Things I suck at

1. Keeping houseplants healthy
Witness this drooping orchid, a gift from a friend. I discovered it in this sorry state after returning today from a weekend in Phoenix, where it is monsoon season. This orchid looks like it's been through a monsoon.

2. Computer-related things
Why my new $20 HP inkjet printer won't work is beyond me. Maybe it's because it was $20 and I bought it off Walmart.com. But I still think it should work more than just the one time.

3. Thinking on my feet
When I was at the airport trying to leave Phoenix, a lovely overzealous TSA agent stopped my carry-on luggage and extracted a small red, Swiss Army knife that I have had since I was 16. I bought it at the end of a summer in Paris in remembrance of a brief romance with a 30-year-old (gasp!) German guy who had used his own, larger Swiss Army knife to prepare us a picnic during a forest hike. This TSA agent sent me back to the Southwest ticket counter, where I surrendered the item after learning that it was too late for my bag, if checked, to make it on the plane.

Later, of course, I realized I could have either (a) Kept the knife and attempted to make it through another, less nitpicky, security line (hey, my knife and I made it from LAX to Phoenix without being hassled), or (b) Given the Southwest ticket lady 10 bucks to mail it to me (Americans are good about stuff like that; consider the cold, hard cash the Nielsen people mail out to households across the country, trusting that everyone will fill out and return those little TV diaries).

Unfortunately for me, I can't think very fast on my feet. I am a brilliant strategist, however, after the fact.

Line dancing and two-stepping

I witnessed a lot of this kind of dancing last night. It was at a country bar in Thousand Oaks that Joey wanted to go to for her 30th birthday, with a mostly white crowd and a sprinkling of cowboy hats among that crowd. I hadn't heard of most of the songs, but everyone was singing along like they were old favorites. It reminded me of the many parts of this country-- and even LA -- I've just never been exposed to.

Was most impressed by a tall, skinny guy in a plaid shirt (pictured here with Joey) who was two-stepping up a storm with every partner he could get his hands on. He was a very good leader, twirling those girls around and moving them real smoothly around an imaginary circle on the dance floor. We called him Opie. There were also these two very hardcore cowgirls who knew a line dance for any song that the DJ could throw at them. Joey (an Oklahoma native and fan of all things country) was very brave and out on the floor for every line dance, trying to mimic their moves -- but the cowgirls were not very helpful. Hardcore, as I said, and too cool for this crowd.

I found myself tapping my toes a lot, but too intimidated to get out there. I would totally consider taking a class. The nice thing about line dancing is you don't have to depend on a partner and yet there's quite an art to it, unlike the solo butt-shaking I usually see in clubs.

Running around Santa Monica

I think I ran about 9 miles today. I'm not entirely sure how far it was because my running group could not make our weekly run, and I usually just follow them. I especially needed Yen, who is our timer and navigator. Without her guidance, I ended up emerging out of a loopy, cliffside residential street onto San Vicente Blvd. and was nearly back to the beach before I realized I had turned in the wrong direction.

We run 7 minutes and walk 1. That's the method of the LA Leggers. I have not joined yet but plan to so I can train for the LA marathon in March. So far, I've been running with Yen and two other people who have trained with the Leggers in the past. Without Yen's interval-timer watch, and with my oxygen-deprived brain unable to do math, my pace was more like 9- or 11-minute bursts of running followed by minute breaks.

I need me one of those watches.

My next-door neighbor is a celebrity

I love LA. I was chatting with my next-door neighbor (also named Brent) today and we got to discussing what his college-age son is doing this summer.

Brent: He's interning at the agency that represents me.
Me: Huh?
Brent: It's a literary agency.
Me: Oh, cool. Um, so what kind of stuff do you write?
Brent: Well, movies.
Me: Anything that I'd know?
Brent: Ever heard of Short Circuit?
Me: I think so. Was that in the 80's?
Brent: And Tremors. Also Wild, Wild West.
Me: Oh, yeah. Definitely. That's so cool. I didn't know I lived next-door to a celebrity.

For those who don't know, Tremors was this pulpy thriller about bone-sucking giant desert worms that terrorize a group of people. With Kevin Bacon and Michael Gross (the dad from Family Ties). Excellent stuff, really. I am so honored to be living next door to the man who helped dream up those bone-sucking giant desert worms. Also, I wonder if he knows Will Smith. :)

My ear for song lyrics

Today I discovered that the catchy "Mystery's Girl, Mystery's Boy" by Nelly Furtado & Timbaland is really a song called "Prosmicuous."

My ability to get lyrics wrong always cracks Brent up, because I'm pretty convinced that I've got the right words until proven otherwise. They may not make much sense, but I hear what I hear.

One of my more memorable misinterpretations: "Do You Recollect" by Prince (AKA "Little Red Corvette")

On another note, I am so sad to find out that this song I've been enjoying on the radio (Stars are Blind) is by Paris Hilton. Seriously?

Curses to Bed Bath & Beyond

Bed Bath & Beyond has very cute stuff, but otherwise I dislike them intensely. They send me tons of those 20% off coupons when I don't need anything. And then, when I do need a coupon, I can't get my hands on one to save my life. A few months ago, I even SIGNED UP to be on the mailing list, like an old lady who wants to receive circulars. And still nothing.

Today, I broke down and bought a quilt for my bed for the summer because I couldn't wait anymore. Left the store with a bad taste in my mouth, all fuming and calculating how much I could've saved if I just had a coupon.

If they're going to give those things to everybody anyway, then they really should just apply a 20% discount at the cash register. Kinda like how at 99 Ranch Supermarket, the checkout ladies just scan their own card for you when you tell them you don't have a club card. Sometimes, Chinese people are just nicer.

Santa Monica street signs

Ever notice the design of the street signs around Santa Monica? I think they're supposed to evoke the beach. blue stripe = ocean. yellow stripe = sand.

Funny how there are things all around us that we never see, until the day we do.

Phew!

It turns out my summer internship company isn't going to the dogs just yet. Not only that, but they have actually started implementing some of the things I suggested. Hooray, beer!

On another note, why is it that I end up taking other people's sayings and expressions? Such as "Hooray, beer!"

It's because I'm easily led, like a puppy.

This is also the reason I was convinced the company was doomed one day and the next day believed it was all going to be peachy. Wonder what strong opinions I will have tomorrow.

Hooray, beer!

Blogs circa 1895

From The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde

ALGERNON: I hope, Cecily, I shall not offend you if I state quite frankly and openly that you seem to me to be in every way the visible personification of absolute perfection.

CECILY: I think your frankness does you great credit, Ernest. If you will allow me I will copy your remarks into my diary. (Goes over to table and begins writing in diary.)

ALGERNON: Do you really keep a diary? I'd give anything to look at it.
May I?

CECILY: Oh, no. (Puts her hand over it) You see, it is simply a very young girl's record of her own thoughts and impressions, and consequently meant for publication. When it appears in volume form I hope you will order a copy.

A surreal day at the office

The startup company I am working for this summer began imploding today. Three of the four salespeople in the LA office took me aside to let me know their last day will be Monday. It was pretty sad news because I liked them. At least they made me part of the in-group before they hit the road.

The afternoon was spent huddled in a darkened office, drinking vodka mixed with organic juice. People exchanged stories about our disaster of a CEO and generally got high off of the act of complaining with abandon. They recounted the time sheriff's deputies put a lien on the company's assets and commandeered the cash register, taking money out to pay off our creditors. The time the CEO tried to kiss the sales manager over one of the many dinners he pressured her into sharing with him. (This was on a day, by the way, when the plumbing in the cafe backed up and the poor cafe manager had to go at it with Drano and a plunger -- unable to call the building for help because we are two months late on rent.) Other people in the office stopped by to listen and contribute their own memories.

Afterward, I went with one girl (who is not quitting yet) to work an evening event. Monday should be very interesting.

I learned a few lessons:

1. Trust your gut. If a potential boss seems kind of untrustworthy and someone you wouldn't really want to be around, chances are that this will turn out to be true.

2. Employees can be good, hardworking and fun people despite being managed by execrable management. (I've been looking for someplace to say execrable.)

3. Don't ignore warning signs. When the first employee you meet on your first day at work answers your question of "How do you like working here?" by shrugging his shoulders and replying,"Eh," this is not a good sign.

Sunset yoga

I'm home now after a session of outdoor yoga. It's every Thursday this month at the Fowler Museum at UCLA, part of a series related to this Dalai Lama exhibit they've got going. Sounds hokey, but it was SO wonderful. The ground on the terrace was warm from being beaten by the sun all day, and the air was cool. An ant occasionally wandered onto my mat, but it didn't matter too much. I wish I could always do yoga outdoors on a cool summer evening. It's much nicer to stretch up toward the sky than toward some ceiling lights. But as with all good things, this outdoor yoga class will soon come to an end.

Going to take up yoga again. I think it'll add a nice balance to my marathon training, which is really beating up my legs and feet. Yoga helps you breathe better, sit up straighter, love your body more. Everyone should do it. I think there would be more peace in this world.

The only thing I have liked about our president so far

"By contrast, Mr. Bush's birthday gala was a low-key affair: a buffet dinner of fried chicken, Cajun shrimp, potato salad and roasted corn, and a large chocolate cake." -- NYT July 6, 2006

I don't agree with Mr. Bush's politics, but I do agree with his menu.

Inaugural

This is my first blog. I'm always a little behind with the technology, but I eventually get there. For example, I was using a really old brick Nokia from 2000 until a few months ago. Okay, so I was using it because my slightly newer brick Nokia (2002) got fried when I visited China and plugged it into an outlet. Now, I have a cool slide Samsung that gets a lot of admiration. My point is that I do eventually get with the times.

So I decided to start this blog because I was inspired by Saujin's. I have to give it a plug, because that girl is a natural funny writer. She'll be mad at me when she reads this because she won't admit that she can write. I don't know when I'll tell anyone that I've started a blog. That's another technological advancement that will take me a while. For now, this'll be the journal that I always mean to keep.