Where'd they go?

@Pantlessalley sent me a tweet tonight, asking why I though DTLA bloggers left town.  They were responding to a previous post of mine.

Why do people leave DT? There's a whole host of reasons.  It almost seems like most Angelenos are transients...we move from apartment to apartment based on our lease agreements.  You could say it is the nature of living in Los Angeles that you'll need or want to move soon.

When people move out of Downtown, we get weird.  When we moved from the Financial District to El Pueblo - I admit it...I relied on Hal to tell me that I wasn't being moved out of Downtown.  I needed to know I was still in the Neighborhood.  Whew.

So, without any real emotion - here is the list of reasons people have given me as to why they moved out of Downtown:

• They bought a house, with a yard
• Their job made them move
• They "went back home"
• Their rent was increased
• They broke up with their partner and needed to find something on their own
• Accosted on the street
• Grew tired of panhandlers
• They got a kid
• They want a kid
• Tired of their noisy neighbor

I've never had anyone tell me they've moved out of the neighborhood because a particular store is missing. I'll probably be here forever.  I grew up with a big yard, it required a lot of maintenance.  Outside of Southern California- professionally - I'm highly useless.  If we "went back home" we'd go to Alex's parents in Santa Monica.  Rent...is what it is.... The kid came to us and clearly...she wouldn't know what to do with a backyard.  She'd likely breakdown the fence and start inviting random people over for dinner.

The noisy neighbor...well....all you really can do is blog about it.

Where did they go?

Dogs alone don't make a community

Every time I get a new antibiotic prescription, I get this stern warning from the doctor to slow down. While I appreciate her concern, I cant imagine what slowing down look like, let alone feel like. All that said, this April has been one for the books. I think our April's will always be crazy. April 2008: Iolani announced herself. April 2009: wedding and honeymoon. April 2010: we were overwhelmed with daycare and a trip to Washington. April 2011: a trip to Washington to celebrate Grandpa Bob's birthday mixed in with a bit of little sister drama. April 2012, we had a move, and on the work front..some environmental documents that were yearning for approval.

Now that we have this new lease, that puts us in a better position in the future to take advantage of "pre summer" leasing rates. What a pain. 11 months from now we will have to subject our household to looking for a different apartment, packing up again....

You know...I wonder if anyone who leases apartments considered what kind of money could be made if 18, 24, or 36 month leases were available. Imagine what kind of friendly apartment community one could have if such an option would be available.

The Mommy Post: Beds

Iolani is still sleeping in her toddler bed.  Her legs aren't reaching the other end of the bed, but she is getting close.  It has been a consistent conversation in our house.  It's difficult for us to decide on furniture.  On one hand, there's someone in the house who's very "design" oriented, and then there's someone else in the house who's got the keen eye on how something is supposed to be kept clean.

In any case, here's what we've been looking at:

Ikea's Reversible Bed:
Like everything else in our house - it is Ikea, practical, easy to build...and the likely purchase.

Wow Girl Bed:
My personal favorite.  The ladder has a handrail.  The slide is good for a quick dismount.

Pocono Bookcase/Storage Bed:

Don't get excited, I'm not suggesting the whole set - just the bed and headboard.  This seems to be very flexible for whatever apartment we move to.  I can't imagine us staying in one apartment for more than three years.  It is really up to the rental market.

LA Union Station Master Plan Vision Board Event!!!

Check out the current Metro page for some background information

Go to the AIA Los Angeles site for the details

Don't lose steam!

Don't forget - you still need to read the new Football Stadium EIS/EIR

Where are the Bloggiests?

Can I sound like an old woman for a moment?  Way back in 2007, when Eric Richardson used to run BlogDowntown - he posted an article about DTLA being the 3rd most "bloogiest" neighborhoods in the country.  We were probably outdone by some SF neighborhood.  But, let's not brood on the past.  

 Except, for those who know me, know that I'm a brooder.  I got to wondering this morning about those blogs linked at the bottom of the BlogDowntown Page.  Take a peek.... you can do two things, click the link to see the websites lined or just read my narrative on "where are they now".

http://viewfromaloft.typepad.com/ continues to post, and Ed also writes for KCET.  He is a well known and prolific writer on anything having to do with the Arts District.  If it includes a spray can or a mural - Ed's your guy.  

http://5thandspring.blogspot.com/ still posting and filmmaking.  She's one of the owners of RAW Materials, a brilliant art supply shop located on Main Street.  

http://angelenic.com/ was a blog I used to see as a prime competitor to BlogDowntown.  Rich has since closed up shop on the blog, moved out of DTLA (but is still spotted in the neighborhood from time to time), and is working in a non-blogging world.  I'll always think of him as an awesome neighbor. 

http://bgfa.blogspot.com/ up and moved to CHICAGO, CHICAGO...

http://centralcitye.blogspot.com/ made the switch from blogging to micro-blogging to Facebook.  Don's still around, enjoying SkidRokyo, Skid Row Heights and other DT words.  Don's very much still Downtown.  

http://dnaonbroadway.blogspot.com/ isn't on Broadway anymore...They are SoPa's, or South Parkians, or South Park residents.  

http://downtownbookblog.blogspot.com/ relocated to http://metropolisbooksla.wordpress.com/ and is very much still downtown.

http://www.downtownchick.com/ is still there.  

http://eecue.com/ moved from the HC to LT to AD.  

www.ginnycase.com is till there, annoying as ever.  However, she's moved from the Fashion District to the Historic Core, to the Financial District to Chinatown.  OMG.

http://inlaonla.blogspot.com/ hasn't updated since 2009.  Eric was generous in linking to someone who had posted all of 18 times.

http://lacowboy.blogspot.com/ is Brady's home.  Brady's not really one for Facebook or Twitter.  This blog is likely the most structurally sound thing in his life.  :-)

http://blog.littletokyounplugged.org/ doesn't post that often.  For LT information - you really have to piece is all together from Rafu, Kizuna, FB, and the LTCC website, like http://littletokyola.org/

http://pamelameekorouse.blogspot.com/ was "Meeko on Main" who is now in Emeryville.  

http://www.scribeskidrow.blogspot.com/, as I understand - moved up and out of town.

http://trainedmonkey.com/ is still in the neighborhood.  He's also one of the owners of RAW Materials.  

http://www.talesofdowntown.com/ also moved DTLA, but continues to talk DTLA.

http://underthealexandria.blogspot.com/ is still around, and is active on the FB groups. Their kid is a little older than ours, so I stalk them to see what they do with school stuff.

http://urbanmemo.blogspot.com/ stopped posting in 2010.

http://cartersblog.wordpress.com/ stopped posting so long ago that WordPress gave them the total F-U.

http://skidrowdude.com/ is up in Sacramento.  I'm sure it's a move out, but it's Sacramento.

So, with all that said - I can now admit that I am not a big fan for the direction BlogDowntown has taken.  It used to be that our hyper-local projects could get the "mainstream media" treatment.  The blog is still looked at by potential investors, and rather than the "DTLA is Open and Ready" for your business, they are met with a confusing message of cautious optimism on Monday, and total pessimism come Friday.  

It's sad.  I'm pretty sure that wasn't Eric's vision.  And, even worse...it isn't Eric's fault.

So, where do we look?  Who covers DTLA with wild abandon?  

These are the sites that I see as complete alternatives to the turn BlogDowntown has taken:

BrighamYen

Curbed

StreetsBlog

Rafu

DTLA Facebook Group

KCET, UpDaily

Finally, BlogDowntown's grumpy old stepmother...SCPR

Helicopters Coming to the Historic Core

From FilmLA...

Part 2: The Movers

One doesn’t have to hunt for movers.  They find you.  It sucks.  If you provide your contact information on one website, it’s passed around like, um...there’s just not an appropriate reference.  Let’s just say, one website submission caused 23 incoming phone calls.  I returned only one message.  I called ASAP Relocations because the message left didn’t sound like a script, but it didn’t sound like the guy didn’t care...he just sounded easy, breezy.  

The price was the same as all the other movers - so it really did come down to how comfortable I felt with the sales guy.  

Imagine my surprise when I start telling prospective movers that I was going with ASAP Relocations, and the movers I chose NOT to go with tell me that ASAP has an “F” with the Better Business Bureau. I knew that, but at the same time their local references all gave them okay reviews.  

Here’s the deal - with movers...  1) just like with your car mechanic, doctor, or in-laws...you need to be aware of what’s going on.  2) You have to be willing to be in the mix, so you know what’s going on.  3) Movers, car mechanics, doctors, in-laws...are all imperfect people just like you and me.  I’m usually of the optimistic mind-set that if you keep dialed in on what’s going on, you can avoid a bad situation.

Now - to be completely fair - I read through the BBB reviews, Yelp, and all that.  I saw the bad and ugly.  So, I called into ASAP and asked them to explain what happened.  I felt reassured that my sales guy didn’t try to avoid talking about it, or avoid implying one thing or another.  His tone of voice left me with the impression of recognition of the past, and a desire to do right and fix things.  I stuck with my order - but ended the call with a “Things better go well, I blog you know”.

Then, things in our house changed...we went from a “move” to a “pack and move” after we realized that we didn’t have enough time to get the house packed up by ourselves.  ASAP accommodated our last minute request (who wouldn’t...) to up our order.  

The guys showed up at the time they said they would.  Mauricio said it would take 10 hours to get the job done, and I was a bit caught off guard.  10 hours seemed like a really long time.  At the same time, I had to remind myself that it was a “pack AND move” not just a move.  If I would have done the packing by myself - it would have taken  me over 10 hours...and I would still have to have movers to move the stuff.  So - it made sense. Ultimately - it took 9.5 hours.  

They were professionally dressed, very polite, and fast.  I was there packing up as well, available to answer questions.  These guys moved. There was only one casualty in the move - one drinking glass.  But, to their credit...I left it on the kitchen table mixed in with their contract...so it is hard to say it was the mover’s fault.  

Next time - here’s what I would do:

1. Still do a full “pack and move”
2. Get an on-site pre-job estimate days before the move
3. Your estimate will come in writing (if your guys are legitimate and on the books), so you will know how much you are about to spend.
4. Plan to buy lunch after the house is packed up, but before it is unpacked.  
5. Remember the tip...in cash.  Estimate on the high end (the full 20%) and be able to scale back as needed.  

I’ve already recommended ASAP Relocations to friends.  You know it is that time of year.  If you do use ASAP Relocations...be sure to ask for Wayne...but more importantly - you want Mauricio as your move-leader.  The guy knows how to move, keep his team motivated, and keeps a smile on his face.

Moved...Part 1

We moved, again.  I feel like I’ve moved more often than most members of active military. Since ’01, I have moved 8 times:

1. Malibu --> Amherst
2. Amherst --> Santa Monica/Ohio
3. Santa Monica/Ohio --> Wilshire/Bundy
4. Wilshire/Bundy --> Santee Court
5. Santee Court --> PE Lofts
6. PE Lofts --> SB Manhattan
7. SB Manhattan --> Pegasus
8. Pegasus --> Mozaic

I’ll point out so humbly, I’m a pro at moving. We did a couple of things differently for this move, and I’m totally sold on making sure all of our moves go this way in the future.

For this move we used RePax for our moving boxes. These are heavy duty green crates that stack.  We didn’t want to use cardboard boxes at all.  After a move is concluded, I have always hated how I have these cardboard boxes that I have to find some way to toss out (or recycle) these boxes. Getting boxes out to the recycle bin is a total waste of my time - that is why in the past I’ve always asked (or implied) Alex to break down the boxes and get them out to where ever they are supposed to go.

I ordered the two-bedroom bundle, with 35 crates and three dollies. The Next time I will order the three-bedroom bundle.  We don’t have a lot of stuff, but Iolani has a lot of fluffy toys...I have poorly organized cupboards, and Alex has a lot of bits and pieces that just don’t pack efficiently.  We ran out of green containers about 3/4 the way through packing. 

When packing, it was great that we could just stuff the crates, making them impossibly heavy.  As long as we put empty crates on top of the heavily packed crate, we could get a lot of our stuff in them.  

When it came time to move the crates, it was awesome because the movers could take 5 or 10 of them at one time.  This saved a lot of time - both getting things out of the old apartment and into the next one.

Then, when it came to unpacking, my favorite part - I could tell when I had 10 boxes to go...5 boxes to go...1 box to go... and finally - All done!  OMG - when I got down to 6 crates left, I couldn’t help myself.  I kept emailing the Repax folks to tell them I was almost done.  I’m sure I was the most annoying customer they’ve ever had. And, here’s why:

1. Because this was such a last minute move, if I didn’t need to be somewhere in person, and I could have someone do something in my place...that’s how it happened.  The RePax folks delivered the crates to the Pegasus...and INSIDE our apartment.  When I got home from work, all the packing materials were inside the apartment.  We went back and forth, with me asking for an earlier delivery, later delivery, what kind of delivery.  I’m sure all they needed me to say was “Drop them off in the living room, and enjoy the traffic back to Culver City”
   
2. Pick up was tricky...because I made it tricky.  Last night, I still had over 10 green crates to unpack before a Monday pick up.  This morning I sent a desperate email asking for them to list me as their very last pick up.  They accommodated my request. I’m sure at some point I wore out my welcome, but...hey...I’m needy.  Imagine my surprise when I finished unpacking the last crate at 11 a.m.!  I thought it would take me longer.  I immediately emailed RePax and let them know I was done!  (in my head I was thinking “OMG!!! I AM DONE UNPACKING!!!!) They emailed me back, offered congratulatory words of encouragement, and that they’d be there between 4 and 6 p.m.

Then my meeting ran late, and 4 p.m. came and went.  I was so happy to get their phone call when I was only two minutes away.  The guys showed, took the crates, and that was that.  Our house looks almost moved in.  

The customer service with RePax was awesome.  When you crunch the numbers, the crates are cheaper than cardboard boxes.  Additional bonus: there’s no tape.  Your order includes labels for the boxes and a package of zip-ties.  The zip-ties were very helpful in locking up the crates with stuff that Iolani shouldn’t get into (the under the sink stuff) and crates with sensitive or valuable items.

Besides, the important thing when moving is that you shouldn’t accumulate any more things.  Using RePax - our house had no net increase in cardboard! (or tape).  I would say, the only thing missing - a couple of larger crates that act as wardrobe boxes for the closet stuff (and wedding gowns).  But, in my best WonderPets impersonation - Two Thumbs Up!

Next up - The movers!

Finding Obscure DTLA rentals

Any experienced Downtowner will tell you that cragislist, the DCBID housing tours, and Artwalk are the best places to get your foot in the door to the wealth of DTLA properties available.  But, for those of us who have been here for a while, we have to take alternative approaches to finding the next unit.

Why do we move so often?

Simple: the majority of DTLA properties are not under any rent control.  They go up, down, and all around as the rental market goes.  You will get the most expensive rental rates in June, July, and August.  You can thank the out of towners who just want to use our neighborhood for access to golf courses, the beach, the rooftop pool.  You can find something the beginning of September, but by the end of September things are locked down for the next couple of months. (Being close to USC and FIDM doesn't help)

We move often because we are looking for the next deal that keeps us within our budget.  Alex and I are constantly asked why we haven't purchased a condo in DT.  While we say - it's too much, HOA fees are too high, and other worth while excuses...the real reason lurking there is this: we are incredibly busy and I'm not ready to make that kind of commitment.  I mean, I married my husband and we have a baby.  That's my commitment.  :-)

Here's my deep dark secret for finding the next unit: I am raiding the vacation rental listings.  I'm going to attempt to prey on those owners who might be growing tired of turning over their unit after three weeks, three months, or 6 months.  I'm willing to do a 12 or 24 month lease for the right unit.

The starting point:

Roomorama

Rentals.com

HomeAway Vacation

AirBnB

TripAdvisor

Craigslist

Top Secret Tips on reading BIG environmental documents

Every wonder how your neighbor gets through the six-thousand or so page environmental document?  Here’s the secret: more often than not - they are not reading six-thousand pages.  They might not even be reading six pages.  This might be the best kept secret in the world of Homeowner Associations, Neighborhood Councils, and Water Districts.  

Spilling the beans:

• Reading the online version: find a PDF viewer that allows the ability to make marks, bookmarks, and notes
  

• Reading a hardcopy: arm yourself with a highlighter, pen, and post-its
  

• Look for a table of a table of acronyms and abbreviations.  You will find that HRAs, LONPs and NO₂ are not meant to be mysteries.  And, let me just apologize for the entire industry - unfortunately it isn’t our fault there are so many acronyms.
  

• Find a friend to read it with.  Come on...you did book clubs (Maybe you still do?), share a chapter, split the book. 
  

• Flip through the whole document, see what the whole thing looks like.  Take a quick peek at the chapter titles.  You find there are longer chapters, chapters with more graphics, and there are chapters with tables!
  

• Look for the #1 question burning a hole in your pocket and find the answer.  You might find the rest of the document less entertaining if you already figured out the green-speckled summer snail was already identified as a sensitive species.
  

• Before tearing into the Executive Summary - flip through it.  Get a sense for how long it will take to read.  Are we looking at “put the kids in the tub and read a couple of pages” or are we looking at “I have to give up my entire weekend, send the kids off to the grandparents and read this thing”.  Once you know what the document size is - you will know how much of a time commitment you will need to make in order to get this done.
  

• If you can only read one part of the document, make it the one part you are the most worried about or interested in.  If you can’t find what you are looking for, email the project team and ask for assistance.

It is important to note that not everyone gets paid to read these documents, and sometimes I wonder if these documents have become so large because there are too many people out there getting paid to review these documents. 

I’ve read far more of these documents not because I was paid to, but because these are projects I am personally interested and I have to read them in my “off-time”, like for bedtime reading for Iolani. 

But, when I am paid to read these - I tend to follow all the bullet points above and then read the chapters completely out of order.  I read the chapters that interest me the least first to get them out of the way.  But of course - the last thing I do is read through the list of preparers to see if there’s anyone I know.

Sitting There?

I have a great story to tell you.  Now that my dad is on Facebook, he can corroborate the sequence of events.  I was 15, and a water board commissioner.  And, if you know me, you know that (1) I'm short, and 2) until Iolani came around and I stopped getting restful nights of sleep - I looked young for my age.  So, imaging how intimidating it was for me at 15 to have to sit at commission meetings, be up to speed on the agenda, review minutes, and join in the adult conversation as if I was an equal.

The key part of this was "as if I was an equal".

There was one afternoon that we needed to go to the full county commission for a decision my water commission had made the week prior.  I can't remember now if I needed to be there because the item wasn't supported by the county commission, I just knew I had to be there.

In any case, I arrive to the chambers, and was directed to sit at a specific table reserved for people of my stature...the appointed official.  My dad of course  - seated in the audience...with the rest of the community.

In the background, I see one of the older county commissioners enter into the room and take his seat up on the dais.      He looks out, sees me sitting at this table and says into the microphone: "Hey, little girl, why are you sitting there?"


First off, who calls a 15 year old...a little girl? Ask any 15 year old girl today...it would be offensive.

That wasn't my point.  I can look back to all the things in my life and I can tell you right now...that one comment is what sealed the deal for what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I sat in that chair and answered: "I am a water board commissioner and this is my seat"

While I continued to justify why I sat in a particular seat, I can still recall that sharp moment of wondering if I was sitting in the right seat - but ultimately...I knew that I was in the right chair.

So, here's my peace/piece for the day: if someone questions you are sitting at a table you were clearly invited to...you just make it clear - you were invited to participate at this table, and you aren't going anywhere.

I know I keep going back and forth between the past and future of this story...readers of GH&T know that I tend to ramble...but I'll continue to justify this effort....

The car ride home from Shelton to Belfair (Because I didn't get my drivers license until I was nearly 17), I had to vent to my dad.  That whole "Little Girl" statement really burned me at first.  But, over the years I realized that it wasn't the "Little Girl" statement that hurt the most... is was the question of "why are you sitting there", seemingly trying to imply that seat was reserved for someone other than me.

Skip to today... I'm in the public affairs, outreach world.  I'll skip the engineers references today, and tell you this... My job is to not ask the question "why are you sitting there"... My job is to ask the question: "why don't you sit here".

There's not a day that I don't enjoy what I do.  I often feel like I might be one of the few people in the whole world that get to say to others "I am doing exactly what I went to school for"

And, with that...I'm going home to get caught up on the Real Housewives of Orange County.

Begging: Vote For Iolani!

I'm trying hard to keep blogging. If I had to blame it on any social media platform, I would say Twitter is my downfall. I can do these one-offs a couple of times a day, releasing the work/live/play tension - not allowing for any kind of bloggable experience. If you piece all my tweets together, you'll likely see that I spend 1/3 of my day winding myself up tight, 1/3 of the day coming down off the wall, and then 1/3 of complete tweeting silence because I'm busy making dinner. All that said, here's a summary of What's Up!

We entered into a contest hosted by our leasing company.  And, I need you to click "Like" once you've finished watching it.  That is...if you can hold back the tears.



Did you "like" it?  Hopefully we can take home a $1,000 prize and get Iolani a new bedroom set.

If we don't win, she's going to start sleeping on the floor as a sign of protest.  So, help me avoid preschool protesting by clicking "like"

We really need your help.  She has about  50+ likes, but we need to get at least 200 more likes in order to stay competitive.  I know it isn't a great movie, I pieced together snippets of her showing that she's grown up in the building.  Don't click for the technical aspects...click for the sentiment...the warm fuzzy feeling of Iolani screeching "Mine mine mine mine"

What else is new?  Work's busy.  Every year I think to myself "It can't get any more busy"...BAM...I don't remember being so busy before, but also at every phase of one of the projects - it's the first time the project has hit a particular milestone.  It is bound to be busy.  I know you all know what I do, and I don't typically blog about it.  Well, except for that one time I tried to give you all pointers for what to do when giving public comment...and clearly none of you considered it.  I'm >this< close to not giving people any real practical advice about presenting or testifying at public meetings.  I'm not saying I don't get stage fright (because I did one time in 4th Grade), or I don't say stupid things on a live mic (Big hands mean...gets the job done....) >smack head<.  However, I've been talking to the mic since I was 15 (hat tip to Mrs. Lippy), and .... oh hahahhahah  You aren't getting me on a soapbox today!  Sneaky reader....

The indoor composter is working out very well.  It is a NatureMill, and it's awesome.  For one thing, we have a composting machine in the house.  Number 2: it causes me to think about what we are eating in terms of what composter.  The NatureMill needs unseasoned, undairied, and unoiled foods - so we are eating more leafy veggies...more steamed veggies made without sauces.  So, that's yummy.  But also - for some reason, I make less of it because I'm measuring portions.  On one hand, the NautreMill gets our table scraps, and there's less table scraps.  Regardless - it is a nice addition to the house.

It is like having a pet - it needs nurturing, and if you don't maintain  it...there is a smell.  However, with baking soda and appropriate love and care...there's no smell.

And for those who wonder how much love and care it needs...I will tell you this: I don't know of a lot of households that are busier than this one.  Let me tell you how our week went:

Monday: An elected officials briefing and grocery shopping
Tuesday; Work and a community meeting in the afternoon before coming home to make dinner and tub the child
Wednesday: Work and a community meeting in the afternoon and then dinner out
Thursday: a Crazy work day and dinner with Church members
Friday: Date night.  Ah... date night...

If we can maintain a composting machine in our apartment...you can too!  And, that compost will likely help to keep the dog-pee smell down in the tree planters.  (For those just asking "where do you put your compost when the machine is done with it?"

Here's the ending to another blog posting.  I was going to blab about how much fun last night's date night at the Water Grill was, but I'll save that for a Yelp or Urban Spoon entry.

Thanks for reading!  Bye Bye!

Info Graphics!!!

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.