Archive for the ‘Don’t Get Me Started’ Category

Your Hostess, Fastidious J

June 8th, 2006 by Julie Silver

Today I had a whole conversation with Sarah Baker about salad and salad-dressing, and how difficult it is to ask for dressing on the side but how lousy it is to have a salad drowning in dressing because you didn't want to go through the difficulty of tossing it at your table. Something to think about.


Matchmaker, Matchmaker

June 6th, 2006 by Julie Silver

The other day, Garber and I were sitting at Peet's, drinking our daily cup of Josefina, nibbling (fighting over) a cardemon infused blueberry scone, gazing at (declaring ownership of) assorted crossword puzzles that lay before us, each in our own way thanking our lucky stars (and Mary) that we are able to have these relaxing, sunny moments as often as we do, when a stranger approached. Within moments we were fortunate to make a new friend: April Beyer. April is a professional matchmaker. She also has a very sweet dog, Bella.  As the conversation continued, my mind wandered back to the Crossroads School Production of Fiddler on the Roof in May of 2005, when Henry Connelly gave us a stellar rendition of Motel the Tailor. I wept through most of it…most hardcore Paul Michael Glaser fans do. April primarily works with men seeking lovely ladies, so if you're single and you want to mingle, check her out. Or you could do it the old fashioned way. Join Revolution Spinning.

April Beyer does great work matching people up with her clients. Check her out at

To rent Fiddler on the Roof, go to netflix

Meet the future President(s)…

June 3rd, 2006 by Julie Silver

Hilary, Mary, and Sarah E. One or more of these ladies may end up in the WHITE HOUSE, yo! Let's hope it's the one on their FAR LEFT!!


Post Yoga Stress Disorder

June 1st, 2006 by Julie Silver

I was just in line at my favorite cafe on Montana, La Dolce Vita, waiting to order an iced chai tea latte, when all hell broke loose.

A young woman was waiting for her order, a tuna sandwich and a toasted plain bagel with cream cheese, when she noticed the parking violations truck pull up alongside her Jeep. Flip flops flapping, she ran out the door, dropping her yoga mat on the way, but arrived at her illegally parked car just two seconds too late. The ticket was being written! The fact that she had parked her car in the RED ZONE and not at a meter didn’t seem to matter to her as she cursed at the parking officer, came back to the cafe, rolled up her yoga mat and ranted on about how “fucked up” it was that she was being given a ticket. Clearly, her namastee had been severely harshed.

(As an aside, the tickets for parking in the red zone are huge. You’re essentially parking in the most important spot on the street in case of emergency. It’s one thing to let your meter expire, but it’s another to park in the RED ZONE.)

Meanwhile, she started in on the poor guy behind the counter. “Where’s my sandwich? It’s taking too long!” As if the guy at the cash register should offer to pay her parking ticket. I can only imagine what would have happened to this woman had she NOT just attended Yoga class.

Try the Iced Chai Tea Lattes with vanilla–as Garber would say, they’re “Yumbo!”

Cell Phones and Mascara

June 1st, 2006 by Julie Silver

People in Santa Monica drive like they’re talking on cell phones and applying mascara. Wait a minute. They ARE talking on cell phones and applying mascara. Just walk down Montana Avenue any time of day. People do not pay attention to the road signs, to pedestrians, to other drivers. And the worst, the absolute worst, is walking on the South side of San Vicente and heading WEST toward the water. NO ONE looks to the right before turning right onto the street. Drivers just do not care. The road is packed with skinny, lycra clad racing bikers who need only to be tapped by a Razor Scooter to get thrown off their bikes, and no one drives the speed limit.

I used to think I had rights as a pedestrian. When there was a stop sign or a red light, I could cross with ease and know that drivers would obey the law. Forget about it. In my early years as a Santa Monica resident, finding out the hard way how people choose to just breeze through the stop signs, I would wave my arms and yell, “Hello!! I’m crossing!!. That didn’t do anything because everyone’s on a cellphone and/or applying mascara. Even the women. They are shocked to learn after the fact that a pedestrian was waiting to cross. And you know how those pedestrians just come out of nowhere.

So now, I just stand there watching drivers completely blow through the stop signs, turn right onto San Vicente, and when they invariably notice me standing there with a disappointed look on my face, pointing to the stop sign and motioning to them “WHY?”, I see a glimpse of a brake light and a “deer in the headlights” look in their rearview mirror. Look both ways before crossing the street used to be something you learned as a kid, and then applied it to driving as you got older. Clearly, cracking down on drivers who roll through stop signs and turn right on red with no regard for pedestrians is in order.