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Sunday, March 7, 2004 - 2:16 p.m.

Scenes from L.A., Part 3

Casey has a new favorite Notre Dame basketball player: The Hobbit. That was her (welcome) contribution during an afternoon at O�Brien�s watching Notre Dame-UCLA basketball with the crowd otherwise split � two ND grads in Heather and myself, two Bruins in Lauren and Jessica.

Because an afternoon at the bar sometimes just isn�t enough, we returned that evening to kick off the festivities. Just as I was about to get into the front seat of the cab after the girls had settled in the back, I realized someone just down the street was calling to me. "Did you call for a cab?" a woman asked.

"Yeah, we did," I replied as I opened the door. A guy was walking a few steps behind her, and about four other people were also standing outside the apartment building.

"Are you sure?" I heard the guy ask as I shut the door and we drove off.

"No, we just happened to walk out of our building and into a waiting cab," Heather snarked.

"Yeah, like six of you could fit into a car," Lauren said. "They need a van anyway."

After a $30 cab ride that, we�re told, normally costs around $20, we discussed writing The Angry Letter, but I couldn�t remember the driver�s name, not knowing that I should take note. I think it was Sivnet or something Eastern European.

I�ll just say this about the intelligence of USC fans: A license plate on an SUV in a Santa Monica parking lot abbreviated the Trojans� nickname. It�s not a stretch to think that TROJANS is already taken in the state of California. Various abbreviations are probably also nabbed. Yet do you have to be so lame to resort to a flat-out misspelling � TRJONS? What makes it even more pathetic is the license plate frame that says "USC" above the plate and "TROJANS" below, pointing out the mistake. To that I simply say: HA!

There�s really not much more I can say about Heather�s big purchase that she hasn�t covered already, but I will point out that her new kitchen appliance in no way is related to my excuse for not updating, as one person speculated. The poisoning is an excuse offered by a Dynasty character when his girlfriend of the week accused him of calling her a different name during a makeout session. I am not making this up.

When filling out my Oscar pool sheets, I considered The Lord of the Rings in every category for which it was nominated, but when you�ve checked it off five, six, seven times, you start to think, "Well, it�s not going to win everything it�s nominated for." Of course, that thinking works in most years, but this was a boring year. No surprises. Except in my two Oscar pool results: 11 in the California one, 13 at work. It took 20 correct picks to win in L.A., 23 to win at work, where second place had 21 and two more had 20 right.

But we still had fun correcting others� sheets and bragging when we had 3 out of 3 or 4 out of 5 correct, a mere 90 minutes into the show. While I didn�t feel full-on hatred for Billy Crystal, I did think his scripted opening was lame but thought his live comments through the rest of the broadcast were pretty funny. Of course, on television, he wasn�t allowed to comment, out loud, that Ian McKellen appeared to be wearing a rape whistle around his neck or that a shot of four Lord of the Rings actors nodding in approval after their movie�s clip was shown prompted a "four out of four Hobbits agree" observation at our party. That�s what makes it so much fun.

Everyone in L.A. drives. Public transportation will help you out a little in some areas, but considering the city is really a county consisting of four-floor apartment buildings stretching for miles rather than a dense collection of high-rise dwellings, people will just have to drive everywhere. Like Jeff, my mom�s cousin who picked us up Monday morning, drove us downtown to the Fashion Institute of Design and Marketing or whatever it is, then chauffeured us from one end of the county to the other on Sunset and Hollywood out to Westwood and Bel Air. After driving by the bungalow where O.J. killed Nicole, we crawled in traffic from Santa Monica back through Beverly Hills to the apartment.

Dinner Monday night could only be one thing for me: In-N-Out. I fell in love with the double double, even after a 20-minute ride back to the apartment. A quick zap in the microwave rejuvenated it without ruining it and I can now see what all the talk is about.

On the trip, Casey mentioned her sister again by nickname, Bassett.

"What do you call your sister?" Lauren asked.

"Bassett," Casey replied, explaining the derivation of the pseudonym.

"Oh, that�s better," Lauren said. "It sounded like you were saying Asshat. �I love your sister Asshat.�"

Back to the burgers � in no way do I think that the Yankees� Jason Giambi dropped his alleged seven pounds by quitting In-N-Out cold turkey, as he alleged at the start of spring training. Unless one of the secret menu items is a steroid burger, he gave up more than In-N-Out this offseason and has dropped 27 pounds if he�s lost 7.

We finished our vacation with a night in around the broken coffee table playing Trivial Pursuit, smacking faces on wine glasses, and gleaning more than trivial knowledge from the answers.

*

"As always, we�re orange," Casey said when selecting playing pieces.

"What color should we be?" Lauren asked.

"You guys should be poo brown," Casey suggested.

"Oh my god!" Heather exclaimed. "I�ve always wanted to be the Cleveland Browns. We have really low self esteem!"

*

HEINER GILLMEISTER!

I drink to your health when I�m with you,
I drink to your health when I�m alone,
I drink to your health so often,
I�m starting to worry about my own!

� A traditional Irish toast

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