Tag: Los Angeles
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office space
I keep planning on sitting down to write my Festival of Books story. I haven’t forgotten. Instead: Two Office-related thoughts in my head lately. The first was after hearing that Jenna Fischer broke her back at the upfronts by slipping on marble stairs while wearing heels. “That’s exactly what will happen to me if I…
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late-night guests
Well, someone had fun in Los Angeles. I told AB she was really getting to see what my life is like out here, from the boring parts — extremely long shuttle rides from the airport, sitting in coffee shops for long hours, getting phone call updates from me while I’m out at pitch meetings, driving…
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file under: awesome.
On my flight out of Los Angeles: Tone Loc. Ringtone I heard just before take-off: “Funky Cold Medina.”
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oh, no.
The dangers of my Topeka hotel: And new to the list, after the final round of allergy scratch tests: pollens, or Why California Is Killing Me: California Black Walnut Olive Tree Cottonwood Bermuda Grass Maple Cypress (like you wouldn’t believe. my arm was livid!) Ash Willow Brome grass Alkali rye grass Perennial rye grass Kentucky…
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maintenance
Yesterday I made a list of people I needed to call to schedule appointments. At the top of the list: allergist. Mom called yesterday morning and said, “Have you seen the wheat doctor yet? I really want you to be able to eat bread again.” I think the next time I come to town, she’d…
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the top model strike continues
At the strike last Friday, I was babbling to Eric about how I sometimes put the post of the sign at the top of my hip. “It’s my strike hip,” I explained. “Why doesn’t anyone else use their strike hip?” Eric pulled out his camera. “Okay. Give me your best Top Model pose,” he said.…
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reviews and book tour info
“…And when Pam writes about situations that might be traditionally wacky, she doesn’t turn away from the depth of how bad that sucks when it’s you. Another writer– a Chick Lit writer– might play the whole situation for superficial laughs, but not Pam. Don’t get me wrong, there’s laughter in the book, but it’s the…
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116.
dammit. i had written half of this entry when my browser crashed. i lost everything i had written, which is mostly about how fucking hot it is up in this motherfucker. the dvd player broke today. my computer keeps crashing. the bank outside the coffee shop says it’s 116. it’s hot, people. hot. so hot…