Six years ago today, I started working at the business I’m still at now.  (And yes, I know that sentence was grammatically atrocious.) Having started working in the professional world at the beginning of the dot-com age, six years is an awfully long time to spend in one place, since my longest run somewhere before this was only 16 months. 

Six years ago, I left everything behind — friends, family, a lifelong existence in the Northeast, a career in another industry — and followed a job out to Los Angeles, simply because I needed to start over.  I had no idea what the future would hold, only that I needed a fresh start somewhere new with new people and another attempt to get back into the career field I love doing something I enjoyed.  I started off at the lowest rung on the ladder, making nothing and knowing three people in the entire city of L.A., and I slowly built my way up both professionally and socially, making a life for myself out here.  I’ve gone against the odds:  people back East who said I’d never leave New York or New England, and people at work who told me I’d never reach a position I wanted.  I’ve survived a corporate takeover that decimated our staff and rose to a position and level of recognition in my career field that I desired, and I’ve acclimated (mostly) to a life where the sun sets instead of rises and the ocean’s on the left side instead of the right. 

It’s been quite a ride, and I finally feel like I’ve come into my own.  I can’t imagine not having made this leap now, and I am thankful that I did — it would’ve been easy to continue down the path I was headed, but it wouldn’t have brought me the experiences and the personality-shaping events that I’ve been privileged to undergo over the past six years.  I only wonder what the next six years have in store.

It began as most things do… with Canadians.  There were a bunch of Canadians from my industry down in Los Angeles for some conference, so I went out with them Thursday night to say hi and raise the flag for my company and also to finally meet a few of them in person after speaking with them on the phone for several years.  Somehow, they got it in their heads that they wanted to go to the Beverly Wilshire Hotel (which was, I do have to admit, right across the street from where they were having dinner), though it made the bar tab… excessive?  Especially since these guys can drink.  Though truth be told, what else do they have to do up there during the wintertime except practice?

Friday morning is when it all started going downhill.  I woke up feeling crappy — not in a hangover kind of way, but in a down-with-the-sickness kind of way, and I managed to shock a couple of my co-workers during our Friday morning meeting when my voice sounded like I’d been eating gravel.  For the first time in years, I left work early to go home and crash out in bed for a little while, and no wonder — my temperature was up to 101.  This put a kink in my weekend plans, which included a date I was looking forward to going on and a movie I was looking forward to seeing, plus errands I needed to run.  But the experience has been… interesting.  When your body temp is that high, it starts to feel like, well, you are kind of high.  So I’ve been feeling a bit disassociated from reality over the past couple of days, and to say my dreams have been whacked out is a complete understatement.  Plus, I can’t pay attention to anything for more than a few minutes, so all those movies on TiVo?  Still sitting there.

This didn’t make things any easier on Friday night when my upstairs neighbor’s apartment started to flood, making it rain in my bedroom.  When I first heard the water inside, I had to stop and think:  (1) Is this just rain outside that sounds really real, (2) is my brain playing tricks on me again and making stuff up or (3) is this actually really happening? 

While I’m eating my weight in sugar-free Popsicles, I stumbled across my horoscope this morning… a little too timely if you ask me.

They say that laughter is the best medicine, but sometimes medicine is the best medicine! Make sure you’re up to date on your health. If it’s been a while since you have had a checkup, schedule one today. Your happiness and emotional health can be affected by your physical health, so take care of yourself! It’s a good idea to check in on your diet today too—you have let a few things slide, and it’s time for you to go back to being a little bit more disciplined.

Sadly, it seemed like my weekend had a few circles in them.  Friday night, I went out to meet up with some old friends (and also ended up making some new ones) at Birds, a bar up in Hollywood… Little did I know that the bar was next door to the place I was slated to go on Saturday night. 

Saturday morning, I went with a few friends out to Monterey Park for dim sum since Empress Pavilion in Chinatown was shut down (thanks for the heads up, Chowhound!) and then we returned to the city to wander around Chinatown before taking an almost-3-mile hike to the top of Mount Lee.  If you live in L.A., Mount Lee is where the Hollywood sign is, and we went all the way up to the antenna farm behind the sign.  It’s the closest you can get to the Hollywood sign without trespassing, and it’s pretty neat — you’re actually up behind and above the sign, and the views of the L.A. basin on one side and the Valley on the other are pretty spectacular.  It’s one of those things that I never thought about doing, despite having lived here in L.A. for six years now, and I’m thankful my friends dragged me up there, especially since I can see the Hollywood sign and the antennae from my desk at work… and now I can point out the window and say, “Hey, I’ve been there!” Word to the wise if you plan on doing the hike, though:  Wear shoes that have good support.  The road up there is a paved access road (though you can’t drive it), but the incline is kind of steep in some parts, and my calves and shins weren’t too eager about the experience.  After a quick dinner at Cafe 101, it was over to the Upright Citizens Brigade theater for some improv — which was right next to Birds.

Sunday was another loop:  Up to the Camarillo outlets and back, where I blitzed through the place in just over two hours.  I think my credit card was smoking by the time I left.  And then today was a loop up to Valencia and back (or, as one of my friends calls it, “Val-effing-encia,” thanks to the distance) to have my taxes done.  I got over $1,000 back last year, so I’m hoping to score a big refund this year as well.  Big money big money no whammy!

I’m already starting to think ahead to my next loop — in a little over 2 weeks, I’m heading up to Toronto for their huge annual music and radio industry convention, and I’ve been asked to not only moderate another panel this year, but also appear on one.  Plus, it’ll be a chance to catch up with my Canuck friends and make fun of them for their extra u’s and their metric system, and then they can get me drunk on their superpowered beer and ask me what I think about Canada to hear the drunken American yell out “I LOVE CANADA!” Because, really, when you’re lit up on Molson XXX, how else can you respond?

Going to Hell?  I’ll be driving the bus down there later, so we’ll definitely meet up.  This is the kind of stupidity I participate in (and encourage!) at work — below is an excerpt of an IM conversation I had with a co-worker as we were talking about the $22 million settlement of a lawsuit over a nightclub fire that killed over 100 people.

Co-worker: Interesting story. A case of sue where the money is.
Me: they sued everyone though
Me: they even sued anheuser-busch
Co-worker: the way the laws are set up, makes plenty of sense.
Me: how?  you can’t even set beer on fire!
Co-worker: no, but I’ve had enough to set me on fire
Me: that’s different
Me: and beer doesn’t increase your flammability
Me: just your chances of accidentally becoming on fire

Setting aside the food poisoning that I’m currently battling through, today has been one of those amazing days when I marvel at what I got to do today and wonder just how in the hell I’m privileged enough to do what it is I do for a living.  And today was one of those days when I absolutely love what I do for work.

My boss and one of my co-workers and I got to go to the Grammy radio showcase today — basically, people from around 75-100 radio stations from around the world come into town and are put in a big room, where they all set up on a bunch of tables.  Then a countless number of celebrities are herded through the room, going table to table, being interviewed by all these radio people, who record the interviews and then send them back to their stations so they can air the interviews “live from the Grammys.” It’s actually a pretty cool idea when you think about it, since it allows stations from all over the place to score a ton of great interviews at once, and they only need to go to one place to do it.  I got a chance to catch up with a lot of industry friends, which was great, but the exciting part for me was seeing the celebrities.  No, I still haven’t gotten over that.

Among the people there who I managed to snap some quick pictures of were Flavor Flav, Tia Carrere (schwing!) and Louis Gossett Jr. I also got a chance to talk to Randy Jackson (dawg); Emerson Hart, the former lead singer of Tonic who now has a solo album out, who I interviewed a few months ago for a column and who loves The Best Friend™; and Josh Todd, the lead singer of Buckcherry — I somehow didn’t have the heart/guts to tell him that I did Buckcherry’s big hit “Lit Up” at karaoke a while ago and got a standing ovation.

But the absolute best thing ever — what made me the Happiest Man on Earth and gave me Permagrin™ for the next several hours — was this.  A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how much I’ve loved Idina Menzel for years and how, the day after I saw her perform at a showcase here in Hollywood, I got the chance to interview her for a column for the magazine I write for.  Today, Idina happened to be at the Grammy radio showcase, and the issues of my magazine that my boss had brought along for us to hand out to the radio folks happened to be the issue containing my interview with her.  I was nervous as all hell, even though she couldn’t have been nicer about it, but I got to meet her in person and talk with her for a few minutes today… and actually hand her a copy of the column.  See that smile on my face?  Yeah, that’s not coming off for a while.

Again, I am seeing Idiocracy in action, and the thought of a continued “dumbening” is scaring the crap out of me.  In the course of 1 day, I saw:
- a piece on Countdown with Keith Olbermann, where it was revealed that 23% of British schoolchildren believe Winston Churchill was a fictional character
- a political pundit on CNN talking about how he expects the state-by-state voting to go tomorrow during Super Tuesday, and not once, but twice, he was talking about Arkansas and circled Missouri on a U.S. map
- a profile on JDate where an American-born and -raised and supposedly college-educated woman wrote:  “I am a funny, smart, creative, active and an attractive women. I love outdoor activties, hicking, bicking, etc.” (1) She’s more than one woman, and (2) does anyone know what “hicking” and “bicking” are?

I had a bad feeling going into the Super Bowl that things would go in a way not to my liking, and the Patriots played horribly, so I will concede that the better-playing team won.  That’s not to say that I’m not disappointed, that I would’ve loved to have seen my favorite football team go undefeated for an entire season and go into history without being shot down during the last game by a wild-card entry.  Because I am disappointed.  But so be it.  I watched the game with good company and chili dog nachos and buffalo wings and beer.  And once again, Bud Light had the best commercials.

And the rest of the weekend was definitely enjoyable as well.  I met up with someone for a first date that was supposed to be a quick coffee meetup and ended up lasting 2 hours with plans to see each other again.  And then I ran out to Pasadena to see Cloverfield with Amandarin, which I thought was good although a little predictable.  She wound up with a headache from the cinematography, and I’ve heard similar stories of people getting motion sickness from it as well, but I came out of it all right.  And I was way excited to see the trailer for the new Star Trek movie, although I may have been the only person in the theater going “wheeeee!” like a 9-year-old when it started.  At least I know where I’ll be on Christmas this year!

All that’s left now to get past is a ton of work I have due this week… and the interview.  The piece CBS-TV interviewed me for is airing tomorrow morning, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was a little nervous to see how the whole thing turns out.  There’s always a potential for being misquoted or being edited to the point of coming off sounding like you were saying something completely different from your intentions, and I am speaking on kind of a polarizing topic (it involves JDate, one of my fairly frequent ranting targets), and since they’re showing my profile and putting my name and face on national TV, the possibility of online anonymity fades to almost nil.  I hope it goes well and has a positive outcome, though I fear any potential negative reaction… although as I’ve heard over the past couple of days from a few close friends, we are our own worst critics, and I will probably not come off as bad as I think I’m going to.  That said, I’m still going to be glued to my TV tomorrow morning and probably chewing my nails down to my knuckles until it’s over.

Edited to add: Naturally, the piece got bumped and will air later this week, though I don’t know exactly when later.

I hope you’re all wearing red today… but it’s not just National Go Red for Women Day, it’s also National Hug a Jew Day!  Find yourself a huggable Jew and give ‘em a squeeze.

So, Hilary set me up for this interview dealie with CBS-TV.  Suffice it to say that I was a little nervous — if the prospect of being on national TV wasn’t daunting enough, I also wanted to make sure that I was well-spoken and also said things in such a way that they couldn’t misquote me or punch in (or out) at an inopportune time and make me look like an ass on TV (as if I need any help with that).  It actually turned out to be pretty low-key, with just the cameraman showing up — the producer asked me questions over a speakerphone, and the cameraman set up a light, with a piece of paper with a smiley face on it taped to the pole for me to focus on so it would look like I was being interviewed by someone just off-camera.  That said, I also had a bit of an audience, since CBS wanted to tape at my office so they could shoot footage of me working on a desktop computer, so a few people gathered to watch while the whole thing was going down.  So when I said something like “It’s not my place to tell them to get off,” leave it to one of my friends to burst into laughter and say, “You said ‘get off.’”

I work with 9-year-olds.  And I couldn’t be happier, especially since I’m one of the instigators.  And today is Thursday, which we’ve declared Sexual Harassment Day — not anything having to do with prevention, Thursdays are the day when we specifically try to commit sexual harassment… though sometimes it spills over into Friday as well.

You know you’re in Los Angeles when they ask for a photo ID at the gym, and the woman in front of you hands the gym employee a headshot.  Pretentious much?

Quick hits:
- Note to self:  Know your audience.  When you tell a woman you feel like you got blitzed at work today, chances are they will probably think you are talking about the “I got drunk beyond the capacity to stand up or keep from embarrassing myself” meaning of the term, not the football play.  But after spending literally 2 hours straight on the phone today, doing 6 straight interviews, I felt like I’d been taken out by an offensive line and my brain had been sacked.
- Speaking of interviews, thanks to the awesome Hilary passing my name along, I’m going to be interviewed early next week by CBS for a segment they’re doing for The Early Show.  My world domination continues with national TV exposure, bwahahahahahaha… Details to come.
- Speaking of performances, I went to see a co-worker perform in a play tonight, and I felt a little pang of having not done acting on a stage for 10 years.  I did some shows with a couple of singing groups since then, and I’ve done a bunch of speaking engagements and presentations since then, but I haven’t done any more acting, as much as I enjoyed it when I did it.  My co-worker said I ought to join his acting class, and it’s been kicking around my head, though it’s not like I don’t have any other unfinished tasks to take care of, like the guitar sitting in my living room…
- The insomnia is slightly back, so I’ve had to up the dosage, so to speak — if not for caffeine, I’d be a gelatinous mush right now.  The one good thing is that there’s plenty on TiVo for me to catch up on, since there are actually shows on TV I want to see — plus, the writer’s strike is giving me a chance to catch up on some older shows I hadn’t seen all the episodes of.  Not that I wouldn’t be happy to have my new ones back… though I’m pretty damn excited about Jericho‘s return next month.

After talking to a friend last week about The 25th Hour, it happened to be on tonight — so I watched, having not seen the movie in a few years.  One thing I’ve always liked about Spike Lee movies is how he makes New York City a character… it’s so woven into the film that there’s no other city he could’ve set it in.  Naturally, it made me miss New York again… I had visions of being out early on a great spring morning in Central Park.  And it makes me realize that it really is true what Brian Cox’s character says in the movie — being a New Yorker is something that’s in your bones.  You can leave the city, but it never leaves you.  Even after having lived out in Los Angeles for six years, people still ask me upon meeting me if I’m from New York.  It’s like I emanate the essence of the city or something.  Maybe that’s why, despite my time here and the fact that I’ve built a pretty good life here, I’m still reticent to call L.A. “home.” It just doesn’t feel entirely right.

Despite that, though… I’m still a Patriots fan, and I’ll be screaming at the TV in their favor and against the Giants when the Super Bowl comes in two weeks.

Dear Anonymous Fucko,

You think you’re sooooo clever, leaving all those comments and insults?  Whatever.  You’re just showing how much of a pussy you are.  It’s so easy to sit behind a wall of anonymity and sling shit with stupid fake names and e-mail addresses.  If I’m going to insult someone — and trust me, part of my job is to mock people, and I do it on a daily basis — then put your real name behind it.  I always do.  If you’re not even willing to put your name on what you say, then it’s worthless.  And so are you.

On top of which, if you so readily believe that what I write is so boring and I’m not that clever, then why are you spending so much time and energy here?  Obviously, something about what I write matters so much to you that you feel the need to expend effort on it.  Quite frankly, it’s a big Internet, there’s obviously other places you could go if you don’t like what you see here.  Because you’re not welcome here, and if you hate this site so much, then leave.  Don’t let the door hit you in your bitter, jealous ass on your way out.

So Nicole and I are running our own little hardcore campaign that arose out of some passing discussions of Life, The Universe & Everything last week, and the campaign is simply this:  Nut up in ‘08.  It flows nicely, yet it has such a direct message.  It’s time for us to nut up and get our crap together and realize that we are kickass people, so eff everyone who thinks otherwise.  He’s/she’s just not that into us?  He/she can suck it.  We are awesome, and if people can’t recognize that, they are unworthy of our time and effort.  Last night was the inaugural run, and I’ve got to say that it honestly does work.  Life’s tough, and now we have helmets.

Nicole is printing t-shirts.  And discussions are underway to jointly write a book, tentatively titled Nutting Up: Telling People To Suck It When They’re Not That Into You.  Please feel free to join us and our cause. 

Nut up in ‘08!

I think I may have to break up with my doctor.

I’ve always had kind of a weird relationship with doctors since I went to college and left behind my family doctor back home.  My dad’s a doctor and (in my extremely humble opinion) a really great one, and he always knew who the good doctors were in the area and, when I needed to see someone, would be able to get me an appointment with someone competent who he trusts (especially given the nightmare stories he’s told me about some of his former co-workers).  But Dad’s eight hours away and doesn’t know anyone in Los Angeles, and I need someone here I can just call and see if I’m not feeling well.

So I’ve had this one doctor who I’ve been going to for the last six years.  He came recommended by one of my co-workers when I first moved here, and I figured since I don’t get sick all that often, it’s fine that I just have a guy who I’ve established as My Doctor.  Except the past few times I’ve been to see him, I get the feeling like he’s almost following the rules of that book He’s Just Not That Into You, hence the reasoning why I’m feeling like it’s time to finally break up with him.  For example, when I first started getting sick last Wednesday, I didn’t have anything in my head except for symptoms that matched strep throat, so I went in Wednesday morning for a strep test.  I found out later that now they have rapid strep tests that can give you results within 15 minutes but no — this guy had one of his assistants stick that swab down my throat, then he quickly popped in to tell me he wouldn’t get the results back for 2 days and began walking back out of the room.  He didn’t volunteer anything else, I had to ask him, “Well, what do I do in the meantime since my throat is killing me?” Either way — never heard back from his office, not even to tell me the test was negative.  I got the impression that, like a taken-for-granted lover, I’d been left behind for other exciting patients because he knew I’d come crawling back.

Then there was the time I had a sinus infection and they called me to ask which pharmacy they could call in a prescription to.  I gave them my local place, then said, “I know it’s standard practice for this kind of thing to prescribe Zithromax, but please don’t.  It makes me violently ill.” The nurse snapped at me, “Are you trying to tell the doctor how to do his job?” Naturally, when I showed up at the pharmacy that night after the doctor’s office had already closed, Zithromax was waiting for me.  Just like a bad boyfriend, he was giving me what he thought was best, not what I needed.

So it’s gotten to the point where I’m almost afraid to call my doctor, yet I can’t seem to leave him because I’m a little reticent about maybe not finding anyone new out there… just like the end of a relationship where you start thinking about checking out because things have gotten so bad, but you’re just too scared of being single.  And like my desire to date a woman who’s Jewish, I also have to contend with finding a doctor who’s within my HMO.  Anyone got any friends — er, doctors they can set me up with?