silverlake

Saturday I went for a walk around my old neighborhood. I really miss hiking the hills over there. I love where I live now, but it's completely flat. Hard to believe it's been a whole four years since I moved away. It's still so beautiful, like a fairy-tale land. The jacarandas were all out, making purple canopies over the streets, bougainvillea in the most brilliant shade of orange-fuchsia and these crazy poinsettia-like flowers blooming at the end of May.

gray may.

I always forget about this time of year, an entire month of general dreariness. This May it was particularly hideous, not so much because of the weather, but because my own state of mind was rather "gray." I know life is not without its stretches of generalized dissatisfaction, and they can often be rather lengthy, but it's been awhile since I've really questioned whether I want stay in L.A. for the long haul--like I did this month. Part of the reason I started this blog was because I wanted to believe there is more to living here than movie stars, boob jobs and 75 degrees and sunny every day of the year.

And of course, there is. There's earthquakes and mud slides and wildfires, too. Kidding. There is an incredible amount of art and culture, intellectual life (stop laughing) and kind, down-to-earth people (really, stop laughing). But I think the thing about L.A., and what I've known for awhile, is that what you're surrounded by in other cities and take for granted--you have to work to find in L.A.

I don't know. I was just really struck this month that, as fascinating as this city can be, it can also be the loneliest place on earth. I know that the more technologically advanced we all become, the more isolated we become, too. But I think that factor is really more acute here. It's not like you can just walk out the door and bop into some bar or coffee shop--you have to make plans to go somewhere. Datable guys don't really cross your path every day--you have to get on the internet.

I don't know, maybe I was just really hit by the lonelies this month. Or maybe in talking to my dad and my sister about being 40 and feeling like I should own a house by now, they both reminded me I still have all this freedom that they, as homeowners and family-headers, don't. Freedom is awesome, but it can also be incredibly frightening.

But I always have to remember, I'm not alone. There are a couple of excellent women at work who always have my back and listen to me, and the great group of people I get together with at the Farmer's Market every Sunday. And when I was feeling particularly horrific a couple of weeks ago, I came home to find not one, but two packages on my deck--the new Apartment Therapy book and a quartet of red velvet cupcakes. Thanks, mom.

Oh well, I'm sure this will all pass. Who knows where I'll end up? And actually, it's quite lovely today.

wow.

Wow. That's all I can really say.

(Via Bliss.)

mystery.

You know what I love? A good mystery book store. You want to know why? I'll tell you.

Last year some time, I was getting a pedicure and leafing through People magazine, I came upon a review for a new mystery described as "Murder She Wrote set in Canada." Holy crap! I said. I have to remember this and buy it for my sister's birthday. My sister is a die-hard MSW aficionado, and even wrote a critical essay on it for her Master's in Non-Fiction Writing. It was both brilliant and hilarious.

Of course, by the end of the pedicure, I had forgotten about it, as I have the attention span of the average two-year-old, and the name of the author, the book and the edition of People were all lost forever.

One day while at Border's, although I knew it was a lost cause, I thought I would ask the salesgirl, "if I asked you to help me find a mystery and the only thing I know about it is that it's like Murder She Wrote set in Canada, would you have the the faintest clue (ha! pun) what I was talking about?"

Her look said it all. It said "no, you f***ing idiot, I wouldn't. How the hell I am supposed to help you with that?"

So, I shot her a look back, the "I said I didn't expect you to have the faintest clue as to what I was talking about. Don't look at me like that."

I gave up on what I thought would be such a sassy gift for my sis. Until the other day. I jetted over to Westwood for Jung's Red Book exhibit at the Hammer (more on that to come), and I happened upon The Mystery Book Store. I remembered my old dilemma, and thought I'd see if they could help me out.

And guess what? As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the kind people there just said, "oh yeah, that's Louise Penny," and instantly produced it on the spot. So I bought it (in hardback) and gave them a little write-up on my blog that maybe seven or eight people read.

That's why I love a good mystery book store.

Er...Maggie, I'll get you something else, too. Something that will actually be a surprise.

nan lawson.

Nan Lawson is one of my favorite new artists, and she lives right here in Silverlake. I love her store and her blog. I love this print, and I thought it was a nice transition from my last post.

Polaroid week.

Hey, everyone! It's Polaroid Week over at flickr. Actually it's called "roid week" but I refuse to use that term. You know what that means? A bunch of pseudo hipster douches post Polaroids of vintage motel signs + toys. Seriously, do you know how many "toy Polaroid" groups are on flickr? It's weird. But it does all look so cool, and I just love it. Here are my contributions--Polaroids of Polaroids, get it? So meta, I know.

So I am offically not a pseudo hipster douche anymore. Wednesday night I had tix for the Hold Steady, but with all the stress at work and the hint of a sore throat and Mercury in retrograde all week, I skipped it and was in bed by 10:30.

Spinsters rule, bitches.

ideal bookshelves.

I love these prints by artist Jane Mount. I dream of putting them in my new office I haven't moved into yet. My time these days is pretty much spent decorating spaces I don't have. It makes the time go by. You can buy them here at her etsy shop.

heartless bastards.

OK, now this is a great band. My friend Kim and I went to see them last Friday at Echoplex. It seems the only time I really get over to Echo Park any more is to go to Echoplex or the new Bootleg Theater. Both are good places to see shows. I was surprised (but not) to see how much has changed around there. I kind of avoid it since it's like the Williamsburg of Los Angeles and I'm 40. But I popped into a really nice independent bookstore (sorry, I can't remember the name) and Two Boots Pizza!! Yea, Two Boots! It always reminds me of visiting my NYC friends who lived in the West Village, and I like the pizza, even though it is of the fou- fou variety (jalapeno pesto, etc.).

And despite the fact that I'm too old and cranky to be attending rock shows (I get dehydrated, my back hurts, everyone's talking during the show, etc.), this was a great one, and I'm glad I made it out. This is a tight, tight band and they sound incredible live. Lead singer Erika Wennerstrom is really something special. My friend Kim put it best, when she said "she is who Karen O. wants to be." You get the idea.

Good pizza, good show. You can't ask for much more on a Friday night. Tonight--the Hold Steady! Excited, but it's a Wednesday and I need to be home by midnight.