Arms Down, Starr!

I'm trying to practice this whole calm, cool, and collected thing and avoid emotional outbursts like "Ken Starr repulses me!" and "I hope this oratorical pipsqueak falls down the stairs on his way out of the courthouse so that I can argue with him over whether a constitutional amendment might help him retroactively avoid that terminal skull fracture!" . . . . However, at the very least, I think he has got to stop using his arms to talk. Good lord. Super glue those things down so that we can focus on your clever bigoted argument and not on your pasty white, manicured hands.

Going Green, and probably feeling green while you do it

If this isn't classic save-the-planet, Birkenstock-wearin', granola-munchin' Californian conversation, I don't know what is.

Check out this article on the Composting Toilet!

In my opinion, I think that before our golden state has to honor any water rationing, that the Governator should have to use one of these himself for a month. I'm thinking that Arnold's Mr. Olympia breakfast of steak, eggs, chicken, and potatoes byproducts might take a wee bit longer to decompose than your average bowl of oatmeal topped with bananas and brown sugar, eh?

Actually, it's encouraging to see this article. I used to watch the show "It's Not Easy Being Green" which chronicled the green living pursuits of the Strawbridge family on their farm, and I must say that I was blown away by the composting outhouse they built on the property. I also think that a quaint, well-built green outhouse seems slightly less "gross" than a composting toilet sitting in your home.

Desert Garden

On my last trip to the Huntington, I snapped close to 100 great shots of all the gardens, including the desert garden which was celebrating its 100th anniversary. Unfortunately disaster struck a few months later and I lost almost all of the pictures I took.

BUT! . . . . I did manage to save a small handful, and this is one of my favorites!

Huntington Library Lincoln Exhibit

Lincoln Bicentennial Exhibit

Incase you've never been to the Huntington Library and Botanical Gardens before, here's a great opportunity to visit for the first time.

Now through April 27th they'll be showing this collection of Lincoln memorabilia in honor of the bicentennial. I'll probably head over there mid-April, and will definitely snap some pics of the grounds since I haven't been there in quite a while!

LA Times Road Trips

108 Road Trips from Los Angeles

I thought this was a great feature online in the LA Times today, particularly given that our Golden State's current picture ain't so "golden," or "rosy" or any other soothing color right now.

They've put together info on great road trips and have included the mileage and cost of gas from downtown LA.

Where's Jonathan Swift when you need him?

I've been waiting for a good comedic slamming of Miss 14-Baby Bellflower for a few days now, and finally I've found one! I'm sure there will be many more to come, but this is a nice start.

SHUT THAT VAGINA DOWN

SoCal Hitch

Bravo to the gentleman in this picture for adding some creative flair to an out-of-date past time. And while I do think that the average Southern California driver would gladly take a chance on a hitchhiker over sitting in freeway traffic, sadly most of the carpool lanes that I frequent are just as stagnant as the other gridlocked lanes.

I love the smell of bonfire in the evening

While those who live in colder climates enjoy the smell of burning leaves in the fall and wood burning in their fireplaces in the winter, those of us on the coasts revel in the smell and glow of the beach bonfire.

Tonight was one of those evenings when every fire pit at Dockweiler was occupied, offering a swath of beach-bound lanterns glowing against the sunset as you approached from either direction. (Alas, I did not bring my camera with me this evening, so all I can offer is a sunset picture I took there last week.)

Apparently, Los Angeles county only has one remaining beach where they still allow fire pits. And luckily it happens to be the one where I live.

Bowing out of the "Great Shake Out"

I am not one to be cynical or insensitive about natural disasters, by any means. However, I arrived at my office on the UCLA campus this morning and opened my email to find an announcement from a campus administrator titled "Drop, Cover, and Hold on!". As it turns out, tomorrow morning (Thursday, November 13) at 10am, we will be participating in the "Great Southern California Shakeout" with "millions of people throughout southern california." Yep, that's right folks, it's an earthquake drill. No doubt inspired by the 5-point something shaker we had earlier this summer.

Now, I believe in emergency-preparedness. I believe in practicing emergency scenarios, particularly in schools and major public buildings and venues that house children and large numbers of people at any given time. And I believe in taking steps to make sure that those who have never experienced an earthquake before know what to expect and feel prepared.

But, I also have a request--I sincerely ask that those of us who were born and raised on the jittery, tremor-prone streets of Southern California (and all of California for that matter) be excused from these drills once we reach the age of 18 and have thoroughly mastered the whole "drop, cover, and hold on" scenario in both simulated and live events.

I have spent more time crouching on low-grade carpet under desks and tables in the public schools of California than I, or my knees, care to remember. I crouched under our big circular craft tables at St. Stevens Preschool. I ducked under our single and double desks every year (multiple times) in kindergarten through 6th grade at Highlands Elementary. I huddled under desks in 7th and 8th grade hoping that my big, hair-sprayed bangs didn't get caught on a chair leg or something along with all of the other girls at Arroyo Seco Junior High. And I explored the underside of those desks in every gym, bungalow, science lab and lecture hall every year at Saugus High School as well. (And then I went to college in Northern California where they hadn't even finished rebuilding freeways from the last major earthquake 6 years prior.) I have experienced many an earthquake, including the Northridge '94, after which my high school was converted into a Red Cross shelter for a week and my weekend jaunts to the Northridge mall were seriously curbed. Trust me, I get it.

I have dropped and covered my little Californian heart out. And now I would like to report to the office with my birth certificate, my K-12 diplomas and my CA driver's license and ask to be excused from this class.

By all means, lets get the infinite number of adults living here who hail from birthplaces outside of our golden, fault-lined borders to practice diving for cover along with all the little kiddies. I'll even offer encouraging words and constructive criticism on their speed, form, and desk grip. But as far as this California kid is concerned, I'd rather take my driver's test again than continue to shove my increasingly large ass under one more pint-sized desk.

Bring on the shake, rattle and roll, California. This gal's ready to rock.

No on Prop 8 Letter to UM Friends

Emailed Wednesday, November 5th, 2008

Dear U of M Friends-

At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm not a fan of mass emailing and I'm embarrassed to be sending an email to such a large group of people, some of whom I haven't seen or spoken with in quite a while. However, at this point I'm willing to risk my good standing with some to address the gravity of this issue. So please forgive me and know that I would not do this if I didn't really think it was important. Yesterday in California, Proposition 8 passed. And while similar measures passed in other states, the terrifying significance of California's bellwether vote has honestly rocked me to the core. On the same day that we elected our first African-American president, we stripped an entire demographic of its civil rights. This wasn't just a measure to ban gay marriage. Same-sex marriage was already legal and recognized here. Yesterday our state took away rights that had ALREADY been won.

A number of my friends here have expressed varying sentiments to help them deal with the bittersweet nature of Obama's win and Prop 8's passing, such as "We can't win them all" or "win some, lose some." While I too have been so moved by last night's presidential election that I can barely believe it's real, I am also dumbfounded by the irony of these two simultaneous events and the inaccuracy of the above sentiments. This wasn't about "winning" anything. Last night, basic human rights were literally taken away, and done so in the grossest, most unconstitutional fashion imaginable.

As most of you know, I am not a religious person, I am not a traditional person, and I am likely not what you would call a "politically correct" person. In fact, I spend most of my time trying to convince people NOT to get married. However, this proposition is not about marriage, it's not about family, and it's not about being politically correct. It's about civil rights, human rights. And I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to sit there and celebrate an Obama win last night in the face of having one of my basic rights taken away from me. My heart breaks at the very thought of experiencing that kind of personal conflict.

The No on Prop 8 campaign (http://www.noonprop8.com/) and the Human Rights Campaign ( http://www.hrc.org//) struggled to raise the money they needed to fight this outrageous measure in part because so many of us who would have normally donated to this cause, were busy donating whatever we could give to the Obama campaign, and understandably so. Now they need support and money to fight this proposition's passing after the fact, before California's example sets the bar for the rest of the country. Donating even just $5, or passing this on to others you know, really will make a huge difference. And I know that many of you already have.

Again, I'm uncomfortable forwarding this kind of request, but it's just too important not to. Thanks so much for reading this and for your consideration.

I hope all of you are well and still celebrating!

Walks at Dockweiler

For the past few days, I have been driving myself and my two dogs to the beach around 4pm and walking them down the strand at Dockweiler as the sun goes down. My husband and I had already been regularly taking the dogs to the beach for a walk on Saturday mornings but I decided that, as long as I was still unemployed and therefore uncommitted at 4pm during the winter months when the sun sets at 5, that I should enjoy that freedom as much as possible.

This evening was my 3rd evening down there and the pleasure of it set in a bit more than usual, I think. It was just a few degrees colder tonight to the point where it kept all but those of us with dogs and/or a love of being alone outdoors away at work or at home. What struck me tonight was the fact that even still, regardless of how bloated and overpopulated this city has become, that I can drive myself 3 miles to the beach, walk across Vista del Mar and down to the sand, stare out at the Pacific Ocean as the sun goes down on a clear, cool evening and do so almost entirely alone. To be able to stand in the sand on the California coastline and stare in any direction only to find sand, the sun setting, the cliffs of PV to the south and the coast of Malibu to the north, and hear and see nothing else but the sound of the water and the occasional car is amazing to me.

I find this noteworthy because for the past 5 months I have, more or less, been completely and totally depressed. A native Southern Californian and an otherwise permanent and loyal resident of the state, I spent the last 3 years in Ann Arbor, Michigan for grad school, and just moved back to Los Angeles this past May. And while the last 2 of those 3 winters in "A2" certainly took their toll, the quality of life that I experienced during my first time living there was tremendous. Suddenly I was riding my bike, running, or taking a free bus to school; I was walking my dogs "through the woods on a snowy evening;" I was leaving the house during "rush hour" to go to the store because it was actually okay to do so; I was living in a home with spare bedrooms and unlimited storage space that I did not rent, but owned. While the draw of family, friends, my husband's new business, and all of my favorite things like unlimited sun, fresh seafood and access to the beach made a move back to my homeland more than appealing, once here, I was overwhelmed by the absurdity of what the average person endures simply to live here and wondered what in the world ever made me come back.

But tonight was one of those nights where the answer to that question was very clear. I distinctly remember thinking numerous times while living in Ann Arbor that one of the more unfortunate aspects of the city, and of the state for that matter, was it's enduring flatness. Not a hill or mountain dotted the landscape and as a result there was almost no good place to go watch the sunset, a regular past time for some one who lives on the Pacific coast. And tonight all I could do was stand there, staring at the blue edge of the water line and the orange glow of the last bit of sun as it went down, and listen to the complete absence of any noise other than the ocean and the intermittent plane taking off in a city of 10 million people, and be so grateful for it.