I have always had a love affair with rain. When others were craving sunshine and hot days, I was wishing for wet weather. Something about it soothes me. Maybe it’s the sound, how it falls so effortlessly and fearlessly on my car, my window and on leaves. The allure of rain for me, is not just about the rain itself, but perhaps more about what it brings: sleep, comfort, woolly socks, a cup of warm tea, a snuggle, a blanket.
It washes away my thoughts and cleanses my head, along with the outside world it touches. For a while I thought I was alone in my love of rain, and most days I think I still am.
Then one rare day a couple weeks ago, the sky in Los Angeles turned grey and I could tell, I could just tell that it was mustering up all its energy to sprinkle some rain and clean the filthy streets and people of this city, but it didn’t quite have the strength to. So it retreated back and sunshine took over and I was back to feeling depressed about the weather again.
While it was grey though, a song came on the radio that confirmed my feelings: I was not the only one who loved rain. It turns out that Loudon Wainwright, father of Rufus Wainwright, likes gloomy days in Los Angeles just as much as I do. He likes them so much in fact, that he wrote a song about it:
When it’s grey in L.A. I sure like it that way
Cause there’s way too much sunshine round here
I don’t know about you I get so sick of blue skies
Whenever they always appear
And I sure love the sound of the rain pouring down
On my carport roof made out of tin
If there’s a flood then there’s gonna be mudslides
We all have to pay for our sin
And I suppose that they’ll close canyon roads
And the freeways will all start to clog
And the waters will rise and you won’t be surprised
When your whole house smells like your wet dog
When it’s grey in L.A. it’s much better that way
It reminds you that this town’s so cruel
Yeah it might feel like fun when you’re sportin’ sunglasses
But really you’re one more fool
You might remember this song if you’ve seen the film, “Knocked Up.” You can listen to it here.
I thought that discovering this song would be the last I would ever hear of anyone being devoted to rain as I am, until I started my daily website reading routine by going to the NY Times website, as I do every morning. A gem awaited me there, in the form of a written ode and a short film capturing the essence of it all.
Jeff Scher, a painter and experimental filmmaker filmed the rain trickling down on the balcony of his home, while his wife was fast asleep with one of his sons, with a Beaulie wind-up 16 mm. movie camera from the ’60s and film that was, as he says “at least 10 years out of date.” The music in the film and sound design is by Shay Lynch and adds such a touch of loveliness to the whole thing. Even though it’s only three minutes long, this film manages to capture the essence of rain so well. Watch “While You Were Sleeping.”
“The fleeting inverted image of the landscape in the raindrops as they swell from drop to drip is an optical phenomenon, but to me it’s pure magic,” writes Sher. “And then they form streams and pulse hypnotically like luminous quicksilver.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself. And let me tell you, not only is Jeff Scher awesome because he shares my affinity for rain, but he makes these incredible animated short films with amazing soundtracks. Case in point: Reasons to be Glad, which you can watch below.
I would love to be able to interview him for an article, while it was raining of course.
With the current disaster of a Metrolink train derailment that took place on Friday afternoon here in Los Angeles ( Chatworth, to be more specific) looming in my head, the events that currently have me in a sour mood are insignificant really, but they’re still affecting me more than I’d like them to, so here I am. 2:40 a.m. in the morning, writing.
On Friday afternoon, someone who shall rename nameless said a couple things to me at work that upset me enough that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them. Mainly that I “don’t go outside my house.”
In a normal situation, this type of comment (whose history regarding this incident is a bit of an enigma and too long to go into) would have rolled off my shoulders, never to be thought of again. When it comes to what I do or don’t do in my social life, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I haven’t ever since I have had a legitimate social life. Because, frankly, not only is it no one’s business, but I enjoy myself and the company I keep no matter what I’m doing.
But I suppose this wasn’t a normal situation, because it was in front of other work colleagues and was said in a very ill-meaning manner. I kinda went blank when I heard it and only responded with a long delayed “ok.”
I debated saying something, but at the moment, I was too choked up and pissed off to even speak. Plus, I was in no mood to get into an argument on a Friday. So I brushed it off, like the civil person that I am.
I honestly feel no desire at all to justify my private life to anyone, especially someone at work. My idea of a good time is a far cry from what anyone my age would typically consider the ‘cool’ or ‘in’ thing to be doing and I like it better that way. I don’t spend my weekends getting drunk at clubs or bars, in fact, I find this type of behavior quite repulsive. I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, I’d rather spend time with Henry any day over socializing with people on superficial levels. And while I do love to spend my free time knitting, painting, sewing, traveling and watching Bollywood films, I do much more outside of work, than most people that I work with.
I don’t stop working when I get home. If I’m not editing and writing posts for the ezine that I work for, I’m out attending movie screenings and covering other events. If I’m not writing in this blog, I’m developing and getting ready to launch a website I’m currently working on. If I’m not getting ready for the gardening show I co-host, I’m busy being a news junkie and scoping out freelance writing opportunities. And when I’m not doing that, I’m busy planning trips with my boyfriend to any given corner of the world. So you see, I do a lot. I don’t sit at home, twiddling my thumbs, thank you very much. I’m not out galavanting the streets either, getting home at 3 a.m. and puking in my bed.
And I don’t know about you, but home is the best place to be as far as I’m concerned. I have everything I need here. At least I have a home that I feel comfortable in and not one where I’m forced to pay rent or live with a room mate I don’t like.
Sitting at home or not, I like who I am and I’ve realized that I don’t have to explain myself at all. To anyone. It takes a sad and superficial person to insult someone with the idea that another person’s social life doesn’t mirror yours (so high school, don’t you think?) Which is exactly why I didn’t answer back. So immature and sooo high school, like totally.
405 - Pit of Hell. This is what I do in traffic. Take photos.
My boyfriend doesn’t understand traffic. Why should he? He’s from London, where mass transit is the norm and readily available to any Londoner at will. In London, there are buses at every stop, taxis at every corner and a metro with comfortable seating. What more can you ask for? Unlike Los Angeles, London is not a particularly spread out city. You can probably travel across it in less than an hour. L.A on the other hand is a vast land of freeway, suburb and city. I’ve said this before, but I don’t understand how anyone can travel to this city for vacation. How do you figure out where to go? And most importantly, how do you manage to get there? You can drive here, but what if you’re coming from Sweden? You can rent a car, but how would you even figure out our convoluted freeway system? 10 east, 5 south, 405 north, como what? I’ve lived in this city practically all my life and even I can’t figure it out completely (although if I needed to, I could find my way home using surface streets - this is what driving across town does to you)
This morning I thought I’d try something new by waking up extremely early to try and beat traffic. I got on the freeway at 6:50 a.m. In a normal city, this would mean that there would be a NORMAL amount of cars on the road. In Los Angeles, it means getting to work at 8:10 a.m.
No matter what I do, it doesn’t go away. It exists to make my life hell, even before I get to my cube. Tomorrow, I might try 6:30 a.m., although seeing as to it’s a Friday, I don’t know if it will be an accurate experiment.
The Los Angeles freeway system was my lady all Summer long. Now that school has started, it is a complete mess on the concrete jungle. This won’t ease up, I’m suspecting, until after Christmas. How lovely!
It was a bit difficult waking up this morning. Even Henry didn’t want to budge. He stayed in bed until even after I came back to my room after a shower. However, once he saw me put pants on, he went wild, gnawing at my feet, hopping arond like a miniature gazelle. That’s his cue, he knows that when the pants come on, we exist the room, make our way to the kitchen, where he’ll sniff around and either run to the living room to bark at INVISIBLENESS outside or trot to my parents’ bedroom to steal some socks for his morning breakfast. I can just foresee how hard the coming months will be to wake up - even harder than it is now that the days are getting shorter, and it’s pretty dark when I get home. Ugh.
Sometimes, I secretly enjoy Los Angeles traffic becomes it not only gives me time to listen to all the wonderful, insightful and interesting news and feature reports on NPR, but it gives me time to think. And it also gives me time to do my makeup. Yea, sometimes I do my makeup while I drive, always in heavy traffic and for always less than 15 minutes tops. Don’t scoff. It takes me 1 hour and 15 minutes to get to work. And I’m a girl. I’m allowed to do my makeup in my car by default. At least I’m doing something constructive with dead time. What are you doing, picking your nose? I thought so.
Graduate school
When will I apply? Where will I go? Most importantly, how much will it cost? And what about Henry? I have to sit and map out a 2-year-plan.
Barack Obama
I don’t know how anyone in their right mind can vote for John McCain. I don’t know. I swear to God, if he becomes president, I am packing up and moving to Europe. Maybe France, I don’t know. Sacrebleu!
Bollywood
I wonder what film we will watch this weekend. I keep forgetting to Netflix Khabi Alvida Na Khena. Nat hasn’t seen it. She must. She must see it immediately. I wonder how Aishwarya Rai is so beautiful. That face, that hair, those eyes. I could stare at her all day long. They’re all pretty. All of them! Priyanka Chopra, Bipasha Basu, Preity Zenta. How is this possible, Universe?
Reading
I have so many books that I’ve bought but haven’t read yet. I want to read. I really want to read. But every night I come home, I am either too tired or have other things to do. I must have at least 10 books waiting for me. I can’t even remember at this point what the last book I read was. How upsetting.
Manicures
I need one. And a pedicure. I wish I had the time and energy and patience to professionally get my nails done, at least once a month. It’s nice to have clean and nice hands, and feet for that matter.
Life
I wish I was at home, sewing and knitting instead of driving to work. When will they day come that I can work from home? I need to plant more vegetables in my garden. I need to paint my room. I wish I had a house to call my own, instead of just a room. Jeez, I need to pluck my eyebrows, they grow at the speed of light. I probably need to shave too. If someone handed me a lump sum of money right now, the first thing I would do is go to the nearest laser hair removal center and purchase head to toe body treatments.
So about half an hour ago, we had an earthquake here in Los Angeles. It registered on the scale at 5.8, with its epicenter about 2 miles from Chino Hills. It started off like there was a big truck rattling outside. Someone yelled, “Earthquake!” as a joke, we all laughed for about 2 seconds and then, it got a bit worse. “Oh no, it really is an earthquake.” I saw about 10 heads darting up from cubicles. No one ducked and covered, we all just stared at each other as if to say, “Is this really happening right now?”
The United State’s Geological Survey reported it at being 29 miles from the Los Angeles Civic Center. Having been through the Northridge earthquake, this was nothing. Somewhere, somehow, Victoria Beckham is implementing the Earthquake safety she learned on “Coming to America.” Transplants, welcome (officially) to Los Angeles.
Next to swap meets, attending farmer’s markets is one of my favorite ways of spending time. To me, there’s nothing more exciting than picking your own fresh and organic vegetables and fruits that were grown nearby. It’s nice seeing the faces of the people who plant, maintain and harvest crop that I later eat. Nothing is better than getting food from a farmer’s market, except baking and cooking with it. Now that takes the cake, no pun intended.
I work literally steps away from the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market that takes place every Wednesday morning and afternoon on 2nd Street. There were times when I used to go every single week, but I hadn’t been in a while, so when this Wednesday rolled around, I was really excited.
In addition to picking up fresh produce, you also learn what fruit and vegetables come into season at which time during the year. If you chat up the sellers, you can even learn some recipes or two. It’s a great way to spend at least some of your morning and definitely gives me a break from office life.
Carrots are definitely available year round, however they grow best when planted in early Spring. They are one of my favorite vegetable, although I will be the first to admit that I don’t eat them enough. Holtville, which is located in California’s Imperial Valley touts itself as the “Carrot Capitol of the World.” They even have an entire festival devoted to the vegetable.
Oh peaches. What can I say about that hasn’t been already said? You’re lovely and I think you know it. You’re a food fit for the Gods. Are you feeling tired and listless on an unbearable hot Summer day? Just take a bite out of a ripe, juicy peach. You’ll instantly feel better. I swear. At this point you might be thinking, those aren’t peaches, they’re nectarines! Not so fast. Nectarines are actually smooth, fuzzless peaches, for your information.
I tasted a couple samples that happened to come from Regier Family Farms. As God is my witness right now, they were perhaps, the BEST fruit I have ever tasted in my life. I mean at that moment, candy did not exist for me, because I was in love with nature’s candy: peaches from Regier Family Farms. I ran out of cash when I came upon them, but when I go back again, rest assured I will be stocking up. My mouth is totally watering just thinking about them.
Have you ever tasted fresh walnuts? I’m not talking about the kind you buy in a bag from the grocery store. I’m talking about the ones above. The ones you get to crack open yourself. They are heavenly. And they make all the difference in a recipe that calls for walnuts. Fresh walnuts are juicy and soft and so much more delightful to eat than regular walnuts. Plus, cracking them is so much fun, especially around the holidays.
Don’t they look beautiful? There’s a Salmonella scare currently going on, and California is one of the 30 states where cases have been reported, but I don’t think buying locally will put you at risk. Plus, I think the number of people affected references tomatoes from other places, not California. Salmonella or not, these look so amazingly good.
Olive you! I never used to like olives when I was younger, but that goes along with most things. I was never a fan of broccoli or spinach. Now I love them. Having olives with some Feta cheese and dry cracked bread sounds so good right now.
Cherries are in season! Although I do love cherries, they’re very iffy for me. They have to be really firm for me to be able to revel in them, like I do peaches.
Have I told you how much I love figs? Oh I love them. I love them fresh and made into jam and with tea. My mom usually makes a huge batch of fig jam (with whole figs intact). I could live off it. I don’t know with what intention I bought these. It’s a bit early for fig season, so I’m hoping these taste good. I looked up some recipes recently and I found some good ones, including one for fig muffins. If I don’t do anything with them, they’re being handed over to my mom for some delicious jam.
I have to say that I love asparagus, even though it makes your pee smell funny. They are so good on their own, with a little lemon sauce or as part of a dish. If there is any vegetable I’d love to grow, it would be asparagus.
This goat milk feta is from the award winning Redwood Hill Farm. Let me just say, that you haven’t tasted cheese until you taste some of the many varieties of goat cheese that Redwood Hill Farm has. In addition to feta, there is fresh chevre, camellia, California crottin and bucheret. If you are a cheese aficionado, this is the place for you. They also have tons of recipes on their site, including one for ‘goat cheese creme brulee. Wow.
If you ever get a chance to attend the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market on 2nd street, you really should. It will be hard for you walk away without something in hand.
I had completely forgotten that I had photos from the night we went to see Adele at the Roxy, so I present them here now:
The Roxy in Hollywood. Full text says: “The Roxy presents an evening with Adele”
Me on the left, Nat on the right. I don’t love this photo (what else is new?) but I don’t hate it either. It was after work and I was tired, so it’s ok. I realized my hair resembles Adele’s hair from this photo.
Just because I said I had photos, doesn’t mean I said they were any good. It came out blurry, but concert photos always do. Also I’m short, so you can imagine…
Adele was wearing a black blouse, with black washed jeans. It was simple and casual, just like her music. Her hair, as you can see, was tied back to the side and gathered up with a hair net. I thought that was a bit unusual, but clever at the same time. She had a ring on her ring finger. It was gorgeous. It looked like an engagement ring. I wonder if she’s engaged.
People were taking photos of her the entire night. There was also a filming crew there for some reason. When they decided they had gotten enough footage, she got really happy and said, “I hate being filmed.” Then realizing, that people in the audience were also filming, she added, “Not by you guys, you can film me, I don’t mind, cos you’re not getting paid to do it. Ha ha ha!” It was cute.
I also had recorded a snippet of “Daydreamer” that I will include in this post. Click to listen: DayDreamer
Prom season is here - I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but it meant that my sister, who will be graduating from high school this year, needed all the help she could get. Fortunate enough to find a dress and jewelry on the first try, the focus came down to shoes, a bag and the biggest task of all, finding enough material to construct an Indian inspired tent for her graduation after party. Let me just say, that this is by no means a small task. We really didn’t know where to start, but we thought we’d just wing it and try to find enough material to form a nice tent in my backyard. At first, we were going to go through a rental company, but we figured that was way beyond our budget.
So we set off to Downtown Los Angeles, more specifically the Fashion District, where mountains and mountains of excruciatingly beautiful fabric awaited us. We tried several stores and finally settled on a 100 percent turquoise blue silk as the main fabric, with iridescent mustard yellow and orange as accents and the inside of the tent. Along the way we picked up fabric flowers to sew on ourselves, more shiny fabric, bead trimmings and a couple dresses that we couldn’t resist. Honestly, you can’t go to Downtown and come back empty handed. It just doesn’t work. The universe won’t allow it.
After all that hullabaloo, we started to get hungry. This was a bad sign for me, as Downtown Los Angeles is the worst place for a vegetarian. You can not only smell the hotdogs wrapped in bacon from miles away, but the worst part is, that you actually WANT ONE! I couldn’t eat until I found a stand selling quesadillas, and believe you me, it was perhaps one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life.
Then I started to get thirsty, so we ducked into a corner shop and bought a drink you would only think of buying when you’re in such a crazy place like downtown: Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Juice:
After the apple juice quenched our thirsts, we made our way to Santee Alley - perhaps the defining landmark in Downtown, at least as far as shopping is concerned anyway. Santee Alley is exactly what it says it is, an alley, except this alley is jam crammed on both sides with all of the latest fake (and cheap!) designer fashions, toys, and other goods you can imagine. It also has some “original” stores, at least by Downtown standards. It feels like it goes on for miles, but it really doesn’t. After going through the alley for a couple minutes, you start to get drunk on the fact that everything around you is so incredibly dirt cheap. The fact that you can buy the same shoes Urban Outfitters carries with a 75 percent price decrease seriously boggles your mind, and you start to become a shopping fiend. Downtown is completely a different world and you become a completely different person in it.
When we finally made our way out of the alley, we came away with the last piece of the prom puzzle, an evening bag - for $15! Yes that’s right, 15 big ones. God I love this place. We were ready to head back to the car, when all of my dreams came floating down to Earth from heaven. We had come upon a street vendor selling the best thing you will ever taste in your whole entire life: Mexican-style grilled corn on the cob
This is the food of the Gods, at least in Mexico. When you take a bite, you’re not taking a bite out of corn, you’re taking a bite out of Heaven. If you’re not quite sure what I’m talking about, I will reference Nacho Libre for you. Case in point:
This corn on the cob, also called Elote, is a popular street food in Mexico. After the corn is grilled on a makeshift grill, it is then smothered with mayonnaise, lime juice, parmesan cheese, chili powder, red pepper, cumin and salt. Once you have an Elote, you will never look at corn the same way again. I guarantee it. You could be having the worst day of your life, but an Elote will make everything better. Trust me on this one. I found two recipes that might be able to do the street vendor version justice, one from Recipe Zaar and another from Simple Foodie.
As I was eating the corn, the Elotero asked me, “Muy bueno, Mija?”
I have taken 3 years of Spanish in high school, but at that moment, with the corn stuffed in my face, it took me about 5 seconds to process what he had just said and another 5 to answer back, and when I finally did, what I did say sounded more like “Mu Bono” than “Muy Bueno.” That was a bit upsetting, but I really didn’t care one bit. An Elote a day, will take all your cares and worries away.
We rode off into the smog filled Los Angeles sunset with empty wallets and full stomachs. It was beautiful.
On Thursday, after a treacherous day at work, I made my way across town to see Adele kick off her U.S tour at The Roxy in Hollywood. After grabbing a quick bite to eat, I stood in line for what seemed like eternity, but it was about an hour in real time. Once inside The Roxy, the room began to swell with fans. It was hot, sweaty, crowded and full of people I wanted to have nothing to do with. When the lights dimmed and the curtains were raised at 9:30 p.m., all of that just melted away. Out came Adele, ginger hair complete with blunt bangs, casual getup and a nervous smile.
She apologized for taking so long, her strong North London accent echoing in the ears of all her Los Angeles fans. Needless to say, it was more than a fantastic night.
Adele sang “Cold Shoulder,” “Right as Rain,” “First Love,” “Melt my Heart to Stone,” “Crazy,” “Hometown Glory”, “Make You Feel My Love,” “Daydreamer,” a song by Liverpool band The Coral (I think it was “Dreaming of You”) and also an Etta James cover - “Fool That I Am”
I love this woman. She’s so…fresh. And unique and actually has genuine talent. I rarely by concert tickets. Rarely. But I had to see her, because she’s awesome.
I got home quite late that night, and I had work the next day. I was tired, cranky and had a lot to get done, but it was all worth it. Thank you Adele, for an amazing show.
