Monday night is dollar taco night at Malo, a funky restaurant on Sunset Boulevard.
Our first Monday night in LA was spent here, gorging on too many tacos and with my buddies imbibing much sangria. Tonight was my second visit, but Gin and J were back for a third time (three Mondays out of six is pretty good going) as it is a great place to take visiting friends.
With the tacos on special from $1 to $5 each it also makes for a great bargain. Especially when you only need three after making your way through the complimentary corn chips. Personally I prefer the hard tacos. The tortilla of the soft ones has a funny taste to it, nothing major, but they taste mass machine-made, which is unfortunately also how many of the tortillas come when in Mexico.
So tonight, with three tacos, a couple of cokes and a great night in a trendy restaurant, I came away having only spent $12 (including tip) and with a full stomach.
A little adventure, or rather an American Sunday hike, with my friends Ricardo, Astra and Jolena in Griffith Park showed me that it isn’t just Brits that ditch their shirts at the slightest ray of sunshine.
My new running shoes and new matching top. Total = $71
All these super cheap shoes, accessories and clothing are doing my bank balance in.
Heading out purely for necessities (running shoes) I got sidetracked by some majorly good prices and had to hold myself back with rarely displayed discipline. Although, that was probably just because the parking meter was ticking and fines are not cheap.
I went to Off Broadway Shoes with housemate Devoir as he needed to buy some new runners and since he had no vehicle (and at the time I did) and I had left my old runners at home I chauffeured him there. We parked out the back and my jaw slackened and my eyes shone as I surveyed the massive warehouse with rows upon rows of shoes in neat aisles.
I darted around like an excited child with only 30 seconds to get as many lollies as possible in a lolly shop. I started with the running shoes and I could not believe the prices. They were pretty much all in the $50 – $70 price range. As I walked past shoe after shoe I wondered how on earth running shoes can cost three times as much in Australia.
I exercised restraint and only bought the runners and a pair of beige flat lace-up sandals. However, during a power-shop at GAP a little later, I found a couple of tops on sale and way discounted.
I have a feeling that my penchant for shoes is going to see me purchasing lots more. I mean, when they are at these prices, you can afford to have a shoe fetish.
My naivete is a complete disadvantage in this city of hustlers.
The wide-eyed, country girl innocence I have hasn’t been working in my favour of late. Today, I received very bad news about Esmeralda in that she has a major (read very expensive to fix) problem in her engine as a result of a very new looking radiator hose breaking clean through due to a dodgy engine causing pressure on the cooling system.
I must say I was gutted when Vicente told me over the phone that it would probably cost $2800 to fix and that it is a serious problem. I felt sick and then totally sorry for myself. I went to see the mechanics in person and they told me and showed me the issue and explained the cost range depending on what they discovered after taking the engine apart.
Now I have a huge mechanic repair bill on top of the things that already needed doing, like the brakes. It doesn’t make me love Esmeralda any less, but it does make me question my ability to negotiate my way in this city full of hustlers and shady characters and find something that is true to appearances. I received an earnest speech from Nice Neighbour who implored me to be careful and exercise due diligence because he knows that there are so many phoneys who are just out for themselves in this town.
So I feel somewhat chastened and a little dispirited, but after today’s events in the world, this is nothing to worry about and I’ll bounce back with zeal real soon.
I knew there was a reason I signed up to America’s equivalent to the RACV, the AAA. It’s not an alcoholics anonymous for automobiles, but more a towing service. And a tow Esmeralda did need after she almost overheated on the way to the cinema at Alhambra (about 11 miles away) to see No Strings Attached.
It wasn’t until I was less than a mile from my destination that I noticed the oil pressure light coming on when I was idling at traffic lights. It then mysteriously disappeared when I accelerated to a travelling speed. Given that Esmeralda had an oil change on Friday last week, there should be nothing wrong with that department.
I then finally noticed that the temperature gauge needle was in the red zone. The red dead zone. So, in a little bit of a worry, I got to my destination and parked in a well-lit place. As soon as I opened my door I saw bad signs. Steam was coming out from underneath the bonnet and snaking over the windscreen. The whole bonnet felt hot to the touch, and I wasn’t game enough to pop the bonnet lest I get steam burns all over me. So I left her in the parking lot to cool down while I watched a movie.
On my way back to the car, I asked some guys where the nearest gas station was (I have to speak their lingo because they have no idea what a servo is). I learnt that you don’t ask three geeks on bicycles where a gas station is. They spent about 3 minutes talking and debating amongst themselves before finally giving me some directions. I chose to ignore their suggestion and went with the Points of Interest feature on my GPS instead and drove half a mile to a 76 gas station.
As Esmeralda was still feeling a bit of a temperature, I popped the bonnet at the servo and checked the coolant levels. It looked empty. So I bought a 1.5L bottle of water which didn’t even touch the thirsty sides of her coolant container. Disturbingly, water started to flow out from under the engine and across the apron of the service station. I commented to some guys in front of me that it wasn’t a good sign.
Holding out on the tow because I know I have a 7 mile free tow and I was at least 11 miles from home, I went back and bought an even bigger bottle of water, something like a 3L bottle. Esmeralda guzzled that too, and then I peered underneath to see a waterfall gushing out. The first thing that entered my brain was “uh oh”.
So I drove her to a parking space and dialed the number for AAA and requested a tow. Each extra mile over 7 miles was going to cost $10 (even steeper than a U-Haul mile fee), but the good news was that I would be able to ride with the tow-truck driver.
Within 15 minutes Hayden the tow driver had come to the rescue and he started prepping Esmeralda for the tow. Once her front boots were on the lift, she then had chains wrapped around her front axles, ratchet straps tied around her front wheels and two brake lights magnetised to her boot lid. She was ready to roll on the freeway.
I chatted to Hayden about how I had actually considered calling my dad to ask him for Mechanics Advice 101 via the phone, but that I already knew his response would be “You are on the other side of the world, I can’t help you from here, I’m sorry.” And then he’d probably follow that up with something like “You have to learn how to fend for yourself.” Even though I wouldn’t have expected any diagnostics via mobile phone, this daddy’s-little-girl would have just been seeking some sympathy and reassurance from a man whose opinion she values highly.
LA is very tow-happy. They don’t send out someone to see if they can fix it, like the RACV did for me when the Mighty Meteor busted a hose on the Hume Freeway once, they just send a tow-truck. I asked Hayden if he spends his whole 7pm to 7am shifts towing cars, but he says that around 11pm it usually slows down and that he might only get a couple more calls for the night. I also found out that it is polite to tip your tow-driver, it’s not expected, but is an appreciated gesture.
So Hayden got Esmeralda and I home. She’s parked out the back now and fingers crossed she gets to the mechanic without doing any more damage and is easily repairable. Please, oh please, let it just be a burst hose.
Gin and J cooked up dinner for a few friends tonight and one of the starters was endamame beans.
I have never eaten endamame beans before. Or at least not consciously. So I picked one out of the bowl and put it in my mouth and began to chew. And chew, and chew. I was left with bean strings and husks in my mouth and tried to politely pull them out and put them in my serviette. Needless to say I didn’t go back for seconds.
It wasn’t until later, observing our six-year-old guest eating them, that I realised you just pop the bean out of the husk and into your mouth and then put the shell in the other container set aside for such purposes. You don’t eat them like snow peas.
I’m typing this post on my brand new MacBook Pro that arrived yesterday.
It’s taking some adjustment as I transfer from my faithful old Toshiba to this crunchy Apple. I’m discovering things I like and things that I don’t like. I don’t like not knowing how to do simple things, but I guess that’s part of the learning process and I just need to play with it.
Google is proving to be a godsend. Despite there currently being four Mac users in my household, none of them could help me in my lament over the loss of the forward delete button on my PC (the Del button). Thanks to a search, I found a forum that answered my question. Whilst it is less efficient with having to hold the fn key at the same time as the delete key, at least I can still forward delete which is essential in craft of wordsmithing. My housemates thought that was pretty cool.
One of the best things about my new computer is that my blog looks sensational on this screen. The colour saturation is amazing and it looks so crisp. However, I am going to miss the mousepad on my Toshiba with its light tap sensitivity. It is a truly amazing feature. On my MacBook I have to press hard to click on the trackpad, which isn’t as convenient to my semi-double jointed fingers and I feel it could bring on a case of RSI.
I’m thinking of keeping my Toshiba to one side to check emails without interrupting my work on the Apple. Or maybe that’s just because I haven’t figured out how to get my emails to appear on Mac Mail…
Follow up note Wednesday 9 March: So my friend Ricky came over today and commented on my shiny new computer. He then proved his worth by showing me how to set up the trackpad as a tap to click. So now I have one of my favourite features of my pc available on my mac and I guess it renders one of my gripes above irrelevant.
After sleeping on the not-so-amazing bed and waking up at 5am (something that never happened on the airbed) I figured out the problem.
Unable to sleep on the sagging bed, I pulled the mattress off the boxspring to see if that made any difference. It did. When checking the boxspring in the morning, I discovered that three of the wooden slats were broken. One had even had an attempted fix up with a roll of duct tape. Hmm, I was definitely duped on this purchase.
So I have a few options:
Try and fix the boxspring myself with a visit to Home Depot for some timber slat replacement and some screws. In doing so, I’ll also have to recover the top with a cardboard like cover.
Ditch the boxspring all together and keep sleeping on the mattress on the floor.
Buy a new boxspring.
Buy a bed frame that doesn’t need a boxspring.
All of these options, except for number 2, require time and research.
In the meantime I decided to do something about the aesthetics of my bed and purchased a lovely soft 400 thread count mattress protector and some 600 thread count sheets. So hopefully this means I’ll get a better night’s sleep and also put some good quality layers between me and Sheila’s paint job.
Perhaps I’ve consumed too many American home-style brownies today, but all I can do is laugh and shake my head at the debacle of buying a bed.
I’ve been sleeping on a blow up mattress for a month now, and it’s getting quite tiresome. Those that know me well know that I like to lounge about in bed a fair bit, and that pastime is considerably hindered when there is nothing but air and flocked top plastic beneath you. Feeling on a bit of a roll with all my fabulous purchases of the last week (car, computer, some great garage sale pick ups) I jumped on Craigslist this morning and searched for a mattress.
Now, I’d looked plenty of times, but none of those times was I looking with intent. I had made a couple of ‘going nowhere’ calls about beds and had kind of gotten distracted by my overwhelming need to get a car first. This morning, I narrowed the search to owner only, hoping to find a you-beaut quality mattress and boxspring (what we would call an ensemble in Australia) going cheap. I stumbled across this post:
Beautiful queen double pillow top mattress is in like new condition and is super comfortable. Once you sleep on this double pillow top you wont want to ever sleep on anything else. I have only slept on this bed for less than three months (always had a mattress protector on it) because I moved in with my boyfriend. Mattress is two years old and is completely clean.of stains, rips or funky smells. Actually this set has been in cold storage since january of 2010. I can deliver.
A picture of the advertised bed
The photos of the mattress looked good and the price was nice for a good quality one at $225 for the mattress and boxspring. So I called and left a message for Sheila who then called me back not long after. She immediately went into the detail about the mattress, the pillow top, that it was virtually brand new and had hardly been slept on. She said she could deliver tonight after work if I went halves in the gas and that she would also throw in a free bed frame (here that just means a little metal trolley with wheels on which to place the boxspring). I said bring it on. I proceeded to then document my excitement via Facebook with a series of images of my blow up mattress and my empty room awaiting the new, super comfy bed.
On the phone Sheila had a distinct accent that I can’t place but is what you hear in the movies frequently. It has a Southern twang about it and a gravelly undertone. When I met her at the gate she totally lived up to her voice. She was a little woman in her forties, but with a younger movement about her. Her dyed blonde hair was half hidden underneath her black hoodie and she jumped out of the big white pick up truck driven by her big, goateed boyfriend and proceeded to act a bit jittery. As she opened the door of the truck, a strong waft of cigarette smoke also exited, as though it too had been trying to escape the cabin of the truck.
Gin, J and I helped take the occie straps off the tarp and we pulled out the mattress which was wrapped in plastic. Sheila retrieved a torch from the truck and shone it on the mattress, saying how the reason she wasn’t sleeping on it was “as you can see, my boyfriend’s a big guy, 6’4″ and well, it wasn’t big enough, you know?” She carried on about it for a little while, whereas I was just keen to get it upstairs. I handed over the cash and watched them back out of the driveway, trying a few times to get the big truck lined up down the narrow driveway and closed the gate behind them as they drove home to Santa Clarita (quite some way away).
In the meantime, Gin and J had carried up the frame and boxspring and J helped me carry the mattress up the stairs.
Quite excited to have a bed, I ripped off the plastic and exposed the rough fabric of a not-the-quality-I-thought-I-was-buying pillow-top. We put the mattress on the boxspring and I pressed down to hear a loud creaking as pressure was applied. The mattress certainly didn’t look as though it had only been slept on for three months. Then I saw where a stain had been cleaned. I touched it and my fingers came away white. I felt duped.
How will I sleep tonight?
Adopting a “oh-well-ha-ha-they-got-me-but-at-least-I-have-a-bed” demeanor, I got the hairdryer to dry where I’d assumed they’d just left upholstery cleaner like J’s attempts at cleaning our white couch. Then, as I was making my bed, I noticed another spot on the bottom corner of the side of the mattress where my fingers came away white again. On closer inspection I discovered that they had painted over some scuff marks on the mattress. Who does that? So much for the “completely clean of stains” claim in the ad posting.
So I didn’t get sold the mattress I thought I was being sold but I’ll wait and see how it goes to sleep on tonight. I probably could have got a new mattress and box spring from a wholesaler for only a little bit more, I was just trying to find a good deal, instead I think I was the good deal for Sheila and her boyfriend. No doubt they are at some seedy bar drinking beers and laughing over the money they made off me right now. Do I dare text my displeasure?
For future Craigslist purchases, I must remember to do my due diligence or else the joke will always be on me.
Yesterday we started a new tradition for our little posse here in LA, that of seeing a movie together every fortnight.
Coming off Oscars hype and with some Best Picture nominees that we didn’t get to see, we’re all geared up to see a film together on a regular basis as a little bonding session.
Our first film together was The Adjustment Bureau at the Cinerama Dome at Arclight Cinemas in Hollywood. It was a really lovely love story for the blokes and the chicks. It was billed as more action flick than it actually was, and despite some ridiculous moments that were laugh-out-loud funny, it was a nice film. I really liked some of the themes of persistence and forging your own path that it touched on, and I saw similarities to my favourite book, The Alchemist.
Post cinema session, we went to the Bowery Bar just down the road a bit for a debrief where we all shared our thoughts and ideas on the film. The group deconstruct of a film is such fun, and being with some technical experts only made it more interesting for me. I’m going to learn a lot!
Since we hadn’t had enough, we followed it up with a preview of Jane Eyre at the Australians in Film screening in Beverly Hills. We raced through the doors just as the film was starting. It was our second close call to make the film. One day we’ll make it on time and get better seats rather than having to climb over the back row in the dark and slide into the chairs.
a little cameo 