Okay, now here’s an iconic image. I mean the Hollywood sign is as L.A. as it gets, no?  Even though we had an amazing unobstructed view to get this shot, I was still able to ruin it.  I’m good like that.  We have plans to go down to the ocean tomorrow, so hopefully I won’t mess those shots up as well. I am neck deep in boxes at home, I didn’t even think we owned that much.  Our apartment is postage stamp small, so where is all this excess coming from? It’s beyond me. It has become the clown car of apartments, no matter how many boxes I fill there’s more stuff to pack; it’s never ending. I am exhausted + irritated, a winning combo. See you tomorrow!


I am still on my photo scavenger hunt of finding iconic images of the City of Angels to take with me to my new hometown.  My vision is to have one or two of the photographs blown up super size so I won’t feel too homesick. I asked my husband to take me to Lake Hollywood on Sunday.  It’s not really a lake, but a reservoir and I could have sworn that you were once allowed to get a lot closer to it. There were fences all around and it was miles down to the water.  “Terrorists,” my husband muttered, “that’s why we can’t get any  closer”.  I actually think my husband was lost and that was why we couldn’t get closer but I don’t like to mention the ‘L’ word (lost) in front of him because he goes a bit bananas.  I tried to make the most of the situation and pointed to the ‘lemon’ trees.  I have been wanting a lemon tree + sky image.  “Hon, those are oranges.  Do you still want to pull over?” he asked.  I of course didn’t want to be wrong anymore than he wanted to be lost, “Of course I want you to pull over!”.  We drove around some more and found a bevy of tourists. I have lived in L.A. pretty much my entire life and had never been to that spot, it had a view of the ‘lake’ and an unobstructed view of the Hollywood sign.  “You wanna photo for your blog?” my husband asked (he is really always so thoughtful), but of course I didn’t want a photo for my blog. I am like Greta Garbo, no photos, ever, but I think I mentioned I had a garage sale lens on my camera that was a little on the soft side? I decided it would work for a great photo-op, plus there was sun behind me so I figured it would help make for a little  lot less detail (which to me equals more flattering).   For those that are interested I was wearing this mascara and this foundation (this stuff is like taking an eraser to your face and is so light). Onward an upward, my iconic image search will continue.
P.S.  I am at the half way mark, only 15 more days, eek! 
P.P.S. Last photo was taken by Ace (formerly my fancy), now my husband, so I should give him credit in case he reads this and gets all flummoxed.
P.P.P.S. My husband hates when I wear red lipstick, how about yours?


I have already established that Bella, my naughty Frenchie is not allowed on the bed.  I should concede that she is allowed but only on a small portion which includes a blanket for her to lay on and only in the late evening when we are watching bad television. She’s a really smart dog, so for those that are thinking she doesn’t know better, well, that’s not going to fly. Bella has now taught herself how to open the bedroom door (who needs opposable thumbs?) When her Mom walked in on her she froze and stopped breathing as if that would work and I wouldn’t notice she was on the bed (see Exhibit A. top photo of Frenchie trying to blend in by not breathing). I picked her up and put her on the floor, which by the expression on her face wasn’t what she wanted.  Her sister George, my pure white, 3lb dog was successfully camouflaged and had jumped off the bed trying to act like nothing was amiss. Note the messed up hair and the shallow breathing gave her up.  I was not budging even when Bella was giving me the ol’ stink eye, she finally gave in like a sullen teenager and accepted her place on the rug.  Not happy mind you. If she was an actual human teenager she would have rolled her eyes and slammed her bedroom door, I’m sure. This takes me to one of my biggest fears, I worry that if I ever procreate my kids won’t be better than my dogs (behavior wise). Sure, my dogs are cute, charming, intelligent and really affectionate, but on the flip side they are insubordinate, stubborn and kind of a@!holes sometimes. If I can’t get the dog thing right, how am I ever going to raise a child? I don’t think my worry is unfounded, I think I should be really worried about this.  My mom likes to tell me that you can’t really help it if your kid is an a@!hole, even if you do everything right, they could still turn out less than you expected.  I hope this was not directed at me, because I like to think I was a pretty great kid and am not that bad of an adult. The kind of daughter you would be proud to have. I mean that’s what I would like to think.

P.S. These were taken with that yard sale lens I bought for a couple bucks the 28-70 Tokina, it’s definitely a better lens to play with when shooting dreamy scenery than shooting naughty dogs with!


I am going to confess that I am no blogging expert. Sure, I have been blogging longer than most of you have been able to legally imbibe, but I am no expert. When I moved to the Blogger platform, I thought it would be a temporary stop on the information super highway and that I would be building my big, beautiful WordPress masterpiece within months. A little over a year later I am still here. Since I thought it was temporary I never really investigated the ‘stats’ option.  I don’t really care, I don’t monetize this blog so as long as I get comments I am a happy camper.  I have peeked under the hood (so to speak) a few times, mainly at the ‘key word search’ because I like to know how people find my blog.  The few times I have, the search words have always amused me and I have thought to myself I should take a screen shot.  I am a professional level procrastinator so that hadn’t happened, but today I did. For the record, the last search word combo, I have never had on my blog, although, I am a fan of babies-huge fan.  I often wonder if the people looking for these search words are disappointed when they finally arrive?  It’s one of the reasons I stopped doing my Cute Monday’s, because I didn’t want to lead anyone on that this was a mecca for cute; when it was really only a mecca on Monday’s.  I also didn’t love that I couldn’t find the source of the cute any longer, it made me feel guilty and I have enough guilt being born Roman Catholic and married to a Jew, it’s like guilt on steroids here already.  Speaking of guilt, I can dole it out as much as I can stew in it and I can not take it when people unfollow my blog, it ruins my day/night/month/life, if you follow it you know what it’s about and when you unfollow I lose my mind (and my self-esteem). So, please don’t follow me unless you are sure you like me, because I have a whole highschool thing I thought I got over, but the blogosphere has brought it out of me again, sigh. Does anyone else feel the same way or am I the sole neurotic on the web?


There was a movie made many years back called the ‘Slums of Beverly Hills’, I don’t really remember it but there actually is an area that exists in Beverly Hills that offers you the luxury of a Beverly Hills zipcode without being an heiress. It’s not pretty, it’s run down and has a lot of very bad boxy architecture and it’s all apartments that practically touch. I suppose it would be considered cool now. It’s a version of mid-century modern but created in the 70’s, so maybe not so cool.  What could be worse than the Slums of Beverly Hills?  Well, I am glad you asked.  That would be my ‘hood, The Slums of Beverly Hills adjacent.  I’m an alley away from a Beverly Hills zipcode and the world never seems to let me forget. We once called a cab which had a flat rate to the airport from Beverly Hills for $40, we got to the airport and paid $70.  Why?  We didn’t meet the cab driver in the alley.  Live and learn. I went  on my search for iconic images today in my neighborhood, sure there were palm trees, bougainvillea and swimming pools, but everything was down and out (in Beverly Hills).  It seems the zipcode my neighbors so covet make it difficult to maintain your property. The palm trees were anemic, the bougainvillea brown and swimming pools flat, sunshine-free, shadowed by a building so close that you could have a conversation with your neighbor in the next building from your shower. It was a little depressing and amusing. There’s cute original Spanish bungalows next to McMansions.  Oh, poor Slums of Beverly Hills,  you try so hard, but just miss the mark, maybe they should have just stayed on my side of Beverly Hills (adjacent) and called it day.
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