Fun with Pyelonephritis

Today is the first day I truly feel back on the road to normalcy. Man, it's amazing how quick you remember how seriously fortunate we all are to wake up to feeling healthy and pain free when you take a smack down from an infection or illness.

Last Thursday I broke my proudly held streak of. staving away sickness (although my fever was a by product of infection, not just a typical run of the mill illness!)

I was at work and came down with the chills in the office, then my body went through temperature indecisiveness as I went from feeling hot to cold to cold to hot as the day progressed. I naively took airborne and hot tea, not yet under the realization that I had an infection inescapable by otherwise effective prophylactic remedies.

Reluctantly, I attended a work event that night and once it was over I couldn't wait to change out of my uncomfortable work gear and plop my bloodshot eyed ass on the couch.

Fast forward to late that night: I wake up in the middle of the night, miserable, achy, burning hot with chills. Har takes my temp and it's an alarming 105. He pulls the blankets off me and shoves ice packs under my arms and one between my legs. I'm helplessly lying there, uncomfortable beyond measure.

The next day, Friday, was no better. After a night of unrestful sleep, I wake up no better than the previous day. At this point I haven't eaten a thing because my appetite was shut down. My temp dropped maybe a degree or two, but nothing promising. The next day is my birthday, and try as I might, there ain't no way in hell I was going to make the recovery I was hoping for. Time rolls by slooooow. I'm up early and wake up multiple times at night. My head feels like its about to explode and my lower back felt like what the sensation must be to be stabbed repeatedly. I'm sweating and all I wish I could do was sleep just to get some relief. 7pm...8pm..9pm..10pm..with my fever steadily high Har takes me to urgent care. I reluctantly get up and go outside to the biting cold. We check in and wait. And wait. I fell asleep on his shoulder when finally they call me in.

I curl up on the hard narrow hospital bed and wait. Lucky for Har, this was a nice hospital and my station had a tv w/ cable in it. Thank God for my PPO! Costs a little more but at least you can pick where you go.

I have a PA, RN, and administrator assigned to me. Har gives the PA the report, I explain my symptoms, the nurse takes my blood and they run labs to figure out what the deal is. Turns out I was diagnosed with a kidney infection; strangely I didn't exhibit signs of its annoying little sister, "cystitis" which is the precursor to what I got.

About 7 years ago I was misdiagnosed at Kaiser for a kidney infection. I had a high fever for days and was diagnosed with a simple uti. They gave me antibiotics that didn't work because my fever wasn't breaking and I was miserable. I went back in to urgent care and they claimed I was "dehydrated" and sent me home. The next day I got a frantic call from them saying I need to get admitted in the hospital asap for a kidney infection and risk of sepsis. I was in the hospital for 3 days for intravenous antibiotic therapy. Thankfully I averted sepsis and all the terrible repercussions that go with it.

Anyway, that was my prequel to my sequel experience with my kidneys best enemy. This time I went to a competent hospital. It's 4 a.m., I spend my first few birthday hours in urgent care in total misery, I'm given a prescription for antibiotics and pain killers, and before I leave, a late night birthday gift of a shot of keflex in the ass, that burned like a mutha fo. Not the shot itself but the antibiotic solution. That shit dissapated slower than ice melts. The expression on my face matched the "10" on the pain scale diagram.

I limp out of there with Har's help, he gives me a kiss on the forehead.."Happy birthday baby"..and we go home. It isn't until Monday that I can actually get up and eat. Finally, by Wednesday I'm getting my groove back. Someone told me that women who are super busy and/or have high pain thresholds tend to be susceptible to kidney infection because they aren't shaken by a uti, which gives it a chance to travel. I guess I should take that as a compliment? Haha

Today, I'm feeling even better..but slow and easy is the name of the game.

I don't want to risk a threequel.
Sent via her BlackBerry

Concrete jungle

This morning I took a drive to get a fresh view on what's going on out in the real world since I've confined myself to my office cube all week.

 

Aside from checking out new store openings and closings for work, I encountered the following oddities in the 2 hour span of my drive:

 

*Cell phone tower poorly disguised as a palm tree.

 

Can you guess which one is the real one in the picture? Haha too funny. I know the intention is good, but when it looks this bad, why bother?

 

*Lady in car..drowning in her own filth

 

I tried to be ninja about snapping this pic for fear that she'd attack me. I wish I got a clearer shot. Her car was literally filled to the brim with trash everywhere except for the driver seat. I swear she has to be Oscar the grouch's long lost sister.

 

*Rain

 

Can our weather be any more indecisive? 90 degree heat, sunny, cloudy..then rain? Mother Earth’s wrath is upon us!

Hope you enjoyed your party, AIG!

After reading about AIG's blowout lush and lavish bash, spa treatments, and partying like rock stars valued at $400K of financial bailout tax money, I wanted to wring someone's neck.

Thankfully, I can poke fun at dire situations for a temporary laugh..

NEW STOCK MARKET TERMS:


CEO --Chief Embezzlement Officer.


CFO-- Corporate Fraud Officer.


BULL MARKET -- A random market movement causing an investor to mistake himself for a financial genius.


BEAR MARKET -- A 6 to 18 month period when the kids get no allowance, the wife gets no jewelry, and the husband gets no sex.


VALUE INVESTING -- The art of buying low and selling lower.


P/E RATIO -- The percentage of investors wetting their pants as the market keeps crashing.


BROKER -- What my broker has made me.


STANDARD & POOR -- Your life in a nutshell. (profound!)


STOCK ANALYST -- Idiot who just downgraded your stock.


STOCK SPLIT -- When your ex-wife and her lawyer split your assets equally between themselves.


FINANCIAL PLANNER -- A guy whose phone has been disconnected.


MARKET CORRECTION -- The day after you buy stocks.


CASH FLOW-- The movement your money makes as it disappears down the toilet.


YAHOO -- What you yell after selling it to some poor sucker for $240 per share.


WINDOWS -- What you jump out of when you're the sucker who bought Yahoo @ $240 per share.


INSTITUTIONAL INVESTOR -- Past year investor who's now locked up in a nuthouse.


PROFIT -- An archaic word

Media underload/Media overload?

I was talking to my good friend Anne last night who reminded me that I've neglected my blog for far too long.

 

During our conversation, we got to talking about the extended mute button lifestyle I've adapted to out of circumstance. As I think about the things I've learned to live without, I realize how underexposed I am to mass media and all the news, both relevant and non-relevant, that my mind is free from. I can’t help but think about how this has improved the quality of my thought life:

 

Cable TV:

 

For over 2 years, I haven't subscribed to cable TV. It all started when I was living in a loft with a rent payment that sucked the fun out of my income. I thought, "eh, I could do without tv, I'll just watch dvds." Besides, what's the point of paying for hundreds of channels if I just watch about 5-6 of them? Let’s face it – cable is not a necessity, it’s a desire, a luxury even at some of the insane price points of premium service options.

 

At first, I didn’t know what the hell to do with the time usually spent as a drone in front of the tube. I turned to the internet which is arguably just as addicting, but it all depends on what content you’re filling your head with. I also ended up having more time to accomplish things I needed/wanted to do. I’m far more active now, and I think that not watching TV all day for hours on end is to thank for that.

 

Now, if the urge strikes to watch my favorite channels, I'll do so at my bros. Nowadays my desire to watch tv is pretty much nil to none. I don't feel like I'm missing much anything of note; I get my news feeds online so I’m not totally in the dark of current events – just not overexposed and thoroughly depressed like most folks. I can still catch an episode of Kate plus 8, The Dog Whisperer, National Geographic, and whatever strikes my fancy. I’ve got Scrubs and Heros on queue with Netflix, and I own every season of Sex & the City. I even pop in old seasons of the Dave Chappelle show and still laugh till I cry. No commercials, too!  I’m glad I don’t have to subject myself to the abundance of crap reality shows.

 

All of the reality “stars” are either a neurotic, drama queen, have anger issues, a slut, an alcoholic, a druggie, or all of the above. Just writing about them has dropped my IQ 2 points. Definitely not the kind of lifestyle you should aim to expose yourself to or emulate. If you must watch this crap, remember…everything you witness is how NOT to do things.

 

The Hills. I am quite possibly the only woman in their demographic viewership that is not a fan. I’ve barely seen a whole 5 minutes of one episode that my brother, his GF, my SO, and his brother, were all watching attentively. This show is one of those hybrid shows – a faux-ality show if you will. So wait, I’m confused – does everyone like the “real” them or the rehearsed them. (I’m saying “them” because I can’t remember the names of the main characters). My co-workers keep trying to convince me with their “you should watch it!” promptings, but I just don’t feel compelled. My bros GF wants to go everywhere that “The Hills” go to on their show. Really? Now we’re letting actors make your decisions for you? What happened to deciding what you want, or what you like based on your own self-discovery? I’ll take Yelp for suggestions over two blondies on TV who probably were scripted to be at “X” place that the location scout for the show found for them. What is this power they have over people? I digress….

 

Radio:

 

Like many disgruntled Honda owners, my factory installed radio deck has successfully locked me out of my own radio usage. I called my dealer, service shop, and even googled for a solution. All I found were more stories of Honda owners being locked out of their own radio. It all started when I changed my car battery, which is well over 3 years. Although I had the radio code at one point, I lost it after a fire. That code is safer than the President surrounded by secret service agents-no one knows what the damn thing is!

 

Alas, I had to deal with hearing nothing but road noises until I got myself an ipod. That was better, but what about my passengers? It took me a little longer to adjust, but today, I am totally used to hearing silence coupled with the rumblings of my 11 year old car and the road. Now I never hear the newest top 10 songs when they get airplay, but the benefit is that I don't tire of the song as quickly because I don't hear the radio playing it for the zillionth time of the day, every day until they've beaten the novelty out of the song. I also don’t have to get the 1,000’s of advertising messages that most commuters do. No longer do I need to hear about buying a car at Universal City Nissan, breast augmentation for $3,999, or who to call for bail bonds on Power 106. I can just listen to music that I’ve selected to listen to with a single click of my ipod. When I need a spiritual boost, I switch to my Joel Osteen free podcasts and by the time I walk in the office, I’m a positive woman, ready to conquer the world. At night on my drive through the canyons after the gym, I drive with my moon roof and windows wide open and hear the natural soundtrack of crickets, birds, and other critters. It’s a great way to wind down after a hard work out.

 

Gossip Rags:

 

Combine the absence of gossip mags with my lack of tv or radio usage and what you have is a woman who is totally out of the loop of the latest celebrity gossip. Like junk food, I indulge when they’re available, like at the salon or dentists office. But I’ve never bought one in my life. Whenever I flip through one, I’m amazed at the latest and greatest juicy celebrity gossip that has passed me by. Wha? Mariah Carey is marrying that dude from that one dance off show on MTV whose name escapes me? Huh? Jessica Alba already had her baby and is back in shape after an intensive “baby fat blast workout.” OMG, Beyonce is Mrs. Jay Hova? Ha ha ha ha! I’m sure this is all old old news by now. I can’t help but laugh at how out of touch I am on the day to day dramas and lives of the celebrity elite. I crack up at the page that demonstrates how celebs are “real people too!” who do their own shopping and have an off day where they look like shit (GASP!) – it’s so ludicrous you just gotta love how the general population swallows it whole. Especially when people start sharing the gossip as though they’re actual friends of these stars. What’s really depressing is that celeb gossip news shows like E! are devoted to delivering this “news” to you in live format. Just in case you can’t read, you can get the scoop on tv! My mom is a gossip slut – she is all about the gossip – celeb gossip, family gossip, neighbor gossip, random person gossip. It’s depressing. No doubt it’s fun in moderation, but the level of obsessive ness makes me glad that I don’t get fat off this junk food. I’ll stick to my subscriptions to Women’s Health and Cosmo. Although, Cosmo’s starting to get a little on the lame-o side with the same non-exciting sex positions that entice me to read it in the first place. I guess for the most part I like it for the latest fashion & beauty trends; very little relevant editorial when compared to WH.

 

*WHEEW* That was a long winded explanation! With all that said, I’d like to challenge you to do without TV, radio, gossip rags, and any other media that you abuse for at least a month, and see what happens! Statistics show that it takes 30 days to form a pattern and 90 days to form a habit. Perhaps this rings true in breaking them.

 

Whether you do it by choice or by circumstance, I think you’ll be amazed at the results. It’s surprising how much life you gain when you learn what you can live without.

 

 

 

 

42" of fun

I recently discovered that Walgreen's carries some of the most random yet fun products outisde of the typical drug store finds of meds, daily needs, greeting cards, etc.

I walked in for Insolia shoe inserts and walked out with a 42" baby blue dog toy, complete with two separate types of squeakers on both ends. At $10, how could I resist?

This behemoth of a toy would quadruple his usual excitement for something new. And two squeakers that squak different tunes? Genius! The thing is 3 times longer than him, but he still drags, fetches, and carries it like a big dog.

Just watching him entertain himself for hours made it fun for me, too!

Hands down it's the best money I spent all week!
Sent via her BlackBerry

My SOS? AAA!

For eleven years and 162,000+ miles, not once have I ever ran out of gas to the point of no return. That is, until last night...

Thankfully, my experience was not as terrible as stressful as it could have been. I was at home and my car was in the driveway. I went in my car to make it to my power yoga class, tried to fire up the ignition, and my geriatric automobile sounded like a horse with no power. WTF? This NEVER happens to me! I've driven my car with the empty light on to work, to the gym, back home, and to the office the next day. In this instance, my gas empty warning light didn't even turn on. I guess the problem was that I was on empty and I went out of town for a real estate convention for 3 days. I took the train, so my car wasn't being driven for all that time. I guess what little fumes I had left eventually evaporated. I guess it happens to the best of us. I'm just pretty impressed that this is the first time it's ever happened to me.

Luckily my S.O. was off and offered to give me a lift to the gym. Late that day, he bought a 1-gallon plastic gas can, drizzled it in my Sahara-like gas tank, turned the key, and my engine just coughed like a smoker with bronchitis.

The next day, I pondered how the hell I was going to get more gas to give it a go one more time. Like a revelation, I remembered that I am an AAA Premiere member. At one time or another, I remembered reading somewhere about roadside assistance which included gas delivery.

I called the 800 # on my AAA card, confirmed they do this, and the nice customer service guy on the other line said "Yes, we deliver up to 2 gallons of gas free of charge as part of your Premiere Membership!" I explained that my car was on my driveway and that it wouldn't start as a result of my gas neglect. They happily informed me that someone would be there in 30 minutes or less, and I jumped for joy. Woohoo, AAA to the rescue!

The truck pulled up and I got an automated call from AAA updating me that the truck would be here shortly. Now that's what I call efficiency! My hero for the day poured the gas, asked me to crank the engine, at which point I just turned the key without knowing that I was supposed to pump on the gas. He offered to give it a go and after much effort and a big plume of smoke from my exhaust pipe, my car finally went purrrr. Its thirst was finally quenched.

Ahh...what a relief! Now that my car is getting farther and farther up there in age, I won't wait until I see the "get gas now" light staring at me in the face.

BUT..if I ever do, I get solace in knowing that my hero, AAA can always come to my rescue!

Seat with a view

In my effort to "go green" and save some green, I am on the train en route from Burbank to San Diego for the ICSC conference. Not only am I saving the gas and crazy hotel parking expense, there is one less car in the road. Let's not forget the intangible savings of hassle, time stuck in traffic, and the ability to read and catch up on things as a passenger, not a driver. The cars are totally comfy: Nice sized seats, climate controlled, restroom on board, and a cafe. Can't say you have these amenities when driving solo!

I looked up and noticed there is a great view as we pass through San Juan Capistrano. The train tracks run parallel to the beach, providing me with a front seat view of the water and lucky folks who are out there enjoying it.

Sure beats the view of the freeway and cars! Now if only there was a train to the office...
Sent via her BlackBerry

Maui Mia

I spent 5 gloriously theraputic days on Ka'anapali Beach in Maui. Breathtaking scenery, crystal clear turquoise waters, beautiful people full of aloha. Ahh, how I miss it already.

It's only day 2 of being back on the mainland and I've already drifted swiftly down from my natural paradise high, crash landing back to my reality.

There are so many things to love about Maui. Let me count the ways:

1-Aloha in community: Locals are laid back and friendly, and it's contagious to both transplants and tourists alike. Everyone is calm, happy, and smiling, which in turn makes you calm, happy, and smiling right back.

2-Theraputic surroundings: Lush tropical greenery, flowers, trees, and undeveloped vistas and mountainsides can be seen from every angle. The beach is clean, water is warm and crystal clear, and it goes on for miles. Your problems and worries literally melt away with each hour you spend sitting on the beach. All body types are bikini clad with no judgments. Everyone's just hanging loose..

3-Driving; There are limited roads on Maui, and the speed limits are pretty slow. People drive relaxed, at a slow and steady pace. No road rage, no being stuck in a sea of traffic, no billboards. Just you, the road, the ocean to one side and the beautiful countryside on the other.

4-In Maui, you escape the exploitation, abrasiveness, and lewdness typically found in L.A. They haven't ruined the beauty of their land or people by using sex to sell it. Maui is a class act and is perfect just the way it is, so why ruin it? Here, you don't see sexed up billboards beckoning you to buy this or that, the women are admired as beauties and not pieces of meat to conquer, and you can walk around in your bikini top without feeling like everyone's gawking at you. When you look around, the typical L.A. Blond Hauoli with a fake bake and plastic surgery/botoxed/collagen monsters are virtually nil.

5-Native men: In ancient Hawaii, the men did all the hard work and labor, all the way down to the cooking. Women were respected and admired for their ability to bring life to the world, so the men did the hard work and cherished their queens. I am sure that many young generations of these native men have instilled these same values in them, thus making the island a better place to find a quality man. Let's not forget the great bronzed physique attributed to island lifestyles and activities. Mahalo to that!

6-Health: Maui is undoubtedly a place that encourages healthy lifestyles. You can't help but want to be outside doing some sort of activity: surf, swim, run, hike, hula, you name it. There are very few fast food joints, so you eat actual food, and the occasional spam dish, which is fine because you eat so well the majority of the time. During my last visit I learned Maui is smoke free-no smoking anywhere except sidewalks and beaches. And lastly, renewable energy at a rate of 70% is a goal the county hopes to achieve within 7 years, of course not at the expense of the preservation of the land or its animal inhabitants.

7-Limited development: Thankfully corporate big wigs can't touch the island and thus ruin it like most other tourist/resort places. It hasn't been bastardized into L.A.'s island stepchild with big trendy hotels with red velvet rope clubs and women in slut couture from head to stiletto toe. Giant billboards and neon lights and cookie cutter shopping centers haven't landed here, and with the exception of a small corridor close to the airport in Kahului, I'm pretty sure they never will. The hipster "see and be seen" celebrity obsessed, competitive, wannabe model/actress/rapper/fill-in-the-blank scene is not coveted there. Neither are flashy cars, ridiculously giant residences, and other wasteful acts of materialism. The island is a breath of fresh air, it's actually too good to be considered a state in the U.S. because of its vast differences.

8-The music: I listened to the local radio station in Honolulu-100.3, and all of the songs were chill, relaxing, and they articulated words with meaning. The artists on the islands are the modern day oldies groups in that they still sing about love. None of the bullshit about hoes, cash, and automobiles like most of the top 40 on the mainland. No designer name dropping and talking about kissing girls and tasting their cherry chapstick. No, just good ol' fashioned love.

9-Minority rules: This is one of the few places that appeals to the masses from all backgrounds and demographic profiles across the board. But, it's also one of few places where being a native, or coming a close second based on your ethnicity where the roles are reversed and the natives rule the roost (in an unassuming and humble way, of course). Being told you look like a native of Maui is one of the biggest compliments you can get, and it makes me smile every time.

10-Waterside eating: I love to eat al fresco, overlooking the beach, especially in the morning for breakfast. It's great that all kinds of restaurants from super casual to ultra upscale are equal in their ability to offer you beachside seating when you dine. Where else can you eat a big delicious burger while you gaze out at their million dollar view? The restaurant at our hotel worked symbiotically with the birds; rather than implement ways to keep them out, they treat them like friends, not pests. They allow them to fly about and even eat leftovers after diners leave-they're kind of like little helpers. Then, once the crew comes to clean up and new guests are seated, they don't bother them and they just perch and wait patiently.

These are just 10 of the many ways I love the lovely island. It's truly a love affair with staying power..


Sent via her BlackBerry

Pinnochio's of the world: Suck a big fat one.

Honesty. Integrity. Trustworthiness. Unshaken commitment to values. It sounds so easy and makes absolute sense but for some, these characteristics are so far out of their reach it’s utterly, pathetically, disappointing.

At the core of each one of us, there are things inside of you that give you the potential to be a good person if you are wise enough to tap into it. Someone that people intentionally surround himself or herself with. Someone whom you could entrust your life and the life of those you love and care for. Someone you don’t have to doubt or second guess for one minute.

I have learned all too often though personal experience how rare a gift finding an individual of this caliber truly is. In this fucked up place we call society that breeds deception, selfishness, and betrayal in the same vein as eating, sleeping, shitting, and breathing, falling victim to any of these acts of unkindness is an all too common thing.

It’s sad how those who commit such acts pathetically try to justify their behavior with bullshit cop outs, flips of the script, and blaming everything and everyone besides ones OWN SELF for acting a fool. For fucks sake, at least take responsibility for your own behavior if you can consciously make the decision to go against your better judgment.

The ironic thing about all of this is that the aforementioned offenders are typically hypocritical when it comes to being the deceptee and not the deceptor. You can bet that all hell breaks loose if you ever treat them with the same disrespect that they’ve shown you. Yep, that’s the way these fucktards minds work.

Their motto is “Do unto others as you would not have others do unto you.”

What is the outcome? Well, let’s see. Relationships fucking crumble under the mind numbing recycling of bullshit and apologies and the skull fuck internal dialog such as “how do I know when this person is being honest/good/integrous” after one or multiple previous offenses.

The curse is on the person on the RECEIVING end of this selfish bullshit. They are the ones who choose to be the bigger person, to forgive, give another the benefit of the doubt, and work towards rebuilding trust and faith that somewhere deep in the crevices of that persons tainted heart, therein lies a good person. And then you proceed to subject yourself to the yo-yo effect of good-bad-good-bad, just when you thought things were good, this persons corrupted soul gives you the finger and you suffer the consequences of being the optimist, the person who believes in the good in people, the person who takes risk on love and all things good about it because you thought you saw something in someone that may very well not even exist.

I don’t care what anyone says. A lie is a lie is a lie. Big or small, short or tall, scandalous or innocent, it’s all the fucking same to me. It’s about principal, about building up and earning something so precious and rare that people should be risking their very existence to uphold it. You can have it for years but if you screw up once, you’re back at square one. It is THAT fleeting. You don’t just earn it once and have the right to keep it forever. You have to continue to demonstrate that you are exactly the person you project and claim to be. You’re not just a sugar coating salesman who is trying to convince others to buy into the idea that you’re worthy of their time, their love, their attention. You are a real, genuine, person who can offer what 99.99% of the general population cannot.

The true test is when you are the person you say you are, doing and acting in the way you say you will when NO ONE is looking. Who gives a shit about the academy award winning performance you give when you have an audience. It’s all about what goes down backstage when the camera stops rolling and all that remains are you, your conscience, and your ability to effortlessly do the right thing.

In my book, that’s more valuable than gold, platinum, and all things under the sun. You give me this, all day, every day, and you’re giving me the world. Anything else you can offer is just icing on the cake.

But, if all you have going for you is icing, then I don’t fucking want any.

If any of the people in my life think they are entitled to have their cake and eat it too, then I sure as hell am fully qualified and entitled to my piece.

FCUK finger lickin' good profits!

Let me preface this post by saying that I am not a vegetarian. I support what PETA stands for but at the same time I can see how they may once in a while get a little carried away with their activist efforts. You can’t criticize them for their passion, though, especially when you learn the ugly truth about inhumane practices of fast feeders such as KFC in the name of quick profits.

Watch the attached video to see how these future 12 piece buckets lived prior to their fate on your plate. They say sex sells so I give Pam Anderson a thumbs up for using her sexlebrity status to bring attention to the sad reality of cheap chicken.

I don’t eat KFC in the first place since I see their food as grease sponges full of artery clogging, muffin-top and cellulite inducing qualities that are not on my wish list. Yech. Did you know that just ONE piece of extra crispy chicken breast has a whopping 440 calories and 27 grams of fat?? It’s JUST chicken for clucks sake! It’s no wonder the U.S. of A. is the fat nation of the world.

Colonel Sanders cares nothing about your health or the humane treatment of the very thing that allows his existence. All he cares about is the health and well-being of his deep pockets. You know that, yes?

Anyway, if that doesn’t deter you, hopefully some of the disheartening images on the video will. Sure, I know some of you are thinking “Who cares? They’re just stupid chickens, and they’re going to die anyway.” You don’t have to be an animal lover like me, but if you have even an inkling of sympathy pulsing in your aorta, you can’t deny that these sorts of practices are not right, and those who do them should be called out on their shenanigans.

This is why I’ll pay the extra buck or two to purchase free-range, grain-fed, non-antibiotic laden, organic/natural chicken any day of the week.

Creepy crawlies and heebie jeebies

Yesterday on my ascent from the subterranean parking garage up to my office, in my usual hurried fashion, I was taken aback when I noticed a ginormous beige praying mantis on the wall of the narrow hallway I travel through to get to the courtyard entrance of the building. I paused for a while, trying to decipher how I would move swiftly pass the huge dead palm leaf plant so generously placed there by one of the buildings tenants, as though there was a sign in the hallway that read “There is a trash dumpster downstairs, but who cares? Just leave all your abandoned shit here.”

 

The scenario: Large, scary mantis on the left wall. Big, dead palm plant directly across from it with it’s dead, crispy leaves treacherously reaching out towards the opposite wall. This left very little space for me to scurry on by without disturbing the mantis and risk it jumping on me while I scream bloody murder.

 

The options: Go back downstairs and take the long way around the front of the center and up the stairs and walk in the office a few minutes late or tip toe ever so slowly past the little beast so as not to disturb or anger it and get to the office just in time.

 

With a worried expression plastered on my face, I tread ever so slowly past the vicious little monster, my skin crawling at the thought that those large praying claws might be on my skin. I breathed a sigh of relief as I reached the door, glanced over my shoulder and saw that I left the mantis undisturbed.

 

I went through this torture two more times that day – once during lunch and the last on my way home. During lunch, I couldn’t get over how huge this thing was. I decided it would be a brilliant idea to snap a photo of it for this blog. So that readers out there know these are real world stories that I don’t just conjure up randomly in my head. I pulled my Blackberry out of my purse, ever so slowly and put my camera on. My zoom function was all wonky and there was no way in hell I was going to go close to the thing, so I took a picture from far away that resulted in a small splotch of beige on a purple wall. Oh well, I found two extra magnified photos online that help paint the picture of what I was faced with. As I snapped the picture, the camera sound effect went off, and I kid you not, I saw the mantis’ head turn 180 degrees and stare at me with its large compound eyes. (Upon some internet research, I learned they also have 3 other simple eyes located between its two giant ones. I also saw a video of a mantis hunting, catching, and then eating a small field mouse. AAAHHH!)  Anyway, so I proceeded to step back slowly and move away from the monster before I book it through the courtyard doors. That little bugger stayed in one place for 9 hours straight. I swore I would see it again this morning but thank God it went on its merry way. Or maybe it’s hiding in the dead palm plant, blending in and laughing as it plots to jump in my hair once I pass by.

 

Now, now, I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t you just kill it? Killing it is not an option. For one: It’s outside in nature. That’s his turf. For two: Although mantis give me the hibitty jibbitys, they are good because they kill pests such as flies. Not to mention that females sometimes eat their mate after, or even during a sack session. I once saw something on National Geographic of the latter; she chopped his head clean off but his bottom half continued to do the deed. Perhaps he asked her to “give him some head” and she was like, “how about YOU give me some head!” Ouch. Never underestimate the cunning qualities of our insect friends. But still, despite the risk of getting risqué with a female mantis, males continue to pursue and consummate with the fairer sex. It’s a fact, even in the world of bugs, men will do anything for sex; even if it means doing it with a cannibal.

 

 

 

Oh make me over!

Da nuh nah nuh nah nuh!

My grannie, aka "lola" asked me to color her hair today, and what started as a simple favor became a full on makeover: Hair color, style, and make up. She looks instantly younger and more lively. The best thing about it is that she feels good because she knows she looks good. It was a treat for me to see her smile.

She is getting out of the house for a family party; one of the first times she's ventured out for something besides a doctor appointment. And now she will be stepping out in style!

No matter what age, if you're a woman, when you look good, you feel good! :)

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"I'm just here to walk my dog"

As I buckle the leash on my dogs collar and venture out into the street, I am sometimes interupted by annoying men. I don't know what it is about a girl walking down the street, but whatever's in the air causes some of the most annoying behavior ever. I can't count the number of times I've either:

A) Sarcastically laughed and belittled a guy for their inappropriate sidewalk advances

B) Rolled my eyes in disgust and ignore a guy completely, acting as if he's non-existent

C) Gave a guy the finger, and sometimes the double bird if he really deserves it

Guys, guys, guys..trust me when I say that any intelligent, headstrong, or quality woman would ever take heed to your advances when she's out walking her dog on the street. You will not appear suave and coy by pulling your car up to her as she walks and you slowly roll alongside her to spit your pathetic game. Instead, you'll creep her out and you may get maced if she carries one of those keychain thingys.

That kinda bullshit only works in music videos, where bimbos and hoes will gladly flock to your car in their skivvies.

In real life, a classy female does not wish to be "holla"d" at. Please, please spare yourself the embarrasment.

And here's another thing- Don't call us "baby" or "shawty" or "boo" or any other fuckin' lame term of endearment you've recently looked up in the slang dictionary lately. If you want to say hello, here's how you do it: Hello! Period!

While you're driving down the street, man oh man does it make us want to chop your ding-a-ling like a sushi roll when you honk obnoxiously, yell out any of the aforementioned "TOD'S", and worst of all, make kissy noises or wolf whistle out of your window like a NYC construction worker. You big pig, there's nothing pussier than a hit-on-u-and-run. If you don't have the cojones to act a fool on foot then don't be a coward and do it while driving, skating, bicycling, etc. I swear I'm going to clothesline one of you someday!

Lastly, I'm a nice person so if you're unassuming and just being neighborly, great. But if you use the "what kind of dog is that?" line only as a lead in to follow it with some sort of advance, then shuddafukkupp and let me walk my dog in peace, I can see right through you.

Recently I had an encounter that is the first of its kind on the street. I was at a stoplight awaiting the big red hand to change to the white walkin stick man, dog in tow. A group of young guys, seemingly drunk walked to my side of the street. Two of them jaywalked and thought they were the coolest kids on the block for breaking the law. Fucking amateurs. I'm standing there, minding my own business when I feel someone lightly grab at my arm as he asked in his best cool guy voice "eh, what kind of dog is that?"

I slowly turned my head to face his direction, gave him an icy death stare, and calmly, but authoritavely said "Don't fucking touch me. I don't know you", and turned my gaze back to the street in front of me. He standed there silent for several minutes with his tail between his legs before whimpering out "I just wanted to know what kind of dog that is!"

Yeah. Riiight. Sure. And I like getting touched by strangers.

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Zoom Zoom

When it comes to driving, one of the things that irk me the most are people who suck at canyon driving. The point of driving through the hills is to short cut your way from point A to point B faster than you can say "freeway traffic eats dirty balls".
You don't need to take lessons to navigate hills properly and keep it moving steadily along, thus ensuring you don't wear your brake pads down to a sliver after one trip through the hills.

All it takes is a little common sense and spatial know how.

Sunday morning I got stuck behind an idiot of a canyon driver. In front of her: nothing but clear clear clear. But yet, she had her iron foot steadily on the brakes for practically the entire descent. Red lights stared me in the face, and despite my best efforts to use the 3-second rule I couldn't get a decent flow going. Seriously lady, stick to the straightaway flat roads and leave the winding, gravity induced, scenic view to the pros.

It's like your own little rollercoaster ride if driven right..fuuu-un! So, lady in the dirty camry that I will now refer to as Ironfoot: I have some advice for you. As Ludicris so poetically put it "Move bitch, get out the way, get out the way, get out the way!" Mooove!!


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People watching

As I sit in my usual spot and eat my lunch, I usually end up observing the people around me because there's really not much else to do other than watch the cars speed down Ventura Blvd.

The most interesting person award goes to a seemingly average, old-fashioned, proper woman in her 60's from the front view as she approached the Western Bagel shop behind me: white hair in a cropped cut, fair, creped skin, and a casual white tee, pull on pants, and sneakers.

As she walked out of the shop and away from me, I was surprised to see a small lock of hot pink hair that formed a sort of mini-tail behind her head. Totally unexpected. What a rockin' mama! In a sea of pre-conceived judgments that she's just your "typical old lady" all she has to do to prove you otherwise is smile, turn, and walk away. That hot pink lock is probably her way of giving you the finger, and in many ways is like a subtle yet in your face way to express attitude and spunkiness that is still alive and kickin'.

I only wish I had shot a picture of it..
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Whose line is it anyway?

Hmm..I wonder what this girl is thinking about. I don’t know what’s more disturbing: the fact that she can literally fold herself in half like a napkin or that she has THE MOST GINORMOUS camel toe on EARTH! And why the hell is there a square highlighting the bat on her shirt, as if that will deter the fact that she has giant labia. She could be a poster child for labioplasty that uses scare tactics to prompt you to action. Remember the frying egg on the scorching hot pan? “This is your brain, this is your brain on drugs?” Except her slogan would be “This is your labia; trim those lips down before they swallow your pink underwear whole.” Man, you can probably put lipstick on those bad boys.

 

If I had to guess what she’s thinking, it’d go a lil’ something like this:

 

“ Silly rabbit, so THAT’S where I hid my hot dog bun!”

 

“Ooh doggy, from this angle, I can watch the action as it happens!”

 

“Shit….I probably should have worn a black panty”

 

“Freaking camels, I knew that all those years of kicking me in the crotch would cause permanent damage!”

 

“I have the Angelina Jolie of labias.”

 

 

 

 

So THAT's what Mickey D's is good for!

Mickey D’s grease. It clogs arteries and fattens American children to astronomical levels of obesity. But it’s not just good for that, it’s also the answer to the high gas prices! Well, maybe not for everyone, but according to the Sydney Morning Herald in their report that used cooking oil will be donated by Makati outlets in the Philippines for police patrol cars. The mixture will parallel that of an average investment portfolio allocation – the 60/40 rule. In this case, 40% diesel and 60% cooking oil. Why they chose to just donate to police and not the overall public, I guess the world may never know. One thing’s for sure, if I’m touching McDonalds grease, it won’t be traveling down MY digestive system, but rather pumped into my cars belly, just like time crunched and oblivious parents feed their kids. The difference is that my car will stay slim and trim as the first day it was manufactured…unlike its human grease eating counterparts.

 

 

O is for obliques, S is for sweat

Yowza, Monday nights cardio box/sculpt class kicked my ass more than usual. All of my large muscle groups are sore. Even those smaller muscles, of which I don't recall the names despite being 1 of the handful of smarty pants in kinesiology class during my 9th grade year.

Well whatever they are..they hurt. The intercostal spaces between my riblets hurt. My glutes hurt, but the bright side of that is that I've felt how uplifted the buttocks feel. I have developed quite the callipygian ass. Not only do I benefit from a hard workout, Har sure does as well in a tactile and eye candy sorta way.

Last night, the a/c was out in dance class. Pair that with a fast paced routine, and you might as well call it Bikram Dance. Ugh, the must and humidity was thick and naaasty. Everyone sweat buckets throughout class and surprisingly no one fainted. Nonetheless, we still had a good ol' time doing a routine that paid homage to old school moves like the running man and robocop to the beat of Poison.
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Beachy Keen

Yeah yah these posts are late. That just goes to show how proccupied I am with having a life and not just writing about one-good news, yes?

So check it out- Saturday the Mai-Li bday celebrants went to Manhattan Beach. I was psyched to bike there from MDR but most of the crew wanted to be lazy and drive instead. Boo! My BF hung back and decided to be lazier by not joining us for the fun. Boo x 2.

Anyhoo, Mai-Li officially hated the ocean for a few minutes right before she started boogie boarding and having fun. Justen ate it while dare deviling through the waters, Anne almost drowned nekkid, I caught some tan renewing rays until it all of a sudden became cold and overcast, and although I was sure Liz would get a ticket for an extended hour of beach fun past out meter limit, there was none. Birthday luck I guess.

We were off to Anne's place for bbq, booze, watched recorded "Americas Best Dance Crew" episodes, and caught rock band feva all night.
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Universal remixed

This past Sunday we celebrated Mai-Li's entry into teenagehood at Universal Studios; being that I haven't been there in ages, I was intrigued with the notion of new motion-simulating rides, tourist geared 'it's just like being in a movie!' shows, and a revamped studio back lot tour.

The most noteworthy of all the rides was The Simpsons ride. Formerly home to Back 2 the Future, this attraction got layers upon layers of bright paint, faux Kwik-E-Mart and Moe's Tavern facades, and cool Krustyland type posters lining the herding gates. The ride was the same concept as B2TF, but so fun, creative, and fast paced. The coolest part was when giant Maggie "picks up" the car we're in and attempts to put us in her mouth like a pacifier. When Marge yells for her to stop and she spits us out, you get sprayed with her baby spit that actually smelled like baby-I think baby wipes or baby powder. Either way that was nice attention to detail.

The other changes were the Conan the Barbarian show turned Haunted House of Horrors, E.T. turned Mummy Returns, the doing away of kit from Knight Rider (yes, its been THAT long!), and an update to the studio tour, involving new props from recent movies and coats of paint. The one thing I missed was the King Kong sound stage and rickety bridge. They did have a cool outdoor set of the props used in War of the Worlds and Who homes from The Grinch (made out of styrofoam!)

We all indulged in the availability of booze in an amusement park, just because we could if for no other compelling reason to drink at 11 am on a Sunday.

By the end of the day we were pooped and ready to bid adieu to US remix style.
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The earth's a' movin!

Shake..shake..shake that thang, girl! Mama Earth put her dancing shoes on and cut a rug today just before noon. An earthquake centered in Chino, CA. measured 5.8ish in magnitude shook our office like a salt shaker. I was on the phone with a city official and we didn’t quite know what to do except to continue on with our conversation!

 

Shaken (no pun intended) by the moments of quaking that escalated in intensity until the end, my colleagues and I needed some good ol’ comfort food to get the adrenaline out of our systems so we could continue working for the day.

 

We went to Yogurtland, and tried practically every single flavor on the wall. A few sweet bites later, we felt back to normal, and headed back in the office to continue the day.

 

 

This just in… I love a good deal. In this economy, I think everyone does too! In honor of stretching your dollars but still enjoying an indulgence or two, go to Cheesecake Factory tomorrow only (7/30) for any slice of heaven for only $1.50! It’s National Cheesecake Day and CF’s 30th anniversary so go out there and enjoy!     Celebrate National Cheesecake Day with 1.50 Cheesecake! In celebration of our 30th Anniversary, on Wednesday, July 30th, The Cheesecake Factory will offer every delicious slice of our more than 30 varieties of cheesecake for 1.50 per slice to dine-in guests (limit one per guest) - just like we did when we opened our first restaurant back in 1978! It's no coincidence that Wednesday, July 30th, also happens to be National Cheesecake Day. After all, what better time to enjoy the cheesecake you absolutely love! As you know, sharing is part of the fun at The Cheesecake Factory so feel free to share the news about this special offer with your friends. So, come celebrate with us on National Cheesecake Day. And, stay tuned for more news about our 30th Anniversary Celebration!   Limit one per guest, dine-in only. Valid only on July 30, 2008. You are receiving this email because you have indicated you would like to receive email updates from us. To unsubscribe click here.

 

Today

I am grateful for:

 

-today

-the good in people

-simplicity

Today

I am grateful for:

 

*Good karma

*Family

*A roof above my head!

 

Today

I am grateful for:

 

*My sun kissed summer skin

*Optimism

*23 margaritas at El Torito for $57.50! (Joan’s bday dinner..don’t get the impression that I chugged all of those on my own!)

I'm grateful for..

*sincere apologies

*not sweating the small stuff

*laughter

Cardio barre

I woke up bright and early to join Joan for a cardio barre class today in Studio City. I pass by the studio on my drive in to work and have noticed it's a full house most of the time. I don't know who came first: Cardio Barre or The Bar Method but, hey-tomato tamatoe it's basically the same thing.

Well, I gotta say it was pretty good, I worked up a nice sweat, the pace of class was quick, but one irk was that I couldn't check my form in the mirrors because the class was wall 2 wall full of people. I didn't really do any exercise I've done before, but it was challenging enough because of the seemingly endless reps of each move. The ab section doesn't hold a candle to Colin K's ab class at Crunch, though.

Worth the $16 every once in a while when I'm too lazy to drive over the hill to Crunch, but not enough of a wow factor to make me a loyal fan quite yet.
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Lake bake

This afternoon I went w/ the BF to Lake Piru with the intent to surprise the family. 3 hours into our search for them in hopes to catch them on their way in for a break, we decided to lay out on a hilltop overlooking the lake to get some tan time in while waiting.

When we finally saw them the BF had a 'tude blowout with his bros so we ended up going back to the camp site, battled equipment going awry, ate a little, drank a little, went back home to shower, and then went to watch 1/2 of hulk (don't ask)!
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Visualize this

Visualization as a way to create reality is not some new agey bullshit. It's testament to the power of thought, and what you attract into your life. Ever notice when you focus your thought on something bad, you often fulfill your self-created prophesy? Same rules apply if you expose and train your mind towards the positive.

Pro athletes have known this strategy for ages, and they still do it to this day. High powered CEO's close their eyes and picture themselves giving a flawless speech seconds before they physically step up on the platform to do it.

Of course, you have to back up the power of your mind with actual effort and action. But, it all starts with your thoughts. This is the difference between mediocrity and greatness.

I refuse to leave my fate up to the state of that which is out of my control. I was reminded of this "life treasure map" after reading the millionaire mommy next door blog. Thanks MMND!
Although naysayers may look at my visualization board as nothing but a bunch of pictures and sayings taped to a board, I beg to differ.

It's an expression of my life in the now, so that I can consciously put it out there and gravitate closer and closer to what will be my reality. I dare you to harness the power of your mind and look at how closely your present comes to what you have taped to your board a year from the day you created it. What have you got to lose except a board, some magazines, and tape..right?

I am hanging this in the hallway where I get ready every morning, so that its the one of the first things I see at the start of every day.

Many successful people have done this and reaped the benefits (again, I can't overemphasize the need to take the action necessary to propel what you have called in with your thoughts). Jim Carrey used the same principle when he was a struggling stand up comedian. He took out a check and wrote himself a million dollar check. Today he can cash that check ten times over and then some.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Bruce Lee and its the perfect way to close this post:

"To hell with circumstances; I create opportunities."

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