How Hard Is It To Post A Visible Address?

I'd like to rant about one of my biggest pet peeves: commercial buildings that do not bother to post a visible address. This is such a pain in the ass in Los Angeles County, where you might only glimpse an actual address every several blocks. I swear, Magellan would have a hard time finding an address in this town.

Look, I understand if Best Buy or Home Depot do not feel the need to post a visible address. I can spot those buildings from a mile away and don't need an address to confirm that I've found my destination.

But yesterday, I was headed to an appointment at a medical building I had never visited. (By the time this pregnancy is over, I will have visited every freaking medical building in Pasadena in order to have my blood drawn, uterus probed, and sugar levels checked.) I could not find the stupid building because its address was not clearly marked. UGH. I drove past the building three times before I was able to conclude, by process of elimination, that either (a) this was my destination, or (b) my destination had recently fallen into a sinkhole and no longer existed.

Why couldn't the medical building just post its address in a visible spot? It's a non-descript building with some windows that looks like every other building with medical offices. Does the architect have any idea how difficult it is to drive a car safely while scanning the street for addresses? Does he want me to get into an accident? Who the hell is the architect of this building anyway?  

It's not like an address plaque is particularly expensive. I'm not asking for a neon billboard with animated penguins doing the can-can. Just go to the hardware store and buy those black metal numbers AND NAIL THEM ON THE SIDE OF YOUR BUILDING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IN A VISIBLE SPOT AND BEHIND A BUSH OR TREE IS NOT A VISIBLE SPOT. How expensive are those black numbers, anyway? A dollar? So if there are five numbers in your address, it costs five bucks plus maybe twenty-five cents for hardware to buy an address for your stupid freaking anonymous commercial building. Owners of Commercial Buildings: Have mercy! Post visible addresses! Or I will find you and tattoo your building's address across your forehead!

Why I Broke Up With Facebook

I deactivated my Facebook account over the weekend, and I feel sooooooooooooooooo gooooooooooood.

I have been flirting with the idea of breaking up with Facebook for several months. For a long time, I really enjoyed the website. I joined after several college friends convinced me that it was a great new way to stay in touch. And when I first joined, it was! I went to college in New Hampshire and my college friends are scattered throughout the country. We can't see each other as often as we'd like, but Facebook was a novel new way to share updates and photos.

But the college friends who convinced me to join Facebook no longer use the website themselves. A few of them formally deactivated their accounts; the rest have informally left Facebook by never posting anything.

I don't know when exactly it happened, but for me, Facebook largely became an obligation. There were still some good parts to Facebook - my brother and sister-in-law posting photos of their Peace Corps adventures; a friend posting a link to an interesting article I would have otherwise missed - but most status updates were boring and/or annoying. Sorry, John Doe, but I don't care that you went to Ikea this weekend and had a muffin for breakfast. Sorry, Jane Roe, but I don't need to see the 10,000th photo of you having an "amazing Saturday night" at a bar. I started blocking many friends' updates. (And yes, I myself am guilty of making frequent, stupid, boring, inane updates, and I assume plenty of people blocked me from their news feeds.)

I checked my list of Facebook friends and realized, that with just a few exceptions, almost all of my friends fell into one of two categories. First, there's my family and good friends (excluding my husband and father, who both refuse to join the Facebook cult family). Then, there's everyone else.

I care about my family and close friends. We are in touch as regularly as possible. We email, share photos through non-Facebook means, and holy crap, we sometimes even visit in person. We don't need Facebook to stay in touch. Admittedly, I don't have all of my cousins' email addresses, but I can easily get them. None of these people need Facebook in order to learn about the big events in my life (and none of these people need Facebook to learn about all the inane boring shit that makes up my daily routine).

Then, there's everyone else. These are the people who I am not in touch with except through Facebook. Most of these people were my friends at some point in the past but through the natural cycle of life, we drifted apart. (And some of these people, sigh, I never actually liked, but I felt bad rejecting their friend request.) It is sad when friends drift apart, but I cannot have an unlimited number of close friends. There just aren't enough hours in the day. 

I no longer saw a point to having a Facebook account... except I could use Facebook to announce my daughter's birth in a few months. But the thought of doing that left a bad taste in my mouth. I will email or send birth announcements to all of my friends and relatives who are legitimately interested in my daughter's birth. A status update on Facebook will just update some people who I am not really friends with anymore. Do I really need to get a bunch of "likes" from people I have not spoken to in several years? Will their "likes" somehow validate my daughter's birth? Of course not! The importance and magic of my firstborn's birth is completely independent from the reaction it gets on Facebook.

I started resenting Facebook because it's too impersonal and creates a bunch of artificial "friendships." But I also resented Facebook because at times, it can be way too personal. For example, when I first joined Facebook, I accepted a friend request from a junior high school classmate (we were never actually friends). This classmate and his wife regularly had domestic disputes on their Facebook walls. I can't tell you how many times I read a posting to the effect of "I'm sorry I threw the book at you last night, but if you had just said sorry, it would have never happened."

Needless to say, I defriended that "friend" but still, in my experience, Facebook is too often used as a substitute for real communications that should be kept private.  It's easier to write something on a Facebook wall than to pick up the phone or write a letter, but communication should not always be easy. I'm sorry, but just because you "liked" my Facebook status does not mean we have engaged in a meaningful social interaction.

Please do not think I am saying everyone should deactivate their Facebook accounts today. For several years, I truly enjoyed Facebook. When I'm in a different life stage, I may embrace Facebook again. But right now, in this phase of my life, Facebook feels wrong. I felt obligated to keep checking Facebook even though 99% of the time, Facebook just annoyed the crap out of me. Now that I've deactivated Facebook, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And so far, none of my real friends have threatened to abandon me unless I reactivate my account. (My baby sister thinks I'm "lame," but let's face it, no matter what I do, she will always think I'm lame.)

A Walk At Descanso

There are two types of Americans: those who live for Black Friday and those who don't. Nathan and I both fall into the latter category. I don't know what we will be doing today, but it will NOT involve shopping.  

For those of you who are avoiding all retail centers, here are some photos from a walk I recently took at Descanso Gardens. I cannot overstate how much I love Descanso Gardens (or, incidentally, how much I loathe the idea of camping overnight outside a Best Buy to get the latest gadget). I've been at least ten or twelve times, and each time, I discover something new and leave the gardens feeling renewed.

The garden has lots of paths for wandering and loitering. (And I promise, no Black Friday shoppers are lurking behind the trellises. No one is going to trample you in order to reach the discounted iPads!)

During my last visit, I discovered a bird viewing station. I can't believe I had walked past this spot a dozen times and missed the ducks. (I wonder where the ducks will be doing their Black Friday shopping this year. They look like Target devotees.)

I finally managed to take some photos of my beloved San Gabriel Mountains. I see them every day, but they always make me smile. (And the mountains have never punched me in order to get the latest Elmo talking sensation toy.)

 

 

Eighteen Peacocks

On Sunday, Nathan and I had a random adventure. We went to our local mall in Arcadia to see the early showing of Skyfall, but the movie theater was having issues. There was a big crowd of Twilight fans, and the ticket booth had completely lost power. Since there was no sign that power would be restored by the movie's start time, we abandoned ship and headed to a different movie theater.

As we left the Arcadia mall, we drove past the Los Angeles Arboretum. The Arboretum has a flock of peacocks, and the peacocks often leave the gardens and roam around the Arcadia neighborhoods. As we headed towards Theater Number Two, I spotted some peacocks milling on a side street.

Nathan double backed through the Arcadia neighborhood so we could admire the peacocks. I thought we would see two or three peacocks preening their feathers.

Eighteen. EIGHTEEN peacocks were strutting their sh** in front of two houses. I felt like we had wandered on to the pages of a Dr. Seuss book. Every where we looked, there were peacocks! Peacocks in the street, peacocks in the driveway, peacocks in trees, even an arrogant peacock on a front porch.

Unfortunately, I could not photograph all of the peacocks at once. Bastards would not pose for a family photo. And, alas, I just had my iPhone with me; but these photos capture the spirit of our suburban adventure:

 

Nathan made me roll up the window, so I wouldn't get mauled by a cranky peacock. Which was an excellent idea.

The peacocks were not even remotely threatened by our car. I wonder what they do to cyclists....

p.s. Happy Thanksgiving!!!

Misadventures, Mishaps and Boo Boos

If I had to identify a theme for this week, it would be "misadventures, mishaps and boo boos." It started Tuesday morning, when I woke up with something stuck under my eyelid that required an emergency visit to my optometrist. Tuesday evening, as we were cleaning up dinner, I broke a glass. Then this morning, as I was driving to my prenatal yoga class, I got a flat tire. When I was on the freeway. After hitting an enormous piece of metal.

Fortunately, I am healthy and safe and my sense of humor is intact. Yes, I need to get a new tire tomorrow morning; but I'm in the middle of an excellent novel that I'm happy to read while the car is serviced (Charlotte Street, by Danny Wallace).

As I was headed to my yoga studio, I noticed the SUV ahead of me was slowing down. I braked and then suddenly, $#%&, there was a huge piece of metal about five feet from my car. I don't mean a rogue hubcap. I mean a big bar of rusted metal, about 4 feet long and 2 feet wide. I held my breath and drove straight over the bitch.

The metal clunked under the car and bounced against the frame and made lots of horrifying metallic sounds... and then it bounced out behind the car. The car was still driving fine, but I made a few lane changes and took the next exit off the freeway. As I drove down the ramp, the car signaled that it had a flat tire. I parked on a residential side street right by the freeway and called Nathan. I said I might drive a mile to a gas station near our house with a mechanic. Nathan sweetly suggested that I stay put and call AAA. Of course. Duh. Thank God I called my husband first and didn't attempt to drive a car with a flat tire for a mile.

Saul from AAA arrived within fifteen minutes and cheerfully swapped the busted tire for the spare donut. He looked under the car and reported that everything looked fine. WHEW.

I could be cranky or bitter about this episode, but really, I just feel lucky and grateful. What if I had swerved and hit another car? I had about 0.2 seconds to make a decision, and I consciously thought "drive over the metal." My dad taught me well. And what if the metal had bounced badly and caused more destruction? I don't want to even think what could have happened to my unborn baby girl. Thank God I was driving a good safe car that could handle the abuse and not one of those "smart" cars which don't seem so smart when you think about it.

On the one hand, this has been a week of misadventures, mishaps and boo boos... but it has also been a week of blessings, good fortune and serendipity. Plus, if you get a flat tire on the freeway, you are morally obligated to have pancakes for lunch. Which is exactly what I did.

Hello!

How goes it? Yesterday I had a fun crisis. When I woke up, it felt like something was stuck under my right eyelid. I was not in agony, but I was far from comfortable. I tried all my tricks, but my right eye would not stop bugging me. Fortunately, I have an excellent optometrist and he saw me yesterday morning. He examined my eye and could not find any abrasions or foreign objects, but when he flipped my right eyelid, I started to feel better. My optometrist thinks a minuscule particle was trapped under my eyelid and it got dislodged as he moved things around.

I suppose I could have saved myself a trip to the optometrist if I had flipped my eyelid myself... but there's no way in hell I would do something like that. Ew, gross. I require a trained (and insured) professional for that sort of medical procedure.

Today my eye feels 100% normal. I didn't even remember yesterday's discomfort until Nathan asked how I was doing.

Now I'm at home, fully dressed. Okay, I'm fully dressed in my exercise shorts but when you're pregnant, that counts! I'm in the process of stewing some prunes using this recipe (so simple and easy, yet the results are magical).

I've been revising my novel this morning, and now I'm going to revise it some more. This whole "revising my first novel thing" is going really well. My first draft was a bloated 437 pages, and I've already got the second draft slimmed down to a svelte 378 (and I still have another 160 pages of revisions to input into my computer).

This afternoon I'm going to do some thrilling legal work. Okay, it's not that thrilling, but it's a good break from the novel. I don't understand writers who are able to spend 10 or 12 hours a day working. I can be super productive for 3 or 4 hours, and then the creative side of my brain goes blank.

If I'm feeling really ambitious, I might tackle one of the "piles" on my To Do List. Pile Number One is a stack of stuff (mostly unused picture frames) that I hid behind our piano right before our wedding... sixteen months ago. I need to find a home for all the stuff in Pile Number One. Pile Number Two is a heap of office supplies. I was reorganizing a closet, and as part of the reorganization, I put all the office supplies on the floor... four weeks ago. It might be time to put the office supplies back on their shelf. And finally, Pile Number Three is a stack of exercise dvd's and old video games that got evicted from their home when we had our new air conditioner installed ... last spring. So if I'm feeling ambitious, I might finally deal with at least one of these piles.

Chances are, I won't be feeling ambitious, but damn, my stewed prunes smell good. I love how a little citrus and a little cinnamon can make the house smell like Christmas!

Confession: Sometimes I Wear My Pajamas All Day

The garbage truck stopped by about an hour ago and collected our trash. The bins are ready to be wheeled back to their spot by the garage. This is something I do nearly every Monday afternoon. Now that I'm pregnant, this chore makes me feel like a productive member of society (since taking the trash to the curb is waaaaaay too much work).

But on this lovely Monday afternoon, I'm working at home and wearing my pajamas and it seems like an awful lot of work to get dressed just so I can fetch the trash bins.

If only the trash bins were operated by remote control! How cool would that be? On inclement days, we would not have to venture outside to deal with trash collection. And when the bins are empty, we could ride around in them like smelly Segways. Why hasn't this technology been invented yet? I want a remote controlled trash bin for Christmas!