Ms. Varnelli (previously referred to as Hottie) and I stumbled upon the Hollywood Reservoir this weekend.

So Amy Jo and I took the baby Sydney out this morning and gave the stroller a test drive around the lake. Check out the Reservoir Dogs. I am almost embarassed that I have lived in Hollywood for close to three years and am now discovering these amazing places. Better later than never. Oh yes and I used to work over 50 hours a week, so I suppose that whole job thing got in the way.

One thing for sure, our baby is going to benefit!

Thought I would set the record straight. What is the difference between an ultrasound and a sonogram?

From what I can deduce after much research and speaking with two doctors. The procedure in which sound waves are bounced off an object is referred to as an ultrasound. The resulting picture is a sonogram. Most of the time the terms are used interchangeably and technically they mean the same thing, i.e. one uses ultrasound to create a sonogram.

ul·tra·sound
n.
1. Ultrasonic sound.
2. Medicine. The use of ultrasonic waves for diagnostic or therapeutic purposes, specifically to image an internal body structure, monitor a developing fetus, or generate localized deep heat to the tissues.

son·o·gram
n.
An image, as of an unborn fetus or an internal body organ, produced by ultrasonography. Also called echogram, sonograph, ultrasonogram.

If you wake up feeling bad... get out of bed, put on your shoes and head to the nearest hill.

Any hill will do.

Be careful.

Start counting the people who you can call on anytime of day or night. When you get to five... STOP...and feel really blessed. Exhale deeply and remember that feeling.

Look at all the greens and blues.

At the top of Dantes View, you might find some other crazies just like you. And you might find a lady dancing the meringue just happy that she made it.

Sara sent me an email pointing out that Emily Dickinson was "mad as a hatter." Thought I could slip that one by, but you are way too keen. Emily did have a penchant for wearing white and was a tad anti-social, but her poetry...

Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets,—
Prodigal of blue,

Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover’s words.

Dearest Tony,

These are just off the top of my head...

Louisa May Alcott
Isabel Allende
Maya Angelou
Margaret Atwood
Anne, Charlotte and Emily Bronte
Willa Cather
Emily Dickinson
Bell Hooks
Zora Neal Hurston
Shirley Jackson
Ursula K. Le Guin
Toni Morrison
Joyce Carol Oates
Marge Piercy
J.K. Rowling
George Sand
Sappho
Mary Shelley
Murasaki Shikibu
Gertrude Stein
Harriet Beecher Stowe
Alice Walker
Eudora Welty
Connie Willis
Banana Yoshimoto

Let me know if you have any questions or if you need a few more.

love,

Molli

PS. Start reading!

I'm not sure if I live in the most remote area of LA or if BH is just one of those places that is not easy to get to. Either way, it's a long, lovely journey across town. I took Melrose all the way there and I meandered on the way back several hours later. I have all the time in the world for the next few months and I plan on enjoying it.

The lawyer-in-training arranged the dinner plans and she was waiting outside in the after rain glow coming off the windows on Beverly Drive. I asked if our mutual friend the Lotus Flower has left for her adventure in Australia. She informed me that Lotus was taking care of a sick brother up in Berkeley. As if on cue, the Lotus arrived smiling just back from her trip up North. We were joined by the Director and Miss Lulu.

It was a fabulous dinner with no lull in conversation as our diligent waiter could attest.

For me the night was especially nice for two reasons:

No one drank and...

everyone ordered dessert.

On a quest to find MB and his ladyfriend, we found ourselves in Chinatown on a Saturday night. While everyone else we know was across town watching The Clones and apparently "loving every digital minute of it."

Other pregnant people and mom types casually mention little things like the AFP test. Before I knew it I was in the doctor's office and the nurse was taking more blood while the doctor distracted me with another ultra-sound. This test is done during the 4th month and determines if there is a potential for Down's Syndrome, Spina Bifida, other tubal defects and mental retardation. It is truly amazing what they can determine just by looking at my blood.

On Friday, G and I were back in her office waiting patiently. She waltzed in and warmed up the ultra-sound machine as she flipped through my chart. My eyes just bug out as I look at the little head and watch the heart beating. Completely distracted we almost forgot to ask about the test results. "Oh yeah, everything is just fine. We would have called you if there had been any problems." My doctor is cool as a goddamn cucumber, that's why I like her.

Now, this does not mean that the baby won't have any problems. (Look at the geeky parents it will be lucky enough to be raised by...) However the chances are just less that it will have any of those scarey ones I mentioned before.

As we were leaving, they handed me a bright colored orange drink that I am to take about 45 minutes before my next appointment. This is for a glucose test for me (not the baby). Apparently, a small percentage of pregnant women develop gestational diabetes during pregnancy. If I am diagnosed with diabetes, most likely I will have to modify my sugar intake for the last trimester. As this baby constantly craves sugar, this might be an irksome task.

But hell, I have not had a drink for over five months and I'm a little cranky but still hanging in there.

This week I am to be scheduled for a major ultra-sound at the USC clinic where they can take a good look at the developing baby and yes, my patient friends and family, they can see if there is a penis or not a penis...

It's an age old story. Girl sees sexy guitarist on stage. Guitarist goes to Prague. Girl goes to Colorado, Washington, etc. They exchange lovely letters and silly phone calls over the next five years. Neither of them can get that one rainy night in Santa Barbara out of their heads. They replay it a million times and wonder, what if?

What if that night could be relived endless times? What if that person of your dreams, finally asks you to come home with him and there is nothing to stop you? What if you find him to be even more amazing every day that you spend with him?

Happy third anniversary! To many, many more!

Artist fools Caltrans... watch the amazing (and short) video.

Artist Richard Ankrom took it upon himself to fix the problem of the confusing Highway 5 North exit off the 110.

Now if art could only fix that little traffic jam that the 5 North exit seems to cause at all hours of the day and night...

"Seerat" apparently means "Attitude". If the women of the Seerat can do it, I know that my friends can too! A not too informative, but action provoking article about a women run newspaper/magazine in Afghanistan...

"Pooling their money, the women started writing their own articles
in the afternoons. They paid a private printing company to run off
500 copies of a one-page newsletter, complete with cartoons and
editorials. They had no computers or typewriters; they still write
their articles longhand." (From LAT 5/9/02)

If anyone out there can figure out a way to send them support (money, computers, magazines etc.) please send me some info. I have spent a bit of time trying to find contact information, to no avail...

This is the view from the guest bedroom. Barely visible are the three horses and one goat on the neighbor's land. The whole place is surrounded by a pear orchard run by the local Mormons...

A l-o-n-g weekend in Medford, Oregon visiting my mom. Medford fun fact: used to be called Middle Ford. My guess is because it is situated between the Rogue River and the Bear River. My mom has a good five acres of land up there and she is currently deciding if she will board miniature donkeys, sheep, or cows. My vote goes to the donkeys.

One thing for sure, G deserves an "I Survived Medford" t-shirt.

I just got back from prenatal yoga. It was incredible today. I even managed to squeak out the twenty-five squats. (Talk to me and my thighs tomorrow.) I dropped by Baller Hardware on my way home to make some extra keys. I love our local hardware store because they are very helpful and pleasant to deal with versus the large chain stores that I won't bother naming, linking or otherwise promoting.

Giovanni Ribisi was skulking around the aisles being the Los Feliz resident that he is... as well as a fantastic actor.

Yesterday, I met my sister, mom and Aunt Mimi at the brand spankin' new Grove. It's gorgeous, very convenient and lovely on a Monday morning. I would avoid it like the plague on weekends. Oh the humanity. The music was a little oppressing but it is a silly mix of Vegas and Disneyland right there in the Fairfax district. The develpers were smart in creating a clean, pleasant space with endless outdoor tables. Tres Euro. The stores are pretty high end: Tommy Bahama, FAO Schwartz, Pottery Barn Kids (can you guess why we went?), and Nordstrom... those are the ones I can remember. My sister claims that the theater is excellent and you can enjoy a glass of wine in the lobby prior to showtime. The Grove is adjacent to the good old Farmer's Market which I wandered around for the first time. Another nice meeting place with good, diverse grub.

These endless gray days seem to blend together. I think they came just to make us appreciate that lovely summer even more when it finally gets here...

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

It was another beautiful Spring weekend, I could not imagine living anywhere else.

My "weekend" started with G and I seeing a 4 o'clock showing of Spider-Man with half of John Marshall High School. I really liked it, it was great fun and wonderful to look at. As we walked out G says, "It wasn't very realistic." He's too funny, can you see why I snagged him?

Friday night I went out with Miss K and Hottie. It was almost a girls night out except we were escorted by a Southern Gentleman. We watched Big Rock City and Tsar play at a loft party on 11th Street downtown. The home of the legendary Rick Royale. Rick is one of my favorite L.A. characters. I actually met him almost 10 years ago when he played in Seattle with rockabilly superstars the Rattled Roosters. Then I met him again right when we moved to L.A.

Rick's new band finished off the night then we headed straight for Jay's Jayburgers, very nice! You know the spot from the very posed picture of No Doubt in last month's Rolling Stone. Yeah, like Gwen Stefani eats anything at Jay's...

But when G's baby wants a burger, G's baby gets a burger. At least I stayed away from the chili and onions, which is more than I can say for the Southern Gentleman. Huge props to his lovely and tolerant girlfriend for letting us borrow him for the night!

Where was I?

Saturday started with a hike, once again with Miss K and Hottie. Once again in Bronson Canyon, my new favorite hiking spot. Then Miss K had a nice bbq with some serious displays of public drunkeness.

Woke up very tired and feeling nauseated again.

Pregnacy... all the hangovers without any of the glorious booze.

What you see here is my first attempt to grow artichokes... it took about 11 months.

What I hope you see is a beautiful artichoke ready for steaming.

In reality? An aphid farm, a home for wayward ants and the latest hotspot for earworms. Whoever said art has to be edible?

My sister and I went for a nice long walk in Venice on Thursday. The water was gorgeous. Sometimes I get caught up on the East side and forget about the ocean. In no time I was there breathing in the salty air and walking across the sand. We stopped by her favorite thrift store and I found just what I was dreaming of... Oh glorious Summer sun, now I can sleep in your golden arms!

Due to hormonal influences I am wide awake and ready to puke at 3am. The really sad part is that if I don't get my requisite twelve hours of sleep my eyes puff up like I've been on a week long crying spree. I'm just glad that you are here for me dear bloggy. You're up all night, just waiting for me. You might need to do something about your codependency, but for now I'm just glad you are here.

Maybe I'm all worked up about the Dodgers losing. It was a sad excuse for a game. Except for the Dodger Dogs, they were good and plentiful. Just the thought about those dogs makes me a little queasy right now. I wanted to tell you about the weird food cravings (like the special trip I had to make to the store to buy a whole pineapple) but it will have to wait until this bout with nausea passes.

The good news:

Sorry to be such a goddamn broken record. Endless seasickness is not the only thing I have been feeling, I swear. There have been times that I have felt so amazing and blissed out that it beats any other high I have ever experienced. In that way, I am sad that men cannot experience being pregnant. When I feel good, I feel really good and strong as if my body is finally doing something, biologically, right. I also feel overwhelming love for my husband. We can be in the middle of a silly (yet passionate) bicker and still look each other in the eyes. Then we laugh. It is difficult to put into words due to its visceral nature. I am experiencing a physical love for him that flows from my my head to my tingling fingers and toes. Perhaps it is a premonition of parental love.

Also, besides looking and feeling like I am getting an out-of-control beer gut without enjoying the benefits of drinking... I have experienced quickening or "life" fluttering like a butterfly in my belly. The baby is only a couple pounds right now so s/he is not up to a full kick just yet. But you can bet that there is some serious swimming going on.

Good morning America, good night darlings!

"

What is Don Frances doing playing a copper in John Carpenter's "Assault on Precinct 13"?

What really makes this movie special is the teribble yet perfect music. It cracked me up the whole time, just some guy sitting around smoking something and playing four different notes on a synthesizer. Imagine a typical 70s B picture with the sexual tension between all the characters palpable, mostly inappropriate, and distracting. The dialogue is priceless. Everyone is trying to figure out why this one prisoner has a nickname of "Napoleon" and he keeps saying, "Maybe I'll tell you sometime." I love that it is set in L.A., I love that all ethnicities are represented in the various gang members. When did L.A. gangs stop their equal opportunity programs? Must have been the teribble 80s.