I Love Art

Gallery Row, Culver City

and

LACMA

and

Liz

and

cheap beer

and

amazing Californian weather

and

eye candy galore.

Pretty Portland

Portland may not be the number one spot for a vacation but it was the perfect place for a weekend getaway for four overworked, over-schooled young ladies. The scenic routes, the fresh air, the abundant bicycles, ahhhhh...

We frequented many a shops but my favorite was poking through the ones of the antique variety. My family doesn't really like old things so I hardly ever get to play with 1950's cameras or don 1930's hats in their presence. Luckily, my kindred spirit doth favor the aged goods so we made many a trips to antique shops.

Favorite spot: The infamous Powell's Books. Picture this:

A gigantic treasure trove filled with books of all ages, sizes and races. Some at discounted prices, some just off the presses, new, old, fancy, simple, I WAS IN HEAVEN!

aaaaahhh....

Portland: definitely good for one or two days. Any more and...you just may want to fall asleep in the grass with a book.

*the gorgeous snapshots are courtesy of the one and only Helen!

Dear Helen

Helen and I were meant to be friends. Everyone who knows the two of us knows and says so. From our outlandish laughs to our love of all things colorful, musical and quaint, our two quirky souls were meant to align.

She's also a passionate traveler, so it was inevitable that we would embark on a journey together.

Before we traveled, Helen did the MOST AMAZING thing. She itinerar-ized our entire trip and made us handy dandy schedules containing all the useful information that one might need while traveling. I still have that guide and friends are still calling me asking to borrow it to use as a model for when they're planning their trips.

Oh and what a journey we had! Read on for deets (and pretty pictures!)

Meant to Be

"Janice, I'm Annie and I'm here to take you to the airport."

I blearily peek out under fatigue soaked lashes and stare up to see this blurred figure of a girl sitting at the end of my bed, staring down at me. Beside her is a young chap, worriedly pacing my tiny bedroom. I have no idea who both these people are.

"That's my boyfriend, James." Annie gestures at the boy.

"James?" I grumble, "but isn't your boyfriend's name Jerry?"

"What? No!" Annie exclaims. She then pulls out her phone and whispers, "Helen, I think she's...drunk!"

Helen, over the phone, adamantly states, "What? Just get her out of there. We have a plane to catch!"

I suppose I should back up and explain what happened. Run through the events that occurred hours before this bizarre exchange took place.

I am, by no means, an easy person to travel with.

You remember those terrible times in Thailand...or how about my little mishap in France...

But this time, I should be punished for my actions. I should be hit. I should be knocked out.

Oh wait. I was.

Knocked out, that is.

On Thursday, May 21, the night before I had to board a plane at 7:40 in the morning to fly to Portland for a fun rendezvous weekend with the girlfriends, I accidently celebrated my last LCC cast party a little too hard. I ended up back at my apartment at 5 in the morning and listened to some ill-advice about taking a one hour nap. I never woke up.

Well, I eventually did, to Annie's poking and shaking.

Annie and I have never met. We were going on this trip together through our mutual friend Helen. Because Helen doesn't live around LA, Annie and I decided to carpool to the airport together. She and her boyfriend (tried to) pick me up around 6 that morning but because I was KO'd, they ran through flames and knocked down walls to get to my bedroom and tried to forcibly, in person, get me into their car.

I did eventually hop in to the car but only after two annoying times of, "wait, I think I forgot my contact lenses."

We ran into the airport but that morning, fate just did not want us to get on the plane. Through various technicalities, we ended up at our terminal four minutes late. But those four minutes were enough to cause us to miss our flight.

Saddened by her unfortunate luck to be stuck with me, Annie broke down in tears. I felt so bad. I started working to find a solution to our problem and was soon informed of two options. 1) We could buy tickets from another airline for about $500 for the both of us. 2) Be on standby for the next flight.

I calmly approached this poor girl that I had unsettled so seriously and explained to her our choices. I told her I was willing to front the tickets for the other airline. It is a lot of money but I felt so bad for my drunken behavior to cause us to miss the flight that I was willing to pay for both our tickets.

Annie (KINDLY) said that she was willing to be on standby for the next flight. She knew $500 was a lot of money as well and didn't want to see me have to pay for that.

So we had a couple of hours to kill, which we efficiently did, telling each other all about our lives.

To our good fortune, we clicked! She overlooked my faulty ways and the beginning of a beautiful friendship stemmed.

I truly believe everything happens for a reason and this story is proof. So I missed a couple hours of Portland. Big deal, getting to know Annie on a one-on-one basis was a lot more worth it.

DCA

I love random trips to Disneyland...

Especially when they're free! (thanks sis)

And with new friends!

DCA (Disney's California Adventure) is even cooler

Because it's more growned up (yea, you heard me. I said growned up.)

Which is more fitting for a bunch of early-twenties professionals, grad students, recent grads (oh yea, and me...)

Wish I could have gone to the real Disneyland as well but alas, work beckoned (read in Media Maid post.)

*Thanks for your photo contributions, Sharon and Wes!

Sin City!

It is the duty of every Californian who has turned twenty one years of age to take a pilgrimage to the city of sin-lights-that never sleeps-what happens here stays here-etc.

As of last week, I have yet to pay my homage to old age.  

Yes, I've been all around Europe and Asia, been to the Macau, the Vegas of the East, been to Queen, the hottest club in Paris, been to this, been to that, but I had not stepped foot into Nevada since turning the big 2-1. 

But that was as of last week.

As a bon voyage to my final spring break, HK Krew ventured forth to Vegas where bright lights awaited our arrival...

Located in the center of the strip, we were blessed with complimentary rooms (the only way you can drag me to Vegas) at the Planet Hollywood Hotel, fitting since the Planet Hollywood restaurants (do you remember them?) always gypped my family with their $20 burgers and spaghetti dinners. Thanks Will! Thank your uncle for us, please!

We spent our day at the shooting range poppin' some bullets into the ol' AK-47 and then some into my most dreaded enemy: an illustrated profile of a zombie.

Such a bad-ass, huh?  

I was actually very, very nervous as we got to the shooting range. When I had enthusiastically suggested the idea at the beginning of our trip, it had not dawn on me that we would actually be using guns, loathsome weapons that have killed many and injured many more.  The Gun Store turned out to be a very safe place and the man assured us that bigger guns were actually easier to use than small pistols. Here are our results.

Lol, when my friend Jenn (far right) asked for her target, she said, "Can I get Obama, please" and the man corrected her, "You mean Osama, right?" I surely hope she means the latter because that girl tore into her target like no other.

My friends (with the exception of Will and Jenn) aren't big gamblers so I wasn't as tempted to throw all my money away onto the green table as I normally would be if I were around other company--namely my family. Instead, we threw our money away at the arcades of Circus Circus. Jeff was adamant about winning a stuffed animal so he played all the games of our glory years. He played...

and played...
and FINALLY won a miniature cow at the chicken pounding booth!
...which he promptly gifted to me (most likely because I teased him so badly for not winning anything for the longest time). I named the cow Lucky because I like to name things. (see: Oliver MacArthur)

Eating was a pleasure (but also a pain)  because...look at the size of this thing! It's just asking for a heart attack.

Our dinner was comp'd (these things happen when you're VIP) but none of us truly enjoyed it to the fullest extent because we were all still full from lunch. Darn you, un-expandable stomach!

We also wanted to save room to consume other things. Namely, the giant yard long drinks that seems to be a must-tote around Vegas. 

A Vegas trip isn't complete without a night out at the clubs.  We were offered entrance to most of the hot spots around town; Prive, Tao, but we wanted to check out the newest, hence most elusive, XS.

For the longest time, things looked hopeless. The line at XS stretched farther than Margarita Mondays at Acupulco and my leopard-printed 4-inch pumps were killing me. But eventually, we got in because we're...well, girls and pretty attractive.  (And my friend finally got ahold of the promoter that unlocked the velvet ropes)

When we got in the club, the first thing I noticed was how not packed it was. I hate it when people throw that exclusivity thing around to build more hype. When you have the goods, share it! But that's how the game is played, I suppose.

The gals with Jeff, who bought my first drink of the night. Thanks friend!

Finally, the drive home. I would have to say, I actually enjoy our long drives to and from Vegas.  That's the time when we bond the most, share the most, laugh the most. I'll cherish these moments when I'm old and rich and don't drive anymore because I'll own a private jet. =)

Vegas trip was definitely a success! Except for one thing: why do guys always feel that the best pick-up line for me is, "What ethnicity are you?" or "Wow, you're really tall." Do you really think that demonstrating a confusion to my "exotic" looks or commenting on my towering state of presence is going to get you anywhere? Sometimes the best opening is just a simple, "Hello." *swoon.

*muchos gracias to Jenn and Jeff for letting me steal their pictures to tell parts of my story.

Oh my pretty little blog, how I've missed updating on you!

The economy's been kind of a bummer lately and I am trying hard not to indulge myself by going on trips and journeys.  That means no Vegas trips (unless all expense-paid), no NYC visits (on again, all expense-paid. Any takers?), no spontaneous jaunts to Mexico (I'm still waiting on that all expense-paid) for awhile.  

But I'll have plenty to keep me busy.  One of them is this new blog that I've started called "Media Maid."  You can visit it at www.mediamaid.blogspot.com.  I haven't gotten very far with it but hopefully, I'll be updating more regularly in the near future.  This new blog will probably chronicle me as I navigate my way through the media world, whether it's hanging out with Al Pacino (you know, Michael Corleone) for the afternoon or just flipping through the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly.  We'll see how this goes!

Once again, thanks for reading, readers. I've cherished every verbal and typed comments I've received about this blog but the more comments the better! It's always great to hear feedback because that's what helps me as a writer and blogger.

I suppose I shall leave you with a very beautiful picture reflecting on California's unusually sunny outlook to these otherwise gloomy economic times.

Photo taken by dear Clark.  Snazzy, wouldn't you say?