Bookcation: Los Angeles Edition

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When I decided to take a trip to LA, I had a few basic plans. I wanted to see my friends, I wanted to wear sunglasses, I wanted to eat tacos, and obviously I wanted to go to Disneyland.

When my plane touched down, I had absolutely no other plans.

I didn’t know a single thing about the city beyond the fact that the Hollywood sign and the Walk of Fame exist. So when Lauren, my host and tour guide, started telling me about some bookstores in her neighborhood, our inevitable plan developed.

Skylight Books – Los Feliz

Skylight books has one of the greatest floor plans for a bookstore I’ve ever encountered. A skylight illuminates the middle of the large main room, and right beneath the skylight is an actual tree. Inside of the bookstore.

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I could live here.

I’m pretty sure this bookstore is also home to a cat, but it’s probably lucky that I didn’t encounter him, because if I had I definitely would have moved in for good. Cats + books + trees? Seriously?

(I should mention I also enjoyed their selection and table displays, but I have to admit I was little too overwhelmed by the general AWESOME ambience to do much browsing.)

Stories Books – Echo Park

Stories Books is COOL.Image

Like, it’s so cool it made me kind of nervous to be there. Maybe if I had been sitting in the cafe writing some poetry I would have felt more at ease. I kept feeling I was going to knock things over, and not just because the place was small.

But I did eat some delicious cinnamon toast.

The Last Bookstore – Downtown

FAVORITE. PLACE. EVER.

I’m sorry, every other bookstore in the world. I love you all. But you are not this magical, strange place.

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There actually are not many rows of easy book-shopping in this massive store. The first floor is a pretty typical and musty used bookstore (I say this with love). When you go upstairs, however, it’s like going into the wardrobe and ending up in Narnia, but BETTER.

(Okay… maybe not. Narnia is pretty cool. But close, definitely.)

There is an entire section called the Labyrinth of Books.

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Beyond the labyrinth of books, there is an entire room where the books are organized on the shelves by COLOR.

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After that, there’s a long hallway filled with rooms that are used as antique stores, knitting class venues, and art studios. Image

LA, you get me.

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Los Angeles was a pretty great place overall (and yes, the tacos were fantastic and Disneyland was pure magic) but I have to say, I did not expect to be so impressed with their bookstores. Way to go, LA. You did a literary nerd proud.

The Great eReader Debate of 2012

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Before you say anything, yes, I do know it’s 2013.

But this is a debate I’d like to leave behind in 2012, because as each year moves forward I start to lose my handle on my position. As you know, I’m completely obsessed with bookstores, so I obviously want to give them my business whenever possible.

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I appreciate the feeling of a book in my hands, of looking at the cover and flipping through the pages. But you know what? It would be nice if my physical book had a Ctrl+F feature.

And sometimes, I just want to read a specific book RIGHT NOW, because I am product of the American culture of instant gratification and if I can’t download what I need at any given moment I will DIE.

If nothing else, the ability to instantly download books would be detrimental for my bank account. I would get biweekly calls from Bank of America: “Have you lost your credit card? Because someone just purchased 20 fantasy ebooks and the collected works of Charles Dickens.”

Nope, that sounds like something I would do.

Most importantly, I don’t fault anyone else for reading ebooks. If more people are reading, even if it is 50 Shades of Gray, I think that’s AWESOME. If 50 Shades of Gray can be to middle-aged women what Harry Potter was for my generation, then… those women should probably read Harry Potter anyway. But, I’m getting sidetracked. That’s still great.

(Not quite as great, but I’ll take it.)

For some reason I feel like I’m taking a moral stance by reading physical books, like when I change the station if I hear a Chris Brown song on the radio. But ereaders are not the Chris Brown of literature. I just moved, and I had SEVEN boxes of books, and this was after giving away a huge pile. How nice would it be to have my library fit easily in my purse, accessible at all times?

I don’t think I’ll ever transition that far, mostly because I can’t give up the luxury of wandering the stacks of a bookstore. And the idea of working at a computer all day, and then going home to do nothing but stare at another screen (whether that be a TV or a tablet) is unbearably depressing to me.

But maybe… just maybe… I should let it go and accept ebooks as a the permanent, and incredibly convenient fixture that they are.

New Year’s Resolutions for the Chronically Flaky

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Friends. Can we finally stop pretending that New Year’s resolutions are even worth the breath it takes to utter them? I mean, no offense, but I know you want to lose weight. We all do. There’s a club for that, and it’s called the United States of America.

Let’s be kind to ourselves and set some goals we know we can accomplish:

1. In the new year, I aspire to make many plans and cancel them at the last minute because it’s raining/I don’t feel like wearing pants/Doctor Who.

2. In 2013, I will go through many bizarre healthful phases, like drinking green smoothies and kombucha, going to hot yoga, and using organic beauty products. This will be offset by a regular consumption of cheap beer and french fries.

3. This year, I vow to pretend to read several deeply intellectual books, and give up on them by page 50.

Are you with me?

Reasons to Keep the Internet

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(… in case you were on the fence)

-Scribophile—possibly the greatest writing site ever.

-Kimchi fried rice from The Kitchn, for anyone else who adheres to a spicy-food-only diet.

-Sherlock on the BBC (streaming on Netflix)

-New Columbia Distillers 

-Review GPA of The Casual Vacancy from Book Riot

-Yesterday’s Angry Birds update …don’t judge

-The Onion, every day

-This political ad starring Steve Martin

-WTF with Marc Maron — especially this episode where Ira Glass talks about getting wasted

-You can buy a wine purse.

That Time I Got Paid to Stand on the Street and Ask for Money

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I was standing outside of the Starbucks in Chinatown, observing the hordes of people with hawkish determination. Summer in Chinatown offers that wonderful cross-section of angry businessperson, flustered tourist, and bored teenager that can make city life so infuriating. But with all the people milling around, I was in prime canvassing ground.

I spent that summer fundraising for a nonprofit, like any politically active college student strapped for cash and living in a major metropolitan area.

And I was not good at this job. People tend to not respond well to dry, sarcastic requests for donations. This is an example of a recommended dialogue between a canvasser and her target:

“Hi! Will you help me fight global poverty? GREAT! That’s fantastic! Here are some devastating statistics. Will you help me change the world today with a pledge of $20 a month? WONDERFUL!” I was required to repeat all of this in a sunny, upbeat tone. You have not truly experienced an uncomfortable silence until you’ve talked about maternal death rates in sub-Saharan Africa with a smile on your face.

Now try maintaining that level of perverse peppiness all day long.

After getting blown off by several people in a row, with abrasive shouts of– “I don’t have time!” or– “Not again!” something rare happened. I was approached.

The woman was middle-aged, perhaps early 50s, with blonde hair in a high ponytail. She was somewhere between average and slightly overweight, but her pale pink turtleneck did nothing to flatter her figure. The turtleneck was paired with a matching pale pink tweed skirt and white Mary Janes. I believe she was wearing tights, despite the heavy August air. My eyes fell on the gold cross, draped carefully over the front of her sweater, and I knew I had a chance.

“What are you fundraising for?” the woman asked. I immediately started to give her my spiel about global poverty, infusing as much genuine energy into it as I possibly could.

She let me say my piece. Then she said, “You know, I don’t really think it’s safe for a girl to be out in the city alone.” I bit my lip to keep from rudely interrupting. “You should try reaching out to churches in the suburbs.”

We’re not a religious organization, I explained, choosing to ignore the first part of her claim. I made the pitch again, trying to bring the conversation back to the campaign. I even promised that I would take her suggestion about churches to my boss.

“I don’t make financial decisions without consulting my husband,” she replied, her voice sugary sweet.

My jaw fell open in disbelief, but I regained my footing and continued pushing. I pulled out some of my best statistics—meaning, of course, the worst and most horrible ones, flying through data on global lack of food and water, women’s rights, children with no access to education. Although she seemed sympathetic, she would not budge.

“I would be happy to take your information home to my husband and talk it over with him,” she offered.

If she donated later, it would not count towards my quota, and that was unacceptable.

Exasperated and realizing this perfect target was slipping away, I gave her one last plea. While I spoke, an unmarked white van pulled up to the curb. Before ascending into her cult mobile, she turned to me and placed a hand on my arm.

“You really should consider accepting Jesus into your heart,” she informed me. Then she got into the van and drove away.

I did not accept Jesus into my heart, and I did not meet my quota that day.

A few weeks later, I was paired up outside of the Barnes and Noble in Bethesda with my coworker Heather. Getting placed in Bethesda for the day is kind of like getting a free pass. I have one thing to say: wealthy stay-at-home moms.

We stood facing each other at the corner, able to get people coming from either direction. It had been a slow day, but we were in the shade and I had revved myself up with three espresso shots in my morning overpriced coffee drink. I was ready.

A BMW convertible pulled up to the street and parked illegally, and my eyes lit up: expendable income. The driver, a graying man in khakis, stepped out and started walking in my direction.

“Hi!” I said brightly. “Will you help fight global poverty today?”

The man stopped, but the expression on his face quickly transformed from agreeable to sneering. “Are you guys Democrats?” he asked. He asked it not as a question, but an accusation, as if he were saying, “You guys are Democrats.”

“We’re non-partisan!” I said, with the optimism and energy of a parakeet on cocaine.

He took a good look at me, then a look at Heather, and laughed. He went straight into Barnes and Noble, and I rolled my eyes, but let it go. On the scale of rejections, that had been pretty gentle.

About fifteen minutes later, he came out of the store and approached us. He handed me a thin book, then walked over to Heather and handed her one as well. All he said was, “Enjoy,” and got back in his car.

The book he had purchased for both of us was Common Sense by Glenn Beck.

The list price on Common Sense was $12.95, meaning he spent four more dollars than I would have asked him for. All I’m saying is, I don’t think that’s sound economic policy.

And while I have yet to read it, I have found that Common Sense makes an excellent coaster.

My Diet Plan

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As some of you may know, I’ve been working hard at eating better, getting regular exercise, and being healthier overall. I know this is something many people struggle with, so please allow me to impart some words of wisdom, which will be helpful to all.

The Cardinal Rule:

If it contains a vegetable, it is a salad.

Some examples:

A Bloody Mary is even better than a salad, just like kale juice is supposed to be better than actual kale. Liquid diets are the new black, or something.

Chips with salsa and/or guacamole—obviously a salad.

A burger or sandwich with lettuce and tomato is a salad. Ketchup does not count towards making your meal a salad; let’s not be ridiculous.

Anything with fruit is, clearly, a fruit salad. Fruit salads are good, but they should probably not make up the bulk of your diet, because remember, we’re leading a healthy lifestyle.

Fruit salads include ice cream with fruit pieces, and all fruit based pies. Mimosas do not count as salads, because if they have been made correctly, they should be almost all champagne with a slight orange flavor.

Oatmeal raisin cookies are NOT a fruit salad because they have been desecrated with raisins. In fact, any food containing raisins probably exceeds your daily calorie limit and should be avoided at all costs.

Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, however, are basically oatmeal and they are a perfectly acceptable breakfast.

Signed,

Rachel Miller, Nutritional Expert

My Life is Awkward: International Edition

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This is a story about study abroad.

This is not a story about riding a bicycle through the Italian countryside, traversing the streets of Paris wearing a floral-print skirt, carrying a picnic basket filled with baguettes and artisan cheese.

This isn’t even a story about a Jewish girl going to Israel, discovering her deep Jewish roots, embracing the natural curl of her hair and eventually crying it out with some meshugana babushkas (etc, etc).

It is a story about a Jewish girl in Israel.

She was sweaty, most of the time. It was hot. It was late spring in the Middle East, so give her a break. She didn’t discover any particularly deep roots, or even cry it out with anyone, except that one night she drank too much vodka and threw up on a parked car.

But she tried to be that bohemian, culturally sensitive, adventurous girl you see on the study abroad catalogs. She took her hungover ass on the bus at least once a week after morning Hebrew class and wandered around the market—or, as she in her culturally aware persona would said, “The shuk.”

You must italicize it in your speech.

She purchased dried kiwi and snacked on it as she shopped, buying carrots and apples for an amount in shekels she couldn’t quite translate to dollars fast enough, but she was sure it was dirt-cheap. (It probably wasn’t.) She bought fresh bread covered in zataar and may or may not have spent half the day walking around with the green spice all over her chin.

She then wandered up to a juice stand, where she was going to courageously place her order in Hebrew. After months of seeing fit, tan, glistening Israelis drinking freshly squeezed juice, she was finally feeling brave (and proficient in Hebrew) enough to order some herself.

“Mitz gever, bevakasha?” she asked. The man, a large, burly Israeli, said in perfect English, “What? Carrot?”

The girl took her juice and left the stand, feeling proud of herself for trying, even while she reflected that the carrot juice wasn’t quite as refreshing as she’d hoped and she probably should have learned the word for “grapefruit” instead.

And then the mistake dawned on her. The word for carrot was gezer—she was supposed to ask for “Mitz gezer.”

Gever was the word for man.

She had asked, in her simultaneously shaky and proud American accent, for “man juice.”

Fun Facts About the District of Columbia

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Alternative Title: Things I Didn’t Learn in My Poli Sci Classes At My Prestigious DC Alma Mater

Today I did some Wiki-research. It all started because I wanted to know if and when there would be a special election in DC if Mayor Gray resigned as a result of the allegations of corruption in his 2010 campaign. I pretty much got my local-politics world rocked, and I’m ashamed I didn’t know a lot of this information already, having lived in the DC area for six years now, and already being a person who would be interested in the date of a potential special election.

I wanted to share.

  1. Washington, DC did not have the ability to elect a mayor, a city council, or the President of the United States, until after 1973. I don’t know what’s more messed up–that this is a true fact, or that it took me six years to find this out. Seriously.
  2. Former Mayor and current City Councilman Marion Barry served as mayor from 1979-1991 and again from 1995-1999. (See above link.) The one term in that 20 year block he did not serve was following the time period when he was in jail. I will direct you to his Wikipedia page for more on that topic.

    3. This means that one man has held the office of mayor for almost half of its existence.

  3. Here’s where it gets really crazy. If Gray were to resign, the Chairman of the DC Council would become acting mayor until the special election. The most recent Chairman was Kwame Brown–who resigned just over a month ago after being charged with bank fraud. (The interim chairman until November is Phil Mendelson, who as far as I’m aware has not resigned–yet.)
  4. If Gray resigns, does the interim council chairman become the acting mayor? Do Congressmen from Utah and Alabama have a coup and decide to take over? Seriously–does anyone know the answer to this?
  5. Side note: Special elections cost money. We’re lucky that the DC Board of Elections decided to leave the council chairman special to the November ballot. A standalone special election in DC would cost at least $850,000. A special in November is cheaper–comparatively speaking. How much will two cost? Not to mention the fundraising that will go into another set of campaigns for this year.

That’s all. I have no closing statement, except that maybe we should all, I don’t know, PAY ATTENTION? (Including me. Obviously.) I can think of a few things that ANY city should spend money on rather than special elections.

P.S. If you’re a District resident, here is a voter registration form. You can also register to vote at the polls.

PSA over.