White Dogs Can't Jump

So my friend Angela has a dog, the dog's name is Humphrey. Humphrey is a girl. Cute dog, friendly dog, oh so friendly — almost too friendly dog sometimes — because when people come over Humphrey jumps on them all crazy, and Angela has to yell "No Humphrey no!" Actually I don't know if Angela has ever yelled exactly that — but something to that effect, I'd guess — because she didn't have to yell that when I walked through her door because Humphrey actually didn't jump on me (although Humphrey did do some impressive flying leaps in the backyard, like a graceful whizzing dog-gazelle).

Anyways. So the reason why Humphrey DIDN'T jump, is because Angela learned to spray her with a water bottle when she jumps on people. And Angela labeled the water bottle "WHITE DOGS CAN'T JUMP!" which of course is more of a command than a fact. It's more like, "No, white dog, you better not jump!" instead of stating that white dogs "can't jump," because Humphrey obviously is living proof that that's not true. When she was a puppy, and Angela tried to keep her in one room using one of those baby gates, Humphrey would fly clear over the baby gate! PUPPY POWER!!!!!!! I need to get Humphrey a cape.

But I recently learned that Humphrey the Maltese is ALREADY a super pupstar. Her owner, Angela Landis, booked her in Angela's film Boned, and then Angela set up this video of Humphrey getting interviewed! Doggy interviews woo! Woof!

My New Random Pink Lady Friend

I've been trying to look "nice" lately — not wearing stretchy pants to work every day, brushing my hair sometimes, remembering to clean the pink dots off my face from my overnight zit medication. So last week, I was coming back from lunch (after scoring a bunch of free perfume samples at Macy's), and a stout glowing Latina woman smiled at me and said, "You look nice!" And I lit up, ran over to her, put my hand on her shoulder and exclaimed, "Oh my god, thank you for saying that, I've really been trying, I appreciate that!" Then I told her how nice she looked too, she had beautiful two-tone magenta glasses, and a pink-ish jumpsuit with a darker pink shirt peeking out, and a very striking purpley mauve lipstick that was just perfectly lined...a sticky wet-looking matte, like a painting. I thought about asking to take her photo, but for as many times as I've done that in the past, I've gotten more hesitant in recent years. Maybe it's the Age Of The Internet, maybe I'm losing my edge. But of course I later regretted it, so I decided I would draw her. And while this of course is nothing what she looks like, I still have her image in my mind. Thank you random new Pink Lady friend.

Holy Rainbow, Batman!

I was driving in Burbank after a spat of rain, and I saw the most enormous rainbow, it was the most vivid I've ever seen — and it was close, too — seems like it was rooted just a block away. I said to myself, "Holy rainbow, Batman!" And I swear to God, I shit you not, I then realized the car in front of me had a small Batman sign on its back window. So I think this is a sign of some sort...I think this instance might be luckier than seeing a double rainbow. I think it means that I will soon become a superhero.

Poor Little Leaky Kid Mansion

 

I was trying to outfox the morning traffic by zig-zagging through side streets, and kind of like Snow White, I happened upon this little cottage. Or more like a dream clubhouse for kids...with a tarp over it. It's been raining Thundercats and dogs in Los Angeles, so I'm assuming they're covering the hole to keep the water out. You can afford a play mansion for the kids, but can't afford to fix a hole in the roof?! Get it together, rich people!

The Facebook "Like" Button, Part 2

So four years later — has it been FOUR YEARS since I posted on this blog thing?!?! Anyways, I'm happy to report that Facebook has since added a sad crying emoji (see previous post). This still seems a little cartoony to put for someone dying, but as long as you write a heartfelt comment along with it, I guess it could work? Maybe not best to "emoji recognize" such a serious post? Probably definitely don't if it's around Halloween, lest you post a crying Frankenstein.

The Facebook "Like" Button, Part 1

If someone posts that their gramma died, and they write how wonderful a person she was, and you "like" it — I hate that it seems like you're "liking" that their gramma just died, even though you're really "liking" the undertones of the post, which is that she was a really great person and your friend was happy to have her in her life, and hopefully she was ready to die and peaceful and all that. Facebook should add another button, or buttons, like a "THAT BLOWS I'M SORRY" button.

Urban Dunebuggy

VROOM VROOM!

New Approach to Back Hair Removal?

Click on the photo to learn more!

You Gotta Have Faith. Unless She's a Stripper Who's Sleeping With Your Husband.

I was waiting to cross Sunset Boulevard, on my way to the money order place, because I got my first parking ticket in LA ($68 for streetcleaning!!!) using someone else's car. Bark on my head! — as I used to say as a pre-teen, don't ask me why. I even painted a dog's head and mouth on the top of my bedroom's doorway so when you passed under it, it looked like a dog was actually barking on your head.

Anyways. So the light was red, and a matronly woman wearing 3D glasses and a backpack underneath her blue rain poncho was standing there, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. I pressed the walk button.



"I already pressed it!"
And I laughed and said, "I always press it more than once because it totally makes the light turn faster right?!"
"Right," she said and smiled.
"I have faith," I said.
"That's good," she said. "I don't."

I was mid-giving-her-sadface when my new back-pregnant friend smiled and said, "I got rid of her. Faith was a stripper who was sleeping with my husband."
"Oh!" I exclaimed and laughed.
"I got rid of Hope too!"

I started to ask about Charity, but Charity had obviously been spared — 3D-Poncho-Backpack Lady broke up the monotony of my day, making dropping $68 not totally suck frozen meatballs. "I'm glad I could make you smile," she said, and she headed to waste time on Sunset before picking up her daughter from school.

"OMG, DON'T JUMP!"

I believe I actually did yell that at the cat.

Would You Attack Me If I Was Wearing This Hoodie?

Introducing, the Anti-Hoodie. An attacker won't be able to tell your gender or race and will be totally scared away by the scary face with very sharp teeth. (Note: Eye holes not included. By BAPE.)

Sour-Liquid Tampon Drops

I posted this Instagram photo to my Facebook and wrote: "Are sour liquid drops really up there with tampons when it comes to bathroom vending necessities?" The first comment was from my sister's friend Brent who said: "Sure...one stops liquid drops and the other provides liquid drops." To which I replied: "Maybe they're for when ladies get that 'not so fresh' feeling."

I Bet Batman Drives This On His Off Days

Emoticon for Double-Chin Smile, With Double Drool

:))~~

Giving Cash When You Don't Have It, A Real-Life Story

When I'm low on cash I still try to give something to someone in need — it seems to encourage the circle of cash flow. But how do you choose who to give to with so many homeless on the streets of Los Angeles? While every instance is different, here's one of my stories.

I spotted a short and gray-bearded man in a dirty, torn white T-shirt standing at a 101 off-ramp in Echo Park. He didn't approach me, but stood there, looking at me, hands together like he was praying, and mouthing, "Please, please, please." I found myself grinning, thinking to myself that that's probably what I would be doing if I was ever forced onto the street, and had to ask for money. Like how I used to get down on my hands and knees and scoot into the TV room with my friend Natalie when we wanted to ask my mom if we could do something, like go buy candy at White Hen, and we would kneel there in front of her repeating, "Pleasies, pleasies, pleasies..." and she would laugh. Gotta add some humor in, right, make people feel like they're getting something for their money (or permission), even if it's just a smile. For instance, I always try to give to this one guy downtown who holds up the sign, "SAME OLD SHIT."

The bearded man in the torn white T-shirt also reminded me of a man who goes to my gramma's church in Chicago, who designs and prints these awesome Christian-themed T-shirts and sweatshirts that he wears to Sunday Mass. For instance, this one below.




Anyways, I pulled out one of three dollar bills in my wallet — the only money I had in addition to the 54 cents in my bank account — and went to hand it to him and he held out his styrofoam cup, caked with dirt on the inside. As I carefully maneuvered the dollar into the cup, he smiled at me and said, "Happy birthday!" and turned to walk away. And I smiled.

What I really want to do is set up a foundation of some sort, sponsor a master plan, that explores how to construct a social services network to better serve the homeless, and then make that happen.

Smurfhenge

The kids were playing — a smattering of Smurfs! This formation infers that the Smurfs were perhaps a polygamist or cloning society originally. Until the meteors hit.

Introducing: The Star Wars Tusken Raider Fire Hydrant

I saw this little guy in the Los Angeles neighborhood of Tatooine — oops, I mean Eagle Rock. Funny because I saw it as I was walking around, waiting to go babysit, having gotten there early, and it was right near the Rose Bowl Motel where I'd stayed a couple nights the week before. The Tusken Raiders, who live on the planet Tatooine, are a warrior nomadic race. I am quite the nomad currently. I'm working on the warrior part. Since I just saw a girl get her purse snatched, I should arm myself. I think this rifle will do. Stay tuned.

Whitney Houston's 90-Year-Old Fan Has Mad Dance Moves

As noted in my previous blog post, my first 7-inch record was Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)" and my gramma — who just turned 94 — said to me at the time about the cover art: "Why do we have to see her underwear?" (even though we can't see her underwear), and I talk about how I would make up rad dance moves to the song as an 8-year-old.

Anyhoo, my friend Sara posted this amazing video of a rad gram getting down to the song, and I can only hope I have this much soul in my bones at this age. And that I manage to perfect my dance moves to this level.

My First 7" Record? Yes, It Was Whitney Houston.

I can't remember who bought it for me, maybe it was my mom — I have memories of her dancing around our first house, belting out the lyrics to "Cecilia" by Simon & Garfunkel, as it played on our record player. Looking back, I did the same thing with this record. I played "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)" over and over again, dancing around the house, making up my own moves, sliding across the shiny wooden floors in my socks.

I don't know where this 7" is now, I think it's in my parent's garage. But that cover is very well-worn, from much putting-record-in-and-out action. I remember showing it to my gramma when I first got it. She looked at it kind of skeptically, and said something like, "Why do we have to see her underwear?" Of course, we can't see her underwear, but it was kind of racy cover art for an 8-year-old to have at the time maybe, at least in my mind. I think that's why I liked it. Whitney Houston was sexy and confident. How a woman who was so talented and beautiful somehow felt so void of love is sad, and that she stuck it out in an abusive relationship, fell into drugs as a crutch.



While Whitney apparently didn't write this song (that was George Merrill and Shannon Rubicam of Boy Meets Girl), I wonder how much input she had on it. It seems to sum up the emptiness that cloaked her life. As an adult looking back on this portrait and the real lyrics of this single (all I heard as a kid was "I wanna dance with somebody") — the vibe of the two just don't match up. A portrait of a sexy and confident woman, who's ready to take on the world, and a song about the blues and fighting the depths of loneliness. This single was released in 1987, supposedly two years before she met Bobby Brown, who many say dragged her to further depths from which she never quite recovered.

Clock strikes upon the hour/ And the sun begins to fade/ Still enough time to figure out/ How to chase my blues away

I've done alright up to now/ It's the light of day that shows me how/ And when the night falls, loneliness calls

Oh, wanna dance with somebody/ I wanna feel the heat with somebody/ Yeah I wanna dance with somebody/ With somebody who loves me

I've been in love and lost my senses/ Spinning through the town/ Sooner or later the fever ends/ And I wind up feeling down/ I need a man who'll take a chance/ On a love that burns hot enough to last/ So when the night falls/ My lonely heart calls.

The night ending up taking her. RIP Whitney. I'm sorry you felt so down, you didn't deserve to feel like that, no one does. Thanks for the dance memories and inspiration. Here's a link to some of the tributes to Whitney at the Grammys last night. And here's the site for the National Domestic Violence Hotline (1-800-799-SAFE).

P.S. I love this performance of Whitney singing "The National Anthem," such a confident energy, I wish the energy here would have carried her through.

Picture Frame? Necklace? Secret Ninja Weapon?

All of the above, that is correct.

Spotted this gem in the window of the vintage-y Luxe de Ville boutique in Echo Park, which never seems open, but looks pretty amazing from my drool-soaked sidewalk encampment.