The Walrus said...

"The time has come, the Walrus said
to talk of many things:
of shoes--and ships--and sealing wax--
of cabbages--and kings--
and why the sea is boiling hot--
and whether pigs have wings."

---Lewis Carroll

Why start a blog this way, I cannot say, only that this childhood rhyme, which I used to read to myself out loud in a sing-song voice just came to me.

The time has come...perhaps this is why I chose the poem, for the time has come for me to move on from Los Angeles Magazine. A good internship I've had, and I'm leaving a sort of security net. It seems that making a choice between two important things has become increasingly difficult for me. For each road I take, I think of the other road's lost opportunities and awaiting gains. The idea that the road not taken may afford something better for me, which might ultimately change my life in a way I'd like it to, weighs heavily on me and the decision becomes more torturous to make.

I feel this way about LA Mag. I probably could remain an intern for a few more months, or even a few years, hoping to land a staff spot at the magazine. But, I am good enough to write articles, not simply fact check, and although the market may be the toughest it's ever been, I know I am a solid writer, deserving of pay for articles.

Where to now? I don't know. Am I scared? Yes. But here's at least one thing I learned during my tenure at the magazine: if you're not confident in yourself, why should anyone else be? If you're a horse you wouldn't bet on, why expect anyone else to bet on you either?

Why?

Why is it that once I've gotten in touch with someone seemingly non-judgmental, I feel nothing but inadequate? He says I can be as creative as I want. This should be empowering, but for some reason it isn't. Instead, I feel as though I have to live up to huge expectations, that I want to impress this person. Why? Not only does his personal philosophy eschew any need for judgment, but why do I feel as though I have to impress this person? Why is it that I feel I need to show him how far I've come, what I've done, who I've dated, so on and so forth.

Because he matters, my voice tells me. Because as much as I've always wanted him not to matter, to mean nothing to me, he will always mean something to me. He will always be the one I felt so much for. He will always be that person I wish I could have meant so much to. One begets the other; if you really dig someone you really hope they dig you too. And when they don't you spend too much time trying to figure out how you could strike it so good with someone if they weren't meant to feel that same way about you.

Miranda Lambert says it best when she sings "I hate you but I can't let go."

And that is the sad truth about the matter. No matter how much I try to move on with my life, he'll always be there, with his dark hair, lean frame and motorcycle leather. But I can and have chosen to move forward and other fantastic things have come as well. If he haunts me, I choose to have him haunt me as a ghost of the past instead of a memory of the present. After all, I have too much to do, too many things to succeed at and conquer. Too many people to laugh with and love. Andrew, that means you.

Crazy Heart Movie Review

I haven't watched the Golden Globes yet, but I can see why Jeff Bridges was nominated as Best Actor for Crazy Heart.

Everything about him, from his years-of-smoking cough, to his whiskey addled voice and the way he drawls--he embodies the perfect portrayal of the once famous, still talented, burnt-out country star he plays. It's a bit eerie how much he looks like a mix between Kris Kristofferson and Merle Haggard; that's precisely the kind of heartfelt, bad living cowboy crooner he's playing.

Maggie Gyllenhaal, who I've never been a fan of, was fantastic in the role of a free spirited, passionate woman tamed by her protectiveness for her son and let free by her love for Bridges' Blake. She is the portrait of a woman who is amazed and feeling too lucky to be loved by Blake, because her bones are telling her he's bound to hurt her. Love her he does...whole-heartedly, in a way that the audience knows is special. Hurt her, he does as well.

This is a story about the redemption and comeback of a talented has-been and Bridges plays it like a pro. Making the film that much richer is Robert Duvall playing Blake's friend and only permanent tie to the world. Any film with Duvall playing a cowboy or western cohort, is made richer by his presence.

This film is also a love song about country music and the west, as the camera lingers on scenes of blue sky, big white storm clouds, wheat and red canyon rock. "Crazy Heart" isn't bloated or too big, just on point enough with big actors who play it accurately and quietly, in a film about a man's crazy heart and the love that inspires his return to life and notoriety.

Sherlock Holmes Movie Review

I was raised on British television; I remember Masterpiece Theater, Diana Rigby introducing that night's mystery in her velvety tones and intriguing voice. I remember the really cheesy and low budget original Dr. Who with the fuzzy edged monsters. I was raised on Babar and Tintin cartoons and I'm always mystified that so many people mistake the boy detective of Tintin with the dog on Rin Tin Tin. No, they are not the same thing---go get yourself an Herge comic book and learn something from Tintin and his brave dog Snowy. I was raised on British productions of Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot and think no one could portray that detective better than David Suchet.

I was raised on British television. One of my fondest memories stems from watching the Sherlock Holmes series that featured Jeremy Brett. I have an extreme fondness for Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law, (something about them being great actors and my weakness for tall, dark and handsome men), but I wasn't sure I wanted to see someone else attempt to portray a character I associated so closely with the skilled arrogance and wise deduction of Jeremy Brett's Holmes.

However, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised by Downey's Sherlock. He's taken a page from Brett's book---Downey plays the character with a mix of conceit, arrogance, brilliance and social awkwardness. But Downey's Holmes is a bit more rakish; he deduces things about people Brett's Holmes wouldn't care enough about to even speak to. Downey's Holmes has a bit more warmth in his eyes as well. This new Holmes does not act as if Watson is a companion, but more like a best friend, a brother. And that's where the film's conflict comes from.

For Law's part, this Watson plays better than Holmes' sidekick; he's Holmes' adventurous equal--brave, strong, able to clock a man or two in the face. This Watson is also more fleshed out. We know about his engagement to a woman he cares for, and how his curiosity leads him into dark corners and dangerous alleys with Holmes even though he knows there's a good woman and warm household waiting for him.

If you haven't seen Sherlock Holmes and you think it might be your type of movie, or you're not sure if Downey and Law can pull off the first dynamic duo---go see the film. I'll warn you it's a bit long. But if you're down with a little occult mixed in with your crime mystery and thriller starring two great actors in beloved roles, you won't be let down.

"Revolution" by Miranda Lambert

When I'd first read previews of Miranda Lambert's latest album release "Revolution," I wasn't sure this "softer, more feminine, more well-rounded" Lambert was one I was going to like. Soft? From the woman who blazed into Nashville with the Steve Earle sound-alike-tune of Kerosene; that song where she growls "light 'em up and watch them burn." It was this very harshness and brashness of the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend that I liked.

And by the way, just so you're clear, I am so enamored of Lambert's strong voice, style and boldness that if she were my guy's crazy ex-girlfriend, I'd want to knock a beer down with her, lean over and kiss her, all the while being terrified of her vengeance. Make no mistake, when it comes to Lambert, I'm an unabashed groupie.

The real shocker of "Revolution" is that her softer, more wistful songs of which there are a good handful on the album, don't detract from that wild, brazen, fun-loving blonde we've come to admire and fear. Her sweeter, poignant songs enhance her personality as if to show that within a lioness lies a lamb and the heart of the lamb is as fierce as a lioness.

The same strength of character a person needs to make country music on traditional and pop-driven Music Row all while singing about burning tradition to the ground is repeated in songs like "Love Song" and "Makin' Plans." Are these softer? Undoubtedly. Amongst beautiful melodies Lambert knows herself well enough that she can sing about that strength of her relationship...."I'm not easy to understand/ but you know me like the back of your hand/ I'm your girl and you're my man." And in "Love Song" where she knows that sometimes the truest signs of love is when her man knows when to hold her when she's crying and she knows when you love a man, sometimes all he needs is some space.

Her brilliance for wordplay doesn't falter especially on her tune "The House That Built Me." Returning to a childhood home with a shattered sense of self, she revels in finding who she is; houses are built, but this song emphasizes how sometimes, a home can build a person.

Okay. Now that we've established her soft side isn't sickening, but strong in its vulnerability, I must return to what Lambert does best-singing rollicking songs to the gut. In her rougher-hewed album opener, "White Liar" she adds a twist to the story. Yes, he's a white liar and she doesn't understand. But Miranda, fed up with the lies of a bad liar let's him know she's vindictively been lying too.

When "Only Prettier" starts with a hard pounding guitar, thrashing drums and a fearsome scream--you know she's having fun when she's telling "high life people" she's just like them, only prettier (and cooler). She gives this same strict crowd a good one-two when she reminds them in "Heart Like Mine" that if Jesus could calm storms and speak of eternal forgiveness, He would be the perfect person to understand a rough heart like hers. Yes He would, and we do too.

Buy her album, turn it on, listen through, and you'll come to love Miranda more for her personal revolution.

2009

A few months ago, the owls came. Perched in pine trees and allowed my dogs to howl and howl at them. Were they a harbinger for what would come next?

Europeans believed that raptors and birds of the crow family were carrion-- war birds that feasted on death and signaled that the reaper was close at hand. Caesar said as much in Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar."

Symbolically, owls were also known as the bird of wisdom. Perhaps this was due to their flight and speed acuity and especially their keen ability to see in the darkness; a skill that humans admired as it is so easy to lose one's way when the darkness falls.

"I don't scare easy. I don't fall apart when I'm under the gun. You can break my heart and I'm not gonna run, I don't scare easy for no one/ I'm a loser at the top of my game."-----Tom Petty

The year of 2009 started out devastatingly....Last Christmas I barely made it out of frozen Portland, all but my airplane grounded due to snow. I wanted to see my family and did, and saw Amelia in the apartment and life I wished could be mine. I took one look at my cat Phoebe lying next to my mom under the covers and I knew then that I didn't want to leave. Dragged my ass back to PDX where I realized how lonely I was. Wanted and deserved a pet, something to love. Found Miss Kitty on the chair under my window. Took another cat in and found the limits of a friendship I thought would be there and have my back forever. Discovered a new friendship with a fellow writer. Mara took me in during those dark weekends. As did Lora and Emily. Almost lost Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty and I are told to move out and started to look for a new place where I could find companionship. Did that and was laid off. At this point, saddened beyond tears that I couldn't stay for my beloved Portland spring and summer. April. Packed up the car, almost cried at the Oregon/ California state border. Still pining for Sean. Got home. Restless, listless and felt completely lost. Freelanced for Pasadena Weekly. Sat at coffee shop typing away in the heat and look to my left, notice a good looking man that seems very familiar. Joel Garcia? Yes. Exchange numbers. Go out. Butterflies and kisses. Carnovsky tea parties and meeting new people. Front page feature story for Pasadena Weekly. Rekindle old friendships and gain new ones. Good people all around. May/ June, Gallus and I no longer dating. Saddened and try to kill pain. Put myself out into the world and meet Greg. Good, good man. He shows me they exist, those men that are kind and sweet and ones that have loving hearts---ones that can love me. Stray and hurt him. Sorry, so sorry. Los Angeles Magazine contacts me. I start interning and writing for the publication's website. July 29, Lucy's 51. Young man, head bent, sitting in the shadows facing the door. I stand there and look at him. Andrew. He finally looks up from his phone and I shake his hand and say, "Hi, I'm Carolyn," full of nerves, so nervous, I'm about to jump out of my skin. Can he see I'm shaking? Peach flavored drink later he takes my hand and tells me how pretty and feminine it is. He looks at me and brushes the bangs off my forehead. Walking towards Warner Brothers at a crosswalk and he looks down and kisses me. Sit in my car at end of night and smile. Early August. Andrew drives me to the beach. Rock scaling. Packed lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and water bottles. Sun hitting his eyes harshly. Makeshift tent with his jacket to shield our eyes. Drive up the coast, into Ventura. Gained boyfriend and relationship. Drive to Griffith Park Observatory where we talk on a hill looking at that full moon. Start working as a Page for CBS. Paycheck and future possibilities. August 29, one month. Special day and night. October 3rd. Celebration of my birthday at Getty Villa and fancy dinner. November, he is present at our Thanksgiving dinner table. He feels welcome in my house. December. I scare him into thinking I might run. He says his anxiety over me leaving is outweighed by his love for me.

The year is winding down and I can't help but look back at my progress. I went from a job that paid the bills but not the soul. Came home and was pleasantly surprised to be embraced lovingly by old friends. Relationships strengthened and I met more good people. I now consider myself extremely lucky because I have a great group of new and old friends who care about me. And I have a very good man that loves me. And I love him.

At the top of the year, I feared I no one outside of the Portland Sentinel would publish me. I've now written for two additional publications. The year's not over yet and that's fine with me, because it's been the worst of times and it's been the best of times.

Buttermilk Truck Review: Tasty, Cheap, Small Portions

Buttermilk Truck. The name reminds me of the days when milkmen brought freshly bottled, wholesome milk to the front door twice a week. Reminds me of black and white television days, homemakers straining to prepare hearty, large dinners of pot roast and pot pies.

Buttermilk Truck provides a niche service in the burgeoning market of gourmet lunch trucks in our City of Angels. The truck's menu consists of breakfast goodies like buttermilk pancakes, cinnamon french toast sticks, rosemary hash brown patties, coffee, tea, bottled orange juice and such. They offer a Friday and Saturday night "late-nite" munchies menu similar to its day time menu. Look out for the LA soul food special item of waffles and chicken!

REVIEW:
I ordered my favorite college breakfast menu item: the breakfast sandwich. Buttermilk upped the ante with a lightly greasy, dense-yet-fluffy biscuit which housed a fried egg, yummy apple chicken sausage and cheddar. I added a rosemary-hash brown patty and the total food tab came to $3.50. Not bad. Really not bad.

So the price and the food is tasty; just beware that as possibly filling as protein + biscuit + cheese is, for some, it may not be enough, which is okay, seeing as how Buttermilk Truck also offers up additional pancakes, pastries and french toast sticks for good prices as well.

Just beware: sodas, juices and especially water bottles can be expensive at $1.50, whereas other trucks will sell these beverage items for $1 or $1.25.

BOTTOM LINE: Korean-Mexican food truck fatigued? Go enjoy Buttermilk Truck for good, cheap, breakfast food.