Whaddaya think? Yea or nay?
I know people who are suspicious of carnivals. Their fears aren’t unwarranted; I remember news reports of people getting flung from rides that they thought they were securely locked into. Those reports are what gave me the idea for a series of special reports, the best one of which would be “Texas Carnival of Death 3.” Naturally, it would be aired by Fox.
I, however, love carnivals. Last night Mr. Sandwich and I went over to the local park, where a carnival has been set up. Our first stop? The Tilt-a-Whirl, naturally. As Mr. Sandwich said, “We’re not going to miss the Tilt-a-Whirl. You talk about it incessantly.” Seriously, I love carnivals.
So we buy tickets and then get in line for the ride. As we’re standing there, we notice that (a) the little girl in the cute red coat with leopard collar and cuffs keeps trying to sneak in front of us, and (b) the cars on the Tilt-a-Whirl seems to spin rather enthusiastically.
Our turn comes, and we pick out a car. The first thing I notice is that this Tilt-a-Whirl is not adorned with clown heads. I think every other one I’ve ridden has had clown heads. Normally I suffer from coulrophobia (shut up! a lot of people do!), but clown heads never bother me on the Tilt-a-Whirl. That’s how much I love this ride.
The next thing we notice is that the bar on our car does not lock in place. (We would never make it into the televised special, because we’re not in Texas.)
The ride begins to turn, and we quickly learn that our car doesn’t just spin enthusiastically. It spins intensely. So intensely that my glasses get pushed up a little, and I’m reasonably sure that if Mr. Sandwich hadn’t had his arm around my shoulders (Lifelong dream: carnival rides with a boy who likes me. Mission accomplished!), I might have gotten whiplash. In all my years of riding Tilt-a-Whirls, I’ve never been on one that made me spinny, particularly when I wasn’t even leaning to increase the rotation.
At the end, we literally staggered off of the ride and down the short fairway, eliminating rides that looked awesome, but, in Mr. Sandwich’s words, were “too kinetic.” Ultimately we rode the Ferris wheel to see what we could see (lights in the hills, but on the whole not that much–it wasn’t that big a wheel). And in the process, we got really cold. So we gave our remaining tickets to a father and daughter pair, and headed home.
Because carnivals are awesome, but so is our couch.
I know people who love Ikea. I don’t get it. The store is an endless warehouse with staff organization that makes no sense, the merchandise is adequate for the price but not really good quality, and it takes an insane amount of time to buy what you came for.
We needed a new faucet for our sink. The only one we could find that worked with the sink was at–you guessed it–Ikea. Possibly because that’s where the sink came from.
So off to Ikea we went. First of all, it’s in the incredibly soulless “revitalized” part of Burbank. And then you can only get into the parking lot from one direction, which may ease traffic flow on the street in front of Ikea, but really doesn’t make it easy to park.
We found the faucet pretty quickly, in one of the displays. The tag said we needed to go to the Bedroom section. After winding our way through Living Rooms, Workspaces, and other similarly named areas, we got to the Bedroom section. This may sound vaguely pastoral, but that’s only because it doesn’t address the throngs of people drifting slowly and aimlessly around the store. (At least that’s what it seems like every time I go; maybe I just haven’t hit the magic “Ikea Pace.”)
Generally, when you go to Ikea, there are two ways to get your merchandise. You pick it up yourself in the showroom, or you go downstairs to the warehouse and pick it up there. Well, not if you want a faucet. In that case, you stand in line to have a sales rep put the order into the computer and hand you a piece of paper. Then you take the piece of paper through the rest of the store, go downstairs, and wind through all of the dishes and glasses and candles until you reach the warehouse, which is not any help to you because that’s not where your faucet is.
Finally, you reach a register and pay for everything. There, the clerk tells you to take the piece of paper and your receipt to the far end of the building so that someone there can give you your faucet.
Fifteen minutes later, you have a faucet. Why does it take the person at Will Call, or whatever it’s called, 15 minutes to find a faucet, when the order went into the computer an hour earlier?
No idea. A faucet, six plates, and a jar. Total time in the store? An hour and a half. Life’s too short.
Panos Char Broiler is a small divey place on the corner of Victory and Woodley in the Lake Balboa part of Van Nuys. And really, there’s only one thing to say about this Greek-food-and-hamburger-stand.
Best. Gyro. Ever.
Another meme! Actually, I got this one from a friend on Facebook–but having recently done 25 Random Things (although I shortened it a bit), I thought that might be overkill.
So here are my answers. To spread the joy, provide yours in your blog and link back, so that I can see what you wrote. I’m nosy that way.
Where is your cell phone ? in my bag
your hair ……….needs attention
Your father? ……..role model, mentor, and friend
Your favorite thing? ……….sitting in my living room . . . which I own!
Your dream last night?….so many dreams lately, can’t remember which were last night’s
Your dream/goal? ………. to finish writing a book
The room you are in? ….living room . . . which I own!
Your fear? ……… loss of loved ones
Where do you want to be in 6 years?….. that’s a tough one
One of your wish list items?………. go to Iceland
Where you grew up? ……….. various places
The last thing you did? …….danced in the back yard with Mr. Sandwich
What are you wearing?……brown slacks, pumpkin t-shirt, brown cardigan
Your TV?………. turned off due to re-runs
Your pets? ………. none so far
Your computer? ……. Mac
Your life? ……… is good right now.
Your mood? ……… sleepy
Missing someone? …… absent friends
Your car? ….Subaru Forester
Favorite store?….Martin & Osa
Your summer? ….. is too far away to imagine
Your favorite color? ……… blue
When is the last time you laughed? ……… can’t remember, but not that long ago
Last time you cried? ……… can’t remember, but longer
Three people who email me? ……. MP, AC, KO
Three of my favorite foods? …….. potatoes, ice cream, steak
Three places I would rather be right now? ….Rome, Kauai, Portland (Oregon)
Three people I think will respond? …. no idea
So I had to go downtown for jury duty this morning. This is an entire saga, and not a very interesting one, but the upside is that it’s much easier to use public transportation to get downtown from where we live now.
I get onto the Red Line (that’s the subway portion of L.A.’s public transportation system, for those of you not from here) and who gets on the train with me?
Captain Jack Sparrow.
He nodded to a couple of people and then left the train where I thought he would–Hollywood and Highland. Off to another day at Grauman’s Chinese Theater, taking pictures with tourists and then making them pay for the privilege.
Oh, well. It’s a living. And it’s probably more fun than jury duty. Especially when, at the last minute, they decide not to convene a jury.
So today we had friends over for a cookout. Hours later, it’s time for dinner, and we decide to grill some of the leftovers.
First, though, Mr. Sandwich is going for a run. He says, “Will you make me a sandwich?” and tells me how much turkey and cheese to put in it (this is not bossy; he makes his own sandwiches).
So I make him a sandwich and toast it, just as he likes.
And then I say, “I made you a sandwich.” And he says, “Thanks. That’ll save me time in the morning.”
Because it turns out that he didn’t want it toasted, so that he could eat it now. He wanted it assembled, so that he could toast it at work tomorrow.
But the story ends happily. Because I ate the sandwich.
Tonight we went to Las Fuentes. The restaurant has an unusual setup; you stand in line to order and pick up your food at the counter when your number is called. There are plenty of tables for people who want to eat in; those who are getting food to go just mill around by the counter.
Our summary: great to-go packaging. Food? Not what we’d hoped.
Mr. Sandwich had one of the “gringo-style” burritos that came with more ingredients than the menu suggested. I had a festival of tacos so that I could sample several options. Of them, I recommend the taco de carne con queso, which was flavorful and not dry.
On the other hand, the beans were quite good. I’m delighted to find more than one place that serves actual refritos, complete with cheese.
I also had a tamal dulce, because I cannot resist the allure of the sweet tamale. This isn’t bad, but I’m not sure it’s what I was looking for.
I suppose we might go back, but we’d definitely order different items.
And I still want to eat tacos off a truck.
Me: I want to eat tacos off of a truck. Is that crazy?
Mr. Sandwich: No. Not at all.
Me: It just seems like such a good idea.
Beeps is one of many cooked-to-order fast food places, not just in the Valley but in L.A. generally. The menu is enormous, with everything from hot dogs to burritos.
With that many options, naturally Mr. Sandwich and I each had a chili cheese dog, and split a large order of fries. The verdict? The chili cheese dog was okay, but not amazing (it could have used more chili, which I almost never say), and we should have ordered a smaller portion of fries. Why? The fries were quite good, but a large is enormous. We could have been happy splitting a smaller order–and I say this as someone who loves potatoes so much that she once gave them up for Lent. Mr. Sandwich found his chocolate shake to be quite creamy, and I enjoyed my black cherry shake–although again, I would have been happy with a smaller size.
Beeps also serves breakfast. Since I have yet to find a good breakfast diner, I’d go back and see how the pancakes are. Hmm . . . there’s a three-day weekend coming up . . .