Road Rage
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I.
HATE.
DRIVING in LA.
Hate is not a word I use lightly. It's a very strong word. It's an ugly word. I don't like to be a person who hates. Ever. It's not healthy for a person to hate...it takes too much energy. And the truth is that I don't actually think I hate driving in LA as much as I hate DRIVERS in LA. But I DO hate drivers in LA.
Lately I've felt road rage at uncanny levels. It just happens. I'm driving along, minding my own business, listening to NPR when some total and complete ASS turns me into a hater. It's not even in my control. My blood pressure skyrockets, my face turns red, I feel my body getting hot and I want to SCREAAAAAAAAAAAM at the moron/jackass/idiot/stupidfreakingLOSER who must be so miserable in his or her life (and I don't mean to discriminate, but I've noticed that they are often of the male persuasion) that he doesn't have the wherewithal to let a person who has been clearly signaling into their lane. When traffic is barely moving. And there is a space. In fact, some of these imbeciles seem to speed up the second you start to pull into their lane and then lay on the horn as though you are endangering the lives of others and pulling into a lane where people are going 60 miles an hour when in fact they are going a whopping 10 miles an hour and can easily slow down to 7 or 8 when they see another car needs to make their way in. Why? Why would a person be such an ASS????? (and yes, I know I've already used that word on SEVERAL occasions but there's really no better description for this kind of human being.)
I can't possibly do justice to the scenarios I've encountered so I'm not going to try. But there have been far too many of them. I have found myself feeling road rage on a daily basis. Perhaps it's has to do with the fact that the TV season is up and running and I'm not just driving to work but also to breakfasts with agents and from studio to studio to visit sets. I'm in the car more. Which I suppose, gives me more opportunities to be around jerky drivers.
I miss the days of walking 10 blocks to a meeting. Even if it was 20 below and raining. I felt more secure that I wasn't going to be hit by some jerk as I weaved my way around the crazy cab drivers of NYC than I do on the roads of LA. And while I occasionally got annoyed with the tourist-y pedestrian traffic of Times Square, I'd take it over the losers on the 101 any day.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:53 PM 1 comments
Labels: driving, LA rant, laws of the road
We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Program...
Monday, August 25, 2008
There's more Burma Boy to come but I have something else to say which hasn't been a common occurence lately.
Just back from a weekend in Chicago to visit two of my good friends from college and meet their babies. It was way too short but great nonetheless as I held my own with the babies (not always the case which is why it heeds mentioning) and picked up with my friends as though we'd seen each other yesterday.
But what truly bears mentioning is this: I miss a city. Yes - I miss THE city. (And if you have to ask which city....ummm hi...check out the name of my blog). But just...in general...I miss a city. LA just doesn't pass for a city. It's one big sprawling suburb after another, interconnected by highways and long ass streets that span miles and miles and miles. You could fit all of Chicago and New York in the "city" of LA and I think you'd still have room for Boston. Something about a street that packs houses and townhouses and apartments and brownstones one on top of each other, almost like sardines, just feels right to me. Building up makes sense. I like being that close to my neighbors and knowing the owners of the restaurants in my neighborhood. A "neighborhood" in LA spans blocks and blocks and yards and houses with a shop or a restaurant thrown in for good measure except for on the major streets where you will constantly see cars circling to get a closer parking spot. And on more than one occasion, I've witnessed a drive from Fred Segal on Melrose and Crescent Heights down the DVF at Melrose and La Cienega...That means nothing to you? Take a look:
View Larger Map
See what I meeeeeean??
In NYC or Chicago, or even Boston, the fun is in the walking, the perusing, the people watching on the streets. The stores are more boutique-y and less trendy, the sidewalks more user friendly. We walked a block and a half to dinner at a fabulous Italian trattoria last night, en route passing no less than 10 other options for eating and drinking and had the stores been open, I would have stopped in every single one. When I walk up my street, I see houses.
This is why I get excited going to Montana Avenue in Santa Monica or Abbott Kinney in Venice, a little bit on Larchmont (at least as far as the stores go) or 3rd street. But I couldn't make a day out of any of those places - a few hours and a meal, tops. And they always have to be a destination. I think that's what I miss the most. I like the whimsy of NYC and Chicago and Barcelona and Florence. The ability to walk out your door, head down the street, and just see where the day takes you.
In LA, it simply takes you to your car.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:07 PM 1 comments
Labels: driving, LA rant, travels
Giving LA a bad name
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
I have dear friends in from NYC who happen to be staying in Brentwood. They have friends all over- Los Feliz, Hancock Park, Hollywood - but few of them live on the west side. So when trying to pick a place that's "convenient" (a word which doesn't really apply in Los Angeles unless you truly live in the same neighborhood) for all parties, we've run into a few issues. Issues which highlight in the brightest, most obnoxious fluorescent yellow the problems I have with this town.
We settled on Amarone Kitchen and Wine Bar for dinner - a little hole in the wall with about eleven tables conveniently located on Sunset right near San Vicente. Since they'd been in Los Feliz earlier and then the Sofitel for cocktails, this was a perfect location for them to shoot directly west on Sunset to arrive home later that evening. Amarone feels like a little slice of Italy with the chefs greeting you with an authentic "Buona Sera" as you pass by the kitchen. I was beyond thrilled to find that they had my beloved Falanghina on the wine list- a white wine from the Campania region of Italy that I drank endlessly on the island of Capri last June. And the extensive menu made decisions difficult. We settled on sharing (as I love to do most) and started with grilled calamari and burrata on a bed of arugala. The calamari was delicious - tender and seasoned to perfection. And the burrata was quite nice although the arugala could have used a little splash of lemon and olive oil from the kitchen. For dinner we had a filet stuffed with drunken goat cheese with a balsamic reduction and a squid ink linguine with fruits de mer in a light tomato sauce. The clearly homemade pasta was light and tangy and the steak was tender and full of flavor. I would go back to Amarone to sample more from their menu in a heartbeat.
Clearly, this was not the annoying part of our evening. After Amarone, we wanted to go someplace close by for a drink with some other friends traveling from Los Feliz. Given that we were on Sunset, I suggested Sky Bar at the Mondrian. Sure it's a scene and can be mildly annoying but the views are killer and it was a gorgeous uncharacteristically warm LA evening. It's generally not busy in the earlier half of the evening and I've lounged on on of the beds with friends on several enjoyable occasions. So we walk up to Sky bar and the place is empty. I mean EMPTY. Literally not a soul in sight save the "host" at the podium who quickly informs us that we're at the entrance for hotel guests. This is the same entrance through which I've entered Sky Bar on no fewer than five occasions.But he was relentless and sent us to the entrance on Sunset where we were told that without reservations, we can't come in. It's a Monday night. It's 10:15. We already know that there's NO ONE IN THE FUCKING BAR. Honestly? I'm too old for this crap. I just wanted to go to a nice hotel and have another glass of wine.
We cross the street to Katana - a sushi spot with an entire deck of outdoor seating. I've eaten at Katana about 15 times since I moved to LA. I've literally walked in and eaten at the bar on a few occasions. But all of a sudden, there's a RED VELVET ROPE OUTSIDE KATANA! People, this place is not new. It's been around for 4 years. And on top of that, this place is NOT FULL! It's EMPTY. But we are again greeted with "Sorry - reservations only."
There was an article in the LA Times a while back about how restaurants in Los Angeles were telling people they couldn't accommodate for certain reservation times. The writer of the article would then proceed to go to these places only to find out that there was not a single soul in the entire restaurant. Further, when the writer arrived at the restaurant at the reservation time she was given, she was often made to wait despite the fact that there was an almost empty dining room before her. These places were trying to give the illusion that they were difficult to get into (and I suppose it wasn't an illusion at all given that they were actually turning people down for reservations). Are Angelinos SO VAPID that they would rather appear cool than actually MAKE MONEY??? Seriously people. I am baffled. Ed. note: I tried to find the article to link to it but it appears it's been removed from the LA Times. The original article was entitled "Table at 7? LA begs to differ"
Granted I haven't gone out on Sunset in close to two years so perhaps in an effort to make everything old new again, these places are attempting to up the exclusivity factor. And next time I'll make less of an effort to find a place that's convenient and more of an effort to find a place that's actually cool.
We ended up deciding to grab a table at the very chi-chi Saddle Ranch which was possibly the funniest experience I've had in a long time. We thought about riding the bull but decided that we'd rather not spend the remainder of the evening in the emergency room which is inevitably where I would have landed. Our favorite part of the experience was the smoldering and steaming carafe that was brought out posing as the premium margarita that my friend ordered. Literally smoking. 
At least we're in good company -- Carrie, Samantha, and Miranda ended up at the Saddle Ranch in one of the LA episodes:
Samantha: All the fabulous places in LA and we're at the saddle ranch chophouse?
Carrie: Hey - don't complain. It's the closest bar without a hill involved.
That pretty much sums it up.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:09 PM 0 comments
Labels: driving, food and drink, LA rant
The things you miss
Sunday, January 27, 2008
I'll tell you what I miss. I miss the energy you get from being on the street. I miss the pulse that drives my body to go, go, go. I miss the stimulation. I miss the buzz I get from the way the air hits my face when I step outside and whips against my cheeks as I pass through the streets, by the buildings. I miss the spontaneity of wherever my feet may take me in that moment, the ease of changing course. I miss the people I may run into that I already know and those I've yet to meet but might - today or tomorrow or possibly next year. I miss that feeling of being wildly aware. I miss the things I don't see more than the things I do. But then I guess that's sort of obvious. If I'm not seeing them...then I'm missing them.
Today I walked a few blocks. Blocks that I've driven at least 365 times - possibly, no most probably, more. I've driven these blocks time and again but today might have been the first time I walked them. And I found new things. I found an amazing gardening store. It's been there the whole time - I just didn't see it. I couldn't see it because I had to keep my eyes on the road in order to make sure that I didn't bump the car in front of me or run a red light or God forbid, hit a pedestrian. So while I keep my eyes on the road, they aren't allowed to explore and experience all the nuanced changes that happen - or even to find things that are old to others but new to me.
In New York, I was forgiven for the times I was so preoccupied by the new windows going up or the calls of "coming soon" that I mistakenly walked directly into another pedestrian. Often, they were just as enthralled as I was...neither of us were paying attention to the "road". When you walk the same streets every day and every night, weaving your way in and out, up and down, for coffee and dinner and drink dates and commutes to work, you notice the newest billboard, the building going up or coming down, the newest crack in the sidewalk. You notice everything. You are wildly aware because you don't have a choice not to be.
I suppose I'm aware in a different sort of way here. I have to keep my eye on the car in front of me, lest I mistakenly bump someone when I'm going 5 mph and have them sue me for $30,000. But that's another story for another time. I have to keep my eyes on the road. And trust me - it's not easy. Do you know they have electronic billboards that change about 5 times in 30 seconds? How are you supposed to keep your eyes on the road when the signs in front of you are begging you not to miss the next ad...wait! oh! It's changing just as you start to pass so don't slow down, just look behind you for another minute because you absolutely positively CAN NOT MISS THIS AD!!! Seriously? This is safe?
But the truth is, I crane my neck anytime I notice something new - a new facade, a new awning, some new construction. I crane my neck for the opportunity to be in the know, to be wildly aware. But then, the road beckons...safety calls my name. Because if I bump into the other person...it ain't gonna be a pedestrian that was looking, too.
So today, I walked. (Of course, I was with 2 of my favorite New Yorkers while I did so.) And I found the most amazing gardening and home goods store. It's about a block and a half from my house. Can you imagine? A block and a half and I didn't even know it was there. And it's not new. It's been there the whole time. All 365 times plus that I drove that street.
I could still tell you most everything within a 10 block radius of my Perry Street apartment and my 45th Street office. I miss being wildly aware.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 11:30 PM 0 comments
Things I fear While Driving
Thursday, January 10, 2008
I don't know if I was this way before I lived in New York. I can't remember what it was like to drive when I was younger. I mean, I remember backing into a tree in a parking lot while I was practicing for my driver's license with my dad. I remember driving into the garage door in high school and as if I weren't already in enough trouble, hearing my sister say in her highest pitched voice possible, "I can't sleep in my room tonight!!!! I mean, it's over the garage!! WHAT IF THE HOUSE CAVES IN???" I remember getting my license and getting my first car and driving from Chicago to New York City. I remember getting a flat tire on 128 on my way to a voice lesson and feebly attempting to change it myself in my tight jeans and red leather jacket and ankle boots (ohhhhhh the wonderful memories of high school fashion) until the cops came and changed it for me (but only after yelling at me for being so stupid as to try to change a tire on the side of the busiest freeway in Massachusetts.) But I don't remember if I was a good driver or a nervous driver or an apathetic driver or a defensive driver or a risky driver. I can't remember if I actually liked driving (save the time when I was in high school and it spelled freedom).
But I'll tell you this - I do not like it now. There are many many reasons that I don't like driving, not the least of which is the other maniacs that seem to be on the road in Los Angeles. But mostly, what I don't like is that I actually feel paranoid when I drive. I can walk with reckless abandon, confident that I will not fall, I will not get hit, I will be fine. And the truth is, it's sort of ridiculous that I am soooo confident in my walking abilities given that I am one of the bigger klutzes on the face of the universe. But walking gives me no pause. Driving, on the other hand, seems to have me all up in arms.
I am constantly paranoid when I drive in LA. And in general, the things that I'm nervous about are RIDICULOUS.
When I am stopped and there is a pedestrian crossing - be it at a red light or a crosswalk - I am scared that my foot is going to slip off the brake and I'm going to hit them. This is not normal.
When I am taking a left hand turn and there's not a light, I am scared that I am going to miss that person coming from the left. In driving school they taught us to look left, then right, then left again. I do that...about 75 times. "Left, right, left, left, right, left, left, left...ok...I can turn now...wait left! OK!" This is not normal.
I am nervous that somehow, my car has put up some sort of invisible barrier and other cars can't see me and will back into, drive into, sideswipe, etc. my car because they don't see me. This fear is mildly more rational in that drivers in Los Angeles seem to be completely narcissistic people who only seem to be aware of themselves in their own cars. This is insane, impossible, and also...not normal.
I am paranoid that, while driving on the highway, I am going to be too close to the side barrier and scrape the entire side of my car. Not normal.
I also get scared that trucks will have no idea I am there, change lanes unknowingly and squash my car completely. I suppose this fits in with the belief that my car somehow turns invisible.
Every so often (this one is rare), when it's dark out and I'm stopped at a light, I have a fleeting fear that I'm going to get carjacked. (I know - that's so 90's.)
I get nervous that, because I have ZERO sense of spatial relations, I am going to make a turn and think that I'm turning wide enough but not and hit something. (This has actually occurred before so this fear is not entirely unfounded.)
I am nervous that I am going to physically hurt someone one day - not because I drive into them but because I actually get OUT of my car and physically harm them due to the fact that they are complete and total morons on the road. Example: Last night I was driving down an alley to get to a main street after stopping at a gas station. I turned left into the alley after looking left and right several times (but fewer than normal because it was an alley with almost zero traffic). When I pulled into the alley, there was a car stopped about 200 feet in front of me, but there was also a car coming toward me in the opposite direction. So I pulled behind the first stopped car and politely waited for the car to pass so that I could be on my merry way. However, for some UNKNOWN reason, the car coming in the opposite direction ALSO stopped and sat there...staring at me. I have no explanation for this and I have no where to go because I'm behind one car and the other car is in front of and to the side of me. And they just stare at me. I stare back for a moment and finally throw up my hands and give them this wide eyed annoyed look that clearly says, "Uuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmm where should I go moron? I was being polite and letting you go and now you've boxed me in and seem to be having some sort of Mexican standoff and I'm going to win simply based on the fact that I have nowhere to go except for backwards and I am NOT backing up to give in to your RUDE ASS!" Apparently having read my mind (or just my pissed off expression) the driver moved. However, had he not, I can not be held responsible for my actions of road rage. Driving makes me an angry person. Which in general, I am not. I actually think that this is fairly normal.
I am nervous about parking lots. People in this town are maniacs about parking spaces and seem to do all sorts of illegal maneuvers just to get to a spot. I have total anxiety while driving in parking lots. Especially when I come into contact with the crazies who wave you to go and then, if you don't step on the gas in a matter of miliseconds going from 0 to out of their way, they get annoyed, change their minds, and decide they are no longer going to let you go...and this happens just as your car has finally started to move forward, causing you to slam on the breaks and let the indian-giver go ahead of you.
I feel concerned that the man in the car next to me, ogling at the half-dressed girls walking down Robertson is going to drown in his own drool and side swipe me. Or that the agent that is on her bluetooth yelling at her assistant while checking her blackberry and reading her client's most recent script is going to slam his foot down in anger, forgetting that she's in his car and ram into me.
As you see, I am not at home in the driver's seat. I sort of view a car like a dangerous weapon that's in the hands of the wrong people. A LOT of wrong people. Perhaps including me.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:55 AM 0 comments
It's the most wonderful time of the year
Thursday, December 20, 2007
But the traffic sucks. And people driving aren't very much in any sort of holiday spirit. In fact, I would venture to say that the drivers in this town are the antithesis of the holiday spirit. I just witnessed all sorts of yelling and screaming and swearing (I tried to block my virgin ears...) Is it really that bad?
I've said it once, I'll say it again. I am not a fan of the city where one needs to own a car. Cars and driving cause all sorts of negative things, not the least of which are road rage, ill will toward others and long waits to get places.
I'm just sayin'.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 2:30 PM 0 comments
Labels: driving
Hallo-whine
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Halloween in LA has officially turned me into a Grinch. I should begin by explaining that I am not a fan of the adult celebration of Halloween. I can't wait to get my kids dressed up one day and take them trick or treating...but as an adult, I'm completely averse to the requirement of dressing up. So NY or LA, I've never been a huge fan of the Halloween party. I know, I know. People love dressing up and being someone else for a night - they can be a superhero or a slut or a pretty, pretty princess for a night. But it's just not for me.
Last night, I reluctantly went to a Halloween party because a good friend had planned it (and she planned fabulously, I might add...). Her fabulous party did not change my feeling. But we had a perfectly lovely time for the hour or so that we were there - just enough time to look around, see some great costumes, get a hot dog on a stick, see a few friends and be in bed early enough on a school night.
I left around 11 and expected to be in my bed about 20 minutes later. My dreams of sugarplum fairies were dashed when, about 10 minutes into my trip home, I hit traffic at every turn I took. The Halloween parade on Santa Monica Blvd. had ended and there were people flooding to their cars in a mass exodus. I sat in my car and cursed - cursed driving, cursed LA, cursed the Merry Hallo-weiners. In NYC, while the streets are flooded with people after the West Village parade, you can cut down any number of side streets at any point in time to avoid the masses and get to your destination. Not so here. I sat through traffic light change after traffic light change and slowly went insane as I prayed to the gods to puh-leeeeeeeeeeeease allow me to just cross La Cienega Avenue. After 20 minutes at a virtual stand-still, I crossed to the other side - the land of Moses - and drove home mostly uninterrupted. I crawled into bed and declared that I wish that I could end adult Halloween. "I could be the Grinch who stole Halloween!" I declared giddily! (But lest you think I'm some absolutely horribly person - know that I am referring to adults only here. I would never, EVER think about removing the joy of dressing up and trick or treating from children. I'm just making sure we're all clear here...) After I reveled in my thought for a brief moment, I came back to earth and realized, as the Grinch did, that there's no need for me to force my feelings upon the entire universe. But I can safely say that Halloween in LA has effectively ruined any minuscule desire that I ever had to participate in Halloween on Halloween in this city again.
Boo Humbug.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 12:28 PM 0 comments
A tale of a Britney hit and run
Thursday, September 27, 2007
I didn't intend to make the end of this week about driving, but after my evening last night, I feel obligated to discuss the insanity of the people in this town. Now, I am not claiming that there are not insane people in other towns. In fact, I'm sure there are people who would classify yours truly as "one of those insane New Yorkers." But we are talking a whole new level here...
Beware of accidents in this town, people. Know your rights, know what to do when you're in an accident, and don't lose the ability to think on your feet. "What is wrong with this girl?" you are asking yourself. "We know what to do when we get into accidents."
Yes. But do you know what to do when you get into accidents with CRRRRRRAAAAAAAZZZZY people???? You might think you do. But trust me, you don't.
Last night, I left my office at approximately 6:15. My friend, Nancy Cho* (*all names have been changed to protect the innocent) was following me home. She had to pick up her puppy, Toast*, who was playing with our puppy, Tuesday*. I got into my car which was conveniently parked in the guest parking section of the insert studio name here parking lot (parking at studios and networks is a whole other topic to be discussed at a much later date...or perhaps, never.) Anyhow, there was crazy traffic in the parking lot because Dancing with the Stars had just finished taping their results show (sorry Josie Maran. You should have taken some advance lessons, lady). Nancy and I opted to leave a different way so we could avoid the traffic. I looked behind me and the coast was clear, so I put the car in reverse. Like most good drivers (which I don't exactly claim to be...but I at least drive by the rules) I looked behind me as I was backing up. I've barely backed up a foot when I see a silver car barreling through the parking lot toward me. Did I mention that we're in a parking lot? And this person is EAAAAASILY driving 35 mph. I quickly step on the brake and lay on the horn at the same time. There's definitely not time for me to put the car in drive and move forward but I'm thinking that the fact that I'm laying on the horn and that this person is still a swervable distance away will keep me safe. As I'm looking at this car FLYING toward me, I realize that I recognize the driver!!! It's Leaf*, the sort of crazy but also sweet, mildly Britney Spears-like assistant from down the hall at work. I smile. I like Leaf. And surely Leaf will see me or hear me and stop...
BAM.
Um. Apparently not. I sit there in shock for a moment. "She just freaking hit my car. Holy Shit." I see the silver Honda Accord stopped a little past where I am parked. The brake lights are on and there is no one getting out of the car. But the car is stopped. I get out of my car and walk over to see what happened. I look at the rear of my car, and thankfully, there is a mild scrape on my bumper. Nothing terrible. OK, this is fine. This is good. ESPECIALLY GOOD BECAUSE AS I LOOK UP FROM MY CAR TO THE PLACE WHERE THE SILVER HONDA ACCORD WAS STOPPED, I SEE IT PULLING AWAY.
"HEY!" I scream. "HEEEEEEEY!"
At this moment I see that I am currently standing in front of Nancy Cho's car. I see this because she is honking at me and motioning for me to move toward her. I think that she wants me to come over to her window to tell her what happened, so this is what I do.
"Did you see that?" I scream. "DID YOU SEE HER???"
"MOVE!" Nancy said. "I'm going after that person!!! They just hit and run you!!!!"
Nancy, it turns out, had seen the entire thing.
"NO!" I said in complete and utter disbelief. "You don't have to go after them. I know who it was. It was Leaf!"
"What?"
"IT WAS LEAF. LEAF JUST HIT ME AND RAN!! WHAT THE HELL!"
Nancy and I sit and stare for a moment.
"Are you ok? Are you hurt? She totally hit your car! She just drove right into it."
In that moment, I was extremely grateful that someone else had seen what had happened to me. Because I've gotta be honest with you, the whole thing was so ridiculously insane, that it seemed possible that I hadn't processed what had happened properly. I mean, how is it possible that:
1. A person drives through a very full parking lot where there are constantly pedestrians at 35 miles per hour.
2. This person is so clearly not looking in front of them that they don't see STOPPED CAR LOUDLY HONKING FOR AT LEAST 10 seconds.
3. SAID PERSON HITS CAR AND PLUM DRIVES AWAY!!!!
I'll tell you how this happens. It happens in LA, where people actually think that "Hey, Britney did it...so can I!"
Back on track. My car is barely damaged. Our dogs are at the house waiting. And I'm not going to press charges. I mean, I know this girl. I even like this girl. And it has seemed to me on more than one occasion that perhaps she doesn't have the best judgment (you think Michelle?) so tomorrow morning I will go into the office and kindly tell her that 1. you have to drive more slowly in the parking lot and 2. you can't hit and run because if I hadn't realized it was you, I would have called the cops.
But before I decide that I'm going to be calm and lovely toward this person, I call my friend Roxanne*, who is still in the office and tell her what happened. Roxanne is up in arms for me (and rightfully so, I might add.) She tells one other person because she is in such utter disbelief and before you know it, the whole hall knows that I have just been the victim of a Britney hit and run.
Cut to this morning. Upon my arrival in the office, I learn that there has already been some issues regarding my aforementioned hit and run. "How?" you might ask. "You haven't even gotten to the office yet." Wait. Ooooooooooooooooooh wait.
Apparently, Leaf was late arriving at her desk that morning. And her colleague was annoyed because she didn't know where she was. When she finally found out, she announced out loud, "Leaf was down at security reporting that someone hit her last night." Roxanne hears this and jumps up. "Hit her? Someone HIT HER??? Uh uh. No. NO WAY. That is NOT what happened. Bitch hit and ran Michelle!!!" (ok - that's not what she said. But isn't that more colorful than "No she didn't. She hit Michelle.)
So now, not only is everyone talking about how Leaf hit me and ran, but that she then LIED to security about it as well. Keep in mind that at this point, Leaf has no idea that the person that she hit is ME.
I wasn't here. I don't know what happened, but apparently, some shit went down regarding my car accident. So when I got into the office I had the following email from Leaf (please note that the italics are my comments in my head upon reading the email):
So, I guess we collided yesterday. I didn’t know that we hit until I got home. (WHAT??) I didn’t hear or feel anything. (UMM HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE) Anyway, I came in right away this morning and reported it to security and they have all my info and insurance and are looking it up on the cameras. If you want to trade info that’s perfectly okay with me. I’m sure we can work this out just fine.
I sigh deeply and then I venture toward Leaf's desk. I am telling myself to stay calm. Despite the fact that this girl is a hit and runner. Despite the fact that she lies. Despite the fact that she is clearly a LUNATIC...I want to remain calm.
"Hi. Let's talk"
"OK. But can we please go somewhere because there has already been all sorts of drama about this this mornin' and Ah don't want everyone all up in our business. We can go in that office right there. It's empty."
(Little did I know that the office that she took me into is the temporary office of our head of Interactive for when he's here from NY...like, a BIG head honcho. And HE'S CURRENTLY HERE. In LA. So everyone is standing outside going "what is she doing?" Thankfully, he was in a meeting...)
Anyhow...I was lovely and sweet. Even as this crazy little girl sat and lied to my face. She started out by saying that she asked security for video tapes so they could see a license plate and who was at fault.
I said, "Leaf, there's no question. You were at fault. I wasn't moving." I said it very sweetly and I cushioned it with the fact that there was very little damage to my bumper- just a couple of scrapes that I didn't need fixed. (I'm thinking that she sort of side swiped me and has a nice big scrape on the front of her car...but I made out OK.)
When I said this to her, she did not protest. Not a peep. "And you were going REALLY fast in the parking lot."I said.
"Ahhhh was?" (She's southern)
"You were. And you're really lucky it was me you hit. Because hit and run is a felony. Anyone else would have called the cops and you would have been in a lot of trouble."
"But ah didn't even know that ah hit you! Ah sweeeeeeear. Ah didn't feel a thang!"
"Really?" I said. "Cuz I felt a lot of things." (one of which was that I wanted to tear you a new asshole this morning...)
"Reeeeally. Ah can't believe it. Ah didn't even know we hit until ah got home last night. Ah came in early this morning to talk to security. Ah swear."
I looked at this girl and realized that I was going to get nowhere with her...and what was the point? She wasn't trying to claim that I hit her...in fact, her story changed during the course of the conversation from reporting to security that she'd been hit to then saying we collided to total submission when I told her that, hands down no question, she hit me. I said my piece. I was done.
No one at work can believe I was so nice. Roxanne and Nancy Cho couldn't believe that I let her off so easy.
But she didn't try and argue with me once I told her that she hit me. If she had, I'd have gone ghetto on her ass.
I have another accident story that I was going to talk about tonight as well...another craaaaaaazy lady who tried to take me for all I'm worth (which at the time, was not very much). But I'm exhausted from telling you this one. So the crazy Asian lady will have to wait for another day.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:43 PM 4 comments
Labels: driving
Los Angeles Lessons
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
When I first moved to
LA has very different laws regarding pedestrians.
So the lesson of the day is this: it doesn't make sense, but many things about this city never will. Yield to the pedestrians.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:57 PM 2 comments
Labels: driving, laws of the road
13.3 miles
Monday, September 10, 2007
This past weekend our friend Stephanie suggested that we head to
View Larger Map
As you can see, it’s a whopping 13.3 miles. That’s only 1/10th of a mile shorter than the entire length of the
You would think, from my reaction, that
My parents live 45 minutes outside of
Meanwhile, my husband, who, like me, generally has a similar distaste for driving, said to me, “Let’s go! Fun to do something different.” And suddenly, with my excuse un-excused, I was unenthusiastically looking at an evening in
My stint in
So while I can't say that I see myself making this trek all that often, I might not be so quick to turn up my nose the next time someone suggests Venice or Santa Monica. Because as I knew during my early days in NYC, sometimes you travel for a good thing.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 5:01 PM 1 comments
Labels: driving, neighborhoods
