Friday, April 18, 2008

'My Interview With Alicia Witt', or 'Why I Cringe At The Sound Of My Voice'

alicia-witt-miss-pasternak-two-and-a-half-menThe spring issue of Genlux magazine is on the newsstands, and my interview with Alicia Witt (88 Minutes) is the cover story. Which is exciting because the photos are beautiful, but honestly, my interview pales in comparison. (Although, in my defense they did change a word here and there.) And holy crap - my byline is like 90-point type, so there's no pretending I didn't do it.

Why is it that sometimes seeing your own words in print is as painful as hearing your own voice on tape? There you are, thinking you sound like Lauren Bacall or Angelina Jolie, but instead what comes back at you from that speaker sounds like Fran Drescher being strangled. While gargling. Inside a tin can.

For some reason I'm thinking everyone reading this interview is going to picture me as a three-foot-tall, pear-shaped housewife wearing mom-jeans and a newsboy cap.

Which, for the record, I'm not. I'm wearing a fedora.







(Click here to read text. You know, only if you want to.)

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Friday, April 11, 2008

Look Who's Talking

Awhile ago I told you we had gotten a new cat, Milkshake. Isn't he cute? We love him to death, but problem is sometimes he does bad things, things that make me threaten to make him live in the garage, or put on that humiliating, pink furry cat sweater I bought him as a joke.

Thank goodness I took that Cat Whispering class! Best five-grand I ever spent, even though it was being given by a guy who called himself 'PussyLuvr' who lived with a bunch of other middle-aged guys in a trailer. Because without his help I never would have been able to figure out what Milkshake was trying to tell me. Just look at some of the things he's said to me in the past week:

"I left you a present in your shower! I know it smells, but I MADE IT MYSELF."

"KACK! KACK! KACKKKK! HAIRBALL!"

"Of course I appreciate the fact that you saved me from the shelter. That's why I'm scratching the shit out of your leather couch."

"Uh, please stop trying to pull your jacket out from under me WHEN I'M TRYING TO SLEEP."

"I love you."

"I hate you."

"I WILL sleep on your stomach, bitch."

"I hope somebody feeds you 'Lamb and Rice' everyday and for every meal in your next life."

"Help! That tinfoil ball is totally trying to kill me."

"I'll stop attacking your arm when it stops looking like a big piece of tuna."

"Hey, you think YOUR poop smells like raindrops and daisies?"



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Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

I don't believe in dreams as prophecy, but I do think they can say a lot about the person having them. For instance, maybe they can tell us the difference between someone who is worried about school and her academic future, and someone whose biggest concern is getting jacked at McDonalds.

Kira: I had the worst nightmare last night! We had the mean substitute, Mr. D, and I had forgotten to do all of my homework. He started yelling at me and then started sending me really mean emails! It was awful!

Kiyomi: Omigod! I had an even worser nightmare! I dreamed that I got a Happy Meal and when I opened it there was only one chicken McNugget instead of six! I was freaking out!

I tend to think the McNugget dream really is scarier, but that's probably because I'm on a diet and have only had a whole-wheat cracker and a grape today.



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Thursday, April 03, 2008

My Surreal Life: I Had Lunch With Jessica Alba Today

I spent five hours at Kira's middle school today. It was their Open House, and for two hours before classroom visits they had a World's Fair with food booths, games, jugglers and live music. I had volunteered to set up and work the PTA bake sale, so there I was in our makeshift booth made out of lunch benches, with my frosting-smeared shirt and plastic gloves hustling brownies and cupcakes for three-hours to hoards of adolescents and their parents.

But before that? I had lunch with Jessica Alba.

Slightly more exciting than selling baked goods to middle schoolers, but equally nerve wracking.

I had been asked to interview her by Genlux magazine, who had me previously interview Hayden Panettierre and recently Alicia Witt. No problem! These phone interviews had been relatively easy, chatting for forty-five-minutes about Versace and celebrity beauty secrets while I sat in my office clad in faded sweatpants and my torn Gap t-shirt, the phone receiver nestled comfortably in my unbrushed hair.

But then I was told that this one had to be in person, that I would be sitting down, one-on-one and face-to-face with Jessica Alba, she of the perfect Revlon skin and the Maxim's Hot 100 List. Did they know who I was? Were they aware that I often ventured out in public in my pajamas? My first reaction was to try and get out of doing it altogether, but halfway through my story I could tell they weren't buying my "mysterious ailment that prevented me from leaving the house" and they really got suspicious when I got to the part about my ten-pound goiter.

To make matters worse, the lunch would take place in a trendy restaurant on one of the hippest streets in L.A. Why, this is the block where some of the biggest celebrities have crashed their cars and had public meltdowns that led to immediate trips to rehab. So much pressure! I felt like I would be expected to charge up in my minivan, run over the valet and fall out into the street while simultaneously flashing my panties and chugging from a quart bottle of Vodka.

(To prove what a serious journalist I am, I'll have you know I prepared extensively for the interview. And by 'prepared' I mean getting a manicure and going to the mall to buy a killer top and a new jacket.)

But in spite of all my nervousness and worries, it went surprisingly well. While somewhat guarded, she was sweet, down to earth and surprisingly easy to talk to. And here's one thing I noticed: People are very nice to you when you're sitting with Jessica Alba. I believe at one point we had three waiters standing by our table, and halfway through our meal the owner came over to ask if I'd like my quesadilla re-made, since it had gotten cold during the course of the interview. Baskets of bread and bottles of water appeared magically at the table. I'd like to take Jessica with me to my local Starbucks and see if that snippy barista still rolls her eyes when I ask for more foam on my cappuccino.

My favorite parts of the interview were where we talked about her pregnancy, and about babies, and about raising kids in this city. I told her stories about my girls, and at the end of the interview I gave her two cards Kira and Kiyomi had made for her. She seemed genuinely touched and read both of them carefully, and brought them out to show her friend who came to pick her up when we had finished. Of course, I told the girls all of this and thought they'd be thrilled, but Kiyomi's only reaction was, "But wait - and you still didn't get us her autograph?"

I haven't even listed to the tape yet, which I have to admit I'm dreading since it will inevitably have me cringing at the sound of my voice and the inappropriate giggling. How many times did I say 'um?' Just how insincere and pandering did I sound when I said, "I love your hair!" Could I have been more dorky when I asked her friend to take a picture of us? At that creepy juncture I may as well have asked to exchange phone numbers, given her a lock of my hair and invited her over for a sleepover.

I'll let you know when the interview comes out. And if I've changed my name.

But at the end of the day, this much I know for sure - I sold a helluva lot of brownies.

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Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Keep the Ball, Just Give Me The Peanuts and CrackerJack

MetroDad has a great post up right now about baseball. Specifically, baseball players of Asian descent, who he calls "our greatest weapons in battling mainstream media's perception of the emasculated Asian male." I say amen to that, since Asians certainly aren't getting any respect in Hollywood, where all the roles for rickshaw drivers and grocery owners have completely dried up.

I also have a post up about baseball, over on UpTake (formerly Kango.) The difference is, I don't know crap about the game - in fact, I'm probably more qualified to perform an appendectomy than I am to talk about batting averages and line drives. But I did some extensive research (I must have clicked on the Dodger Official Website like sixty freakin' times!) and I think I've greatly increased my knowledge of the game:

I’m not a season ticket holder, so I would head down to Chavez Ravine (as all us Dodger experts call it) and buy a one-day ticket. They range in price from $130 for MVP seating all the way down to $11 for what appears to be a seat in the top section inside a stall in the men’s bathroom. I’d decide to splurge for a $70 seat, which along with having a great view of the field appears to be painted a pleasing orange color that would go great with my complexion...Read More...



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Friday, March 28, 2008

'21': Why Hollywood Continues to Be Racist

I won't be going to see "21" and it's not because a review I just read compares the film to a "two-hour commercial for the Las Vegas Visitors and Convention Bureau." And it's not because that same review called lead actor Jim Sturgess "not particularly interesting" and Kate Bosworth an "onscreen vacuum."

No, it's because I haven't been so offended by Hollywood since they cast David Carradine in the role of a wise Chinese sage and called it Kung Fu. (And look - they even got his eyes to slant up!)

"21" is based on the true story of a group of MIT students who made a ton of money in Vegas with an elaborate card counting scheme. In real life the two main players in the story are Jeff Ma and Mike Aponte, who are both of Asian descent.

That's right, and they are played in the movie by Bosworth and Sturgess. In case you hadn't noticed, neither of them are even close to being Asian. Thanks again Hollywood, for once again telling the world that Asians aren't even capable of portraying themselves.

I can't wait to see the Hollywood version of the upcoming Olympics in China, with Shia LeBouf playing the role of China's gymnastic team star and Richard Gere as a Tibetan monk.

Hopefully they'll have some roles for some actual Asians - maybe as a rickshaw driver, or a laundress, or a sushi chef, or, yes - a Kung Fu master! That is, unless David Carradine is up for the role.

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Thursday, March 27, 2008

Choosing Between A Dancing Mouse and a Stuffed Bear

I remember when Kiyomi was turning six and had decided that the only place she wanted to celebrate her birthday was Chuck E. Cheese's. Not looking forward to an afternoon filled with screaming, the pinging of video games and hair matted together with a combination of punch and cotton candy (not to mention that stage show with the break-dancing Mr. Cheese) I bravely suggested an alternative, something more, well - educational.

How about a trip to the museum, where her and her friends could visit one of the exciting animal dioramas and come face to face with a life-sized bear? It sounded exciting to me, even though the bear was stuffed and the only thing even resembling a video game in the whole place was the ATM machine in the snack bar.

By the glaring looks I got I realized that majestic bear didn't stand a chance against a stageful of lesser creatures doing the cha-cha. She won that battle, but that didn't stop me from making it a point to take my kids to 'smart' destinations once in a while, and I wrote about my favorite ones in Los Angeles for Kango this week:

I’m familiar with the reactions: the sad eyes, the whining, the frantic efforts to hide in the laundry room. No, I’m not talking about your cat when faced with a vet visit, but your children when you mention that you’ll be taking them to ‘somewhere educational.’

Sure, you’ll get more cheers for Chuck E. Cheese’s, but sometimes it’s nice to take the kids somewhere that teaches them more than how quickly a roll of quarters can disappear when you’re mesmerized by a large waltzing mouse. Here are some of my favorite ‘smart’ destinations in Los Angeles. I’ll bet they’ll forget all about that dancing rodent...Read More...

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Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Brainetics Can Make You Smarter and Fun At Parties

I was recently asked to review a product called Brainetics, a DVD learning system designed to help children in grades 4 through 7 master math and language skills. Seeing as my kids spend about 90% of their waking hours in front of the TV, I was hoping for something besides a DVD to sharpen their math chops - something more low-tech, like an abacus or a stone tablet with carved roman numerals. But I found the program to be pretty effective, and I may have even learned a thing or two...Read More...



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Tuesday, March 25, 2008

'Autism: The Musical' is Awesome, But (Really) Don't Take My Word For It

autism-the-musical-hboI was talking to a friend recently and as is my habit these days I started going on and on about "Juno," how it was my favorite movie and how great it is and how it - yes, this is the best part - it was written by a blogger! Which for some strange reason failed to elicit an overly enthusiastic response from my friend - I think her actual words were, "Really? And it was good?"

A few days later she told me she had finally gone to see the movie (something about needing to shut me up) and when I asked her how she liked it I could tell it hadn't quite measured up to my psychotically-glowing, overly-fawning, bordering-on-unnatural-love review.

I tend to do this, glom on to something and then yammer on about it incessantly, beating it to death until everyone around me is just plain sick of hearing about it and eventually develops an aversion to whatever it was that I was trying to sell them on in the first place. It's happened with movies, books, songs - even my totally amazing not to be believed tabbouleh salad, which now makes everyone roll their eyes when I approach the table with my big Moroccan bowl. It's a special power I posses that I haven't yet figured out how to use for good and not evil.

Which is why I don't dare say how wonderful Autism: The Musical, a documentary debuting tonight on HBO, really is. I don't want to do my usual over selling by urging you to make sure and watch this amazing story of Elaine Hall, the single mother of an autistic child who is determined to put on a musical comprised entirely of children with autism and who succeeds with flying colors. So don't listen to me when I tell you that you must watch this heartbreaking, heartwarming, funny, sad, enlightening and brutally honest program tonight, even if means skipping your pilates class or - gasp - missing American Idol.

And I won't even try and convince you further by telling you that I went to a screening of the film and saw a live performance by the talented kids from the show and they really are that amazing, even in that spontaneous setting. And don't let me influence you by telling you how I cried through practically the entire movie and performance and even saw Kevin Charnas, who was sitting next to me, dab at a moist eye.

Because really, I don't want to jinx it. But if you watch it I promise never to mention "Juno" again.

AUTISM: THE MUSICAL premieres tonight on HBO at 8pm

(For those of you without HBO, they will be live-streaming it on their website.)

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Saturday, March 22, 2008

Is That a Pastrami Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

I love food. Eating it, cooking it, watching it being prepared, shopping for it - why, Rigel sometimes accuses me of being more excited to see a steak than I am about seeing him. I told him that's totally untrue, that I'm always happy to see him but would be freakin' ecstatic if he were laying sizzling on a plate, covered in a nice peppercorn sauce and accompanied by some garlicky mashed potatoes.

But while I certainly appreciate a fine meal, there's nothing like sitting down with an amazing burger, beautifully nestled in its grease-stained cardboard box and holding court next to a nine-thousand-calorie chocolate shake. Which is why I decided to write about my five favorite dives in Los Angeles for Kango this week. Also, it gave me another chance to take a dig at Trout Lady:

Here’s something to do when you’re stuck dining with one of those unbelievably obnoxious “foodies” who not only finds it necessary to “teach” you the correct pronunciation of each item on the menu but then insists on giving you a breakdown of every ingredient in all the dishes, from the gruyére to the légumes.

I like to pose a question to all the guests, who, like me are now practically comatose from the yammerings of our food-nut. What is your favorite dive in town? Where would you go if what you were craving wasn’t a fine fricassée with a nice cabernet but a greasy taco and a wax cup full of Coke? I like to watch everyone come to life as they regale their tablemates with tales of legendary double-decker burgers and homestyle empanadas. Then I like to watch our pretentious friend fume over our lowbrow conversation...Read More...

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