HOURS. And too late noticed water had been seeping into some of our framed prints. Day two was better but still fairly miserable. The drizzle ceased but conditions continued to prominently feature the cold and the dank. Yet we endured. If this is anything what camping is like, I’m happy to continue my avoidance of said activity. Needless to say, very little of our art sold. What we did unload was mostly to lovely friends who came out to support our efforts. Adding insult to injury? My son spent much of the weekend with his grandmother who, when picking him up, remarked that it was time for a haircut. I replied that no, the boy wanted to keep his hair long and we were sticking with it. Well she returned him completely shorn, with a buzz cut. And quickly dropped him off out front before speeding away to avoid a confrontation. Good thing too, I guess, because I’m still ready to falcon punch her. Sigh. And today The Kids, from Belgium, announced they were canceling next month’s Minneapolis show. These things come in threes, don’t they? That’s enough disappointment for now, thank you.

On a happier note, Friday afternoon was spent out and about running errands (much of it Red Hot Art related) in the sunshine. The weather was still gorgeous and summer-like at that point, in the 70s. And the lad and I enjoyed our visit to Ax-Man Surplus. At the festival itself I caught up with many old friends, and struck up some interesting conversations with strangers. One guy requested permission to photograph the boots I was wearing (he didn’t seem to be one of the flickr foot fetishists I tend to attract). That will apparently end up over here. And despite my general dislike of talking on the phone, this evening I had another lovely, long conversation with my suddenly Southern friend. He had many entertaining tales to relate but, overall, day one of his new job went well. There are a few ancillary concerns to be sorted still but I have no doubt he will settle into his new life quite nicely.

Bonus: The literal video version of Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart. So perfect.
Plus: Frank Zappa playing the bicycle on the Steven Allen show in 1963.
And: The True Blood season two premiere is in less than one week. Yessss.