i so appreciate the kind words, advice and encouragement you all have sent me. It's really heartwarming to read the comments and e-mails, and your suggestions are very welcome. i also appreciate the stories of hard decisions and their results that a lot of you have sent me, too. Makes me feel like i'm not alone. Also, i learned that some of you are contemplating even bigger life changes than me and to you i say, good luck. i'll be pulling for you, too.

i'm probably going to accept the offer from the good school. i spoke to a number of friends and some lawyers at work, who were also very helpful and encouraging. The partner i worked for told me that he would recommend me for a clerkship or part time job during the school year at their branch office up there.

My Dad seems okay with it. He says, "well we'll just have to go visit you." But i know he wanted me to go to UCLA, or Pepperdine. i didn't get into UCLA, but Pepperdine was his second choice for me because they're a relatively conservative law school. Still, he understands that the scholarship changes the equation.

My Mom remains the tough nut. She really laid it on thick last night. And it's not a situation of her desires vs. my desires. i don't want to leave her. It's not an easy decision for me. She suggested that i go for one year and try again to transfer to UCLA. That seems like an unwise way to go. i'm told law school transfers are not as easy as undergrad, nor are they a good idea, since it's only three years. It's better to stick with the same program. My plan is to convince her that three years is not that long, i'll visit every month or so, and that i will plan on coming back here when i'm done. She seemed really sad and worried last night, though. Which makes me feel like a total shithole.

Posted by: annika at 11:20 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
Post contains 343 words, total size 2 kb.

Bear with me. Stream of consciousness and all that.*

Sometimes you build a life and when it's built you say, that's good, i like it, i think i'll stay here for a while. Then you congratulate yourself, but it's all vanity. You have no control over where you'll be, or what, from one day to the next. And you think you can insulate yourself from the hard choices, but God finds a way to stir things up anyway. And it sucks.

No, i'm not pregnant.

i got accepted to a pretty good law school. Trouble is, it was a fallback school, because it's in a place that i had not planned to move to. To make things "worse," they offered me a scholarship. A big one. Too much money to just dismiss. i got into some other schools too, but they didn't offer to take me for free, and they're not as good.

The whole damn reason i left all my friends, save one, and moved here to L.A. was to be near my parents. It's part guilt and part love. They're getting up there in years. Both of them have had health problems recently and i've been glad to be here and near them. i don't want to be away and get the call. You know the call i'm talking about. i don't want to know that i wasn't here for them. My brother is useless in these things. It's gotta be me, to take care of them if they need it.

Oh, they're fine now. Perfect health. i'm just afraid, really terrified something will happen and i won't be here. That's the guilt part. My Dad can take care of himself better than my Mom, but he's the one with the more serious health problems. Still, sometimes i go through life just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe it's guilt that says i can't accept something nice happening to me. Maybe i'm just a baby who after all these years can't leave my parents. i think back on the other times when i was at a crossroads and i always picked the secure road, forsaking the road to adulthood. Colby is the big one. i could be married now, but i couldn't jump into that really big unknown. When he came back and wanted to give it a second try, i bugged out on him.

Oh, the self-pity and wailing and melancholy over such good news. What's wrong with me. Most people accept change in their lives. Most people look for it. People are always trying to move forward. i didn't want to, really. i'm happy doing what i'm doing. Working one day to the next, looking forward to each weekend, and then the next. Not making any plans. i'll quit smoking when i'm ready, etc.

The damn LSAT came back and it was good. A few points lower than i'd hoped, but still good enough to open a lot of possibilities. Too good not to apply to Law School. Then the applications went out. A couple of rejections from some places i'd been counting on. Wait-listed at a reach. Then this one.

i suppose i'll have to go. It's only three years. Really, i want to go. I'm excited about going, despite what i've typed above. Really excited. It's just that i seem to want to cry every time i think about leaving my parents. And i don't even visit them all that often. Certainly not as often as i should. And when i do visit, perhaps i grumble and argue a bit more than i should too. Maybe that's part of the guilt trip.

At the root, i have a big problem doing things for me alone. i don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. It keeps one from being too selfish. i'm very aware of not wanting to be selfish. Though i think i am. Egotistical too. Hell, i write a blog, i got a big ego. i just don't want a big ego. But i gotta do something for me sometime. i can't keep putting it off, like i had wanted to.

The choice is this. Take the better opportunity, push myself, and deal with the worry. Or take a lesser opportunity and coast. If i go up north again, i will have to come back to L.A. a lot, if only to assuage my worries and so they won't miss me. i'll miss the people and the life i've built here, but i may like it up there too.

It's so hard to decide. i've known for a long time that i am a very indecisive person. Lacking real ambition too. Lazy, etc. Whatever.

i have to let them know by Monday.

* Written in a horrible fit of self-doubt, and pity. Not to be construed as the way the blog's author is actually normally in real life. Just a look inside her soul, for a little bit. Aaaack! A word from God would be good right about now.

Posted by: annika at 09:51 AM | Comments (25) | Add Comment
Post contains 850 words, total size 4 kb.

"Hi Mom, is Derrick there?"

"Hold on sweetie, i'll get him."

Long pause, then Mom came on the phone again.

"Annie."

"Yah?"

"Derrick said he's kinda busy right now. He's in the middle of something. He'll call you back later."

"What's he doing?"

"I think he said he was pulling his throttle body."

"Ooo-kay Mom . . . ," i giggled, "i guess he'll need some privacy then."

(Hey, what do i know about cars?)

Posted by: annika at 10:05 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 85 words, total size 1 kb.

So my roommate and i are going up north for our birthdays next week. As you may or may not know, Betty and i were born on the exact same day. i haven’t been back there since last June and i’m looking forward to seeing all my old friends. Our dance card is pretty full already. One of my exes, Tomasz, heard that i was coming up and he gave me a call tonight, while Jason was over, so that was kinda uncomfortable. Tommy is unique in that we've always gotten along much better since we stopped dating than we ever did during our year together. We’re still pretty close. But new boyfriends always seem to think they have to compete with old boyfriends. If we were lions, they’d have to fight it out amongst themselves. But of course, we’re humans, not lions, so i think Jason should get over it. Tommy wanted to invite me and Betty to a dinner party next Friday, given by his software company. They’re rolling out some new game this month and they rented out a nice restaurant to celebrate. Of course i want to go, it sounds like fun and i would like to see him again. Nothing sneaky, i don’t have any feelings for Tommy, other than friendship. He’s quite an interesting fellow. We met when i was in undergrad and dated during sophmore and junior year. He’s one in a series of bald headed musicians that i managed to get mixed up with. Tommy is the drummer/DJ/computer-wiz with the less-than-serious personality. A big tatooed guy who sometimes quoted Shakespeare and liked to get into fistfights while drunk, which seemed to happen a lot in the old days. That’s the thing about drummers. Getting drunk and fighting is an occupational requirement for them. In fact, Tommy got in a fistfight with some guy on the night we met. We were both shitfaced. i was at a bar, playing pool, drinking Jack and Coke. He flirted like crazy with me. He was so cocky and forward, but i ate it up because i was much more immature than i am now (at least i think so). He said shit like: “You’re real cute, i bet you kiss good too.” Yah, yah, i know; i said i was immature back then, okay? Pretty soon we ended up making out in the hallway leading to the bar’s bathroom. Yes, right in the midst of all those people waiting in line. Then somehow we got separated and i didn’t see him again until later on when there was a big commotion near the entrance. It was Tomasz, swinging his arms at another dude and not connecting, because one of the bouncers had him in a headlock. He and the other guy got thrown out into the street. i remember it was raining hard. i went out to see if he was okay. He was fine, not a scratch on either of them. Since it was pouring, Tommy gave me a ride back home and the rest is history. We had a lot of fun together for the first three months, which is my typical honeymoon period with guys. One of the most memorable experiences of my life was when i got to sing in front of Tommy’s band. We practiced for a month before the gig and i sang two songs in a little club, which has since closed down. i’ve never been so nervous in my life. i was much more nervous than i had been when i played Guenevere in high school or when i soloed in the choir. After the gig, the band told me that i did great, but the guitar player said that he’d love to have me do it again after another couple months of practice. Somehow, that didn’t sound too encouraging. Anyway, i had no intention of ever singing with a band again, even though i had a blast. i’m just too shy. Tommy and i finally broke up because we started arguing all the time over stupid shit. We tried getting back together a few times over the years, but it never worked out. He was my first real serious boyfriend, and i learned an important lesson from our relationship. We fought because we were young and we thought it was good to say whatever was on our minds, which i now know is not necessarily a good thing. i mean, when you’re with someone, you still have to make an effort to be polite and watch how you express yourself. You can’t take everything to heart and you definitely can’t bark at each other over every little thing, which is what we did. Being fucked up most of the time didn't help either. Also, Tommy’s a Taurus, which is a big no-no for me. But like i said, we’ve been great friends since we stopped dating and i do miss hanging out with him. In fact, he came to my graduation last year, even though Pete, my loser ex, blew it off. There’s an ex whom i have no desire to bump into while i’m in S.F. i have no idea what Pete’s doing these days, nor do i care.

Posted by: annika at 10:51 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 883 words, total size 5 kb.

Sitting around the apt. with Jason, my roomie and my brother, the following subject came up for discussion. What song was playing on the car radio when you got your first ticket? i think it's interesting that we all remembered, even though not all of us could remember the specifics of the traffic violation.

My song was sooo ironic, it wasn't even funny. When i saw the siren in my rear-view mirror i had been singing along to Ace of Base's "The Sign" at top volume. You remember how it goes:

I saw the sign,
And it opened up my eyes.
I saw the sign.

Posted by: annika at 09:10 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 125 words, total size 1 kb.

1 I remember precisely where and when I first got pulled over: the street, the time of day, the day of the week, the exact date in fact. (It was Saturday, September 5, 1987 -- three days after my seventeenth birthday, for which Mom and Dad gave me the '76 Cadillac El Dorado that I was driving when I got nailed.) But I don't remember what was on the radio then, or for any of my subsequent warnings/tickets. (I only got a warning that time, because the cop knew my dad.) Sorry to be the spoilsport!

Posted by: Matt Rustler at March 23, 2004 09:18 PM (of2d1)

2 I don't remember the song that was playing the one and only time I got nabbed for speeding. I was too pissed at the SOB Statey who had been on my bumper in the left lane for about 2 miles and only pulled me over when I sped up to get past the car in the center lane so he could get buy. (pointing that fact out to the arrogant prick didn't seem to help) I do remember that I was on my way to a date that would wind up completely changing my life - so it wasn't all bad.

Posted by: Stephen Macklin at March 24, 2004 05:12 AM (CSxVi)

3 Natalie Merchant's "Carnival" . . . I've hated the song ever since.

Posted by: Amy at March 24, 2004 06:51 AM (RpVKX)

4 You mean you liked Carnival before? Ugh.

Posted by: Scipio at March 24, 2004 07:14 AM (14dkq)

5 *insert derogatory comment about Ace of Base here* ...i do not remember what song was playing, i smoked too much pot in college and it erased the high school shit.

Posted by: Scof at March 24, 2004 09:23 AM (XCqS+)

6 It was June 1990; the Georgia Satellites song about "Don't hand me no lines and keep your hands to yourself". Made an illegal left turn near the UCLA campus...

Posted by: Hugo at March 24, 2004 09:53 AM (9ndHD)

7 So, what were you smoking when you had that conversation?

Posted by: casca at March 24, 2004 12:09 PM (XpK3X)

8 Marlboro Lights for me, Lucky Strike lights for Betty, and my boyfriend and my brother do not smoke.

Posted by: annie at March 24, 2004 01:57 PM (zAOEU)

9 Well, I was actually listening to Simon and Garfunkle....was in that mood that day. The song that was playing? Bridge Over Troubled Water. And I, too, was singing the chorus at top volume when I got pulled over.

Posted by: Serenity at March 24, 2004 07:46 PM (GChd/)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

. . . Sunday morning in L.A. The promised Summer weather hit with a bang this weekend. It's warm. There are still some wintry bare trees, as it seems the foliage hasn't yet caught up with the sun . . .

. . . i missed the morning mass and will have to go to this evening's. ThatÂ’s not a bad thing, they have an excellent contemporary choir at my churchÂ’s 5:00 service. At most every other Sunday evening mass, the music is “god-awful.” But there are so many entertainment types in my parish, our choir is probably stacked with professional singers . . .

. . . i want to play today, but i have several icky chores to accomplish. Oil change, wash the car, go in to work and finish time sheets. The oil change and car wash i dread. That means sitting on a plastic bench, waiting, for at least an hour and a half, probably two hours total, since everybody waits 'til the weekend to do those things and it will be crowded . . .

. . . Yesterday's shopping was most satisfactory. Two striped sleeveless tees, khaki short shorts, mid length cargo shorts, a pink beach hoodie with matching drawstring shorts, pair of all purpose jeans, two pair of capris, flip-flops to match the earthtone outfits, a pink pair for lighter colorey looks and a light blue pair with rainbow straps for general usage. i'm still not done, but i must wait for the next pay period to refurbish my clubbing and beach wardrobes. Then i'll be ready for summer . . .

Still awake?

. . . On to the blogosphere, it seems to be a quiet Sunday morning, as Stephen noted. LeeAnn also ponders the Sunday blogger's dilemma. When the weather is so-so, there's nothing i like more than to spend Sunday morning on the computer. But when it's nice, like today, i'd rather be playing. i'm here now because i'm trying to put off my chores . . .

. . . i see that Anne (straight from the hip) is enjoying her return to L.A. Her visit to Warner Bros. reminded me of the two times i was on that lot, about five years ago. i came down from S.F. with Betty for a visit, after one of her college friends got a job at WB. She invited us to a private movie screening for employees, which i guess they do twice a week.

When we got there, Betty and i just walked onto the lot. The security guy at the gate didn't even look our way. i had thought that studios were supposed to be tight with the security. Of course, that was before 9/11; i doubt they'd allow that nowadays. The theater was modern and pretty state-of-the-art, as far as i could tell. There wasnÂ’t an empty seat in the house. Really comfortable seating, too. And a very loud sound system.

i can't remember the movie we saw, but it was some lame action flick and they had the volume turned waaay up. Like seemingly everyone else i've met from "the business," Betty's friend was a total stoner, and she kept getting out of her seat to look for her connection. Nobody seemed to mind her, even though we werenÂ’t sitting on the aisle. i guess most of the people knew each other, it was a kind of social event.

A couple of days later we all met for lunch at the Warner Brothers commissary. That was fabulous. i don't remember what we ate, it was probably meatloaf or turkey or something. It didn't really matter, i was too starstruck. Everybody in there was either attractive or famous. i saw Drew Carey, who smiled at me, and George Cloonie, who's just as much a babe as he is on the screen. That was back in the days before i realized he was an idiot; i think he might have just finished with The Peacemaker or maybe it was Three Kings.

Then we went to the Warner Brothers employee store, where the CDs seemed to be selling at wholesale prices, not including employee discount. If i had known the girl better i would have asked her to buy the Led Zeppelin, box set, which was normally over a hundred bucks, but with her discount i think i could have got it for like forty.

Then we walked around the lot and got a close up look at the fake buildings and the sound stages. That was better than going on the Universal Studios tour, because we saw the actual everyday working sets, not HollywoodÂ’s version of Hollywood you get on the Universal tour . . .

Okay, whatever, enough rambling. iÂ’m off to Jiffy Lube.

Posted by: annika at 11:45 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
Post contains 804 words, total size 5 kb.

Did you see the recent Gallup poll, which says that Republicans are more likely to be in love than Democrats? Who knew? i guess for the Dems, it's all about the sex.

As for myself, well, gee, i don't know. A few months ago i would have said no, definitely no. Now, i'm not too sure. Last night, a bit more was added to the yes side of my romance ledger by yours truly's significant other.

First thing we did was catch a matinee showing of The Return of the King. That was by my request. i wanted to see it one more time before the Oscars. It was my first time seeing it with Jason, and i promised myself i would not cry during the final act. But i did, silly sentimental me. i sobbed as usual. It was embarrassing; i got J's shoulder all wet.

Afterwards, we ate at an Italian place in Pasadena, which was way too crowded even though it was still early. We had a nice dinner and exchanged gifts. He gave me a bracelet, which is just beautiful. The gems aren't real of course, but i don't mind. i can't help it if my birthstones are so expensive. i bought him a fountain pen.

Afterwards, we strolled through Old Pasadena. We went into a cigar store just for the smell, and almost bought a couple of stogies. i resisted the temptation to go into Barnes & Noble. We walked through the Banana Republic and the Pottery Barn, and all the while we kept each other laughing with witty repartee.

We arrived at another overcrowded bar that i wanted to go into. We looked at the line outside and Jason said, "this sucks, I have a better idea." He led me back to his car but refused to tell me where we were going. Finally i realized why he wanted to have our Valentine's date in Pasadena: he'd bought tickets to the Pasadena Jazz Institute's Coltrane tribute. What a surprise! Jason's not a jazz fan, but he must have noticed the stack of Coltrane CDs in my room. That was so thoughtful of him. i enjoyed the show a lot. i hope J did too, but i'm afraid some of that music can be an acquired taste.

There was a little bit of juvenile hand holding and giggling too, which can be fun. Jason is actually a very charming, decent and nice guy. My opinion of him when we first met wasn't awful, but i did think he was something of a player. Now that we know each other better, i see him differently and i'm impressed. So all in all i had a very romantic time yesterday. Definitely one of my nicer Valentine's Days. After Colby and Tommy and Pete, i think deserve a nice one.

Posted by: annika at 01:12 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 478 words, total size 3 kb.

As i was walking through the lobby just now, Norman smiled at me and said "hey you." i smiled and said "hi," and kept walking. Then he said, "what's going on?" i said, "huh?" and kept walking. i had a stack of papers in my hand because, as usual, i was busy working. i don't have time to stand at the receptionist desk and shoot the shit, like he apparently has time to do. Then he asked, "are you ignoring me?" My response to that question was to ignore him and keep walking.

i feel like everybody in the firm knows he likes me and half of them think we're some sort of item, which boggles my mind. Enough with the knowing smiles, already. What has he been saying to them? i know i sound like a bitch, but it is becoming increasingly more difficult not to be rude.

Posted by: annika at 12:36 PM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
Post contains 153 words, total size 1 kb.

Homo Sapiens Gigantostalkersaurus Rex. King of the giant stalking lizards.

Dude, you're huge. Dude, i can smell your b.o. Dude, your farts fucking linger twenty minutes after you leave the room.

Dude, stop bothering me while i'm trying to work. Dude, if you stand by my cubicle and want to "just say hi," and i refuse to make eye contact, and i keep typing while you talk about total bullshit, which i don't care about, that means i'm busy. There's a good chance that it also means i don't like you.

No, i don't like you like you either.

Dude, i know Valentine's day is coming up. Don't even think about it. If you slither anywhere near me on that day, i'll hurt you.

More: The thing that really creeps me out about Gigantostalkersaurus Rex, now that i think of it, is a little story he told me when he first started working here. This was back when everybody was being polite to the new temp, before he earned his nickname Norman. As in Norman Bates.

i had the misfortune of standing at the copier waiting for Norman to finish with a copy job one morning and we got on the subject of hiking. i like to hike. Seems Norman also likes to hike. i told him about a recent excursion i'd made up north of S.F., and how beautiful the country was up there.

That's when he shared the fact that he likes to go hiking alone. He also shared how much he loves frogs. At that moment i thought to myself: how interesting, because you resemble a frog so terribly much.

One time, when Norman was hiking in the hills all by himself he spied a muddy waterhole populated by a couple of his favorite ribbity friends. He was so happy to see them, he told me, that he "tore off all his clothes and jumped right in the mud with the frogs!"

i shit you not. The freak actually said that to me. i still can't figure out why anyone would admit that, but he did.

At that moment i decided to illuminate the "Warning, Weirdo Alert" siren in my head and take evasive manuevers. Picking up my own copy job, i made some excuse about needing to check my phone messages or something and retreated the fuck outta there.

That was about three months ago. i've been avoiding him ever since, but unfortunately he seems to think i'm playing hard to get.

Blech! Blech!

Posted by: annika at 12:09 PM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
Post contains 426 words, total size 2 kb.

This evening dined with Mr. Jason, and my lady Betty, and her gentleman, which occasioned our thinking and remarking upon the happy life that we live now, having we nothing to care for but ourselves. Mr. Jason treated me most nobly, procuring a great platter of ribbonned dough seasoned in the Sicilian manner, and many flagons of ale and a bottle of wine, which was of very great flavour.

All our discourse and others are of his excellency's election, and we begin to speak of it very freely, and of Mr. Dean's outcry and of Mr. Kerry, who does wish to renounce the parliament and reside at his excellency's manse, supplanting his excellency thereby. Strange how these people do now promise anything: to each pauper a station, to each guild a full purse of coin, to each gentleman wisened with years a vessel of chemist's physic. I pray God to keep me from being too much lifted up thereby.

After that we went forth onto the high street and looked to buy a pair of tanned boots of sorrel hue and belt and hose, and finding none, after that Mr. Jason and the other gentleman led us to Brittania Tavern in Saint Monica's Lane, where Mr. H— and Mr. S— were, and we drank a great deal more of ale, and malted whiskey, and outside smoked the tobacco weed, and they paid all.

From thence to the Yankee Doodle tavern, where standing at the door Miss D— comes by, with her gentleman, and the two of them appearing very fond and loving to the other, and filled with drink. It pleasing us to admit them into our companie, we entered the tavern thusly and much merry making and reverie did come to pass, whilst betimes our gentlemen made to wager after the carom of the billiard.

After that took leave of our friends, who each of them was very sorry to part with us and such, and returned by my lady's carriage to Brent's Wood, and disembarking at the mews, retired by a lift conveyance to our dwelling flat, wherein we sat and talked, and beheld the television device before repairing to our respective chambers.

While in the midst of my ablutions and preparation for the bedchamber, did rang out from the telephone apparatus the announcement of my gentleman's very presence at the vestibule of our dwelling abode, though he bade us farewell but three quarters of the hour past. Still sleepy with drink and attired for the night, yet i took the gentleman into my chambers upstairs, and there did we dally a great while, drinking a mild beverage and talking till the gentleman began to be most loving to me and kind, whereupon was sustained the Latin nulla puella negat, but happily.

Posted by: annika at 02:26 PM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
Post contains 482 words, total size 3 kb.

1 Your best yet, Annika. Pepys is proud. Do nice girls ever say no?

Posted by: Hugo at February 07, 2004 02:51 PM (R7IeP)

2 Right. OK. Fine. But didya get any?????? to each gentleman wisened with years a vessel of chemist's physic. Victorian Viagra! (Wonder if that'll have a hope in hell of getting through Pixy's Blacklist?) Beautifully done.

Posted by: Light & Dark at February 07, 2004 09:15 PM (Hrm9v)

3 Bravo! Excellente tournure. Kevin

Posted by: Kevin Kim at February 08, 2004 06:23 AM (WOf5M)

4 Actually, this version is somehow much more interesting than Peyps's.

Posted by: Matt Rustler at February 08, 2004 05:26 PM (of2d1)

5 "Pepys's," that is.

Posted by: Matt Rustler at February 08, 2004 05:27 PM (of2d1)

6 thanks, my pepys. i mean peeps.

Posted by: annika! at February 08, 2004 06:02 PM (TGZxa)

7 Prithee m'lady understand how her beauty of posting device has left us in a most betimely state of awe! Oh...and, hope the sex was great, too!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at February 08, 2004 06:31 PM (tN726)

8 A most delightful tale of merriment and mirth.

Posted by: Tiger at February 09, 2004 08:16 AM (qWgy0)

9 That is one of the best posts I have ever seen, on any blog. How creative!!

Posted by: ginger at February 09, 2004 11:12 AM (WX5CY)

10 find 'em, feed 'em, fuck 'em, forget 'em.

Posted by: JimmyCrackCorn at February 09, 2004 11:22 AM (/vawD)

11 nulla puella negat 1. "No young women says not" 2. "No young woman/girl refuses/denies [none/anything]" 3. "She refused me nothing"

Posted by: The Agnostic at February 09, 2004 04:27 PM (e09SV)

12 I don't know much about trackback, Annie, but I think yours may be malfunctioning. I linked to this post yesterday, but it's not showing up.

Posted by: Matt Rustler at February 09, 2004 09:17 PM (of2d1)

13 Ya know, letters to Penthouse usually work better when they're written in English.

Posted by: Victor at February 10, 2004 10:46 AM (L3qPK)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

i promised you news of my doings during my recent trip to Detroit. We didn't work on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, so our hosts gave us tickets to the North American International Auto Show at the Cobo Center. Always thinking of you, my visitors, i took some photographs of the cars that really impressed me.

Outside it was freezing cold. i'm not used to it. i'm a Californian, my nordic blood notwithstanding. Snow is something that belongs in the mountains. You ski on it. You don't drive on it. 50° is about as cold as i want it to be outside. Not fucking 20°!

There were five of us. Paul and i were the two senior paralegals, Linda and Grace the two associates, and Patricia the temp paralegal. The other temp, Kathy, stayed in the hotel room nursing the flu, which she eventually passed on to the rest of us.

The convention center was a sea of people. On the day we were there, the attendance was 41,415! And at any given time, at least one of the five of us was lost. Someone was always lagging behind, gawking at a vehicle, or in Paul's case, gawking at a spokesmodel. We used up a lot of cellphone minutes just trying to keep track of each other. Here's a view of the bedlam that greeted us inside the Cobo center.

One of the first cars that caught our eye was this Lincoln convertible concept car. Everything is going retro these days, but i think Ford did a real nice job on this baby. A little stodgy for my taste, but cool nonetheless. One thing i really liked was the pale cream colored leather interior. It was almost bluish; i've never seen a color like it. The official pictures are here.

No one does retro like Jaguar, though.

The Pontiac Solstice will be available next year, so i was told. It looks great, but i remember how shitty the Fiero was. Hopefully Pontiac has learned their lesson.

About lunchtime we all went out to the concession stands and paid through the nose for some hot dogs and sodas, which they called "pop." There was some sort of rock band playing music in the arena and we hung out there while we ate. Unfortunately, being the only smoker in the group i had to duck outside and freeze my ass to keep my nicotine levels up. Paul was nice enough to accompany me and chase away any homeless dudes, while i smoked.

We all kidded Linda about getting a new car. She makes a shitload of money, but she's still driving the same car she had in law school. A beat up Corolla from the eighties! She doesn't want to get rid of it because it's paid for and it still runs great. But we made it our mission to select Linda's next car and then apply relentless pressure on her until she buys it. My pick was this thing:

Too bad it's only a concept car and not on the market yet. It's called the Subaru B9SC Roadster, it's a hybrid and it is phat! Official pics are here. The windshield is made of special glass that changes the tint like some sunglasses do. Confidentially, i think Linda needs to upgrade her image to something sportier. Maybe this car will be available for sale by the time her Toyota finally craps out on her.

Paul noted that Linda's style is, shall we say, simple, tasteful, conservative . . . maybe somewhat dowdy. i don't think she considered that a compliment. At any rate, Paul encouraged her to stay with what made her comfortable. His choice for Linda's next vehicle was the Chrysler 300. That didn't go over too well either. i didn't take a picture of it, but here's what it looks like. Contemporarily stodgy. A bit more mature than my friend would like to go.

i think we all agreed on Linda's future car when we saw the new BMW mini SUV. We fell in love with it. It's called the X3. i sat in it and it's wonderful. So comfy. i just love the seats in german cars.

i didn't take any pictures of the X3 because it was at that moment that i heard music and birds singing and a heavenly light shone down and i became dizzy with feelings of intense desire. i saw this vehicle:

Oh yes, my darlings. BMW has revived the 6 series. In convertible. i stood there slack jawed and repeated to myself, "yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . 645ci, you are mine, baby!" Sure i'll never be able to afford it without marrying rich. But lemme dream, okay? i would look so damn good driving along Sunset in that bitch with the top down at a ridiculously high rate of speed. i get all weak and tingly just thinking about it. Gaze at these official pics, if you will. It's simply gorgeous.

After they dragged me away from my new love, we all went back to the hotel to rest and get ready for the evening. We met up with some of the in-house people for our client, who drove us down to a place called Dave & Buster's, which is apparently a chain, although it was the first i'd heard of them. They make a very good desert with bananas and caramel sauce.

The place is like an adult video arcade. Paul was in heaven. i tried a few of the shooting games, but i really liked the airplane simulator, even though i kept crashing. We had fun even though we couldn't get rip-roaring drunk like we wanted. We tried to keep up appearances since we were with the client's employees and we had to work early the next day.

And that was how i spent my MLK day.

Posted by: annika at 10:33 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 996 words, total size 7 kb.

One night last month during the holidays, while i visited my mom and dad, we all watched The Tonight Show. As he often does, my dad started comparing Leno to Johnny Carson.

“Boy, I sure miss Carson,” he said.

“Me too,” mom added. “He was the best. Jay Leno just doesn’t compare.”

Dad turned to me. “Sissy, you’re too young to remember Carson, but there was a time when people used to stay up every night just to watch his monologue,” he said.

“i do so remember Carson.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “No she doesn’t.”

“Yah mom, i do,” i retorted. “He had white hair. He wasn’t very funny. i like Leno better.”

Dad was appalled. “Wasn’t funny? C’mon! Let me tell you something little girl, Carson was great even when he wasn’t funny.”

“Yes. Everybody knew his monologues weren’t funny. It didn’t matter. We just loved to watch him,” mom said. “He was like a good friend.”

i had no idea my parents felt so strongly about the old man.

Mom continued. “I remember during the writers’ strike when Johnny had to write his own jokes. He was very funny then.”

“Oh yes, he was,” dad nodded. “Very funny.”

“But let me tell you,” my dad leaned forward, a serious look flashing across his face, “there were three times when Carson was so good that you made sure you stayed up to watch him.”

“When was that?” i asked.

“Whenever Don Rickles, Buddy Hackett or Pete Fountain were guests.”

“Pete Fountain?” i laughed.

“Yes, you know Pete Fountain. Played clarinet. Died a few years ago.”

“You and your Pete Fountain, dear,” mom chuckled.

i grew up listening to Pete Fountain records. My dad worshipped the guy.

“Of course,” dad said. “Rickles, Hackett and Pete Fountain. You didn’t miss Carson when any of those guys were on.” My dad’s face became wistful. “You know, you can’t say that about any talk show these days. There’s nobody today that compares. Nobody that makes you say, ‘hey I gotta stay up and watch tonight.’”

i tried to think of a guest who might compel me to watch Leno, or Letterman, in the way my dad used to stay up to watch Carson and Rickles, et al., but i drew a blank.

Until today, when Lileks guest hosted on HewittÂ’s show.

Maybe it’s not the same thing, ‘cause it’s radio, but lemme tell you, when i hear that Lileks is going to be on the Hugh Hewitt show, i make darn sure i tune in that day. Lileks is as awesome on the radio as he is in print. When Lileks was cracking on "nude Hugh" with his bald head and hairy back running from the police, i was dying. That was funny stuff. He may not play the clarinet, but i'd stack James Lileks up against Buddy Hackett any day.

Update: Brad at Infinite Monkeys writes about his call in to the show, which i heard.

Posted by: annika at 06:22 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
Post contains 500 words, total size 3 kb.

Strangely, i've been somewhat productive today. Even after putzing around on the internet all morning and taking a super long lunch. But i don't feel like i've done anything, and i can't wait to get out of here. i'm such a total clock-watcher.

i don't know why i feel so lethargic. Maybe it's that i'm just coming off the flu. Maybe it's that i think i should really be in Hawaii right now, lazily floating on my back in the water of Kaneohe Bay. Paddling just enough to keep the tropical sun on my face. Looking out at that cute little island called Fisherman's Hat. Vaguely paranoid about the jellyfish and stingrays. Looking forward to some roast Kailua pig or maybe just a bowl of Zippy's chili rice. Playing ultimate frisbee with the friendly locals at the park, or dancing at one of them touristy dives in Waikiki. A Mai Tai or a Blue Hawaii in my hand. Going shopping at the Ala Moana in a bikini top and shorts. Eating fresh pineapple and mango and lychee and mountain apples. Seeing two or three rainbows every day. etc. etc.

. . .

Fuck, i'm still here.

Posted by: annika at 04:14 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
Post contains 206 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Shit - you said the F* word! (thank you)

Posted by: d-rod at January 28, 2004 04:34 PM (CSRmO)

2 Good gravy, is Ala Moana still there? Stay away from Waikiki--hook up with someone in the military and hit the beach at Hickam Field. We used to go there every Sunday when I was a kid, although every now and then the beach would be covered w/ Portuguese Men o' War, which sucked. But we were kids...we could have fun doing anything...

Posted by: Victor at January 29, 2004 05:26 AM (L3qPK)

3 Hey, am I a Portuguese Man o' War? I don't know about Hickam Field and wasn't in the military, but Kaua'i is nice and peaceful. Pineapples, mangos, rainbows, waterfalls, white sand and bikinis... yummy. About 1000 miles due south of Hawaii are the Cook Islands which are gorgeous except that you really have to be careful to not step on stone fish.

Posted by: d-rod at January 29, 2004 07:38 AM (bHz2Q)

4 Regarding work: it's too bad you can't do something I like to do up here at UC Davis: "partial attendance".

Posted by: Chris at January 29, 2004 02:03 PM (uMU3+)

Hide Comments | Add Comment

Danger. annika is now hooked up at work. i finally figured out my login and MT is in effect. i can feel my productivity plummet as i type this. : )

Posted by: annika at 09:01 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
Post contains 39 words, total size 1 kb.