So, I decided to treat myself to a lovely drink at Gelato Bar in Tujunga Village. I’ll be honest with you; sometimes their gelato disappoints. It can have a freezer burn taste to it, especially if you buy a scoop from an obviously older batch (like eggnog in mid-January). That said, their hot drinks are fantastic. Today, I had the ginger latte (no coffee) and a delectable feta pie, which I think is delivered from La Brea Bakery, but don’t quote me on it. It made the long drive back from the west side totally worth it.

So today, we decided to go on a drive (that ended at Scoops, OK? You caught me red-handed!) after our lunch at Swingers, which incidentally did not sit all that well. Leaping off that tangent, I and my husband-to-be went downtown to the Jewelry District. We had been once but in the middle of the night during our neon tour. So, I was not prepared for the number of people and shops lining Broadway. It was a grimy festival of large-cross necklaces and weird bridal shops. We then traveled down Maple, finding the same grimy shops selling large bolts of fabric. People everywhere and only blocks away from the tents of Skid Row. It was bizarre. Neat… but strange.

Los Angeles is so weird this way. You can live here for years before stumbling upon a whole ‘nother world. It’s the city of a million little cities.

The other day, I parked on Schrader and proceeded to put $2.00 in the meter in order to park for 2 hours. And I put in a quarter. And another quarter. And another. And so on. I got 8 minutes per quarter. Five cents was netting me only 1 minute (do the math… $6 for 2 hours). Finally, I ran out of money. The nice gentleman who parked, opened his hatchback, and sat staring at me offered to give me some change. I declined, fearful of what I had to do for said silver.

I happen to know, by the way, that I am not the only person who gets hosed in Hollywood. So, what’s going on?

Which puts me into terrors, of course. I always have a nightmare that I won’t be let in because I don’t pass the hotness muster.

So, I bought a new dress at White House|Black Market, the mall store with the vaguely racist (I mean, why do we have to look at things in terms of black and white? WHY?!) and incredibly odd name. I met a wonderful French woman there who promised me tips for a future Paris trip. I’ve just been making new friends left and right. It’s the spirit of Obama coming to fruition.

But that’s neither here nor there. After the most awesome Madonna concert ever,

Lily and me posing in front of Fergie

I don’t care if Josef Stalin rises from the dead and decides to run for governor of CA with a platform like this:

1. Fix the 405.
2. Eat babies.
3. Abolish reality TV

I will still vote for him.

You bet.
You sit around.
You drink and eat.
Rinse. Repeat.

I totally smell like dirt, but it was pretty neat. A little boring but neat. We won $161… and spent $232.

Tomorrow is dollar day… $1 admission, drinks, beer, popcorn, programs, and hot dogs. Take Columbus Day off work, and spend it gambling. A fitting tribute to that ultimate gambler. Take that, Queen Isabella of Spain! Just kidding; she was totally for the voyage. So, let’s not besmirch her name… well, unless we’re talking about that whole expelling Muslims and Jews from her country thing.

The National Transportation Safety Board is looking into claims that the engineer, 46-year-old Robert Sanchez, was sending text messages to two teenagers on Friday when his commuter train slammed into a Union Pacific freight train in Chatsworth, killing two dozen people, including himself.

Sarah Palin, the Republican vice presidential nominee, was “a good-looking woman.”

The night started off weird, with me confusedly trying to enter the not-so-important-looking VIP section and being held off by an older woman with a black ponytail. My bad. I was just trying to get out of everyone’s way, sigh.

The set opened with Kid Cudi, who repeatedly and loudly proclaimed how high he was, I believe from crystal meth, but don’t quote me on that. He must’ve been high when he thought that rapping over M.I.A.’s Paper Planes constituted originality. Dude, I could rap over that song right now, and people would cheer. Anyway, we came in towards the end of his act, and it was nothing special. Sorry, Kid.

About a half an hour later, after standing in the suffocatingly hot Roxy (home of John Belushi’s last party), the curtain came up on DJ AM and Travis Barker. And out came the blunts! I honestly have never seen so much weed at a club concert. So many people were smoking around us, I was afraid I’d get a contact high (now that I think of it, I did crave Cheetos on the drive home). It was pretty annoying, I have to say, because it just stunk up the joint. The sweaty, fat dude in front of me didn’t help; he smelled like a barn. Wave your hands in the air.

The show lasted about an hour with Paul Wall and his grill making an appearance. I have to hand it to Travis; I have no idea how he continuously (and I mean continuously) drummed for that long. And the range of songs, thanks to great DJing by Monsieur AM, was impressive. I also particularly liked DJ AM’s goofy lip-synching/miming throughout the show.

All in all, fun show, despite some of the juicebags in the audience. TRV$DJAM will be the band at the VMAs, and I think it’s worth tuning in just to see them perform.

On to Disneyland…

Yay!

We took a quick look at Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, which is diminutive compared to Cinderella’s Castle in the Magic Kingdom.

We started off getting our FastPasses (a must!) and riding Winnie the Pooh (B-), Big Thunder Mountain (A+, and we rode it twice), the Haunted Mansion (A-), and Roger Rabbit’s Cartoon Spin (B), located in Mickey’s Toon Town.

Here’s Joe and I in Goofy’s car in Toon Town, which is basically a place for little kids. There are really cool visuals there, though, like Chip and Dale’s tree.

On to Fantasyland, where we rode Snow White’s Scary Adventures (D) and Peter Pan’s Flight (A). I also pulled the sword from the stone, people.

While Joe and M rode the Matterhorn…

…I rode the Storybook Land Canal Boats.

We traveled to Tomorrowland, where we visited Star Tours (B), Innoventions (C is for corporate-sponsorship), Buzz Lightyear: Astro Blaster (B+), and Honey, I Shrunk the Audience (C), which I did not really like. At all. Sorry guys.

We also spent a lot of time in Adventureland, riding Jungle Cruise (C-, though I have to think it was super-cool in the ’50s), Indiana Jones Adventure (A+), and the Enchanted Tiki Room (B, which is an average of A from me and C from Joe. I love them birds.).

Finally, we stopped for the daily parade, which featured all of our faves, including the Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and the Lion King.

Is it just me, or does Alice in Wonderland look like a dude?

Anyway, our only disappointment was missing the fireworks due to “wind.” But by that time, my legs were jello, and it was time to head home. Say good-bye, Mickey and Minnie!

Montrose is a little town tucked in between Glendale and La Canada Flintridge. We spent time in the charming Montrose Shopping Center. Unfortunately, it was 6 pm, so most places were closed. The restaurants, however, were kicking. We ate at Pho22 (or Pho 22) where Joe got the soup, and I got the Vermicelli bowl. Both were satisfying if not out of this world. The service was fast, efficient, and, well, not exactly warm (couldn’t be worse service than the guy at the UPS store today, though, sheesh). I’d go again if in the neighborhood, but I won’t be making any special trips.

For dessert, I got a Mexican hot chocolate at the Black Cow Cafe, which was spicy and satisfying. My only complaint is there was something weird in it, like soggy paper. It was icky, and it almost ruined my drink. Almost.

Overall, I’d stop by Montrose again during a nice, sunny day (it’s LA, so pretty much any day) to check out the mostly mom-and-pop-owned shops.

It’s been raining so bad even the cats need an umbrella INDOORS!

I’m lame, I know.

I’ve seen very little of that aspect of Los Angeles so far. The people, to my surprise, are a lot less pretty than I imagined. As far as I can tell, tall, blonde supermodels don’t rule the land. Sure, you ocassionally see a too-tan, too-muscled, pretty boy with spikey, highlighted hair, but he’s a minority. Of course, I’m not hanging out at where the elite A-listers party (seriously, no kidding!). I’m usually spending time at the local Rite Aid, buying luxuries such as Cetaphil and chewing gum. Still, I’m much more likely to see a 200 lb bbw than a Charlize Theron lookalike (unless you are talking about how she looked in Monster).

The one thing I have noticed so far are the cars. BMWs, Mercedes, Porsches. I’d estimate that 1 in 30 cars in Pittsburgh would be considered “luxury” vehicles. Here, I’d say it’s closer to 1 in 10. And oh how the Los Angelenos love their cell phones. And they love to fly down Ventura Blvd. in their convertibles gabbing on their mobiles and adjusting their $300 sunglasses. Lots of people here are R-I-C-H rich.

That’s not to say that the majority of residents are snobby. I expected, along with plastic people, to encounter a lot of plastic personalities. For the most part so far, I have met the opposite. On the whole, people seem generally friendly, sometimes scarily so to this reserved Ohio girl (I was enlisted by a woman at the supermarket to help her search for non-fat-free salad dressing for a good five minutes). I can say without hesitation, though, that the friendliness does not extend to the road; LA drivers live up to their reputation as hostile.

Yesterday, we went down to Malibu and after a classy lunch at KFC wandered onto the pier. There, they were filming a scene for the new WB series Summerland. All the “background” women players had huge-mongous chests. Review: Fun to watch for a while, but we spent more time watching the surfers wipe out on Surfrider Beach.