Magnolia Holiday Party

I wish I had more pictures from the holiday party--I really do. It was amazing this year, per usual.

Giants Game

In December the amazing Martin worked with our new friend John to get a bunch of us tickets to the Giants/Redskins game. We got to go on the field and everything. It was amazing. We will not talk about how many different types of meat I ate this day, but it was a lot.

Since I've bee back

So, since I've been back in California I have:

1) adopted a dog that I am both allergic to and can't have in my new apartment. I've seemingly pawned it off on my parents for the time being, and they are pretending not to love her---but they do, they love her.

2) ridden nearly all the rides on the Santa Monica Pier and loved it

3) Had In-n-Out only once

4) Lost 8 lbs---thanks to you NY pizza

5) settled into my new office

6) gone to Sundance and survived

7) found a new apartment, only to have my move-in date delayed several times, leaving me in a strange limbo land, where I spend my weeknight's at my brother and sister-in-law's house and my weekends with my parents

8) dad got a pacemaker and is now doing fine---okay, yes, I put this at number 8, because I'm none to keen on it. I'm not ready for him to be mortal and if you make me think about it again I'm going to get angry. We (meaning my parents and I) are not eating many carbs, or any salt, or anything that could be viewed as "fun to eat."

9) dressed as Coco Chanel for New Year's Eve

10) I still don't know what to do with that damn dog

I guess that pretty much gets us up to speed. The Next few posts are just pics that I haven't posted yet that will catch us up on the past few months.

Fantastic Fest 2010

If there is one festival that I don't want to miss for the rest of my film career, it's Fantastic Fest. It's in Austin, TX and it's basically the best thing that ever happened to me. Austin is an amazing food town. Day one--we stand in line for tickets, and then headed over to Torchy's Tacos for breakfast tacos. I have Rene R. in Los Angeles to thank for this recommend. Breakfast tacos were amazing.

There was a lot of eating done at the Alamo Drafthouse, where you can't take pictures of the food cause there is movies playing, but everything is delicious. The fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, the shakes, the pizzas....everything is good. A friend had mac and cheese and it looked awesome. Needless to say, I gained some weight in Austin.

The last day there we went to Gordo's---home of the most amazing donuts. Above is a picture of the bacon/maple donut. It was---in a word---heaven. If calories didn't exist and my hips weren't expanding at an exasperating rate, I would eat one of these every week, and then feel like I am going to die.

Okay, I know there is swearing..but c'mon, this is great

Ray LaMontagne's been there

Daddy's new babies

These are the neighborhood raccoons that my dad has adopted in lieu of his turtle. I don't think they are supposed to be pets. Also, I know that they will eat anything, but I'm not sure it's a good idea to actually feed them m&m's by the bag-full. These little guys will soon be diabetic.

Going back-back to Cali-Cali

Yep, you heard it right. I'm moving back to LA. Farewell NY, hello LA. Goodbye humidity, snow, and streets that are so dirty they turn your feet black when you walk around in flip-flops. Hello sand and sun and driving my own car and turning up the radio and singing as loud as I want. Farewell subway!

Little wins

Today was, let me just call a spade a spade, a total shittastrophe. I stole that phrase or word, whatever you want to call it from a man who sat next to me on a plan that was delayed for hours on the ground on one end, and then had to circle forever on the other end, and finally what was supposed to be 5 hours of my life turned into 10 hours. Me and this man went the entire flight and never said anything to each other, but the minute we touched down and made it to the gate and started to stand up he just said, "Well that was a shittastrophe." And all I could say was, "Did you just make that up?" He said, "I think I did." And I said, "Well, I'm taking it."
So yes, today was a shittastrophe. After weeks, okay, months, of thinking that I have Celiac because when a man happened to be rooting around in my small intestine he said it "looked" like I have celiac...and thinking "better safe than sorry" living my life without wheat (okay, for the most part, okay, for some of the part---okay, for at least 2 meals a day) I finally find out today that it's not the case. Not that my doctor would ever call me back with the test results. Nope---I had to commit to stalking. Not even mild stalking---like 2 phone calls a day stalking. Finally today I get the most Russian administrative person in the world who says, "What's your name?" (think really heavy Russian accent. Think Boris and Natasha. Think "this bitch is probably holding a chilled glass of vodka in her hand right now and wearing a big, fur hat")
I say, "Arianne Ayers, and I'm very concerned that I haven't heard back from the doctor. I've left several messages, I've emailed, and I'm afraid I can't get off this phone until I know if I can eat gluten."
"Okay, be hanging on" she slurs. (Don't fault me here, Russians sound like they are slurring sometimes)
I'm on hold for, no lie, 10 minutes.
"Hello?"
"Yes," I say, "I'm still here.....waiting..to see if bread is my friend."
"Doctor no pick up yet?"
"No, no doctor has picked up."
"What your name?"
So, I repeat my name and she gets my chart.
"You are fine, goodbye."
"No! Wait, do I have celiac? I need to know!!!!!!"
"Hold on," Natasha says. Actually Natasha makes her sound like a sexy Russian, which I am sure she is not, so let's call her Helga or Olga. Olga!
No lie, on hold for another 10 minutes.
"Okay, Miss Ayers. You do not have the syllabus."
"What? Is this a college course? What do you mean syllabus?"
"You," and now she's frustrated, "do not have syllables."
"What? Syllables?"
"Whatever that thing you are worrying about, you don't have. Goodbye." And she hangs up.

Needless to say, I am not feeling satisfied by this diagnosis.

The only thing that cooled my anger slightly was when Dana put on her tutu and danced around the office, saying in a Russian accent, "YOU DO NOT HAVE SYLLABLES."

I hate Olga.

Then off to complete my 2-day if-you-got-robbed-in-a-foreign-country-and-have-an-emergency-passport-and-would-like-to-get-a-new-one-no-one-will-help-you-nightmare. Ugly passport photos? Check. Old passport that somehow made me look like a supermodel and which I hate to be giving up? Check. Special passport form? Check. Check? Check.
I need to expedite this passport, so I need the paperwork to be there tomorrow. I apparently put it in the wrong envelope to get it there tomorrow and the woman behind the window at the post office on 31st street has just been waiting all day to make someone look foolish. Now that someone is me. "Well, somebody put this in the wrong envelope!" She was yelling this and everyone in line was looking at me. You know what, they can snicker all they want, because those different types of envelopes are confusing to someone who basically exclusively uses Fedex in their daily life.
I correct my error and go back to the window. She yells again, "If someone needs their passport expedited then SOMEONE needs to write expedite on the envelope!"
"Okay, really? Cause now you're just being mean. It doesn't say that anywhere!" I was kind of surprised I had the guts to say anything.
"How do you think they are going to know to expedite it?"
"Um, because there are two different PO Boxes listed on here, one for expedited passports and one for regular passports and one for passports that need to be expedited, so I assumed that putting the right PO box on there would clear everything up!"
"You think they're gonna figure that out?" At this point, and not to be racist, but she might has well have added Honey-Chile to the end of her sentence---and not in a sweet way either. In a completely "I'm talking down to you" and demeaning way.
I resisted the urge to say, "Oh, you're right. It's a government agency, why would I expect any intelligence?" If I had said that she probably would have set my package on fire right there---ooh, and tampering with the mail is a federal offense, so she would have gone to jail! Damn, missed my chance.

After those two experiences, pretty much everything felt like heaven. Oh, I made it home before dark, amazing. Oh, I got the DVD player to work right away, awesome. Only one roach? Sublime. A Brita filter full of cold water? Amazing!

Okay, not everything after that was amazing. I still can't sleep. Boo. I would definitely take a sleepless night over dealing with either of those two ladies again...ever.

Comedy of Ayers

If I ever take the time to write down my life story, that will be the title, "A Comedy of Ayers." Why? Well, things just seem to happen in my life. I don't want to laugh at them at the time, but later all I can think is "really? really? could that happen to anyone but me?"
Let's start with last week's running debacle. I decide that in all this triathlon fun I'll try to run with the running club that leaves from the running store at Columbus Circle and runs through the park twice a week. One of those times is on Monday night. Let's take into account that last Sunday was the NY City Marathon. Many people from that running club happened to participate in the marathon. Let me tell you, that if I ever run 26.whatever miles, I will not be running the next day, nor the next week. In fact, if I ever run that far I'm certain that it will be because the world has gone all 2012 on me and I'm staying just ahead of the cracks in the earth's crust. Even then I would probably just give up and be like, "Its my time" unless maybe I was holding a baby...but it would have to be my baby and I would have to be saving it for what I knew was a good life, cause if the world goes funky I am not saving my baby to be hunted by crazies who want to eat it like in The Road.
Anyway, needless to say, these runners who are running the day after the marathon are hardcore.
I show up and sign in and ask, "I'm like a real beginner. I can barely run...am I going to be way behind or horribly out of place, cause you can tell me if I am. I can take it."
"No," says the incredibly fit black dude, "you'll be just fine. This is for all levels."
Here's the long and short of it, even though there is a pacer in the back for the "slow" people, I still fall behind and get lost in the park (and this is not my fault, this is the fault of the park for being confusing and the fault of NY for making me so reliant on street numbers). So lost that I end up about 20 blocks north of where I'm supposed to be. I'm supposed to be on the "lower loop"---like that means anything to me. Fearing another trip through the maze that is Central Park at night, I decide to walk around the park, down the East side from 95th to 60th St and across Central Park South back to Columbus Circle.
I walk into the store and am instantly greeted by 4 panicked pacers. "What happened?" "We were so worried!" "You should have told us you were slow." (F U) "Do you want a water? Powerade? Grape? They are free."
"No thank you," I say, trying to hide the fear of being lost in the park, the shame of being slow and getting lost, the frustration that my first few triathlon training experiences aren't going smoothly, and about a trillion other emotions, "I'll just take my bag if that's okay (they run a bag check there too)."
"We're so sorry," says the blond who wore shorts even though its in the high thirties.
"Bag please."
"See, look at the map, we were on the lower loop."
"Yes, its all very clear, ON A MAP! IN THE LIGHT!"
"You look upset."
"Bag please," I ask again.
"Are you sure you don't want me to show you on the map?"
"No thanks, just the bag, " now my voice is strained and trembling.
"Are you sure you don't want a Powerade? Grape is my favorite!"
And at this point I'm just about to tell peppy-Mc-runs-a-lot that I don't give two craps about her favorite Powerade flavor. I hope that you all choke on your Powerades...leaving people in Central Park! I could have been raped!
Instead I burst into tears.
"I just want my BAG!!!!!!!!!"
Yep, I think the combination of tears and screaming got my point across. She hands me my backpack and I leave, embarrassed beyond belief, and I vow to never see any of those people ever again.
I'm more of an alone runner anyway.

A Happier You

A Happier You

By Eckhart Tolle

The greatest goal you can set this year is to make peace with your life, no matter your circumstances. These 10 powerful insights from Eckhart Tolle will get you started.

1. Don't seek happiness. If you seek it, you won't find it, because seeking is the antithesis of happiness. Happiness is ever elusive, but freedom from unhappiness is attainable now, by facing what is rather than making up stories about it.
   
   
2. The primary cause of unhappiness is never the situation but your thoughts about it. Be aware of the thoughts you are thinking. Separate them from the situation, which is always neutral, which always is as it is. There is the situation or the fact, and here are my thoughts about it. Instead of making up stories, stay with the facts. For example, "I am ruined" is a story. It limits you and prevents you from taking effective action. "I have 50 cents left in my bank account" is a fact. Facing facts is always empowering.
   
   
3. See if you can catch the voice in your head, perhaps in the very moment it complains about something, and recognize it for what it is: the voice of the ego, no more than a thought. Whenever you notice that voice, you will also realize that you are not the voice, but the one who is aware of it. In fact, you are the awareness that is aware of the voice. In the background, there is the awareness. In the foreground, there is the voice, the thinker. In this way you are becoming free of the ego, free of the unobserved mind.
   
   
4. Wherever you look, there is plenty of circumstantial evidence for the reality of time—a rotting apple, your face in the bathroom mirror compared with your face in a photo taken 30 years ago—yet you never find any direct evidence, you never experience time itself. You only ever experience the present moment.
   
   
5. Why do anxiety, stress, or negativity arise? Because you turned away from the present moment. And why did you do that? You thought something else was more important. One small error, one misperception, creates a world of suffering.
   
   
6. People believe themselves to be dependent on what happens for their happiness. They don't realize that what happens is the most unstable thing in the universe. It changes constantly. They look upon the present moment as either marred by something that has happened an d shouldn't have or as deficient because of something that has not happened but should have. And so they miss the deeper perfection that is inherent in life itself, a perfection that lies beyond what is happening or not happening. Accept the present moment and find the perfection that is untouched by time.
   
   
7. The more shared past there is in a relationship, the more present you need to be; otherwise, you will be forced to relive the past again and again.
   
   
8. Equating the physical body with "I," the body that is destined to grow old, wither, and die, always leads to suffering. To refrain from identifying with the body doesn't mean that you no longer care for it. If it is strong, beautiful, or vigorous, you can appreciate those attributes—while they last. You can also improve the body's condition through nutrition and exercise. If you don't equate the body with who you are, when beauty fades, vigor diminishes, or the body becomes incapacitated, this will not affect your sense of worth or identity in any way. In fact, as the body begins to weaken, the light of consciousness can shine more easily.
   
   
9. You do not become good by trying to be good, but by finding the goodness that is already within you and allowing that goodness to emerge.
   
   
10. If peace is really what you want, then you will choose peace.
    

Exerpted from Oneness with All Life by Eckhart Tolle. Published by arrangement with Dutton, a member of Penguin Group ( USA), Inc. Copywright © 2008 by Eckhart Tolle

Snowboarding

Sometimes gifts aren't really gifts...you think they are, but they kind of aren't. For N's Christmas present I learned to snowboard...sort of, if taking one lesson really counts as learning. It was a big deal though. I had to take the bus to the Catskills, pay for a class, rent a board, the whole 9. So, I considered myself a snowboarder after that, except that I really wasn't. Not only did I ruin the surprise of the gift before Christmas (don't ask) I was a complete handful when N, his friends, his brother and I headed down the mountain. It wasn't pretty. Now, I'm not the most coordinated person to begin with and every experience that has begin with me going faster than I'm comfortable has ended with a trip to the hospital or the emergency dentist or with just plain getting hurt...and I don't really care much for any of those things. Not a fan of ice, or trees, or being told what to do, or feeling out of control, or of bugs--and though that doesn't really apply in this situation I just thought I would throw it in for future reference. Point being, snowboarding begins with a lot of these things, and just keeps getting better (sarcastically) or worse (realistically) the more times you fall down the mountain.
Sidenote--why do so many male country singers have names that start with K? Weird.
At the end of the first day I was pretty sure that N would have rather gotten a nice sweater, or even a pair of jeans, hell, even a nice blender, or even a lean mean grilling machine.
The next day we took a day off, cause I can play in snow, I can walk around in it--sometimes, but remind me to tell you about my nice little trip down the stairs as I was leaving for the airport on the 24th of Dec.
Day three we decided to head back up, and this time his brother stayed with me, and by the end of the day I actually showed signs of improvement.
Now, I don't want people to think that I'm a quitter, so I gotta keep going. In a couple weeks me and a bunch of nice ladies are planning a trip, so, ya know, that should be fun, or not.
Next year, gift certificates for everyone.
Wow, not even the energy to fake a smile. Nice Arianne, nice.

The Vendy Awards

Last Saturday Nick and his family and I went to the Vendy Awards. You can read all about them here, but trust that I consumed nearly every food available. It was a delicious, delicious day. I believe I will be making this a yearly tradition.
Nick thinks its funny that the logo is a hot dog fighting a taco...he's a sick man.

That Teenage Feeling

"That Teenage Feeling"

Now that we've met
We can only laugh at these regrets
Common as a winter cold
They're telephone poles
They follow each other
One, after another, after another
But now my heart is green as weeds
Grown to outlive their season

And nothing comforts me the same
As my brave friend who says,
"I don't care if forever never comes
'Cause I'm holding out for that teenage feeling
I'm holding out for that teenage feeling"

All the loves we had
All we ever knew
Did they fill me with so many secrets
That keep me from loving you
'Cause it's hard, hard

(disclaimer--I couldn't find a video for this song where the sound was halfway decent besides this one)

Kimmy came to visit!

One day I ate until I puked...that was fun.

Recipes--catching up--Chocolate Peanut Butter Madness

Okay, I've made a lot of delicious things lately, but I haven't had time to post the pictures and recipes here--well, I'm doing it. That's it.

For Farihah's birthday I made her a Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Cake
I'm wary of any recipe that calls for a boxed cake mix, but this turned out to be one of the most delicious cakes ever. I'll be making it again and again. The only challenge was putting the peanut butter cups on the outside, because when you first pour on the frosting it's very runny, so it was a watching and waiting and putting the cake in the fridge game until the frosting firmed up a bit.

Let's be honest, I'm no food photographer, but I was inspired by Bakerella and her (much better) pictures of the same cake.

Peanut Butter Fudge Cake

Ingredients

• 1 box (18.25 ounces) devil's food
• cake mix
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 2 cups chopped chocolate-covered peanut butter cups (about 8 ounces), plus more to garnish
• 8 ounces dark chocolate, chopped
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup creamy peanut butter

Directions

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Coat two 9-inch round cake pans with nonstick cooking spray. Line with waxed paper; coat paper.

2. In a large bowl, beat cake mix, eggs, buttermilk and vegetable oil on low for 30 seconds. Increase speed to medium-high; beat for 2 minutes, scraping down side of the bowl after 1 minute. Fold in 2 cups of the chopped peanut butter cups.

3. Divide batter between prepared pans. Bake at 350 degrees F for about 34 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let layers cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes. Turn out cakes onto wire racks and cool completely.

4. Place chopped dark chocolate in a medium-size bowl. Bring cream just to a boil and pour over chocolate. Whisk until chocolate melts. Add peanut butter and whisk until smooth.

5. Trim top of cake layers flat with a serrated knife. Put 1 cake layer on cooling rack and place on a baking sheet. Pour 1 cup frosting on top; spread evenly with a spatula. Top with remaining cake layer. Pour remaining frosting over the top, allowing it to spill over the sides. Smooth top and sides with spatula. Refrigerate 1 hour to set. Transfer cake to serving plate and garnish with chopped candy, if desired.

Flight of the Conchords

Rachel Ray

Is a bitch! You can tell by looking at her.
And I recently got it on very good authority that she is indeed the worst woman in the world.
I just wanted to share that.

The 21 Club

We had our party for our latest big film at the 21 Club in NY.
You can read all about the history of the 21 Club here, but I've always wanted to go there.
Now, because it was a big event and they were serving tons of people, I won't judge the food from that experience. Don't get me wrong, the steak was great and really rare, but everything else was just okay.
Here's a picture of Danielle and I there and a picture of the profiterole I had for desert.

Donkey Punch

What's the only thing better than working on a movie called Donkey Punch???? Appearing in a scenario where you get to pretend to donkey punch the director. He doesn't look afraid enough.