This photo is one of many cool pics of my awesome friend and journalist, Lizett Bond. We met three years ago in a freelance writing class at UC Irvine. Liz often writes reviews about European autos, purveyed by companies like BMW and Maserati.
Last year, she test drove the 2013 Porsche Cayenne Diesel in the Alaskan tundra and hung out with folks from Car and Driver, a rarity for women in a predominantly male industry. Personally, I don’t know much about cars. I can’t even drive a stick shift. However, I do know that a clutch, in car lingo, is not the little black purse next to you on the passenger seat.
I live vicariously through Liz. When she travels, she remembers to text me a pic of Kafka‘s house in Prague or as above, the Berlin Wall. Next month, she’s going to Shanghai for two days to test drive another new, lux car. I’m already looking forward to seeing what she’ll send me via Cloud mail, but even when Liz is at home, she remains in kinetic motion, riding her horse, Jazzy. I have a pic of Jazzy,too, but I can’t find it. Sorry, she’s a really pretty horse.
By contrast, I’ve never had a passport and my latest thrill is keeping Mindy (Kelly Kapoor of The Office) Kaling’s book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) on my nightstand. I even think I might be developing a girl crush on Kaling, because she’s so funny, AND has deep caramel skin and velvety chocolate-brown eyes. But, that’s fodder for another post or probably another kind of blog.
Yesterday, I did take a 5-mile walk from my house to pick up a couple of prescriptions for my mom, stop at Barnes to check out the latest best-sellers, and then shoot some grainy pix of ducks and seagulls swimming together on Irvine’s Woodbridge pond, with my Android phone. (A radical intermingling of avian species, the likes of which have never been seen anywhere on the blue planet.) Yes, I know you’re totally, totally, jealous that I get to do these kind of things.
Without further adieu, here’s the link to John Brooks’ racing blog, DoubleDeClutch.com, showcasing Liz’s test drive of B.F. Goodrich tires at NOLA Motorsport Park in LA, that’s Louisiana not Los Angeles. Just published today!
Note: I’m only secure in promoting her story because despite being an amazing wonder-woman reporter, Liz doesn’t have her own WordPress blog. In which case I wouldn’t feature her writing, because you would immediately abandon my blog for hers–callously and gleefully tossing me aside, like an old pair of TOMS shoes.
Hmmm. I did offer Liz full use of my rudimentary WordPress skills to help create her own blog. I need to rescind, um, I mean revisit that idea, because as discussed on my “About” page, I’m a Leo. Garnering attention/adulation and a constant fear of rejection are pretty much all that motivates us. Throw in the insatiable desire to someday become a published, fiction writer and you have all the elements for an emotionally volatile, border-line-unstable blogger or a really bad sitcom.
Oh, right, this post is supposed to be about my friend, Lizett, who has actual media credentials. Bad, Judy, bad! Bad, bad, needy Leo! As you read, notice Liz’s clever use of the word “lagniappe” which is New Orleans speak for “something given by way of good measure.”
So finally, here’s the link for Lizett’s story, On the Skids in New Orleans:
P.S. This song inspired the post title. Liz introduced me to R.L. Burnside while we were driving in her Cooper, a couple of years ago. It’s easy to dance to and we like the beat. Liz has great taste in music. Otherwise, I’d be still be singing, “And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh. Like baby, baby, baby, no!”