New Home

My good friend, Erin and I, have both relocated. Me to East Hollywood, and Erin to Charleston with her husband, Brandon(my old roommate!). Right before she left we were talking about how to make the most of a move and we impulsively made a commitment that we would be adventurous. Adventurous at least once a week. What does that mean? Well, we’d get out of our house, and try something different, be that a new coffee shop, or a restaurant, or walk a new street, or meet a neighbor, anything, really, that would mean activity and exploration. And then we must blog.

So, I started.

Week #1 of my adventures in East Hollywood –
This is going to be a little shaky, because i can’t remember the name of the restaurant, and I didn’t take a photo, but, but, around the corner of Vermont and Normal, walking distance from my apartment, is the cheapest Mexican restaurant I’ve ever been to. This last Wednesday on whim, I decided I was too lazy to make dinner, so I took a walk and ended up at the little dive restaurant with the sign that said 99cent Papusas. Now I’ll be honest- I’d already visited this restaurant with my friend, Peter — but I’m still going to count it. The papusas were awesome. And even more awesome were the toothless, old timers, that sat at the counter singing Spanish songs in harmony. One of them offered to buy me a drink and called me an angel. And then while I waited for my food, I discussed religion, soccer, and Buenos Aires with a friendly “actor”(Everyone’s an “actor” in LA), all within about 10 minutes (he was quite revealing of everything – as “actors” tend to be — that he was Chilean/Argentine, that he practiced a mix of early celtic naturalism mixed with Buddhism, and that he played soccer all his life). He recommended I visit the self-realization meditation center on Sunset. Perhaps that will be my next trip. Perhaps.

I chose to eat at home though. I would have stayed if I could have just been an observer – but everyone was friendly and ready to chat. So, I crawled back to my home. Another time? Maybe.



Here is something I don’t understand…

How people can hate black licorice. 


To Coffee or not To Coffee

I always wanted to be a coffee drinker.  It seems such a sophisticated act.  Waking early, brewing beans while your bare toes stretch and tap on your hardwood floor, opening the morning paper to your favorite column while sipping out of your over-sized ceramic mug that you picked up on that road-trip through Portland.  But alas, coffee and me don’t agree.  Once that strong caffeinated beverage hits my blood stream, I’m a mess – senile, paranoid and ideas like, “I should run a Marathon today!” seem reasonable.  But I do love that strong aroma and every once in awhile, like today, I give into the temptation and pour myself a cup.  So now my hands are shaking and I’m convinced there’s a leprechaun waiting to steal my pot of gold.  He’ll get his.  Oh yes, he’ll get his. 

But here’s to coffee!



I’ve been stealing Pam (coworker’s) yogurt periodically.  I’m now in love with this yogurt. 


All natural Greek strained Yogurt with honey.  Mmmm…..

On a different note, I bought Trader Joe’s Green Veggie Juice today and it was the worst thing I ever drank in my life.


Me:  The only reason I’m still friends with David is because he brings me Pupusas.

Pam:  You could always buy your own Pupusas. 

David:  (Says nothing.  Continues silently reading magazine with disinterested expression.). 


(taken from