Keep creating.

This week has been insanely busy. The kind of busy that makes you nearly lose your mind and want to crawl into bed for an undisclosed amount of time. The kind of week that certainly inspires no moves to be creative, no thoughts to pick up a pen or take a photograph or paint a picture. Because it would surely come out like poo. And no one likes poo. But sometimes creating poo is the beginning of something greater. And taking a risk is the only thing to do. And picking up a pen (or a keyboard) even though you're exhausted and would much prefer to fall in a heap is the only appropriate thing to do.

Mr. Brainwash agrees.

Free wifi with a side of coffee & a Jesus sighting.

In my new life as a freelancer, aka a coffee shop-hopping/free wifi-seeking traveling ninja, it's been a fun game of sorts to find new places to camp out at that are not my studio apartment in Koreatown.

As I come across LA's freelancer-friendly gems, I'll share 'em with you.

You're welcome.

Whole Foods - Fairfax & 3rd

I know what you're thinking. Who wants to work from a supermarket. Well, I do. And you might too. Whole Foods has got comfortable and plentiful seating. Inside and out. A cafe. A salad bar for lunch. And people watching for eons.

Tips

* Feeling frugal? Just pick up a large Whole Foods brand water for under a dollar.
* On Wednesdays, the generally overpriced salad bar is discounted.
* Sit in the 'West Wing' if possible because a) calling it the West Wing will make you feel pretentious and overinflated, and b) sometimes the 'East Wing' attracts the 'crazy people.' And by 'crazy people' I mean homeless people who bicker over table territory and actors reading lines.

Warnings

* Power outlets are not aplenty. In fact, there may not be any at all.

Etcetera

* Jesus hangs out here. You know Jesus. He's the long-haired, bearded dude who walks Sunset Boulevard at night wearing a long white smock and occasionally dons a cane. Well, apparently he eats organic. He's also got a MacBook Pro. And possibly a younger girlfriend. Who woulda thought.

* Sometimes you'll think there are hookers shopping here. They are not hookers. They're just near middle aged women trying to hold onto their youth with neon short skirts and clear plastic heels.

* The pastry guy asked me out. Maybe this doesn't mean anything to you. But I've got an ego to uphold. And not much to feed it. So give me a moment to gloat about the pastry guy, will you? Okay...I feel better now.

Red Bull Flugtag: Make it. Fly it. Crash it.

In my world of freelance events, the work is generally interesting. I can't complain. Or I shouldn't anyway. But sometimes an event stands out as so rad, so unusual, so totally bizarre that I feel compelled to share it with you.

So, friends, some pictures from last Saturday's Red Bull Flugtag event, held in Downtown Long Beach, are below. For those of you who don't know the event: 30+ teams are selected to build homemade crafts, get them to the Long Beach pier, and catapult them off a 30' launching pad. Most crafts, needless to say, nosedive straight into the water. With their team. To the 100,000 person audience's great joy and entertainment.

A sneak peak at some crafts the night before.

The craft ideas ranged from political to artistic to ridiculous.

The entraceway in. The quiet before the storm.

The pre-show included a stunt from Red Bull's killer skydivers. Skater Ryan Sheckler also skated off the ramp into the water below. I injured myself just watching all this from afar.

Our amazingly fun judges hard at work.

A view from the Judges' Tower of just some of the 100,000 guests.

The Judges: Tenley (The Bachelor), Ryan Sheckler (Red Bull athlete), Nicole Sullivan (MAD TV, Sh+t My Dad Says), Cheech Marin (Cheech & Chong), Dave Sanchez (KROQ)

Before the sunburn set in, my pal & I--talent coordinators extraordinaire (or so they say).

The office holiday party gift that keeps on giving.

Earlier this week, my department hosted its annual holiday party. This party is lovely and endearing for all of its predicatability. There will always be a domestic cheese platter. I will always eat too much. Someone will always get inappropriately drunk. But what spices the party up each year is the White Elephant gift exchange.

At this year's party I received this odd specimen of a gift to the left. A 'Crazy Cat Lady' Action Figure. I think the irony begins with the word 'action.' Isn't an inherent part of the Cat Lady's persona that she not get any action?

The toy is accompanied by a quiz on the back to sort out, at long last, if you are or are not a Crazy Cat Person. Some of the questions include...

* Do you get excited when you hear a can opener?
* Do you have more cats than ex-boyfriends?
* Do you bring new boyfriends home so the cats can meet them?
* Do you later break up with them because the cats weren't impressed?
* Do you own more than one piece of clothing with a cat on it?
* Do you feel that the ancient Egyptian tradition of cat worship is the one true religion?

To which I'd like to ask, 'So, what if I can say yes to one or more of these questions? What of it?' To which I'll add that I'm not admitting to any of this. I'm just asking. So I'll implore you to stop judging me.

Regardless, I'm really looking forward to Friday night at home to play with my cats....um, I mean play with my new action figure...um, I mean go out and get crazy. Cause I totally have a life.

Event planning--an unglorious profession.

Sometimes event planning takes me to places like this...

Where I get to throw fabulous rooftop parties with a view for fabulous people where we all drink fabulous cocktails and talk about fabulous things. (This poolside shot was taken from my 'satellite office' at the Andaz West Hollywood on Monday.)

And sometimes event planning keeps me at my desk til late at night doing things like putting together staff badges...

While drinking Red Bull and finding comfort in caffeine and other people's Facebook updates from the outside and the Ray LaMontagne station on Pandora Radio.

Tipping: a rant by yours truly.

Let me begin this by saying that a) I have worked in the service industry for years--planning events, catering, waitressing (I may have gotten fired from the latter, but this does not disqualify the mention), and b) I know that many employees are paid less than minimum wage with the assumption that they will be tipped, and c) I rarely rant on here, so give me a break while I proceed to do just that.

The tipping system is broke and it needs fixing. The system creates a situation in which I, the consumer, am made to feel personally responsible for certain service providers' salaries. And the last thing a Jewish girl's guilty conscience needs is someone's livelihood on her hands. As much as I may like my waitress, I don't need to end my meal with thoughts of her unpaid rent if I don't dole out an additional 20% to her for bringing out food I've already paid for. The clerk at Nordstrom's shoe department brings lots of things back and forth to me but I'm not expected to throw cash at him.

There are tons of places to read up on tipping etiquette, but none can tell me why some professions are tip-based and others salaried.

One of these sites does offer up the following scenario, however...

Have you had a hard day traveling or at work? Do you feel a little grumpy? Were you sharp with someone?

Well, guess what! People in service industries don't always have great days either. Show them a little mercy and assume the best about them. Maybe your waiter is a little absent-minded because his mother is sick in the hospital.

Righto. I do feel grumpy. Because I just gave $5 of my measly salaried cash to some dude who can't land an acting gig and therefore has to refill my diet coke. He's grumpy?! Well, he should get a steady job.

And if we are going to continue the archaic practice of tipping, I vote that we make the following jobs and activities tippable...

1. Being a good friend. That's right. If you call me to blather on about some problem of yours, I want a dollar.

2. Temp work. Think your temporary secretary answered the phone with enthusiasm and speed? Tip 'er a couple bucks.

3. Supermarket bagger. I have had some fantastic baggers. They put the heavy stuff on the bottom, the produce up top. They deserve their fair share.

4. Graffiti artist. Do you have an illeagal mural in your neighborhood that speaks to you? Take a photo of the artist's tag. Show it around to some 'in the know' folks in the area. Find that guy who defaced local property. And slip him a 5!

5. Marketing & Events. Who makes you go out and buy things you don't need? Who convinces you of brand loyalties you didn't know you had? That's right--your local marketing and events worker. She deserves a cut of the company's action. And who better to give it to 'er than you. Tip her a hundy for all her hard work....oh, I'm a Marketing & Events worker? Well, gosh then. Thanks so much in advance for recognizing my hard work and paying me for it.

Sounds of the rainforest.

This morning--as I return from the bustle of New York (more on the trip later) to the dreariness of my office--the emails, the endless paperwork and requests from coworkers--I'm listening to the sounds of the Costa Rican Rainforest via this YouTube video. And it is somehow--almost--keeping me sane.



And then I realize that if sitting at my desk, listening to nature sounds through a pair of headphones is a welcome change, it may be time to reevaluate my life.

[YouTube: Rainforest Sound]

All good things must come to an end. Vacations included.

This is what it feels like to be back at work today.

But Tyra says that crying in the workplace is bad. So, I will try not to cry. I will try not to cry. I will try not to cry...

Photo Credit: Corbis

Special delivery. One rich bitch.

When talking of the things I'd never done before, I used to be able to count ordering items off the radio amongst them. That was before last Saturday. Maybe it's been the general economic climate. Maybe it was a suspicion that my employer would file for Chapter 11 just two days laster. Or maybe it was just the early morning, pre-caffeine haze clouding my judgement. But as I drove along, listening to the paid programming that's airing more often now on my am news station, I was enraptured.

Loral Langemeier was being 'interviewed' on the air about her wealth-building philosophies--essentially that each of us can be rich--a millionaire, she'd say. And it's by capitalizing on things you're already doing. Let's say you're always watching the neighbors' kids...start a day care business. Perhaps you just love to knit...start ebaying those scarves in your closet (just because your family thinks they're awful doesn't mean someone in Alaska won't need one come winter). Or maybe you're already sleeping around town like a wild rabbit...well, get paid for those hours honey!

Since I already have hobbies--I like to write, I like taking walks, I like cleaning my sock drawer--I figured one of these interests might be sellable. Why not start a business of separating out my tall socks from the short ones?

I arrived home tonight with a reminder of this car ride--the call I hurriedly made and the conversation I had with a gentleman who asked what my financial goals were, tried to sell me a 'free' series of books and cds, and gladly took my VISA number. My book and CD (free, but for $9.99 shipping and tax) had arrived!

It was only now that I thought to do a little research on Loral. I've learned that her company, Live Out Loud, doesn't take too kindly to cancellations and isn't that keen on refunds. One woman calls her 'a crook.' Another warns that she'll 'sleep with your husband.' Well, luckily I'm not married. And I don't have much to steal. But needless to say, I might have looked into this before I provided my home address and banking info to her cronies on the phone.

In the event that I am evicted next week due to overdue payments I didn't realize I'd owe to the 'Loral Langemeier Knows I'm an Idiot and Will Buy Anything' Foundation, I'm going to get to reading my free 'Millionaire Maker' book tonight and listening to the free CD as soon as possible.

Here's to a richer tomorrow,
Your friend [the sucker] Jessie B. R.

Google game - Rich Things.

Over the last 2 days, I have heard about even more people in my circle of industry friends getting laid off. Yesterday I even walked in on 2 colleagues packing files, removing personal affects off the walls, and being watched by eagle-eyed HR folks who stood in the corner as they stowed their hard work and years of dedication into brown cardboard boxes.

I am sad for my buddies, am shocked that the companies who've let them go don't know their worth, but am even more frightened by an economy so drastically recessed that it's driving businesses to cut out the very assets that make them tick. It must be bad when you cut off your nose to spite your face...or is it the hand that feeds you...you see my point, I'm sure.

So, to cheer myself up, I turned to a little inspiration from Google. I entered rich things into the search bar to see what would pop up in Images--I thought that perhaps I'd find a picture to illustrate the more important 'rich things' in life--perhaps a mother hugging her child? A field of lush growth? You know, the things I can hope to attain if I too lose my job and have only grain rice left to eat.

Instead, amongst images of Hillary Duff in tight jeans and rappers in front of customized SUVs, the only thing to catch my eye was the above grill, bedazzled into the mouth of a male who appears not only to have bad taste but also terribly sparse facial hair.

And this fine specimen to the left. I suppose I can figure out how such a--well, large--item might be considered a 'rich thing.' But I was not nearly curious enough to unearth the picture's context in the article. I'll leave that to you, my reader, to whom I wish the richest things and finest weekends.

xo * Jessie