Life in clubLAnd: H.wood

When you're no longer surprised to see girls in tutus, DJs in pom-poms and grown men sporting arts and crafts, have you been in LA too long or just long enough?

Last night, my good pals--Dina and Elana--and I braved a night on the town. We stopped by H.wood [formerly (and briefly) Stork Lounge, even more formerly who knows what at the back of Hollywood & Highland]. If entering a posh club through a shopping mall seems strange...it is. Though once inside the venue's gate, I felt part of a dark, loungey atmosphere--well, going in and out, all I could think of was how great it would be to find an open Wetzel's Pretzels.

Last night's party, hosted by Posso the DJ (one half pictured below), celebrated the birthday of Daisy O'Dell and claimed inspiration from the Dada movement. Ok, we'll buy it.

Beside seeing some long lost LA cohorts (Rich Royal, Foundtrack's V, half the staff from Chateau Marmont, etcetera, etcetera), some of the evening's visual highlights included crafting...

Girls in leotards (thank you Elana for posing so I could discreetly get this shot)...

Balloon monkeys...

And the Carl's Junior fries picked up on the way home.

Also of note was the Crayola chalk on display as part of H.wood's free-spirited cirque theme. I am so sorry to the Hollywood & Highland staff for any damages I may [or may not] have done on the way out. Again...there are dangers to placing a club inside the mall.

Snuggie. Out to get me.

Several weeks ago, I gave in to the craze. I bought a pair of matching Snuggies online. Several weeks later, the winter already waning along with my need for them, they have still not arrived. Throughout the process the Snuggie brand has assaulted my trust and led me down the path of misdirection more than once.

1. Am I the only person who thought the Snuggie was a full-fledged sleeping bag meets onesie apparatus? Finding out it was merely a blanket with arms was like learning about death all over again.

2. After all these many days of anticipation, my product still not in hand, I consulted the UPS tracking. Apparently, the folks at Snuggie confused my shipping and billing addresses. My package of Snuggies has been in UPS limbo for more than a week and no one had informed me.

3. I called the Snuggie automated hotline. The female voice, perky and peppy in the face of my shipping woes, nearly drove me to tears before I found the way to a number for live help.

4. The Snuggie live ‘help’ proved no help at all when she gave me the 1-800 number for a porn hotline instead of UPS.

5. The second Snuggie live ‘help’ offered me the number for USPCS instead of UPS.

6. The third Snuggie live ‘help’ gave me the correct number for UPS, but apparently the UPS automated system is as trying to get through as the Unemployment hotline.

So, nearing the end of February my Snuggies have still not arrived. Lesson learned. By next year, I will either order a heated blanket or move to an apartment building with proper heating.

Signing off—cold and Snuggie-less,
Jessie B. R.

This is where produce comes to die.

I have never cooked. Nor have I ever claimed a desire to learn to cook. But, occasionally, it would be nice to have the skill set necessary to prepare something simple for consumption and sustenance. I lack this skill set.

4 nights ago, I came home for a quick 15 minutes between work and [other] work. In an attempt to feed myself, I decided on toast. Without a toaster, the oven would have to do. Within minutes the kitchen had filled with smoke. A few minutes later, my entire studio was a dark, toxic fire hazard. I couldn't see the mirror in front of me, let alone breathe. The cause of the near wipe out of my entire building? The last time I'd used my oven (a few months ago) had been to melt the remaining wax out of a candle. Needless to say, my apartment still smells like Hannukah.

Tonight, I cleaned out my produce drawer to find this...

Apparently, I've begun to grow a garden in my onion.

And these...well supposedly these were baby carrots in a past life. At least according to the bag. I don't believe it...

Sincerely yours and obviously better off with take-out,
Jessie B. R.

Xs & Os: A downtown LA adventure in cheap nuptial bliss.

In the last couple of months, everything has suddenly become too expensive. People are cutting back on everything, and rightfully so.

I've even heard of couples cancelling weddings because of budgetary restraints. Well, happy couples--money shouldn't be an obstacle when it comes to publicly announcing your love. Instead of taking out payday loans in order to pay for the 7 layer wedding cake, consider a cheaper and  more, um, colorful option...

 In a lunchtime walk yesterday around my building in Downtown LA, I came across a strip of Broadway (between 2nd and 4th), in which you can literally complete your entire wedding day extravanza, from shopping, to grooming, to the reception.

Brides: within just a couple of blocks, you'll be sure to find the dress that's right for you...

And for your bridal party...

Grooms: The block has got a resident barber shop...conveniently housed within a knife store...
The Guadalupe Wedding Chapel provides a unique and cultural backdrop for your romantic ceremony. They also offer income tax services, perfect for early spring nuptials...

Nothing will please your guests' fine-tuned palates like a banquet of chicken and the fixings. This particular El Pollo Loco has got a touch of regality in its exterior detailing--a perfect choice for your reception hall...

For these budget wedding tips, what do I ask? Just an invite to the happy couple's big day!

xx * Jessie B. R.

The RSVP Line: The Travel & Adventure Show. Because you are so desperately alone on Valentine's Day.

Maybe you're completely and hopelessly single with nothing at all to do on Valentine's Day but stay home alone, wallowing in your very deep despair and terribly tragic self-pity. Or perhaps you're coupled, but dating someone who's thought of nothing romantic to do this weekend, save his presentation of a plastic-wrapped box of Whitman's chocolate. Well, either way, it sounds like you're an excellent candidate for Travel & Adventure Show attendance! Hosted by the Los Angeles Times, the show will feature aisles and aisles [and aisles] of cities, countries and travel-related businesses to browse through. (I am available to accompany you on any trips, assuming my travel is paid for.)

More important to you, there will be a zip-line, rock-climbing, a dive pool (yes, there are wetsuits), a surf simulator, segways, and other fun [and slightly dangerous] activities.

And then there's the Culinary Stage, which I am uber excited for. Chef Evan Kleiman, owner/chef of Angeli Caffe will be demoing and sampling her Ricotta Beet Gnochetti. I tasted these last week during dineLA. And they are pretty f-ing good. Then there will be the other samples that you and your meat-eating friends can try in my stead.

Hope to see you this weekend folks.

Kisses and Valentine's Day hugs,
Jessie B. R.

Photo Credit: Falling Creek.com

What will they think of next? Camel Crush Cigarettes

My friend introduced me today to a wonky new invention from RJ Reynolds, the evil mastermind behind some of America's favorite cigarette brands. As a non-smoker, I suppose I've fallen behind in the tobacco industry's exciting new product launches, as Camel Crush is apparently not new. It's brand spanking new to me however and let me just say 'wow.' I didn't think that smokers were looking for innovaton in their ciagarettes--I assumed that for the truly addicted, the nicotine was the catch. But for the smoker who likes a little gadget action with his blackening lung, Camel Crush offers the 'ooh' and 'ah' factor he's seeking. The filter houses a tiny ball, containing menthol on demand. When you're ready to turn your stick to spearmint, you just crush (hence the name) the end of your fag.

I personally think mint belongs in toothpaste and chewing gum, but for those who like to include mint everywhere that it does not belong (i.e. - chocolate, ice cream and cigarettes), I suppose Camel Crush is a little slice of do-it-yourself minty heaven. Menthol smokers, rejoice.

P.S. In trying to find out more about Camel Crush, I visited the Camel website. This site has better security than LAX. Not wanting to give my real information, I made up a name and address. Camel actually verifies its users' information and was quickly on to me. I could not enter the fortress that is Camel Online.

Photo Credit: CS News

A cabash on kiddies.

While I’m all for women’s rights and the right to choose, I do think we should have restrictions over who gets those rights. If this seems undemocratic…suck it. We live in America, not Pleasantville. And some chicks need to put a cabash on the baby-making.

Top 10 types of women who should NOT be allowed to bear children…

1. Nadya Suleman
2. Crackheads
3. Nadya Suleman
4. Baby-eaters
5. Women who’ve already born 5 + children (Nadya Suleman)
6. Women already receiving welfare for their first 5+ children (Nadya Suleman)
7. Women who describe their desire to have children as a ‘fixation’ (Nadya Suleman)
8. Women who need government funding to feed their children but obviously have money for plastic surgery (Nadya Suleman…I think)
9. Violent women
10. Nadya Suleman

[FOX News: Octuplets' Mom On Welfare, Spokesman Confirms]

Wow, Chris Brown, wow.

Just heard about Chris Brown's arrest during E!'s red carpet Grammy coverage.

Couldn't you have curbed your assault and battery urges til after the show, Chris?! And beating on a woman? C'mon--that's just lame. You're lame, Chris Brown. Lame.

[EW.com: Chris Brown sought in connection with felony battery]

Life in clubLAnd: The Woods, Renee's Courtyard Cafe

I don't do Saturday nights anymore. Making my venture out last night to see my visiting friend J a rather large shock to the system. Things I learned along the way...

1. I didn't realize so many people still went out on the weekends.

2. That their skirts had gotten so grossly short.

3. We should all be on high alert for the thief who stole Santa Monica's style.

After dinner at Chan Dara (where I would highly recommend the Pad Se Ew and highly distrust the waitress' promise of 'mild'), we began our adventures at The Woods, the strip mall-housed bar, designed to look like, duh, the woods, and called a 'dive bar' despite the obvious design efforts and lounge appeal.


Well, in truth, we really began at Mashti Malone's Ice Cream next door in the shopping center. We skipped the house specialty, the rosewater ice cream, for straight up cream and fudge. Not a bad choice.

Next up, we traveled to Santa Monica's Renee's Courtyard Cafe. To my friends who warned me (Elana--you tried!)...I never should have doubted you. The room full of dusty old dolls, meant to evoke the kitschy and creepy, paled in frightfulness next to the horror of what appeared to be a full-on college party. Couples making out against the walls, gaggles of girls and groups of guys and beer and rain a mess on the floor. I had sudden urges to down kamakazi shots, smoke cigarettes while swapping spit with strangers in the corner, and wake up in my own vomit--just like the good old college days. Well, no--my first instinct was actually to propel myself out of there.


I never fail to see a different side of the city when friends are in town. And while I'm sure J is now frightened of ever returning to LA's nightlife scene after last night's sampling, I hope she'll return. So I can show her the safest place to spend a Saturday night...at home.

White women and their love of Africa.

In the last couple of days, I've been struck by a few white women who are very confident in their relationship to black, or African, culture. I hold judgement...for the most part.

Exhibit A: The white, female handler of a very famous R&B singer asking what time he really had to be on-site because she was dealing on 'black central time.' I believe there was also a reference to 'black playschool.' As the lone white girl amongst the event's front of house staff, I obviously had to wait for permission to laugh at this. After receiving confirmation from my black coworker at the table, I smiled. I am still not sure if I am hugely offended or wildly amused.

Exhibit B: Lauren Hutton 'Africa' eyeglasses. In the optometrist's office yesterday, I came upon this collection of eyewear [right next to Sophia Loren's--really?]. I understand Lauren loves her some travel and philanthropy, but c'mon now--Africa? Eyeglasses? What's the connection? Do Africans have an affinity for unattractive designer spectacles?

My 3 favorite things about Super Bowl Sunday.

Super Bowl Sunday is a great tradition of the American people. There's nothing quite like celebrating the commencement of a season of football that says 'I am patriotic. I love the United States and my fellow citizens.' The burly men, the tight pants, the cheering fans and their consumption of concessions.

I confess to being a newcomer to Super Bowl Sunday. Once, in college, I attended a friend's house party. If I remember correctly, I got stoned and ate Doritos in the kitchen. Last year, the new girlfriend of a football fan, we went to a pal's to watch the game. I read magazines and ate cheese. It was a good time. Tomorrow, I will celebrate the Super Bowl for a third time ever and, based on previous years, I look forward to my 3 favorite things about Super Bowl Sunday.

1.
2.

3.

Who am I rooting for? Well...who is playing again? The Kansas City Pigeons, no? Yes, I think I'll root for them.

Sounds: Paul McCartney...and the rest of the Coachella lineup is out.

Hope to see all you happy people in the desert for this year's Coachella.

I'm especially excited about Cloud Cult (the eco-friendly, awesome band from Minnesota), Amy Winehouse (who I hope will be able to withstand the heat in her heroine haze), Antony and the Johnsons (whose unmistakable sound--you may have heard it accompanying Hercules and Love Affair or CocoRosie--is just, well, awesome) and Franz Ferdinand (spotted last night at the Heidi Klum and Adrien Brody-attended Rankin opening for The Macallan at the M+B Gallery).

And by the by, this year's tickets are available on 'layaway.' Wow.

Friday, April 17th

A Place To Bury Strangers
Alberta Cross
Bajofondo
Beirut
Buraka Som Sistema
Cage the Elephant
Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band
Craze and Klever
Crystal Castles
Dear and the Headlights
Felix da Housecat
Franz Ferdinand
Genghis Tron
Ghostland Observatory
Girl Talk
Gui Boratto
Leonard Cohen
Los Campesinos!
M. Ward
Molotov
Morrissey
N.A.S.A.
Noah and the Whale
Patton & Rahzel
Paul McCartney
Peanut Butter Wolf
People Under the Stairs
Ryan Bingham
Silversun Pickups
Steve Aoki
Switch
The Crystal Method
The Aggrolites
The Airborne Toxic Event
The Black Keys
The Bug
The Courteeners
The Hold Steady
The Knux
The Presets
The Ting Tings
We Are Scientists
White Lies

Saturday, April 18th

Amanda Palmer
Amy Winehouse
Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti
Atmosphere
Band Of Horses
Billy Talent
Blitzen Trapper
Bob Mould Band
Booker T
Calexico
Cloud Cult
Crookers
Dr. Dog
Drive By Truckers
Drop The Lime
Electric Touch
Fleet Foxes
Gang Gang Dance
Glass Candy
Glasvegas
Henry Rollins
Hercules and Love Affair
Ida Maria
James Morrison
Liars
Mastodon
Michael Franti & Spearhead
MSTRKRFT
Surkin, Para One (Live)
Superchunk
The Bloody Beetroots
The Killers
Thenewno2
Thievery Corporation
Tinariwen
TRAV$DJ-AM
Turbonegro
TV On The Radio
Zane Lowe
Zizek

Sunday, April 19th

Antony and the Johnsons
Brian Jonestown Massacre
Christopher Lawrence
Clipse
Friendly Fires
Fucked Up
Gaslight Anthem
Groove Armada (DJ Set)
Jenny Lewis
Junior Boys
K'naan
Late of the Pier
Lupe Fiasco
Lykke Li
M.A.N.D.Y.
Marshall Barnes
Mexican Institute of Sound
My Bloody Valentine
No Age
Okkervil River
Paolo Nutini
Paul Weller
Perry Farrell
Peter Bjorn and John
Public Enemy
Roni Size
Sebastien Tellier
Shepard Fairey
Supermayer
The Cure
The Horrors
The Kills
The Night Marchers
Themselves
Throbbing Gristle
Vivian Girls
X
Yeah Yeah Yeah's

[Los Angeles Times Pop & Hiss Blog]

The Pictures: 'Doubt' and mildew

I can get down with quaint--the appeal of an antique, the charm of old stuff. I get it. But do you know what's not cute? Going to your first movie in months, visiting the 'quaint,' art deco-themed Regency Fairfax Cinemas and seeing this sign as you enter your screening room...

Do you know what leaking water equals, folks? It equals the smell of mildew for 124 minutes plus previews. And while I thoroughly enjoyed 'Doubt,' I may have enjoyed it even more had the smell of rot not been so prevalent. The film was recently nominated for 5 Academny Awards. Unfortuantely, I remember the theatre's odor more than I do Philip Seymour Hoffman's potentially award-winning performance.

Regarding the announcement of Viola Davis' nomination I will say this, however. She may have been good, but one scene does not an Oscar winner make. She's being lauded for her performance in the most pivotal scene of the film. But I think people may be confusing the scene--its signifcance in the storyline and the impact of its dialogue--with the actress. Davis was good, but she was good in an exceptional scene and the two should not be confused.

And P.S. - Speaking of films, should anyone be interested in seeing 'He's Just Not That Into You,' Metromix and the LA Times are hosting an advance screening next week with an intro from the director. Pick up a copy of Metromix to find the ad with RSVP information.

Microsoft lays off the 5,000 responsible for new product Songsmith.

Microsoft has just introduced its new Songsmith product. Songsmith allows you to sing into your computer, and out it cranks a stale background accompaniment. I suppose this could be useful for vocalists so bad, no band wishes to join the act. Or really, really lonely and untalented children.

Some folks have tested out the product by feeding it legendary songs, like The Beatles' 'Lonely Hearts Club Band,' and seeing what kind of melodic atrocity is born.



Gawker: Awful Product With Awful Ad Makes Awful Music
New York Times: Microsoft Songsmith is Easy (if Painful to Hear)

Finding zen amidst a sea of slow-ass bitches.

I was going to write about the assh*les driving on the streets of Los Angeles tonight as I returned from my afternoon writing class. About the man at the crowded gas station in Koreatown who slowly cleaned his car windows as I waited to take his place, though his tank had finished filling. About the woman in my class who speaks at a rate so slow that my brain cannot process the meaning of her words, and does so [I believe] in an attempt to seem 'deep.'

But instead, I want to breathe and let it all go. I want to remember the clouds today as they drifted through the sky after the rain, revealing a stunningly blue sky. I want to recall the shadows of pink that hovered above the skyline as the sun was setting this evening as I drove home on the 10. *

* Please note: taking pictures out of one's car window on the freeway is not safe, nor advisable, nor should it be attempted at home. Um, yeah, lesson learned.

Photos: Taken on Jessie B. R.'s Crackberry, 12:45 p and 5:45 p respectively

A musical flashback from the 1950s.

On the way into work this morning the background music to an NPR clip struck a chord. I'd heard the melody before and I couldn't get it out of my head. Later, I realized I'd heard a rendition sung in an episode of CSI Vegas.

Here, the original, and far more stunning version of the song I heard: 'Smoke Gets In Your Eyes' by The Platters.



It turns out the song's been rerecorded countless times...by Julie Andrews, by Cher, by Eartha Kitt, by Jerry Garcia, danced to by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers...the list goes on and on.

And here, a version that I wish I'd never come upon...



Happy listening!

xx * Jessie. B. R.

If pigs could fly and cupcakes could get any awesomer...

...they'd look a little something like this. Thanks Daily Candy for bringing my attention to Cupcake Envy, the folks who are making already awesome desserts, even awesomer.

I'd personally like an order of cupcakes in my likeness for my next birthday. Thank you friends for taking note.

xx * Jessie B. R.

4 year old takes hooker to school for show and tell.

The above picture was taken this morning on the corner of Vermont and Wilshire on my way to work. I was as shocked as I'm sure you are that this small child had picked up this woman on the street. He kept reaching for her hand, while she attempted to free her hands in order to keep her skirt below hoo-ha level. Kids are growing up so fast these days.

Oh...that's his mother? Well then, I have no words.

Blast from the past: Cabbage Patch darlings

In doing some research for a current writing assignment, I've come across these fab vintage rings celebrating all that were Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. They're straight out of the 80's, an awesome homage to the button nosed, cloth faces many of us came to love. And with "gold" plating to boot? Fantastic.

Find these gems and other vintage finds from the '50s through the '80s on Hullabaloo.

art in LA: Gregory Bojorquez's 'The Sun Rises In The East'

I was introduced to Gregory Bojorquez' work a few years ago at Lab 101 (now the Cerasoli:LeBasse Gallery) where he then shared a show with another killer LA photog, Estevan Oriol. Like Oriol, his work is mostly in black and white and mostly focuses on Latino subjects on the streets of LA.

Just wanted to share this invite from the 01 Gallery to the opening reception of Bojorquez's new exhibition, 'The Sun Rises In The East.'

I hope to see you there!

01 Gallery invites you to the opening of
The Sun Rises In The East
An exhibition by photographer Gregory Bojorquez

As a native of East L.A., Gregory Bojorquez has always found inspiration and subject matter in his community. He began photographing the neighborhoods of East L.A. in order to document the reality of the life and death extremes of the streets. This led Bojorquez to create "The Eastsiders," a photo essay on street happenings and character portraits all framed by the backdrop of East Los Angeles. This stark yet compassionate photo essay caught the attention of L.A. Weekly who began to publish his work. This soon led Bojorquez to publish in various L.A. magazines as well as develop his photography to include celebrity portraits such as Kobe Bryant, Ice Cube, and many other Hollywood entertainers.

The 01 Gallery invites the public to view this unique and passionate slice of L.A. life as seen through the eyes of Gregory Bojorquez.

The 01 Gallery opens the Gregory Bojorquez exhibition in conjunction with the Chaz Bojorquez exhibition "Graff Since 69" in the adjoining main gallery. (No relation.)

The Sun Rises In The East
January 31st - March 8th, 2009

Opening Reception
Saturday, January 31st, 7 - 10 p.m.