i TOLD you pinkberry was an evil empire! it's not even froyo! check it out\\http://defamer.com/hollywood/dairy_related-disillusionment/pinkberry-sued-for-allegedly-passing-off-instant-powder-as-yogurt-259468.php

fiddlehead ferns and fideos

Eats:


Warning: this city is not shy about salt. "Savory" is my euphemism for "bloat", and I have been savoring this city with reckless abandon. My pilates instructor will be appalled. Read and salivate at your own risk.

fiddlehead ferns, as my dear noa describes them, "taste like the forest after it rains". she's a blogger extraordinaire and fabulous foodie, so i expect no less of her...but it's still a fresh and crispy delight to be amongst NYC food lovers and not LA food haters. at long last, i can stand tall, recently only a shadow of my San Francisco foodie self. Casa Mono set the stage last night. N and I shared quite the romantic little table here, and nibbled on Patatas Bravas and Pimiento Ramps so spicy that not even New York's Finest could cool the tongue. I reveled in losing myself to this mysterious menu despite my knowedge of the Spanish language. El Bulli, here I come!


Endive salad and a-maz-ing grape leaves from Citronella. And the polenta napoleon is a great hangover helper! ERose aka Golden Tw** and I rationalized our consumption of percorino romano.

Brussel Spoouts and Cauliflower in broth at Employees Only, and the "gluten nemesis" cocktail the charming host mixed especially for me. I went here twice and on the second time contemplated spending some time with the fortune teller, which indicates my state of mind at the time....

Dumplings at Chinatow Braserie. While I know that these are over-priced as compared to any Chinatown varierty, the whole mystery meat risk is removed, which makes these dumplings infinitely more palatable. They are so lovely and translucent-- almost like the pulsating dome of some exquisite jellyfish. The mushroom dumplings fell apart in my mouth. MMMMM. And the watercress ones-- amazing. The turnip cake is heavy, but makes a nice base for an evening of cocktails and whatnots.

Marvelous Moroccan olives and golden raisins danced throughout my butter lettuce salad with sesame-tahini dressing at CookShop. I enjoyed it with a sauvignon blanc at the behest of my work friend and college friend-of-a-friend, B. Reunions are divine, especially at noon in Chelsea.

Samy's Noodle shop-- I couldn't spend more than $20 on dim sum dinner for two here if I tried! The New Year's Cake is what I had known as a Shanghai rice cake-- chewy discs of rice noodle stir fried with boy choy and brown sauce. The dim sum was ok, and ya can't beat the price!

Beverage:

House Cabernet at Soho House roofdeck. As my friend D, a founding member of SoHo house in NYC, see it, this is an exclusive place for escaping the hustle bustle of the scene. SH is a constant-- a place where people can relax and be their fabulous selves and not waste their good luck on the general public. Not sure whether I am buying in on his view.

Grammercy Park Hotel: mango martini-- overkill on the sugar and spice. I think there are still fragments of clove in my left molars.

Discovered at Union Bar-- Patron with a splash of soda and Rose's Lime, served on the rocks. I will never look back!

brunch is arisen

all of beautiful post-coital LA was condensed into BLD this morning. a few couples had beautiful babies, and i found myself wondering whether they had been conceived before brunch at BLD. but that would be nearly impossible, as BLD is newish. s and i debated on whether it was "ok" for me to stare and smile and coo at babies for more than a few polite minutes. he thinks parents appreciate my attention to their genetic pairing, but i think i must be annoying, like the people who always want to pet your french bulldog on the street and ask obvious questions.

i had a wild mushroom fritatta with spinash, shallots and aged goat cheese! s had the turkey burger. as for the sides, we played our usual game. he asked me to order the fries, to liberate me from my health nut thing; he, in turn, ordered a side salad, so that i couldn't admonish him for ordering the fries. sound complicated? this meant only that we were to switch in minutes.

the coffee was amazing at bld. gotta find out whether it was illy.

so we are heading to oasis in the ghetto in echo park for a brunch/mimosa fest by the pool. this is *the* party house for the summer, and this is *the* party to kick off teej's departure to bulgaria to film some sci-fi thriller. au revoir, teej! can we housesit?

earlier in the morning, things were not so auspicious. i felt it my duty to go to easter service so that i could honestly tell my mom i did. s went to parochial school and is anti-religion but agnostic...he's lapsed. i was raised lutheran but have studied histories of religions and am of an open mind...with the loftiest ideals and basest temptations. i am disgusted by the bigotry of the church, but easter is supposed to be about renewal, about some hope. so...i convinced him. we despise all this new-agey rock session stuff, so opted for what looked like a traditional lutheran place in our hood. martin luther would have nailed HIMSELF to door the church at worms with 99 reasons not to go to this church. instead, 400 years later, I got scarred.

count down from 99:

99. "viva las vegas" page in bulletin
98. scary pastor in muscle shirt with no vocal inflections
97. chinese gangster directly in front of us in over-tailored suit has a problem cracking his ringed knuckles and bobbing his head in affirmation...in sync
96. that rock-pop idol-gospel horrific hymnal music
95. the gladiator audio clips. wtf?

we snuck out and ran down the street!!

needless to say, i will be practicing my "spiritual devotional" (read: augustine) sola for a long time to come. i don't appreciate anyone insulting my intelligence. i will not be evangelazing and touting my own hypocrisy. ugh! revolting!

wickety-wack at the MizzOCA

this feminist exhibition has been really poorly reviewed, but i found it very provocative. isn't that the point?

http://www.moca.org/wack/

ana mendieta's "almas en fuego", a series of outdoor photographs with mediums from earth to ice shaped as human bodies, laced with gun powder, was really compelling. it reminder me of those baking soda volcanoes we made as kids. except the "blowin' up" was metaphorical. but really, it was beautiful.

there was lots of pantalones en fuego in this exhibit, too.

i like judy chicago. her work makes me cry, because itevokes such strong empathy, from elation to humiliation.

with the exception of chicago, i was surprised that the feminists were for the most part beautiful,
attractively put-together women. i expected them to be rather crude and unfinished.

if you're in LA, check it out at the Geffen Contemporary. but don't go upstairs. there's nothing good up there unless you can suppress a gag.

progressive/passe of the day

OUT: wearing pearls to the gym
IN: wearing white gold to pilates

OUT: malls and parking garages
IN: Farmers Markets

OUT: The smell of pennies
IN: Paypal bank

OUT: Lazy weekends (exception noted for mimosa brunches in Malibu)
IN: Mishe Mokwe trail

OUT: Senses of entitlement
IN: My sense of entitlement

OUT: Those below honor
IN: Righteous indignation

OUT: Pinkberry
IN: M Café strawberry speltcakes

ada, or ardor, or perfect prose

le sigh!

this Nabokov tome was recommended by my best friend, aka "golden t***"' nee E.roses' beau, whom i held already in high regard. the book's subject matter is, at first glance, lecherous and degoutante. but one finds oneself lulled in the lilting narrative. it's very Proustian. very recherchez de temps perdu, but more interdit. i love details. descriptions of skin. things that don't openly ask to be perceived as beautiful. unexpected, skilled observances, vivid memories.

i really was surprised to have enjoyed it, as i did not like Lolita. at all. but given Nabokov's intellectually transcendant, oratorally sublime discertations on James Joyce' Ulysses, i had to give him another chance. Nabokov's lectures got a run for their money with Joseph Heller's (Catch 22) Skeleton's Guide to Finnegan's Wake.

Anyhoo, this poor library book was dog-eared as if it had been my own. hopefully it imparts MY affection.

sisters, real and not so real

the bad news first: i made a little girl cry today. i feel terribly about it. i took my volunteer BBBS little sister to Mountain High today-- we drove 2 hours through the desert only to arrive upon dirt patches modestly annointed with sludge. am i just a vail snob now, or did the necessity of powder occur to the people who advertise spring skiing there? so, pair the bare runs with me lifting the kid under the arms the whole way down the mountain, fruitlessly screaming "snow-plow", and there you have my day. i was raised with the "sink or swim method" and swear by it. no training wheels here. just a strong push from dad on my first bike in an empty parking lot and the words, "if you keep pedaling, you can't fall-- if you stop, you will." to make matters worse, she *insisted* upon (horror of horrors) In-and-out, where i was ogled by a man wearing denim farmer overalls with nothing undernearth while i watched traffic build, bumper-to-bumper, on the 10.

the GOOD NEWS: my youngest sister has been accepted to the UC schools to which she applied! SCORE for the westside! Hooray, my little N-dinka!

genius

over lunch at the four seasons pool yesterday, i noticed that their iced tea included iced cubes of tea.

i suggested lemonade cubes along with iced tea cubes for the arnold palmer. no dice from the management. what gives?

Swedish PBJ

Peter, Bjorn and John performed at my place of employement this morning. They're flawless. And now I know which one of the guys whistles. I wanted to enquire after the whereabouts of the girl, but didn't want to offend if one of them is the falsetto virtusoso...?

I always get in trouble for talking to the artists, but I so so tres charmante, non? Well. we were all big fans of one another...they were one of the friendlier bands I have encountered at the studio. Alas, they are heading to SXSW tonight, so no spinning at Spider Club for them.

Bummed that I will no longer be "in the music industry" after this month.

Check "Object of My Affection" and "Paris 2004"...

"Let's Make a Tent!" OR "Elk never tasted so good"

Vail: So many bumps, so little time. The powder was sick. Yes, I can say "sick" and really mean it. Big bowls of powder at 11,000 ft above sea level='s GIDDY and GIGGLY.

Our tres charmante hostesse RW, MS aka the "Smoky Svelte Elk" and I, Buffalotta, tore it up. We shall hold these memories tres, tres cher:

1) Beano's Cabin in Beaver Creek-- thanks to fond memories from R, a sleigh whisked our fancily furred forms up the mountain by night, to the warm and candlelit cottage that is Beanos. We feasted on prime rib Buffalo, elk, juicy scallops, butternut squash and apriocot sorbet. Competing with the warm glow of candles perched upon antler-chandeliers was the blinding bling of a pear-shaped diamond at the table next to us. When our cher R leaned over to admire, she was rather admonsished. Strike two against the Beaver-snoots here. While the ring was the product of a Christie's auction, she wore a scrunchie-- nuff said. With the sustenance of Colorado to nourish us, we braved our way back to the sleigh. "Let's make a tent!" exclaimed I, and the rest, mes amis, was downhill. Our silly woolen fortress was the site for many a photo as Smoky Svelte Elt played Atlas, holding up the world. This was absolutely the highlight of the trip.

2) Hot tub chez nous in Beaver Creek-- R convinced us!

3) Samana lounge in Vail-- making the boys cry, and hiding the nasty shots they purchased for us.

4) Buffalo chili-- anytime, anywhere. Move over, turkey chili at Deer Valley-- PLEASE!

5) Reading Ada, or Ardor, fireside at the Ritz-Carlton at Bachelor Gulch

Not so hot:

1) Stalkers

2) The nasty spill I took on a mogul trying to show off, ensuing in whiplash. So glad I live in the land of cheap deep tissue massages.

3) Leaving my blackberry there. (File under: Blessings in Disguise)

Shout outs go to my partners in crime-- the was the best trip in ages.

Anais and Brett duel for my soul

OK, so I'm starting a new job on 4/2. Last day at current place of employment 3/23. What to do? Anyone who knows me knows that I must have at least one trip planned on the horizon, or I become comatose and require a retinal scan and a boarding pass to revive me . Since Istanbul has become a bit problematic logistically, I've come up with the following options with the help of cher Spencer (pron: "spahn-SAY"):

PARIS VS PALM SPRINGS

(Please weigh in with comments. If you dare tell me to try Constantinople I will pinch your elbow fat very hard next time I see you).

PARIS

Pros:
- My dearest friend Ellen lives there with her fiancee, Benoist. NON, mes amis, pas de Ben-Wa!
- Imagine myself as Anais Nin in the poet's dens of the marais
- Romance? See my cher above.
- Couture
- Monmartre
- Um...find Uffie?

Cons:

- Been there a bazillion times, so I know this:
- "Paris in the Spring" is over-rated...at least in March.
- Indulge in the city's luxuries during ever-so-brief unemploymentand conveniently feign ignorance of the strength of the Euro! (On that note: file under "Pro")

PALM SPRINGS:

Pros:

- Easy
- Romance? By default?
- Dry heat + pool = ahhhh
- Sun-kissed glow
- Relaxation
- "Detox". I can say this because I live in LA. I don't know what it means, but I think it has something to do with sweating out alcohol before it gets to one's liver. (File under "dry heat", above)
- No jet lag

Cons:

- Anti-climactic way to spend 10 days
- I have porcelain skin. Glow may not be possible.
- Brett Easton Ellis nightmares

HELP!

In anticipation of ski heaven!

Oh, the delights of a winter Wonderland shall be ours in mere hours! Panoramic vistas of snow-capped mountains, sparkling villages, quaint from afar…waiting to be plundered by our cosmopolitan ways…ah, the thin air that makes us giddy, expedited by hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps, drunk in fuzzy sweaters as our cheeks turn pink! Feet sinking into pure-white snow, perhaps a snowball if our gloves are water-proof…the feeling of weighlessness as we spring from moguls with the greatest of ease! Vail and Beaver Creek in t-6 hours!

stowe flakiness

on business in the backwoods and my one novel (white oleander) is super femme-y and i am cursing the fact that i brought it (a hardcover, no less!) over a soft, worn joan didion. already skiied every damned ice chute on the mountain. deep tissue was over before it started. industry subject matter somewhat repetitive. feeling a bit restless. must create project for myself. or trouble-- even better.

sundance made me dance

1) "The Legacy" screening and meeting with director Babluani. Shockingly beautiful, poignant, stirring, simple film... hope it gets picked up
2) front row of mos def concert, trying to hand him my bottle of dom p
3) hanging with matisyahu after he missed his stage time, and helping him find a venue to perform in
4) free massages at the hollywood reporter party...i had 4 of them

Cougar Attack!

San Francisco is the land of cougars. I had a fateful encounter with a particularly nasty beast while visiting a couple of weekends ago. I should have known that partying in the ultra-preppy area north of the Marina was risky, but I foolhardedly entered Harry's sportsbar on Fillmore with another young girlfriend.Within minutes of casual conversation with some friendly young fellows, a cougar staked me out. She was easily recognizable by her platinum streaks with dark roots and the vulgar black leather coat intended to hide her weathered underskin. We were both within a 2 ft radius of bachelors and she mistaked my general smile as a threatening snarl. Fiercely territorial, this cougar began foaming at the mouth, aided by her sloppy beer consumption. The sight was too much to bear, and I looked away, ashamed for exciting the pathetic beast. I avoided further eye contact. (Note that it's important not to move when identified by a cougar—they usually seek intoxication at these local watering holes and can easily become dizzy if they try to stare at a non-moving object). But the cougar had already assessed me as a competitor come to loot her lair, and before I could set aside my Kir Royale, she struck. With a thrust of her creaky old hip, she set a bar stool toppling toward my feet. The pain had me cursing my peep-toed sandals and hurriedly limping from the bar to nurse my smarting appendage.

As I recover from the wound inflicted by this vicious vehicle of desperation, I take pause to warn you of the dangers of the cougar.

Here are some tips for spotting cougars:
- The most dangerous cougars have never borne live young.
- Cougars and most dangerous to women, and can happily co-exist with the male species. In FACT, cougars, though feral, aspire for domestication
- Cougars are harmless by daylight and choose to come out at night to protect their brittle skin
- Animal print, black leather and orange lipstick are favorites among cougars.
- http://www.urbancougar.com/sightings_nt.php

PLAY IT SAFE!

why this blog?

i've been writing since the age of 14, with a fluidity between poetry, prose, streams of consciousness and the purely sensory. with each year, i've become more honest with myself about the range of feelings-- what's truly euphoric or devastating has changed in scale, to say the least. but there's an innocence to capturing that lilting dream and owning it on paper. i've never, ever shared even a page of the volumes i've created these past 13 (!) years. not sure i ever will. but i should at least share some random tid-bits. my personal peanut gallery of voices. my friends know i'm nothing but quirkiness when someone gets to know me well. so forgive me, those of you who stumble upon this and find me obnoxious =)

returned from nyc last night and still on a high from the city and my best friends, complementing the time with family in DC, where i recalibrate my values a few times a year.