eggstatic about 2009!

i love 2009.  ah…2009. those four numbers have a lovely ring to it, don’t they?  and just like my brand-spanking-new super-sized, i’m-so-hollywood chloe sunglasses, the new year feels like it has so much potential for unfettered awesomeness.

supersized awesomeness in '09

and let’s be honest…it can’t be that hard as 2008 kinda stunk.

you see, coco is a hopeless optimist. i thought 2008 would be the year to beat all years.  i believed that madonna and guy ritchie would make it. i thought i’d lose those pesky 10 5 pounds that make my thighs look scarier than a monster from an old godzilla movie.  and  i truly thought that it was my destiny to bump into david beckham at the grove…literally “bump” into him like all the ingénues do in romantic comedies when they encounter ‘him’.  and then he’d send me a little van cleefs set as they matched my big eyes sunglasses.

he had me at "van cleefs"

but alas, madonna left guy,  i still have mothra thighs,  and i’m still van cleef-less. thanks for nothing, 2008!

yet, when i look back to 2008’s trials and tribulations, i have to say that those pesky 12 months might have been good for the coco.  losing my job last march meant being vulnerable and scared…two things i’ve never been really good at.  learning that ‘the one that was supposed to be forever’ got married to someone else meant finally mourning the loss of love so that new chapters could be written.  and while being told by my doctor that i’m of “an advanced reproductive age” made me want to rip her ovaries out and stamp on them,  it also made me finally start thinking seriously about a mommy.

so, while i may have lost a few paychecks and A LOT of viable eggs along the way, i seemed to have somehow gained a smidge of perspective in the good-ole naught eight.

and perspective weighs less than muscle, right?  yey!

happy belated new year y’all and here’s to a wonderful year ahead!

dear silly frat guy…

dear silly frat guy

clearly drunk and possibly high

trying to drop trow in my hood

peeing in public you wished you could

but hells no not on my street

cuz walking in urine isn’t a treat

really…in front of my face?

please go find a better place

so if i see you again whizzing al fresco

you best not argue with the coco

cuz i’ll record you mid-pee

and post it on youtube and tmz!

it’s sasha, b*tch

those who know me can attest to the fact that i’m the original obama girl. but after four great years of unwavering barack-worship, i’m kinda done. yes, there’s a new object of my affection.

i’m in love with the sasha.

it's sasha, b*tch

crazier than george w. during his coke years and feistier than howard “yeahhhh!” dean after his iowa loss, sasha obama has it going on. and it’s only a matter of time before we find out she’s the real brains behind the operation. in between play dates and pokemon, sasha’s been busy vetting veep choices, planning the withdrawl from iraq and designing a bouncy castle for the rose garden. screw nap time–sasha has to focus on world domination…and installing a water slide in the reflecting pool.

it's a sasha world. i just let you live in it.

over the years, we’ve been entertained/bored/embarrassed by our president’s spawn, most notably:

amy "snooze" carter

and

sox "i did not have sexual relations" the cat

and

drunkardson twins activate!

other than the drunkardson twins, we’ve been given snoozefest after snoozefest. but move over first families…we’ve got a new kid in town. and she’s gonna be fierce!

dontcha wish your jenna and barbara were hot like me?

so when i rock the vote for obama in november, i’m really doing it for the sasha.

do what i say, daddy, and nobody gets hurt

and trust me…if you don’t, she’s gonna hunt you down on her big wheel and make you listen to the cheetah girls until you break.

happy friday and don’t forget to register to vote, y’all!

i can has hoomanz court?

howdie y’all. it’s been ages since i wrote something other than a cover letter or an unemployment claim. and while it’s kinda neat to be a statistic, representing 1 of 467,300 laid-off californians has provided me with a remarkable lack of writing inspiration. it did, however, provide ample time to acquire a few new hobbies.

1) THE PEOPLE’S COURT. this isn’t your mom’s people court, y’all. move over judge wapner and los angeles. the 2008 version is filled with CRAZAY new yorkers who willingly choose to be humiliated on national tv by a judge who’s just like that super mean-but-hot junior high teacher who scared the hell out of you.

not only is the new people’s court good television..it’s also a great form of therapy. if you can’t feel good about yourself after watching trainwreck after trainwreck get ripped to shreds by judge Marilyn Milian, you are probably beyond hope.

2) LOLCATS. let’s be honest. i think i have the crazy cat lady gene in me. i’m probably one PETCO adoption day and two unemployment checks away from realizing my crazy-cat-lady-in-a-trailer destiny. the good news is that i’ve found another way to get my feline fix without spending my entire severance on kitty litter: LOLCATS. this phenomenon of linking cute kitty kitteh pictures with urban/internet misspeak is better than a doublewide trailer with cat flaps. who needs gainful employment when you have free entertainment like this?!

3) professional audience member. one of the best things about being laid off in hollywood is that you’re not alone in being job-challenged. at any given time, 98.9% of its residents are both unemployed and drinking caffeinated, soy-based beverages at the Coffee Bean. i figured that if i was going to be starving, i might as well be a starving artist. and by artist, i mean paid audience member. my resume now boasts 2 episodes each on DEAL OR NO DEAL and a certain late night talk show that has a guy with a scottish accent that i’m forbidden to name. and while i think i could hear my mom and grad school professors weeping at each clap cue, at least these gigs succeeded in keeping me away from PETCO.

so as i get ready to mail my last unemployment claim (yes, mom, i finally found a ‘real’ job), i can’t help but feel a little verklempt to say goodbye to my new hobbies. indeed, these weren’t just guilty pleasures…they managed to tickle my funny bone during some not-so-funny times.

so if you find yourself here…

don’t worry your pretty little head. just remember that they may be able take your job away…

but you can ALWAYS has cheezburger.

happy summer y’all!

they call it bunny love

i’m no stranger to crime. coco lived adjacent to the nation’s capitol during:

(1) the reign of mayor marion “the bitch set me up” barry

(2) the crack cocaine epidemic

(3) and the most shocking crime against humanity: mc hammer pants .

so you can imagine that west hollywood is quite a change from the mean streets of DC. in stark contrast with our capitol’s penchant for murdering and crack-whoring, weho’s weekly crime reports are usually filled with misdemenors like, “according to the victim, the perpetrator wore a brown belt WITH black shoes in non-compliance with West Hollywood’s fashion code” or “a fight ensued after a mid-thirties, totally taut and spray-tanned man fought with a cross-gendered person (age unknown) over the last box of organic granola at Whole Foods”. indeed, the 90069 isn’t what you’d call ‘compton’.

or is it?

in the wee small hours of thursday, february 22nd, some mean-spirited bunny hater stole bunny’s license plates. both of them.

and just to add insult to injury, they broke her cute little antenna, too.

but break her spirit? never.

after two side swipes, a rear-end collision, and a hit-and-run in less than 17 months, bunny has had just about enough of the drama. we hoped the additon of (1) my confirmation st mary medal and (2) a st. christopher “protector of the highways” visor medal (both blessed by roman catholic father dudes for extra-strength god protection) would be her salvation…

but after the latest violation, we’re gonna have to call in the big guns…

if god can’t ward off the negative karma, i have no other option but employ a creepy, saccarine-sweet license plate frame. if you want the bunny love, you got to respect the bunny. it’s just that simple.

so if you see bunny and i hopping around the weho all pimped out with her new license plate bling, show her some love and respect. y’all. and by love and respect, i mean don’t hit or steal from her.

and just so we represent old-school style, bunny’s also got a good luck song:

here’s to peace, love and bunnies, y’all!

schmeer campaign

west hollywood is an amazing community. i mean, really, how can you NOT love a city with a 90069 zipcode and phallic zoning?! move over 90210…you’re so 1992.

every inch of its 1.9 square miles is filled with beautiful architecture, lush flora and friendly neighbors who bid you “hello” as they walk shrunken dogs who oft wear more clothing than their owners.

indeed, weho is TRULY magical place to live.

that is, unless you live in the vicinity of my apartment building.

for the last few months, my front stoop has fallen victim to the mysterious stoop schtuper. shrowded by darkness, mr. stoop schtuper leaves assorted food items (preferably spoiled or difficult to clean) smeared along the building’s stairs and handrails. at first we attributed the infrequent sprinkling of cheddar popcorn to one of the neighboring liquor store patrons. but before long, it was evident that tuesday’s mustard incident and wednesday’s apple sauce offering and thursday’s crisco-along-the-railings contribution (god i hope it was crisco) was begining to look more like a schmeer campaign.

now i wake up every morning wondering two things: 1) what new celebrity is knocked up and 2) what did the stoop schtuper leave for us this morning? sadly, our friend has exceeded all my expectations and has stooped to new lows. yes, it appears the stoop schtuper has found a source for horse poop. that’s right…he has diversified with equine dookie. poor coco started her last two mornings with a coffee and a pile of poo–both steaming.

so as the sun sets on my beautiful weho, i wonder what my tomorrow has in store. since the guy has a thing for horses, i fear that it’s only a matter of time before it heads in this direction…

pray to god the father for me and stay safe, y’all!

for those who’ve felt personally victimized by regina george

high school coco wanted the UN to declare the celebration of valentine’s day a human rights abuse. worse than water boarding, our marching band’s torture was inflicted in the form of carnations sold for $1 and delivered to people’s valentines during class.

they were even kind enough to color code the cruelty. red for love. pink for friendship. white for secret admirer. the popular regina george types ALWAYS got enough flowers to cover a rose bowl parade float, especially red and white ones.

coco would have to settle for a solitary pink one from her best friend, the brainy valedictorian.  carrying around my scarlet letter of loser-dom, it would be painfully obvious to me and everyone else at northeastern clinton central school that no one was besotted by a chicken-legged girl with shiny braces and a bad perm.

after a better haircut, puberty taking hold in all the right places and a healthy dose of self-confidence, grown-up coco now loves the day devoted to love. and while it’s mostly because i’ve finally stopped waking up in the middle of the night shouting, “PLEASE deliver me from evil…and by evil i mean CARNATIONS!” it’s mostly because i enjoy celebrating the non-traditional things that bring love into my life.

1) i LOVE that jane fonda said c*nt on the today show this morning. that’s sweeter than godiva chocolates!

2) i LOVE that ellen degeneres gets her drycleaning done at MY dry cleaner. i was only 5 feet from her assistant and her soiled suit jackets on valentine’s eve. the loveliest part? ellen recycles her wire hangers. i bet joan crawford LOVES that too.

3) i LOVE that the junior senator from Illinois is kicking a$$ and taking names. yes, i’m in LOVE with obama.

4) i LOVE that one tree hill is back on the air! even more love-worthy? last night’s guest star k-fed, who showed us that his lack-o-talent isn’t confined to rapping.

5) but mostly, i LOVE that i’m surrounded by some of the warmest, kindest and most intelligent people a girl can ask for. thank you all for tickling my soul and sending my heart lots of symbolic carnations. i love you for that.

happy valentine’s day, y’all and don’t forget to tickle all the souls that help you be a better person than you were yesterday.

xoxo,

coco

i heart huckabee

squirrels are evil.

many moons ago i decided to splurge on a happy meal and dine al fresco in washington, dc’s lafayette park. and while i didn’t want to soil my dress barn powersuit, the grass under the huge oak tree beckoned me. almost immediately a sweet, curious squirrel began flirting with me and my french fries. too cute to ignore, i’d throw him a fry and watch the lil guy eat it with delight. he’d come back begging for more, and i’d happily offer another piece. i thought to myself, “how wonderful to enjoy nature in the middle of the city!”

that is until i ran out of french fries. my little squirrel friend began to pace back and forth, then let out a creepy squirrel chirp as if to warn me that he was gonna put a cap in my a$$. after 5 minutes of this, he decided that he had no choice but to assume attack position and growl. yes, growl. it appeared that even dc’s vermin were gansta. seeing my life flash before my eyes, i swiftly threw the rest of my cheeseburger at him and ran like my life depended on it.

ever since i was almost murdered by a squirrel on that summer day, i fear parks, wooded areas, and places with large stores of nuts. hoping i’d be able to leave this chapter behind when i moved to l.a., it appears that the little rats with fluffy tails have infiltrated california too. crap.

however, today i feel a little safer knowing that presidential candidate mike huckabee is out there. ok, so he’s pro-life and anti-everything-i-believe-in…the guy will keep me safe. armed with only a b.b. gun and a popcorn popper, governor huckabee is clearly the best candidate to combat the biggest threat to national security. indeed, a vote for him is a vote against coco terror.

and this, y’all, is why i now heart huckabee.

drunk with representation

since i don’t do yoga or kaballah or horse or mr. chows, i’ve been worried that my “angelino-in-training” card was in imminent jeopardy of getting revoked. so to get back some street cred, i decided to do the next best thing.

audition for an acting agent.

see, i thought it’d be fun to start my cocktail party conversations with, “oh, yes! that reminds me of the time i auditioned for an agent” since my “oh, yes! that reminds me of the time i dated johnny depp” opener was getting old…and completely fabricated. and i figured it’d also be good to actually use my headshots for something other than posing on facebook.

so one day i trolled around for an agency that might have an opening for an epidemiologist/humanitarian worker/blogger/actor on their books. serendipitously i found one and actually got an audition. and much to my chagrin and the chagrin of all epidemioligist/actors living in hollywood..my first real audition since the high school production of “you’re a good man charlie brown” ended up landing me an agent.

crap. that wasn’t supposed to happen. i wasn’t actually supposed to get an agent…just get the audition. but alas, the acting gods had spoken. and drunk with representation, i decided to immediately respond to any question with, “talk to my agent”.

sadly, my supersized, represented across the board ego got an immediate blow (and not the powdered type)…25-hours after i signed my contract, the writer’s strike was struck. double crap.

so nearly 3 months later, it looks like the writers and the rest of hollywood will be going back to work. which means i actually might have a chance to strut my stuff for a snuff film, an infomercial, or a straight to dvd movie that has “attack of the” in the title. yey for coco!

or will i now that he’s back????!!!

triple crap! it appears i will now have to compete with COREY HAIM for gigs!!! oh the humanity. how can i book a job when the more attractive of the two corey’s is back on the market…AND ready to make amends?! yo, i’m completely screwed.

so as i mourn my 23 hour acting career, i’m thinking of finding a literary agent, instead. my submission? a script for a new musical entitled…

“your a good man, corey haim”

congrats writers guild of america!

deeep throat

after four collisions in 12 months, my friends began to worry that bunny the car had a death wish. but after my own hat trick (that’s 3 for people who grew up more than 5 miles away from canada) of emergency room visits in as many months, i’m wondering if it’s rubbed off on me, too.

let’s be honest, folks. i really didn’t think i could EVER top the “back ironing” incident of october ‘07. the talent that one must possess to (1) think ironing on your bed is a sound idea (2) forget that said iron is on said bed (3) jump on said bed to put on one’s boots while said iron is on said bed and (4) fry one’s back in three places with said iron is pretty rare, indeed. but, alas, never underestimate the ability of the coco.

coco’s latest drama all started at a seemingly harmless place:

and while saturday’s dining establishment had sharp knives and proudly boasted a grill, i didn’t worry too much about my safety and the safety of others, as i was trying my best to be careful. the normal coco restaurant missteps were thankfully avoided: i didn’t trip on my 3 inch heels. i didn’t spill my cocktail. i didn’t cut myself with the butcher knives. i even eschewed the ribs as i thought i’d prolly only end up wearing them. coco was wrapping up her incident-free dining experience when she took one last bite of her slow roasted chicken and….

proceeded to swallow a chicken bone.

if you google “swallow chicken bone” you’ll find hundreds of articles about the dangers of cats and dogs ingesting chicken carcasses. clearly, coco has sunk to new lows and decided to take up unsafe activities relegated to four-legged creatures. i can’t tell you how i accomplished this rare feat…however, i can tell you that there’s nothing more humbling than walking into the cedars-sinai ER on a saturday night and telling the triage nurse, “i have a chicken bone lodged in my throat.”

after 3 hours of being x-rayed, having long scary things shoved down my throat, drinking foul liquids and throwing up in front of your boyfriend, the offending chicken bone was dislodged by the same people who helped britney with her first bout of crazy.

now with my throat and ego slowly on the mend, i’m hoping i’ll never have to visit the ER again in the near future…

mostly so i don’t have to see the doctor who applauded my unique ability for having long things shoved down my throat. uh, yeh.

happy erect…i mean election day, y’all!