Weekend Wrap Up: There’s No Place Like Home

I keep hearing in my head, “This weekend has been brought to you by Hasbro, the makers of Clue.” No soiree at a millionaire mogul’s mansion. No murders, revolvers or billiard rooms. Just giant mysteries I apparently love to solve again and again. First, the mystery of Long Beach. Why have I never danced to the Jim Jones track We Fly High and faked a basketball shot into the air at the lyric Ballin’? Is it possible I have not been living up until that moment? It’s possible but mind you while trying to figure that out, the moment was interrupted. This handsome couple (that must have been tourists!) almost from out of nowhere broke into a fight and words started flying. I ducked under a “nasty bitch” and a “you should of” before finding shelter. I didn’t want to click my heels, and I didn’t want to go home – but that’s where I woke up.

I made an appointment to view an apartment in Brentwood Saturday afternoon. Isn’t the market supposed to be at an all time low? Apparently, the mystery continues and someone is clearly out to complicate my venturous plans. Overpriced and mysteriously missing square footage. If that town could stop using my name, that would be great. If my lawyer wasn’t busy being snarky I’d totally have him place a call. All that could save the day was time traveling back to when I was twelve, hustling over some miniature golf and arcade games. I almost got somewhere with this one arcade goer. Blue Eyes unknowingly (or knowingly?!) cut through my heart and sent coins down a slot attached to a giant wheel covered in numbers. Top prize = 1,000 tickets. As the wheel spun, the crowd formed and Blue Eyes calmly blinked. Fixed on the prize, I couldn’t fight the smile stretched across my face. Apparently 1,000 tickets soon thereafter laid across the floor but of course that’s not the prize I’m writing about.

The mysteries continued on Sunday as well. I’m sure there’s a ton of sayings that describe something starting off so epically right, then ending up so fucking annoyingly wrong. You tell me how the combination of bagels (with egg, cheese AND bacon!), watching Harold and Kumar escape from Guantanamo Bay, getting to tour Ronald Reagan’s Air Force One, blaring Whitney Houston hits (pre-crack) down the PCH, and a perfectly temperatured walk/apartment hunt in Santa Monica can end in such travesty? Does anyone have a clue? It was totally Brent Burns, with a MacBook Pro in the conservatory wasn’t it?! Relevant remix reward, below.

MP3: I Like The Way You Move by Outkast

MP3: Qué Onda Guero by Beck

MP3: Sea Lion Woman (Chromeo Remix) by Feist

MP3: Parts and Accessories by Josh Rouse

MP3: 2-1 by Imogen Heap

MP3: Long As I Can See The Light by Creedence Clearwater Revival

MP3: How Will I Know by Whitney Houston