Thanksgiving Shopping

Though Thanksgiving day shopping is arguably sacrilegious, I went out Thursday evening.

My mom wanted an iPod, and I was looking for a deal on a mini Keurig coffee maker. So in the morning, I poured over the newspaper advertisements, determining Best Buy and Target would be the stores for the goods.

We left the house at 5:40 to get to Best Buy for 6pm. Oddly, there were people milling about the entrance to the store. "Folks, please go to the end of the line," an exasperated security guard intoned. The line wound through the stereo installation car port and past the building. With flyer in hand, we walked to the end of the line.

We had a nice conversation with a school librarian as we waited. Once the doors opened, the line moved quickly. Plenty of staff were on hand to help us find what we wanted. The only pushing and shoving were accidental – big purses, shopping carts, and small aisles aren't a good mix.

Once we found the iPod, (or rather, a tag for a blue one), a case and Bluetooth speaker, we headed for the checkout line - another maze which wound through the large appliances section.

Profusely apologetic, the young man could not find the desired blue device. But as I had drilled my mom about her second, third, and fourth color choices, we were still able to walk out of the store satisfied with a lime green option.

We were home by 7:10, in time for me to buy 2 albums and a single from iTunes, transfer them to her iPod, and test out the Bluetooth speaker.

I arrived at Target at ~ 7:56pm, parking on the far side of the store by the senior center. I didn't have far to walk to get to the back of the line.

A man was handing out pamphlets,

 

 

explaining that people would be let in groups, the special TVs were all spoken for, Apple products could only be bought in the electronics section, and the check out line would wind through the beauty department.

I opened the pamphlet and was surprised to find a map of where to find the special deals. Is this de rigueur for Black Friday – er – Thursday shopping?

Happily, the coffee maker I wanted was in its regular section. Despite a long wait at the checkout (I was behind a man who had two 50" TVs and was signing up for a Target card), I was home by 9.

No promises I'll do it again next year –who knows where I'll be or what gifts I'll want to get. But this year, shopping Thanksgiving evening worked just fine. 

Thinkings and Such

A few things that have been on my mind. Or were on my mind when they first came about (i.e., Re #3).

Re: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland [SPOILER ALERT]

Alice's stepmom wanted her to meet Mr. Darcy's son. Mr. Darcy's. Son. Still giggling.

Re: KTVU Asiana Air gaffe

The more I think about the KTVU Asiana Air gaffe, the more I hear one of friends saying those pilots' names. Because we all have that uncle/cousin/grandpa/husband's friend who says such things.

I hear him say it, and, I'm not gonna lie to you Marge – it's funny. In a sigh and smile and shake your head kind of way. Because that's the type of person your uncle/cousin/grandpa/husband's friend is. And it's been said in private.

So for all my blustery upset-ness about it, the biggest problem was, upon reflection, that it was said in public. As if reading or saying the words didn't elicit the light chuckle, sigh, and shaking of the head. As if no one could discern it was a joke.

Re: Miley Cyrus

I saw her MTV VMA performance when it first aired. My initial reaction?

Wow. She's sexually vulgar. I am not surprised.

(Because she briefly worked a pole at a Kid's Choice Awards? performance several years ago. The devolution into overt sex-ness was already underway.)

Within the resultant hoopla, people were criticizing her dancing.

Wait, what? She was dancing?

Dear Google Maps App,

Los Angeles is a world-renowned city. Your map lady should know how to pronounce La Cienaga.

Sincerely,

People talk about the JFK assassination the way I'll likely talk about 9/11 on its 50^th anniversary. Such a searing of the national consciousness.

An LA Tour

I took a weekend to explore some of the areas where I'd seen apartments for rent. Mid-Wilshire/Koreatown and North Hollywood, to name a few. My itinerary was carefully planned.

First stop: 608 S Westlake

Traveling on the 101 & 170.

Hey, there's an exit for the Hollywood Bowl! Hey, there's the exit for Highland! Hollywood & Highland must be that way! Hey, there's Hollywood Towers! Looks like it could've been an inspiration for the Disney's Tower of Terror! Wow, there is absolutely no traffi…oop. Spoke too soon.

The exit I took had me driving towards Historic Filipinotown. I ended up going in circles (unsurprising), driving on Wilshire through MacArthur Park. On the map, this part of town is called Westlake. Not to be confused with Westlake Village in the Valley.

Next Stop: 333 S Catalina and 974 S Catalina

I took the surface streets.

<streetcar voice> Next stop, 3^rd & Vermont. Koreatown.

At the next stoplight

<streetcar voice> Next stop, 3^rd & New Hampshire. Little Bangladesh.

So this is Mid-Wilshire. Nice little area, with the more expensive apartments closer to 3^rd. I can appreciate the place.

Next Stop: 1025 N Serrano Ave

It took me forever to find this building – I was going in circles with the Apple map app. Then I was instructed to turn right on a street that only seemed to go left. . .

I should've started with Google Maps. She talks to me. And flashes instructions on the screen. Even if the phone is locked.

I'm not quite sure what part of the city I was in. But it added to my suspicion that I'm not up for LA city living at this point in my life. On to the

Next Stop: 7727 Lankershim and 6408 Lankershim

Back on the 170, past the Hollywood Bowl, to North Hollywood.

I've driven on Laurel Canyon once. It was lovely; lush foliage, the serenity of nature. I thought North Hollywood would be similar.

Au contraire, mon frère. I drove by a swap meet. A Swap Meet.

It was time for lunch.

Next Stop: Taste of Chicago

The restaurant is across the street from a shopping center. Parking is paltry; the bathrooms, accessed from outside with a key. I think the site might have previously been a gas station.

Polish dog with caramelized onions and mustard on a poppy seed bun. A Pelligrino instead of the always delectable root beer. Sitting in a sunny back corner of the restaurant, I could see the cars drive by on my right. To my left was a small, classy photo of the late Dennis Farina, a dear friend of the restaurant's owner.

It was my first polish dog without ketchup.

My day seems to be going pretty much as I had planned, I lamented to myself, having forgotten the morning's surprises. There seemed to be no adventure, nothing magical. My expectations were not blown, North Hollywood notwithstanding.

Next Stop: The Beverly Center

I took the surface streets.

I drove past the shopping center and

Is that the Warner Bros. Water Tower? Nah, I don't see the WB symbol, like on Animaniacs.

I look to my right.

Omigoodness, that's a studio entrance! Eyes on the road, don't get into an accident.

Upcoming on my left is a building with a mural. Robin from Teen Titans. And Superman. And Wonder Woman. And a load of other cartoon characters standing in front of the Justice League building.

<screams of delight>

Eyes on the road, eyes on the road

More studio entrances are to my right, and

As I come to the end of the street, I can read the words "Warner Bros. Studio" on the water tower.

<oddly, my screams sound like a cackling bird>

Calm down, don’t' get into an accident, you're going onto curvy road

Eventually, traffic begins to slow as I pass the Hollywood Bowl.

I'm driving by the Hollywood Bowl!

And then I come upon what looks to be some sort of mall and/or movie theatre. Which confuses me – I can't possibly be there yet. And why does it feel so touristy?

Because I'm on Hollywood Blvd. And I'm about to cross Highland. Where there's a Ripley's Believe or Not museum on one of the corners.

I'm at Hollywood & Highland!

It's not a big thing, but I never imagined I would be at Hollywood & Highland, even if only for a stoplight.

Or drive by the Hollywood Bowl. Or see the Warner Brothers Water Tower.

Expectations - -Poof.

One of Those Days

One evening, I decided to change the towel bar in the bathroom.

I know – normally this is a weekend kind of job. But changing a wall-mounted towel rack takes, what, an hour max? Surely it could be done on a weeknight.

Except the old towel rack was not typical. See, most racks you buy have hidden screws (the new one, in fact, has hidden screws). But when we remodeled the bathroom, I chose a rack that did not have this common feature.

So when I took the old rack down. . .

First the anchors for the screws (or were they mounting brackets?) dropped into the wall as I unscrewed the towel bar. Surprising how ominous the sound of something falling out of reach and out of sight is.

When the bar was completely off, there were holes in the wall. Not giant holes. Just big enough to forcefully shove a dime through.

The night now belonged to spackle. Off to Home Depot at 7:45 PM.

(7:45 at night might be when you're normally out and about. But I don't go out after dark unless it's with or for friends or family. You should probably stay off my lawn.)

Puttering along, I get pulled over by a cop. Which was slightly nerve racking, since I was issued a citation in December for almost hitting an officer while attempting a lane change (Driving While Extremely Tired). I did online traffic school and everything, but I can't get another hit on my record for something like a year or 18 months, so

I pulled over and he said something through the loudspeaker which I heard as "Move up, please" but then he said it again and it was actually "PULL INTO THE PARKING LOT" so I pulled my seatbelt back on while I slowly driving into one of the lesser known lots of the Hilton Hotel.

"I pulled you over because your headlight is out," he said, though he didn’t specify which headlight. Sitting for an unbearably long time as he took my license, registration, and insurance and (presumably) ran me several times through his SMOD*, I stared into the bushes. (It seemed uncouth to turn on the radio or play with my phone.)

I guessed it was the passenger side light, which I verified with him when he brought my stuff back and before he sent me on my way.

Challenge # 2 - a new headlight. I remember my dad changing one of the headlights on his car as we were on our way to his house one weekend. He changed it in the parking lot! So I should be able to change a headlight, right?

Plan A: Get instructions from the internet. Take light bulb out of car during lunch break. Drive to auto parts store after work, show them the light bulb, buy the replacement, go home, change light bulb, eat dinner.

Plan B: Get instructions from the internet. Drive to auto parts store after work, ask them the light bulb for my car, buy the replacement, go home, change light bulb, eat dinner

Plan B. Because the first set of instructions I found were rubbish, and by the time I found something useful, my lunch time was over.

I ended up buying two light bulbs; it seemed wise to have them both be spanking new. The change out took roughly an hour, with 58 minutes devoted to pushing the wire thing in and down to lock the new bulbs into place. You'd think after doing one, the second would be faster, but noooo.

My back was not amused. For several hours.

But, I was still able to install the new towel rack before bedtime. A victorious ending to one of those days.

  

*You'll have to watch the first 30 minutes of the Blues Brothers. Not Blues Brothers 2000. The Blues Brothers.