In case you need a last minute Valentine's Day gift, there's always the street corner!
Hooray for tacky treasures!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Bingo Night at a Catholic Church
I am going to go straight to hell for this one ...
On a typical Saturday night you might find me sipping girly cocktails at a trendy Hollywood bar or noshing on an un-pronounceable appetizer at some highly-rated "Top Chef" restaurant. What I love about living in Los Angeles is there's always something fabulous to discover. Which is why you'll never find me in a church basement surrounded by other people's grandmas.
Saturday morning, up for a little adventure, I call a local Catholic church for the scoop on their advertised bingo night. The lady on the phone proceeds to give me the phone number for the bingo manager ... which turns out, is really a public pay phone ... somewhere near the church basement ... that he sometimes answers.
This sounds promising. So, I call the bingo man and he forks over the important details:
1. Bingo doors open at 4 PM
2. Game starts at 6 PM
3. The first game of the night is a practice round -- which doesn't count
4. And if interested, confession is from 1-2 PM
A few of my thoughts at this time:
1. Why in god's name would you need to get there two hours early? What could these people be doing for two hours before the game started?
2. Why in hell is there a practice round for a game I learned in preschool??
3. Confession? Oh yeah, that's when I made up sins in the second grade so I had something to say to the priest. Wait, is lying to a priest a sin?
Next, what exactly does a girl wear to a bingo night? Trina Turk cocktail dress? Nope. Super cute black jumpsuit? Nada. Sparkly sequin sleeveless tank? Negativo. Oooh I know - retirement home-inspired velor sweat pants and a hideous "10 Commandments of Bingo" t-shirt, hell yes!
I arrive at 7 PM because fashionably late can usually be trusted and applied to all social events. Let's just say, I learned the one exception. Walking in I'm immediately blasted with fluorescent lighting and a faint whiff of moth balls. This is no Hyde Lounge.
Right away I am welcomed by this lady ...
... who explains that the twenty bucks fast cash I grabbed from the ATM was not going to cut it here.
For $30 I get 2 bingo cards (with all the night's games on it) -- this is the cheapest way to play, but also gives you the worst odds, as most seasoned players are using ... bingo machines!
For $55 I get a machine -- no daubing, this sucker does the work for you, increasing your odds. I had no idea there even were bingo machines!
So, despite the hard sell, I pass over $30 and hope luck is on my side.
I am then asked a question that will later bite me in the ass, "Have you ever played BINGO before?"
My answer, "Uh. Of course!" (as I think, what's wrong with these people? It's FREAKING BINGO, isn't it?)
She points to the daubers ...
hands me a program (what? Bingo has a program?!) ...
and then, I'm thrust into a sea of seniors!
HOLY HOLY HOLY Shit.
I'm taken to my seat, which happens to be in a corner, behind the actual bingo board (now understanding why doors open at 4 PM). At least from this view, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Oxygen tanks, walkers and wheelchairs ... oh, my!
The game starts and it's complete insanity! Wide-screen TVs on all walls posting balls before they're read by the announcer. In between the number calling, ladies all over the hall are yelling -- Stingers! Cherries! Cupcakes! Double Action! Queens Wild! Last Call! (and I'm not talkin' about alcohol) Speaking of alcohol, I'll confess I did shove a few bottles of the airport's finest rum in my purse -- but like hell I was going to drink it -- I couldn't even follow this circus sober.
I was a lamb led to slaughter. Numbers -- letters! Lucky dollar bills! Six-packs! (still not talking about alcohol) People holding up lottery tickets and waving flags around. No wonder I heard a lady yell, "Help me!"
I was trying to hard to keep up -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- look up at TV screen -- ink ink ink -- etc. I thought bingo could only be won by getting B-I-N-G-O in a row or diagonally -- oh how wrong I was. In some games I could ink the free space, in some games I couldn't, sometimes I ink the corners (called the Picture Frame), sometimes I was playing Crazy Bingo, other games I was playing Jamboree Bingo. At no point was any of this explained to us. Now the practice round totally makes sense.
How is it that old people can't figure out how to work a computer mouse, but can navigate through 26 (!?) different rounds of high-speed bingo? Is it the cold hard cash? The concession stand with homemade brownies? Or is it the last rush of excitement before they're 6 feet under? That's so mean. Now I'm definitely going to hell.
Also, for the record, this game of bingo is not a friendly game. When someone wins, there aren't cheers or applause from fellow players. There's a chorus of grunts and groans because Carmel at the table next to you just won 250 bucks, and she only has one troll doll and didn't volunteer to decorate the church for Christmas.
Once I got the hang of it and settled in, I gotta say, it was actually fun. I mean, it's gambling. I love gambling! It doesn't seem legal to win that much CASH in a church basement. Of course, I didn't win anything, but when I go back (and yes, I will be going back), I'm gonna upgrade to the machine. These ladies don't stand a chance.
On a typical Saturday night you might find me sipping girly cocktails at a trendy Hollywood bar or noshing on an un-pronounceable appetizer at some highly-rated "Top Chef" restaurant. What I love about living in Los Angeles is there's always something fabulous to discover. Which is why you'll never find me in a church basement surrounded by other people's grandmas.
Saturday morning, up for a little adventure, I call a local Catholic church for the scoop on their advertised bingo night. The lady on the phone proceeds to give me the phone number for the bingo manager ... which turns out, is really a public pay phone ... somewhere near the church basement ... that he sometimes answers.
This sounds promising. So, I call the bingo man and he forks over the important details:
1. Bingo doors open at 4 PM
2. Game starts at 6 PM
3. The first game of the night is a practice round -- which doesn't count
4. And if interested, confession is from 1-2 PM
A few of my thoughts at this time:
1. Why in god's name would you need to get there two hours early? What could these people be doing for two hours before the game started?
2. Why in hell is there a practice round for a game I learned in preschool??
3. Confession? Oh yeah, that's when I made up sins in the second grade so I had something to say to the priest. Wait, is lying to a priest a sin?
Next, what exactly does a girl wear to a bingo night? Trina Turk cocktail dress? Nope. Super cute black jumpsuit? Nada. Sparkly sequin sleeveless tank? Negativo. Oooh I know - retirement home-inspired velor sweat pants and a hideous "10 Commandments of Bingo" t-shirt, hell yes!
I arrive at 7 PM because fashionably late can usually be trusted and applied to all social events. Let's just say, I learned the one exception. Walking in I'm immediately blasted with fluorescent lighting and a faint whiff of moth balls. This is no Hyde Lounge.
Right away I am welcomed by this lady ...
... who explains that the twenty bucks fast cash I grabbed from the ATM was not going to cut it here.
For $30 I get 2 bingo cards (with all the night's games on it) -- this is the cheapest way to play, but also gives you the worst odds, as most seasoned players are using ... bingo machines!
For $55 I get a machine -- no daubing, this sucker does the work for you, increasing your odds. I had no idea there even were bingo machines!
So, despite the hard sell, I pass over $30 and hope luck is on my side.
I am then asked a question that will later bite me in the ass, "Have you ever played BINGO before?"
My answer, "Uh. Of course!" (as I think, what's wrong with these people? It's FREAKING BINGO, isn't it?)
She points to the daubers ...
hands me a program (what? Bingo has a program?!) ...
and then, I'm thrust into a sea of seniors!
HOLY HOLY HOLY Shit.
I'm taken to my seat, which happens to be in a corner, behind the actual bingo board (now understanding why doors open at 4 PM). At least from this view, I'm able to take in my surroundings. Oxygen tanks, walkers and wheelchairs ... oh, my!
The comic strip Cathy 30 years later, lucky stuffed animals and multiple machine set-ups
(remember, these are $55 a pop!)
Random good luck thingys
Picnicking at tables
, peanuts and extra ink on hand
Lucky photos of great great grand children.
Grannies downing Ensure -- the drink of choice at BINGO night.
The game starts and it's complete insanity! Wide-screen TVs on all walls posting balls before they're read by the announcer. In between the number calling, ladies all over the hall are yelling -- Stingers! Cherries! Cupcakes! Double Action! Queens Wild! Last Call! (and I'm not talkin' about alcohol) Speaking of alcohol, I'll confess I did shove a few bottles of the airport's finest rum in my purse -- but like hell I was going to drink it -- I couldn't even follow this circus sober.
I was a lamb led to slaughter. Numbers -- letters! Lucky dollar bills! Six-packs! (still not talking about alcohol) People holding up lottery tickets and waving flags around. No wonder I heard a lady yell, "Help me!"
I was trying to hard to keep up -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- ink ink ink -- breathe -- look up at TV screen -- ink ink ink -- etc. I thought bingo could only be won by getting B-I-N-G-O in a row or diagonally -- oh how wrong I was. In some games I could ink the free space, in some games I couldn't, sometimes I ink the corners (called the Picture Frame), sometimes I was playing Crazy Bingo, other games I was playing Jamboree Bingo. At no point was any of this explained to us. Now the practice round totally makes sense.
How is it that old people can't figure out how to work a computer mouse, but can navigate through 26 (!?) different rounds of high-speed bingo? Is it the cold hard cash? The concession stand with homemade brownies? Or is it the last rush of excitement before they're 6 feet under? That's so mean. Now I'm definitely going to hell.
Also, for the record, this game of bingo is not a friendly game. When someone wins, there aren't cheers or applause from fellow players. There's a chorus of grunts and groans because Carmel at the table next to you just won 250 bucks, and she only has one troll doll and didn't volunteer to decorate the church for Christmas.
Once I got the hang of it and settled in, I gotta say, it was actually fun. I mean, it's gambling. I love gambling! It doesn't seem legal to win that much CASH in a church basement. Of course, I didn't win anything, but when I go back (and yes, I will be going back), I'm gonna upgrade to the machine. These ladies don't stand a chance.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Attending 'The Pee-Wee Herman Show'
For the record, I did not pay money to attend this show. Instead, I have a very nerdy boyfriend who has many nerdy friends who enjoy nerdy things -- and apparently, things that star men who like to play with their private parts.
So, as true nerds would only do it, we attend "The Pee-Wee Herman Show" on opening night.
Let me paint the picture of the crowd in attendance at this special engagement ...
Imagine the misfit wanna-bes who take classes and hang out 24/7 at the Improv Olympic. Well, multiply that 'type' by 1,000 and add in a few random F-list celebs like Doug Benson
(do you even know who that is?) ... and one racist. That's right, of all the seats in the house, I had the honor of sitting smack dab behind Kramer, er ... Michael Richards. Woo woo!
So, I gotta say, thank god for Dusty, who had the brilliant idea to meet for drinks beforehand -- genius!
When I said I would go to the show, I imagined it would only consist of Paul Reubens ... squealing onstage ... making jokes only the Jedi Nation would enjoy ... wearing merely a bow tie.
To my surprise, the show was actually a full out, Broadway-type show -- with sets and lighting and crazy colors and things flying from the sky and all! Now we're talking ... I was shocked.
Well, there wasn't any singing (a la my Big Apple faves), but the show was ... seriously ... fun! Everyone was cheering and laughing and screaming -- and The Racist loved it more than anyone! Even though, he did mysteriously leave for the bathroom half-way through the show not to return.
I have never been to a showing of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" -- but I would guess this spectacle would be what it's like -- minus the goth, theater freaks and instead infused with the goofy-looking, middle-class suburia-raised unemployed comedy kids. Okay, that was mean. I love Charlene Yi.
Had this not been opening night, I'm not sure it would have been as fun. But I am glad I went. It was random and silly and FUN! Ahhhhh!!! The secret word!!!!!
And no, I did not buy a Pee Wee bow tie t-shirt but as expected, it was the first souvenir to sell out. Ladies, if you're lookin' for a mate ... stay away from the Club Nokia at L.A. Live till Feb 7th.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Mobile Spray Tan at Home
Okay, so I totally pulled a Kim Kardashian today. This all started because I saw a posting on Facebook on Saturday (by my hair salon) for a discount on a spray tan. Usually $65, this was a special deal for just $45 -- so I was intrigued. I saw the line "Get glowy for those holiday parties people!!" and I was like "hell yeah!" So, I called and asked, if I get this done on Saturday -- will it last until Christmas? Long story short they said no blah blah blah but the spray tan girl would come to my place on Monday. What? Really? For the same price? Yes. Um. This is hilarious.I do enjoy a real tan (a la sunshine) -- but I don't do fake-n-bakes. I can't handle the smell of burnt skin. And the only time I got a Mystic Tan I ended up looking orange and splotchy and it rubbed off the next day. So, I was apprehensive but I knew if anything, this would be a good story. Who in the world has a spray tan at home before taking off for the airport?!
So, Ashley from Spray Tans LA shows up on my doorstep right on time with her mobile unit. I was impressed by the set-up, originally thinking we would be spraying down in my shower (of which was just cleaned and Steve would be pissed). She set up in 2 minutes and voila! -- a "Sunset Tan"-like set up in my apartment.
Her pop up tent (in my living room -- take note of the vacuum which was not used prior to departing for the airport).
The weapon.
The power unit.
The scary/magical juice to be sprayed.
My luggage waiting to depart for the airport -- oh wait, once my tan is done. HA!
The Before and After -- but hoping I look less creepy soon (and yes, I did tell my hair stylist to go shorter on the bangs b/c they grown so damn fast. And now, highly regretting that)
A tan line right away! It was crazy. A quick zap zap zap spray -- totally didn't smell -- and done! No stickiness, nothin'. Ashley said once I was at the airport I'd gradually look like I got some sun. So, there might be an update on this one in a few hours if the Oompa-Loompa shows up.Can't wait for my mom to be like ... WTH, Stephanie?!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Run on Empty
This gives me anxiety just looking at it. I thought I could make it without buying gas before I left for vacation -- I was wrong. That is, if I want to get to work tomorrow. Which probably should happen.
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