I love the Internets

Reason 17,568.

Look Familiar

For those who know me, you might be able to see me in action behind Ryan.

An L.A. Weekend

So, Friday night, after work, Carl and I are to have dinner with my mother, father, stepmother, sister, her new husband and her husband's Israeli father and stepmother. Ah, yeah. So, I pick up my mother, get to Choclat (formerly Moustache Cafe, but with, strangely, almost the exact same menu as before -- though, the inside has been gussied up) and head directly to the bar for fortifications. Jennifer (sis) and Joel (brother-in-law) arrive next (having traveled down from SF) and we hug and make awkward small talk.

Joel's parents arrive followed by Carl, who gulps from my wine glass, also needing fortification. He suggests he should have brought a xanax for us both to split. A good idea to remember for next time.

We move to sit and 3 table squashed together near the kitchen door. Taking a page out of my mom's playbook, I insist they move us over at least one table away from the swinging kitchen door. They accommodate and I request another fortification.

Dinner is fine, company is nice and we all go our separate merry ways, happy to have accomplished another gathering without all-out warfare.

Saturday morning, I drag myself up and out to visit my mom's mom, Nana Dorothy. She's in an assisted living house in Moorpark, about 40 miles north of my home. I stop and pick up a few cand bars and a bag of lifesavers -- as they're almost the only thing she lives for. I arrive and she tells me that she wants to die. Ok.

I don't blame her. She's in a lot of pain and doesn't have much to live for. I tell her that I hope she gets out of pain soon and finds peace. We talk for a few minutes, reminisce a tad and then I'm off to my Great Uncle Jack's birthday in Westlake, being held at some Italian restaurant hidden around a fake lake, next to a boat club and mall. I find the location, but not the restaurant, so I convince myself that I'm in the wrong location and drive around Westlake for 30 minutes til my sister finally calls me and gives me directions. I had called several people, but no one saw fit to answer their phones.

I arrive amid speeches and toasts and the such. I request fortification. And then the barber shop quartet singing begins. It's sweet, a nice throwback, and we all sing TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALLGAME (my Uncle Jack has had season tix to the Dodgers since they moved to LA). Oh, and some wellspoken yet seemingly pompous State Senator spoke and offer Uncle Jack a proclamation from the state. A very nice afternoon was had.

After the celebration, I came home and soundly napped. Next, it was off to a rooftop fundraiser in West Hollywood for a friend of a friend who's riding in the AIDS Ride. Steve and I chatted amiably with new-found 40-year old lesbian screenwriter and her friend, a nurse. And, then for entertainment, 6 traditional mexican dancers took the stage (or the roof, i guess) and danced a series of traditional mexican dances, culminating with the famous "hat dance."

It was fun and kitschy and little weird. Downtown glittered behind us and the Century City towers glittered behind the dancers.

From strangely formed families previously thought inconceivable to nanas with a deathwish to barber shop quartets and state proclamations to traditional mexican dancers at rooftop AIDS fundraiser parties, I gotta say: I love LA.

This afternoon, I'm off to the one year anniversary of Fuel. But first, I'm desperate for a constitional and a large coffee. I'm pooped.

Net Neutrality

Here's why you should care. Tell a friend. Hell, tell everyone.

Lemons

Demon lemons are nothing to sneeze at.

Happy 225th Birthday L.A.

Via Franklin Ave, City Nerd is putting together a list of 225 things to do to celebrate the birthday our our City of Angels! Unlike the fiasco of the Millenium party when the Hollywood sign was lit by the equivalent of a few flashlights, maybe they're on to something.

Oh, and I guess LAist is compiling a list too.

Five more things I would do:

1. Go to your neighborhood council meeting.
2. Visit your local library.
3. Go to a reading at Skylight Books or A Different Light Boookstore.
4. Hike Runyon Canyon.
5. Go to the West Hollywood or Long Beach Gay Pride parade.

Perhaps more to come...

What Would Jesus Do

This, and during Holy Week. Oh, the blasphemy. Sweet blasphemy.

Impeach Bush

Via atrios, it seem Neil Young has a new album and, well, he isn't pulling any punches.

One commenter reminds us:

One man, with a dream at leisure
Can go out to conquer a crown,
But three, with a new song's measure
Can crumble an Empire down.

From "Ode" by Arthur O'Shaunessy (d. 1889)

Cynthia McKinney vs. Tom Delay

Another excerpt fron the Rude one:

But you wanna know where the racism and sexism is here? It ain't with the Capitol cops (in this case), who are in a crappy position under the stress of terrorism neurosis that pervades everything. It's with the media, who act with deference towards a white male thrice-admonished alleged felon who has intimate connections with convicted felons and who feel free to attack the black woman who has yet to be charged with anything.

Oh, and that's not to mention that McKinney's a Democrat and DeLay's a Republican.

Read the whole thing.

Cheney's a lying sack of shit

Yeah, I said it. Well, actually, I repeated it. The Rude Pundit said it first. Well, if not first, at least before me. I suspect many people have said it many times, many places.

Anyway, the latest Libby/Cheney/Bush Leakapolooza seems to be missing something and I think the Rude Guy may be right.

See if you agree.

Reason 10,817 Why I love the Web

Cabspotting.

And, yeah, I like Gridskipper, so sue me. Also love Curbed L.A.

Baseball Can Be a Drag

Well, yeah, but it also can put a lot of drag queens out of business. Apparently, the new Washington Nationals are planning to build a new stadium over the footprint of some of the oldest gay bars in DC.

Can't they build it over the Capitol or The White House or are the Cess Pools too deep for cleaning?

Rats on a Plane

While this may be a horrific story -- I'm sure I would not have come close to maintaining this guy's composure, but rather would have screamed like a terrified catholic schoolgirl -- the comment about the cigarette-smoking rat in the restaurant takes the cake.

The Republicans

Or as some like to call them, the Repuglicans. Under their "leadership", this is where this country's headin'.

Good times (or is it End Times?).

On a sidenote, it's great to see Billmon posting regularly again. Hope he continues. He's sorely needed.

Delay

Victory can no longer be delayed. He's out of the race and America should do the Snoopy Dance.

Agonizing Back Pain

So, I threw out my back on Wednesday night. Went to a new chirpractor who took an xray first and, lo and behold, I have scoliosis. I should be 5 inches taller he told me (can he make me 5 years younger too?) and that much of any discomfort in my daily life can be attributed to this.

Fine, he adjusts me for my initial reason for coming (I'll go back to start the other stuff to make me taller and less bloated, I guess) and sent me on my way.

And I was better. Cut to a day and a half later -- today -- and I feel a little twingey, but still think I can pick up a small table at a friend's house (thanks Brian!). I did and immediately, I'm in agonizing pain. It's like somebody is punching me in my lower back and hip repeatedly (you know, just where the chiropractor adjusted me).

I finally make it home and Carl goes out for the requisite heating pad, muscle relaxant, muscle spray, anything...mostly probably to get away from my Baby Jane self.

And, so, I'm left in my sickbed, and the only thing the puppy wants to do is jump up and down on my in-agony body or lick me in the face...and there was no way for me to summon the strength to push him away. I love the puppy, but come on, already, catch a bird, play with the other dog, dig a plant. Finally, he just plops down at my feet, then my head, then my feet. Fine, just please God, no jumping on the the family jewels, legs, chest, face, anywhere and quit the licking. Thank you.

Now, I'm on wine and muscle relaxants and the puppy's asleep. So, I guess it didn't end as poorly as I might have feared. I'm off to watch the rest of Liza with a Z because I can't sit any longer (yes, I watch standing up like I'm at a cocktail party because sitting is too painful -- I found a relatively less painful way to sit at this computer, hence this missive).

Soon, another muscle relaxant and back to bed. In six months, I may be 5 inches taller.

Conservative Publishing

By way of the Washington Monthly, this may just be how conservatives come up with their compelling book concepts.