Wood the real Norweigan please stand up?

Now I think I'm seeing our Norweigan-with-an-identity-crisis everywhere. I went out here tonight and could've sworn the guy three seats down from me was the man in question. And this is why I'm probably wrong that I actually know this person. Every damn relatively attractive hipster dude kinda looks like him. Same brown mop and coifed facial hair. I had to stare him down to realize that his eyes were too close together to be la vraie chose.

In obvious blog news, I finally changed up the font to something that's actually legible (Why didn't anyone say anything?) and added linkies to some of my favorite grrl bloggers. Read them, love them. Two of them I know personally and can vouch that they are super hot. The other two I'm just assuming.

Norwiegan Wood you please tell me who you are?

Group question: Who is this actor? The one who plays the son in this commercial. Because I swear I know him somehow. Yes, I realize that commercial actors are all supposed to be vaguely familiar to us so we can, like, relate to them and then feel the need to buy the product or whatever, but I promise it's not that. It isn't highly improbable that we've crossed paths in this LA commercial casting world. Can someone please help a girl out? I've watched it like thirty times trying to place the connection. And yes, maybe I've just seen him in something else and am not remembering what it was, in which case, I'll feel like a dumb-dumb for making a federal issue out of it. Although that wouldn't be the first time for that kind of thing.

And for the record, I think this commercial is a little on the old side, but I just discovered it last night while watching The Bachelor: London Calling on my Macbook while I ate dinner last night. Because that's the kind of thing a hot, young, single LA girl like myself does on a Tuesday evening while supping. Just checks on in with Chris Harrison and the gang. It's okay to be jealous of my glamorous lifestyle.

I bet these men are getting mad mailbox money for this one.

My kind's your kind, I'll stay the same.

This weekend was perfect. I cooked a little, rocked a little and wrote a lot.

Yes, Rock Band was back in effect and it was dreamy. It felt gold to belt out Miss Karen O's "Maps" and knock some Oasis out the park. I noticed my avatar scowls a bit more than I do and dresses like a hard ass, but the hair is spot on. I still like her.

Typical face.

My face when I'm not properly hydrated.

It's a gas

At last! Gas price outrage and interweb acronyms have joined forces. It's art that resonates, people. LMAO!!!

For those of you about to fake rock

After the cruel wait I've suffered this past month, I am finally reunited with my one true joy in life: ROCK BAND.

Can you see the green nails? So rock and roll to color coordinate.

Also this week my mom confessed she found my blog a while ago and is a quiet, avid reader. Tricky mom! So I will publicly thank her for sending me the most comfortable shoes my feet have ever seen. They don't understand how they suddenly got so lucky.

I take back all those nasty things I said about orthopedic footwear.

Yes, it's been an awesome week in mail.

Rockstars LOVE mail and orthopedic shoes.

Visuals to come. You are all invited to be my groupies.

Summer of Surprises

It's getting hot in LA. We still have our breathable days, but the other day I opened my car door and thought perhaps I'd entered into some giant oven in the sky and I was a live, squirming piece of meat shoved into it. Summer seems to be coming early, because it usually doesn't get really bejesusly hot until July and August, and then unless you permanently take up residence on the sand or become a merperson, you begin to think you wish you lived in a place with seasons so we didn't get so punished for five to six weeks for not having to suffer through winter. But then September comes and you laugh at people buying winter clothes and you forget all about that time you wanted to die a month earlier.

But it does remind me of what I love about summer. Themes! Okay, themes run rampant everywhere in my life, including daily wardrobe choices, but summer brings out the grand themer in me. Each summer I get unnecessarily enthusiastic about one particular thing and proclaim that I'm going to make it the common thread that I sew through every day of summer. It somehow makes summer feel more festive now that I'm an adult and don't have actual summer vacations.

Here's a look back at some of the highlights:

Summer of White 2003

This is not actually from the Summer of White. But I am wearing white. In a white room. Looking especially white.

Ah, Summer of White. The inaugural summer. The year the first Paradise Hotel ruled my television set, and the summer I lived with my best friend Melissa in a cool loft building with a pool. We'd come home from our boring jobs and make blended alcoholic drinks and talk about Paradise Hotel in our pool. It was a glorious summer. And I made the conscious decision to wear white practically every day. It was a good look. I felt bright and clean and fresh and it had a nice effect on my psyche. The boring job I held that summer was managing a small Pilates studio and one time the massage therapist complained someone used the washing machine for their own laundry and she'd known it wasn't me because nothing in there was white. That's when I knew Summer of White had made it's mark. A tradition had begun.

This summer was subtitled Summer of Shout, because I'm a mad spiller, and white is probably not the best thing to wear everyday when you are me.

Summer of Mint 2005

More theory than praxis.

This was a particularly strong theme in my opinion, but unfortunately it never took off. Mint is so refreshing, so cooling, it's a perfect summer theme. At the beginning of summer I had high ambitions that I was always going to have a pitcher of chilled mint water at all times in my refrigerator, as well as find exotic recipes that included mint, if only as a garnish. But it never gained momentum. I am still a huge huge fan of all things minty, so this will be revisited at a later date.

Summer of Avocado 2006

No. You are.

Summer of Avocado could also be called Summer of Guacamole, because I consumed probably a gallon a week of that Mexican delicacy. I was supremely dedicated to this theme and have actually never abandoned it. I still consume about a gallon of guacamole a week. But this was the summer that really put it on the map. It's the time when I wasn't afraid to stand up and say, "Hey. Avocado. I love you. Let's make this last."

I have also long held the belief that if I were a fruit, I would be an avocado.

So sweating and choking on smog, this week I began thinking about this summer's theme and realized it could very well be this:

Contender for Summer of 2008 Theme

My subzero on a happy day.

My diet has become 80% delicious, exciting drinks from Whole Foods. I used to be a water drinker. I felt that was all I needed and didn't understand the fuss of sodas, iced teas, et al. But now, NOW! I live to have my top shelf filled to the brim with new and novel beverages from high-end organic retailers. Notice there are no Sprites, no Snapples. This is an urbane, evolved exploration of the daytime drink. I love opening the door and seeing a rainbow of elixirs. Some healthy, some sugary, some calming, some caffeinated. I might just be willing to embrace this as my summer love, but it's still too early to call it. Especially when there are massive changes afoot.

Because on a bittersweet note, this is officially the last month with the subzero, truly the Cadillac of refrigeration devices. I'll be moving on at the end of May and taking my cornucopia of beverages with me. I'll miss the Silver Lake hipster shed, but I have high hopes that something marvelous is around the corner. The spring changes are giving birth to a summer of new and the theme is yet to come.

Hotbox my inbox

Below is an email exchange from this weekend, which proved that while pot smokers tend to be forgetful, they easily find humor in said forgetfulness.

***************************
from: My Friend
date: Sun, Apr 27, 2008 at 10:30 AM
subject: forgive me!

I NEVER HAVE DONE THIS EVER IN MY INTERNET LIFE. I am forwarding a link to a page which VERY EASILY forwards a letter to your state representative regarding DECRIMINALIZING PERSONAL MARIJUANA USE.

Whether or not you are a midnight toker, the legalization and taxation of marijuana alone would be enough to fund a national healthcare system. Or improve school systems, social programs or would be instrumental in LOWERING YOUR TAXES. This is a win-win-win.

California has made HUGE strides toawrds decriminalization, now is the first time this serious momentum has been put into action. PLEASE go to this link - it takes 10 seconds - and forward a letter supporting decriminalization.

Or risk getting a phone call from me in the middle of the night asking you to help bail me out. And horizontal stripes do not flatter me. Have mercy.

Much Love - hope all's well.

***************************

from: Lady Sensation
to: My Friend
date: Sun, Apr 27, 2008 at 11:36 AM
subject: Re: forgive me!

girl, i don't know if you're making an argument for smoking less weed, but you're gonna have to include the link if you want us to help you out.

***************************
from: My Friend
to: Lady Sensation
date: Sun, Apr 27, 2008 at 11:45 AM
subject: Re: forgive me!

OMG!
that is hilarious!!

hahahahahahaha!

***************************

from: My Friend
to: Lady Sensation
date: Sun, Apr 27, 2008 at 5:45 PM

i think you should post that whole exchange in your blog. I'm dying.

Point taken, 'little miss fully functioning brain cells'

!

xo

***************************

I may go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, but I wouldn't say fully functioning. My brain cells are goin' down, too. I just prefer to crush mine slowly by suffocating them with neurotic thoughts. It's my own brand of torture and I can hear them begging for mercy, wishing I just did drugs.

Speaking of pot humor, Pineapple Express actually looks hilary! Never one to find being stoned a punchline and growing a bit weary of the Apatow empire, I thought I was gonna steer clear of this one, but hey-o! Maybe it's the M.I.A. song or this James Franco individual (Where'd he come from?). But suddenly I'm loving the pot lovers.