Am I Missing Something?

I don’t know about you other Vals, but it was super creepy driving home last night. Unlike the night before, there was hardly anyone on the roads for my commute home, and by the time I got off at Burbank to head home, the smoke in the air was so thick, it was like a scene from a post-apocalyptic war movie. The sun, hanging low in the sky, was an unhappy shade of reddish-pink. When I got out of my car, ash was flying everywhere like snow and the smell was chokingly acrid.

Okay, here’s my thing. And forgive me if you’re sick of hearing about this issue in the media, but it is a question on my mind that keeps nagging me. We, as Southern Californians, and particularly San Fernando Valley peeps, anticipate the Santa Ana Winds and their ensuing fires every year, along with the accompanying floods that later result from the rains tearing a destructive path through the burned out brush plains. With this particular fire, as with others in the past, our firefighters and emergency workers have it down to a system. Evacuees have a place to go, evacuated neighborhoods are cordoned off and you must provide ID to re-enter them, presumably to prevent any looting or vandalism, and to protect the safety of the citizens. At press time, over 16,000 acres have burned, but only one house and five structures have actually burnt down, no lives have been lost, and the fire is 35% contained. When the floods happen later this year or the beginning of next year when we get our first major storms, people will have sandbagged known problem areas, evacuees will again have a pre-ordained place in which to gather to wait out the disaster. Here’s my thing: We don’t get a three-day warning when a fire is started – we just have to put the usual response into play of what we know is coming. Okay. They get hurricanes down south all the time, right? They usually have a warning ahead of time that they’re coming, right? Like at least three days or so? They knew they were going to get an especially colossally damaging hurricane in the near future, right? So what the eff happened there? Why was it still such a huge, unprepared for disaster? Of course I realize fires and hurricanes are completely different in their scope of damage and that this is a different ecosystem we are talking about. But you can’t help but note the similarities. Or at least I can’t. And this bothers me. It bothers me a lot.

Hello, Gorgeous!

I have to give a big huge shout-out to the fabulous, beautiful, chic, just-arrived-in-time-for-fall, my lovely goddaughter, Juliette. Behold, and gasp in awe:

Isn’t she gorgeous? Doesn’t she have magnificent bone structure? Isn’t she positively fraught with benevolence? The little towel/hoodie thingy was a gift from her Auntie Valley Girl.

Her expression seems to be saying, “Don’t you wish YOUR self-tanner made you this beautiful color?” or “Is that a boobie I see against the far wall over there? Is it? Dang, isn’t it time for my mid-morning snack yet? Don’t you know it takes nourishment to look this good?” or maybe “Bitch, get me OUT of this dumb frock and into a Galliano, dammit!”

In this photo, we see that she popped out of the womb a true patriot just like her mother, and is pledging allegiance to the flag. I know it’s the wrong hand, but cut her a slackburger with cheese bitches, she’s a newborn! This probably means she will be left-handed, and thus, a gifted genius like myself. And modest, too. Like mysel... never mind.

Welcome to the world, you precious little bundle. I can’t wait to meet you in November when I visit!

Love,
Auntie

The Hills Are Alive... With the Flames of Fall

I knew it when I woke up yesterday morning. I smelled it. The Santa Anas are here already. The hot air, the whiplash winds, that smell of fall and leaves, only without the cold. The combination means murder to people with allergies, or who live in brushy areas. I knew it was only a matter of time before shit would be on fire, and sure enough, by yesterday midday, the reports were coming in – 118 was closed, Moorpark was on fire, Chatsworth was on fire. Crap. My drive home is screwed. It took me an hour and a half to get from Santa Monica to Encino. From the cliffs of Mulholland overlooking the valley, it was a pretty horrifying sight. Thank God I had sushi with Mom to look forward to, or I probably would have done a nosedive into Depressedville, Population 1. We walked to Enshino (you know by now it is my fave) and had a rockin’ good meal, then stopped on the way home to stare in horror at the fires from the Louise overpass. They seem so much scarier at night when you can actually see the flames. They seem so much closer. When I arrived home, it felt like my house was 100 degrees. The dogs were anxious, pacing around. They can smell it and they don’t like it. I kept my calm demeanor so they wouldn’t feel scared. But leaving them today to go to work was hard. Their doggie-senses are telling them something is wrong and that it ain't that far away.

I hope these fires are out soon and this is the extent of our disaster for the year. The country has suffered so much already, and to be honest, I feel sort of numb from all the gut-wrenching trauma of watching the hurricanes happen. I want to feel for my peeps in the valley, but I feel like I have nothing left right now. Isn’t that terrible? It almost seems like it's not even happening. My thoughts and prayers are with you evacuees. I know this must be a heinously difficult time. Hang in there, folks.

I wish they could use some of my excess water retention from last night’s insane sodium intake to put out the fires.

The Scarlet Tea Room

Have you ever actually done a tea? I never had either, until yesterday for Beth’s bridal shower. I have to admit, I had many preconceived notions. Bridal and baby showers are generally NOT my idea of a rockin’ good time. And the idea of doing a tea always conjured up images of stuffy, highfalutin’ people in uncomfortable, straight-backed chairs, sipping from dainty little china cups and nibbling from itty-bitty little tea biscuits or whatever those people eat, and talking about how Muffy and Bitsy will be attending Westpoint and how Thurston and Annabelle-Suzette will be summering in Nantucket, all whilst wishing you were either A) In a dingy bar by the beach somewhere with your new best friend Bubba, downing shots with beer chasers; or B) Dead. But the angelic and beautiful women who were throwing this shower right off the bat got up and announced first and foremost that there would be no goofy bridal shower games here today. I stood up and applauded. Probably a little too enthusiastically. I think I also high-fived my mom. And decided I could endure doing a stuffy “tea”.

But this was nothing of the sort. Yes, there are straight-backed chairs, but they are quite comfy. Yes, the surroundings are uber-over-the-top girly frou-frou, complete with the chandelier overhead that makes you feel underdressed even if you are wearing your best Donna-Karan-you-got-on-sale-at-Ross. But there is this very personable and sweet woman there, walking around offering you a choice of different teas, iced or hot. They all sounded fantastic, but I decided on the green tea infused with fruit, and was happy I did. They start you with a course of just-freshly-picked strawberry sorbet that is really yummy, and served in a cute, teensy little bowl with a cute, teensy little spoon. Yes, you could eat 16 times the amount they give you, but there are many courses to come, so you can live with just the little bit.

Next, they bring out a giant, 4-tiered platter with fresh scones, and every type of cute little sandwich you can think of – salmon and dill, mozzarella and tomato, red pepper and prosciutto, etc. There are probably ten different kinds. The scones are served with fresh preserves and fresh whipping cream. I’m not even normally a big scones fan, but this was my favorite part. Then comes the first of TWO dessert courses. Yeah, hearing this news was when I really started to dig this place. They bring a platter full of adorable little desserts, some chocolatey, some fruity, all different flavors, each decorated so cute that it is almost a shame to eat them, ALMOST. They refresh your tea constantly and then….just when you think they couldn’t possibly understand chicks any better, they whip out the CHOCOLATE COURSE. No, I ain’t kidding. I thought stuff like this only existed in my wildest, wettest dreams. Each of us was served with a bowl made entirely of chocolate. Did you allow that to sink in just now? A freakin’ bowl made entirely of chocolate. It is filled with some kind of strawberries, creamy, liquer-type goodness that you can either eat first, or just start eating the bowl and leaving the strawberry goodness on it as you eat said bowl. I swear the memory of it now is making me a little…. frisky.

And the thing I noticed about doing tea, socially speaking, is that it does induce a sort of contemplative, easygoing, sharing environment where you can just be yourself. You have nowhere to go mingle since you’re fixed at a table, nothing to do but drink tea and nibble things, and so conversation becomes relaxed and a bit uninhibited, even without the presence of alcohol. I felt like the women at my table had become old childhood chums by the time the event was over.

I officially LOVE doing tea now. What’s not to love?

The Scarlet Tea Room
18 W Green Street
Pasadena, CA 91105
(626) 577-0051

Reunited And It Feels So Good

I'm posting this photo just because it kills me.



You've probably already seen this on the news, but in case you haven't, these are a husband and wife who had to leave their dogs behind during the hurricane because the husband has a liver problem, and had to be flown out for special care. Their dogs weren't allowed to come along and these poor people were forced to leave them behind. I couldn't imagine the agony of having to do something like that. I'm so thrilled there was a happy ending here when animal rescue workers reinuted them with their precious family members. Much love for animal rescuers!!!

Willow Spa

I have to give a shout out about this beautiful, serene place. Terrie and I had an appointment for their 2-for-1 Japanese Enzyme Bath with half-hour Thai massage. Neither of us really knew what to expect, but we were very pleasantly surprised. The place itself is beautiful, calming, soothing, zen-like. A cute little converted beach bungalow. You wish you could live there, it’s so peaceful. Everyone speaks in hushed tones and everyone is nice. It’s quite an escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

After changing into the “loungewear” the adorable Hugo provides you with, he gives you a little shot of this enzyme drink, then leads you to the bath area. The bath is a deep heating treatment that was originally developed in Japan for the athletes in the Olympics. It is a dry bath that consists of a combination of finely cut Juniper shavings, rice bran, and fruit and vegetable enzymes. Its purifying properties can assist the body up to five times its natural ability in detoxifying. And we all need to detox, right? Shoot, I know I do. You lie in this stuff and it ferments and heats up naturally. It has the consistency of potting soil, though not the smell, thankfully. It smells herby and woodsy. You are completely covered in it and it feels like being in the womb since every part of you (except your head) is covered and warm and soft. You lie there completely still for 20 minutes and sweat, but the adorable Hugo comes to you like an angel every 5 minutes or so to wipe down your face with a lavender-scented washcloth and give you a cup of water through a straw. I have to say here that I normally am not the type to tolerate a sauna or steam room since I just get too overheated and claustrophobic. It doesn’t feel good to me. But this was easy to tolerate and was actually very meditative and quite nice.

After rinsing off and donning the loungewear, Hugo led us to a separate room to lie on a mat with an eye mask on and earphones playing soft, Japanese type music in your ears. Then he starts the Thai massage. Now, being a massage therapist myself, I’m ashamed to admit I have never had Thai massage, but am a total believer now. He used his body weight to apply pressure to certain muscle groups in the thighs, while placing your legs in specific poses that offered a great stretch. Along with this comes an outrageous foot massage. I asked Terrie if it would be inappropriate for me to ask Hugo for his hand in marriage. But she reminded me that I am, of course, partnered with a perfectly good man. But can’t I have two? I asked. No, she replied. Well, a girl can dream.

We sat out in the garden sipping green tea afterward and reading smut mags. Like I said, you wish you lived there and don’t really want to leave. But we eventually did, with soft, smooth, glowing skin and a relaxed and serene disposition for the rest of the day. I highly recommend this place. It’s a little zen vacation, conveniently close in Santa Monica.

Willow Spa
3127 Santa Monica Blvd.
Santa Monica, CA 90404
Phone: (310) 453-9004
www.willowspa.com

It's All Going To Be Okay

Sometimes it’s just too much. You try and shield yourself as much as possible from reliving the catastrophe over and over in the media, but still you are drawn to it. I remember when 9/11 happened and we were told not to come into work. We sat glued to the TV screen, horrified by what was happening to our people, in our own country. At some point, I had to leave the house and just take the dogs for a walk. I was dazed. I felt like I had been amidst the wreckage myself. I walked up and down the streets, sobbing uncontrollably, not caring who was around that might see me. No one was around. It was like a ghost town. I realized everyone else was inside, glued to their TV sets, watching the planes crash into the buildings countless times.

Compassion is what makes us human and alive. We connect with the pain of our fellow human beings at times with such acuity that it feels like our own pain. First and foremost, we have to do what we can to help. While hearing about the violence, looting, rapes, and general chaos that has descended on the survivors of the disaster, I am particularly distraught over the plight of the animals that have been left behind, who likely have no one coming to rescue them, who don’t understand what is happening and therefore suffer all the more. We will be donating to both the Red Cross, and to the Louisiana Humane Society. You can access donation centers for both charities, and other legitimate charity organizations that you have a particular passion for, by going to the following website: http://www.networkforgood.org/ --- This website is also particularly helpful since you can donate to the Red Cross even if the Red Cross website is overloaded. Many donations are pouring in, but this tragedy is going to take years and much funding to recover from, so donating any way you can is best.

The next step is to do what you can to ease your pain. For me, that was having a good cry, hugging my dogs and taking them for a walk, writing a few weepy pages in my journal, then drinking a couple glasses of red wine while watching Honolulu Transvestite Hookers on HBO. Your thing may be something else. In fact, I’m guessing it probably will be. Try to limit your exposure to the media. If that means switching to specials on she-males, then why not? We know what the facts are in this tragedy, right? Do what you can to take yourself out of it all for a bit so you are able to go to bed and start fresh in the morning.

Yes, this is our Tsunami. But somehow, it’s all going to be okay. We'll get through it.

All the riches, Baby

I am posting this photo for two reasons:

1) Hi, Jen and I look hawt. My mom just sent me this photo that was taken at my bro and Amy’s wedding. Amazing how nice we clean up, eh?

2) We didn’t look quite this hot last night when Jen took me out for sushi at my new fave place Enshino, but you still get the idea. Heh. Yeah. I’ll let you live that little fantasy for now. We macked on the best sushi known to woman and had an awesome time. This is how much she rules: She gave me a thong with a Liger on it. [For those of you who haven’t seen Napoleon Dynamite yet, hello? Get on the stick! A Liger is bred for its skills in magic. Gosh!] Sitting next to a redheaded hottie, eating delicious sushi, with a Liger thong at my disposal. I mean, does it get any better? If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na na na na na naaaaa!

Hurricanes and Beer

Bunnie and I had decided we needed a day at the beach before summer is over. I haven’t taken a vacation in awhile and don’t plan on one anytime soon, and just need a little getaway, know what I mean? A little fun in the sun, a little quality time at the dive bar by the pier, a little nappage in the sand, a little swimming in the surf. What’s not to love, right? After fighting crazy stupid traffic to get down there (Laurel Canyon was closed down – I am so sure!) we cruised in my car with the top down to the gigantic parkinglotasaurus by the pier and headed straight for Big Dean’s, where they serve Big Gulp-size draft beers. After quaffing two each (yes, I did say “quaff”, that's what you do with beer, duh) we schlepped our stuff across the sand to our spot. It was a perfect day. We had our tunes, our portable champagnes in a cooler, good snacks. We went swimming and the water wasn’t even that gross for a change. Just an all-around wonderful day to live in Southern California. I had invited Jodi to join us a couple of days ago, but hadn’t heard from her. “I wonder what she’s doing right now?” I thought, as I lazily munched another grape and rolled over to have a snooze.

Turns out Jodi was living one of the scariest times of her life. She had flown out to Memphis for a concert and then to New Orleans to spend one night, unaware that Katrina was headed there. She was one of the last planes to make it out of New Orleans before the hurricane hit. Everyone was being evacuated from the city and scampering to try to leave town, but freeways were at a stand-still and were getting closed off completely and airlines were canceling all their flights. She was lucky to get on a flight at all. Businesses and stores were shutting down and boarding up their windows hoping to avoid as much loss as possible, but the hurricane is going to actually touch down in New Orleans today. And this is the big one they've all anticipated like the SF earthquake of '89. If Jodi didn't get out yesterday, there was a good chance she would be stranded there for at least 3 or 4 days. They are expecting the entire city to be flooded in feet of water and the power to be out for days and it will probably take at least three or four months to restore everything. So many people are preparing for the worst and believe there is a good chance they will die.

When I saw Jodi and gave her a hug after hearing the news, she got tears in her eyes talking about how the people she saw and talked to there could end up dead.

And here we were, on the beach, the luckiest people in the world having a great time. Kinda makes me feel fortunate? Yes. Kinda makes me feel like a total jerkface for complaining about anything, ever? Absolutely. I lost a toenail surfing. I have a giant zit on my chin. My shower faucet doesn't work right. Wah, wah, wah! My God, I hear myself sometimes and want to kick myself. Life is so good here. I pray for our friends in those areas affected by Katrina and hope their tragedy and loss is not too great, and they are given strength to pick up the pieces and carry on. Your west coast friends, though spoiled rotten and easy to forget how good we have it, are thinking about you with love and concern.

El Pollo Grosso

Is it just me, or does that greasy, smarmy guy in the El Pollo Loco commercials make anybody else want to throw up? And as if it isn’t it bad enough that I have to be exposed to his smarmy ass during my limited TV viewing, now I have to hear his slippery voice and that dumb cheesy jingle in their radio ads as well? Listen up El Pollo Grosso Marketing People: This is a terrible campaign and doesn’t make anyone even slightly interested in your marginal at best flame-grilled chicken and tortillas. Word to your muthah. I'm out.

Who Would Jesus Bomb?

Now don’t get your panties in a twist, this is not going to turn into a political blog. And I am definitely NOT a bumper sticker kind of person. In fact, I have never in my life had a bumper sticker on my car, though I do enjoy looking at those on other people’s cars. But on the way home last night, I saw what has to be the most brilliant bumper stick ever invented and I immediately ordered five today.

WHO WOULD JESUS BOMB?

Exactly. Enough said. Isn’t it time for change yet?

http://www.stickergiant.com/Merchant2/merchant.mvc?Screen=PROD&Product_Code=b5642

Birthday Diva Continued

So Saturday night was the big Girls Night Out shindig and it was way more fun than humans should be allowed to have. I swear, in all my life, I have never felt like such a star. I have said it before and I will say it again: I have the most awesome girlfriends in the entire world. And the great thing is, they were all saying that to me about each other as well! So you know it's true! I made a pitcher of margaritas at the casa and made some of the girls pose with me on my bitchin’ new bike (who is still awaiting a name, people).


Shannon made cupcakes and you know what that means – mouthfuls of unbelievable bliss with every bite. Yes, as I said that night, I should be a Cupcake Designer, but obviously all the credit goes to Shannon for her superb baking skills and generosity with said baking skills in bringing to life the Cupcakes Of My Dreams: Fluffy yellow cake, filled with caramel crème, topped with milk chocolate frosting. I mean!! Honestly, for the love of Betty Crocker, does it get any better than that? An eery silence fell over the crowd as everyone’s eyes rolled in back of their heads with the sheer ecstasy of consuming these cupcakes. You think I’m exaggerating, but if you were there, you know EXACTLY what I’m talkin’ about. As per the advice given me that night, I did have one for breakfast the next day, by the way. Heh. Yeah, it’s good to be the Birthday Girl.

Shortly thereafter, we went all up in da’ club, Coda. Okay, I really have to give such a plug to this place. It’s true, it’s a little hidden, but we were greeted by such a nice staff who had reserved a special VIP section right off the dance floor for us. It was like a big huge private booth with tables and curtains and everything. And I’m not even P. Diddy, shoooooo! Our server Erica took really good care of us, and we started gettin’ down. The DJ was kind enough to take my requests (Beyonce and Nine Inch Nails, thank you) and gave a very nice little shout-out for my birthday. That was so sweet! As promised, I did do my stripper hair flip. Probably a few too many times.
But to sum it up, I had such an incredible time. I was never without a sippie in my hand, or without a smiling, happy face saying or doing something to make me laugh. By the end of the evening, driving home with Jimmy and Amy, my voice completely gone from all the laughing, all I could say over and over again in my hoarse, scratchy, margarita-induced mushiness was “Damn, I have the greatest girlfriends in the world.”
To Bunnie (and her bud Erin), Catherine, Miata, Keisha, Shannon, Jodi, Amy, Brenda, Rhonda (and her bud Angela), Patty, Deb From Next Door – YOU ARE MY GIRLS AND I LOVE YOU!!! And my girls that had to miss it due to other obligations, you were missed and I LOVE YOU GUYS TOO. Mwah! XOXOXO!

Coda
5248 Van Nuys Blvd. (just north of Magnolia)
Sherman Oaks, CA 91401
(818) 783-7518

Cutest, Pinkest, Girliest Bike EVAR

Imagine my surprise and my delight waking up to this adorable, sensational, pinkalicious piece of machinery Saturday morning:



Of course, the photos don’t do it justice. It is such a sweet shade of pink, with cute Hawaiian type flowers all over it. And you can’t tell by the photo, but even the tire treads are covered with flowers. The back story on it is that a few months ago, Derek’s sister received the exact same bike for her birthday. I was SUPER jealous. It is just so choice, and I wished I had one just like it. Little did I know, Homeboy was taking notes. Do I have an awesome man or what? He totally surprised me! I have wanted a cruiser for a long time, and now I have the cutest one ever made, and when me and his sis go riding around, we will be the envy of chicks everywhere. Thank you, Baby! You rule!

Girlies, help me come up with a name for the bike. Please post comments and give me ideas. She needs a name worthy of her supreme beauty!

Birthday Diva at the Beaurivage

So my birthday hasn’t even happened yet, and already it’s been just about the best EVAR. On Friday, Derek took me to Beaurivage in Malibu (you have to say Beaurivage through clenched teeth, ala Mr. Howell from Gilligan’s Island – yes, it IS that high falutin’).

This place is so pretty – just like a villa on the coast of Italy. The service is wonderful, but the food is really special. We had the baked brie appetizer with peach chutney, and I ordered the linguini with lobster and drank champagne. Can you say diva? Can you say fancy schmancy? Derek had the orange roughy. As a bonus, because we had to wait awhile for our food due to a large wedding party diverting our server’s attention away from my birthday fabulousness, he gave us a crème brulee on the house, and hello, it was brought to the table ON FIRE. Very high drama! But delicious!

On the way out, we had to view the musical act that had been playing in the bar area throughout our dinner. I can’t quite explain what was going on there. Picture the Duff Sisters, only, like, Italian, with matching shiny dresses, one pink and one blue, playing live Persian top-40 music and singing. It wasn’t good. But it was strangely enticing, strangely exotic. We couldn’t quite pinpoint what language they were singing in, but it didn’t matter. I found it difficult to look away and drag myself out the door. But I did nonetheless.

Needless to say, it was a wonderful time and we went home stuffed and feeling quite luxurious. For your next romantic fete, I highly recommend a visit.

Beaurivage Restaurant
26025 Pacific Coast Hwy
Malibu, CA
(310) 456-5733
www.beaurivagerestaurant.com

Deep Birthday Thoughts

So I have a birthday coming up on August 23, which has prompted the usual dumb birthday thoughts to rattle around my brain. The thoughts go something like this, usually in an echoey, dream-like sort of voice: “Damn, I’m old. I mean my ass is really getting up there. Dude! I’ve been around since before the internet! Since before CDs! Since before Brangelina! By this ripe old age, I always thought I would have done more, like won an Oscar for Best Screenplay, visited the Grand Canyon, learned how to yodel, and perhaps worked as a professional go-go dancer. Shit, I’m old. I may as well lie down on the couch and play with the remote. Forget about being hot. People my age are no longer hot.”

Then I had a revelation and I decided to incorporate this into my mental repertoire, and I hope you, Dear Reader, will do so as well along with me. Are you ready? It goes like this:

YOU ARE EXACTLY AS OLD AS YOU DECIDE YOU’RE GOING TO BE.

That’s it. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? What you decide goes both ways, good or bad, and goes for both genders. But I’m thinking of women in particular here since women have a good deal more aesthetic, pursuit-of-youth pressures that society dumps on them. But it really doesn’t matter. You can decide to play into it or not.

And I have this on good authority too, see. Let me introduce you to Derek’s 100-year-old Grammy. Yes, she is 100. When you think of someone who is 100, you think nursing home, IV-drip and 100 types of meds with every (liquid) meal, right? Think again. Picture spunky, sassy, rarely not smiling or laughing, rarely not saying something positive, frequently playing her beloved golf and taking no meds whatsoever (except for a necessary blood-thinner). Picture someone still so in love with life that she grips it by the short-and-curlies every single day and is more energetic than a lot of 21-year-olds I have known. I want that to be me. And that will be me.

I also have to remind myself of the women in my age category who have accomplished so much – the hotties who are smart, talented, spiritual, and obviously loving every minute of their 30s. Let’s just run down the list: Gwen Stefani, Jennifer Aniston, Shirley Manson, Sophie Marceau, Pamela Anderson (yes, Pammy – read her articles in Jane Magazine…. Girlfriend has something to say), Uma Thurman, Nicole Kidman, Halle Berry, Guinevere Turner, shoot, the list goes on and on. The point is, sexy and sexuality has no number and is not something to be shut off at a certain age. I believe this is important for myself and women everywhere to remember.

So I’m going to shake my ass at da’ club and be proud this birthday. I think I’m a scandalous babe, therefore I am. Woot!

Wake up!

Since I am a total makeup 'ho, I have to give a shout out about this. If you are a heterosexual male, you may want to just cruise right past this post since it will be so boring for you it will make your eyes bleed. Girlies, read on. This is for those mornings when your face just doesn't pop into shape for a couple hours, your undereye area is puffy, dark, and generally sad-looking. Here's what you do: Go to your local Rite Aid and get this concealer in a tube called Almay Wake Up! (and sing System of a Down along with me: Wake up! Grab a brush and put a little makeup! Hide the scars and fadeaway the shake-up! Why'd you leave the keys up on the table! etc.) Anyway, Wake Up! is concealer meant for under the eye area (note: a little goes a LONG way). Then schlep over to your local Benefit counter (usually found in Macy's or Bloomies, or order from sephora.com) and get you some of that Oooh La Lift (pink stuff in a tube also meant to brighten undereye area). Mix these two things together on the back of your hand and apply liberally to undereye area with your finger. Bam! You look 5 years younger. Doesn't cake up, doesn't get crusty, and you look well-rested, even if you were doing percodan jello shots with Courtney Love the night before. It's a miracle.

Casa De Carlos

So we got one of those coupon mailer thingies with local restaurants and junk in there, and lo and behold, there is a coupon for Casa de Carlos in Woodland Hills. My parents used to take me and my brother there when we were little and we thought it was the absolute bomb since eating out was considered a special treat, so even if it was some dinky little local Mexican restaurant where they bring you chips and salsa as soon as you sit down, just for showing up, it just flat-out ruled. Well I hadn’t eaten there in years, so I wasn’t really sure if it was still good, or even good at all since a kid palate memory is hardly reliable. But there was the coupon, and I had a particular craving for beef, which I NEVER eat, but have been having some female issues and needed some iron, dammit.

So we show up to the place, and honestly, the décor is just as Mexi-cheesy as I remember. I love that. The place has been there since 1961 and they may have redecorated since then, but I doubt it. As soon as we sat down, we were greeted with not only fresh chips and salsa, but a side of delicious bean dip as well! Warning: you will want to consume 3 baskets of chips with 3 bean dips before the meal because it is just so darn good, but TRY to control yourself for chrissakes even though they happily bring you more after each Homer Simpson eating donuts-like consumption. Oh but we didn’t really consume three baskets. Heh heh… nooooo no no, I’m just saying that as a warning, I swear. No, seriously, really. I swear. What?

Anyway, it took us forever to decide what to get, during which time I got myself the first of two margaritas (on the rocks, with salt, in case you’re wondering). Now, a margarita is always how I judge the quality of a Mexican place, and the marg here was especially good. Not watered down, decent tequila, nice flavor to it. Just all around well-played. But back to deciding. There is so much good stuff on the menu, it is really difficult to point and choose. But in the end, I decided on the carne asada plate and Derek got the chicken tostada.

So they bring out our food. Okay, folks? Remember the opening credits of the Flintstones? Where the little drive-thru waitress comes up to the car and tosses this huge rack of animal flesh onto the car and the car tips over? Well, this is what happened with my carne asada plate. The waiter sets it on the table and I swear there were audible gasps in the dining room amongst other diners and the table shifted slightly under the weight of this thing. It was a gigantic side of pounded, tasty beef. Even the waiter said “Man, that looks like half a cow!” My dirty look notwithstanding, he left us alone and I proceeded to try to tackle this thing, which was quite delicious, but between the tortillas, the rice and beans, the three er, I mean one basket of chips and dip, and the enchilada that came with it, I only managed a small portion of it and had to take the rest home, which was quite yummy the next day.

Casa De Carlos Restaurant
22901 Ventura Blvd. (west of Fallbrook)
Woodland Hills CA 91364
(818) 225-8182

Dr. Seuss -- up in flames

Do you have any kids books to donate? Do you know someone who does? Jen's kid's school had a devastating incident recently: the school's administrative building went up in flames and took the library and all the kids' books with it. Here is an article about it: http://lafd.blogspot.com/2005/07/fire-damages-woodland-hills-charter.html

If anyone has a lead on books for kids, these guys could sure use 'em. Please see their website for information about the school and how to donate books: http://www.chimeinstitute.org/CharterElementarySchool.html

Thanks, Vals. Have a great weekend!

Love,
Valley Girl

Japanese Garden

Have you ever wanted to visit Japan? Have you ever looked at some of those gorgeous Asian silkscreen thingies that have some awesome landscape with water and flowers and junk on there and think “Man, I want to jump into that place and hang out for awhile and just chill” --?? Do you? Well, now you can jump into that serene, otherwordly-looking place for the low, low price of $3 (much cheaper than a plane ticket), and experience cascading waterfalls, a lake with real live creatures floating on it, an explosion of botanicum, and learn the Japanese symbolism behind each water, plant, and bridge formation.

We took Derek’s parents and his Grammy here when they came to town to visit. This is a wonderful place to bring out-of-towners to show them that the valley is more than just the Porn Capital of the World. It’s also a lovely place to just sit and reflect and be thankful we have these little escapes available to us. Check out the authentic Japanese teahouse, and don’t forget the gift shop. I found a super cute little paper umbrella in there (like the kind that comes in frou-frou drinks, only much bigger) that now serves as a lampshade to cover up this ugly-ass lamp in my writing/massage room.

The Japanese Garden
6100 Woodley Ave.
Van Nuys, CA 91406
Tel 818 756 8166

Check out their site: http://www.lacity.org/san/japanesegarden/gardenindex.htm

Crystal's

I have to tell you guys about this awesome place that my awesome sis-in-law took me to last weekend. I feel like I'm about to share a delicious secret here, so listen up. It's called Crystal's. You'll be driving along this crappy-ass, industrial type street, when suddenly there appears this beautiful, ivy-covered little house-like building. Inside, it is crammed wall-to-wall with adorable, vintage type furniture, wrought iron decorations, really cool switchplates, drawer pulls, and other accents that make a place look beautiful and unique. You won't find any of this stuff at Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware. They also carry this line of candles that come in glass jars, and there must be a jillion different scents -- each one more delicious than the last one you sniffed. I bought Snickerdoodle, and when I burned it later, my whole house smelled like baking cookies. I also purchased a lovely planter for the cool African Mask plant my mom gave me. This thing is solid wrought iron, weighs a ton, and is absolutely beautiful. Guess what? It was only $30. If you're into shabby chic, you will love this place, but that certainly isn't the only crowd they cater to here. Check it out, and allow yourself a good two hours or so to peruse the goods. You'll want to kiss me later.

Crystal's -- 18217 Parthenia St, Northridge, CA 91325
Phone: (818) 701-0168