Teasers, Agitprop, and Funnies

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She Kisses me Windy  
Last day.

Bina and I try to set out for Santa Monica. There is an Armenian protest going on that traps us on Bina's block. There is no exit.




I don't know anything about the Armenian Genocide or why this day was chosen to protest. The Armenians were out in force. We saw them all over Los Angeles. I don't have a photo, but at one point Bina saw a motorcycle gang. An Armenian motorcycle gang.

We had planned to go to Santa Monica to see the Ashes and Snow exhibition we heard so much about, but the exhibition was closed.


The inevitable stratosphere self portrait.


Santa Monica isn't ugly.


It was my last day in Los Angeles, and I still hadn't been to a Coffee Bean. I remedied that on the Santa Monica Pier. It could have only been a more touristy move if there were a coffee bean at the foot of the H on the Hollywood sign.

We rode the ferris wheel and had lunch at Sushi Roku. The Ashes and Snow exhibition looked beautiful and calming and if you live in LA you should check it out. Just not on a Monday.

Monday was wonderful, a much more laid back look at the city that I needed after late nights.

Still in the mood for a museum we headed for LACMA, which Somers had named as one of her favorite places in the city.


I've never seen a Gustav Klimt painting up close. Prints don't do them justice. I could stare at the iconic patterns and texture for hours.


His landscapes draw the viewer in. I stood in front of this painting and started to feel like the forest around the apple tree was surrounding me. (I'd clearly been in LA too long.)

We also saw an exhibit called "You Only Live 25 Times" featuring the drawings of Felicien Rops and a site specific installation of drawings by Petra Mrzyk and Jean-Francois Moriceau.


Their drawings are humorous, disturbing, odd, and not for the easily offended.

Then we moved on to the Consider This exhibit, which included an interactive element.

Bina wrote my quote. I wrote hers. (I'm not crazy! The signs really were all around us.)

It was a two Coffee Bean day. Bina showed me Los Feliz, Silver Lake and we stopped for a drink at the Roost. It was afternoon on a Monday, the older crowd was ruling the bar. It was perfect. We grabbed some popcorn and a barely lit booth and indulged in a gabfest.

Then up to Griffith Park for my last view before the airport.


Oh Hollywood.

You golden sprawling eater of dreams. You vicious facade. You ladykiller, you.


I knew you were no good for me, but I still fell for you a tiny little bit.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 1:45 PM

Seems Like the Wrath of the Gods Got a Punch on The Nose and it Started to Flow (The Secret Word for Today is Fantandic.)  
And on the third day there was sleep. But perhaps not enough.

Yeah, I know that title is pretty dramatic, but I'd be doing my boys a disservice if I didn't include lyrics one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.

By this point we were dragging, but we pulled ourselves together to meet Laura Somers at the Griddle Cafe. Meanwhile her boyfriend Peter had a meeting at the Coffee Bean across the street. How L.A. is that?

No too many pictures here, I'm not really a big photographer, but I'm trying to get better. I'm more of a "leave the camera in the car" kind of girl.

The food at the Griddle Cafe was both excellent and plentiful. There was a long wait to get in, and I leaned against the wall outside for support as I struggled to string sentences together, but then the restaurant crier brought chocolate. Once we got a table and beverages the french press coffee straightened me right out. The company couldn't have been better. It was fantastic to see Laura and to get her perspective on the west coast.



Tired on a Sunday afternoon? Female? Try this: Pull out the convertible bed part of the sofa. Throw pillows sheets, and feather bed upon it. Close blinds. Put Pride and Prejudice DVD on the television. Doze to the lull of British voices as they overcome social status and themselves to fall in love. It's like sleeping with football or golf on for girls.

That night we went to Barney's Beanery for dinner, where it was unfortunately Karaoke Night. I can enjoy a good karaoke event, but it's really something one has to prepare for mentally. I couldn't imagine Janis or Jim sitting at the bar enjoying a Karaoke version of Bohemian Rhapsody.

Then we drove around a bit, trekked a bit of the Walk of Fame, Saw Grauman's Chinese Theater, the Kodak Theater (I think Sesame Street Live is currently playing), and the Scientology Center.


Dean and my Shadow.


Bina's Chucks in Johnny's Doc prints.


This one is for Eric. He knows why.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 10:32 PM

You're in the Jungle Baby! (The Secret Word for Today is Pirate Hug. Arr!)  
Saturday we went out to Paradise Cove for brunch and beaching. On the way I saw more of Beverly Hills and Malibu. We brought our swimsuits...that was pure folly. The night before Kevin had offered to teach me to surf, but warned that the water would still be freezing. Next time, I hope. Learning to surf would be awesome, but I'd like to leave California with all my extremities.


We're on the gorgeous beach and we're very cold.


We're just chillin' on a rock. Like people do.


See we really did eat brunch.


The pictures prove it. Although I guess there's no eating in these pictures. Or food.

We had to get back so Alexis could make it to a reading and then to work. There was napping and laundry. No good pictures there.

You remember that Friday night we went to Mr. Chow. Saturday night Bina took me to In-N-Out burger. That's how we roll.

I had seen on myspace that Brently Heilbron had a show when I would be in LA. Brently and friends reenact Trapped in a Closet at M Bar (this article refers to an earlier performance). I haven't seen Brent in years, but in my memory he's a gloriously hilarious genius. I thought maybe we'd run into some Austin folks there. I had no idea.


I never really knew Alex, but I knew people who knew Alex and loved him. I said hello to Rebecca and she said "You ran a marathon!" And that, my friends, is the power of the internet. Or of Pamie.


Jerod in the flesh.





Heath came by, obviously (see pictures above). We went to Alexis' bar where supposedly a CAA party was in swing.


While we were drinking free cake shots and other terrible things, Jamison had arrived at M Bar looking for us. He proceeded with Kevin and Jerod to a tiki 60's theme party off of Melrose.

Now it has been said that we had no idea whose party this was. That isn't entirely true. It was Paris' party. Not that Paris. No, not that one either. He was in a fuzzy hat though. And I know how we ended up there...the house was going to be a location for Weeds the following week and also there were boys from Texarkana there. Obviously.

Also, I met my first USC fan in LA who wanted to talk about football.

It has also been said that the party was seedy. Well, there might have been vomit in the sink. But it wasn't my vomit, or the vomit of anyone we know. Ah, City of Angels.

We did bring the guy with the mustache though.



The red tent photos. They're wearing clothes. I promise.






Where are the eyes of TJ Eckleburg? Also we're retarded. And I'm a muppet. Mahna mahna.

We all finally tired of taking picture of ourselves and retired to the apartment where Heath regaled us with stories of "Jack" and "Tom" and "Jim". There was an attempt to convince me to move to LA. For some god awful reason there was more drinking. When I saw the sun I found Bina's bed and went to sleep.

A few hours later I spoke to Eric on the phone.

"So what do you think?" he said.

"I sort of hate L.A. but I'm having a fantastic time."

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 11:02 AM

I'll Even Kiss a Sunset Pig (The Secret Word for Today is Logroll.)  
I am not a woman who confides in her hairdresser. It is my understanding that most women feel compelled to share their secrets and shopping lists with the person who holds the fate of her hair in his or her hands. I haven't. I have, however, felt that I should be. Around me men and women explain where they've been and where they are going and I feel rude for sitting silently.

So Thursday night while receiving a haircut that was shorter than I had planned, but which I adore, I admit that soon I will make my way to B.B. King's to see Zappa Plays Zappa even though (and perhaps especially because) I have a 6:45 am flight to LA in the morning.

"While don't we leave it a little longer in front?" I ask.

"Dweezil Zappa?" She replied, "I'm giving you long bangs."

"As long as I can tuck them behind my ear." And we're done.

My colleague Phil, Secretary of Zappa, is still at the Jammies when I arrive, but I spot his roommate Sara in the crowd. I also spot Paul Green of the film Rock School and Napoleon Murphy Brock. We stand and wait and wait and stand and finally everyone arrives and finally we get in. I meet more of Phil's friends, including Jonah Smith's agent. Perhaps agent isn't the right title. He promised to ask Jonah his version of the "bachelorette party gig" story and report back.

Now I know we have some purists in the house that look down at any sort of "cover band" experience. To these purists I can only report that Zappa Plays Zappa was great fun, and to hear the songs played with Napoleon Murphy Brock was priceless. While I speak as a babe in FZ, a mere newbie to the scene, it was a good show. Sure, I'd rather see Frank if I could, but I can't. Finally the contingent I traveled with was a dancing crowd, and standing among a dancing crowd is just good for the soul.

A cab back to the apartment. I told everyone at B. B. Kings that I had already packed. I lied. It was a small lie. I had started packing and I knew what else I wanted to bring with me to LA. I threw things into the suitcase. I took things out of the suitcase. I threw other things in, called a car, woke Eric to say goodbye and raced down the stairs.

The Plan was to stay up all night, get my Zappa in, pack, make it to the airport on time, stay conscious enough to get on the plane, and then crash. I even bought an over the counter sleep aid to help the process along once I was in my window seat. I was afraid a full dose would knock me out not only for the flight, but for several hours after. I took one.

The damn skinny chick in the seat next to me repeatedly leaned over the arm rest which I had generously given up and leaned further into my very own sacred seatspace.

I did sleep a bit. The sun was streaming in through other windows and I woke up, drooly and sunbaked. I smelled a bit. I was in sunny Burbank, home of the Price is Right.

Bina met me at baggage claim, took me to the adorable Los Feliz (Hollywood) apartment she shares with Alexis, and let me shower and change clothes. No sleep for the wicked. We're just getting started up in here.

Bina and Alexis take me to Fred 62 for Brunch.

In many ways LA reminds me of Texas. The highways of Houston with the retro cool of Austin. Places like Fred 62 support this comparison. We piled into a corner booth and couldn't talk quickly enough to cover all the stories in our heads. Shane (real name?) came over from time to time to take an order, spread his sarcasm, shake his head, or raise an eyebrow. After we'd had our fill of eggs and fries a bottle of wine and glasses mysteriously appeared at the table. We hadn't ordered it. Shane never admitted that it was his doing.

"This happens to us all the time..." joked Alexis. At least I think she was joking.

We walked around a bit and browsed a bookstore. Then down towards the Miracle Mile to the La Brea Tar Pits, which roughly translates to The The Tar Tar Pits (thanks wikipedia). Along the way I have my first glimpse of the Hollywood sign. It makes me giddy.

Here's a picture of me with the Hollywood sign. Yeah, it's going here even though it's from my last day in LA.

One of my first L.A. landmarks. The tar pit. Smelly natural gas trapped below the surface bubbles up.

Seriously, what is up with the tar pits?


Is this where Bog People come from?

We abandon the tar pits and walk towards the museum where you can see fossils and learn interesting facts about the tar pits. We learn that this privilege costs $7 and instead play with masks in the giftshop.

Alexis is a sexy bear. Rar.

Then we went to see what was on the roof of the museum and discovered the perfect hill for logrolling.




Some come for fame. Some come for fortune. I came to Los Angeles to roll down a hill.

Where...? Where am I?

We shook the grass from our clothes and did a little shopping on Melrose. When all the shops started to look the same it was time to return home for a little nap. Alexis had to get ready for work and we had to prepare for a dinner at Mr. Chow.

We sleep. We get ready. We're waiting to hear about a reservation. We're in.

On the way to Alexis's bar Bina points out landmarks of interest. Chateau Marmont. The Comedy Store. The Whiskey. In-N-Out Burger. I am such a tourist. We arrive at Alexis's bar where I meet her coworkers, we establish that breast implants are prevalent in this part of town, and we drink for free. I spill a little martini down my shirt. Hey, I'm in LA, but I'm still me. Luckily the shirt is black and no one notices.

Then it's time to go around the corner to Mr. Chow. Even though we have a reservation it's a wait before we're seated. Probably more famous people enter and are seated immediately. There are a few paparazzi milling about outside. Inside Kate Hudson dines with people I assume are her friends. We joke that they should have googled us before we arrived. Things won't be like this when we get our imdb's baby. When we are seated the maitre d' tells us he is giving us the Presidential Suite of Tables. It's in the upper right corner of the restaurant. Our huge party of two takes the huge corner table. Nicollette Sheridan and Michael Bolton dine in the upper left corner of the restaurant with friends. Kate Hudson is finishing up dinner in the bottom left corner with friends. I'm not sure who was in the bottom right corner, but according to the gossip rags it might have been Julie Newmar. There are a group of ragamuffin guys sitting at the table closest to us that might be in a band. The waiter asks us if we'd like to see a menu or have him choose for us. We agree to let him choose.

This was the dinner when I first began to realize how different L.A. is from New York. I had already noticed that when we drove, everyone driving past looked in our windows. (It's to see if we're someone famous, Bina explained). But at Mr. Chow, people at neighboring tables spoke to us. In New York we look at our shoes and go out of our way to pretend not to notice celebrities. At restaurants where tables are uncomfortably close, I sometimes hear conversations pick up where mine left off, but we don't often engage with strangers.

Since we had no idea what we were getting or what it would cost, we were amazed and petrified at the handmade noodle floorshow. As the pasta was twisted and pulled the band next to us asked if we'd ordered noodles.

"I have no idea," I said. And then to Bina, "Noodles! That's another thousand."

Luckily the noodles were not for us, and the food was good and not nearly so costly as we feared. We pay and take our leave.

I didn't even think about pulling out my camera, but here is the picture I wish I had: As we left we were met by a crowd of paparazzi all facing the door, ready to pounce. Luckily, being nobodies, that was the end of that, but frankly the sight was terrifying. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if all those bulbs were flashing. A reminder that I don't need to be famous. After we left we realized that we should have taken a picture of them. It wasn't worth going back for.

Well fed and still mulling over the quick table/paparazzi trade off, we headed towards Rick's in Santa Monica where we met up with Kevin, his wife Leslie, and Jamison.
Kevin and Jamison, with Leslie's arm.
Kevin had just finished filming the finale for CSI Miami. You've seen the ads. It's the one that will "Change their lives forever!"

End of Day 1.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 9:09 PM

Los Angeles, I'm Yours?  


I'm still recovering from the fun of Los Angeles with Bina and Alexis. Here's a preview in pictures of the long weekend.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 2:31 PM

Straight from the Monkey's Mouth  
It's old news. Still. Through a timely set of circumstances (and the camaraderie of friendship) I found myself in the company of Tom Cavanagh and Larenz Tate at the opening night party of Judy Greer's Show People last night*. Tom had just shot a promo for Love Monkey at VH1. It starts Tuesday and while no new episodes have been ordered, the 8 finished episodes will be shown.

*Yes, that is a pretentious sentence. It wasn't that awful in real life. They were both with their gorgeous very significant others and were gracious as could be.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 6:03 PM

Shining Like a New Dime  
This is what the beginnings of a do-over look like.

Permalink posted by Maxwell at 12:40 AM