SuBriSLABlogForLizette

Rooftop Droog 07/05/09

2009-07-23T20:17:00.000-07:00

It is Sunday, July 5. With a mild and coolish spring the city has started to turn sweaty late this year. But today you can get a first glimpse of what is to come soon: the blazing Southern California summer. The sun is trying its best to shine brightly through the milky haze, a concoction of leftover morning fog and smog. At noon the streets are unusually empty. Everybody had their big day yesterday and is now recovering from mad-man traffic congestion, over-crowded beaches, greasy burgers and mayonnaise laden pasta salads, one too many beers and a stiff firework-watching neck - Fools!
Not me;
I played it smart and safe this time.
I drive out west on Friday to stay over at Michael’s, we eat breakfast in - not out - on Saturday morning, catch up on the latest “Flight of the Concord”, have gelato and coffee at Ugo’s in quiet Culver City - both are of the very decent kind - before we head out to the beach at around 5pm. Leaving just before the night time fireworks start, I drive into the downtown ones on the way home, make it back to Sierra Madre by 10:30 and, snoozing away an hour later, I wake up rested for our Sunday downtown LA rooftop pool extravaganza.

We are atop the Standard hotel in downtown LA.
Drinks are averagely expensive but the food is decent and relatively decently priced: forget about the mini burgers, just go for the tasty grilled cheese sandwich + fries. The Standard as a hotel is an odd ball; semi- trendy and trashy at the same time.
One finds nicely designed metal plates next to plywood panels in the elevators, the superb chill-out waterbeds next to the pool are covered by tacky red plastic cocoons and in-between very comfy nicely colored couches one will spot the odd yellow plastic chair and a lot of fake grass.
Michael hits it when he says: “It looks like they had the right ideas and swanky intensions but did not quite follow through to the very end.” I reply: “Maybe it should be called the Half –Ass Hotel?”.

Droog are three LA based DJs who have been around a few years now, usually playing in the Honey lounge right next to and belonging to Avalon, a stereotypic Hollywood club. They recently started their own record label “Culprit”. Their monthly Sunday, 1 - 9 pm, rooftop parties have been gaining popularity and are very well attended.
The name of their game is techno, house and anything in-between. It is a unique blend of campy vocal, deep and funky house that tends to lean toward the minimal side of things at times. I have not found the perfect Britta-music-descriptor yet. Maybe it should go something like this: cheese-ball-grooving?
Very dancable it is for sure.
What I hear today is not my favorite music by far but it is indeed the perfect lazing-on-a-Sunday-afternoon-by-the-pool kind of deal. And, clearly, that is what we and about 15o other people are about to do.

Apart from the music, there is another very substantial fun factor: your fellow dancers.
This one is a little trickier to navigate especially if you are a person that is easily offended by total asses disguised as your fellow humans. Prime example is the pool party douche bag that we encountered first thing in the lobby after paying our $10 (with RSPV and before 3pm) dues. Now, douche bag clearly tore op the town last night, continued drinking throughout the morning and is now stumbling down the escalator to give his co-s a glassy look of confusion at their delay caused by the security guard. To my dismay, they are all let through to continue drinking themselves stupid. The smarmy ticket guy at the entrance gave us a full head to toe muster to see if we were worthy of passage. You’d think we were trying to enroll in the army. I guess we had passed preliminaries when he was using all his self-imagined grandios-ity to wave us into the lobby. We were just short of dropping to our knees to show our gratefulness. Thank you, oh mighty ticket master overlord …
This was not looking good: all out of all humans encountered so far were of the worst kind. If the law of averages were to hold today, this party was going to be full of tools and pompous idiots.
But once we land on the roof, the Dooms Day sky brightens: this is a nicely mixed crowd: a bunch of Normals, some Hollywood hipsters, some hipsterer Hollywoodsters, one hippie (+ me which makes two of us), a couple of Pam Andersons and a relatively small contingency of above mentioned d-bags.
You may wonder what exactly category 2 and 3 are, especially if you are an out-of-towner.
The Hollywood LA-er is a trendy one. Unlike its scruffy clothed and unshaven Silverlake equivalent, this Northwestern counterpart comes clean, creamed and gel-ed. The wardrobe leans toward color coordination rather than colorfulness. In most male cases, the main attraction is a grand hair: there are LUSes (Locks of Unusual Size) and slick, thick comb-overs;
All length of hair on one head and the occasional white man fro . One notable thing: usually the Hollywood men are the eye candy while the run-of-mill girls fade bleakly next to their fabulous boyfriends.

We settle on one of the comfy sofas close to the dj setup and away from the tool ridden pool. The dance floor is small but nice, the sound system leaves a lot to be desired but at least these guys know not to crank it up into the red like so many others of their kind. We enjoy a couple of cocktails, chat and I even get a dance leg swinging for a minute or two. We leave shortly after sunset. All in all a very enjoyable Sunday.

Peru-sed and Inca-ed

2009-06-04T10:50:00.000-07:00

Our Peru Trip in a Britta nut shell:
(Please add your own "Peru trip in a ... nutshell")

-- Machu Picchu view from Huayna Picchu, no comment :-):

-- A brief history of the Peruvian Cypress tree by Lizette (freely translated from the Spanish account given by our lovely taxi driver Mario):

"When the Jews crucified Jesus, there was a big escape of some sort and then, somehow, the trees come into play." ... The end ...

P.S. a google (not yahoo) search reveals the "Peruvian Cypress" to be a Poplar tree:

-- VistaDome train (AC to Otown) entertainment:

Peruvian traditional dance performed by a scarily masked dude with fake pet lama dangling from his back. Passengers were encouraged to pet...

Followed by

...the world famous Alpaca fashion show; super modeled by our two train conductors and a gringo tourist; backgrounded by a "If you're going to San Francisco" remix ...
Then, suddenly and unprecedented, Speegs is diverted from his bathroom route roped in an Alpaca sweater and pushed onto the aisle, aka, runway to partake in this fashion extravaganza extraordinaire...

(picture evidence to appear here shortly)

-- English translations on Peruvian menues:

"Skipped a strong fire, Potatoes, Rice and Onions"

"... with valley homeys"

"Bifstek to the poor"

"Fussili to the pesto"

-- Speegs favorite jewish moment in Cusco restaurant "El gusto es nuestro":

... After being taught this Korean after dinner tradition, everyone shouts "Mansai" with raised arms after finishing the main course; our Lima-an waitress/owner calls back "Mazel Tov" ...

Coachella 2009, April 17, 18, 19

2009-05-13T16:07:00.000-07:00

Snip bits from attendees:

Greg:
"My funny moment was realizing after I woke up at midnight (after 8
hours sleep) on Sunday and missed my second of three days of actual
Coachella that the Advil I took at 3 was Advil PM! That and a new
found love of playing with DJ equipment. Miss you Lizette!"

Kurt:
"Well, you can tell her that we didn't have a hobbit cave under a waterfall for her this year, which was a disappointment.

My highlight was the same as every year: getting to spend time with (almost) all of my favorite people in the whole world! Musically, MSTRKRFT rocked the house and Crookers were fun too. The rest is a little hazy :-)

I promise to put up pics soon..."

Susan:
"Walking into the Sahara and hearing the Crookers and thinking "I've never heard this type of music before". :)"

Britta liked it best when Speegs said:
"Yeah, we definitely need to coordinate out Bart Simpsons."
...which, btw, never happened...

Still waiting for others to chime in...

Mnt Wilson all the way!

2009-04-12T10:40:00.000-07:00

After Brentt hinting several times that he wanted to climb Mnt. Wilson all the way up to the observatory, we finally did it yesterday!
Being all smart and German about it, I suggested leaving at dawn to tackle this 14 mile round trip, 4576 ft elevation gain hike.
This would enable us to
1)enjoy the sunrise on the trail
2)prevent Skin 'N Bones from heat stoke and dehydration anticipated with a later start
3)give me a chance to check out the terrain of the Mnt. Wilson trail race to be run by a Britta the day before leaving for Peru to see you, L !!!
and
4) give us enough time to sunbathe and rest at the top, enjoying the home made by me(and delicious I may add in self praise)sandwiches.
So, we dressed sort of lightly, packed a shit load of water after learning a lesson, almost running out at our last hiking adventure and headed out into the sunrise.
The sun rose all right but not for us to see. We rose with it and into the morning fog. In fact, we were racing the clouds all the way to the top.
At times the sun would show through the thick carpet of white and we would stop and try and soak up some rays and warm our chilly bones.
The foggy mountain views were stunning and we were reminded of how things may look and feel at this hour of morning in some far away land like Tibet or on top of the Chilean Andes. We would stop at times to awe the view, stay as long as we could without starting to shiver.
Immensely underdressed and over watered we reached the gates of the observatory by 9:45, just in time for the 10am opening. We tried our best to warm in the hazy sun but by ten the last ray had totally vanished behind a grey wall of mist.
Brentt's remainder of hair that was sticking out from under his hood, was sprinkled with morning dew. It took us about 20 minutes to figure out that there was no heated shelter on the grounds of the observatory. All we could find was an astronomical museum room and an observatory visitor room that featured a glass window allowing a peak into the inner workings of the telescope. Both rooms were as cold as the outside and after a hasty glance or two we headed on as to not stop moving and freeze to death. We wolfed down a couple of sandwiches and, without rest, started the descent hoping for warmer climates. They came about three quarters down but by that time my coffee headache was at its climax and all I could think about is rooting my tired bum in one of the comfy couches at bean town, the local coffee shop, and sip on my Mocha loaded with extra whipped cream.
Brentt pulled a great stunt at one of the rock drops, not hurting his hip too much but landing pretty hard on it, ensuring me almost instantly that he was all right. How did he know so soon, I wondered?
The funny thing was that he started screaming "Auuuh" before he even landed and once I knew he was alright, I had to chuckle. He said he felt his foot slipping and was anticipating the hurt that was to follow.
We made it down without any further incidences and I did get to lounge on the sofa, Mocha in hand, by 3 pm.
Our bones were tired and the muscles a little sore and we did not get to have a sunny picnic up the top, but, all in all, the day was a success. If anything, we deserve more praise having the cudos to brave the elements for 8 hours straight!

Spring in LA in pictures

2009-03-25T18:42:00.000-07:00

Jesus lord, talk about blog slackers...
Well, it is now the end of March, the mountains are green with grass full of flowers, mainly those yellow buggers that make me sneeze as if I had caught two flus at once.

So what's new?

Item 1: Michael and Amy are now literally an item so they may as well be item 1

Britta is a non-item once again, what's new here :-)

Ayren celebrated her 30th

Brentt is on his way to become the biggest super nerd ever

Cassanna is trying to stand up a jewelry business

We are still at it at large

We can't wait to whup your ass at Sapo :-)

NYE in San Fran

2009-01-13T19:03:00.000-08:00

Man, that town knows how to do it!!!
And we did, too. Despite the fact there were so many of us, things went down quite smoothly: I arrived 30 mins late from Europe, jet lagged and carrier of the fattest German killer flue that I eventually passed on to about 5 people all together. Art arrived late also and the planned dinner did not quite happen. But we did meet up, all there, ready to party, before midnight at the DJ Dan party.
After that we chilled at Ty's place for a little, well, some people chilled for a little more but Ty, Mark, Brentt, Speegs and I made it for the 6am start of "Breakfast for champions", the coolest urban party I've ever been to. Space Cowboys throw this one every year and just about anyone cool comes out. Place is packed with sexy people, music booty-shakin style of the finest kind and the place jams from 6am to 2am. We lasted till 3pm. By that time Kurt, Samina, James and Art had joined us. Back to Ty's to chill once more and a final run at CoComos, deep house of the good kind (who knew there was such a thing?). Well, I had a blast and I suspect everybody else did, too!

Happy Holidays

2008-12-24T13:06:00.000-08:00

I'm heading off to Phoenix tomorrow for a Jewish-filled Holiday with candles, latkes and other tasty treats. So I thought I'd wish a very merry Christmas, happy Hanukah and cheery New Year to everyone. We're on three continents right now (Lizette in South America, Britta in Europe and Me in North America) but still the Trio love lives.

Lizette, enjoy Christmas in Peru! Glad all the pre-holiday events went well!

The nature of travel

2008-12-22T01:21:00.000-08:00

After being gone for over ten years, visiting occasionally to catch up with family, my country doesn’t seem to be my country anymore. It is an odd feeling altogether, everything seems so familiar yet everything is strange to me now.
I still feel home here but in a disconnected way. I know how German works but I do not work German anymore.
Each visit becomes a great philosophical journey.
Now that I have an outside vantage point I can observe objectively, amazed and fascinated by the culture that I was a part for the first 22 years of my life.
At the same time I can reflect on the society that I belong to now. Listening to my friends, by passers on the streets, people in coffee shops sipping their Milchkaffee, discussing life, I get an outside view on my American me. I get so startled by the lack of insight or critical thinking I observe in myself at times. I find it frightening when I notice myself oversee vital arguments that I should have made when we talked this over months ago at home.
This really is the beauty of travel: it gives you the opportunity to shed day to day life and habits, enables you to step out of old patterns and gain new insights on yourself, your life and the society you live in as well as the society you are temporarily part of on your passage.

On a lighter note, there are the small scale oddities in behavior and action, mostly charming, that one encounters on travel:
Like Lizette marvels at the ordeal of facing a 5-locked South American door, Europeans find it extremely odd that the American check is put, quite indiscreetly, on the table just minutes after the main course arrives.
It is a well known fact that the Germans get up at the crack of dawn to throw their towels on the deck chairs of the hotel pool, thereby supposedly reserving the seat, returning after a follow up snooze and breakfast to claim their prime real estate, finding a bunch of pissed off Brits standing by the pool for lack of available seating.
The number of greeting cheek kisses in France is three, in Italy two (or the other way around - I will never learn, forgive me France and Italy), Germans don’t kiss at all, Irish hug. The list goes on...

On my last visit here I learned that Germans are immune to fatness. Paul and I made it our hobby to count the number of pastry eating Germans at any given time. It came out to about 80% of Germans snacking away their day. But hardly anybody is overweight, probably because everybody is walking everywhere. Walking is big here.

Evidence is hardening that the service industry is not about service in (North) Germany. I have been suspecting this for years dealing with extremely unfriendly sales personnel in stores, rude waiters and difficult public transport vehicle operators like bus drivers.
When I was a kid I was convinced that the local tram driver was determined to overtake the tram ahead of him.
On this visit, I learned that taxi business is not about taxiing:
If your ride is in any way walkable, think twice before hitting dial on your phone!!
They may ask you straight away where you are and where you are heading and if they deem your ride not worthy the comfort of a hired automobile on this frosty night because you may make on foot, they will eat you right there, lecturing you on the atrocity of your humble request: How dare you even think about wasting their precious time, have you no sense at all? Just because they get paid for it doesn't mean they need to take your shit. Clearly, you should chose to struggle your way home manually in the oncoming blizzard after a hard days work (ok, that's my sister, not me)!! This is an outrage, an insult at large to the very core of taxihood!!!
And if they don't ask you right away, god help you deal with the monster of a cab driver that you will have on your hands when he finds out where you are trying to get him to take you.
He may just tell you to get lost and speed off into the dark, shouting abuse out of the window, manically honking his horn in much exaggerated anger.

Now, that did not happen at all to us last night. Indeed, we chatted to a lovely lady filling us in on the latest Hamburg celebrity gossip.
But just the fear on my sisters face, phone in hand, ready to dial a cab, told me that things could have taken a different turn...
Seems to me that services here try their best not to provide the service they boldly claim to offer.

And how I love it all :-)

Germans BeGone

2008-12-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

This morning I dropped Britta off at the Flyaway bus in Westwood that will take her to LAX. So for the next two weeks we'll be German-free! Britta will be home in Rostock, refreshing her impatience, organizational skills and other German qualities, so we'll be seriously in trouble when she returns.

Until then, I'm in charge of this blog! Muahahahahahahahaha! Let the zaniness begin!

Sat night at the Getty

2008-11-23T15:01:00.001-08:00

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Woah, I am not feeling my writing vibe today:
nice sunset in the staff quarters (for quietness sake), cheese, bread and trimmings for dinner overlooking the west side of town, fog rolling in and the night sky looking somewhat like a Aorora Borealis, fine company and fine art...

Art Walk Pics

2008-11-23T14:50:00.000-08:00

BUSTED!! (Nov 15)

2008-11-20T21:01:00.000-08:00

Mid November in LA, it is 20 degrees above average and the fires are raging. As we are nearing downtown, we can see the thick cloud of smoke rising above Orange County.
Brentt and I are on the way to Linkoln Park’s largest thrift store to meet up with Michael and Amy who have been protesting the passing of a controversial proposition of the last presidential election.
After shouting things like: “Hey hey, ho ho, that bigotry has got to go” for the past two hours they are now ready for retail therapy. Michael needs shirts and I am glad to provide second hand guidance, he is a first timer and this is my territory.
Three hours, two thrift stores, three shirts and a pair of pants later we are back home for pasta dinner and a chill out before heading out into LA underground night life.

Downtown LA is littered with warehouses, perfect venues for noisy after hour parties. Tonight’s is an old time favorite with the trio, not so much for the music but for the people and the vibe they bring.
I say: “Music super cheesy but quirkyness levels of attendees unsurpassed. Entertainment value: excellent”.
Myke says: “Music awesome but pretentious “Burner” vibe puts downspin on fun”.
Just goes to show, flavors are a matter of taste.
The four of us get there just in time for the party to liven up. We find hiding spots for our coats, go to the bathroom, look at the two huge snakes in the terrarium under the bar and start dancing… blinded by the bright ceiling lights that just went on when the music went off and about 10 police officers start walking around telling everyone to clear out.
Ah well, if you charge a bunch of costumed hip(pies)ters to get into a warehouse without liquor license intending to serve such up to all illegal hours you gotta count on being busted as one possible outcome…
Not tired we head to my old hood for a night time walk with view of down town.
Back at home, we relax in the kitchen with some chai and good talking until finally, tiredness sets in...

Sunday serves a lovely scrambled egg breakfast, well Britta does, a lot of coffee and more sitting around, this time in the shaded beautiful yard.
Conversation topics range far and include world politics, depression, sickness and disease, the meaning of life
and
an actual interview for the position of mini Asian:
The interviewers Dr. Spiegelman, Prof. Newman and Ms Daudert are impressed by the ambition and determination of the interviewee, Ms Goodwin. She proves to have recent experience in racial portrayal, taking on the task of being Mexican for a summer. She also willing to look hungrily at passing dogs and train hard to start hating carrots and mushrooms.
The panel decided to offer a temporary internship to the candidate with a re-evaluation for a full-time position of Brit-Nerd, scheduled at the time of return of the real( and really irreplaceable) mini Asian.

Downtown Art Walk

2008-11-18T22:06:00.000-08:00

This past Thursday we decided to go to the art walk downtown. We (Ayren, Eric, Cassanna, Lindha, Souri, Britta, Susanne, Amy [our English Lizette replacement] and I ) met at Susanne's place downtown, had wine and cheese and then set off to the art walk, which is just a short walk from Susanne's loft, with Brentt meeting us along the way. Amazingly enough, when we got there, the streets were PACKED, and with hipsters rather than homeless people. We meandered among the streets, darting into different galleries and cafes to check out the art, and being entertained by singing drag queens in one of the spaces (and they were pretty talented!).

The best thing we found was a table set with marshmellows, chocolate sauce, strawberries and bananas. You could eat the food with a camera trained on you that projected your mouth eating up on a big screen so everyone could watch. Britta and Amy volunteered me to do it, so I obliged. I'm sure it was incredibly SEXY!!!

After the art walk we wandered back to Susanne's and ate a tasty yet random dinner of Chinese food, Ayren's famous pasta salad, tasty German cookies and other delightful things, accompanied by more wine. We hung out for a bit more, then escorted Britta back to her car through a thicket of homeless men, and headed home.

A nothing weekend

2008-11-12T20:41:00.000-08:00

A Speegly needed cheering up after an extremely rough week at work, a social hike and a dinner were canceled and a Britta supered her way out to the west side for some irratable jew handling on Saturday afternoon.
Finally, the Jew could retaliate and pay back with some prime moodiness and the German was ready to be at the receiving end for once after all those friends-to-the-rescue-when-Britta-in-mess moments of the last year.
So, the German and the Jew spend one of the most uneventful weekends together. In the words of the Spiegel:

"So as far as I can remember, here's what we did this weekend: ate an overly expensive dinner and breakfast, got mild food poisoning, drank wine, didn't get enough sleep and sat around watching television. And yet somehow I had a lot of fun. It's great that we can go out to party together and have a great time, but in a way it's even better that we can do absolutely nothing and STILL have a really good time. "
...
Sometimes doing nothing is doing all...

Dia de los muertos

2008-11-02T14:15:00.000-08:00

It's Halloween weekend.
It's raining, raining buckets, finally.
Brentt, Myke, Bones and I are sitting in the car at the trail head trying to decide whether to wimp out or get soaked. We go for option two and start our hike up Bailey Canyon. It's gorgeous, with views onto downtown, century city and even the ocean when the sun decides to poke a weary ray through the thick carpet of clouds to reflect on the water for a second.

Thai noodles for dinner, quick snooze on the sofa for Myke and we are off to Hollywood to honor the dead in a Mexican fashion.

“… is a holiday celebrated mainly in Mexico and by people of Mexican heritage (and others) living in the United States and Canada The holiday focuses on gatherings of family and friends to pray for and remember friends and relatives who have died…”

The venue is the Hollywood forever cemetery,
“…the final resting place to more of Hollywood’s founders and stars than anywhere else on earth. Founded in 1899, the cemetery was an integral part of the growth of early Hollywood. Paramount Studios was built on the back half of the original Hollywood Cemetery, where the studio is still in operation today.”

Getting there is a bitch because it is Hollywood. Parking there is a bigger bitch because it is Hollywood. And if you happen to be vegetarian like Myke, the biggest bitch is walking Santa Monica Blvd towards the cemetery gate because it is a Mexican holiday. As such, naturally, it calls for Hispanic street vendors, tightly packed along the side walk, one after the next, desperately trying to sell their dried up Mexican hot dogs. And if it’s not smelly hot dogs, it’s glow sticks and even pacifiers. What are rave toys doing at a grave yard party??
Anyway, the line into the cemetery is moving fast and for $5 you get to see a whole load of private, mostly very intricately build and involved altars, a bunch of latin shows on various stages throughout the park, street parades with weirdly costumed dancers and, a regular at any public event: vending, a lot of it, too.
It’s always about shopping. Shopping and eating.
Well, there is the cemetery to look at. If you go, find Johnny Ramones grave.
It is so cheesy as to reverse back to cool…

Primordial Grooves 10-25

2008-11-02T10:51:00.000-08:00

The magic …

…is the Mojave desert on a cloudless night followed by a cloudless day, separated by a spectacular sunrise. If you looked carefully, you could see any shade of color ever seen in a sunrise.

And, let’s not forget about the meteor shower and the beautiful and very yellow sickle moon rising at 4:24 am according to David (I just hope I got this time right)!

The magicians

I’ll cover my bases first (as if I had any): if I forget to mention anybody/thing mentionable, please forgive me (reminder: memory= flimsy). I will accept strongly worded letters starting tomorrow for a limited time only.

Andrew, Armando, Gabriel: “It was so good, even Britta liked it”. Thank you for the music, the line-up, even more, the line-up timing. You are awesome! I’ll always be your super-groupie unless you stop having fun. Which you never will.

Treavor, I heard about the mt times when the dj managed to drop just at the time when the first ray touches your face. Couldn’t have been a better time for me to see it!

I am gonna stop naming names here and just say to all others: thanks for awesome music, I danced my a… off.

Rob, as always, Mr.VJ-tastic. That was quite an impressive show!

I was thinking of a DJ booth in the car, I came to find Greensector’s decos, shade, tikis and even some

stallagtites disguised as penises!!

Next thing I’ll do is get some extra $$ out of the bank because these guys did not even break even.

The audience

Well behaved, well rounded, well everything! What more can I say other then:

You are amazing. Thank you all for taking me away, letting me let loose and finally get things in perspective again.

It’s not only the desert, it’s really mainly you all being out there being yourselves. The desert is dessert, you are the main course!

Wow, hold on, this is me being cheesy, scary?

But, …

… 10 minus point for not bringing a hatchet to crack the breakfast coconut!!!

What a crime. Pretty much ruined my weekend. Thanks for nothing duuudes J

10-19, Sunday fun in Venice

2008-10-22T13:09:00.001-07:00

Well, it was one of those relaxing Sundays: lunch, walk the board walk, more food, coffee.
Here are some pics to prove it.

All of Us in San Diego

2008-10-13T22:32:00.000-07:00

We miss you Lizette! Here's a picture of us in San Diego a couple of weeks ago, the end of a long and fun-filled weekend. Obviously we are one small Asian short of a really good time, but it was still lots of fun.

Guess who's who!

2008-10-08T13:55:00.000-07:00

It's the first bi-weekly mid-week potluck get together without Lizette.

As we are sitting here in Britta and Nancy's magic garden, eating our favorite childhood foods, Bones licking every one's feet, Norton chomping away on some Swiss chard, the Sierra Madre "squirrels" chomping away on the living room furniture, coyotes howling in the hills...
we are wondering if you, Lizette, may already have started forgetting about us?
So, we devised this little test to test your true devotion to us.
Each one of us will write one sentence and you will have to guess who's here tonight and who's who.
Here we go:

1) Mmmh, Christmas Jew. If only it were Christmas...
2) I didn't bring my own childhood favorite food but I brought Britta's favorite dish: myself!
3) Burning Man would have been better if we had pickles!
4) There's no drum n bass on this computer. None!! What's up with that?
5) OH.MY.GOD. You are such a good embellisher.
6) You are not my type either.
7) Whoa! Something happened!
8) Ibi mibiss yibou.
9) I didn't bring my own childhood favorite food but I brought Lizette's favorite dish...!

Here we go...

2008-10-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

For you, Lizette,
I will overcome my blogaphobia and deliver to you, for rainy days and nostalgic moments,

SuBrisLABlogForLizette.