A funny thing happened on the way to the Grammys

I left for California on Thursday, literally one day after my bed and mattress got delivered to Horatio. So I got one night to sleep at my new place before taking off for my Grammy weekend.

Saturday night was the Nominee's reception at the Wilshire Ebell Theater. That's my favorite party on Grammy weekend as it's just for the nominees and their guests as opposed to any one with $400 for a ticket and a crush on Justin Timberlake or Taylor Swift. I got dressed up in my one black cocktail dress by Randolph Duke and my friend Thom and I had a great time.

When we got home, Chris Wrobleski came over to deliver the paisley hand-made bowtie and teach me how to tie it. After a LOT of practice, I felt confident that I could get it right and went to bed.

The next day, Kris Evans came by at 10 am to help me with my makeup and Thom and I set out to pick up Aimee and head over to the pre-telecast which began at 1pm. Our award was the fifth one announced (out of a gazillion) so the torture was thankfully abbreviated. We did not win the Grammy. We were Bjorked. So we busted a move out of the pre-telecast since none of us were too invested in who won best Children's record or Best Latin Jazz record or the hundreds of other technical awards.

We went to eat at Mess Hall for a Loser's Lunch and, in a tear in the fabric of the time-space continuum,  I even had a drink.

Thom and I dropped Aimee off and we headed back to Staples Center to see the main event. This was my fourth Grammy show and while I've learned that there's really no flow to the show because it's devised for television, I wanted to see Jack White and Frank Ocean.
We were driving down Hillhurst and turned left to get on the 101 when there was a piercing sound unlike anything I'd ever heard and the car lurched and stopped 20 feet from the entrance ramp. Thom turned to me, "Are you OK?" "Yes, I'm OK? You?" Once we determined that we were ok, we got out of the car to see that the entire WHEEL fell off the axle of Thom's Jaguar. Thom got on the phone to the insurance company for roadside assistance. I was already resigned to missing the show and going home to play Scramble with Friends, when a toothless guy came along and told us that there was a tow truck/garage place up the street. Thom explains to me that we're not in the greatest neighborhood as I'm sitting there in bowtie and tuxedo, he rolls up the window. While he's on the phone with the insurance people, a big brand new Dodge 350 Ram tow truck shows up in front of us. A super cheerful guy hops out of the truck and asks us if we need help. We do. He tells us that the guy who washes his vehicles at his garage up the block let him know that there was a car in distress. He surveys the damage and tells us how lucky we are that this didn't happen going 50 mph on the 101. THAT would have resulted in the car hitting the median and rolling over... he tells us we should always look at the positive side.
He hooks up the car to the tow truck and takes it over to his garage which is less than half a mile away. He takes a look at us and says "Were you going to the Grammys?" We reply "Yes." And like an angel sent from heaven he says, "I'll take you there because that's what friends do".  We exchange cards and as he hands Thom his card, he explains that his name isn't on it. So he writes it on the card. His name is Erik Estrada. Erik Estrada! I am not joking.
So Thom and I arrived at the Grammy's in a tow truck driven by Erik Estrada. If we were drunk and wasted and fell out of the truck upon arrival, we could have been Edina and Patsy. Just my kind of entrance.
We missed Taylor Swift and got there just in time to hear Elton John and Ed Sheeran sing the "The A Team". The show was pretty good. Jack White's performance was the highlight and I was completely tickled that his feedback lasted into Katy Perry's introduction (she handled it well) and the techies were scrambling to rip cords out of amplifiers to make it stop.

Meanwhile, back on Horatio:

Almost done! Time to decorate soon....

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Renovation is tricky business.  While I am deflated about the current state of the bathroom, I feel enormously successful in the main space this week. On Friday, the crackerjack team from The Shade Company arrived exactly on time to install the new motorized shades. Here they are removing the green fabric balloon shades (sayonara!):

And my friend, Steven Hammel, a ridiculously talented artist came over to review the "perfected brick" situation and return on the weekend to work his magic. Perhaps you think my obsession with the brick is a bit nutty but I can only explain it with a quote from Margaret Kilgallen.

 Margaret Kilgallen, a fantastic illustrator who left us too soon, said this:

I like things that are handmade and I like to see people's hand in the world, anywhere in the world; it doesn't matter to me where it is. And in my own work, I do everything by hand. I don't project or use anything mechanical, because even though I do spend a lot of time trying to perfect my line work and my hand, my hand will always be imperfect because it's human. And I think it's the part that's off that's interesting, that even if I'm doing really big letters and I spend a lot of time going over the line and over the line and trying to make it straight, I'll never be able to make it straight. From a distance it might look straight, but when you get close up, you can always see the line waver. And I think that's where the beauty is.

I, too, am comforted by the "part that's off." So I had Steven bring back what the original brick would have looked like had it not been repainted and re-grouted. 

Here's how that went. First, he chose a color palette and I thought it was beautiful:

Then he put a dirty wash over all the brick, mainly to deal with coloring the grout (I, of course, thought even that looked better than what was there):

Then he went to work on the brick:

And by Sunday at 2pm he was finished with the two walls.

When we took down the TV and shelves so Steven could work on the brick, I was immediately happier. I detest having the TV as a focal point of the room and now that the brick looked so beautiful, I realized that the space above the fireplace mantle should have a beautiful piece of art and not a dumb TV. That being said, I gave the TV to a good friend who needed one and bought a smaller set to go on a pivot mount in the nook between the fireplace and west facing windows, right in front of the bed:

Here's what I had (and it was mounted too high up anyway):

And here's the mantle now:

This is also the time of the renovation that everyone just wants to be out. The paper was starting to get torn up from wear and the floor was starting to get filthy.

So while Steven worked and we chatted, I tightened that sh*t up. You don't want to refinish floors only to have them trashed by a construction crew.

I also had a chance to replace the cabinet knobs. Another sigh of relief:

You can see the new kitchen light, backsplash and faucet. And here's the new hallway light:

Steven also changed the color of the lintels so that it looks like a big piece of concrete was shoved up above the window. That color also perfectly matches the shades. Here it is in progress:

Here it is with the west wall completed:

And finally, cue the James Bond music, here are the shades in action. Excuse the shaky camera work; I could not contain my excitement :)

Onward.