I forgot to mention this...

Vanilla flavored Crest toothpaste????? Why? Who came up with this? The billboard design makes me think it's for grown-ups, not children. Am I THAT out of touch with the young people who are the up and coming consumers?

Is it for teenage girls, as vanilla is safe and non-sexual? (Peppermint is so racy, implying Who Knows What in the red states) Is it supposed to remind you of some vanilla/coffee beverage which is why you need to brush your teeth in the first place?

Or was it even more evil? Aimed at housewives, a special 'only for the holidays' kind of thing, which offends me on so may levels. Don't get me wrong, I like Christmas. But special holiday fucking TOOTHPASTE takes that "obsessive/Martha Stewart/I must make this Christmas the most special one ever" thing some women have to a whole new level. Special hand towels, soap, and a Santa in a Bathtub sculpture to decorate the bathroom for the holidays was apparently JUST NOT ENOUGH.

Part of me admires the company for tapping into that instinct, but the other part is utterly disgusted.

It is raining, raining, raining here. We had the most amazing thunder storm last night, that went on for hours. We don't usually get storms like this here in SoCal. I don't know why, but we very rarely get thunder and lightning. When we do, it is cause for remark. What made it extra special was that the it went on for hours and hours. The first flash and thunder clap was at 4:30 in the afternoon, and continued until at least midnight. It wasn't constant, but at least a couple of real good house shakers per hour.

The new nabe is very hilly, and we have no flooding yet. A shout out to the Barrett-Grey clan, as I know too well what happens to Skankershim Blvd after a light misting. I ordered you an ark on amazon.com. It should arrive any day now.

There was even talk of tornados near Huntington Beach.

I'm off to Santa Barbara to revive my car, or shoot it and put it out of its misery. The trasmission crapped out. It is under warranty, as this transmission was just put in in April, also known as 5000 miles ago.

For those of you keeping track at home, Steve may win the car bet after all. We both purchased our cars within a few months of each other four years ago. Steve paid $500 cash for Bill Daly's '90 Toyota Celica. He has driven it into the ground, showing it very little love or maintenace. It rattles when you drive it at 55mph. One might refer to it as "a beater," but out of respect, I never would.

I bought a gently used '91 Honda Accord from a dealer. Always changed the oil, did the maintenance schedule religiously, kept the inside clean, parked it the garage. I finally paid it off in September. And this is how it behaves.

I am so ready for 2004 to end. No really.

I'm driving east through The Valley yesterday afternoon, stuck in more than the usual traffic, as there is an accident right before the 101/134 split. (You know why it happens, you feel bad for all involved, but the bumper-to-bumper from this goes all the way back to freakin' Agora Hills where you got on, and it sucks royally)

I look over at the car next to me. It's a late model Range Rover-y Jeep thing with the vanity plate "MAASAI 1." As I slowly inch forward, I realize it is being driven by a Maasai Warrior. In full gear. Shaved head, face modifications, big ivory ring in his nose and a lip plate. He didn't look out of place driving the truck, only the truck should have been on the African plain. It was straight out of National Georgraphic or something. But it's Sherman Oaks.

I love LA.

I am very sore today. I went to a different yoga class yesterday, and I am very aware of my butt and my rib cage. The class (beginner level) is filled with ladies and gents who appear to be well into their 60's and 70's. And not hippy-dippy, skinny, tree-hugging vegetarians, but cruise-going, former smokers, doughy Jews of The Valley. Yet, Max and Mildred are holding "pigeon" and "fish" like yogis, and I am resorting to "child's pose" (aka this-doesn't-hurt) after 15 seconds. They are an inspiration.

In celebration of the elders of my people and the triumph of the Macabees, here is a little holiday flash animation for you to enjoy.

I hate when products drastically change their packaging or logo, especially when the product itself is staying exactly the same. "Joy" brand dishwashing liquid has done just that. The old bottle label had the "Joy" font. Even if you saw some other word in that font, in the back of your mind you would still think "Joy." I'm sure this is called branding or brainwashing or something, and I woulda thought the boys in marketing would be all up in there for that concept. I know Joy fazed out its signature yellow bottle long ago, but the font had stayed. The new label is so bland I thought Steve had bought some knock off store brand or something.

Is this a sign of getting old and stuck in my ways? My understanding, especially in the household product world, is that loyalty is secured early. I guess the new crop of young folks getting their own places and doing their own dishes for the first time like stupid swirly bland fonts. Joy figure old farts like myself will find the damn soap on the shelf no matter what because I like how it works and smells, and I already know from trial and error that the blue Palmolive crap sucks.

Finally had to go do laundry this week. Our new apartment doesn't have laundry facilities, so before moving, I did what seemed like 12 loads of laundry. Bath mats, curtains, every sock and shirt. But the inevitable time had come.

Our first try landed us at a Lucy's on Sunset. Lucy's is a chain of laundromats in LA that have Starbucks and Subway sandwich outlets inside. I know that going to the laundromat sucks at best, but Lucy's was particularly hard to take. Besides having an annoying money card system (instead of quarters) the noise level was particularly high. In addition to the regular noise of machines, children and spanish television, the Starbucks and the 3 smoke detectors beeping away their low battery status put it over the top. We vowed never to come back, but we committed to the evening.

Then the stand up comedy show started.

We just happend to go to the one place in town with a regular Wednesday stand up show. You may have seen it on Last Comic Standing or CNN. It has got to be the worst room to play in town. They stand in front of a public bathroom, most of the clientele does not speak english as a first language, and there are kids tearing around right in front of the mike. But it was a great show! No cover or two drink minimum, I'm in sweatpants, and getting my laundry done. The comics were all really funny. The hostess with the mostess, Christy Murphy, kept the show flowing. And watching the comics deal with the extra challenges of the environment added an element to their sets that you just don't get in a bar. We stayed until about 9:15, when our clothes were done. They changed my mind about going to Lucy's. I wonder if I could bring a thermos of cocktails?

We had a really awesome time on our trip. Paris is a great city. Our little flat was in the middle of everything, so we walked everywhere. We were able to get by with our limited French and the people were very nice to us. We ate Thanksgiving dinner at a Guatamalan restaurant near the Sorbonne. They had the whole traditional dinner going on. The place was packed, and the food was great. They didn't quite get the gravy- it was more "au jus" and then they put it on the salad, too. The other was the pumpkin pie. They sliced up the fruit and baked it into a tart, like it was pears. I have to admit I passed on that. We talked to our American waiter Jesse for a long time about the elections. He is from San Diego and studying in Paris. He was very excited to talk to a couple of liberals from SoCal.

I enjoyed watching French teevee. We only got a few local channels, and it was quite amusing. They have morning talk/news shows like we do, and they even have the Channel 5/KTLA version, with the stoopid banter, personalities (gay black guy, metrosexual cool hipster, slutty but witty hot chick) and puffy news stories. One morning, I saw metrosexual hipster visit an famous french actor's Crib and take a tour. They also have a version of Wife Swap, and it is exactly the same format as here, with one Hot Wife and one Fat Wife. I'm not sure where they found Fat Wife, as we didn't see any French folks who would be described any bigger than thick, portly or solid, but I saw two episodes and the both had a Fat Frenchy. I guess suburbia is the same all over the world. They group all of their ads in time slots called "publicitie" and children's shows did not seem to have much at all. On that note, I was very aware that there are NO BILLBOARDS. None. No ads anywhere when you walk around. Shops have signs, and ads in their own windows, there are posters in the subways, and I think on the bus stop shelters, but that's it. It is very peaceful not to be bombarded with ads.

Besides Paris, we also took a little detour to London to visit our friends Sophie and Simon and their children Lottie and Rosanna. Rosanna is a newborn and Lottie is a charming and opinioned 3 1/2 year old. She kept correcting our American accents, "My name is Lauw-tee" and thought pinapple pizza was "Silly!" though she couldn't stop eating it. Steve really dug the pub on the rainy Sunday afternoon, and he and Simon played much Halo 2. Sophie and I have been friends for 17 years, and we don't get to see each other enough. We both just wept at the end of the weekend.

British Airways rocks. We were in coach, and had the best little boxed meals ever.

I could get used to living there very easily, but it is nice to be home. Blue skies, palm trees and balmy "winter" days have an appeal all their own.

Hi!

We are not dead.

We were in Paris. We meant to post a blog or two, but once we were there, it was just not a priority. It is a great and beautiful place, the people are nice and the food is amazing. We will get it together in the next few days to post some photos and tales of the trip. Big news? Steve popped the question at the Eiffel Tower, and I said, "oui!"

It is weird to plop back to regular life and have it be "The Christmas Season." Usually, at this time of the year I marvel about "where has this year gone?" and "it seems like it was just April!" and crap like that. I'm not having that experience. This year has been a really long year. A long fucking year.