Hallucination?

On Monday, while trying to get to work, I turned onto the Avenue of the Stars and saw smooth gray statues of animals. Jaguars, casually pacing. Deer, likely frolicking in the brush.

Since I've now managed to get to work 45 minutes early, I decided to cruise the Avenue with a calmer heartbeat. And I get another look at those statues.

Anticipation was high when I turned down the street. I was greeted by a beautiful fountain. Not a statue in sight.

Maybe they start at the next island

Nothing but another large, lovely fountain.

But the deer…I saw the deer right before I made that U-turn. Right

There. No deer.

Either the statues are easily removed for cloudy days,

Or I was hallucinating.

To Downtown Beverly Hills

My current temp assignment has me working at a real estate firm in Downtown(?) Beverly Hills. To get there, I could

Take the 101 to the 405, or

Take Coldwater Canyon, or

Take Beverly Glen.

I opted for Coldwater Canyon. Partly because at the 101/405 split, most of the cars were going on the 405.

Thus

Coldwater Canyon to Mulholland to Coldwater Canyon to Beverly Drive, turn right to stay on Beverly Drive, then right on Santa Monica, left on Linden, left on Wilshire, left on Roxbury to get into the parking garage, and

TA-DA! <Jazz Hands>

Have you ever been on Telegraph/Hwy 13, near the Claremont Hotel in Berkeley? All twisty and windy with posh houses tucked in the hill's crevices? Coldwater to Mulholland to Coldwater is like that. Only there are a few stoplights in the middle. And the houses are bigger and gated.

As Coldwater turns to Beverly, the houses expand in girth, and the street becomes clearly lined by towering palms.

Well onto Beverly, the street widens. Two cars interspersed with a pair of Smart for Twos can fit comfortably side by side.

A right turn onto Santa Monica. It's an expressway. There's Linden, but it only goes right. Perhaps it has a left turn further up?

Wait, that's Wilshire. But it's on a sort of diagonal, and I can't turn onto it. < small whimpering panic>.

Century Park? Avenue of the Stars? Multiple animal statues in the medians? No stopping anytime? <growl-y panic nipping fiercely at tinges of childish wonder>.

Oop – U-turn possible <flickering embers of confidence and hope>.

Wait, what? There are two Santa Monica Blvds? I don't remember Google saying anything about that. I'll take the Local – it seems to traverse amongst the buildings.

Ahhh

a place to park,

a place to breathe,

a place to map.

A Five Hour Job

Inventory.

By counting the number of items in a store, a company can assess their current worth and confirm the size of their theft problem. It's hard to tell how much is stolen if you don't know how much you have – and how much you should have.

We were told to pack light, and to try not to bring any bags. I brought my purse, into which I packed water and a sandwich. Five hours with a 10 minute break? A girl's gotta eat.

As roughly 50 temps amassed outside the doors, shoppers were curious and anxious. Are you waiting to shop? Is there some sort of special sale going on?

Once inside, we were taught how to use a scanner.

Ooo, it's like phaser! someone said. Or did they say taser?

Once trained, we were sent to different departments of the store. I was sent to women's shoes.

Ahhhh Yeahhh.

The store was silent, but for the beeps of scanners, and whispered God Bless Yous in response to sneezes.

Scan the shelf barcode. Take the shoe box off of the rack; ensure it contains a proper pair. Scan the code on the right shoe. Repeat until you've taken all of the boxes off of that shelf. Press a button on the scanner. Count the boxes you've taken off of the shelf. Enter the number into the scanner. Hoorah! It Balances! Write that number, and your initials, on the sticker that has the shelf barcode. Next!

There were six shelves on a rack, with a mode* of six boxes to a shelf. Up, down, up, down, crouch, twist, count, write, up, down

My organized self was aghast. Only 10% of the shoes were in the correct box. Do I want to know why a pair of 4-inch heels were in a box meant for knee-high boots?

Naturally, I had to put the shoes neatly back into the boxes. I'm not great with the spacial, so it took me a little longer, especially when it came to boots. If I put the right boot in this way, the left boot goes upside down and – no wait, that's not working. Maybe if I try   uh, no. Oh! There it is!

After an hour, I was trembling, my muscles unused to repetitive physical exertion. Still, I wasn't sore when I went to bed that night.

No, soreness would come by the middle of the next day. I was unable to squat to the floor to pick up a piece of paper without wincing in pain.

It's taken another 48 hours to get to an almost pain free 95% mobility.

That's why exercise is important, kids. You never know when you'll be asked to do inventory.

*as in mean, median, mode. 'member?

'lette - a review

 I recently sampled the fare of 'lette, a shop which sells only macarons.

When I think of macarons, I think of those yummy, sometimes slightly oily, coconut cookies. Those are called macaroons, and these are nothing like them.

Imagine a vanilla wafer sandwich with filling. Now, instead of vanilla wafer, think of a sort of almond paste meringue. Firm enough to hold in the hand, soft and slightly chewy at the bite.

(clockwise from left): caramel, violet cassis, lemon, rose

And the filling

Caramel tasted just like a quality piece of caramel from a candy bin. Gooey and yummy.

Violet cassis reminded me of candy egg at Easter. The filling includes a bit of jam – currant, perhaps?

Lemon had just the right strength. It was like a little lemon bar

Rose tasted like roses, which may sound both logical and strange. It's a delicate flavor, perfect for a tea party.

In fact, all of them would do well for a tea party. Or dessert. Or mid-morning snack. Or

You get the picture. These things are yummy. I will be eating more of them.

More information about 'lette can be found online at lettemacarons.com.

Back on LinkedIn

Because when the person interviewing you says you should be on LinkedIn, you get on LinkedIn.

I filled in all of the fields I saw, and clicked Create Profile.

Ruh-Roh. I need to select and industry.

This is my biggest LinkedIn dread. If I pick an industry I want, my work history doesn't reflect it. In the past, I picked the industry I worked in, an industry I was trying to escape. I kept getting job offers for that industry. What to choose?

Entertainment? I'm still quite fascinated with the industry

Events Services? Working with an Event Coordinator, running around day of, seems right up my alley

Design? I do like pretty things

Media Production? Oooo, I'd like to help with that!

Performing Arts? Someday I'll get back to community theatre

And the winner is. . .

Writing and Editing. Because even without a job, I still write. It's a constant, regardless of the industry I work in.

This new LinkedIn profile is not a perfect picture. But it is the modern resume. This late adopter has to get with the times.

Tropicana Farmstand Peach Mango – A Review

Tropicana Farmstand Peach Mango is "100% Fruit & Vegetable Juice". I imagine it's meant to compete with V8's Splash and Fusion lines.

There's not a strong peach flavor, with peach being fourth on the ingredient list after reconstituted clarified sweet potato juice, grape juice, and apple juice.

There's no mango flavor to speak of at all, and with good reason. Not only is mango puree the last main ingredient, it's comprised of the ingredients that came before it:

Reconstituted clarified sweet potato juice, grape juice, apple juice and peach puree, carrot juice and mango puree (filtered water, clarified sweet potato juice, grape juice, peach puree, apple juice, mango puree and carrot juice concentrates), natural flavors, citric acid, ascorbic acid (Vitamin C), and beta-carotene

In other words, a drop of mango sludge for every 46 oz bottle.

If the goal was to mask any taste of vegetable, Tropicana failed. Granted, the vegetables in question are sweet potato and carrot – not bad tasting veggies. But one is aware.

I bought the juice because I am recovering from a cold and tired of orange juice, and orange mango juice, and peach orange mango juice. I wanted something juice-y and citrus-y, but not orange.

It did not satisfy on that front.

However, it doesn't taste bad. Unique, but not unpalatable. I could see it in a blended drink, like a smoothie (I'm going to try it with ice cream). I sense something similar in the V8 lines would better mask the presence of vegetable, a theory I need to test.

So

Tropicana Farmstand Peach Mango: not really peach, no mango to speak of, strong whiff of a generally yummy orange vegetable (probably sweet potato). Quenches the thirst, but not as soothing as orange juice if your sinuses are inflamed from a cold.

New Year, New Location

On January 1, 2014, I drove to Southern California with the intent to re-locate.

I don't have a job yet, and my housing situation is week to week. Sounds crazy, I know. But consider:

You're only as good as the last thing you were in, right? I spent the past 10 years doing data entry. And folks don't seem interested in hiring a data entry person who is 300 miles away. Believe me, if I could've gotten a job prior to moving, I would have.

For the moment, I'm living off of savings. Upon arrival, I was going to stay at a hotel which charges ~$899 + tax per month. Sweet price, right? Well. . .the lobby smells like smoke and there are security bars everywhere. They accept cash, money order, and cashier's check –no credit cards. It's Elwood Blues' Building. I'll probably be living there next month.

In the meantime, I'm taking cheap deals from Priceline for Extended Stay America. Stove top, refrigerator, and free WiFi in the room. It's a relief not to have to camp out at Starbucks or McDonald's all day.

I've been to two temp agencies – a local branch of my most recent employer, and another located in Glendale. Across from the mall.

The mall.

I've been to a lot of malls:

Burbank (posh, yet ghettolicious),

Westfield Topanga (with Tesla showroom & two tier carousel),

Sherman Oaks Galleria (underwhelming for something seen while driving on the freeway),

Northridge (very much like Stoneridge in Pleasanton – except for the little train),

Glendale Galleria (must go back and buy from the macaroon store).

Yep. When I need to get away from the laptop, free parking and exercise through window shopping.

Amidst the hardscape and lack of left turn signals, there are sprigs of familiarity. I go to Vons because it's Safeway. I heard Lisa St. Regis and Tony Sandoval on the radio.

But I'm not really homesick. Just

ready for a new adventure.

The Bamboozler Returns

Wherein in this account, the cussing exists, but is light.

It's 2014. The last thing I expected was an email from The Bamboozler, informing me of a check in the mail for $4500. He even provided a tracking number.

(I checked. It was legit.)

An amount more than twice what is owed me. Is this remorse?

<Light chuckles bubble into belly aching laughter. Tears stream from the corner of the eyes as air is gulped, then sipped. Composure regained.>

I was to keep my $1800; $2600 was to be sent to his brother-in-law in the army, $100 was for the transfer fee.

Are   You   Nuts? I'm not sending any money to anyone on your behalf. I'll keep what's mine and send back what's yours. Seriously. What makes you think I trust you? And who asks a stranger to send money to relatives?

It took me a couple days to deal with the check that came. (Yes, an actual check came.) In the meantime,

Have you handled it yet?

No, not yet.

Can you lend me $1800, and take the rest from the check?

Can I WHAT?! Oh, Hell No.

No.

Please, it's a life or death situation.

Sorry. If it was that serious, then you shouldn't have sent it to me in the first place. Dumbass. My schedule will not allow me to move any faster.

Oh, alright. I understand. Perhaps by Friday?

Now, I had already called my bank to see what would happen if I deposited a bad check. The representative advised me to go to the issuing bank and try to cash it. If it could be cashed, all was good. And that was what I intended to do, except

The issuing bank was in New York. And not named Chase. No branches in California.

So, I called them. As suspected, the check is bad news. If I had deposited it in my account, not only would it bounce, it would probably mess up my credit. The lady on the phone said I should contact the police. While I added the info to my existing internet complaint, I'm thinking I need to report it to another agency. With a physical check, it might not be considered an internet crime.

What to tell The Bamboozler?

According to the bank from which the check was issued, the check is bad. Unfortunately, I cannot cash what was sent.

Here's hoping the ensuing silence remains.

Bamboozled

Hey. I cuss a bit in this piece. A warning.

After years of thinking about it, I decided to do it. Move to Southern California. But when I looked for job, there seemed a preference for those with a SoCal address.

I had a little bit in savings, so I started looking for places to call home. I would live off my savings while finding work. The complexes on rent.com and the like were too expensive; I turned to Craigslist.

In medium print, Craigslist encourages you to avoid scams and resist sending money via MoneyGram or Western Union. See the place in person, they say.

Which makes sense if you're moving within a region, but is quite difficult if you're attempting to re-locate across a wide expanse. Pictures should be enough, right? How do people move across country?

 $600 / 1br - 1 bedroom, 1 bath Condo (Washer, Dryer, Central AC & More) (north hollywood)

The 700 square feet condo comes with 1 tandem parking spaces in the gated garage. Additionally, the duplex comes with FIREPLACE, central A/C, central heater, stove/oven, refrigerator, dishwaher, garbage disposal, washer, dryer, PRIVATE PATIO, tile floors and carpets in the bedrooms. The kitchen was just completely remodeled

What got me was the washer & dryer. For $600 a month? In North Hollywood? Lemme ask about this.

First, last & deposit, a link to pictures of the interior, and an address I could Google Map. Husband, wife and young child had re-located to Texas for work, and were looking for someone who wouldn't trash the place. The photos looked good, the location, do-able.

I now know the application was bogus. But I completed it.

Application approved! MoneyGram $1200 to the wife, and you'll be sent a FedEx with the keys, etc.

Done. What's the FedEx tracking number?

Actually, an additional $600 is needed – first, last, and deposit, you see.

I see. I flinched. But it was mentioned beforehand. . .MoneyGram completed.

What's the FedEx tracking number?

Oh, so sorry, it was sent via US Postal Service and there's no tracking number. . .Hey, if you pay for 3 more months, I'll give you a month free!

No thanks. I'll stick to the original agreement.

We have someone willing to pay 8 months in advance. But if it looks like this isn't going to work out, I'll refund your money.

Good for them. I'll take the refund, please.

Okay, okay, how about just one more month and you get a month free? I'm really trying to prove to my lawyer and my wife that you would be a good responsible tenant.

Are you fucking out of your mind? I'm so fucking gullible I just MoneyGram'd you $1800 and you want me to "prove my trustworthiness" by sending you more money? Please.

Give me my money. Asshole.

Since the property was located in North Hollywood, I contact the LAPD to find out how to file a complaint. Being an internet crime, it's technically under FBI jurisdiction. My complaint needed to be filed at ic3.gov. Done and done.

Let me know when you receive the package I sent, and I'll send the refund.

You know and I know you never sent me a package. I'll let you know when it arrives.

I'm never going to get my money back. My growing suspicions bloomed too late for me to cancel the transfers. In my eagerness to get a place in Southern California, I was bamboozled.