This Is How I Know

…that spring has sprung in Los Angeles. This weekend I collected a few pieces of springtime evidence to share with you. Here they are:

1. After a spring rain (read: downpour; read: a thunderstorm that vaguely resembles those on the East Coast [finally!]), the sky is bright blue, the grass is glowing green, the air is smog-free, and the clouds are puffy and white. Los Angeles. You are too pretty.

2. Trader Joe’s is selling small bunches of happiness for just $1.29. Need I say more?

3. The color of this juice. This is fresh strawberry lemonade from Mendocino Farms in West Hollywood. I want this juice at every meal. I want to knit a blanket from yarn dyed this color and wrap myself up like an enchilada and drink this juice on a cool spring evening on the front patio.

Oh yeah, and this guy is loving the dog-park life.

p.s. A list of ingredients to make the Vegan Curried Orzo with Roasted Cauliflower from Mendocino Farms. (Please excuse the misspelling of “turmeric.” Maybe they need a freelance editor? Call me, Mendocino!)

And Then We Toured Los Angeles*

At Zuma Point beach in Malibu on an unseasonably warm day | At a viewpoint in the Hollywood Hills | Beverly Hills | Mary was eager to compare L.A. Goodwill prices to Philly Goodwill prices | Dad and Mary’s knowledge of L.A. was limited to what they saw on “Two and A Half Men” we changed that | Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker showed up on Hollywood Blvd | I love that Paul Newman took off his shoes to make his footprints at Grauman’s Chinese Theater | On the stairs of the Kodak Theatre | We spent a good deal of time at Barney’s Beanery | Santa Monica Pier | Who owns this incredible cottage in Beverly Hills?! That’s what I want to know.

I’m sad my dad and Mary have left. We had a wonderful time together.

Here’s to a great week.

*All photos courtesy of Mary’s iPhone.

Dad and Mary Visit the Dog Park

Last week, while my dad and stepmom were visiting Los Angeles, we all drove into the Hollywood Hills to visit our favorite dog park. Though he’s not pictured above, Kodi was, in fact, present at the dog park. Here’s proof:

This photo was taken on our drive to the park. Rest assured, my dad didn’t toss Kodi out the window. Kodi likes to feel the fresh air on his face, and with my dad’s lap to propel him farther than usual, he decided to go all out (almost literally). My dad is actually holding onto Kodi for dear life. You have to admire the little guy’s bravado.

More photos coming soon. Danny is out of town this weekend on a job, so I’m taking advantage of this Saturday morning to enjoy a salted caramel latte (!) and a bacon and cheddar croissant (!!) from my new favorite bakery, Short Cake, at the Grove.

Meanwhile, Kodi is busy missing Danny. Can you tell?

I think I’ll take him to the dog park today.

An Extra Day

This person named Vic did something really special with her extra twenty-four hours.

She met and photographed twenty-four new people on the streets of London.

Like this guy:

I wonder what would happen if I did that in L.A.

p.s. My dad and stepmom are coming to visit today!

Leap Day 2012

{i found this little ladybug above the front door today.  good luck?}

Tomorrow is a Leap Day. Our little planet, in its perfectly timed orbit around the sun, has gifted us a rare additional day. That’s twenty-four extra hours to accomplish something–anything–before February becomes March and we all look at the calendar and wonder where the time has gone.

What are you going to do with your Leap Day?

I know that I don’t want this extra time to slip away from me. I especially don’t want to spend this Leap Day doing what I’ve been doing a lot of recently–worrying, fretting, worrying about fretting, etc.

Tomorrow I am going to think carefully about how I choose to spend my time. Maybe I will listen to a good podcast on the way to the office. I will work hard and enjoy what I do. I will wash the dishes after dinner or I won’t–it’s okay either way. I will go easy on myself. I will give Kodi good, solid pets rather than distracted pats. I will treat Danny like he’s my very best friend, because he is. I will enjoy a book club meeting and be thankful that I’ve met so many wonderful people in Los Angeles. I will let Danny play music before bed without getting irritated because my brain is too full of noise to handle anything more, even good music.

The possibilities are endless.

Or maybe all of my positive Leap Day plans will fall through. That’s okay, too. I feel better already, just having typed this.

Leap Day seems like the perfect opportunity to slow down and reevaluate. I want to make the most of it.

Happy Leap Day, friends.

{kodi celebrates every leap year by sleeping in.}

The Oscars + Pizza

Oscar nominations were announced this morning. Are you excited? I am, and not just because I’m looking forward to a few upcoming trips to the movies to see the films we haven’t yet, and not only because I can’t wait to find out who wins Best Picture this year. I am excited because the Oscars mean pizza.  Lots and lots of pizza.

Last year when the Oscars rolled around, Danny and I had just moved to Los Angeles. We had been in town for about two weeks, we knew hardly anyone, and we didn’t have a television (or any other pieces of furniture). On Oscar night, we walked down the street to a pizza place that had advertised an Oscar party on its website. When we arrived—fashionably early, because we hate to miss the previews—we walked into the restaurant on a rented red carpet. The place was decorated for a party and some of the diners were dressed in ball gowns. We sat down in a booth on the patio outside (because you can do that in LA in February) and we promptly ordered two pizzas. I remember thinking that the pizzas we ate that night were bizarre. They tasted good, but they were far from what I was used to. They were a little burnt, the crust was thin and crunchy like a cracker, and the toppings–heirloom tomatoes, runny cheeses with complicated names–seemed too gourmet to call what we were eating a pizza. You know, a real pizza, of the East Coast variety. At the time, though, my misgivings about the food took a backseat to how strange and surreal it felt to be in Hollywood on Oscar night, just a few miles from where the awards show was taking place.

Two years ago, Danny and I hosted an Oscar party for friends at his apartment in Manayunk. It was our first experience as the kind of couple that hosts a party, and we worked hard to make our guests happy. We chopped vegetables, bought a variety of chips and dips, wrapped tiny hot dogs in triangles of dough, and sprinkled homemade soft pretzels with fancy coarse salt we purchased for the occasion. On top of all of that, I decided to try my hand at pizza making. What I eventually lifted from the oven, though, was not at all what I had had in mind. I am a lover of thin pizza. I am uninterested in the thick, chewy, deep-dish stuff; that combination of two-inch-thick dough and overflowing toppings that leaves you uncomfortably full and heavy in the gut. And yet, that is exactly what I made. Puffy, puffy pizza.

I was discouraged. Something had gone wrong in my preparation of the dough, but I didn’t know what. Maybe I had added too much yeast. Maybe I didn’t stretch the dough enough before baking. Either way, I was deterred. Perhaps pizza wasn’t my thing? Perhaps so many years of not being able to eat pizza (thanks to lactose intolerance) had made me clumsy in my own interpretation of it, unable to feel it out properly in the kitchen? My pizza karma was out of whack.

And so I didn’t make another pizza from scratch again until this past Sunday, when I decided to give it another go using a recipe from a trusted source who felt confident enough to call it The Best Pizza Dough Ever recipe.  And guess what? It really is an exceptional recipe. The crust was not too thick and it was not too thin. The toppings-to-crust ratio was just right. That recipe helped me get my pizza karma back.

So much has changed since I made that puffy pizza two years ago. Danny and I will celebrate the Oscars in Los Angeles again. We still don’t have a television, so we won’t be hosting any parties and we’ll have to find a place to go.

But at the very least, we know there will be pizza. Good pizza.

2012

In the first week of 2012, we waved goodbye to our East Coast friends and family and boarded a plane for Chicago, then San Jose, then Burbank. Then we rode in a taxi to West Hollywood, and finally we were back in our little apartment.

It was a long trip.

On long trips, I normally spend a good deal of time thinking about stuff. I write in my journal; I make lists. In this case, a list of goals for 2012 would have been appropriate, but no such list was created on that first flight of 2012, and for one very good reason. This guy:

We love this guy, but this guy does not love being under the seat in front of you on an airplane. In fact, he doesn’t want to be under anything other than your hand, which should be constantly moving in a petting/scratching motion. He wants to be on top of you or beside you, sleeping soundly or looking out the window. But because none of those things are allowed on airplanes, he resorted to snorting in frustration, biting the dog carrier, scratching furiously at its sides. He emitted a high-pitched whine. He was generally unhappy.

To keep him as happy as possible, we snuck furtive pets; fed him approximately forty-five dog biscuits, four tablespoons of peanut butter, and three sedatives (recommended dosage: 1/2 pill); and told him over and over again that everything would be okay. And then we discovered the ultimate trick: the foot pet. Danny slid off his shoe and put his stockinged foot into the top of the dog carrier. Then he massaged Kodi with his toes for several hours until we landed. After that, Kodi was relatively quiet, comforted by nonstop foot pets.

Even though there were moments of peace on that flight, I was already too stressed and exhausted to think seriously about my goals for 2012. Then again, it’s never too late.

So I’m making a list of what I’d like to accomplish, and I’m going to honor it. Before I do that, though, I’d like to take a moment to honor what 2012–this strange and ominous year–has already given us.

Sleepy, snuggly late mornings.

Home-cooked meals (like the meatballs in the pot above). We haven’t eaten out since we got back to L.A.!

Lovely views.

A bath for Kodi, who is a maniac when he gets wet.

Also, several new video projects, exciting work events, long walks and trips to the dog park, and relaxing afternoons and nights spent watching movies.

I feel ready for 2012 now.