I’m going to see Norm tomorrow in San Diego. This is me, bragging it up!
I’m going to see Norm tomorrow in San Diego. This is me, bragging it up!
We (KCET) just did a piece on him and it’s utterly fantastic. Read it. You must.
Sorry about the whole racism thing.
Well. You should give money to the AIDS Walk Los Angeles. I don’t get a red penny of it. What I do get to do is go on a walk with coworkers and contribute your money to stop new infections and support people living with HIV/AIDS.
If you have a few bucks rolling around in your pocket, I’ve set my personal goal at $300.00. But I would so love to exceed that goal.
Also, as an added bonus, anyone who donates will be part of a random drawing for a copy of my book. I’ll mail it to you and everything.
Here’s my personal page. Let’s raise some money.
Things about my job, which is, for the record, Digital Project Manager for KCETLink:
I have to frequently explain the difference between public access and public television.
I got into this for the tote bags. I still haven’t gotten a tote bag. I remain hopeful.
I have to frequently explain that, no, we are not a PBS station. We’re independent. We’re the Beyonce of the public tv world, though. We’re fierce and mighty and dancey and looking good. Who needs Downton Abbey when we have Huell Howser? Sesame Street? No, thanks. I’m busy watching crazy music videos from around the world on Border Blaster.
I get to write things on sticky notes and give people points and use words like scrum.
I get to edit information on Climate Change, which means I get to learn all the latest horrifying scary information on Climate Change.
We get to produce and curate all sorts of really cool shows and content to bring to you. One of the shows I am most excited about right now is Link Voices. It’s a curation of some of the best documentaries I have ever seen. I can’t even make it through the promo without getting choked up.
So far, my favorite doc that we’ve aired is a documentary about Skid Row that I feel every Angeleno should see. But a very close second is our newest, “The Pink Room”, a look at Cambodian sex slavery and the challenges of the people trying to combat it. From the moment Mein starts to talk about her experiences, followed by the macabre children’s drawings of girls being tied to beds, their bodies exchanged for money with promises that they won’t make you use a condom, you’re drawn in. It’s frustrating, painful, and I am so glad this film exists.
So, next time you’re trying to figure out what to watch while you stuff your face on your couch or whatever it is that you do, give “The Pink Room” a few minutes. It’s streaming for the next two weeks for free.
Maybe you’ve found a computer. Maybe you’re googling yourself to see if we’re looking for you, like last time. If you’re out there wondering, there’s no plan to drive you to a treatment center in Malibu this time. There’s no plan at all, really, because it largely depends on you.
Summer is here and I see you everywhere I look. In the daytime at the parks, homeless people find shade and sleep, waiting, I suppose, for the air to be cool enough that they can walk around in their layers, carrying all their stuff. I stare hard at each of them, wondering if they’re you. I have a fear that you’re going to be there, close to me, and I am going to be looking at a billboard, running my usual cynical commentary, and I’ll not see you.
I see people walking with your mannerism sometimes. Tall, thin, touching their hair, with legs and feet loping in a cartoonish way, shoulders rising and falling in bouncing rhythm with their steps. I see them and I stare at them, even after I know they aren’t you, wondering if maybe they are. Who knows what living on the streets has made of you? You could be any of them now. Maybe you don’t even walk that way anymore.
Last night I watched the Guitarmaggedon episode of “Home Movies” and I remembered how we watched every episode of that show together. The mother/son relationship in that show was so similar to ours. Before everything went to hell, you and I were simpatico. We were a remarkable duo; every person we ever encountered felt it.
When someone goes through a breakup, you try to remind them that time will heal them, whenever time gets off its ass and gets around to doing that. Eventually you stop feeling like someone’s standing on your neck, you can breath, and you forget how desperately you once needed that other person. With you, I am aware that this ache will never end. The memory of the salt sour smell of your skin is imprinted on me, after all. Biology forces that smell upon mothers as a way for us to help protect our young. I’m doing a piss poor job of protecting you.
Where are you, goddamit, and what are you doing, and why won’t you just give me the peace of knowing? You always hated that I wanted to know where you were and who you were with. I always told you, tough luck, buster. I’m your mom and that’s what we do. But you hated it so much that you made sure I couldn’t know. And now I’ve moved to a different place, have a different phone number.
I cannot give you up for gone and move on.You must know that. I am trying my hardest to chill and wait for you to come to your senses, dude, but as your brother tells me all the time, I have no chill at all. It’s been six months. That’s long enough. It’s time to come home, sit down with me, and talk things through. Dig into the part of you that remembers who I really am to you instead of this version of myself that I became when you started getting in trouble. Maybe watch this episode of Home Movies. Maybe imagine watching that in the air conditioned living room while eating food you don’t have to beg for money to get. Whatever it takes. I’m here.
If you are reading this and want to help, please tweet or Facebook or blog a link to his poster. http://www.missingkids.com/poster/NCMC/1243232/1
He’s a blue-tailed skink and he was swimming right at me as I was attempting to usher a drowning bee to safety. It was very dramatic. There was even music playing.
Photo by Nick, not by me.
I harbor a deep obsession for products. I try every damn stupid thing that comes on the market, and some of this crap makes a difference. Some of it is straight up useless. Let me share some of my wrinkle remedy, hair thickening/coloring/smoothing, skin perfecting, anti puffiness, puffiness adding wisdom with you.
A photo posted by NIkol Hasler (@nikolhasler) on
These things aren’t magic and I doubt the “gold” in them does a whole hell of a lot. I saw them on Groupon for $100 supposedly reduced from $800, and I looked them up to see what in the world disposable product anyone would ever pay that much money for. I learned that this is the newest in fancy spa treatments. Women go get their faces smeared with gold, or get these masks.
I looked into it more, found them on Amazon for $11-$15 for a five pack, and figured I’d give them a try.
Not only do you get to look like scary iron man, these masks contain rose oil, and they’re cool and soothing to wear. I put mine in the fridge first, which is actually great for puffy skin. And while I like the full-face mask every now and again, I much prefer the under-eye gold masks, which I totally would not lie to you dude, I swear, made my eyes less puffy.
Some of the Amazon reviews complained about the size of the eye-holes, but those people are doofuses because these are stretchy. Stretch them, doofuses.
This costs $29.00 and does absolutely nothing at all. It touts that it contains caffeine. You’ll get just as much effect if you put some tea bags over your eyes when you’re in the bathtub. (That’s a thing that sorta works.)
I ambled into a store in North Hollywood recently, trying to find presents to give myself for Mother’s Day from Ayden, and that’s when I discovered KleanSpa. The lady that runs the show over there took me back to her workshop and showed me all of her vials of essential oils and I basically just wanted to move in there and smell stuff.
I ended up buying a jar of hu-MAN-ity sugar scrub that smells like dirt and grass. I’m a big fan of sugar scrubs already, because they really exfoliate and they have oil in them to moisturize right away.
Now I use this stuff to shave my legs, and it works better than any shaving gel or lotion I have ever found. Plus, my legs are really soft.
I am a lady who likes to constantly change my hair. It’s time consuming and costly, but it’s fun. I get my fun how I can. So, a temporary solution seemed like it would make sense for me. Especially since there’s no way I have the patience or money to do that whole new Sand-Art Hair thing that looks so fun.
This stuff is just nasty. The instructions make it sound like it’s easy to do. You just put your hair on some flat, hard surface and then rub on the chalk. It even indicates that blending is easy.
Anywhere I tried to blend, it turned nasty grey or brown. Applying it proved pretty difficult to do on my own. And the suggestion of styling it with heat to brighten it only made it faded and dull. But the worst part about using this stuff should’ve been really evident to me, because the name of the product says it all. It’s hair chalk. Chalk that you put in your hair. And chalk is a really stupid thing to put in your hair. So don’t.
Have any products you want me to try before you do? How about suggestions of things I will love? Or do you just want to say hello? Feel free to leave me a comment.