Kerri "geezer bandit" T.'s Profile

It's not the best thin crust pizza in Sacramento (that would be Masullo's).  It's not the most comfortable/divey pizza joint in Sacramento (that would be Zelda's).  It wasn't The Most Talked About Sacramento Pizza Joint Opening, Ever (that would be One Speed).  And it's not the loudest pizza joint known to man (Masullo's again).

But for what it is (a sleek new pizza joint staffed with numerous, lithe young Italian boys), and for what it does (serves up simple and delicious wood-fired-oven pies) I'm a fan of Hot Italian.  Perhaps it's because my best friend lives directly next door to the place so it's far too easy to pop down just before they shut down for the night and grab a few morsels to go.  Perhaps it's because they possess the largest mounted ceiling fan I've ever seen (the thing must be, what, eight feet long?  nine feet?  Holy crap!  I couldn't stop staring at it.).

Or perhaps it's the simple perfection of a giant glass bottle filled with chilled tap water, a well-baked Fiori pizza drizzled with spicy oil, and two draft peronis, at 4:30 pm on a Monday afternoon.

I come here out of necessity - don't we all?   Booze, cigarettes, dirty magazines, red bull, toilet paper, and honey buns:  this place has everything a rootin' tootin' cowgirl might need.  

I think if you pay with a credit card you don't have to pay the exorbitant debit card fee.

You could do better, you could do worse, but you can't beat the amenities for the price.  Three stars for a great value, clean bed, and quiet(ish) place to watch Californication marathons in my underwear while drinking red wine out of a cheap paper cup.

While the facility feels as if it might be constructed out of plywood and the sheets are so thin I actually turned the light back on the first night I stayed here, just to visually confirm that there were sheets on the bed, there are several perks to staying at the Heritage Inn & Suites.

The bathtubs are so long that I could lay down flat in the tub with my feet on the faucet end.  There are 62 cable televisions stations and at least three movie channels.  There's a very nice outdoor pool and spa.  Breakfast at the adjacent hotel restaurant, Victoria's, is free; you get to order whatever you want from their menu; and the omelets are absolutely delicious and served with a lovely side of fresh fruit (or hash browns).  

The desk staff were incredibly patient with my attempts to get hooked up to the hard wired DSL internet connection, which never actually did work no matter how many times I switched rooms or tried different blue cords.  Eventually I gave up (thus the self-indulgent Californication marathon) and reveled in not having internet access for two whole days.  

At a AAA rate of $86 per night, plus an $8.60 city tax, I would absolutely stay here again.  I would recommend bringing some earplugs, though.  The exterior and interior doors tend to slam shut, and not everyone in the hotel remembers that they're not the only people in the universe.

Maybe I came here on an off night, but this is probably the worst sushi I have ever eaten.

Maybe I should have known better:  it's not like Ridgecrest is anywhere near a major city or airport that would be delivering fresh fish on a daily basis.  However, because I live in a little desert town that features at least one pretty decent sushi joint, and because I've been in crappier little towns located much further from the ocean and had decent - and sometimes good - sushi, I decided to throw caution to the wind.

Given my hunger, and my clear lack of critical thinking skills, I am thankful that I did not try the $26.50 all-you-can-eat dinner option.  Normally I would be all over an all-you-can-eat sushi special.  But I had trouble finishing what I did order (which, if you care, was the "Jessica Roll" roll and a spicy tuna hand roll).

The California roll mixture tasted canned and was too mayonnaisey.  The roll was topped with absolutely tasteless salmon and eerily blood red  tuna, both of which had a strange aftertaste.  The spicy tuna mixture tasted as if it had been made days earlier.  At least the cucumber and avocado were fresh.  

A fellow reviewer pointed out - and I must absolutely agree - that the staff here are super friendly.  The night I visited there were three sushi chefs, and all of them were beaming and greeting most of the other customers by name.  As people walked in, they, too, were beaming.  The locals obviously really like this place.  And while it may be a bit brightly lit (what place in Ridgecrest is not, may I ask, because I drove all over town looking and could not find it), it is an impeccably clean and comfortable establishment.

However, I still regret that the meal set me back $20.  There are cheaper methods of torturing oneself in strange, small desert towns.

Pre-apocalyptic stockpiling hell swarm, anyone?  

Getting someone an Xmas gift card for Super King would be kind of a fucked up gift.  On one hand, free groceries!  Whoot!  On the other hand, they have to actually go there to redeem it.

Even though I'm the girl who'd rather carry two baskets than try to maneuver around the obstacle course with yet another grocery cart that's too big to properly round the corners, I had an old man actually ram ME with his cart when I was shopping here.  Had I not loudly said "OW" he probably would have just kept pushing till I was pinned against the far wall.  People here sure are focused - on the goods, not on their fellow shoppers.  And for good reason; the shelves are packed with weird delights from around the globe.  Worth a vist for the packaged foods (crackers, cookies, soups, etc.), cheese aisles, shelves of cured meats, yogurt selection, and mexican ice cream (can someone please tell me whether Mamey ice cream is good or not?  I'm intrigued).

However, I don't necessarily equate CHEAP FOOD with GOOD FOOD, especially when it comes to produce.  When I was here, the vat of persimmons outside looked rancid, but people were grabbing them by the handfuls anyway because they were cheap.  Not Okay.

About two years ago I did something freaky to my neck/shoulder that occasionally immobilizes me - usually at the most inopportune time possible.  Like when I'm on vacation in Oahu.

After months of emergency room visits, physical therapy, X-rays, and MRIs, I decided to try chiropractic care.  After three weeks of surfing the net, searching for an acceptable (on my insurance plan and not sketchy looking/sounding) option, I chose Touch Chiropractic (Dr. Jeff).

Touch features a spa-like lobby environment; beautifully appointed waiting room and facilities; and poised and knowledgable practitioners who provide gentle and informative care.  Each office visit starts with a verbal assessment of your pain, progress, and feelings about what is working / not working, and then a slow warm-up of your muscles and problem areas before treatment.  I never felt panicked about what the hell was happening to me; I always felt informed and empowered; and while I was a patient here I was able to resume most of my previous activities (yoga, running, lifting weights).

Highly recommended.

A very cute boy took me here on a very hot date once and, though I ended up marrying someone else, I will always have a special place in my heart for the amazing Van Kleef's.

The decor is what happens when grannies and granpappies attack, with taxidermy, headless busts, clocks, chandeliers, and miscellaneous tchotchkes covering every possible ounce of space on the walls, shelves, and ceiling.  I'm sure the obsessively spartan among you would have panic attacks just looking at the pictures, but I find the packratism endearing.  

There's a heap of grapefruits sitting near the cash register for a reason, folks.  The greyhound is the house specialty, but they'll fresh squeeze anything on hand.  

It's been a while, but I fuzzily remember a band playing halfway up the far wall.  

Hands down the best bar anywhere near Oakland.

This tiny, accessible store on a major Pasadena thoroughfare is magical.  How else would it be possible for me - the Uber-shopping-procrastinator who talks herself out of every purchase greater than $50 - to leave with a new pair of shoes and socks in under a half hour, after a single visit?

Well, for starters, the ratio of staff to shoppers was about 8:1.  I could have had guy 1 putting one shoe on one foot, guy 2 putting one shoe on the other foot, guy 3 giving me a back massage, sent guys 4 and 5 across the street for booze, and still had a few guys to spare.  

The staff was incredibly knowledgable and appropriately deferent; not a shoe-nazi to be found.  When the person who helped me (Nick) suggested that I might want a bit of arch support to prevent pronation and I recoiled, he did not push the issue (I've been told that before and have learned - through trial and error - that my feet do not take well to tennis shoes with pronounced arch support).  Nick was careful to ask me where I'd be running (on trails, on sidewalks, on asphalt, away from the police station, etc.).  Since my primary residence is located 3 miles up a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, Nick suggested that we start with trail shoes.  

I tried on five, maybe six pairs of shoes, before settling on the pair that I purchased.  Luckily, the sexiest pair of shoes was also the most comfortable, but that's not always the case.  Usually I end up purchasing a hideously ugly pair - think baby blue with gold and pink piping, or banana yellow with purple lettering - that feel fantastic on my feet but are otherwise aesthetically assaulting.

I went running in my sexy Mizuno running shoes yesterday for the first time and so far so good.  Like all shoe stores that cater to 'real' runners, Run With Us has a generous return policy.  Wear the shoes, try the shoes, run in the shoes, work out in the shoes:  figure out if they're the shoes for you.  You've got ten days to return them.  

Parking Hint:  It's easier to park in the store's private lot if you're going north on N Lake Ave;  since we were traveling south on N. Lake, we ended up trapped in the diner's lot next door.

One of the things I dreaded most about moving to the desert was the idea of having to purchase produce from a major supermarket chain, so imagine my surprise when I encountered the Joshua Tree Certified Farmers Market!  Known to locals as the weekly social club, the market features six or seven stands featuring locally grown produce and eggs; greek foodstuffs driven in from Los Angeles; local breads, rolls, and savory/sweet muffins; local honey, jams, and jellies; and locally-made Doggie Treats and other handmade gifts.

Each week we dutifully trek down the hill 3.5 miles, visit Ricochet for coffee and whatever warm, sexy food that Chef Rosa has just taken out of the oven, then head across the street to the market.  We buy carrots, celery, broccoli, sweet/hot peppers, sweet corn, cilantro, tomatoes (when we can), squash, spinach, and whatever fruit is in season (currently persimmons, apples, and citrus).  We also visit the Greek Food Stand (Aliki's Greek Taverna; http://www.elikioliveo...) for delicious kalamata olives (with or without pits), tzatziki, feta, and fresh pita bread.  While the husband struggles to juggle the bags I keep handing off to him, I drool over the breads - the pastries and muffins are always a big hit with our houseguests.  Eventually we make our way to the far end of the market, where Diggin' It Doggie Treats has a small stand.  Our puppy loves the Carrot Chicken Canine Cookies that are made from the Three Dog Bakery Recipe.

The market is open every Saturday morning, between 8am and noon.

Could be better, could be worse.

My husband and I recently attended An Evening With Brian Eno at the Richard and Karen Carpenter Performing Arts Center, which is hidden within the campus of CSU Long Beach.  The Center seats 1,074 (moderately comfortably, with fairly ample leg room).  The Carpenter Exhibit, a permanent display celebrating the music duo, is open at all events (and, if you're a total freak, by appointment).

After we tried following google map directions to the center (which, if you search for it online, has at least three different physical addresses - very confusing; better to use the directions provided on the venue's website), we got lost on the campus.  We followed a sign that read "Carpenter Center" with a pointing arrow, but the next groups of signs we encountered did not offer further assistance;  eventually we ended up following a stream of people down what turned out to be a very wide sidewalk and flipped a U-turn among some hideous buildings.  We finally found an adjunct parking lot ($5 to park on an empty campus on a Sunday night = ridiculous) and made our way through the maze.

We stood in a very long line for about fifteen minutes until one of the event staff had a brilliant idea of forming (and staffing) two entry lines.  Stroke of genius, that!  Once inside, we noticed free champagne and strawberries being handed out at several tables, but the hordes of leering folks standing in (yet another) line steered me clear; instead, I purchased water bottles (cash only) from the barista station.

The first seven or ten minutes was excruciating.  Honestly, I didn't pay $100 to sit through a thousand 'thank you's' and a litany of sponsors, thanks.  Put it in the program.

Once Brian Eno took the stage, however, I was transported, transfixed, mute and eager to capture every single word in my trusty travel notebook.  [By the end of his lecture, I could count, without turning my head, at least fifty similarly engaged patrons around me.]  I was absolutely overwhelmed by the brilliance of Mr. Eno Himself.  Kudos to the staff who booked the lecture, and kudos to Mr. Eno for two hours of life-enriching musings and anecdotes.  I could have done without the absolutely INANE question and answer session, though.  Some people are unabashedly stupid, but should we all be held hostage by them?  I think not.

While the bulk of the season appears to be ballet, contemporary dance, music, and Joan Collins (WTF?), we would absolutely return to Long Beach for future "An Evening Withs" and I would encourage the venue to host more lectures of this ilk.  Next up: "An Evening With John Cleese."