More Bad Food. El Atacor #11

I read a delicious review in the LA Weekly about a taco place in MY neighborhood. my neighborhood, how cool. It claimed this place had a delicious "porno" burrito and amazing potato tacos. Who could deny themselves a tasty and more importantly, recommended potato taco? Not me.

I checked it out on a Saturday afternoon. Famished. Haven't eaten all day kind of hunger. A potato taco kind of day. The place was empty, save for a couple of regulars from the 'hood. I ordered what I read about in the Weekly. The aforementioned taco and out of curiosity, that porno burrito. Yeah, it's a lot of food, but I am an investigative blogger. It's my duty.

Got home with my bag of booty. Opened up the styrofoam packages and ... ugh.

First the burrito. Stupid. It's just two flour tortillas stuffed with flavorless chicken and an assemblance of what looked like what's left in my garbage disposal after a round of doing dishes. Vegetative matter mixed with crema. That mexican sour cream. What a disappointment. Is there a decent burrito in this town? Of the $3 variety? I'm beginning to think not.


And those potato taco's? Greasy devils, all of them. Not. Satisfying. At. All. Trashcan fodder.


Further insult would be the "chips and salsa picante" that was included with each order. By the taste of the picante, it had turned somewhere back near Y2k.

Not delicious.

Open Letter To India Sweets & Spices

Hello India Sweets & Spices Los Feliz location,

Thanks for the sub par dining experience. Next time I want to be mocked and served garbage, I will most certainly turn to you.

Upon entering the eatery, one orders food from the guy behind the register (if he's there) and then you proceed to the hot dish/steam table area. Sound simple? Not at this establishment, particularly for first-timers. For the uninitiated, the specialty of the house is mock; a dish best served cold.

Above the register is oversized signage stating three dining choices. Combo's 1 through 3. I had an idea of what I wanted - would the Gods' be so kind as to include my craving among these three choices or is ala carte an option? The combo options swirl with choices ... raita, golub, abu garab ... do they have mango chutney, i wonder.

I inquire with the gent behind the counter who looks at me and sarcastically says, "First time here?" scoff, scoff. Well no, it's my second time but WTF, can I order some indian food or not? He stares at me. I'm on my own here. When faced with three choices, I go for the middle, so it's #2 combo for me. mistake.

I head to the steam table and point to a couple of vegetarian options ... tofu? yeah, I'll take it ... no dal? no spinach? (are you kidding me?) ... um, that over there ... I point to some other beanish looking dish. It's around this time that I realize garlic naan isn't going to happen tonight. And so it goes. Literally, as I asked for it to go.

Once back at my apartment I attempt to enjoy what should have been a delicious experience, except for the discovery that #2 combo means "mouth on fire" in Indian.

Thanks for the padadams. Those little crackers were about all I could eat out of the swill you bastards served me that night.

F-You Indian Sweets and Spices. And F-You Los Feliz east side hipsters hanging out at the Big Foot Lodge next door. I could barely pull out of the parking lot onto busy Los Feliz Boulevard because of your droll asses blocking the sidewalk.

Thanks for nothing.

Love,
Lysette

Bon Anniversaire

This is the 222nd day of the year, with 143 days remaining in 2006.

August 10th has always been a stand-out date in my life. I was about to say an important date, but it's more like August 10th for me has a bunch of coincidences tied to it ... stuff like birthdays of people I have known, men I have dated, the drunk a-hole that stole my Mustang - his birthday was August 10, and it is the fateful date that I boarded a rented U-Haul and moved my ass to Los Angeles Lost Angeles. That was August 10, 1994. It's been twelve years today. I arrived with my two cats around 2:am absolutely fried. I will never forget it.

I should have went to Paris that fall. I had just started receiving my first residuals from my first commercial and the world was my oyster. I think it was slight confusion or a desperate need for change, but instead of a european sojourn, I moved my life. I have to believe that is how it was meant to be. But damn, the chaos started with the packing and hasn't really calmed down since. (well ... perhaps it has a little.)

I have always said I haven't experienced one day of joy here and I know that is a powerful statement, but it's true. Los Angeles is gross. Cool enough to visit, but come on, this place is one big trailer park. Everyone is just trying in varying degrees to get their somethin' using the lowest of methodologies. I have had to elbow and kickbox my way to an $800 dollar per month apartment in the 'hood and drive a $300 dollar car. And I am one of life's winners. I am one of the lucky one's. I have it so good.

When I reflect on Los Angeles I know it to be an uncivilized, tacky, unaware city that lacks soul. But yeah, I'll be buying a house here soon enough. Planting those roots, making a life. (I kid.)

I probably will buy a house in Pasadena though. I heart Pasadena. I love the Rose Bowl and the big game on New Years Day. I always enjoyed the Hollywood Bowl too, but only with box seats. I will leave out the rant about the parking / getting there / leaving there, because the Bowl experience is so quintessential Los Angeles and the hassle out front is part of it. It is what it is.

We have access to a lot of stuff here. We are in close proximity to a lot of fun places to go to like everything up and down the coast - Mendocino (shout out to Oprah!), Santa Barbara (SO money and La Super Rica for tacos), and every quaint little beach town on the way to San Diego, Viva Las Vegas, Hasta Mexico, rain and coffee in Seattle ... it's all within arm's reach. I have had my kicks here. I make it what I can when I can, but if I am going to be honest, I have to say this place radiates disappointment.

Nonetheless, I consider August 10th one of my lucky days ... and August 11th too. What terrific things will this day bring? What fabulocity will meet me tomorrow? I should buy a lottery ticket. It's like that.

August 10, 2006 - unfortunately, today I am sharing my lucky day with color-coded behavior warnings and thwarted terror plots. Perhaps I will share my thoughts on this another day. I have been getting bulletins on My Space with questioners questioning the validity of this latest Red Level Terror Alert. Is it staged? Part of the theater of war? All the better to validate more hostility to those oil rich countries. There are probably a lot of people blogging about this latest fright, so I will leave my two cents for another day.

I strongly believe I know everything happens for a reason, nothing is by chance, there are no coincidences - so I understand that the experiences I have had and the lessons I have learned the past twelve years are to be embraced. I thought my Los Angeles experience was going to be about lights, camera, action and perhaps that is still in the forecast, but for those of you that know, I have done some things here.

I have endured.
I have manifested.
I have moved around a lot.
I have loved.
I have saved / altered / irrevocably assisted a life or two.
I have made terrific friendships that I treasure.
I have volunteered.
I have learned to let go.
I have learned to connect the dots.
I have a deeper appreciation for the big picture.
And I know I got the Power.

If you have made it this far, whew ... I owe you a cafe au lait or refreshment of your choice. Because this is LA, we'll say we will get together this Saturday, but the reality is it will be six months from now, if ever. That's life in SoCal. It isn't on purpose. That's just how we do.

Happy Anniversary August 10th.
Je suis pret a commencer mon ensuite chapitre.

This Blog Hath No Purpose Nor Focus

Ho Hum. It's Monday and I am sleepy.

I need about two hours at the gym and a good nap to feel reinvigorated. Instead I am cubegrrrl with an eye toward the 5 o'clock hour.

Not that I don't love it here ... where I am. It's all A to the G, but you know like I said, I'm sleepy.






*yawn*

Maybe I need a get-a-way ... one of those quickie two day excusions somewhere close but feels worlds away. Come back with a renewed sense of motivation. I have been thinking about Tahoe lately ... North Shore. mmmm, time for a trip?

or not.

Life in the 'hood is so transcendent. It's like I am in another country anyway. Don't get me started about this past Saturday Night's get-down next door, complete with port-a-potties and a Karaoke soundsystem, lighting, et al. Involuntarily, my apartment feels like a nightclub. I am of it as much as the hoodrats invited guests.

Carne Asada optional. Mine with tofu please.