Hey, another wrecked economy. Who wants it?

Ahnold might have been the Terminator, but come on. Rob Lowe was Youngblood.

If only Arianna Huffington had a public forum to trash anyone willing to throw her hat in the ring to become the next Governor of California. Oh wait.

Tsk tsk, Arianna. We’re not bitter about 2003, are we?

I confess, I don’t have that much invested in California yet, but I must say I’m looking forward to the 2010 California gubernatorial election. (In TV terms, please know that I’m still on the fence about Robert’s decision to run for governor in this season of Brothers & Sisters. COME ON! She’s having a BABY!)

I don’t know about you, but when it comes to politics, I’m not big on the “who would I rather have a beer with” meme. I want a leader who is obviously smarter than me. Someone on a completely different level than me. Someone that I would cringe at the thought of having a beer with, actually.

eBay’s Meg Whitman definitely fits into the “smarter than me” and “I would never have a beer with” category. (And I must say that #11 on her 25 Random Things is kinda messed up.)

Who knows. I may get bored with this election in a few weeks. Maybe I’m just using this election as a way to fill the void from missing out on being in the most important city on the planet last month.

Hey, all this talk reminds me. I have to file my taxes. Not that I’ll be getting a check from California anyway.

Come to California: Where your ankles are always warm

I found this one by Googling "ice slip."

My sister told me she busted her knee walking in to work the other day because she slipped on some black ice.

(Random digression: Say black ice really fast and it sounds like you’re saying black guys. I love Mad Gab.)

Now I know it’s only been a little over 6 months since I moved here, but it actually took me a few seconds to remember what it felt like to have to deal with that crap.

I was a walker in DC and remember hating every minute of walking in the rain or snow or sleet or hail.

I remember having freezing ankles all day at work because my pant legs became soaked with melted snow after making the 1/2 mile trudge to the office. I remember having to hold my umbrella sideways to fend off stinging hail pellets. I remember running down Connecticut Ave. on rainy days to try to be the first to stand in the one dry corner of the bus stop overhang.

Never busted my knee from falling on ice, but I sure know what it feels like to have weather ruin your whole morning.

It’s expected to dip down to 60 degrees this weekend. Out here, that means it’s time to bust out the jean skirt, Ugg boots, and pashmina scarf. It’s gonna be a cold one, ladies.

LA Art Show Does Not Disappoint

Wish I had a notebook this big.

Free blowouts by Fredric Fekkai salon (who, by the way, gave out great goodie bags), strong cocktails, good people watching (hipster girls and gay guys wear really awesome shoes), music, and a whole convention center full of really good art. Overall, an awesome event.

Funny how out of everything there, this piece stopped me in my tracks. It’s a piece by pop artist Michael Scoggins (who actually has a permanent collection at the MoMA) and it’s basically a huge sheet of hand-drawn notebook paper with what seems like a little kid’s handwriting.

Did some Googling to find the inspiration behind this collection (I’m not one to talk to artists like my Dad) and found this explanation, which is exactly what I hoped it would be:

The Artist’s “canvas” is, in fact, a large notebook sheet, complete with spiral bound edges and hand drawn blue lines, which he offers up wrinkled and dog-eared. It is a universally familiar image which he now elevates to a monumental 67 x 51 inches. He enlarges the sheet, creates a new perspective for us, and in the process, imbues the familiar images with a new sense of importance. He demonstrates vividly, and in heroic scale, how he is affected by American popular culture and world events, and how those forces have shaped all our lives.

Scoggins infuses his unique works with a tactile component. He selectively tears, crumples and folds the sheets, giving the images a sense of history as he simultaneously establishes the works themselves as objects, expanding the definition of traditional drawing.

Really cool.

This one cracks me up:

I feel like I wasn't supposed to see this.

Ode to local news reporters covering the Obama inauguration

"You're over 10 years old? Sorry, not this report, buddy!"

Dear local news reporters,

Why must you insist on airing ridiculous answers from kids on what this inauguration means to them?

A few of my favorites from the week:

9-yr-old Adam tells KTLA, “I don’t really know why people voted for him. But I do know it’s cool to have a black man as president.” (1:10 mark).

That’s what we like to call an unintentional backhanded compliment. Thanks Adam!

When asked if she’s happy we’re getting a new president, 5-yr-old Vivian answers, “Yeah.” Why? “Because it’s the one I voted for.” (1:43 mark)

Wait. Hold up, Viv. You voted? For an “it”?

Little Johnny tells the LA Daily News his thoughts on Obama’s inauguration. “So at first I thought we’d actually see Obama, like, the whole body. But then when I heard there was going to be, whatever, like a thousand people there, now I’m thinking we’re just going to see a corner piece of his head or something.” (1:13 mark)

I have no idea what you’re talking about or what this even means, Johnny.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not this guy. The problem is not that these cute kids said what they said. It is cute.

But, in the words of Seth and Amy – Really?

The O.C. (Not really, but close enough)

Welcome to the O.C., bitch.

Okay, quick tidbit on that last song on my playlist. Yes, it’s the theme song from The O.C. Which, if you’ve never been to Orange County, it’s the only frame of reference you have for this area. (Okay, I lied, it’s either this show or The Real Housewives of Orange County, right?).

But wait, let me alter your universe for a second. I came across this site a few months ago that really kinda P’d Me O: Just around 2.5 percent of that show was actually filmed in Orange County.

WTF mate.

Harbor School, the very Orange County-esque private high school that serves as the centerpiece of the entire show, must be somewhere in Newport Beach, right? Um, no. It’s actually Mount Saint Mary’s Catholic private college which is high up in the hills of west Los Angeles (Brentwood), just above the Getty Center.

Remember the Christmas episode where Marissa Cooper (and her fabulous acting skillz) was caught stealing at South Coast Plaza mall (which, coincidentally, is right across the street from where I work)? Nope, it’s at the Manhattan Village Mall in Manhattan Beach.

The pier diner? Nope, doesn’t exist. All those scenes were filmed at The Redondo Beach diner in Redondo Beach.

The famed Mermaid Inn, where Marissa’s mom and her caveman-like ex Luke carried on a sordid affair, and where Ryan Atwood’s Chino-loving ex-girlfriend Theresa stayed to hide from her abusive boyfriend (ahh… I miss these storylines.). Nope, it’s some motel in Long Beach called the Beach Plaza Hotel. It’s not anywhere near Newport.

So there you have it. Sorry for being such a Debbie Downer about all this.

Time to go watch the 12 foot swells coming into H.B. today. At least that’s real.

Super awesome California playlist

On my drive home yesterday from work I stumbled across the 10-song playlist I created to get pumped for my moving day. (Hey, how many times have you wished for that perfect song to be playing during a major life event?)

So, at the risk of sounding super cheese, here are a few songs from the list in all their glory:

Coconut Records – West Coast
Soul Kid – More Bounce in California
Mamas and Papas – California Dreaming
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Californication
Phantom Planet – California

I remember that 2nd one being perfectly cued up when my sister and I came across the crest of Superior Avenue and saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time. And I must say, it was quite the perfect little theme song.

Still waiting for a local favorite

Find the peach pantsuit.

It’s been 6 months since my move and I still know every jingle of every local commercial in the DC/Maryland/Virginia area.

“At Eastern Motors (Motors)… Your job’s your credit (credit)…”

That grating woman who sings the Mattress Discounters jingle.

The JOHN C FLOOD ones with that lovely out-of-tune theme song.

And my personal favorite. The motherload of them all. That DC Lottery commercial featuring the “Godfather of Go-Go” Chuck Brown singing a “little ditty about the D-C-Lot-teryyy.” I swear every time I heard the beginning of that guitar riff, I bolted into the living room to mute the TV.

So. Now that I’m able to enjoy TV for the first time in Orange County (thanks to PJ for giving me the gift that keeps on giving for Christmas this year), I’m now privy to what this lovely county has to offer. But I’ll be honest, I haven’t found one that’s really stuck with me.

But check this out. I just learned that that freaking JEWELRY EXCHANGE commercial airs in every city in the country! Who knew. They just switch out the name of the city and boom, it’s good to go… and to think I thought the one that aired in Bethesda only featured women in terrible peach pant suits because there’s actually an enormous population of women in Bethesda who still think peach pant suits are socially acceptable.

Anyone know of any good ones out here?

Why California doesn’t care about Tuesday

Lyndon Baines Johnson and Lady Bird cut a rug at the Inaugural Ball, 1964.

Seeing that the Presidential inauguration is next Tuesday, I figured now would be as good a time as any to come back from the dead and start posting again.

Whohoo! I’m back! Cue applause sign. Aaaand SCENE.

So. Here I am in the OC while DC is ablaze with preparations for the Big Day.

(Whoa, for a split second there, I was thinking to myself, “Hmm… maybe I should have waited until after January to make my big move to California.” But that’s just stupid. It was 80 and sunny here today. It’s gotta be like 9 degrees in DC right now. Scratch that.)

So, you might ask, does anyone in California even care about the inauguration? Which balls/parties will be the place to see and be seen? What Ms. O will be wearing to the inauguration ball? Which crazies are planning on protesting? (YES! The Post’s inauguration blog says that the Code Pink crazies will be out in full effect that day.)

In a word, no. I had to remind someone the other day of what next Tuesday was. And then I remembered that this is how California sees the rest of the U.S.:

I think this means DC falls somewhere in between loud & obnoxious and religious nutballs.

Musings on dudes in suits

Imagine living in Aspen and never skiing a powder-covered slope. Or living in Napa and never tasting a drop of wine. Living in DC and never walking the steps to the Lincoln Memorial.

You don’t even have to think about it. You just know it’s what you’re supposed to do.

Over time, you come to realize that there are those who “get it” and those who don’t.

The other night, I met a 40-something suit-wearing Orange County-lifer who obviously fit into the latter category.

“So wait, why would you leave DC?” he asked. “It’s so much fun there. There’s so much culture and so many things to do.”

And then he said something that threw my mind into a tailspin. “You must think it’s so boring here.”

“Boring?”

I was in disbelief. Did he know something I didn’t know? Will I hate this place in a few years? Is it going to suck once my “I-still-feel-like-I’m-on-vacation”-mode wears off?

I had to get to the bottom of this or I’d be agonizing over it for weeks. Then it all made sense. I asked him if he could name the last time he spent a day at the beach.

“Oh, man. I don’t know. A couple years ago?”

A couple years ago. Not days or weeks. Years.

That explains everything.

In Larry David I trust

I have a litmus test for anyone I meet. It boils down to whether you fit into one of two categories:

1. Those who get Curb Your Enthusiasm.
2. Those who don’t.

I bring this up for one reason:

Everyone out here is Absolutely. Obsessed. With. Birthdays.

I’ve always looked at birthdays – especially birthday parties – from the Larry David school of thought:

Larry David: “So today’s the big day, huh.”

Ben Stiller: “Oh, actually it was two weeks ago. We couldn’t celebrate it because we had a ‘thing,’ so we had to push it to this weekend.”

LD: “Two weeks ago?”

BS: “Yeah, so what?”

LD: “You can’t have a celebrate your birthday two weeks after your birthday.”

BS: “Yes I can.”

LD: “No. You can’t. You missed it. It’s over. You just have to wait until next year. There should be a statute of limitations on birthdays. A 3-day cutoff.”

I’m all for the statute of limitations. This birthday thing is out of control.

It’s insane. In California, I think birthdays are bigger than Christmas.

There’s no cutoff of how early or how late you can celebrate, how large or how small you can plan it, or how many celebrations you can have. And forget about the surprise party. Everyone knows exactly what they want to do for their birthday and exactly how they want it to go down. And apparently, your birthday hasn’t happened until you’ve actually celebrated it.

Speaking of birthdays, click here to view L.A.’s most avid birthday-celebrators. Seriously, every freaking weekend is someone’s stupid birthday.

Oh, I almost forgot. My birthday is next Saturday. No gifts please.