JANICE

JANICE

I’m sorry you never made the blog, Janice, but here you go. You’re the title of this entry!

Unfortunately, the entry will not be about you. Sorry.

No, this entry will be about No Plans Weekend, which I’ve decided to posthumously dub Last-Minute or Vague Plans, With the Exception of the Concert Which We Planned Months Ago and Just Forgot About Weekend. Here’s how it went down…

On Friday night, we visited Drew’s friend Margaret. Her mother was in town and was leaving in the morning, so we dropped off some DVDs. (They watched Fried Green Tomatoes and Drew’s secret dub of Spellbound… Shhh!) After we left there, we headed for The Grove (side note: has anyone else noticed that those electronic “Spaces Available” signs in the parking garage are TOTALLY bogus? How stupid do you think we are, The Grove?) and had dinner at Madame Wu’s. (Try the Sizzling Black Pepper Chicken — yum! The best thing about Chinese food: leftovers. The worst thing: accidentally leaving your leftovers on the table when you walk out. Yes, I felt dumb.)

On Saturday morning, we decided to go out for breakfast, and for some reason, we decided to go to Los Feliz. After some chocolate chip pancakes (me) and French toast (Drew), we headed to Best Buy, where I bought the new album from The Caesars. (The verdict: Eh. Maybe I should take them off my recommendation list from last week. “Jerk It Out” is still a great song, though.)

After leaving one home entertainment store, we headed for another, Ameoba Records. This trip was noteworthy for two reasons: one, it was Drew’s first time at Amoeba, and two, Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang were performing at noon. Gwendolyn sings a song called “Freedom of the Heart” that was featured prominently in the movie Chuck & Buck (You’d recognize it better from the chorus: “Oodily-oodily-oodily-oodily fun fun fun!!!” It has to be one of the top ten catchiest songs ever written.) When I first heard months ago that she’d be playing at Amoeba, I immediately planned to catch her show. Then I forgot all about it. But as Drew and I pulled up, the clock read 11:52 AM. We were about to see Gwendolyn without planning to go there. Win-win!

Gwendolyn seemed like a psycho.

Probably pushing 50 and with a distinct resemblance to Meredith Baxter(-Birney? I’m not sure about what surname Mrs. Keaton is using now), she was dressed in a brightly-colored little-girl skirt and pigtails, probably either in some disturbing state of arrested development or desperate to appeal to her young audience by duping them into thinking she was close to their age. After hearing a few songs about “Farm Animal Friends” and “The Selfish Shellfish” sung by Gwendolyn and her equally creepy backup band, Drew and I started browsing.

Drew bought an armload of DVDs, and I picked up a used copy of “Son of the Beach”. At one point, Gwendolyn played the opening notes of “Freedom of the Heart”, and Drew yelled “Jerry!!!” across the store to make sure I heard it. Yes, everyone at Amoeba, my boyfriend wanted to make sure I didn’t miss the performance of a song by Gwendolyn and the Good Time Gang. You got a problem with that????

Yes, I left the store with a copy of Gwendolyn’s CD, but only because Drew threatened to buy it for me if I didn’t buy it myself.

On Saturday night, Drew and I went out to dinner with Margaret and her husband Christian. We went to a steakhouse on Wilshire that I believe was called Porterhouse. I don’t want to say we were the youngest people there, but I do believe some of the other guests were present in the hospital when Bob Hope was born. (In memory of Mr. Hope, there’s a little Bob Hope-style humor for ya. Enjoy.) Margaret and Drew were terrified, which was hilarious. But for some reason, we stayed.

All the steaks were served on tilted dinner plates. When Drew asked why, the waiter explained it was something about the juices. (I still don’t get it.) A minute later, when the waiter came back with something else, Drew dared me to ask him the exact same question again. I chickened out, but later on, a different waiter came over, and I asked him about the tilted dinner plates, which might’ve been funny if I didn’t laugh in his face while he answered. I’m pretty sure the guy thought I was making fun of him, and I felt terrible. (Go ahead, hate me, but I gave him a big tip to make up for it.)

Tilted dinner plates weren’t the only thing that confused me about the restaurant. If you’re looking for a good steakhouse that also serves cotton candy, I recommend the Porterhouse. We happened to be there on a very crowded night. Half an hour after we got there, a waiter dropped a tray of plates just inside the kitchen. When we left after dinner, the mess still hadn’t been cleaned up. Waiters were just stepping over it on their way out to the dining room. (Apparently, one of the dropped plates contained some leftovers a man at the table next to ours had asked to have wrapped up. His wife grumbled that they should cook him a whole new steak to make up for it. I didn’t see how this was resolved.)

After dinner, Drew and I went home and watched “A Nightmare on Elm Street” on DVD (one of his Amoeba purchases). I had never seen it before, and it was better than I expected. We watched it in the dark, of course, and in the middle, we paused it so I could go to the bathroom (or “Visit Mr. T”, as I now say, in my neverending quest to coin new phrases). On my way back, I passed by the couch but didn’t see Drew. And that’s when he jumped out to scare me, and I SCREAMED LIKE A LITTLE GIRL. Yes, really. Picture me recoiling in fear, instinctively lifting my hands up to protect myself and squealing in terror. That’s how bad it looked, only worse than you can imagine.

It was absolutely hilarious.

Seriously, hats off to Drew, who had no idea how well his joke would work. But instead of gloating and mocking, as I no doubt would’ve, Drew felt bad and apologized profusely for freaking me out.

On Sunday night, we went to the Fountains of Wayne/Ben Lee concert (the tickets were a gift from Drew’s assistant, Bethany) at the House of Blues. Sadly, there were no Claire Danes sightings, but we did spot Jason Schwartzman, who later got up on stage and did a song with Ben. (Hey, Jason, get a haircut!) And we also spotted a certain personality formerly employed by a certain employer of a certain boyfriend of mine. And due to the potentially slanderous nature of what I’m about to say, I’ve decided to disguise the following bit of gossip as Why Jerry Why’s first blind item…

A former on-air personality for a certain music network was spotted at the House of Blues this weekend. This concertgoer, who once wanted to be a VJ and now probably does again, was spotting running up to the bar several times (being a runner-up is what he does best, apparently). He looked thin and fit in his track suit, which was surprising given that he was once as fat as ten mobile HOMES. He and Drew avoided each other all night, given an awkward history in which Drew rebuffed the now-buff music buff’s advances.

Ooh, I feel so dirty!

There was also a guy there who looked like Ashton Kutcher, but I think it was just because he was tall and thin and wearing a trucker hat.

The concert was good. We left during the encore because the band had already played all their good songs. (Might want to shuffle that set list, Fountains of Wayne.)

And then No Plans Weekend ended about as abruptly as this post.

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