Cuckoo for Solvang

Solvang is close. Close enough to make a day trip out of it, far enough away to feel like I'm going somewhere. It is also incredibly kitchy and forced, which is always a bonus. Let's take a faux Nordic village and plunk it down in the middle of California. Nevermind the fact that it is 100 degrees. The weird thing is, there were hordes of Europeans there!

This trip started out with a visit to the ladies room, as always. Nothing says road trippin like safety mirrors and no soap.





My hopes of a baby in the clog photo op were dashed when I realized it was hotter than the surface of the sun. Drats! Oh well, just imagine a baby sitting in there. Awww, isn't she cute? Take a picture, quick!





Everything in Solvang is vaguely Nordic or Denmarkian or something like that. The Vinhus looks like a ship, but with wine and the ever-present American flag on the front.





Example #1 why you never let your 8-year-old daughter name your store. Look what can happen!





The only upside to it being 100 fucking degrees was getting to buy a new hat. Hooray for heat stroke!





Being roughly 5 hours away from San Francisco, it seems fitting they would have a Birkenstock store here, right? Question is, how does Birkenstock get away with keeping their hippie image yet selling leather goods? My husband says their slogan should be "Our leather only comes from euthanized cows." Who cares if it's true? The PETA freaks will eat it up.





Yes, I'd like an order of self-loathing with the regret drizzle. Body dysmorphia on the SIDE please, on the side.





What's crappier than a beignet but yummier than a bran muffin? Aebleskivers, of course! It is practically Solvang's sole purpose, cranking these bad boys out.





Your belief that you are getting any of my aebleskivers is touching, really. You are so naive.





Here's an idea. Go to the thrift store, buy some old ties, sew them together, and sell it for $90! These people are obviously on Etsy.





Another great feature of Solvang is their creepy murals. "Hey Olga, let's go down to the pie cellar. There's something in there I want you to churn." America FTW!




Okay, that mural was so great I simply MUST tweet it. Wait, how the hell do I post to Twitter on this payphone? Fail!




My accidental version of Michelangelo. Yes it's a stretch, people. It's called suspension of disbelief, check into it!





On the ride home we get stuck behind a red Corvette doing 30 on the freeway. PSA: If you buy a red Corvette, have the intestinal fortitude to drive it like a God-damn man. Show some sack! The vanity plate says 4MYSPRT. I'm guessing the "spirit animal" in question must be a turtle.




So that's Solvang in a nutshell. Donut holes with powdered sugar, overpriced souvenirs, and vaguely Nordic architecture. See? I saved you a trip!

LA Seesmeet - Party On The Patio

You know all those funny, interesting people you see on Seesmic? If you get the chance to meet up with them in real life, DO it! A few of the Seesmic staff were in Los Angeles for the Filmmakers Alliance Visionfest and orchestrated an impromptu meetup.

LA SeesMeetup 8/21/08Hey, we're headed to LA! Come hang out with us Thursday, August 21 at 7pm at Lucy's El Adobe...5536 Melrose Ave. (across from Paramount)

I apologize for the dark footage, it's film noir peeps! The main jist is that we all missed Sukhjit. Oh and Rachel and I pitched a Girls of Seesmic calendar. Sorry, we've already called dibs on July and December.


LA Seesmeet from mayjah on Vimeo.

LifeCasting - It Gets Complicated

No, not like that crappy Denise Richards show on E, I mean it gets complicated like sometimes you have to discussing your "feelings" on camera. This is just the way it goes but the good thing is, your audience will eat.it.up. People love to see other people's psyches gasp and flop around like a goldfish on the counter so just go for it.

If you are having a hard time opening up or even FEELING anything at all, that is totally normal. Maybe you are dead inside. This is a distinct possibility. Prescription drugs, loud techno music, and outrageous behavior have all been proven to generate false emotions so start your quest for the human experience there. Worst comes to worst, just fake it.


LifeCasting - It Gets Complicated from mayjah on Vimeo.

LifeCasting For Beginners

At the New Media Expo last weekend I got introduced to the concept of "lifecasting." Just to clarify, this is LIFEcasting, not lifeCASTING:




It was explained to me on a Thursday night in a really loud casino and the person doing the explaining had been drinking, so I remained rather fuzzy on the term come Friday morning. I still don't really understand it. I think it has to do with just pointing a camera at yourself while you do boring stuff. Not knowing what I was doing didn't stop me, your intrepid social media explorer, from venturing into the uncharted lifecasting waters. Armed with nothing more than my trusty Flip camera and an hour with nothing to do, I produced my first lifecast! Enjoy!


LifeCasting, a Brief Introduction from mayjah on Vimeo.

Pradaholics Anonymous

A peek inside the Beverly Hills Prada store. It is really quite beautiful and architecturally unique. Did I just say architecturally unique? On my blog? Please come punch me in the face.

My dear husband snapped all these pictures, brought them home, loaded them on my computer and made one my wallpaper as a surprise. Yes, the man knows how to please a woman, don't hate! This was right before the Trembled Blossoms party we went to, so these pictures are all from the Spring collection. Boo hoo, I told ya'all I was a procrastinator so quit your whining.

Of course the only extravagance I can afford from Prada on a regular basis is perfume, but hey, a picture of a shoe is almost as good as the real thing right? It's not? Crap.



This about sums up Prada in a nutshell. Faux spats for invisible one-legged socialites. Now THAT is a niche market!





These are pictures of one of the displays they ended up changing right before the party. Everyzing needz to be purfect for zee partee! That purse she is holding kicks ASS! I saw it in person and almost started sobbing.





Very cool little alcove to hide in, in there. Precisely why children are frowned upon in here.






Another shot of the display. Yeah I'd look great in that suit if I was a 98-pound, 16-year old too! The centimeter-wide belt is my faaaaavorite.





Here you can actually see the grooviness of the green sponge walls that are illuminated from behind. The urge to stick your fingers in there is uncontrooooollable. Oh yeah and there are some pretty clothes that cost a lot of money.





Say what you will about Prada, their displays are certainly memorable and clever.





Faux spats over plaid tights. Come on, it's a look, people! Hundred bucks says you won't do it!





I know it is already August and probably almost too late to wear these shoes but I totally wood. Get it? Would/wood? Oh that's cork? Well fuck it's close enough! Geez, shoe material nazis! I guess my "sporting shoe wood" joke is right out then too, fuckitall.





What is most striking about this style is how common it looks. Haven't I seen these at Payless? Oh wait, did I say Payless? I mean, ummm, Nordstroms, yeah!





I think I'd like a rotating dias for my shoes, then I remember how many pairs I have ...





What's neon and pretty and probably costs more than a live ostrich? Bingo!





Okay you are looking up to the 2nd and 3rd floors in this picture. The frosted glass there actually switches from clear to opaque on command, all the dressing rooms are clear until you shut the door. Oh, and there is a camera so you can look at the back of your outfit too, because a mirror would be too, like ghetto and all that.

And I'll leave you now with some wicked Prada artwork from the Spring collection. This first one reminds me of something that would be on a Tool album cover.

Mayjah, My-Jah and Mahjong

Where did the name for this blog come from, anyway? If I told you it was all Posh Spice's fault, would you believe me?

Cut to the Project Runway Season 4 finale, Victoria Beckham is guest judging. Looking like a glamorous alien who has just been dipped in Tang, she pronounces that Christian's collection is "mayjah." The Internets are instantly ablaze with the saying: D-Listed, the LA Times blog, Monsters and Critics to name a few (yes, a few can be ablaze, don't argue semantics with me!).

After this, I cannot stop saying it. I wander around for months announcing that this is "mayjah" and that is "mayjah" and it always makes me giggle because I think of Posh and how batshit crazy she is. Mayjahhhh! So just about this time I was trying to think of a clever name for my blog and boom, there it was! I almost drove off the road. Only problem is mayjah.com was already taken, some completely home decorating site. Ugh!

It actually is a real term. I mean, if it is in the Urban Dictationary it has to be real, right? There is even a Zazzle tee that says Mayjah! Sure it is probably the modern equivalent of Bart Simpson saying "Don't have a cow, man!" but I like it anyway.

Of course once I started the blog I realized how confusing the name was, and how people began pronouncing it My-Jah, like they thought it was actually my name. The latest obfuscation made me thing of Mahjong, which I actually really like.



So in honor of the Chinese hosting the Olympics, behold, I introduce to you, my Asian alter-ego, Mayjah Mahjong. No I don't know why she in that position, or why she has a yoga ball yet looks like she is going to a rave sleepover. When you go to Photobucket for pictures you don't know the answers to these types of questions! It's a divine mystery.



Maybe this one is better. She is playing soccer, that's kinda Olympic-y right? Playing soccer in the mud in white underwear is rad. She's not afraid to get DIRTY. Watch out punk-asses! (I can't even bring myself to delete the watermark. One commentS ?!! I can't make this shit up!)



Since I can't decide who I like better, I'll leave it up to you, dear readers. Who do you like? Argyle '90s rave Mahjong or kick-ass muddy athlete Mahjong? Cast your vote in the Comments. No comments = split-personality Mahjong.

Golden Pigs, Lions Gate, and How To Not Induce Labor

Today is 08/08/08. I know you are all excited about the Olympics and John Edwards screwing people but other exciting things are happening today too. Namely, the 8:8:8 stargate or lion's gate, some kind of big celestial energyfest. Oh yeah, and that link right there takes you to the AWESOMENESS of the Internet peeps, no lie. You won't regret it.

The superstitiousness of the date reminded me of last year, 07/07/07. I was hugely pregnant and wanted NOTHING more than to give birth on 07/07. It became my mission in life. The weeks heading up to it, I was praying NOT to go into labor and screw it up, and once it got closer I just got so nervous/excited/freaked out. I wondered if I could cause myself to go into labor just by sheer force of will. Turns out? No.

Last year's 07/07/07 was also double lucky because according to Chinese astrology, 2007 was the year of the Golden Pig, very fortuitous and only occurs every 600 years or so. Apparently women all over Asia were trying to get knocked up to have a baby in 2007.



See how lucky I was? I wasn't even trying! If I could have a 07/07 baby it would surely be the second coming, or at least help me win the Super Lotto!

So with determination and the mania that only a 9-month pregnant woman can possess, I set out to test any and ALL labor inducers. Only problem was, I didn't want to try one too soon and have it be successful. What to do?! What if spicy Chinese food really worked but I tried it on the 5th and had the baby on the 6th? Fuck! Can you see my predicament?

If you or, God help you, someone you love, is about to have a baby, here is a breakdown of my attempts and their success rates:

• Eggplant parmesian: Yeah, do you THINK it worked? Who made this one up? Lame.

• Lots of sex: Okay, I know who made this one up, but unfortunately it didn't work either. I mean I really put this one to the test and still .... no baby!

• Spicy Chinese food: More well known than the eggplant myth but still, didn't work. Tasted yummy though!

• Primrose oil capsules and raspberry tea: I lump these 2 together because most women this desperate do both. If you are hardcore you are supposed to apply the primrose oil directly onto your cervix. Just softens your cervix, which the sperm from all that sex does too. Again, no baby!

• Black licorice: I truly despise black licorice and yet I tried this one. For NOTHING! Fuck, was I bitter after I choked down an entire bag and still had a big fat belly and no baby.

• Lots of walking: Someone prudish who didn't want to have sex must have made this one up. Oh did I mention I was 1000th months pregnant and it was July and it was hot? Oh yeah, I was fun to walk with. They were lining up!

• Castor oil. The way they sell this is like "Drink this and you will be going into labor within 30 minutes." It tastes like lipstick and if you have any gagginess left from your 1st trimester, you probably won't be able to keep it down. It will NOT make you go into labor in 30 minutes, but you will be doing something equally urgent in 30 minutes, that much is true. This is the only reason I even had castor oil in my house for this photo.

So what is the concencus then? Nothing worked! Well that's not entirely true. I did try one, final recipe the day that I went into labor. This was also THREE WEEKS after 07/07. I wholeheartedly believe that it was simply coincidence and I was going to have the baby anyway. But I'll tell you what I took: 4 teaspoons of brown sugar in water. Yeah, there is no way something that simple could have done it, right? Didn't think so.

Bonus: For staying all the way to the end of that long, boring article about labor, here is a completely NSFW bestiality pic! Lucky you!

Pimp My Business Card

"Because sometimes a solitary penguin IS the right message to convey who you are: A lonely, frigid little bitch who waddles."

I have never had a business card in my life, I've never had a job that required me to have one. As I'm going to the New Media Expo next week, it just dawned on me that I should have SOME form of social media identification, preferably some small scrap of paper that shout "Hello world, I've got blogs! Here are the addresses, come or don't come, I don't really care."

Once I stop being the world's leading authority on procrastination technologies, I plan on getting a business card designed by Jason at Gorilla Sushi. That might be a lost cause though because he is on the brink of worldwide fame and glory after his Fail Whale Pale Ale submission wins and then he won't even take my calls anymore and I'll be all "Hey, I knew you way back when. Don't you remember me?" and he'll be all "Um, guards, release the hounds!"

So in the short term, and because we are talking literally days now, I wanted to go with a same-day printing job. You know, real classy like. Browsed on over to Staples and oh-my-God the weirdness began. Come stroll with me on a journey I like to call "the many moods and colors of my blog."




Okay the one that started it all! Why are cherry knockers so wrong and yet so right at the same time? God it's like horrible perfection. Since I don't have one single, solitary tattoo and I'm not siliconically enhanced, this would be especially funny. Here, take this card that is in no way a representation of who I am. But look, boobies!!! You KNOW you'd take one.





"Hi, I'm skater douche. I'll spend more time smoking weed than working and I'll be doing ollies off the copier, but hire me okay? Kay."





Hopefully this one comes scented too, just for the full effect. Is this saying "I'm an ashtray?" to anyone else? I don't have a raspy enough voice to pull this one off.





Perfection! Laptop, world domination, money, and a crumpled pile of clothes. This card IS ME! But I must trudge on, in search of business card oddities for your amusement.





"If you hire me, I'll take 3-hour lunches and 42 smoke breaks. But at least I'll use the little plastic clock sign, I'm considerate like that!"





Of course I can't use this one, this isn't a group blog. But with my beatboxing skills this card would be so .... ironic. I CRAVE to know who has this card. Please reveal yourself to me!





"Here is my card, now give me all your money or the receptionist gets it!" With my colorful past of course I'm leaning toward this one. What, you don't remember I'm a wanted criminal? Let me refresh your memory:



See? Don't mess with me people, I'm dangerous.





Oh yes, this is going to sting a little but you need a hot blog injection. "She's the one they call Dr. Feelblog, she's gonna make ya feel all right!" (If you didn't get that Motley Crue reference you are TOO young. Go ask your dad.)





"My mad skillz get everyone doing the Funky Chicken. Above the fold! Yee haw! Everybody on the dance floor, come on, let's go."





"My blog will give you an eating disorder. My blog will give your KIDS an eating disorder! (fatties)"





"Read my blog! I am a bad mo-fo who is not afraid to put my faux leather-gloved fist through a prebroken piece of glass in front of a purple backdrop. Recognize!"





"Take my fucking business card or I'm gonna pop a cap in your ass!"





I actually really, really, really (really) like this card. "Take my card or I will roll you out like wholesale carpet, round-eye. Crouching tiger, hidden blogger, hai-yah!"





"You'd be wise to read my blog or I will burn your mother-fucking house down. No lie!"





This one is titled "ballerina." I don't know what kind of broke-ass ballet she is doing but I have never, ever seen that move before. Who is this card marketed to? Okay, besides me. Who?





Even cheetah hunters need business cards ya'all. Every time someone doesn't take his card, a cheetah dies. Just take it and say thanks!





"My domain is worth thiiiiiiiis much!"





This one says "I have no interest in actual work, can't you tell from my glazed expression that I am right this minute fantasizing about lounging under a palm tree in a bikini, sipping something out of a coconut" Oh wait, this is the one I picked! Shit.