Reviews of the Last 5 Books I've Read

What is the What –

Three thumbs up. Well done, Dave Eggers. You might be only marginally older than me, and I may be only marginally jealous of your talent, but I cannot wait to read on. You are a gifted writer and continue to amaze me by tackling a complex, foreign, and tragic subject with ease and ingenuity. I hope you tell me what the what is. I bought your book in hardcover. You owe me!

The Reprieve –

John Paul Satre - you may have invented existentialism (or not! It already existed, eh smartypants? Got you there.) But let's face it John Paul. You ripped off the stream of consciousness thing from James Joyce. I don't care if you never read Joyce, never spoke English, or maybe Joyce wrote his works after you (I can't be bothered to sort out these petty historical details, JP), regardless I've seen this before! And while I understand that when you write about nothing and there's no narrative and things just sort of float around that you're showing the inter connectedness of mankind, the collective consciousness, and that nothing is really everything, it wouldn't kill you to be a little more original.

At least Joyce knows not to throw in punctuation marks. That's innovative.

(95% of )Anna Karina –

Look Anna Karina. It's been 6 years, 756 pages, and who knows how many airplane trips as my travel companion where the only options are either die of boredom or force myself to read you. And as a critic I must say…too many subplots. And all those peasants! They're so…bourgeoisie. And really…five thousand characters and only one love affair? You call that exciting? We're over. That's right. I don't care what happens in the last 70 pages. I'm giving up and I'm fine with that. You've died Anna Karina. And now you're dead to me.

The Sirens of Titan –

Kurt Vonnegut, I applaud you for making the crazies in your head seem not so crazy after all. Your visions of the future are scarily accurate and I'm starting to believe you when you say you've been to heaven and back and that you can see the future. If you tell me what happens to me on June 31, 2015 then I'd really believe you. Wait wait wait! Don't tell me. Just kidding KV, forget I asked. That was the old me. I don't want to know. I don't mess with the future. If, in the future, I ask you that again, have your more future self send my less future self a message so that we can avoid certain disaster. Thanks.

Make Love the Bruce Campbell Way –

Bruce, you are the man. I never knew that I had so much to learn and you had so much to offer. You'll call me, right? Dinner sometime? Or lunch? Brunch? Coffee? Tea? Wow, I guess you are really busy. Could we bump into each other on a Slurpee run then spend a few minutes "catching up" in the bathroom of 7-11? It's a date.

Cribs: Cambria - Day 2

With an 11:40a.m. reservation for a tour of Hearst Castle, sleeping in was not an option and neither was starting the tour with an empty stomach.

We strolled down to a small French cafe for un petit dejeuner. Elizabeth went with the delectable blueberry coffee cake and a small latte. My first choice was a cinnamon roll, but when I heard the cook exclaim that more ham & cheese croissants were coming right out of the oven, I ordered one of them promptly with a mocha latte to drink. I'll come right out an say it, that there ham & cheese croissant was one of the best danged ham & cheese croissants I've ever tasted, and I've had ham & cheese croissants on several continents and a few scattered island nations.

After a satisfying breakfast and a caffeine boost, it was off to W.R. Hearst's little bungalow in the hills of San Simeon. I'd love to see an episode of MTV Cribs on this place. Wow! Not only was this modern day castle extremely immense, this cat filled out this space with some seriously classy shit. Dude had tapestries, statues, paintings, furniture, and ceilings, yes, ceilings imported from the finest homes in all the lands of Europe, Asia, Middle East, & Africa. W.R. had taste out the ying yang. As you can see in the pictures, the place was built to be the cream of the crop; it was in its day and I'm sure other present day domiciles in the union would still be hard pressed to best it. The tour option we chose only showed off a small portion of the estate, but to say that I was impressed would be an understatement. The Hearst family gained not only my $20 entrance fee, but my utmost respect for putting together such an impressive architectural and cultural sight. I would like to return in the future for additional access to other parts of the Castle.

With the end of our tour so too came an end to our weekend excursion. Down the 101 back towards home we went. And what meal would one cap off this weekend of visual and edible delights? Why a double-double with cheese at ye old In-N-Out Burger with a shake and fries of course!!

--M

Cribs: Cambria - Day 1

"I've been itching to get out of the city..."

Ah three day weekends. Both a blessing and a curse. On one hand you have the additional 24 hours of relaxation, but on the other you have an extra day to get used to not working, so when you do go back to work on Tuesday, it's like worse than a Monday, man.

So why not turn the long weekend into a short vacation? Elizabeth and I did just that. President's day snuck up on us like a gypsy youth pilfering gelatos in a piazza, so there was no way we could afford a flight somewhere without selling a vital organ. A friend had told me Hearst Castle is cool place to visit, and it was only a little over three hours up the coast in Cambria. There's wine to drink, lots of food to eat, and vistas to behold; a feast for the senses to be sure. After 4 years of life in Los Angeles, I have to say the greatest thing about living in the city is getting out.

Last month was a trip up to Big Bear Lake for some action on the slopes. A quaint mountain town that upon arrival was as if we'd entered Switzerland and it was only 2 hours away! They even had schnitzel!!

Cambria was even more splendiferous. We tried to book a B&B, but they were all booked solid for the busy holiday weekend. We really lucked out scoring a room at the Creekside Inn, which was about a minute walk from the hustle and bustle of Main Street, heck it was even on Main Street. Arriving around lunch time we wanted to get oysters at this restaurant that overlooked the ocean, but it too was packed with visitors; wait time 50+ mins. We doubled back to this little cafe whose sign simply read, "cheese, wine & lunch". It had us a cheese. Plus, the soup du jour was lobster bisque. "Table for two please..." And it only got better, sweet potato fries, hot damn! I ordered the bisque, a turkey, brie, apple, & onion jam sandwich on focaccia, and a glass of savignon blanc. Elizabeth settled on the grilled eggplant & mozzarella sandwich on ciabatta with those irresistible sweet potato fries, and a glass of pinot noir (passing through Santa Barbara aka. 'Sideways' country must have inspired her). Compelling and rich.

After lunch, we perused the local shops, which offered everything from antiquities to satanic rubber duckies. First we ending up making a purchase at the local chocolateer. Next stop, a wine shop called, Fermentations, where we sampled wines for $5 each. They even threw in the glasses as souvenirs. We bought a few bottles for the homestead. Shopping + over indulgence = nap time.

After lunch comes, dinner. And dinner was an even greater spectacle in gluttony. Still determined to get some oysters, we picked a restaurant that offered a good variety of surf and turf as well as good word of mouth. At Old Stone Station, they were out of oysters for the day, but golly did they make up for it. For the appetizer, we shared two massive crab cakes, followed by salad. Then Elizabeth had swordfish grilled cajun style. And I went all in on the lobster tail. Both main courses were offered with sides of broccoli and a choice of rice or garlic mashed potatoes, being as how this was Cambria and not red China, we both went for the mashed taters; a heaping amount was received. Of course we had to wash it down with more than just tap water, a bottle cabernet savignon for good measure. After an entire day of basically just pigging out, a sensible person would probably have stopped there, but Elizabeth & I are nothing of the sort. When I hear coconut laced desert, I simply cannot refuse so, coconut cream pie was the piece de resistance for the evening. The Sandman cometh. To be concluded...

Why I Think Coachella Sucks

That's right I said it. Coachella sucks. My first exposure to the music festival was soon after moving to the Los Angeles area. A co-worker told me about how he was left stranded at a Denny's because his ride ditched him. That was in 2003.

The following year, Radiohead headlined Day 1 so, naturally I had to attend. What I experienced in the desert was unbearable heat, long lines, and no cell reception. I think I maybe saw 4 bands play that day, including Radiohead. Too may bands that I wanted to see overlapped, and when I did make it to the stage/tent where they were playing, there were too many people, thus making it near impossible to enjoy the experience. I even had to miss Radiohead's set closing Bends-era epic "Planet Telex" just so I could avoid traffic. That was in 2004.

I have not been to Coachella since.

Frankly I just prefer seeing bands play their own headlining shows as opposed to the opportunity of seeing many bands in the festival atmosphere. To me it just makes more sense and it is less of an ordeal. Who the hell wants to book a hotel room just to see a concert?

But there is another downside of Coachella that has nothing to do with attending the event. The festival's organizer, GoldenVoice, stipulates in their contracts that the bands participating in the festival are not allowed to play any shows in the Greater Los Angeles area near the dates it occurs. So when Arcade Fire, who this week is playing a 5-night stand in New York City, announced more dates for their North American tour in support of "Neon Bible," I noticed two things:

1.) There were only two southern California dates listed 4/26 (a Thursday) in San Diego & 4/28 (Saturday) at Coachella.

2.) There were 3 more NYC dates scheduled for May (location TBA).

Now, if you're paying attention that is 8 total shows for the Big Apple and 1 show for L.A. that isn't even in L.A. I'm no mathematician, but I'm pretty sure that is an uneven allotment between two of the U.S.'s largest cities. Based on the evidence at hand, my powers of deduction would lead me to believe that the culprit is none other than the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival.

I hold out hope that shortly before or soon after the blight that is the Coachella festival, Arcade Fire will announce more L.A. area shows, but until that happens my judgement remains steadfast and unwavering. That, my dear reader, is why I think Coachella sucks. Now you may disagree with me, but you'd be wrong.

--M

The Grove - a Survival Guide

The Grove – A Survival Guide

It used to be that whenever I felt the need to be surrounded by a kazzilion people in a surrealistic setting, I’d head on over to the grove for some good old fashioned escapism. However, experiencing the Grove on a daily basis has changed my perspective. Now that the Grove is unavoidable, it’s unbearable.

The obstacles -

* the Farmer’s market.
Under no circumstances is this ever a faster route. The Farmer's Market is booby trapped, intending to simulteneously disorient you and lure you into a food fueled frenzy. The throngs of tourists will undoubtedly take up too much space in these narrow passageways, and clusterfucking ensues. These tourist types will also most likely ask you for directions EVEN if you’ve got your Ipod on, sunglasses on, and your evilest Don’t-fuck-with-me look on, all of which under normal circumstances perfectly communicate your desire to not be bothered, but for some reason, the laws of the universe do not apply.

* people on stilts.
If this is not an obvious cry for attention, I don’t know what is. Hey, everybody! Look at me. I’m tall, but not really, I’m just standing on a useless contraption so that my vantage point appears to be abnormally tall! Well guess what stilt people. I am not amused. And what about the real abnormally tall people, huh? How do they think you feel, exploiting their misery in order to demonstrate visually how Jet Blue now has extra leg room? Thanks for ruining my day.

*slippery floors
I have never experienced as slippery a floor as in Nordstroms. This is seriously dangerous. This is what those “caution, slippery” signs were made for! A real situation that people should be warned about. I’m not sure how the slippery floor works into the Buy More Stuff at Nordstom conspiracy. Maybe you’ll spill something on your outfit and buy a new one? Maybe you’ll blame your old pair of shoes and opt for some expensive ones since surely their own shoes must be more adaptable to slippery floor conditions within their own climate region?

*dangerous sidewalk cracks
So today, I’m strolling along through the grove, trying to get to the parking garage as fast as possible. And I’m pleasantly pondering Steven Colbeagle the Eagle and whether the Saganaw Spirit won against that other team and when Steven Colbert is going to show it. (Or maybe he already did? How did I miss it? Maybe it’s on tonight. But tonight’s Monday…) When, out of nowhere, my heel gets caught in the crack, sending me flying forward. Fortunately for me, I’ve been involved in enough trip and fall incidents to know how to avoid completely falling on my face. It was more ankle twisting painful than embarrassing. As I collected my shoe, I gazed up into the American Girl Store. Oh the irony, I thought! Me - an American girl. Well I guess it’s not irony. But it sure is something.

How to survive –
• don’t fall for the trolley trap. After a long day the trolley may seem tempting and nostalgic, but unless you’re filming a Rice-A-Roni commercial, it’s about as useful as a (insert sarcastic metaphor that hopefully rhymes).

• stay away from the fountain. It will only cause you pain and sadness.

• Maximize the parking lot in your route. The parking lot is like the secret underground tunnel system of Disneyland. Learn it. It will help you avoid the aggressive sales people and even more aggressive shoppers.

• Don’t go.

The Silverlake Cheese Shop

This place is like cheese heaven. Unless you hate cheese. Then, I guess, it’d be cheese hell. But really, does anyone hate cheese? Okay, I mean, maybe if you’re allergic or lactose intolerant, but then you’d be sort of indifferent, not full throttle abhorrence of cheese. People who say they don’t like cheese are lying to themselves. And if you’re going to lie to yourself, why not make it a good lie? There are better lies out there, just waiting for you to discover them. The truth is out there. If you believe that, it’d make you feel a lot better than not eating cheese. But you know what’s even better than not eating cheese? Eating cheese. Upon entering the cheese establishment, I was immediately drawn to the first, obviously free sample I could see – olive oil. With bread! Quite tasty.

Matthew and I then proceeded to sample every sort of cheese in the place, having no inclinations before entering what we wanted, as is routinely typical of us. With a little gouda, goat cheese, brie, fancy brie, bleu cheese, and cheddar down the hatch, we decided on one of everything. The exceptionally knowledgeable cheese staff might know a lot about cheese. But we know a lot about eating cheese.

Then came the free wine. “Free wine?” we echoed to ourselves, just as you, the reader, are undoubtedly echoing to yourself. Yes. Good. Free. Wine. It was a red blend, and blend it did. Into my blood stream. I’m not sure if that’s accurate. That seems to imply a sort of surgical procedure. And anyone who watches Grey’s Anatomy will tell you, surgery and wine do NOT blend. Maybe if you’re watching a surgery. But definitely not if you’re performing it. That would be unethical.

At any rate, as I sipped my red blend, blending perfectly with my cheese infused palate, I thought to myself that Matthew and I sort of resembled this perfect combination or pairing of elements. Not that either of us resemble wine or cheese, but if I HAD to choose, I’d say I’m the wine because I’m silly yet sophisticated, and he’s the cheese because he’s cheesy. I mean, vice versa. Mainly, I’d say that the wine cheese combo is pretty awesome, and so are we.

Peace, Love, and Cheese,
E

The Cheese Shop of Silver Lake

The Lives Of Others (Das Leben der Anderen)

If you think the American way has lost its way as of late, then you are surely not alone. But no matter what the current state of affairs are: a trillion dollar war, denial of climate change, no universal health care, etc. Upon seeing "The Lives Of Others" you'll feel like pulling Old Glory out of the shed again for everyone to see.

In case you didn't know, living in East Germany whilst under "democratic" rule was not a gay old time. Enforcing this state of fear was the task of the Statsi or Secret Police, think the SS in Nazi German, except replace Lugers with microphones and reel-to-reel tape. When a slimy politician becomes obsessed with one of East Germany's most "loyal" playwrights and his actress girlfriend, the best interrogator in the Statsi is put on the case to try and expose the couple as being enemies of the state.

The film is captivating and tense, but I would expect nothing less from the Fatherland. The cast includes Germany's most famous acting couple, Sebastian Koch & Martina Gedeck, who along with Ulrich Mühe give stellar performances. I would definitely recommend catching this one at a cinema near you. By doing so you'll achieve your foreign culture exposure mitzvah for the year. Wow, a mitzvah for seeing a German film! What an amazing age in which we live!!

--M

Welcome!

Hey Everyone! We both decided that we know best about pretty much everything and we're in a generous mood and are going to share our wisdom with you, the people. So check back here often and be enlightened. Thank you and be well.


M+E=ME