…if you twist your ankle while sprinting towards an ice cream shop.

In my own defense, it WAS Mashti Malone’s we were sprinting towards:  http://www.mashtimalone.com/.

*sigh*

Millie is a girl out on the town.  Well, she will be tonight.  Apparently sitting on the patio at the French Market on Santa Monica Blvd sucking down Mores doesn’t count.  She’s never going back to that hair dryer at the Salon.  Juanita and the other girls are so catty.  She’ll sit out in the fresh air and dry naturally.  Besides, her date with Herb isn’t until 4:30.

As for the two hours of traffic that has passed and the 113 men that have sat around her since she got there: It’s the gays, Honey… they’ll keep a secret.

Uh-huh.

I’ve been blocked. I know its lame, but I keep feeling these self-imposed deadlines for my blog and I freeze. I have a number of pieces in pieces…some of the titles you’re missing are:

1.  Ped-Ophelia

2.  25 Things About Me

3.  Healthcare and Facebook Rant

4.  I Just Told my Mother that Ann Coulter is a Cunt

5.  Pet Peeves

6.  Douche-cars and the Douche-bags that Drive Them

Alas, as I said, they are pieces in pieces. It’s not just that I’ve been blocked, however. I’ve also been arguing politics with people who won’t actually read and refuse to listen. I really thought that once we got Obama in office, I wouldn’t have to be so involved…and so angry. I thought that once he was the President, America would let him do the job we elected him to do. Change things. Fix what Bush had done and bring us back into a global society that didn’t hate us. What I didn’t count on was the fact that the Republican Party would unravel – they’d have no leadership, and that the only thing they would be able to agree on is that they wanted to destroy Obama. As much as I hated that Bush imbecile, I never said I wanted him to fail and nobody ever carried a gun to meet him.

Though my recent interactions with people on Facebook and all of the emails and links I get sent from around the world, I’ve discovered a couple of things.

1.  Republicans seem to come in three varieties:

a) Rabid Christians with none of those pesky Christ-like values;

b) The easily led that don’t bother to do any actual research (i.e. someone like Glenn Beck tells them what to think and they assume he isn’t lying); or

c) Racist (this is actually the hardest one to pick out, because the only Republicans that actually come right out and say they’re racist are the white supremacists.

2. Christians seem to come in two varieties

a) Rabid, vengeful and hateful; or

b) The exact opposite – loving and compassionate.

Yes, I used the word rabid…twice. Many years ago I witnessed a rabid dog attacking another dog – through a chin-link fence. The dog’s eyes were glazed and as it broke off teeth and shredded its lips in the chain-link, it was completely unaware of what was causing the pain. This is what arguing with the anti-“Obamacare” people is like. Like playing Scrabble with a zombie…a hungry zombie. A zombie that wants to eat your brain.

Of all of my friends, only one, a Dentist, has actually read the bill and offered suggestions on how healthcare reform should be handled. Of course he sent his suggestion in and never heard back. The rest are just…rabid. At this point I just want to hear one or two of the following statements from them:

1.  I didn’t read the bill and rely on Glenn Beck/Ann Coulter/Rush Limbaugh/Sarah Palin for my information. I think socialized medicine is bad. (“What do you mean this isn’t socialized medicine? You’re a liar! And what about all the illegal immigrants that will be using our healthcare?”);

2.  I don’t care. I don’t care that there are 42 million uninsured. It’s my money;

3.  I am a republican and I have to fight against anything that the democrats do;

4.  I’m pissed that there’s a black man in the White House. I don’t know why. I might be scared because the times are changing (i.e. I might be scared because I’m white and I feel the time coming that I will be a minority in my own country);

5.  I don’t like the brown folk.

These people just need to tell me so I can file the information away. To use later. When they’re on Medicare. Or when their insurance companies drop them because they forgot to mention a mole that they didn’t even know was there.

I’m back. I’ll not be leaving you again. I’m going to stop thinking that these essays are what I need for my blog. A couple of times a week I’m going to post something. It might be a picture of some weirdo/interesting person I found at the coffee shop or it might be a rant. You’ll never know. Hell, I won’t know until I’ve already posted it.

I’ve been home for a few days with some dreadful cold / flu combination.  Perhaps, since I started feeling it on June 22^nd, it’s my first “summer cold”.  WTF?!?  What kind of awful joke is this?  June gloom dissipates and THEN I get a cold?  The sun is finally out, half-naked people are walking past my front window on their way to hike Runyon Canyon, and I’m huddled on my sofa with a dry, hacking cough that kept me up all night.  Ricockulous.   

Actually, I’m sitting at Coffee Bean with my dear friend Brooke.  But I AM coughing myself into a headache.  I’m working on this blog and she’s writing comedy.  She’s a good girl but seriously, she needs to hooker up a little to come out to the trendy Coffee Bean.  You know it’s bad when your hair is starting to look like a weave instead of the other way around.

I’m not good for much today.  You know the commercial where the woman takes a cold medicine and her head turns into a balloon?  I’m the one who didn’t take a cold medicine and my head feels like a rock.  A couple of years ago, my friend, the comedienne Shawn Pelofsky, had a radio show and I’d call in as Gay-on-the-Go.  I’m going to be that for you now.

Los Angeles has a remarkable array of activities and places one can go.  Over the last week, I’ve been to three of the more remarkable…things that every Los Angelino should experience once, should they get the opportunity.

1)     The Hollywood Bowl.  We were there for opening night.  It was also the 10^th Anniversary of the Hollywood Bowl Hall of Fame.  We got to see the induction of josh Grobin and Kiri Te Kanawa along with performances by Frederica Von Stade, Trisha Yearwood, Angelique Kidjo and Roger Daltrey.  For the love of God – where else are you going to see a collection like that?  Get the cheap, cheap seats, bring a couple of bottles of wine (per person), good friends and a pair of binoculars.

2)     The Magic Castle.  This is a phenomenal experience.  It IS, granted a little harder to get into.  Make friends with a member and make them come with.  The Castle itself is worth the trip.  The history – not just of the castle, but of every little item and picture on the wall – is remarkable.  Having a magician in every nook and cranny doesn’t suck either.  Also, the quality of the food and service has definitely gone up since the Castle ditched its vender and took the dining aspect back.

3)     The Annenberg Beach House.  Formerly the site of the home of Marion Davies (mistress of William Randolph Hearst), the Annenberg Foundation has created the most lovely of community treasures.  The original pool and the guest house designed by Julia Morgan (the architect of the Hearst Castle) are open to the public (pool passes sold for a mere $10 for adults) and sit steps from the ocean.  Tours run through the guest house which also offers free Wi-Fi for individuals just want to sit there and work on their computers while looking over the ocean.  There is also a little beach rental shop where we rented an umbrella and a chair for something pale while I proceeded to play in the waves on the beach.  This is truly a lovely spot to escape to.

THESE were lovely things to look back on as I’m miserable and sick.  Yesterday Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson died which only added to the gloom in my apartment.  It was a big news day and you could almost hear the sigh of relief of that assbag, South Carolina’s Governor Sanford.  I’ll bet he wishes he had waited one more day to have his press conference, eh?

I’ll leave you with some links that you might enjoy for the summer:

The Hollywood Bowl:  http://www.hollywoodbowl.com/

The Magic Castle:  http://www.magiccastle.com/

Dear friend, the funny G. Charles:  http://www.skinnyarbuckle.blogspot.com/

The Annenberg Beach House:  http://beachhouse.smgov.net/

And me, on the Facebook:  www.facebook.com/entertained1

It’s rare for me to just go to a coffee shop and sit there with my coffee.  There’s always so much to do.  I can’t imagine how my friends with houses and children do it.  My mother makes fun of me (and, quite frankly, looks down on me) for having a cleaning crew scour my one bedroom apartment every month or so.  Perhaps I’m just lazy. 

I have, however, always loved coffee-culture.  I walk into a Starbucks and am instantly fascinated by the people in the store just hanging out.  There’s always one group of middle-aged men scheming some brilliant business plan that’s going to make them a lot of money.  You can depend on 3 young girls chattering at each other (all talking, no listening), a tattooed guy on a Mac and someone particularly ethnic rocking out on his iPod.  If there is a comfortable couch or leather chair, there will be a homeless person there, surrounded by his or her belongings and nursing a cup of backwash for hours on end.

Today I sat down.  Originally I was going to read while that big dork of a boyfriend of mine was being tortured by a trainer…but I became too distracted by my surroundings.  At first it was just horror as I watched a very professorial looking man (though I think he actually wrote for a newspaper) that was sitting across from me.  He kept licking his fingers and trying to pull ear hairs as he read.  The girls next to me are talking about the unemployment rate and talking about the right time to get into the housing market.  Two guys further down are trying to win the approval of the girls they’re with – one isn’t trying as hard and, as he watches my every move, I think I know why. 

And then there SHE is – sitting catty corner from me and talking on the phone.  She is well known in Los Angeles and she’s in EVERY coffee shop, hiking canyon and dog park.  She is…”Desperation”.  “Desperation” is the thirty-something that is constantly rationalizing why someone treated her badly.  She’s ALWAYS monopolizing someone’s time explaining why some guy (that she slept with on the first date) didn’t call her.  “We woke up that morning and he looked scared” she says.  “He told me that he feels bad because he isn’t ready for a relationship.  But I could tell he really liked me.  I just wish he’d return my call so we could talk it out.  I think he fell in love with me and that it scares him”.

We all know that he looked scared because he drank too much the night before…and that he was horrified that she was still there in the morning.  I mean really – she scares the bejesus out of ME.  It’s like that joke I love, and my girls hate:  <Head tilts in as if listening intently>  “Umm, honey, your eggs are drying so fast you’re starting to sound like Rice Krispies.” <end scene>

The most beautiful girl just walked past.  She’s like 6’1” and wearing a sweater dress with pirate boots.  Her mouth is big, hair is long and dark and she’s so skinny that I can see her pelvic bone through the dress.  She reminds me of Liv Tyler.  The girl behind her has a dog that matches her Uggs.  That’s all I can see – I’m still blinded by the first one.

Los Angeles is so odd.  Scantily clad people are running to and from the gym across the street.  Old men jogging – in great shape but for the man boobs.  Cougars and future 3^rd wives side-stepping each other gracefully…different prey but wary of each other.  I wonder what people think when they see me.  Do they know that I’m undressing them (dressing them in certain instances)?  Putting different lives and purposes on them and making them interchangeable in the story?  Do they see a middle-aged man writing in a notebook or do they see the boy I really am?  It’s just like 4^th grade after reading Harriet the Spy, and I’m scribbling every thought that hits my mind and laughing maniacally…but quieter than in poor Mr. Eytcheson’s classroom.

Ah, Coffee.  Delicious, delicious coffee.