Spent New Year’s Eve eating, drinking, and hanging out with friends. It was a good time, and a really fun way to spend the night. I finally got to break in the S’mores Maker my sister got me for Hanukkah and managed to win a round of Trivial Pursuit Pop Culture edition. To end the night, we watched the downtown LA fireworks from my balcony. Kinda cool. Now I’m down in SD with the family and watching my dad yell at the television as he prays for Michigan to win the game.

For those of you wondering, I’m here. The Worst Migraine Of My Life made an encore appearance Saturday and I spent four hours that night at the Scripps emergency room in Encinitas. Blood tests, a CT scan, and some Vicodin later (and an MRI planned for Wednesday), I am finally headache-free and will be heading back to LA mid-week.

—In other news, tonight is Who’s Your Daddy and you better believe I’ll be watching it. Did I mention my sister worked on the show? Yes, you may direct all your comments to her.—In other television news, I think I love The 5th Wheel as much as Cheaters. Is that horrible or what?—And in totally unrelated news, I plan on meeting the latest Jdate guy, The Comic, sometime this week. Keep those fingers crossed.

I finally got to try the Magnolia Bakery cupcake recipe.

Yum. Just like the store.

Ever had an MRI? It’s not fun. In fact, it sucks. Here’s how mine went.

Woke up along with the sun and got to the MRI imaging place bright and early. Removed my watch and hair clip and laid down on the table. The tech explained how the scanner works, showed me the little window-mirror thing on the top, asked me what kind of music (who knew?) I wanted to listen to, and we were off.

Dozens of series of clicks, taps, and thumps later, and I think I’m close to being done. But no, that would be too easy. Instead, the technician tells me they’re bringing me out and asks if I have wet hair. Wet hair? Uh no, I didn’t even wash it this morning. The techs look puzzled and back in to the tube-like machine I go. We start from the beginning again, and again they pull me back out. Apparently the films look “blurry” so they reboot the machine and try again. More clicks, taps, and thumps. And more blurry films.

“We’re sorry, the coil isn’t working properly and we have to call the technician. We can’t do brains right now, only extremities.” Lucky me.

So, 20 miles and a few hours later, I go to another facility and have the scan done (sans music) successfully. The best part? Everything is normal. Diagnosis: atypical migraine.

I just read over at Annabel Lee’s blog that I have been nominated for a JIB (Jewish/Israeli Blog) award in the Best Personal Blog category. Many thanks to whomever nominated me and congratulations to Annabel Lee for her nomination as well!

Do you download music using a pay site like iTunes or a peer-to-peer application like LimeWire? And why?

Due to overwhelming request (okay, three people), here is the Magnolia vanilla cupcake recipe. You’re welcome.

This afternoon, I received this email from my company’s President/CEO:

Due to adverse weather conditions, the office will close at 4:30 PM today with the exception of one person in each department to handle phones until 5:00 PM. Drive carefully!*

*The adverse weather conditions he’s referring to? Rain. It’s true, life in Los Angeles pretty much comes to a screeching halt when it rains.

The plan:

1. Wake up around 11:00.
2. Throw some laundry in the machines in the garage.
3. Call the bowling alley to make lane reservations for me and my Little.
4. Take Little bowling.

What has happened thus far:

1. Woke up at 10:30 to the sounds of my building owner pounding on my door screaming, “Hilary are you there?”. Turns out our garage is flooding because a sewer drain on the main street is full, causing the sewer water to backup into our garage (gross). There’s been so much rain and there is nowhere for the rain water to go. In fact, it is shooting out of the manhole cover on the main street. So, needless to say, I just saw all of my neighbors in their pajamas as I moved my car out of the garage and onto the street. Ugh.
2. No laundry as the laundry room is in the flooded garage.
3. Called the nice, newly remodeled bowling alley and was told they only take reservations up to 48 hours in advance. Now we have to go the yucky bowling alley instead.
4. TBD. Cross those fingers.

When I was a kid, someone told me that rain was God crying. Who the hell pissed him off so much? Go apologize. Now!

And yes, today did in fact suck. The parking garage is still flooded because it hasn’t stopped raining in three days. To make things worse, my only pair of clean jeans (can’t do laundry, remember) are soaked at the bottom, I slipped and fell on an escalator, then had to wait 30 minutes to exit a stupid parking garage. I’m annoyed.

A game called Reverse. And yes, it’s frustrating.

Good news: I can park in the garage (at my own risk).
Bad news: It smells really, really gross. Sewer water, remember?

Good news: I did my laundry (at a laundromat).
Bad news: A man who smelled as bad as the garage sat next to me during the spin cycle.

Good news: Las Vegas is on tonight.
Bad news: This season sucks. But I still heart Josh.

Good news: Tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of rain (for a while).
Bad news: No more getting out of work early.

Good news: My neighbor’s psycho ex-girlfriend hasn’t come by to scream at him since the returning of stuff episode.
Bad news: His next door neighbor (who apparently is never home) got a puppy who has been crying every night for the past week.

Good news: I’m meeting The Comic on Wednesday.
Bad news: Come on, he’s a Jdate guy. There’s bound to be some bad news.

Yes folks, we have sun. After 15 consecutive days of rain, the sky is now blue and the sun is shining bright.

In other news, The Comic called last night. Wednesday’s date has been rescheduled tentatively to Thursday. Not good. At least it stopped raining and I didn’t have to deal with this boulder during my commute.

Yesterday Afternoon
Jdate Guy: hi
Me: [Hilary] has declined to respond to your email sent 1/10/2005 1:09:54 PM (That’s the generic Jdate decline that is reserved for men old enough to be my father, men who send only their phone number, and men who send emails that don’t contain at least one complete sentence.)

Later in the Afternoon
Jdate Guy: you are gross
Me: Because I sent you a decline?

Last Night
Jdate Guy (this email is actually IMs that I didn’t get–Jdate emails the user missed IMs): 1/10/2005 10:46 PM - what your problem
1/10/2005 10:46 PM - you are gross
1/10/2005 10:46 PM - looking
Me: YOU emailed me.
Jdate Guy: [Jdate Guy] has declined to respond to your message sent Jan 10 2005 10:47PM and is not accepting further messages at this time

My friend and I want to try fondue this weekend. Does anyone know of a good fondue place in LA? So far all I have found is La Fondue Bourguignonne in Sherman Oaks. Are there others or is this the best one?

A friend just sent me a link to an article (reg. req’d) and this incredible picture of the mudslide in La Conchita. So scary. And so sad.

Some very interesting searches that landed people here:

• can you somehow erase someone from your memory?
• jdate is a bust
• should i wish my ex-girlfriend a happy new year
• hilary how long have you been going out with your boyfriend
• neil patrick harris hairy chest
• jdate pimping
• bored people in los angeles
• edwards superfluous nipple

How did you get here?

I’m officially addicted to my TiVo–I bought another DirecTV TiVo receiver, this time for my bedroom. It’s being hooked up Saturday. I heart TiVo.

In other news, I’m meeting The Comic tonight. Hopefully good details to follow.

And in totally unrelated to TiVo or The Comic news, our garage still has stinky sewer water in it. For the past five days, there have been huge trucks in the middle of my street pumping gunk out of the sewer lines. I had no idea there was that much stuff clogging up the system. Gross.

And lastly, thanks for all of your fondue-related help. We’re going to try La Fondue Bourguignonne. I’ll let you know how it is.

Some background: While speaking on the phone, The Comic mentioned about a dozen times that he was nervous about our date, as he just recently signed up for Jdate and I was to be the first person he’d meet. He asked if I’d mind meeting for a cocktail rather than coffee. No problem here.

We decided on a bar on the other side of the hill (he’s an 818-er) which ended up being a really cool place. He immediately looked relieved that I did in fact look like my picture and complimented me on my hair.

Some of the too much information I learned over cocktails:

• The reason for his nervousness was because his roommate had experienced his very own Jdate horror story so he was expecting the worst.
• He has a twice divorced ex-girlfriend with two kids. When they broke up they called the cops on each other.
• He smokes (gross) but is planning to quit next week.

After two rounds, it was way past my bedtime and we headed out. He gave me a hug then asked if I’d like to get together possibly Sunday and to please call him when I got home to let him know I arrived safely (awww). I called him, he again said he had a really nice time, and we decided we’d chat this weekend. He then mentioned he had emailed me. Already?! He wrote that had a nice time, etc. and apologized for talking so much, and said it was because he was so nervous.

So…he’s a nice guy. (I know, kiss of death.) Was it love at first sight? No. Will I go out with him again? Yes mom.

I think this one speaks for itself:

Him: In the Town infatuated with the Worldwide Model, I am, a member of the tribe, who is not less than the Model of the Week, on the LA Number ONE — MALE MODEL WEBSITE — Los Angles Exotics Men!
Me: Huh?
Him: I am the Guy Of The Week in L.A. right now … [Ed. Note: Click link for more, uh, information.]
Me: Congratulations. Please don’t email me anymore.

What. The. Hell.

Yum! La Fondue Bourguignonne was delicious! The place was packed, but we had a reservation so we were seated right away. We quickly ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir* and chose which main course (chicken, scallops, shrimp, or beef) we each wanted. The prix fix menu, which is the only menu available on Saturdays, consists of four courses. First course was bread dipped in cheese. Next a salad. For the main course, you get a plate of dipping sauces and raw meat and veggies which you cook in either a wine broth or oil. (We chose the wine broth.) Lastly, dessert was a big plate of fresh fruit, marshmallows, and cookies that we dipped in chocolate. It is a bit pricey, but well worth the money. I can’t wait to go back.

On a side note: I drove through Laurel Canyon last night on my way to the restaurant. The road is still wet and part of it is closed. I passed the house that collapsed, and it looked eerily like a home affected by the Northridge earthquake in ‘94. By the way, tomorrow’s the anniversary of the quake.

*No, I have not seen Sideways.

This is an exchange I had last week with my doctor. Keep in mind I’ve been his patient for years.

Dr.: Are you planning on getting pregnant anytime soon?
Me: Uh, no. That would be a miracle, given my current singular status.
Dr.: Where’s your office?
Me: Century City.
Dr.: There should be a lot of available Jewish attorneys around there.
Me: Um, thanks mom.

A notice from your apartment building manager posted in the common areas of the building is printed on the back of a script.

This time, in Los Angeles. Yep, Bethany’s back from New York and she and a friend are looking for a two bedroom/two bath place on the Westside. If you know of any apartments for less than $1800 in the WLA/Brentwood area, please leave a note in the comments. Thank you.

Dear JJ’s Psycho (Ex?)-Girlfriend,

Was it really necessary to sit on your (ex)-boyfriend’s balcony and scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs while pounding on his door at three in the morning? Not only is that rude and inconsiderate to the rest of Hollywood, but it’s, hmm, how shall I put it? Fucking pyscho.

What part of the returning of stuff last month did you not get?

Pretty soon, the non-emergency police dispatch people and I are going to be on a first name basis. I wasn’t at all surprised when the dispatcher told me I was the third person within ten minutes to report you and your stupid antics.

Please. I beg you. Leave JJ alone. And let me get some sleep tonight.

Sincerely Pissed off and tired,

Hilary

The Comic did this really weird thing on Tuesday and used this invention known as the telephone to call me to make plans for Saturday night. (Read: He called. Not emailed. Not IMd. Not text messaged.) I believe we’re going bowling. Details to follow.

And in other strange news, last night I received a voicemail at home from a man calling my number collect from the California prison system.

In happier news, I went to the mall last night and got a jacket at Express that was marked down from $169 to $49. I already have the Editor Pants that go with the jacket, so now I have a complete suit. Yay me.

Has anyone else seen My Super Sweet 16 on MTV? I don’t really know what to say about it except for this: Um, can we say spoiled?

I completely forgot to mention this in my fondue post, but during the first course of cheese and bread, they also gave us a little bowl of pickles. They’re tiny little pickles, like the kind that come in a can (similar to the ones sold at Israeli markets), not in a jar. Anyone know why they serve pickles with the bread and cheese?

And finally, a special note to whomever found my blog by searching for weight watcher points for magnolia bakery: You don’t want to know.

On my way from the kettle corn line to the tamale line at the Century City farmer’s market, I felt someone’s eyes on me. As I queued up for a tamale, the eyes got in line behind me and a conversation began:

Him: (In Hebrew) Do you speak Hebrew?
Me: Nope.
Him: Oh. (Points to my Jewish star around my neck.) Is that from Israel?
Me: No. My parents bought it for me here.
Him: You look soooooooooo Jewish.
Me: Hmm.
Him: You look like a typical Israeli. [ed. note: Is this a good or bad thing?] I’m from Israel. I’ve been here only three months.
Me: Ah. (At this point I’m buying my tamale.)
Him: What do you do for work?
Me: I’m a writer.
Him: I’m an attorney.

The conversation ended a few minutes later, after he handed me his business card. Unfortunately, there is no interest on my part. I have to point out how strange it is that I met a Jewish attorney in Century City less than a week after my doctor brought up that exact subject.

The Comic just called to firm up plans for tonight’s date and we shared the following conversation:

The Comic: Just so you know, I’m finishing up my last pack [of cigarettes] right now and will be on the patch tonight so I’ll be chewing a lot of gum.
Me: Hmm. Okay.
The Comic: Oh, and my passenger door is broken so you have to go in Dukes of Hazard style or climb over from the driver’s side.
Me: Uhh, I don’t climb through windows. [ed. note: What the hell?] I’ll climb over.
The Comic: Okay, just make sure you don’t hit your head on the mirror.
Me: I’m a klutz, I probably will. When did the door break?
The Comic: I busted it when I locked myself out and tried to break in last August.
Yeah. Should be an interesting night.

*No JAB, you’re not going crazy. I wrote this post on Saturday but Blogger ate half of it and posted it on Sunday.

After six phone calls, all very similar in dialogue, regarding our plans for the evening (bowling and perhaps video games* at Jillian’s**), I knew I just didn’t want this date to happen. I began thinking of excuses to cancel then was finally convinced (thanks mom) to just go and make the most of it. I offered to meet him at his place since he lives in the Valley and Jillian’s is on that side of the hill. This is where it begins to get interesting.

Weird Part Number One: I arrived at The Comic’s apartment and snooped around a bit. He mentioned that since his roommates weren’t home, he’d been able to pick up the place. There was lots of stuff in the living room which he said belonged to his roommates. I noticed there was only one bedroom, and asked where the roommates sleep. As it turns out, the male roommate sleeps on the couch and the female roommate, when she’s in town, crashes in the bed with him. Ummm. Rewind. Yep, I heard him correctly. What the hell?

Weird Part Number Two: We walked up to the counter to purchase tokens for the video games and the first words out of his mouth, directed toward the counterperson were, “I’m a gamer.” Okay, first of all, is that something you broadcast on your date and secondly, does the girl at the counter even care? Apparently he must have gotten something for free using that line before, because he felt the need to say it to every person we came in contact with.

Weird Part Number Three: Bowling? We never went bowling. He decided he was in the mood to play video games and didn’t want to bowl because bowling reminded him of smoking, which he had just quit oh, five hours ago. Plus, the lanes were closed for a private party.

So, Six Phone Calls In Six Hours + Weird Part Number One + Weird Part Number Two + Weird Part Number Three = Total Frustration and Removal of Jdate Profile. Temporarily, of course. I wouldn’t want my readers to be bored.

*He works in the video game industry.
**I hate, hate, hate, Citywalk.

As you know, my blog (along with many other blogs I read) was nominated for a Jewish & Israeli Blog (JIB) award in the Best Personal Blog category. There were so many nominations that the category were broken down into two groups–I’m in Group B. The polls are now open so go vote! Remember, you can vote once a day every 24 hours.

Screw my give-every-guy-three-dates-rule. I’m not going out with The Comic again. He already called me the afternoon after our second date and left a voicemail saying he hopes we can get together this coming weekend. There is absolutely no interest on my part, so I don’t want to go out again. Men, help me out here. What do I say? Is honesty really the best policy?

Last April, my friend and I attended another friend’s show at a local comedy place. When I walked in, I recognized the headliner–he was the first comic I ever dated. I hadn’t talked to him in years, so we caught up very briefly at the end of the show. At that time, nothing new was going on with either of us. Well, yesterday I came across his email address and wrote him to say hi and see if anything was new and exciting. His answer?

A little new and exciting…Got married, having a baby
in 2 weeks….a boy.

(ok, actually a LOT new and exciting!)

Still trying to get the sitcom pilot made and get an
agent…it’s an uphill battle.

You?

Me? Uhhh.

This Friday at noon, when supposedly hundreds of radio stations will be broadcasting We Are The World, I will be in my own personal hell. The song brings back a childhood memory that to this day, still makes me cringe.

When I was 11-years-old, my parents came up with the fabulous idea of moving our very happy and content family from a very familiar suburb of Detroit to an unfamiliar beach city in San Diego. I, being a popular and well-adjusted fifth grader, did not want to move. However, being a child, I didn’t have any say in that decision.

So, on my first day of sixth grade in San Diego, in an attempt to be cool and fit in with the other kids, I decided to wear something that was very fashionable and in style in Detroit–a pair of loud print shorts and a t-shirt that read We Are The World. This was the mid-80s, and the song was at the height of its popularity. And so was the fashion. At least in Detroit. Apparently not so much in San Diego.

I quickly became known as the We Are The World kid, and for months, everywhere I went at school, kids would point at me and sing portions of the song. It was mortifying. It was bad enough being the new kid in elementary school with a Midwest accent who said pop instead of soda; I didn’t need to be made fun of because of a t-shirt. Sadly, the teasing endured for the entire semester. Fortunately, due to reasons totally unrelated to the mockery, I, along with another new student, were transferred to the other local elementary school for the second semester. That’s when life in California began looking up.

I’d like to say the tormenting taught me how to be stronger or stick up for myself. But I don’t know if that would be true. What it did teach me is that tears can, at least for an 11-year-old, seem never-ending and that kids can be horribly cruel.

Drew passed this meme* to me so here are my answers:

1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer?
Almost a gig. Sadly, that includes music that can be heard on Radio Disney thanks to my Little.

2. The CD you last bought is:
Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day.

3. What is the song you last listened to before reading this message?
I Wish I Could Go Back To College from the Avenue Q soundtrack.

4. Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you:
American Pie by Don McLean
Barrel of a Gun by Guster
Fall At Your Feet by Crowded House
Next Big Thing by Material Issue
The Stranger by Billy Joel

5. Who are you going to pass this stick to? (3 persons) and why?
Jen at Her Own Invention because she’s always posting great lyrics.
Erin at Erin-go-blog because I know she’s huge into music.
Ellison at What Ellison Drinks because I enjoy his posts about things other than liquids.

*New vocab word for me. For a definition, check out Drew’s post.

For those of you wondering, The Comic left me messages on Sunday and Monday. I called him back Tuesday evening and left a message asking him to call me back. I haven’t heard back from him. I wonder if he found my blog.

My friends and coworkers are going to drive me to put my profile back up on Jdate–they all claim my Jdates provide vital entertainment for them. Hmm. I will not put my profile back. I will not put my profile back.

Regarding shirts that have built in camisoles–why can’t the camisole be attached to the outside shirt via the side seam rather than just a tiny stitch at the shoulder? That would make it soooo much easier to put the damn thing on. Ladies, you know what I mean, right?

Is using the restroom then not washing your hands the new black? I keep seeing people at my office not washing. Gross.

Last weekend my Little and I joined other Littles and Big Brothers/Big Sisters and participated in the Soaring Dreams program. We painted long panels of a special material that will be installed on a blimp which will fly all over the country, and even make an appearance over Dodger Stadium during their home opener. How cool is that?

And lastly, a shameless plug. Don’t forget that my blog is up for JIB’s Best Personal Blog (Group B), so go vote!

After a long and unexpected hiatus, Ask Hil’s Mom is back. (Ready mom?) Have a question for my mom? Post it in the comments or send it to me.

I’ve succumb to the pressure and started a 100 Things About Me list like all the cool kids are doing. It’s not complete yet, but you can check it out anyway. All done! Enjoy.

Last night I attended the annual Jewish Big Brothers Big Sisters dinner and auction gala at the Beverly Hilton emceed by Brad Garrett of Everybody Loves Raymond. There were two honorees–a very generous volunteer/mentor in the community as well as a Big Brother (he and his Little have been matched for eight years).

The party was beautiful and so much fun! There were amazing items (art work, jewelry, cruises, a Segwey, etc.) auctioned off and a ton of money was raised for the organization. And of course, there was lots of wine, dinner, a band, and dancing.

I was (surprisingly) seated at a table filled with generous donors and board members and their families rather than at a table with other Bigs. The board members were so excited to finally meet an actual Big Sister and asked tons of questions about my Little and our outings. I was thrilled to give them all the details! They even got to see a picture of the two of us when our photo displayed on the huge screen in the room. Nothing like seeing a picture of yourself that just about spans a wall.

I’m so glad I went to the party and am looking forward to becoming more involved with such an incredible organization. It really was a wonderful evening.