The Age of Aquarius & the CoCake

Yeah so, it's been awhile. Sorry about that. Let's get down to business.

Frog Boots

The weekend after Z and crew left, I washed laundry and cleaned up the apartment to prepare for my next guest. Christine drove down from San Francisco for an art opening, which featured the art of one of her friends. I picked her up late Friday night in Burbank and we came back to the apartment to eat some oranges and watch a few episodes of Strangers with Candy. As of late Robert and I had been somewhat obsessed with first season DVD, namely "The Trip Blank" and "Feather in the Storm," and forced Christine to watch a few episodes.

The next day Christine and I were on a mission to find a pair of frog boots she'd randomly found online. These wellies were made in the UK, (where else do they have such a great appreciation for rainboots?), but a random store in Beverly Hills imported them. The store is Plastica on 3rd St. and carries a bevy of bright, colorful, plasticy products for children and rich wide-eyed adults. Indeed they had Christine's boots, which were quite amazing. We bought them up and ran a few errands. I was having a craving for Pucca and we decided to drive down to Little Tokyo.

There is a little mall in Little Tokyo where the Mitsuwa is located. There are a few shops that sell beautiful cookware, ice cream, baked goods, and other odds and ends. One store features a variety of cheap imported of goods: flip-flops, stationary, baby plates and cups, rice cookers, tea kettles, fly swatters, etc. Many of the goods featured really amusing Engrish witticisms. For example, a Winnie-the-Pooh knock off baby dish asked "Where's Poo?" Perhaps you're familiar with Engrish? Well it always makes me giggle, and I usually spot it with Christine for some reason. During her last visit she spotted the store "Thousand of Thing" on my block.

After Little Tokyo, Christine left to meet up with one of Jeff N.'s friends for dinner and a concert. I went with Robert to dinner at El Compadre for Aaron's birthday. After dinner Robert went to 40 Deuce, an L.A. burlesque club, for Andrew's birthday. I opted out as I was exhausted, and the cover was $20. I was also still committed to not drinking after my NYE binge. I went home, took a bubble bath, and read in bed.

The next day Claudia called me with the gossip of what went down the night before. She and A.J. had broken up after NYE craziness, and she was back out on the town for Andrew's birthday. Apparently the infamous Trishelle from the Real World Las Vegas was at the bar. Claudia and Robert got to talking to her while they were having a cigarette outside. Trishelle then came back inside with them, and told Claudia that she thought Andrew was hot! She exchanged phone numbers with Andrew and has sent him a few text messages since that night. However, Andrew says he's not interested, citing that she probably has crabs. While this is most likely correct, it wouldn't hurt him to at least go out with her for one date. The boy is so stubborn and picky, I have yet to meet a girl he likes.

Entourage

The following weekend, Aaron threw a party for his birthday at his apartment. Andrew, Claudia, Morgan, Adam S., Robert, and I drove over, and Rob's car was packed to the brim. Since I wasn't driving I decided to have some drinks, my first since NYE. It was a medium-sized party and there were a few surprise faces: Josh Hime and Nick Eyster from the days of the CRC. I saw them scowling in a corner of the kitchen, and they appeared to be having a good time. True to form, they were making cracks about all the other guests.

John and Sarah stopped by before heading off to a bar in Los Feliz. The rest of us stayed at the party until 3AM against the protests of Andrew who was whining (as usual) to go to the Short Stop. He and Robert sometimes have an unhealthy obsession with that bar. As much as it makes me want to puke to type it, I guess the Short Stop is our Cheers.

We all headed back to the car, and Robert was pretty drunk. He got in the drivers seat and slowly started driving away, yelling dramatically that he was "driving home!" We were laughing and screaming in the middle of the street, and when the joke was played out, Rob gave his keys to Andrew. The rest of us piled into the back. Robert's car is usually pretty gross: wafting funk coming from the back seat, mysterious stains in the upholstery, mystery food, cigarette burns, wadded papers, clothing, cooking untensils, you name it. However, he seemed to have cleared most of the junk out of the car for this trip, or so I thought. Soon Andrew was barrelling down Sunset Boulevard, windows down, music blasting, and envelopes (which Robert must have left on the ledge in the back seat of the car) were flying out the windows by the tens. We were screaming and begging Andrew to roll up the windows to no avail. Paper was flicking past our heads and out the windows, swirling through the cabin as we screamed and held on to each other. It was a beautiful moment.

After dropping Andrew and Claudia off, I drove the rest of us home. Robert and Adam were begging me to drop them off at the doughnut shop. I refused, and they decided to walk in search of sugary treats.

The Bump

Saturday night we decided to go to the Cha Cha Lounge, and we had quite a crew for the event: Claudia, Andrew, Robert, myself, John, Sarah, Eleni, and Zoe. We were supposed to meet up with Steve, but as usual we were running late. In the meantime Steve bumped into his ex-boyfriend and decided to hide in his car until we arrived. By the time we got to the Cha Cha Lounge the line was massive, and Steve left for the 107 totally frustrated. We got into the bar, snagged a booth, and had a drink before deciding to head over to the 107 ourselves. Zoe headed home, and the rest of us drove downtown for some drinks.

I enjoy the 107 for its trashy decour, Colt 45, and occasional dancing. Unfortunately you never know what you're going to get at the bar because it's downtown; some nights it's a ghost town, other nights it's jumpin'. Tonight it was just okay. The bar was fairly crowded, the boys weren't too cute, and there wasn't any dancing. To make matters worse the ho's were holding up the bathroom line with their bumpage in the ladies. In my opinion, it's L.A.-- do that shit outside of the stalls and no one will care. What makes me mad is when my bladder's about to explode and you're not even using the toilet.

Flea

Saturday night many of the girls had a made a pact to wake up and go to the flea market. Eleni and Sarah followed through, but when Claudia when m.i.a. I called Andrew only to learn that she'd driven the Santa Monica the night before to reconcile with A.J.

The rest of us headed to the Rosebowl Flea Market and I had some great finds: a $2 copy of Beauty and the Beast in the puffy VHS box, 2 vintage dresses, a chunky metal necklace, and a green scarf. We walked and walked and walked all over the Rosebowl and met up with Zoe at Cafe 101 afterwards for a late lunch. Afterwards we headed to Trader Joes for a little grocery shopping even though we were all tired and exhausted. I needed to pick up ingredients for an NU alum dinner the following night. Erica R. and Jon P. had coordinated a follow-up dinner to the Thanksgiving gossip fest. This time it was a MLK day-themed southern dinner/Golden Globe watching party. I made buttermilk buscuits Sunday night in perparation.

Let My People Go

I was pissed because my Republican bosses hadn't given us MLK day off. No parade for me. No reflection and celebration. Instead I was chained to my desk, and to make matter worse, my boss had enlisted me to help him prepare a presentation for his upcoming meeting in Japan with our Japanese business partners. Konichi-what-the-fuck. I ended up staying late that night, and I was sent home with a packet (half an inch thick) of Power Point slides to review and revise. Allow me to recap: no day off, had to stay late, went home with homework! I was upset. I raced home and Robert and I headed over to Erica and Jon's for the dinner. I finished my homework during the first 1/3 of the awards show and my biscuits went over well.

Every guest had brought a Southern dish. Robert brought sweet tea or "tay" which was iced tea with whiskey in it. The best part of this gathering were the Golden Globe wise-cracks and cat calls. Who had surgery where, who we hated, who we loved, who looked anorexic, who was bloated, etc. The comments were scathing, and the food was delicious. It was also good to see a bunch of NU people: Joey, Blake, Deirdre, Cameron, Arielle, and Steve Deline to name a few. It was a rewarding night, complete with tears when America Ferrera won for Ugly Betty and J.Hud took home her first of many awards for Dreamgirls.

The Sweet Stench of Success

The rest of the week was hellish and was, by far, the hardest I've worked at my job. My boss was leaving for Japan that Saturday and he had yet to prepare a presentation or handouts for the trip. He was overworked as is everyone in our tiny office. Given that alcoholic boss can't always be trusted, my boss turned to me for help: you're creative, you like to write, here you go! In 4 days I revised our training manual and catered it to Japan, gathered office documents, handouts, brochures, and mailings, revised and revamped a power point presentation on Japan, and coordinated all papers/electronic files for my boss's trip. I worked through every lunch, stayed late every night. At times I worried that I couldn't do it. At times I drove home crying. I lived on dried apricots and plantain chips from the vegetable market across the street. I had raging gas. I was exhausted and I smelled. However, my boss deeply appreciated my hard work, and I silently thanked God that I hadn't yet had my annual review: I knew there would be a handsome reward for my suffering.

By Friday the project was done and Alex "Hamboner" was in town for a visit. He stopped by the office and after work we snuck away to have lunch and go to the mall. I helped him pick out a necklace for his girlfriend's birthdy and we gossiped about the workplace. It was really nice to see him, and he's a great friend. I miss having him around the office to exchange scathing comments with, but I know he's better off in NYC.

Saying goodbye to Alex after so brief a visit left me kind of sad. I thought about staying in, but went to St. Nick's with Robert, Arielle, and Sarah P. for some drinks. It was the birthday of one of Arielle's co-workers, and we bumped into Dave, Aaron's roommate. It seems all the young "Hollywood" types know each other in this town. John Ross showed up later in the night drunk as a skunk, and raving that he was going to be an agent and make Robert the next big thing. It was amusing, and truthfully, I'm not sure John wants to be an agent. The thing is he could if he wanted to, and he'd be very good at it. Sarah left the bar and made a run for the border. She'd entered an online Taco Bell contest to come up with "witty" slogans to put on Taco Bell sauce packets. Her love for Taco Smell was her inpiration, and she ended up winning a years supply of Taco Bell (I shit you not). We met up with Sarah back at her apartment, and admired the framed plaque and remaining gift certificates that had resulted in the splendor before us.

Kristen Bongiovanni was in town that weekend. She had recently relocated from San Francisco to San Diego and was spending some time in L.A. with Li-Wei. Saturday night most of the NU alums met up in WeHo at Lola's to have a drink with Kristen. Lola's is a nice martini bar. It was good to see Kristen and the other alums, but the crowd at Lola's really wasn't my cup of tea: the drinks were a little pricey, and the men had that button-down shirt, early 30's-young-studio-executive-with-gelled-hair look that I don't much care for. To top it off the bar was really crowded, and instead of mingling we sat at a table in the adjacent restaurant sipping drinks.

Sick Day

The next week at work, all the stress from the previous week caught up. I had been fighting off a minor cold, and by Wednesday I felt like shit. I called in sick, and spent the day in bed sleeping, drinking tea, and occasionally finding the strength to watch Maury Povich and my puffy box edition of Beauty & the Beast. I sent Robert to the grocery store for vapor rub, and I took it easy the rest of the week. I needed all my strength for the weekend.

The CoCake

Sarah P. had baked a delicious cake for the joint birthday party for John Ross and myself. I intended to return the favor, and when I saw a picture on Gawker.com for a cake in the shape of a pile of cocaine, I knew I had found just the right dessert for my dear friend. Years ago Sarahmaria and I had made quite an impressive cake for Nate Eddy in the shape of David Bowie's head on the cover of Aladdin Sane. I knew my culinary creativity was up for the challenge. I shared my plans with Sarah and Eleni and they were simply thrilled; for weeks Eleni and I had talked about the cake, collected items for its creation and discussed what type of cake would go inside my decorative frosting. There would be a big party, and Martha would be visiting from NYC as well. For weeks I'd known that Saturday January 27 was going to be a great night.

That Friday Martha arrived in Los Angeles, and she and Sarah came over to my apartment to pre-party before heading over to a shin-dig in the Hollywood Hills. The party was for a friend of Sarah's co-worker Kevin. Cameron picked us up, and parking was near to impossible on the twisted, narrow roads just North. The house was very nice, but small, with a larger outdoor patio. We were probably the youngest guests at the party; I'd say the median age was 29. The crowd was attractive and well-dressed, but somewhat cold and boring. My guess was that they were all entertainment people. There was a hired bartender, and a man playing the steel drums. No one was dancing, and it was a tight squeeze to navigate the party. Cameron left the party early, and the rest of us had a pretty boring/uneventful time. Interestingly enough, I turned around and Heather Graham was right behind me talking to some friends. She was taller than I expected her to be, but the party was still uneventful. I used the restroom and met Martha and Sarah outside talking to some 40 year old comic with crazy Sideshow Bob hair. I wasn't as gung-ho on making petty chit-chat, and when Sarah left to use the bathroom Martha and I moved away to talk elsewhere. Behind us on the deck was Andy Milonakis. He was wearing a hoodie with "Benjamins" all over it. Again, I wasn't really impressed, the party wasn't anything special, and my stomach had been hurting all night long. Kevin drove us home about a half our later, and all-in-all it was a pretty uneventful party. It really made me think, that even if I had rich & famous friends, I'd much rather have my crazy quirky friends at a house party than stuffy successful people in the Hollywood Hills. I got home and listened to a message from my Erin, one of my best friends from childhood. She's currently at school at University of Texas Austin. In it she drunkenly sang, "Come on, Eileen." The message alone made me feel so much happier. I have some wonderful friends.

Saturday I got out of bed sometime in the afternoon. I was stressed, because Steve's friends had organized his birthday dinner for that evening. I had committed to both events, but was worrying myself sick wondering if there would be time to bake a cake, decorate it, drive to Santa Monica for dinner, and then back to Fairfax Village for Sarah's party. What to do? As I often do in cases like these, I called Michael for advice. He suggested I cancel my RSVP for Steve's birthday and make it up to him later. With the stress of driving to Santa Monica off my chest, I picked up some Chinese food, packed the ingredients for the cake, and headed over to Sarah's apartment to bake the cake with Eleni.

We deicided to make a banana cake, and added yellow food coloring to the mix to make sure it was extra "banana-y." I had packed an array of cake pans. Most importantly we had to make sure the cake was tall. We baked one 11x13, two 9" rounds, one enchilada pan, and one 6" round. We made a triple batch of cake. While the cakes cooled I created a giant razor out of mirror board and foil. Eleni photoshopped 100 dollar bills which we would later wrap around the giant Pixie stick I'd bought. When the cakes were cooled, I went home to shower and change into my "Dreamgirls" dress, which I'd bought at the flea market with the girls the previous weekend.

This was a grand occassion, and I'd had my jewel of a flea market find dry cleaned ahead of time. I did big hair, and sparkly jewelry. My cake and I were on display. I was living my ultimate domestic fantasy: a giant ridiculous cake, heels, and a vintage dress. The icing on the cake was that everything was running smoothly.



Back at Sarah and John's Eleni had started the frosting and we soon finished it up. We probably used about 2 lbs of powdered sugar. I turned out the cakes and cut them in graduating scale to appear as a small mound. The glue in this great art project was the icing: we used it to attach layers, fill cracks, and serve as a base for the coconut flakes. We pressed coconut flakes on the the entire cake, and then I created lines of powdered sugar on the mirrored cake board. We pressed in the razor and the giant hundred dollar straw. Voila! Cocaine cake!


Much of the night was spent taking pictures of the cake and my fabulous outfit. I was so proud! The party quickly filled up and there were more treats to be had. One of Eleni's friends brought a bag of special gingersnaps. We were all eating and drinking and mingling, and soon I was gone. It was so nice to have Martha in town for this joyous event. There were all kinds of guests, friends from Zoe's acting class, Sarah's co-workers, old NU alums, and other random drunk people. Dan Mahoney made a surprise appearance and bestowed Sarah with a giant Strangers with Candy poster, which he had pilfered especially for her.

Sarah had a brilliant idea for serving the cake: we would place it on the floor and everyone would have to shovel a piece out with their credit card. There would be no exceptions! Around midnight I stood on a chair and made the announcement. Then Eleni lowered the cake onto the floor while the guests counted down. Sarah squated and took the first scoop. The rest of the guests followed suit--including Sarah's boss--and it really was hilarious. We were all too drunk to care how many germs we were ingesting; the alcohol would kill them, right?

Robert, Morgan, and Adam left the party a few hours before me and went to IHOP. I found out the next day from Robert that Adam, completely drunk, had left the IHOP (after ordering never-ending pancakes) and ran all the way from the IHOP in West Hollywood, back to our apartment. Morgan and Robert were left to eat Adam's pancakes. To give you an idea of how far Adam ran, simply view this map. Adam ran home 5 miles, drunk at 3AM. Clearly a good time was had by all Saturday night. I stayed late into the night, helping clean up a little before catching a ride home with Zoe. I passed out, but not before taking my standard drunken 4am photos.

I woke up Sunday afternoon and took Rob's car to Food 4 Less. I'd wanted tacos, and I made them and then crawled back into bed. I watched The Departed in bed, which I'd rented from work, and tried to recover. When I finally got around to checking my voicemail, I learned that my friend Erin and her family would be coming to San Diego that week. I was more than excited; Erin is one of my best friends and I hadn't seen her or her family in roughly 7 years. Their visit was sure to stir some emotion.