Results tagged "California"

Perhaps we’re taking the term a tad too literal.

BlogHer 2011 is in San Diego this August…

And I can feel it… the shaking heads of disapproval combined with the “What?” and the “Did she say?”… When really I’m just quoting The Legend of Ron Burgundy… “San Diego. Drink it in, it always goes down smooth.”… And no… despite what many of you may think… my fingers did not ignite into flames upon typing the word vagina… although I may have to overload my head with conditioner to relieve the rat’s nest that is slowly entwining on my head… you know, with the good conditioner. Because that’s all it takes for a movie line to be burned on my brain…. That and years of avoiding bad humor repetition. Some lines will just never go away…  “I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don’t know what it means. I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholars maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.”

I was a fool at the BlogHer 2010 conference…. I went, I curmudgeoned it’s existence while enjoying every minute of my friends — AND I should have stayed in the city — released my inner need to hang. But the call of the 2 year old was too much and I disappeared before dark.  Now look at me. (choking with cheshire cat laughter)  So… what’s to come of this year? More fun… and a smaller show, I suspect — NYC being the hub of ALL — despite August and all of its sweaty attractions… I have never been to San Diego — and I really want to go. Time will tell, at this point… in August — I will have a babe of 4 to 5 months hanging off of me like a Koala… As if my addiction to Will wasn’t enough this past year, how am I supposed to leave and fly ACROSS THE COUNTRY, without the newborn? And whatever… I don’t even want to go to the real conference — with fake vodka drinkers and potato heads — I just want to go play with my friends… IS THAT SO WRONG? And, while planning the trip now seems nearly impossible, am I as selfish as I think I am for already thinking about going?… “Last time I looked in the dictionary, my name’s Ron Burgundy. What’s your name?”

I suppose I could bring the babe… but as I think of that scenario, I remember seeing Moms with infants at last year’s show… chilled in the air conditioner with tired looks on their faces. What were they thinking? And you just know I’d end up being the Mom with the Baby — IN A BAR. I mean really. I have to stop thinking about it before my brain packs up and leaves for more preferential accommodations… in San Diego.

So while I’m sitting here… in 7 degree weather, waiting for all things inevitable while trying to think of my own creative one-liners… I can at least start to think about San Diego, right? Because you’re going  — and you are — and someone is sponsoring that other person to go… and no one will notice if I just show up and crash the party, right? Because I only had a little taste of last year’s event… “I don’t know how to put this, but I’m kind of a big deal.”

A year ago yesterday I wrote this post about not going… now all I want is to GO. You may as well plug your ears and start heading in the other direction, because I’m about to whine and stomp for the next 7-8 months… thinking of good alternatives like “BlogThis” or BlogMe”.. “JustGoBlogYourself”  — Labor Day, Southampton.. — Realists need not apply. “Go fuck yourself, San Diego.”

Can we talk about stuff? The kind of stuff that accumulates over time. The kind of stuff that you think you need or might need someday? The stuff that you think you’re being really really organized about and then you forget about it until you decide to tackle the situation and you can’t even remember why you kept the stuff to begin with? Like a pile of rolodex cards for the rolodex that you threw away with the invention of the computer. Or gobs and gobs of receipts–from 2002. Or how about art projects that you thought killed in college–now, not so much save for the hours of tedious yellow marker.

Because I’m still in the process of moving out of my space in Bridgehampton and back into my home office… which is requiring a massive reorganization before bringing more stuff in… which means that I have to go through it all to make sure that the colored pencils that are over a decade old are still worth a damn. Or the design trade publications from 1998 that I moved from one state and then another and yet another and still haven’t read. Do you think the theories will still apply? Ordinarily I would walk away from this situation in an attempt to avoid the hives that are slowly forming up my neck — but I don’t have any choice in the matter. I used to just tiptoe around the stuff… quietly, not wanting to disturb, occasionally opening the closets or drawers whispering.. hello in there – just let me sit at my computer… but now the other stuff is coming and therefore this stuff needs to go.

And it is with this task that I stand before you, OH DESK. Help me. Giant universe filled with lots of other stuff– as my pitch pierces my own ears… And, does anyone have a blindfold? Because I’m getting all teary-eyed having just found an awesome pen and I can’t watch. How do you throw it away? Do you want it? Maybe I’ll place an ad – “Stuff, in need of a good home. Will work with other stuff.” Or maybe I’ll just put it all back and pile more stuff on top… or maybe, just maybe…

In other news today… and before I drown myself in projects circa 1995, Aiming Low is repeating this post today. You can either read it here – or you can go there.. Heck, you can read it in both places if you’d like… because the season for repeats is looming upon and, although I have brown hair and she has the same glasses as me, I am not Tina Fey (shocker) and therefore don’t get paid residuals. Just put the hate down. 

Guest Bird #11 – Melissa

Melissa Siig is a freelance writer and mother of 2.5 kids living the dream in a small mountain town in California. She blogs about life’s crazy adventures at MountainMommaMusings.com.

It was the drink’s name that got us into trouble. “Dew Drop.” Vodka, splash of sparkling wine, fresh grape juice, and something called St. Germain. The latter ingredient was what really got our attention. What was it?  We were intrigued. While our table pondered the possibilities, the restaurant owner overheard us and came running over, very excited. He was dressed like a movie star, with a purple velvet sports jacket, a white shirt with not many buttons buttoned, and a few silver chains. I couldn’t place his accent – Australian, South African?

“St. Germain? You really must try it. Made from ElderFlower. It’s fabulous,” he said excitedly, adding that the drink was imported from France but created by an American right here in Colorado. All the bar shelves in Aspen restaurants were stocked with it. I guess it was the drink of the moment.

He offered us a taste. Of course, we couldn’t refuse anything free in this overly-priced town.

The bar manager brought over a small glass with a clear liquor in it. It smelled like spring-time, like apples and melon. Delicious. Yes, of course, we would have a round. Mine arrived in a martini glass, with two green grapes floating on the bottom where olives normally rest. But Siig’s was different. His came in a big tumbler and was more bubbly. Our new BFF Lauren the bar-manager came over and looked at the drinks, her pierced tongue clucking unapprovingly. Turns out none of them was actually the real Dew Drop. They were “alternatives.” Apparently, the bartender had already had one too many drinks of his own, even forgetting a key ingredient in my cousin’s mojito, which tasted like bland soda water mixed with mint.

But we were quite enjoying our “mistakes.” It had the desired effects. Soon, our table was rolling with laughter. I swear I saw a 70-year old proper woman at the table next to us sucking on the fingers of the man next to her; my cousin Jordan stole my mom’s cell phone and started texting her boyfriend. “What are you wearing?” he wrote covertly. The answer came back: “White shirt and jeans. What are you wearing?” When he responded: “leopard-print thong” the gig was up. I guess that particular item is not in my mom’s panties’ drawer.

Then we started doing the ChaCha. No, not the dance. It’s a number you text to find the answer to any question. We started writing: “Who is Melissa Siig?” Answer: “Sorry, no one of importance. We have no answer for you.”

Ouch. And here I thought I was a world famous blogger. Nothing like technology to put you in your place.

As we left the Wild Fig giggling, our heads swimming with the sweet scent of white grapes and ElderFlower, the acid jazz and electronic music of the French band St. Germain played above our heads on the loud speakers.  I guess we hadn’t so much gotten into trouble (unless you count my middle-of-the-night headache) as stumbled into synchronicity.

Guest Bird #7  – Sylvia

If you’re not familiar with Palm Springs weather, check out last month’s warm temperatures!
 
Water has always been an important theme in the Palm Springs area, for the beauty as well as the cooling effect.  At last count, there were said to be over 30,000 swimming pools in the Coachella Valley.  I have chosen the most interesting residential pools to share with you…

Bob Hope’s pool and 17,531 sq. ft. house!  (1)

Elrod House pool  (2)

When viewing the photos below, please hover your mouse over the word “Notes” on the lower right side, so that you’ll be able to see the descriptions!

(1)  1979 Bob Hope House (John Lautner) photograph by Julius Shulman & Jurgen Nogai, 2007
 
(2)  1968 Elrod House (John Lautner) photograph by Julius Shulman & Jurgen Nogai, 2007
 
(3)  Palm Springs Modern p. 40

Guest Bird #4  – Sylvia

Palm Springs is in the Coachella Valley (in the desert) about 100 miles east of Los Angeles.  It’s hot — it was in the 80′s or 90′s every day in October, and it rarely rains!  It does get up to 115 degrees in the summer, so most people do not live here year-round.
 
Palm Springs was sparsely populated until the arrival of air conditioning in the 1940′s!  Then it became a hotspot where Hollywood came to play.  The town really kicked into cocktail hour in the late 1940′s and 1950′s when Frank Sinatra, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby, Lucille Ball (our friend Susie owns Lucille Ball’s former home in Thunderbird Country Club), Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Jack Benny, the Gabor sisters, Red Skelton, Dinah Shore, Liberace, and Kirk Douglas moved in.  Some of these entertainers would “break in” their routines at clubs here, before headlining the showrooms of Las Vegas.  Palm Springs was the ideal escape — at the time it was a dusty 4-hour drive from Los Angeles and inaccessible enough that there were few paparazzi…  In the 1950′s golf took over, and many people lived inside “country clubs”, which turns out to be a great idea NOWADAYS (good security, private, quiet, safe, etc.)

Bob Hope’s house, see amazing aerial photo below

These affluent vacationers wanted their second homes to be beautiful and different.  Wood disintegrates in the desert, so the architects who came here started designing homes with glass, stone, steel, and concrete.  They wanted differing rooflines:  curvy, butterfly, zig-zag, pointy.  And, they wanted transparency between being “indoors” and “outdoors”, lots of skylights, and interior spaces more “open” and minimal.  Thus the architectural style known as “Palm Springs Modern” was born, also referred to as Mid-Century Modern.  Palm Springs Modernism reflects Hollywood, tourism, the desert, and wealth.  Similar forces existed in Los Angeles, but in Palm Springs they were concentrated in a small, isolated area.  The architects who subsequently became famous for this innovative, daring, unique style are:  Richard Neutra, A. Quincy Jones, Paul R. Williams, Albert Frey, E. Stewart Williams, William Cody, Donald Wexler, Palmer and Krisel, and John Lautner.
 
Palm Springs has recently developed a dedicated group of modern preservationists, as many of the mid-century homes were to be knocked down.  In 2002, the 1963 Maslon House at Tamarisk Country Club, one of only three homes in the area designed by Neutra, was demolished and this ignited American Modern preservation in Palm Springs.  My in-laws (members of Tamarisk Country Club) were very close friends of the Maslons, and spent a LOT of time at this house.  In 1960, Samuel and Luella Maslon started working very closely with Richard Neutra to design a house to hold their extensive contemporary art collection.  The property was two acres (the Maslon’s purchased THREE lots), it was on the fairway, and it had a very desirable mountain view.  After Sam and Luella died, their heirs put the house up for sale.  It was purchased in 2002 by Richard Rotenberg for $2.45 million.  About 30 days later, my mother-in-law was playing golf at Tamarisk.  When she got to the 12th hole, she saw to her complete horror — the Maslon house was being torn down.  She immediately stopped playing golf, ran home, and called the Maslon’s daughter (an attorney in Boston) to inform her of what she had just seen.  The daughter said, “The buyer PROMISED to keep the house intact.”  My mother-in-law said, “Did you get that in writing?”  The response was, “No, it was on a hand-shake.”  I can’t remember what my mother-in-law said next, but the Maslon’s daughter hasn’t spoken to her since!
 
For some fascinating reading about presidents and celebrities and their homes in Palm Springs, read excerpts here from:  Palm Springs Legends: Creation of a Desert Oasis (start with Chapter 29 and keep reading!)
 
When viewing the photos below, please hover your mouse over the word “Notes” on the lower right side, so that you’ll be able to see the descriptions!

Great books I recommend:

• Julius Shulman: Palm Springs
• Palm Springs Weekend: The Architecture and Design of a Midcentury Oasis
• Palm Springs Modern

 
Palm Springs Modern links:

• 2010 Palm Springs Modernism Week
• 2010 Palm Springs Modernism Show & Sale
• The Palm Springs Modern Committee
• Palm Springs Preservation Foundation
• Palm Springs Art Museum:  Architecture and Design Council

Sylvia grew up in central
California, spent 20+ years working in Manhattan, and is currently trying to sell her New York house–located in Hamptons. You can connect with Sylvia, a Diva at Networking, via http://twitter.com/SylviaEnder and http://www.linkedin.com/in/SylviaEnder.

This is Sylvia’s second For the Birds Landing. You can find her first post here.

Guest Bird #2 – Sylvia

Hi everyone — welcome to my very first guest-blog entry (thanks, Ryan!)  First, a little background info about me:  I grew up in central California, spent 20+ years working in Manhattan, and now my husband and I are sort of “bi-coastal” although not by choice.  We are desperately trying to sell our New York house.  For the moment, however, we are in the gorgeous Palm Springs, California area — which I will report on in-depth in a future blog entry!

Until next time – Sylvia 
http://twitter.com/SylviaEnder
http://www.linkedin.com/in/SylviaEnder (Please “connect” with me!)

Guest Bird #1 – Amanda

My name is Amanda. I live in San Francisco and write a blog called Brilliant Sulk. I don’t make a penny writing. I wish I did. So I’m forced to earn a living as a personal chef. In my spare time I like to eat cereal, take photographs and dream about moving to Paris. Someday I will.

So here I am. Writing a guest post on this marvelous blog. Why? Well, Ryan asked me because she was in a bit of a bind. Something about a monkey, a few dozen bagels and a cheap flight to Bangkok. I couldn’t quite understand her email. It was littered with exclamation points. !!!!!!! Plus she promised me a year’s subscription to the sauerkraut of the month club. How can a girl resist that?

I happily accepted. She said I could write about anything. Uh oh. She’s so screwed.

I started to think about it and realized I’d have to come up with an actual idea. Unlike my blog, where just about anything goes. This is someone else’s blog.

Should I write about San Francisco? Should I write about the time I hosted a Halloween party, drank five consecutive shots of Goldschlager and ended up on my bedroom floor naked, throwing up. All while I still had guests in the living room? Should I write about how most days I feel that I’m failing miserably as a parent? (Yes, even lunatics can have children) Or how about the fact that I HATE bra shopping and I’ve been wearing the same two bras for three years? Uh. No. Not quite good enough for this blog.

You see, I’m a bit of a procrastinator. A very busy procrastinator. I have two daughters so I’m usually making sure their bowls of water are filled to the brim and their favorite dinner (foie gras jellybean terrine) is on the table by six. But more importantly, I must make sure my husband’s “Ghost Hunters” t-shirts are ironed for the next day at the office.

So I thought it would be best to make a list of potential blog post ideas and narrow them down.

Topics I would not write about:

• The amount of wine I consume in a month’s time
• Math
• How after I gave birth to my first daughter I couldn’t walk for a month because I had so many stitches holding my vagina together
• The proper way to give a one eyed stranger a bubble bath

Topics that might appeal to Ryan’s readers:

• How to choose the right nudist colony for you and your family
• Why as an American I believe I should have the right to make a burrito, text, talk on the phone, color my hair and clean my gun while I drive my Hummer
• Why I allow my children to go out in public wearing their underwear as stylish headwear
• Uh oh. Time’s up? Crap. See? I can’t get anything done.

Oh boy Ryan, aren’t you glad you asked ME to guest post?