I Goofed

I missed my own two year blogoversary. While I was busy obsessing about Joyce DeWitt the day came and went.


Good thing I'm not married to me.

The bubbly's probably flat by now.

Who Used to Look Like You?

I hope this is the last post unrelated to the house while I procrastinate organizing pictures of the house's progress. Too many house pictures, too much disarray, too little time to organize the house pictures.

In the meantime, here's a picture completely unrelated to the house.

It's a mug shot of Joyce DeWitt who was just arrested on suspicion of DUI.

Back in my early twenties, when Three's Company was at its height and Joyce and I were both a whole lot younger, people often told me how much I resembled her.

This was her then:

Neither she nor I look much like that now. I never thought I looked that much like her then. It surprised me the first time a stranger mentioned it. Joyce wore much more eye makeup than I did. Although, it was around that time that my sister kindly told me that I wore too much eye makeup. Mmm.

During the last four seasons of Three's Company, I used to pal around with a friend who resembled John Ritter, so I guess the two of us together was kind of funny. But we had no one who resembled Suzanne Somers to tag along.

So anyway, the Best Man called me at work today to tell me about the mug shot and to kindly remind me of what I would look like if I were to be popped for DUI. Did he remember that tonight is Margarita Wednesday at Barragans? (I obviously made it home safe and un-incarcerated.)

Why do people always look so startled in their booking photos? I think they tell you not to smile (as if you would: but I think I would try to look a little pleasant and not so wild-eyed, especially if I were a celebrity.

K had a mug shot taken once. It's a long story involving a fix-it ticket. He says he never saw the photo. I couldn't believe he didn't ask to see it, just to see if he didn't need a second take. He said he didn't ask. I bet Joyce wishes she had asked. I bet Mel Gibson and Nick Nolte and all the rest wish they has asked too. I would ask. I asked for a second take at the DMV and I often get compliments on my driver's license photo. It didn't work so much for the passport photo. It still looks bad. But not wild-eyed, at least.

Question: Have you ever been told you look like a celebrity? Do you still look like that person? Or does that person still look like you?

Better question: Have you ever had a mug shot taken?

You Think You Can What?

I finally caught up with my DVR'd So You Think You Can Dance episodes. Tonight we saw this guest performance by Complexions Contemporary Ballet .

If you have any affection for dance and you haven't seen this yet, you must watch (and I dare you to keep your jaw up):

Life, Liberty and . . .

. . . the Pursuit of Happiness

I have an ongoing debate with a friend over whether or not Happiness is the proper subject of a pursuit. I contend it is a uniquely American concept that we should pursue Happiness. Is it possible that thanks to Mr. Jefferson we pursue that which other cultures take to be the collateral byproduct of the achievement of other goals? Is it unique that while the rest of the world is worrying about whether the crops will come in or the rain will come or the British will invade, we Americans are out there pursuing, of all things, Happiness?

In this debate, I argued that as an actor, one plays a character by defining the character’s moment to moment goals in terms of actions. One would not list “happiness” as the goal of any character. Well, one could - but how boring would that be? Happiness is not an action therefore it cannot be played. Only goals can be played; therefore happiness is not a goal to be pursued. Happiness, like good acting, is simply the consequence of good choices.

ModerneMama at The Beach House has tagged me in a challenge to list 6 uninteresting things that make me happy. Does my pursuit of any the following mean that I pursue Happiness?

One – In thinking of the least interesting thing I could think of, I thought “Diet Peach Snapple.” How silly. It’s cool and refreshing and refreshingly tasty, but happiness inducing? Nah. Then I thought, maybe it’s the convenience of just being able to run around the corner and pick up a delicious Diet Peach Snapple at any hour, day or night that makes me happy. So, is it the proximity of a 7-11 that makes me happy? Nah.

Living in the City makes me happy - being close to the things that I need. I’m one walking minute from a convenience store. I’m seven (street, not freeway) driving minutes from The Music Center and Disney Concert Hall and MOCA. I’m 20-ish street driving minutes through moderate traffic from LACMA. I can walk to a city library and to an indie bookstore and to an abundance of antique stores. On weekends I can walk to chilaquiles for breakfast and pizza for lunch and to three or more vegan restaurants for dinner. Before or after dinner, I can walk around the corner to a wine bar.

I would as soon move to Siberia as ever again live in the suburbs. Living in a city makes me happy. Los Angeles has its critics and those who even challenge its status as a real city. LA is not shaped like other cities, but it is still a city.

Two – Staying Up Late. Maybe I’m still rebelling against my childhood bedtime hour (which I’ve since learned was quite liberal in comparison to other families) but I love to stay up late - really late. When I win the lottery there will be travel and charities and all the cliché stuff, but what I most look forward to is never again going to bed before 3 or 4 am. Being up really late when the air is cool, talking and drinking and listening to ‘possums poking around in the yard makes me happy.

Three – Twilight. Not the teen vampire movie but the opposite of late night, the early night time makes me happy. I love the twilight hours when the air is just starting to cool and everything shifts just a little into relax mode. Whatever happened in the day you can put behind you at twilight. Have a drink; sit in the yard; watch the dog walkers parade.

Four – Flowers that Grow in my Yard Without any Help from Me. Every year they come, they go and then they come back again and all without any help from me other than paying the water bill.

Five – The Junk Mail that Flows in Announcing the New Season of Cultural Events.

This Culture Vulture is on mailing lists for organizations far and wide. San Francisco Opera wants me to include them in my next trip to their city. I haven’t been to New Mexico since I was a kid, yet the Santa Fe Opera Company thinks I might pay a visit this year. LA Opera is doing a Barber of Seville this year and I must see a decent Barber of Seville. Near or far, I love seeing what they’re all up to. And I love planning my season. UCLA Performing Arts Series? What delights have you lined up for me this year? Angry, politicized dance theatre? Or edgy, politicized European experimental theatre? Hollywood Bowl? Count me in for Liza Minelli and maybe Pink Martini or even Koyaanisqatsi. Then there’s more 99-seat theatres than I can count or ever possibly attend and I think I'm on the mailing list for all of them.

Six – Pedicures. What could be more uninteresting than cleaning your feet and trimming your toenails? But having someone who does it well is a true indulgence. A fresh pedicure always makes me a small “h” happy.

I now challenge the six bloggers listed below to list six uninteresting things that make them happy. Just link back to me in your post and then tag six others to blog their lists. Just make a list. You don't have to be as blabby as I've been.

Do it. It’ll make you happy to think about the little things that make you happy.


The Conjurer

Just a Girl and Her 1911 Craftsman

Babas Farm Life

Shaker Heights Restoration

Shelter

Heidi Rodeo


And thank you Mr. Jefferson and the other Founders who gave us the right to pursue Happiness.

Here There Be Monsters (Not)

You probably thought I’d fallen off the blogging map. Not exactly.


But I did get a bit out of my habits of blog writing and even my blog reading habit. See, I’ve been tidying up around the house. We’ve actually shown it to people! People being a few close friends. Then after we showed it, we've kind of been living in it. Yep, just living. What a concept. Wah! Wuh!!! How can it be? you say. Wasn’t your house a big, mess of drywall dust and ladders akimbo??? Well yes, it was. Now it’s just a big mess of being lived in. And Friday is our anniversary so it’s not getting tidied up this weekend.

I’ve got to catch up on a lot of blog reading.

Jenni’s been giving ThirteenEleven a break too. But then she broke her silence with exciting news about the source of all that mid-century pink . Good find, Jenni.

I know that NV has been doing a lot of hard work over at her D*mn House. I’ve been cheating, peeking at the pictures of the work on the kitchen cabinets. From what I’ve seen, they look pretty good. But I do need to catch up on the narrative. It’s always one d*mn thing or another over there and I really don’t want to miss any of it.

Jayne at The Kelly House has been busy too, between working and herding cats.

I suppose I could take the Blue Line to Long Beach this weekend and stalk down
LB Tudor at the Long Beach House Restoration Fair.

And I know I owe ModerneMama at The Beach House a list of 6 uninteresting things that make me happy. Happy? That’s a lot to ask for. Not really a trait I’m known for. But I’m going to do it. I promise. Just not this weekend. Maybe next.

In the meantime, as I write this I’m also catching up on a two week old episode of So You Think You Can Dance. I’ve got stuff to catch up on all over the map.

An Appetite for Destruction vs. The Curse of Conscience

I won’t name names but somebody in our house

has been scratching the covering off my water hyacinth ottoman.

I love this ottoman. It has such a pleasing shape -

and the interior provides plenty of useful storage for a book, jammies and a set of colored pencils. It is the ideal height for putting on socks and shoes.

But I cannot abide the ratty, clawed edges and the bits and pieces littering the floor.

I recently found this ottoman at my favorite thrift store -

It seems more elegant but taller and the rounded faux-leather top feels a bit less secure for shoe putting on.

I won’t name names but somebody seems quite comfortable on it

while seeming completely not inclined to scratch at it’s woven surface.

Now here’s my real problem. The old one is still perfectly fine (except for the covering). I mean the construction is solid. So now what do I do with it? Pitch it in the trash? Donate it? It would seem like donating trash.

Someone who sews could make a sweet cover for it. I’d like to see its shape in a nice toile.

But I’m not one to do it and I don’t have room for a second ottoman.

Would it even be worth it? It was $50 from the now defunct Linens & Things. Who would bother with re-covering it?

Someone suggested I put it on Craigslist. Maybe. I can't imagine who would want it in it's current condition.

Descended from a long line of people with furniture crowded houses, I find it hard to let go; hard to toss stuff just because I don’t need it anymore or don’t even want anymore. But to get my house where I want it to be, I’ll have to learn to let go.

So one way or another I’ll have to say good bye; even if it means covering the planet with torn up furniture just because some unnamed somebody couldn’t keep her claws to herself.

L.A. River Flows Through YouTube

Did you know that Coldwell Banker has a channel on YouTube? Interesting enough for those with a house obsession. Not only are there videos about buying and selling homes, but there are also videos about specific neighborhoods and communities.

I looked at it briefly today and found this video about the L.A. River! What a coincidence!