Monday, August 1, 2011
UkuAdventures in LA: Jean-Slimming, The Eco-Beautiful & Baby Nirvana!
As a visit to the American South or Midwest is psychologically slimming, so is a pants-free-swimsuit-heavy journey, quietly shifting one's body perception to a mix of acceptance, realization that every woman, except most in LA, have cellulite/tummy-pouches and just not giving a meep anymore.
Yesterday I dressed in jeans for the first time in 5 weeks and my primary triumphant thought was: "My churro 'n' taco diet made me lose weight!" Then The Ukulady dashed my slimjoy to the Rocks of Comedy-Reality and told me he had stretched all my jeans in my absence to make me feel great upon my return. Then I realized I am not actually trimmer, I just haven't worn jeans in a long time and it's shocking-good news that are not snug after the all-churro diet.
I am very tan and the tan-narcissist who lives within my head asked The Ukulad to comment on it continuously for the next few weeks:
UKULADY: Lad, I want you to admiringly, tell me how tan I am throughout the day.
UKULAD: I'm not going to do that. If you want to hear it, I'll say it once and you can record it and play it whenever you want. I charge non-union voiceover rates.
What an awesome invention: The Virtual Audio-Gal or Manpanion! The size of a tiny pen/mp3 recorder, it comes with a bevy of complimentary phrases like, "You look adorable today!" or "Wow, you're popular!" or "I know you're going to Get That Job/Book That Series-Regular/Get Published in Harpers/New Yorker/Paris Review!"
In other news, Ukulad and I went to the Mar Vista Farmer's Market yesterday and it was a bit irritating to be thrust back into the culture of Eco-Beautiful people. The Eco-Beautiful are mixed with the Plastic-Surgery Enthusiasts, primarily older ladies with the always-repulsive Trout-Lips. I love the opportunity and potential LA provides, but navigating the stunningly-attractive narcissists, clueless & power-hungry is ridiculous. It's kind of like living in on Planet Unicorn.
LA's Eco-Beautiful are so obsessed with their pets that the Farmer's Market has a dog-sitting service. It's ludicrous to take one's dog to the Farmer's Market, to pay someone else to watch it, while one shops for overpriced, organic, hybrid fruit. The treat-your-dog-like-a-baby phenomenon thrives like herpes here in Lalaland as most folks, like me, are shocking-to-the-Mexicans, childless until late 30's/early 40's, ambitiously toiling in the industry-bowels towards our childhood dreams.
A perfect segway to the Children of the Farmer's Market Eco-Beautiful; the American-Child Tantrum was in full display at yesterday's market. There's an Eco-Beautiful-Parenting trend of Reasoning-with-Children:
(Child Flipping out)
MOM: (softly, soothing) Brooklyn, is that behavior a good choice?
(Brooklyn screams louder)
MOM: Brooklyn, I can't understand you when you scream; choose your words. Consider another option.
(Brooklyn flings herself on the Farmer's Market ground and screams louder. Mom, cellulite-free, clad in pricey yoga-ensemble, sighs and shrugs towards her identical mom-friend)
MOM: I think she's allergic to soy.
The kids behavior is usually blamed on food allergies, light autism or ADD. I am adverse to Reasoning-with-Kids. They are instinctual beings with no control over their emotions; I know adults who don't understand what "Consider another option" even means. I saw a Mexican mom in Melaque do the old-fashioned ear-grip 'n' drag of a screaming child. It worked remarkably well and the kid shut up. Stick to the classics, Parents.
In other news, The Ukulad is adverse to eating BBQ in LA. There's a trend of Industry-Burnouts turning to artisan food-production, with delightful and overpriced snack-trucks & treateries everywhere, keeping the over-abundant pilates/yoga studios in business.
UKULAD: I don't want to eat fancy BBQ. I want my BBQ served to me in a cheap-paper-paddle-boat by a toothless person.
It's kind of like me and my snobbery about bagels & lox.
Love The Ukulady
ps: Baby-stores in LA are selling Baby Nirvana Onesies. Ridiculous.