I've got a week's worth of stuff to catch up on...

The Pirate Factory is chugging along- we go to 12.5/13 hour days next week. For those keeping track at home, when you go over 12 hours in a day it becomes double time. These very expensive labor costs. We couldn't get approved to work this past Saturday, so we are adding the extra hours during the week. In addition, the crazy british costume designer keeps "rewarding us" by sending us home an hour early. We know we should just take the money and run, but we can see the gigantic pile of hats that are backing up, and them telling me, "Don't worry, we'll get some of the costumers in here next week to do the simple repairs and alterations" doesn't make it better. Why aren't they doing the easy stuff in the first place then and not passing it off to our department? Not my problem...not my problem...

I had a seminal career moment this week. For the first time in fifteen years, the Armenian Ladies invited me to share coffee with them during their afternoon break. For anyone who works in costume shops and/or deals with the Armenian community, you can appreciate how far I have come. You can bet I said Yes!!

The George Forman Grill

Tim and Cyndi got us a George Forman grill and I have finally taken it out of the box and started using it the past few weeks. I was so impressed with it after its maiden voyage of chicken breasts, that I actually rearranged the precious little counter space we do have to have it LIVE ON THE COUNTER.

Then the crush was over. I did salmon next, and it was too dry. The next meal was hamburgers and I still followed the cooking guide. Well done hockey pucks. I realized then that I don't want all of the fat drained out of my meats, and that this grill may possibly have been created for people who don't actually know how to cook or know from well prepared food.

I am determined though, too many people in my life have raved about this product for everyone to be wrong. The key is to not follow the cooking guide, but cut the time in half. I did grilled vegtables and lamb chops in that manner and they were fab. Tonight, I will make bacon. I think it may be the most perfect bacon cooker- the press action will keep it flat, and bacon is something you want to drain the fat from.

The one thing I have started to notice though, is that "hot teflon" smell. They do not recommend you pre-heat teflon pans for too long or use high heat, but yet, you are supposed to pre-heat this grill for seven minutes, and there is no way to adjust the heat. It is either on or off.

Any grill advice out there?

English Cut is a blog I like to read. He's a schmancy Saville Row tailor in England. He no longer works on the actual Saville Row (rents being what they are) but he does write about the minutae of all things sewing in a way I find informative and entertaining. Today, his blog features a fellow tailor with a FULL BAR under his cutting table. You know, in the hole where everyone else puts tools, more fabric, your purse, a trash can, your knees, and boxes of crap you mean to look in later, this guy has a lovely cabinet filled with wine, spirits and glasses.

Friday night a bunch of us went over to Second City LA on Melrose to see Molly's Level Five Graduate show, Caucasian BBQ. Directed by my pal, Amy Seeley, and written by the class, it was hi-larious and crab-tastic. For only 5 bucks!

I got an email via this blog from an old friend from Jr and Sr High, Cheryl Hilton. Cheryl and myself provided "diversity" in our little white bread town. As the one black and one jew, together we were a Benneton ad. If Melissa Yoon had ever stood next to us, the school would have exploded. The three of us were never actually ever in the same room together.

I kid, but it really wasn't too far off from that.

The Pirate Factory is the next two movies about some pirates, based on a ride at an amusement park run by a rodent. The rodent has some sophisticated web browsing capabilities, and I'm a little paranoid about dishing about work and having someone get all up in my grill and shit. I just want the blog readers to know that I'm not working at some Halloween Costume Factory or something.

It is a costume shop just like any other-the stitchers and tailors are a hodgepodge of old and new world immigrants. This shop has 1 El Salvadorian, 1 Equadorian, and 2 Armenian ladies. And a mexican tailor named Leo. Leo is about 60, speaks very little english and is very, very nice. He also sports a moustache that he could charge 10 cents to ride.

I work with a guy named Joseph, who smokes. He went out for his break as usual this morning, but got called away for a fitting. He left his smokes outside my mistake, and when he got back they were gone. He couldn't believe someone would steal them, but thought maybe a delivery guy picked them up or something. Much later this afternoon, I was outside drilling 1000 holes into leather pieces when The Ladies came out for their break. They all begin smoking (which they don't) and giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen. They even get the little dumpy Armenian lady to light up. I though I was behind the junior high at lunch. These women are all in their 50's and beyond. The ringleader Gloria is in her 70's. I ask them where they got the cigarettes. They said they were on the table, and they had been smoking them all day. They said they were the snotty british costume designer's, and the show would just buy him more. He would never miss them. They couldn't believe he would just waste a full pack like that! When I told them they were actually Joseph's, their jaws all dropped, and we all started to laugh and laugh. Theda went in and got him, they all smoked another together, and their break must have lasted a half an hour. He wouldn't take any money. I bet they all load him down with homemade food for the next week!

BTW, you can drill holes into leather. Use a tile cutting bit. It looks like a round file. Smoke comes up from the hole like a brand, but the hole is clean and fast. Clean the drill bit often with a wire brush. Everyone told me it couldn't be done- screw them. 1000 holes in an hour and a half. It would have taken days and days with a mallet and a die cutter. I'll do another 1000 tomorrow.

Leo and Gloria also taught me a little tailoring trick which i can't believe I never did- you can sharpen the chalk with a razor blade. Duh. I just used them until they were stumps and threw them away or broke them in half. I still sharpen away half the chalk, but at least the edge is always clean and precise.

I had a somewhat crappy day at the Pirate Factory. Most of the day went fine, except I couldn't get the powers that be to look at my stuff so I could move forward. I did samples, I did repairs, I sorted and organized from 7am to 5:45pm. At 5:45pm they finally had enough time to look at my stuff, only to give feedback that creates many more hours of work, and they want to see it by noon tomorrow, oh, and go home at 6pm instead of 7:30pm. I don't know when they want the changes done. I'm going to just pull them out of my ass in the morning, I guess. I seem to keep a lot of finished projects in my ass.

On the way home I dropped $60 on random drill bits at OSH, because I can't seem to get the production shoppers to buy me my supplies in a timely fashion and I'm not allowed to use a computer at work to do research on what I might be able to use. If none of them work, I'm going to buy myself a $120 Craftsman table top drill press and charge a kit fee. We have to make over a 1000 holes in leather in three different little diameters. The top two layers of leather are like chewing gum. I don't want to use a die and mallet because it will take two weeks just to make the holes. But I bought a die anyway.

When I got home, Steve had cleaned the house until is shined like the top of the Chrysler Building and there was a box of funny wigs from my mom. We wore the wigs around for a while, and cracked each other up.

To put a capper on the evening, and take out whatever sparkle had finally started to twinkle again in my eyes, I found out that my old friend Ted Shell had passed away this morning. I hadn't seen Ted in a while, and did not even know he was sick. It doesn't really come as a surprise, as he really died around 1996, the year he finally, finally realized that the party that had been the 1970's was utterly and completely over. I plan to wear a sexy, colorful outfit to whatever memorial there is. He would have liked it that way.

Ted took me to Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles for the first time, and had some of the best and dishiest Hollywood gossip stories. Who knows where the truth ended and the bullshitting began, but he was always entertaining. Wherever you are Ted, I hope their are fabulous drag queens, scantily clad pool boys, and seconds on desserts. And dogs. Lots of puppies for you to pet and love.