Baja Day 3

Lazy day. Liz up early, goes on a 6 mile run (way to show off). The sweat evaporates off so fast she doesn't come back sweaty. Check plus, desert! Meanwhile, I drink about 4 cups of tea then attempt to juggle the soccer ball with Liz. But here's the thing: I hurt my knee awhile back and it just doesn't seem to heal. Weird, right? Surprisingly (not surprising at all) my leg fails. In denial, I juggle without the leg while Liz looks on disapprovingly. 

We eat a lil something, perhaps one of our million Cliff bars. Liz gets a call from a man known as "Hollywood." He's one of the “younger” guys, you know in his at late 30s/early 40s, who will be by the pool for volleyball from 12 – 2pm. We don't have a car so we get a ride with Lindsey and her friend Rose who asks what we did this AM. Liz tells her she went for a run. Rose endearingly calls her a little shit. Rose is awesome. Lindsey/designated mom drops us off. We're too late to sign up for pool vball but enjoy watching poolside. 

Liz hides her pale white Irish skin under the towel. 

Hollywood (aka the Commander from Power Rangers!) asks if we want to join for a VIP birthday dinner for some guy named Lopez turning 65. It's a four course meal for 20 bucks and it's a first come first serve list of guests. "Sure!" Then he tells us he has a small piece of a "special" tootsie roll. Liz has tried special items before but never liked it. I've tried some special things here and there but never to any effect. It's my superhero power. But when it Rome… So we split a small piece. He tells us if we’re lucky we might feel a buzz. 

Cut to: an hour later it hits Liz. She pretends she’s tired until I sneak a peek at her eyes behind the glasses. Someone's getting silly. 

I take pictures and video. “It gets real” for a hot minute and she’s about 2 mins behind in our conversation, then laughs histerically fearing she'll never stop, is afraid to get up, and suddenly really hungry. I give her a piece of gum. She can’t get over how good it is. We move to avoid nats that showed up (in our minds?). But they follow us, or rather the cheap plastic chairs, we move again. She goes to the bathroom. Upon her return she admits she thought she might get stuck in here – all by herself, with her brain. But then she didn’t want to overthink it so she left. Good call. Then, concerned she asks "How am I going to remember all this? So much has happened." In her defense, she's right. I mean we moved around like 4 times. Who wants to forget about those treasured moments?

We play a short lived game entitled "Hey that was weird, right?" Starring this chick Nicole. 

Liz doesn’t like her because Nicole is drunk and not making much sense. She pretends her name is Colleen & Liz which upsets Liz because "that's clearly not her name. Why would she say that?" She leaves but then returns much to Liz's annoyance and bitch steals my camera, much to my annoyance. 

Notice Liz blocking her face, quietly mumbling "I hate her." 

A delightful level of paranoia follows. Liz checks in with me as people go by saying "hi" or "have a good one." She’s immediately skeptical – "They know. Why else would they say that?" It couldn’t possibly be them being nice.  I get quiet, mesmerized by the vball game. Turn to find Liz watching people enter and exit the pool area because the vball game is "boring." She'd rather try to figure out what the guy in sunglasses and sweater is doing just standing there. You know, like "What's his deal?" I reply, "I dunno, probably here to pick someone up." Liz doesn't accept it as a viable answer. 

This one super positive guy is by the pool cheering on the teams. He’s in his 30s and Liz thinks he’s from San Diego because he talks like the turtle in Finding Nemo. We are far too amused by his reactions. I video some of it, cause that's not weird AT ALL.

I keep thinking about the small piece we had that made us both loopy, Liz more so than me (remember my super powers). Yet, I'm sure we'd die on a whole piece. Liz is glad she never did it in college because it’s ALL she would do. The buzz wears off for me but Liz gets quiet as Hollywood drops us back off to change into regular clothes. Upon not being in bathing suits Hollywood comments how different we look out of swim wear, aged up by like 20 years. Liz isn't sure if that's a good or bad thing. I mention we seem more age appropriate not realizing it could be taken the wrong way (as in, hey we're not too young for you to hit on us!). Liz returns to us, no longer scared to talk and amazed how long her special little journey lasted. We take a sip of amazing (creme de) tequila in a tall blue bottle to celebrate/just cause. It’s delicious, takes like candy, and depending on where you go is either 15 or 40 dollars.

The bday celebration happens at a restaurant off the beaten path, one of those places you find down a dirt road, and make a left after the tree in the middle of the road, then turn into a small hut/driveway on the right. We're told it's the best food in town. They are only open by reservation and 20 people at a time. That night they opened special for us. 

Upon entering you have a clear view into the chef’s kitchen.

Liz and I realize immediately upon joining this birthday dinner bash that it's less of a come and join us and more of a special occasion for friends who all know each other but don't know us. We later recount how they must have been thinking, "who are these assholes?" Would you like to learn how to be an asshole? I bet you would. Come sit a spell and we'll tell you a tale...

A GUIDE TO BEING AN ASSHOLE 

by Liz Riv and Colleen Evs

First of all, get invited to a VIP closed list birthday dinner and without knowing the guy say yes. Bonus points for bumping off any of the man's real friends, which we did. Sorry, Jorge the vball sign up guy, better luck next time!

Next take a primo seat at the table. May I suggest right next to the birthday boy you have never met? Yes, well done.

Then it's BYOB/Liquor so don't bring any, but do get tipsy off the stuff everyone else brought.

What's that, Chef? It's a fixed menu of steak, lamb, or fish? No, I won't be having that. I'm a vegetarian so you'll need to make me something else OFF the special fixed menu, thanks!

Then when others (who may be drunk or high or both) don't want the appetizer of "cold mash potatoes" aka delicious tuna salad, eat their portion with no reservations.

Next, make sure your special off the fixed menu meal comes out first. But don't eat it. This may appear like you are "waiting" for everyone else to get their food before eating but really you want everyone else, who is hungry, to see. Take pictures. This will peak interest, they will want to know what it is.

It's also clutch if your dish is enormous and you don't offer to share. Instead. Eat it ALL.

Unfortunately I was less of an asshole and ordered the fresh fish from the actual menu.

But I did make up for it by taking a picture of one of the owners who didn't want his picture taken. Sorry buddy, I'm an asshole so this IS happening.

Now if someone else, most likely a skinny girl who doesn't complete her meal and only drinks water, doesn't want her dessert, eat it right in front of her and remark how amazing your second helping of it is. YUM! You sure you don't want any? It's delicious.

Thus ends our lesson. Now back to our regular scheduled program....

While at the table we BS with Devan from the pool she’s 21 and her friends are too scared to come visit. She’s an old soul with a great sense of humor. She's joined by her cool down to earth mom Dawnette and her boyfriend Robbie. More on them later. 

Also – San Diego eats with us, but turns out thats not his name and he’s from Oregon. Damn, 0 for 2. The food is so good Liz kinda wishes she was still high - I mean, special. That's vague, right? For all you know they were homemade from a "special" family recipe. Just like grandma used to make. Don't question it. Jedi mind trick! "These are not the droids you're looking for..."

Anyway, turns out Hollywood has a call back in LA so he reluctantly drops of off early. It’s for the best as we are scheduled for an early morning adventure the next day. He gives us the tequila to finish since he can’t drive with an open container. We pretend we could never accept such a - ok fine, we'll take one for the team. He was bummed he couldn’t "party with us" and promises a rain check. We had a great time, but hope he’s not really hitting on us, though we’ll happily accept gifts.

Liz is so full she walks up and down the stairs to the roof to help settle the gallon of veggies in her stomach as I type stuff I hope isn’t too much that I forget it all.

Baja Day 2

3AM wake up with try mouth (too much tequila). Must have water. Fumble around the kitchen, found Agave juice first, drank half of it, saw how much sugar was it in and thought I need to stop drinking sugar. Found the water. 10 mins later I hear Liz get up. She returns. Whispers, “Are you awake?” I respond, “kinda.” She asks for my phone so she can use it as a makeshift flashlight to find water. Turns out when she was up she just putzed around not finding any. We then fumbled together and drank about 1.5 glasses each. Later found out Lindsey did the same thing after us.

Go for a ride in the rail aka adult go cart. Stopping for a drink in a shack in th emiddle of nowhere with a cute dog.

Tecate drank before 10am? Yup. Sure did. 

But I poured some out. For my homies...

Then peed in a shack with no doors and two lopsided holes. Classy. Make sure to wash your hands…. with sand.

We take photos by the rail. Liz climbs on top of it like spiderman. It’s badass.

Continue into the mountains. Parked, had to pee again, popped a squat in the desert. I was by a hole which later reflected was not a great idea. Could have been a home to a critter I would not like to see like spider, snake, or scorpion. Hiked to a water hole. Took artsy pictures of a cactus.

Found a lizard. We slowly approach.

He’s not running away. Hmm. Wait, is he dead? Further inspection. He’s not breathing. His eyes open.

Liz jumps back. We expect him to run away. Nope. Oh, he’s just chillin. Or maybe he's high? Later we wonder if he’ll retell the story to his lizard friends – "Dude, I saw a bunch of humans today. Up close."

More beer. Ate my leftover tacos (battered and flour tortilla I didn’t ask for but was too buzzed to notice til halfway done). A spread was put out on the roof of a rail: crackers, nuts, cheese, chips, homemade cookies AND homemade pickled pickles. Stop it! OK, fine. I'll have a little of each. Don't wanna be rude...

We take badass pictures looking like thugs. You can’t see my face but I’m NOT smiling.

Managed to nap in the rail despite the loud roar of the engine. We stop again. Another beer. Marvel at the road indicator of a cow carcass.

The original one fell apart so they got another one (you know, like you do) and leaned it against it. It was so fresh it looked fake but upon further inspection it was legit. PS - Smelled great.

Someone gets a flat tire. The boys all help lift the car, while the women stand around and take pictures. Another beer? Sure, why not. Not like we’re driving or anything.

Get back to the house. Liz and I think we look tan, then realize it's just a layer of dust. Three days without a shower so my hair was aReal nasty, matted even. Occasionally felt it while putting on and off the goggles needed for going on a “run” in the rail – and I immediately thought this is what some dirty hippie feels everyday. So close to dreads. The wind wasn’t helping. Get back and shower while the 70 year olds keep drinking. I used shampoo and conditioner (Panteen ProV -  none of that generic bizz) but still felt like I tore up my hair trying to brush it out. Liz and I both continued to find sand in our unmentionables. 

I finish my shower and go to find liz. I’m told she’s on the roof. I head up. I spy her laying out, hand out clutching a mug of water. I call out. No response. Probs didn’t hear me. I get closer. Her shirt it up in an attempt to tan her Irish stomach, a hat on her head. Legs crossed. “Liz.” Nope. She fell asleep. I immediately go get my camera as she is notorious for hating naps. Evidence is needed. I take pictures like it’s a crime scene.

Then figure, why not just recreate me discovering her. I do so with my camera that takes video. She wakes, is totally busted, and calls me an asshole.

Later on I do jumping jacks, you know, to burn the calories from all the booze. Twenty should do the trick, right? Liz comes up saying she and Lindsay can hear me bouncing around through the roof. Sorry for party rockin’. It's twilight time. Liz spots her second shooting star in her life. Turns out I was also there for her first.  What can I say, when I’m in her life, she sees stars. Awwww!

Alone, I finish up with yoga under the stars. Then lounge on the hammock in search of my own star.

Baja Day 1

I recently ran away to Mexico again. Baja Mexico, not the main land part that immediately makes anyone over 30 say, "it's not safe/be careful you could get kidnapped." Don't worry, this time I brought a friend (twice as hard to get kidnapped). 

My BFF Liz came to LA on a one way ticket so we could have adventures in Mexico. This is part of our tale... 

CAST LIST:

2nd time around American - Colleen

1st time in Baja - Liz

2nd cousin who is 71 - Joe aka Baja Joe

2nd cousin's British wife - Lindsey

DAY 1

Wake up at 6:35am to leave the apartment around 7:15am. Used hand drawn map and discovered the short cut road was closed. Then drove down a dirt road with a lagoon running along side it. Constantly wondering, is this a road? We get to a road closed sign. I make a pretty difficult U-turn.

We find concrete again and the smallest freest parking for your car there err was. Thanks El Centro Airport! 

Go to Costco, buy a million Cliff bars. Thanks, bulk! Pee stop. Go to another Costco, this time in Mexico – get a GIANT berry sundae for 2 bucks. There was some debate about who was getting the chocolate (liz), the swirl of vanilla and chocolate (me), and just classic vanilla (Lindsey). Joe makes jokes in Spanglish that Liz and I are his moms. The clerk laughs, but it's mostly out of confusion. 

Arrive by 3pm, go directly to happy hour, do not unpack or stop at the house. But don’t worry "We’re only staying for an hour."

We’re early but there’s a bday celebration happening for (according to the sign) Paul. He’s turning 80 but according to our new/drunk friend Shelly you’d never know it. Liz then tells others about Paul, prompting them to ask if she knows him. "Nope." Turns out Paul has quite a spread of food happening. It's in our eye line, what are we supposed to do? NOT stare at it longingly?

More people show up. We keep drinking. Another pitcher of margaritas is served, or is this the third one? Liz is tired and easily drunk. I’m right behind her. Chewy is sleeping under the table waiting for us to take him home – like the sober DD who is over it. An hour in we already extend our stay another Day to attend Boots’ party. We HAVE to go. Will you be there? OK, Sure. Twist my arm.

We spot Shelly off to the side smoking a cigar. We decide to go over and tell her that’s awesome. We meet her friend Kathy.

We decide to make friends with Paul so we can eat his food. He’s awesome and you would never know he’s turning 80! We’re young and he doesn’t want to let go from shaking our hands. His daughter, the party organizer, is there. She’s a little less awesome. Probs cause she’s not drunk and totally onto our food stealing plan. Proceed to go to town on crackers, cheese, and carrots. Best not forget about the pickles.

People notice my Betty White shirt that looks a lil sometin like a dis:

We talk about how awesome she is. All of us want to be her when we grow up. Square dancing starts to happen. Liz and I join and do a piss poor job at it but the drunk lady with us thinks we picked it up fast. Shenia Twain gets it going, we sing/dance about the best thing about being a woman. Circle is formed, we all take turns busting a move. Including Shelly. AND Kathy. Liz comments we are the youngest and drunkest there. 

Liz and I spy Paul's birthday cake in the fridge. Paul, what’s going on? Why are we not eating that right now!? Happy Birthday is sung, we linger and get HUGE pieces of cake. Vanilla and chocolate with cream in the middle, strawberries on top. Ice cream for lunch. Cake for dinner. Drunk by 4pm. Welcome to Baja! Sorry, body.

We start taking pictures, they are blurry. The perfect representation of what’s happening in our brains. No reservations, we spot a quad parked out front. I tell Liz to get on it. She goes.

And here's the one where she’s telling a bystander, don’t worry this is definitely my ride.

We leave happy hour by 8pm. Somehow we managed to drink 5 pitchers. Sharing IS caring. We meet Cody. He actually owns a quad. He’ll be here this week. We plan to see him later. ((Spoiler alert: We don't)). We’re told downtown is crazy and no one leaves their house. Liz and I plan to leave and join the insanity of it all.

We get in the car and dance to 70s super hits. What's that? The photo is blurry? Weird. We drop off our stuff at the house and Chewy finally gets fed/released from the drunk people. We aren’t hungry but should probs get real dinner, right? Ok Mexican it is! Liz realizes her glasses are missing. We go back. No dice. She dumps out her bag. No dice. Well, they’ll turn up. She rocks her prescription sunglasses – at night. Hardcore.

We arrive at Andres. I eat the free chips I told myself I wasn’t going to eat. Damn you, Tequila! Joe orders margaritas for the whole table.

They are STRONG. None of us finish them. We stuff our drunk bocas (spanish for mouths) in silence. Liz and I take turns mumbling, "OMG I’m so drunk." I get my fish tacos to go. Ordered without beer batter and on corn tortillas but that didn’t happen. Liz then asks the server, Max, "Como se dice 'Hammered' en espanol?" He’s not sure what hammered means, she motions drinking a lot and stumbling. He goes, "Oh – Borracho." "Si! Muy borracho! (make that borracha, for the ladies) Gracias!"

Time for bed. Liz falls face first onto the pull out bed. She doesn’t move after that.

Sorry teeth, tonight you will not be brushed.

I know it's been FOREVs. I do this to you and I apologize. Life has been a crazy fun whirlwind. Though my job was technically over right before Christmas 2011, my bosses are seriously awesome and asked me to write/produce a recap of the show. So I put my nose to the grindstone. Three weeks later THIS was born.

You may recognize the voice as mine. We're trying to make that ish go viral so use that social media and tell all yo friends. Then maybe the show will come back for another season and I'll have a job to go back to.

Recently I signed with a literary agent. Yeah that's right, I'm fancy now. I have "people." They asked me to write up a bio. Usually I hate to write any type of self gloating propaganda but somehow I managed. It's for their internal use, but I figured I'd share with you lovely people some of the top secret insider info that will be circulating H-wood... all about ME!

Colleen Evanson grew up on an exotic island known for its accents - Long Island. In high school she was chosen to represent her school by performing an original monologue on the Broadways stages of Rent. She attended Ithaca College's Park School of Communications studying TV production where she was heavily involved in the student run television station creating/producing a mock entertainment news show by sophomore year. Her junior and senior year she produced an hour long documentary entitled Strongest Ever (about the strongest woman in the world). The trailer was chosen as Best of Student Work in 2006 and the 60 min version won audience awards at film festivals and sold to Electric Sky who aired it throughout Europe. Clips also aired on an E! Entertainment special about bodybuilding. While studying in LA she interned at The West Wing in producer Michael Hissrich's office and then the Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip pilot with producer Mindy Kanaski, where she was later hired to run base camp/stalk Matthew Perry.

Realizing production life wasn’t the bee’s knees, she got an office job working assisting independent producer Matt Baer with feature development. When the strike hit she took a strike proof job at Blue Collar Productions, a DVD/Special Features production company run by former Dreamworks employee Mark Rowen. Within six months of assisting him she was producing TV spots for the DVD Campaigns for Kung Fu Panda, Madagascar 2, and Monsters vs Aliens. After 2.5 years she jumped back to TV assisting the lovely Paul Stupin and Holly Sorensen on ABC Family's Make It Or Break It where she is currently the writer's assistant, typin’ out notes like no other. Despite having more work experience in the drama world, her heart truly belongs to comedy. She was in an improv troupe in college, and has taken several classes through the Upright Citizen's Brigade Theatre including: Improv 101 and Sketch Writing 101. Other interests include: soccer, kung fu, not wearing heels, becoming a Jedi Knight, and befriending Betty White.

Can I stop talking in third person now? OK, great.

Do you have a sudden urge to staff me as a writer on your television show? I hope so.

Like so many others with hopes of finding a diamond in the rough have done, I too signed myself up for Groupons. If you are unfamiliar with the term, you probably don't use a computer a lot or check your email every day. That being said, it's a coupon deal that gets sent to a group of people. Basically it sends me deals every day aka gets my hopes up when my email says I have new messages in the AM and turns out it's just from an email chain...

Every week I think of unsubscribing until I have get a deal that makes me think of buying it. Like 60% off cupcakes. I mean yes, I'd like to eat cupcakes, who doesn't? Do I really want to eat a dozen cupcakes? I know I'm capable BUT I'm also very capable of getting diabetes. And even with 60% off, that's still like 20 bucks, I can just spend 3 bucks for one and not feel like a huge fatty. So no, Groupon, I'll pass.

Then there are other times I get deals that are so ridiculous I had no idea such things existed. Today for example, I got a Groupon for:


The screen grab is a bit fuzzy but it's for some white suburban we have too much money BS thing called: Stroller Strides. It reads:

"Having a baby often limits parents' ability to take part in the hobbies they once loved, such as working out or sleeping in empty bassinets. Set aside some you time with today's Groupon: for $35, you get one month of unlimited mom-and-baby fitness classes and waived registration fees."

Instead of paying $125 to do lunges on your baby's stroller, you only pay $35! What a steal! Like any good infomercial that comes on at 2am and tempts me (Magic Bullet), I think maybe I'll buy it and show up expecting them to supply me with a baby.

Don't forget to stretch...

I recently decided that if I happen upon a magic lamp at any point in my life (hopefully the near future) and rubbed it to discover much like Aladdin (my all time fave Disney movie) that there was a genie inside who granted me three wishes, my answer would be:

1. I wish to become a Jedi, including power, robes, and REAL lightsaber - none of that Spencer's Gift stuff that runs you a 100 bucks.

2. I wish you to be free - I've seen enough stories about magic lamps to know they want to be free and will be so grateful for the freedom and in turn slip me more wishes done as more of a favor. After all they are indebted to me. Either that or freeing them gives me a crazy high amount of Good Karma points, which are always good to have.

3. Nothing else.

I'm assuming once I'm a Jedi I'd look a little something like this:

Currently I'm working on a Television Studio lot in Studio City known as "CBS Radford." This is amazing for several reasons.

1. I am working again.
2. It's 2 miles from my apartment so I bike to work.
3. It's also where they shoot "Hot in Cleveland" starring Betty White.

That's right people. Now, I don't watch the show because I tried once and it sucked except for when Betty White was on, but even then she didn't have much to work with. However, they shoot the show every Friday night according to the security guys. It is my plan in the next few weeks to befriend Betty.

How will I do this, you ask? It's simple. First I will find where they shoot: CHECK. Then I'll find her dressing room: DONE AND DONE. Then I'll have one of my friends "mug" Betty and I'll show up and save her:

Me: "Hey You! Quit man handling Betty White!"
Insert awkward karate chop, the "mugger" falls to the floor.

Betty: "OMG. thank you so much!"
Me: "For being a friend?"
Betty: "Traveling down the road AND back again."
Me: "My heart is true. I'm a pal and a confidant."

Then we high five jump into a freeze frame.
End Credits

I don't see how this plan could go wrong.

Dear Mother Nature,

I know it's been awhile since I last wrote and as much as I don't want this to sound passive aggressive - could you maybe stop letting whatever blooms from like 10pm til midnight in the general LA area bloom? I know it's kinda vague but whatever it is that started to bloom like 2 weeks ago is killing me. I literally cannot breath at that time of night and it's not just outside my apartment, it spans all over from east LA to the west side.

You know I love you, I mean, I ride my bike to work. AND I take the trash out of the Green Bin that even states on it that it's NOT a trash can but my neighbors just can't seem to grasp that concept. So could you do me a solid? I'd really appreciate it, especially since I have to rely on this nasal spray in order to breathe at night and who knows what chemicals in there will give me cancer down the road. Because it claims it's "no drip" but let's be honest, there is some drip and the taste is not great. That might be TMI for you but I just want you to be aware of the gravity of the situation.

In summary, I like you but this is just too much right now.

Love,
Colleen

PS - Did you watch the Breaking Bad finale?! We gotta talk about it.

It was a delightful lazy Sunday. Colleen was enjoying the last day of her first weekend in many many months. She took the time to relax around her apartment which occupied far too much of her time while unemployed. But on this day, she breathed in and was troubled not by what she'd do in the coming months of her life, for she had a job. A job, I say.

But hark? What's this?
SQUEAK. SQUEAK. HONK. HONK-ITY-SUCK-SCREECH!

The horrid sounds of a saxophone at an amateur's hand. Intially she imagined a child trying as he might to get the sheet music just right for his lesson in school come Monday morning. The thought had an air of nostalgia that made this noise crime forgivable.

Yet some two hours later she began to imagine a different scene. One in which she called out, "Hey, Neighbor kid!" ANd the screeching would stop. A little boy would point to himself as if to say, "me?"

She'd then reply, "Yeah, you."
He bounds over to the window. The boy would eagerly await the message. Perhaps a word of encouragement..?!

"YOU SUCK!" Colleen shouts in such a way it feels cathartic. Man that felt good to get out.

The boy would hang his head in shame. And in that moment Colleen would enjoy the peace once more of her first true lazy Sunday.
And it was glorious.

So, um...

... Why?

This weekend is kind of a big deal for me. As some may have heard, the TV show I work on is finally coming back - after a 7.5 month hiatus. And I have a new position this season. (I went from showrunner assistant to writer assistant: BOO-YA).

Today I realized that this will be my first REAL weekend since I start work on Monday. Not that I really slept in too late and I didn't today because I had a Kung Fu lesson at 8am. Yeah, you heard me. Though at this point, I doubt anyone is surprised. This is what happens when I read a book in the park. Some Shifu (aka Kung Fu master) comes up and asks if I want to learn Kung Fu.

Shrug. "Yeah, ok."
Best part is, his name is Mr. Smith, like Agent Smith from The Matrix where Keanu famously realizes, "Woah. I know Kung Fu."

Moving on - Now I'm very happy to be back to work, I miss the feeling of doing things and not watching Hulu in the middle of the day. Sidenote: I would often judge the productivity of my days by the amount of things I watched online. But let's be honest, plenty of working people do that anyway.

But this last week was tricky. I needed to get done all the things I SAID I'd do and WANTED to do but never did in my one-million days off. Like skydiving or using that massage coupon I found or going to Ireland. Damn! So now it's boiled down to mostly errands. And when else will I have the chance to grocery shop in the afternoon? (Isn't my life super exciting?!) Yet on the other hand it's my LAST free Friday. I should relax, drink wine, try that free sample of cheese from Whole Foods (I wasn't kidding about the grocery store).

I have a feeling that come Sunday night I will have a hard time going to sleep. Mostly out of excitement but also out of knowing that when I wake up on Monday, things won't be the same. Ever again.

That is... IF I wake up...

FADE TO BLACK

"TO BE CONTINUED..."

Last weekend my roomie-bestie Merry and I went on a hike. Once upon a time when I first moved to LA I was a part of a group that went every Sunday. It was sort of networky-ish in that everyone who was in the group worked in the entertainment industry. There was a core 4-5 of us who went all the time and then we got lazy and I started to go to Farmers Markets instead. We also expanded the group and here and there people would show up who were kind of annoying and messed up our conversation flow we were used to effortlessly having. I know that sounds kind of mean but it's true. Truth hurts, people!

So when Merry told me about people she knew starting up another hiking group I was down to get my hike on once again. The one slight hiccup is that sometimes these "others" will party late and be hung over so come Sunday the 9am hike becomes more like 10:30am or 11am. There's also a geography issue since most of them don't live with Merry and I in the valley. "Let me get this straight, I have DRIVE to Santa Monica? Ugh, it's so far..."

Whining aside, sometimes Merry and I employ the KISS system (Keep It Simple Stupid) and just do a hike that is about 3 miles away from our apartment. This is exactly what we did last Sunday.

So we roll up, I got my camelback, she's got her bottle of water. We set off to concur Fryman. Last time the two of us were there we decided to make it interesting and count the number of people we lapped while hiking - totally unbeknownst to them. Negative points if you yourself get lapped. The beginning of the hike is mostly uphill so it's a tough start. Regardless, last trip we SMOKED 22 suckers!

This time we were determined to beat the record. So we set off at a brisk pace. Mostly everyone is heading downhill so they are passing us on the opposite side - doesn't effect our score but annoying when they are running down a hill and you are walking up a hill, breathing heavy.

Finally we spot our first couple of people to pass. We speed up a bit in the anticipation. And there's an easy first 2 on the board. We pass another couple. 4: booyah! Then there's a fat dude who was faster than anticipated, he's probably trying to get back in shape so good for him but we're still going to kick his ass. And we're at 5.

But it's then, behind us, I hear some clanking, like a water bottle on a keyring. I glance behind. There's some skinny chick, around 30, in a DRESS of all things, coming up the rear. Immediately I turn to Merry and say, "We are not going to be passed by some chick in a dress." She concurs. We take it up a notch to keep our lead. But she's keeping up, even getting closer. WTF?!

Then she stops to fix her hair. We keep going. Talking some smack along the lines of, "Yeah that's right." and "Not in my house!" Merry and I settle into a nice pace. We chit chat here and there, pass more people. We get up to around 12 or so when --

CLANK, CLANK. I hear it again. I took behind me and NO WAY. Here she comes again. We speed up. We're going pretty fast now, like Mall Walker speed. We're heading downhill for a patch and there's come confusion as people pass us going the other way as we pass people going our way to add to our total. It's here she strikes.

Freaking Dress PASSES US. As she does I have a full view of her exposed back and can't help but notice she's not even wearing a bra. This is unacceptable to me. I'm NOT going to be out hike-walked by some skinny ho who can't be bothered to wear any appropriate hiking attire.

Merry and I pick up our pace but we can't seem to catch her. We blame the fact that she's so damn skinny, her lack of body fat is making her aerodynamic. For sure, that's DEFINITELY what it is. And a clear violation of our made up rules. We take comfort that if put in a cage match, we'd kick her ass fo' sho.

As she gets farther away we grumble less and eventually let it go. But the cut is fresh and we sure as hell won't let anyone else pass us. We're booking now. We reach 22 in record time. Still with some hike left we haul ass and at times are full on speed walking, sweating like crazy and out of breath - so much for a nice casual hike.

We get to the end of the dirt trail and pass our last person bringing the count up to 30. We decide to just head back to the car instead of doing another part of the hike, partly because we're tired from doing 3 mile hike in what felt like 20 mins.

The rest of the hike is all downhill through a residential neighborhood. We pass 7 more people when we spot her. Freaking Dress. There she is, in our sights. We just broke our record but this would be the icing on the cake.

We try for it. We get about 50 yards but she disappears again around a corner. So instead we fantasize about throwing a rock at her which hits her in the head, thus causing her to face plant onto the concrete street. As we pass we make a mocking frowny face and say "Ough" as in "Aw that must hurt.." We don't offer help and we add her to our pass tally.

It's here I'd like to state we are not mean people in general. We are quite delightful. What can I say, competition fuels us. In a way, Dress was a great motivator for us that day. But we'd never admit that. I mean, after all, she is now our sworn enemy... arch nemesis, even.

Last month one of my best friends from New York moved to LA. Naturally we decided to move in together. In this move I gained a third roommate of her chihuahua-pug mix of a dog named Rufus.


He's adorable in his own quirky way; notice the under bite. It should be known, I have no beef with dogs. In fact, I grew up around them; from mutts to goldens.

Now my human roommate, Merry, is a teacher (much like 80% of my high school friends) and gets up early. She's out of the apartment by 7:15am-ish everyday. And myself, being the still unemployed person I am, gets up later, though I make sure to be out of bed by 9am to maintain some shred of self respect... even if I don't bother to get dressed til noon.

In the morning Merry let's Rufus out in our back patio area to do his business. Recently, I noticed that around noon he'd want to go out again. Being home I didn't mind. But knowing that at some point I won't be around to let him out in the middle of the day I asked Merry if Rufus would be ok. She said he acclimates to our schedules and would be fine. She's had him for five years and he's never once made a mess inside. I mostly felt bad that he'd have to hold going to the bathroom for like four hours. I've been on car rides where I've held it for an hour and thought I would explode.

Two days after having this conversation it was Rufus' fifth birthday. Merry got up as per usual before me and left. I woke up around 8:30am and headed downstairs into the living room area like I usually do. Only that day, Rufus decided to celebrate by decorating the living room...

... with his poop.

Yes, ladies and gentleman, for the second time I have had the honor of dealing with my roommates pet pooping in my space and having the privilege of cleaning it up. Thankfully the living room has hardwood floors. But it did bring flashbacks to my old roommate's cat Onyx pooping in my bathtub. Awesome.

To me, the best part is, he went out around 7am, and then couldn't wait til I came down around 9am to let him out again? Merry thinks he did it out of spite because she forgot to wish him a happy birthday. And if that's the case, can you really blame him?

Recently I moved and when I did I left a fully furnished apartment. After getting a bed frame off craigslist, the air mattress I was using didn't exactly hold the air like I'd like it to. And it's kind of weird to sleep in the pull out bed downstairs for the long term. As such it was time for me, at the noble age of 27, to pony up and buy a big girl bed. Naturally I looked up places on Yelp and found a few not far from me.

There were a ton of places along this one strip. One place in particular was advertising that they were going out of business. Being the cheapskate I am, of course I went here. The best part was the signs placed everywhere on all the merchandise. Please observe:

Wait, I'm confused. This mattress is NOT 50% off? Do I have to double the price listed or cut it in half? This is too much math! Now I know you are going out of business so good job on that part of the ticket but why is there a "NOT" pre printed? And NOT (get it?) to tell you your business but just because you are going out of business doesn't mean you shouldn't still try. Get some white out on that ish!

But it doesn't end there. You see there were plenty of others to choose from. This one seemed like it could work but upon reading the sign I had to check if it was opposite day. It wasn't.

Let's be honest, I really don't want to be dealing with an angry/mean mattress. It's just not worth the savings. Yet I believe this one was my favorite because it doesn't work either way.

You: "Nice mattress."
Me: Thanks, I got the "yikes" special. And at 238, it was a steal!

Last week I babysat for a friend who has 2 young kids. I really don't know how people do it. It was exhausting. All I did was play ref and keep them distracted from getting into a fight with each other over who could play with the toy truck and/or convincing one to not get mad at the other for looking at them.

Oy.

They are super adorable though so all is forgiven when they play nice. The five year old little boy asked me the following three questions throughout the 5 hours I was there.

1. "Are you pregnant?"
He thought my stomach stuck out a bit and couldn't understand why. It's called being a woman. And also fro-yo. Hey, I'm only human after all.

2. "Can you take a bath with me?"
Whatever gets him in the tub... I didn't actually join him, but I did get pretty soaked to where I might as well have. Especially when he wanted to fill the tub to the brim - you know, like a fountain.

3. "Can you sleep over?"
This is the second time he's asked me to do so. What can I say? I'm charming and in demand. His mom did mention that usually all these questions go in the reverse order. I tend to agree.

Yesterday I took my roommate's dog for a walk in the mid morning. As I headed back to my new apartment Rufus (a pug) and I passed an older black gentleman who casually comments to me:

"You got a nice figure."

I scrunched my face up in a confused and yet amused smile. Why is it always the older men who feel the need to tell me these things? And how stereotypical of him as a black man. You can be President now! Keep that ish to yourself.

Also - thanks, I've been working out.