Okay, I'm going to really state the obvious here. The weather. What can I say? It's gorgeous 95% of the year. We do have our catastrophies, though, so don't go thinking we're living on easy street in sunny Los Angeles. We have fires. Lots of them. Then, after the fires come the rains, which lead to floods, mud slides and million dollar mansions careening into the canyons. I guess that's the price you pay for 355 days of sunshine.
We also have this little problem of it being terribly dry here. Ladies, combine this with the constant onslaught of sunbeams, and you're looking at a fast-approaching leather-face. No, I'm not talking Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I'm talking wrinkles! The key to avoiding this disaster is to moisturize, moisturize, moisturize. And find yourself a good aesthetician. You might discover you're shelling out $200 a month on your face, but isn't it worth it in the end? Do you really want to end up looking like your great grandma's leather handbag from 1923? I think not! So, slather it on before stepping one foot out into that unforgiving California sun, and you should make it to a ripe old age without resembling Will Rogers favorite saddle. Oh, and don't forget your hands. You don't want the face of a 30 year old and the hands of an 80 year old, do you?
So, I guess I don't need to tell you why I love the weather in L.A., but here are just a few things you can do in our sunny city in, say, the middle of January.
1. Bike at the beach
2. Hike in the Angeles forest
3. Sip iced lattes on the patio
4. Sail
5. Surf
6. Watch cute guys surf
7. Wear strappy sandals
8. Eat ice cream
9. Play tennis
10. Show some leg!
Friday, May 25, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The Thinking Woman's Blog
Wow! I gotta say I am honored that Kate Willoughby listed my humble little blog as one of her faves. And since I have been tagged, I've been assigned the duty of listing my favorite "blogs that make me think." Here goes...
1. Of course, I have to list Kate Willoughby. Her blog is always entertaining and she blogs on many subjects, so I actually learn rather a lot from her!
2. Trashionista is a blog by UK lovers of chick lit. I visit this blog almost daily to catch up on the haps in merry old England (birthplace of chick lit) and the chick lit book world. They were also kind enough to review A Taste of Italy for me, so they have a special place in my heart.
3. Eden Bradley is a fellow author who specializes in fetish erotica. Though her work is hot and steamy, she herself is as sweet as a piece of Dutch Apple Pie.
4. TV Squad is also a blog I frequent sometimes. Not only is one of its contributors a friend of mine, but I have a Master of Fine Arts in TV Production, so I like to see what these guys think of the stuff currently clogging up our cable boxes.
5. This Fish Needs A Bicycle is a hilarious blog by a single young woman who just moved to Dallas after having a go at Manhattan for a while. She updates frequently, and I guarantee you'll laugh every time you stop by to see what she's up to.
Those are my five faves. What are yours?
Ciao,
Lucie
1. Of course, I have to list Kate Willoughby. Her blog is always entertaining and she blogs on many subjects, so I actually learn rather a lot from her!
2. Trashionista is a blog by UK lovers of chick lit. I visit this blog almost daily to catch up on the haps in merry old England (birthplace of chick lit) and the chick lit book world. They were also kind enough to review A Taste of Italy for me, so they have a special place in my heart.
3. Eden Bradley is a fellow author who specializes in fetish erotica. Though her work is hot and steamy, she herself is as sweet as a piece of Dutch Apple Pie.
4. TV Squad is also a blog I frequent sometimes. Not only is one of its contributors a friend of mine, but I have a Master of Fine Arts in TV Production, so I like to see what these guys think of the stuff currently clogging up our cable boxes.
5. This Fish Needs A Bicycle is a hilarious blog by a single young woman who just moved to Dallas after having a go at Manhattan for a while. She updates frequently, and I guarantee you'll laugh every time you stop by to see what she's up to.
Those are my five faves. What are yours?
Ciao,
Lucie
Sunday, May 20, 2007
The Little Things
So, I've kind of been PMSing for the past couple of days. You know the symptoms: chocolate cravings, crying jags, chocolate cravings. Friday was my day off from work, and the only thing I had on my to-do list was to get a facial at my favorite spa. I lay in bed until 7:00am, a full hour and a half later than on work days, and then shuffled into the living room for a good, long dose of morning television. Oh, what bliss it was! I snuggled up on the sofa with both of my cats on either side of me and listened intently as Matt Lauer discussed men's fashions, Ann Curry investigated "the glass ceiling" and Al Roker initiated his book club for kids. What joy! How luxurious to do nothing but watch TV for a full four hours (Martha Stewart came on right after the Today Show, so you know I had to watch that, too)!
Then it was off to the spa for more pampering, which sometimes comes with a little side order of pain also known as "extractions." The fine art of pimple popping. And then there are the concoctions designed to burn off layers of skin, also known as anti-aging treatments. But, luckily when it was all over, my skin was glowing, and I looked a good ten years younger. No one said beauty came easy.
Then it was back home for some delicious afternoon TV with Oprah and Tyra. Oprah had on my favorite heroine, Sarah Jessica Parker, who was promoting her line of fashion called Bitten. The designs were yummy and Sarah Jessica was simply divine. How I miss Sex and the City! Dear SJ (as close friends are known to call her) was so excited about her new business venture, and I was moved to tears by her enthusiasm. Did I mention how much I miss Sex and the City? Then Tyra doled out a heaping helping of fashion wisdom as she performed four make-overs on some very deserving women. Watching these women transform from caterpillars into stunning butterflies, I once again found myself foolishly blubbering. But what fabulous tears these were. Tears of joy. Tears of inspiration. Tears, tears, tears!
Saturday saw no tears, though I was really hoping for some. I even watched what I'd heard was a very sad movie. Babel. Eh. I loved the director's other films (and cried like a baby during each), Amores Perros and 21 Grams, but felt nothing for his latest work. What gives? The film certainly seemed designed to elicit tears, but none came. Was I "cried out?"
Not in the least. I borrowed Under the Tuscan Sun from a neighbor and within minutes, those wonderful little tears were pricking at my lashes. And that's when I realized that it isn't necessarily the big tragic stories that wrench my heart. It's the little things like friendship, like taking a leap of faith, like discovering your true self that really touch me. Thank God for the little things.
Ciao,
Lucie
Then it was off to the spa for more pampering, which sometimes comes with a little side order of pain also known as "extractions." The fine art of pimple popping. And then there are the concoctions designed to burn off layers of skin, also known as anti-aging treatments. But, luckily when it was all over, my skin was glowing, and I looked a good ten years younger. No one said beauty came easy.
Then it was back home for some delicious afternoon TV with Oprah and Tyra. Oprah had on my favorite heroine, Sarah Jessica Parker, who was promoting her line of fashion called Bitten. The designs were yummy and Sarah Jessica was simply divine. How I miss Sex and the City! Dear SJ (as close friends are known to call her) was so excited about her new business venture, and I was moved to tears by her enthusiasm. Did I mention how much I miss Sex and the City? Then Tyra doled out a heaping helping of fashion wisdom as she performed four make-overs on some very deserving women. Watching these women transform from caterpillars into stunning butterflies, I once again found myself foolishly blubbering. But what fabulous tears these were. Tears of joy. Tears of inspiration. Tears, tears, tears!
Saturday saw no tears, though I was really hoping for some. I even watched what I'd heard was a very sad movie. Babel. Eh. I loved the director's other films (and cried like a baby during each), Amores Perros and 21 Grams, but felt nothing for his latest work. What gives? The film certainly seemed designed to elicit tears, but none came. Was I "cried out?"
Not in the least. I borrowed Under the Tuscan Sun from a neighbor and within minutes, those wonderful little tears were pricking at my lashes. And that's when I realized that it isn't necessarily the big tragic stories that wrench my heart. It's the little things like friendship, like taking a leap of faith, like discovering your true self that really touch me. Thank God for the little things.
Ciao,
Lucie
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Make Me Laugh, Make Me Cry
I haven't yet come across a movie to knock Marie Antionette off the top of my favorite flick list, but Music and Lyrics certainly is a contender when it comes to the sheer pleasure of simply watching a film. The opening video sequence was spot on with those fabulous 80s bands we all loved back in high school, and Hugh Grant is adorable as the heartthrob turned aging has-been. And who doesn't love Drew Barrymore? But I gotta tell you, what got me was the grand gesture in the end. I love a grand gesture - in movies and in life. If you can coax a tear out of me, you've got my everlasting love. Well, at least until the credits roll. Ah, if only life could be as sweet as a pop song.
Ciao,
Lucie
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Sick of the Sycophants
Ok. Another personal gripe today. This one is about the suck ups, brown-nosers and ass-kissers populating my office. It just might surprise a few of you to learn that Ms. Lucie has a rather high-level management position in her stodgy day job. I know. It surprises me, too! I never considered myself to be "management material." It just sort of happened. I'm kind of lucky in that I don't actually have to manage any people. I'm left alone in my office to manage budgets, projects, and lots of other dreadfully boring things. And I rather enjoy having my own private little office. It allows me lots of opportunities to shirk my work in favor of browsing the internet in search of my next foreign adventure. I've chosen Costa Rica, just in case you were wondering.
So, I have a special sort of relationship with my job. I show up, do some work and my employers give me a paycheck. I think this is a fabulous set up. For a while, I was getting some flack about needing to network with the higher-ups in the organization, but I quickly quashed their efforts to get me to mingle when I made it clear that I wanted no more responsibility than what I've already got. I mean, I've got a fledgling writing career I'm trying to launch. I don't have time to be sucking up to a bunch of stick-in-the-mud republicans.
Anyway, back to today's complaint. Because I'm in this management position, even though I don't supervise people, all the employees in the lower ranks in my office feel the need to constantly jabber away at me about their personal lives, as if they're making some sort of connection with me. Oh, and I should mention that 90% of these people are women at least 20 years older than me. They ramble on about their teenagers, their grandchildren, their RVs, their gastro-intestinal disorders. As a young (okay, young-ish), hip, single woman living in Hollywood, I really can't relate in the least to the lives of these older, suburban women.
I am somewhat self-absorbed. I know this about myself. When I'm with my friends, I'm 100% interested in them and their lives, but when it comes to regular people on the street or co-workers I have nothing in common with, I could not care less about whatever hum-drum happenings fill their days. So, I'm often seen as kind of a bitch. And I've been trying to work on my bitchy behavior. I'll remind myself to ask someone, "How are you?" after they've asked the same of me. Or, I tell myself to smile at the clerk when I reach the grocery store check-out. But let me tell you, it is an effort!
Perhaps my snobby attitude comes from too many years of living in Hollywood where the inhabitants have developed this unique form of prejudice where we easily find fault with just about everyone on the planet from actors to politicians and all the many unique individuals in between. It's a shame being this jaded with life. But still, despite all my efforts to reform, the constant onslaught of mundane chit-chat and small-talk makes me nuts. What's a girl to do?
Well, this girl found solace in the world of chick lit. A couple of years ago, I read this wonderful book by Marian Keyes called Sushi for Beginners. In it, there is a character who suffers from my very same affliction, and I found her inner thoughts, her devious mind to be absolutely hilarious. I loved her. I adored her. I was her! I'd finally found a woman I could understand! At least I knew I was not alone! We bitchy girls have our faults, but sometimes the world needs people like us. If nothing else, we make everyone less bitchy than us look like angels.
And you thought Lucie was nice!
Ciao!
So, I have a special sort of relationship with my job. I show up, do some work and my employers give me a paycheck. I think this is a fabulous set up. For a while, I was getting some flack about needing to network with the higher-ups in the organization, but I quickly quashed their efforts to get me to mingle when I made it clear that I wanted no more responsibility than what I've already got. I mean, I've got a fledgling writing career I'm trying to launch. I don't have time to be sucking up to a bunch of stick-in-the-mud republicans.
Anyway, back to today's complaint. Because I'm in this management position, even though I don't supervise people, all the employees in the lower ranks in my office feel the need to constantly jabber away at me about their personal lives, as if they're making some sort of connection with me. Oh, and I should mention that 90% of these people are women at least 20 years older than me. They ramble on about their teenagers, their grandchildren, their RVs, their gastro-intestinal disorders. As a young (okay, young-ish), hip, single woman living in Hollywood, I really can't relate in the least to the lives of these older, suburban women.
I am somewhat self-absorbed. I know this about myself. When I'm with my friends, I'm 100% interested in them and their lives, but when it comes to regular people on the street or co-workers I have nothing in common with, I could not care less about whatever hum-drum happenings fill their days. So, I'm often seen as kind of a bitch. And I've been trying to work on my bitchy behavior. I'll remind myself to ask someone, "How are you?" after they've asked the same of me. Or, I tell myself to smile at the clerk when I reach the grocery store check-out. But let me tell you, it is an effort!
Perhaps my snobby attitude comes from too many years of living in Hollywood where the inhabitants have developed this unique form of prejudice where we easily find fault with just about everyone on the planet from actors to politicians and all the many unique individuals in between. It's a shame being this jaded with life. But still, despite all my efforts to reform, the constant onslaught of mundane chit-chat and small-talk makes me nuts. What's a girl to do?
Well, this girl found solace in the world of chick lit. A couple of years ago, I read this wonderful book by Marian Keyes called Sushi for Beginners. In it, there is a character who suffers from my very same affliction, and I found her inner thoughts, her devious mind to be absolutely hilarious. I loved her. I adored her. I was her! I'd finally found a woman I could understand! At least I knew I was not alone! We bitchy girls have our faults, but sometimes the world needs people like us. If nothing else, we make everyone less bitchy than us look like angels.
And you thought Lucie was nice!
Ciao!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Ripped from the headlines
Okay, I just have to make a personal gripe about Law & Order, the TV show franchise. I am a huge fan of crime dramas and mysteries. I can't get enough of them. So, I've been a long-time fan of Law & Order. But for the past year or so, it seems the writers have simply run out of ideas. They advertise that their shows are "ripped from the headlines," but it really seems to me that they've just gotten lazy. I mean, come on. Can't these guys come up with one original storyline? The episode of Law & Order Criminal Intent last night was just too much. Did we really need to rehash the Anna Nicole Smith tragedy? This story saturated the media for weeks. I for one am tired of it. So, why did we have to re-live it in dramatic form? I know, I know. I can just change the channel if I'm so fed up with L&O. Well, I guess I will.
Ciao,
Lucie
Ciao,
Lucie
Monday, May 07, 2007
Things I Love About L.A. Part 2
One of the things I find very annoying about others' perception of LA is that we're all shallow, celebrity-obsessed automatons vying for our own stint in the spotlight. Sure. There are those among us. However, there is a much grittier, more down-to-earth side to LA than anything you may have seen on Access Hollywood. In fact, some of us seek out special Hollywood hideaways where the likes of Paris Hilton would never be found. One such place is The Bourgeois Pig.
This coffee bar is a particular favorite of mine because it stays open very late. Sometimes after you’ve had dinner and a cocktail or two, you just want a cozy spot to sit and sip a latte. After Starbucks, Peets and the Coffee Bean have all closed their doors, the Bourgeois Pig is there to welcome you. With a bevy of big tables, several comfy sofas, and a couple of cushy armchairs, settling in with a mocha latte is a sweet treat after a night spent in the noisy bars and restaurants of Hollywood.
The Bourgeois Pig is no cookie-cutter coffee spot. It radiates funk and originality from the local art hanging on the walls to the pool table in the back. Whether you want to snuggle up with some hottie you snagged earlier in the evening or chat up the cuties playing billiards, the laid back, too-cool-for-school atmosphere provides ample resources.
And the best thing about this rockin' coffee house is that most Angelinos don't even know about it, or perhaps they prefer not to do battle with the scarce parking. Either way, you're always able to find a seat here. It's tucked away on a little stretch of Franklin Avenue right across from the Scientology Celebrity Center (a place I've never ventured into for fear of being brainwashed), sharing the quaint block with a couple of restaurants, a bookstore, a playhouse and some funky vintage shops.
So, if you happen to find yourself in Los Angeles after midnight in desperate need of a caffeine fix, forget the 7-Eleven and head to the Bourgeois Pig. You won't be disappointed!
Ciao,
Lucie
This coffee bar is a particular favorite of mine because it stays open very late. Sometimes after you’ve had dinner and a cocktail or two, you just want a cozy spot to sit and sip a latte. After Starbucks, Peets and the Coffee Bean have all closed their doors, the Bourgeois Pig is there to welcome you. With a bevy of big tables, several comfy sofas, and a couple of cushy armchairs, settling in with a mocha latte is a sweet treat after a night spent in the noisy bars and restaurants of Hollywood.
The Bourgeois Pig is no cookie-cutter coffee spot. It radiates funk and originality from the local art hanging on the walls to the pool table in the back. Whether you want to snuggle up with some hottie you snagged earlier in the evening or chat up the cuties playing billiards, the laid back, too-cool-for-school atmosphere provides ample resources.
And the best thing about this rockin' coffee house is that most Angelinos don't even know about it, or perhaps they prefer not to do battle with the scarce parking. Either way, you're always able to find a seat here. It's tucked away on a little stretch of Franklin Avenue right across from the Scientology Celebrity Center (a place I've never ventured into for fear of being brainwashed), sharing the quaint block with a couple of restaurants, a bookstore, a playhouse and some funky vintage shops.
So, if you happen to find yourself in Los Angeles after midnight in desperate need of a caffeine fix, forget the 7-Eleven and head to the Bourgeois Pig. You won't be disappointed!
Ciao,
Lucie
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