Sunday night confessions

I have a reminder on my phone that says "Your Bag Needs Cleaning". I spend 30 minutes to an hour cleaning out my purse, workbag and Iolani's backpack.  I

While I'm going through my bags tonight, I'm finding four million (I'm likely exaggerating) tampons, mixed in with business cards, cough drops, and USB cords.  I'm so glad that I clean out my bag, because I'm sure that I'm heading off a repeat of something that happened to me in 1997, which I'm about to tell you about.

It was a cold day in Olympia...I was in the cafeteria getting my lunch.  I would always get Poulsbo whole wheat bread with mayo, alfalfa sprouts, sunflower seeds and provolone.  It cost something like $2.37... and I always carried EXACT change. Since it was right before payday, I was paying for my lunch in all coins.  Coins that I kept in my pocket.  

So, I get up to the super busy  register to pay for my sandwich, I reach into my pocket and grab all my change.  (I don't know why I'm continuing to tell this story, you already know how it ends).  I go to hand the cashier my coins that I had counted to the exact penny, not realizing that I was also trying to pass along my cute little OB.  Ya, thankfully the guy said "I don't have a tray for those, so you can just hold on to that...."

Absolutely embarrassed, it was not in the cards for me to find a table off in the corner so I could regain a tiny bit of my 20-something dignity back.  I had to sit right by the register, and with every bite of my sandwich I had to look at the poor cashier.

Skip to today...  Iolani sees them in my purse and thinks they are anything from earplugs, white chapstick, or those little bullets in the foam gun toy.

In closing, I never talk about tampons or periods.  I just wanted to tell you that should you see me at any point this week, you should know that my tampons are in order in my workbag.  No need to look in the zippered compartment.

So, he beats you!

Every once in a while I post something a bit too over the top.  This is one of those posts.  The folks who will read this post don't live nearby, and likely won't even read this post, so WTH, consider it venting.

So, you admit that he's beat you.  Congrats! You've admitted that you are in an abusive relationship.  I looked around the grocery store and apparently they don't have Hallmark cards for this.  I was bummed, but I had other groceries to buy so I had to move on.

I was looking around the internet for a card that I could send.  Unfortunately, when I Googled : "Congrats! He beats you!" the returns were all sports related.  The irony...

But, when I pulled out the "Congrats" - the results were startling!  (I'm being 100% sarcastic).  Did you know that if he beats you, you are likely in a very unhealthy relationship.  And, I read tonight - that if he beats you, you should leave.

According to scientists, I'm not supposed to tell you certain things, but according to this list I'm saying all the right things, and yet...he's moved back in.

Oh, I get it - there are kids involved.  So, you are okay with letting your children witness him beat you.  You are okay with him calling you names. I read tonight that if you kids see this kind of activity they are likely to repeat it when they are in their own relationships.  Don't believe it?  Here's the article, you read it...

There's one thing that I know you must think about this: while he's beating you, it is very likely that your kids are seeing this and at some point will think this is normal and that he will one day beat your children.  Yes - there I said it...one day he will take his hand in anger to one or all of your children, and you will be powerless to do anything to stop it.  Unless you stop this now by leaving him.  I don't say this to say you are guilty for his actions, but at some point you have a responsibility to protect your children from a violent environment.

Wait, wait...there's more...there's a whole syndrome about this whole "he's beating me"

Here are the symptoms:

1. The woman believes that the violence was her fault. 

2. The woman has an inability to place the responsibility for the violence elsewhere. 

3. The woman fears for her life and/or her children's lives.

4. The woman has an irrational belief that the abuser is omnipresent and omniscient.

If you aren't sure if you are in an abusive relationship, I found a checklist online for you to review

If you get through the checklist and you want to know why he beats you, another set of paragraphs to consider.

And, for the next time you declare that "It is OVER!!!" Here are some suggestions on how to handle him when he shows up at your work.  

Here's what you can do the next time you decide to leave - it's a step by step guide on what papers you need.  Please note - they suggest that you not tell him where you are going.

Statistics say that it takes about 7 times for you to leave him.  Well, I guess we have 6 more times until he's gone.  I truly hope you make it.  There are people who want to help you, you know what to say.

I love you, I want you safe, and you deserve nothing less than mutual love and respect from your partner.

Friday!

Today was a good day.  Spent the morning at City Hall with the DLANCers of past, present and future!  A huge thank you to Councilman Huizar and his staff (Jessica!!!) for putting all this together.

Seeing everyone today reminded me about how much I like my neighborhood council.  It sounds odd, but a likely thing to come from me.  I’ve been called Pollyanna, oblivious, self-serving, whatever…at least I’m called that by neighbors and not total strangers.  Regardless - it is just another group of people working to make life more fulfilling.

This is the last quiet week for a while.  Let’s take a moment and peek at what my world looks like, at least in my neighborhood….

There are those who are chomping at the bit for a series of environmental documents.  You know, the kind that outline where a train or streetcar would go.  Everyone wants to see their comment and how the agency responded.  

There are those who are antsy to take a next step to build a school.  Parents and children have been drawing up their wish list for classrooms, libraries, office space, playgrounds, and playgrounds with slides.

There are those who are excited to finish the renovations of the church’s parsonsge.  Some are excited because it would make the pastor and pastor’s family’s life much easier…at least it would be comfortable.  I’m anxious to get it finished because there are other things we need to build.  Like a church.

There are those who are giddy with preschool excitement to see who the new Dodger owner will be. I know that our spring will be busy, but I hope not to busy to give money to the Dodgers and not the McCourts.  

Now it is time to wrap this up...I had fun this morning.  I do miss being a board member, dare I say - I miss the meetings. Maybe one day, I'll run for a seat again.  Who knows...

I forgot to tell you!

I was just re-reading a blog entry from 2005 and realized that I didn't finish the story...

The original post:

I tell this story a million times, but it’s a good story...One day at Mud Bay Coffee, I was behind the counter making, um, coffee. It was raining outside, it was Christmas time. The majority of our customers were women, who worked, who had kids, had big houses, and big expectations. They also had weird drink. A customer, known to me as Pineapple-Latte-Lady, had twin boys, and she had come in for her afternoon tall Pineapple latte.[in the background as I write this, one of the train doors has stopped working, and I’ve spent the last couple of minutes at the South Pasadena station]Anyways...A Pineapple latte is difficult to make. If the milk isn’t just the right temperature the syrup will crystalize, and the milk looks like it’s curdling. Yuck. So - you’ve got to pay attention when you are steaming the milk. Because if you get it too hot, you have to start all over again.Anyways, PLL sat down and began to enjoy her drink. I sat behind the counter proud that I had yet again conquered syrup! She asked me how school was going.

How the story ends:
I told her school was done for the year, and something about going to Europe in the summer.  We spent a good 30 minutes chatting away. I realized that it was getting dark.  Asked her if she had family coming over, how the boys were holding up through potty training.  Her reply:

"I have about 30 people over at the house right now, and the ham will be done in about 20 minutes.  I'l head back in a couple of minutes.  I'm sure no one has noticed I was gone."

I am "That Mom"

As I was busy reviewing all the beautiful Christmas trees, holiday lights, happy family photos, and other cheesy festive activities, I was reminded that I typically fail in keeping up with the great American season of glutton.  I'm don't mean to knock the sentimentality of it all, just pointing out my absolute disregard and under appreciation for the efforts that so many of you take on from mid-October to Superbowl.

However, I love to do these "end of year" lists.  So, in the spirit of wrapping up the year, I've developed a bullet list that summarizes the accomplishments of this year...

Introducing: "I am "THAT MOM" who...

• lives off some sort of "i" device
• is thankfully employed, with health and dental insurance
• has no regrets that I provide an "i" device to our child at the restaurant, on the potty chair, or when the Real Housewives of Brentwood and Thousand Oaks is on
• wonders why the child asked me if she could cut this, climb up there, or something when she knows I'm going to say no
• forgets to sign up for the parent/teacher conference, but we talk all the time so...
• tears up when the child freaks out at school on Monday morning because the child feels like she's being abandoned
• has a husband who is so awesome at trip planning, that I know he missed his calling as a travel agent
• used to live on the "Your emergency isn't my emergency" mantra, however now it is "My emergency is about to become your emergency, so...um ya...it's like that"
• feels no guilt come Monday morning and the child is not only happy to see you walk away, but that I feel giddy as I head to the car to work
• makes all her phone calls in the car
• is proud of her daughter for proclaiming that she's "Healthy Strong"
• will call your movie or commercial making ass out if you so much as unhitch that generator under our window
• leaves clothes all over the house, knowing my dear husband will pick up after me
• considers an empty office the ultimate in "me time"
• lets her kid go out "In that?!!?"
• wonders about the credit card bill, but never manages to pick up the mail
• is willing to be held hostage in a bathroom...only if it is at Nordstroms
• lets the child do anything she wants, even though I might have said no three times
• is annoyed when there's that guy in line at Starbucks who doesn't know what he wants to order (Seriously, they haven't changed the menu)
• tries to remember: This isn't a competition, but is proud to see her daughter running around in panties, and that other kid still in diapers
• is thankful her daughter doesn't like to hide poop
• knows when there's a new episode of Yo Gabba Gabba and the next release date for a transit publication
• can interpret what the child said when no one else can AND you don't want to repeat what she said...because she called the old lady at famima "Fat"
• screams FUCK!!!! when husband and child try to carry on two or three conversations with me
• makes dinner, calls the tribe to the table and is annoyed that it takes 15 additional minutes for them to get their butts in the chair
• packs for a vacation the weekend before the big trip for three people but scrambles every morning trying to figure out what to wear to work
• feels a tiny bit of guilt when I say "Daddy is going eat your food if you don't get back to the table"
• forgets about signing up for the school potluck, but always willing to STS with the teachers
• tweets incessantly about silly things that happen through the day, but can't be bothered with a blog entry
• still has 2T clothes in the drawers that "kind of fit" because the daughter loves to wear them everyday
• has an amazing group of people around her that helps to quell my insecurities about being a full-time employee, Mommy, and Wife

I just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone for such a wonderful year.  2012, looks to be an even busier year....  Although I heard that it is end times.  Oh man...better go get a new purse.

goseethefishiesdiverattheaquarium

For the last two weeks Iolani has been asking to "goseethefishiesdiverattheaquarium" aka go to the Aquarium of the Pacific.  When she is excited or frustrated for something all her words run together. Alex purchased a membership after our second visit. You see, my husband is a very smart man.  Very smart.

Iolani **LOVES** the aquarium.  The thing she loves the most: the presentation made by the divers. A few times we visited, it was only to see the divers, and not the other exhibits.  She gets a kick out of giving the divers a high five through the window.  Or, today - she went totally bieber...when the diver blew a kiss back to her.  Swoon....

It warms my heart to see her so excited about water, watersheds, and all that earthy "stuff".  We live in the city...I grew up in the woods, around a lot of salal, trees, streams, and the canal.  What I saw growing up is going to be very different from what I saw growing up.  I would like her to feel comfortable with nature.  If going to the aquarium is one way to do this, then Ya-hoo for us.

GH&T is 7

I started my blog on December 2, 2004.  A lot has changed since then.  President Bush was getting ready to start his final term, Alex and I were living at Santee Court, and I had fallen in love with my neighborhood.  It is a little overwhelming to think about the past 7 years.  Even more overwhelming is to think that 7 years ago - Facebook wasn't a "thing" off of some stuffy college campus .wink.  Twitter wasn't around yet...

Pale Purple

For the last couple of weeks, getting dressed in the morning has been a….challenge.  One that I'm sure my neighbors wonder what I'm doing in our apartment to make Iolani scream like that.  Getting Iolani dressed in the morning is like trying to get…oh fuck…I don't know how to compare it anything.  I mean, she wiggles, tosses her hands, kicks her feet, screams, and my personal favorite: she bites.  

She doesn't usually bite.  I mean, except in those rare instances when she's >>REALLY<< angry.  You know, like if you actually take the ice cream away from her and tell her to get in the tub.  

But, there we were last week.  She's all red, I'm near tears, and it is 8:30, I'm late for work, she's late for school, and she is still in her pajamas.  Or worse - just naked.  

Last night I noticed that she could unbutton her shirt by herself.  Something in my head clicked: Hey, maybe she's pissy about getting dressed in the morning because I am dressing her.  Maybe, just maybe she wants to do it by herself?

So, this morning when I'm saying - time to get dressed, come here…I instead opt to ask her for her pajamas so that I could put them in the wash.  BAM…the motherfucking pajamas are on the fucking floor.  Yes…pure joyous excitement on my part.  

Phase two: "Get the clothes on".  I hand her the pants and offer balancing assistance.  Pants on. Shirt on.  In my head I'm thinking: "Holy shit…this whole time I've been a total bitch to her…my girl wants to do this shit by herself, and I'm here hovering.  Well, damn." 

The socks soon followed, and then shoes.  Then we walked out the door with my purse, workbag, and her backpack.  We did well.  Not a red mark, no mommy tears.  Just the extreme guilt that I was holding my daughter back from the independence that Ani Difranco has belted out for years.  

No guilt or anything….I mean I guess I am the Oppressive Mommy.  :-)

In any case, all was not lost…I did forget her cup at home.  The look of absolute disappointment in the elevator, in front of all her friends nonetheless was reminder enough: Don't bitch at the child unless you have packed up all her stuff for school first.

Going to the movies again!

Parents: I bring the good news...you CAN go to the movie theater, order one drink, and bring your kid with you!

Alex and I used to go to the movies all the time before Iolani.  Our place to go was the Arclight.  I think Alex still has enough points to go see movies for free for quite some time. My favorite part about the theater is that more often than not, people like Alex and I were at the theater.  There were no children, no babies, and assigned seating.  I like those kinds of theaters.  I especially like theaters that don't have crowds of people. (because I don't deal well with crowds)

Just when I thought we would be left with a big corporate theater...in comes Gold Class Cinemas!!!  In Pasadena, off the Memorial Park station of the Gold Line.  We (as in Alex) bought out tickets online, explained to Iolani that we were going to see a movie, and she was so excited that she asked me where her Halloween candy was.

Side note: I no longer enjoy Halloween.  Fuck, seriously - the candy is driving me bonkers.  It isn't so much the candy, but that the candy's in the house, and Iolani knows it.  She woke up at 4 a.m. one morning last week - demanding candy.  She gets home from school - "where's my candy".  She sits for dinner - "where's my candy".  Fucking hate these candy crap.  People need to stop giving out candy and start giving out crayons, play dough that isn't black (because I have recently figured out that black play dough stains the carpet...joy...), plastic spider rings, pretzels, a bike...anything by Sweettarts, mint milky ways, and starbursts.

Back to the movie...I need to talk faster, I'm losing interest.  If I'm losing interest, you've already clicked away.

The movie screens are actually two floors down.  When you get to the bottom of the escalators, parents will find something that looks familiar...it looks like a nice bar.  But, it is a nice bar with a family bathroom (but not a kid toilet, but Iolani used the big toilet anyways).  You are met at the bottom of the escalator with waitstaff...who is going to walk you all the way to your seat.  Oh...how nice was it not to have the sharp bickering witty banter with Alex about which way to the theater and to our seats.  The three of us shared two seats...which are two lazy-boy recliners joined together.  Oh, it was perfect.  While Alex was stretched out, enjoying the arm rest, reviewing the menu...I made the poor decision to show Iolani the buttons that reclined my seat.  Thank  god I had already looked at the menu online, and knew that the four cheese pizza would work.

We watched our movie, Iolani wiggled through most of the movie - but given the layout...Missy didn't really bother anyone.  Well...we weren't the only family in there with a young child....  In all honesty...we were there for that movie that sounds like toots in boots (Why is there a childrens' movie that encourages my little innocent girl to say: Pussy?

She can't just say Puss...it doesn't come out right.

Regardless, the food was a little salty.  But, who the fuck cares about that?  We got to go to the movies, it was relaxing, and no one wet their pants.  All in all, total win.

Until she had an exhaustion-induced breakdown after gelato, because I am a horrible mother who caused her to leave behind her unfinished dessert on top of a garbage can.  eh, whatever...I'm sure I'll do worse sooner or later.

This blog entry sucks.  I'll summarize: I enjoyed going to THIS movie theater.  I hope that we go more often.

Daily update

This is too long to tweet. The most exciting thing that happened today, besides Iolani not wanting to be harried everywhere, my iPhone getting repaired at the Apple store, and the church meeting... Was the email about a kick off meeting for a certain project that is finally heading into construction! Finally, something that goes from planning, engineering...construction is the light at the end of the tunnel. No accolades for successful guesses. :-)

My poor attempt at dark humor

Today is the anniversary of my mother's passing.  Yes, 17 years ago, she died. She was forced to leave behind three children, 23 undone quilts, about 3 grand in bad checks, and a lifetime membership in the NRA that was very difficult close out.

I could recount all the exciting and life changing activities that followed, but why?  When I can tell you this little tidbit, that reminds me that God truly has a sense of humor.

My mother and her mother are both up in heaven.  I know this... I am pretty sure that Mom is enjoying her unending supply of Virginia Slims.  Grandma Margaret is likely enjoying her favorite afternoon drink...right now (I know, it's only 10, but afternoon starts early for some ladies).  If my mother was anything like me in her teens, I'm sure that Mom and Margaret continue to have their bickering little fights, their gossip...all that to say... I'm pretty sure that heaven is NOT a quiet place.

Which explains why Grandpa Bob has done such a great job in staying down here....because he knows that up in heaven...it is going to get really loud.

Sick in the City

Funny title right?

There's one drawback to living in the same neighborhood you happen to work in: Being Sick.  I'm home sick today.  I have a fever, runny nose, and oh...so much more.  I'm a little pale (yes, it is possible), dull eyes, very tired...sick.  Home...sick.

I did have to venture out to get the usual "I've got a cold" supplies, like tissue, cough drops, chicken soup, and cash for Iolani's doctor appointment coming up in an hour or two.  But, I only got as far as getting the cash.  Everything else will have to wait until after 5 p.m.

After 5 p.m....anyone I work with or for will have escaped the neighborhood in order to nestle back in their own neighborhood.  I was outside the building - maybe by about 15 steps and I saw a couple of the folks from the Regional Connector PE team.  I'm not a vain person, but I don't need these folks seeing me in my kind of pajamas/weekend/sick wear.

I don't have the energy to put on work clothes, deodorant or socks in order to get my chicken soup.  I'd rather starve it out for a couple of hours in order to avoid the sidewalk at Wilshire/Hope.

File that under: things not said during the housing tour.  :-)

Privacy please

During bath time tonight, Iolani was obviously annoyed with me.  She would mumble, "Mommy go away" and "Mommy five more minutes". I can't just up and leave her in the tub.  

But, now she not only says "Mommy go away" but she pulls the shower curtain closed and announces "Privacy Please". Drives me bonkers.

Privacy please.  

oh, Please.

Red sky at night, sailor’s delight. Red sky in morning, sailor’s warning

The sailor's warning.  Translated into my world: No phone calls at night, mommy's delight. First text message before 7 in the morning - oh fuck, find a desk to hide under.

Accurate? Discuss....

Hair Glitter and Pocoyo

There are mornings that I wonder if a camera has been secretly outfitted in our apartment. 

I woke up this morning for my “me time” and planted myself in front of the television.  My only goal was to finish the most recent episodes of “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills”, say what you will about reality TV, but I can absolutely relate to these ladies…  I mean if you take away the idea they live in Beverly Hills (which most of them don’t) and are rich (most of them aren’t) then there are things about each of the ladies that I can appreciate.  Adrianne’s definitely my favorite – except for that hair glitter?  Why?  I don’t get it.

During the commercial, a little after 7, I go into Iolani’s room to find her cuddled up to Moe.  Not wanting to disturb her too much (because I’m still in the middle of the show and it only takes about 20 minutes to get her out the door), I cover her up and tiptoe out.

However, by the time I’ve made it back to the couch, the little sneaky bugger has slipped up to the couch and is now asking for Pocoyo.  Fucking Pocoyo…please…let me finish my show.  “Mommy wants to finish her show and then we will watch Pocoyo” I say.

We finish my show, and I ask her what she wants for breakfast.  “Nothing” she says.  Maybe too much Housewives as my daughter is already thinking about skipping breakfast?  Ah, have no fear…Iolani saw a little microwave dinner, she points out that she wants that…  Spaghetti for breakfast it is.

Why am I being so accommodating this morning?  Spaghetti for breakfast?

Picture Day!!!!

Alex and I needed Iolani in nice clothes for school.  We needed her to ditch her Toy Story/Yo Gabba Gabba/Elmo stained shirts that she usually demands to wear – for a clean tunic.  You know, preferably something her grandmother (Lola) has purchased for her.

As Pocoyo has mesmerized our child, I slip on the purple top, clean pants, socks, shoes…and I comb her hair, she’s touting the joys of Pocoyo.  At this point, I don’t fucking care what’s up on the TV show – I’m just happy she isn’t shouting “I don’t want to wear this!!!!!”

And, with that – I get us out the door.  We are nearly halfway to the elevator when Iolani announces she needs a cup for school.  She doesn’t need a cup for school, she has 3 at school right now.  However, not to be deterred, she stomps her feet and proclaims: 

I NEED MY WOODY CUP FOR SCHOOL!!!!!

Holy shit, the girl needs a cup.  We run back to the house, she looks for the damn Woody cup and figures out that it is indeed at school.  She picks another cup, asks for “temonade” (ahhh, how cute)…which we have very little of.  (Grocery night is needed)

Back to the car.  She gets in, I buckle her into her seat.  I get into my seat and remember the days I used to slip into my seat and turn on blaring Green Day.  Today – I now keep the radio off in an effort to have my last bits of communication with Iolani before she heads into school.

The whole drive to work was about Moe the Bear hitting her.  Rather than hit back, I’ve been trying to teach her to point her finger and say – I don’t like that.

I can’t wait for the day that I tell her no to something, and she waves her finger back at me and says – No, I don’t like that.  Half of me is being sarcastic, but I’ll trade that for a fall-to-the-floor-wail-for-$1200 purse tantrum at Nordstroms.  (and just to clarify…Iolani would be the one falling to the floor.  I no longer throw a tantrum for $1200 purses, New Years Resolution you know)

We get into school, all settled in.  No tears, no hugs.  She leans in to kiss me with spaghetti half hanging out her mouth.  Yes….  I did hesitate for the morning kiss.  I’ve kissed worse things in the morning, so I doubled back to kiss my daughter goodbye.  I asked the teacher what time pictures would be taken.

Her reply: Picture day is tomorrow.

Panties in a bunch...that's me!

Sometimes it is really difficult for me to enjoy the local paper. There was the best of Downtown, which celebrated all the wonderful corporate and franchise restaurants, (At least DN fessed up to sharing my concerns and made some changes for 2011.) and now there's this article about the parents who are fleeing the neighborhood because we lack school. 

Can I just say "what total crap" and move on?  No.  I can't.  I can say - what an incomplete, half-assed article.  I love Tricia, she's a neighbor, her daughter is almost two months older than mine…but this article is total crap and fails…FAILS to paint the full picture of the Family Situation in Downtown Los Angeles.

And, I'm going to tell you why. (and listen Richard…nothing personal, but I know Downtown News can spare the space…you missed a key point)

Housing prices, specifically rental prices.

Take note: Overall average rental prices did go down between 2009 and 2010, but the average rental prices for two bedroom units did not experience the same kind of dramatic fall. (http://www.apartmentratings.com/rate?a=MSAAvgRentalPrice&msa=4472)

Rental prices have increased for both one and two bedroom apartments in Los Angeles - but the rate of increase between one to two bedrooms is more significant.  http://www.apartmentratings.com/rate/CA-Los-Angeles-Pricing.html

Meaning - there's a need for two bedroom places, there's not enough rental housing stock for families. 

If you are a City of Los Angeles family that needs more than two bedrooms, you are just utterly and completely screwed. Screwed…as the average rental rate for a 3 bedroom unit is over $3,000 a month…and there's only about 146 of those available.  Two bedrooms: Average is about $2500.

In our neighborhood, Rentometer says that we should expect to pay $2800 a month for our two bedroom apartment.  Thank you to Pegasus…we pay under that.  We have seen the units that run for $2300, $2500, $2800 and higher…we cannot afford to live in a place for more than $2300 a month.  And, we are a two income, white collar household.  

There are plenty of DTLA families who purchased their units - they cannot just up and move. Either because they lack any equity in their mortgage and cannot sell their unit, or they truly love their neighborhood and they've made a commitment to make it all work out.

Additionally - you have to ask why parents are moving to the better LAUSD schools.  I understand that individual schools haven't been rock star schools forever.  Parents, students, administrators and teachers before us made a commitment to making that school the way it is.  There's a school in our backyard that is poised to repeat that track.  Why not be a part of it?

Housing prices, regardless of where you are at in the City of Los Angeles is breaking the back of her residents. My husband and I know plenty of people who have not just moved from DTLA because of schools…they are moving because the higher value of the housing stock, neighborhood, and the entire school district.  (Looking at you La Canada Flintridge, Pasadena, and South Pasadena)

So, Richard…you missed something.  People aren't leaving >just< because we lack a Cheremoya, Solano, Allesando, or an Ivanhoe today, doesn't mean we can't have one tomorrow.  Parents are leaving because they are getting priced out of the neighborhood, overall concern regarding LAUSD, and other likely more personal preferences and beliefs. 

I should just stop right there...but ANOTHER THING, if there are so few families and children in DTLA, why is the Kid City South Park program FULL?  Why was the Biltmore Hotel's Gingerbread Man thing...FULL.  Why was the CCA's halloween event FULL. When Little Tokyo hosted two Yo Gabba Gabba episodes...PACKED!   There are a lot of kids in DTLA...the kids in the neighborhood are not clumped together in the Hipster Heaven Historic Core (You know I love you guys) or even the Financial District...they are stuffed in overcrowded apartments in South Park.  There are well over 500 children in South Park.  There's a big reason why the survey completed didn't catch that...the survey was only available in English.  Maybe next time the survey is done, add in a couple of Korean, Spanish, or even Japanese copies and see what comes back.  Fuck...you'll see that we will still have a market for Target, Nordstrom Rack, Petco, and a motherfucking Gymboree.

See...I almost went the whole blog entry without a potty word.  Fuck it...I need a nap.

How do you get kicked out of a neighborhood?

My original post has been edited below.  Additionally, The Downtown News has published an article in response to the question asked on the DTLA Parents Facebook Group.  My feelings on the topic remain unchanged.

On the Facebook group tonight, parents were asked if they are considering leaving the neighborhood in order to get closer to a "better" school. It is a touchy subject because if a couple of reasons:

1) Parents already live in this world were we are constantly comparing our parenting skills to another. As a parent, we know we judge other parents...accidentally or on purpose. So to say "are you going to move out of the neighborhood to find a better school" is the same thing as asking yourself "do I buy the formula with the extra brain power powder or do I hang on and keep nursing?"

2) When a parent admits that they "need" to leave the neighborhood in search of a better school...are we giving up on the neighborhood that we have spend years building and enjoying?

3) When our friends have their kids and move off to the Ivanhoe neighborhood, do we feel that little twinge of guilt that maybe we should be doing the same thing?

4) As a parent, am I all the sudden being asked to value new restaurants, shopping centers, and quality parks over quality education?

Even if you don't have children, it is something, somewhere in your mind you have considered. Maybe I'm asking a very big question of my neighbors...are you in this for the long haul, or is this neighborhood a casual relationship that seems like a remnant of your twenties?

The schools in the neighborhood are improving. We have a lot of new buildings, and LAUSD is LAUSD, and there are so many factors that can cause a school and a classroom to change from year to year. We want to be able to take advantage of every opportunity available to Iolani.

I'm hopeful and optimistic that the Brideaus can stay in DTLA. So far, it isn't the school system pushing us out, but rather the lack of affordable rent for middle (maybe even upper middle) dual income families. For us, it isn't a matter how how long we can stay in the neighborhood we call home, it is a matter of how long will DTLA let us stay.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:S Flower St,Los Angeles,United States

About that Tablet fad

I used to think the whole iPad thing was just a fad that would come and go...like the Newton, or Handspring.  That was until the iPad was turned into a piece of work equipment. And now....I don't know how I functioned without it.  I no longer carry around a day planner, pad of paper, pens, papers containing agendas, meeting minutes, or fact sheets. I carry my stylus and my iPad. ...  My monogrammed iPad (thank you boss)

There's only one hangup: the initial distraction of what the iPad means to a business meeting.  The moment I sit down, pull out the iPad and start to jot down my notes, inevitably someone whispers; "Hey, what program are you using to do that?"

So, here...for those whisperers who don't even read this blog...here's my  "So Your Boss Got You An iPad, What Apps Do You Need" list.

In no order of preference:

• neu.Annotate
• Penultimate (get the stylus...any stylus, or you will wear out your finger)
• Pages
• Numbers
• Keynote

All of the apps cost money.  None of the apps that will do you a damn bit of good are free. So just stop hunting around for the free version.  

And, notice that I didn't tell you anything about what each of the apps do.  I know that you will simply follow the link and read the reviews anyway.  All I need to tell you is that I use these every day to do my job.  

Jesus, I'm tired. Good Night.

35 today.

That's me, not Instagram.  

10 minutes to bring you up to speed

I present to you - three years (okay...35 months) of Iolani...