Two coworkers (Brian and Joe) and I were walking outside today. 

We noted not one, not two, but THREE helicopters swarming in the skies above us.  One of which was doing massive loops.  That third copter was emblazoned with "POLICE."

Good times!

We looked up at the overpass from the 405 freeway that runs (or, more accurately, "crawls") through Los Angeles.  Right there in front of us, was a standoff.  Police cars, an abandoned truck, and a nervous looking man. 

Brian grabbed for his camera phone.  He's new to LA.  He was excited.  LA-regulars don't get excited about earthquakes that knock A-list celebrities into their laps while in the middle of a gun battle, so Joe and I were less interested, but still excited on Brian's behalf.

I was ready to continue our walk, when Brian yelped in excitement and enthusiastically shook my shoulder.  "He's got his hands up! His hands are up!"

Brian tried to film the whole scene on his cell phone, but forgot key features like starting to record and zooming in on the action until much of the scene had unfolded.  But we did see the gentlemen ordered to the ground, and then swarmed by officers with their guns drawn.

Good times. I love LA.

Parental discretion is advised.  The people in the movie I plan to link to use a certain bad word more than once.  Please be careful. 

But you know I love Lazy Sunday. I have found (from my delightful coworkers) a second response to it, this one by some Midwesterners.

A coworker of mine got married last week. Lauren and I were in attendance, as were a bunch of my coworkers.

To protect anonymity, let's call the woman who got married "Moose."

This past week, Moose told several of us an amusing story regarding her grandfather-in-law. He's a sweet but rather elderly gentleman.

Apparently, as Moose strolled down the aisle in her elegant wedding dress, as her friends and family stood watching, well, that's when Grandpa said something.

As Moose tells it:

Everyone's quiet -- of course -- because I'm walking down the aisle. Then, he says in a loud voice, loud enough that even I heard:

"You can see downtown from here!"

When Moose told this story at work, nearly all of my coworkers mind misinterpreted what Moose was describing her grandfather-in-law as saying. I know I did. And so did other coworkers I retold the story to. And so did Lauren, when I told her.

In fact, I'm willing to bet that some of you still haven't realized what Grandpa actually meant.

He was commenting on the impressive view of Los Angeles.

You sickos.

Remember "Project Awesome"?

That was that special page Grab put up where you could tell someone he or she was awesome:

http://www.grab.com/awesome/Lex/Friedman
http://www.grab.com/awesome/George/Clooney
http://www.grab.com/awesome/Captain/Nemo

It's fun, and worth sending to friends.

Well, these days, if you're into that sort of thing, you can share Project Awesome with your friends via some other sites, too -- brothers and sisters of Grab.com:

http://www.madblast.com/awesome/William/Jefferson/Clinton
http://www.blesstheday.com/awesome/The/Pope
http://www.flowgo.com/awesome/Goofy

Just thought I'd share!

My vacation is almost over. Lauren and I will fly back to LA early, early tomorrow (6:30am Eastern, which is 3:30am Pacific), and then once we're back in LA, I'll actually be going in for a full day's work at Grab HQ. That should be fun! If the site falls down tomorrow, I blame me.

In OTHER news... Remember two blog posts ago, when I wrote about "Lazy Sunday," the Chronicles of Narnia-themed rap on SNL? It's available free on iTunes, and now Slate says the video actually means something for rap.

As it turns out, Slate's wrong. But it's still a good article.

We can't be TOO sad about returning to Los Angeles, though, because it does mean one very, very exciting thing:

CHARLIE! We haven't seem the little guy in nearly a week and a half, and we are (all, Charlie included!) looking forward to the big reunion!

Today at Grab HQ (or, as it's known in some circles, "work"), we're having our pictures taken for new photo ID badges.  So I was going to write up a blog entry being thankful that I look so good today, meaning that my immortalization in ID badge form would reflect an especially handsome day for myself.

But then I realized: Lex, you always look handsome. 

Which, in turn, means that there's no real need to post a blog entry celebrating that I look good today for ID badge photo-taking day; fact is, it would be more exciting if I had somehow looked BAD today.  That would have been a noteworthy event.

Some might say I sound big-headed. 

But ALL would say: DAMN, Lex looks good.

Dear rubber pig,

I know I've written to you as part of my "office toy conglomerate" already. But today, I wanted to single you out and remind you to mind your bidness.

See, you -- as you know -- are propped up against a picture frame holding a photo of my lovely wife Lauren. But sometimes, it almost looks as if you're hugging her.  I can't say I blame you -- she's quite huggable.

But it can look shady.

And those eyes!  Those black, painted-on eyes!  You sure are looking up adoringly at her charming visage.

So I'm gonna say this, and I'm gonna say this just once:

NO FUNNY BUSINESS.

Thank you.

I just had not Writer's Block, but rather... Writer's Avalanche.  I wanted to blog about TOO MANY things at once.

First, I wanted to blog about the amazing vacation my wife and I just took in Palm Springs.   So relaxing. So beautiful.  So fun.  And that's just Lauren!  But seriously... our trip included the Palm Springs Zoo & Desert Museum, a tram ride up nearly 8,000 feet to the top of a mountain, and a brief visit with relatives who were staying in a massive home once rented by Elvis.

I also wanted to blog about how today is my birthday, and isn't that grand, and boy am I old, and I love presents, and blah blah blah.  But my Grab inbox is already overflowing with birthday wishes, and I don't want to stoke that fire any more!

And, before Thanksgiving, I was hoping to blog a list of 50 things I'm thankful for.  But I forgot to do it, because the day before Thanksgiving was a short work day and -- of course -- the start of vacation time.  Maybe next year.

For the time being, I'm going to get some work done.

I have a variety of office toys.  There's a mold-able pig that I can reshape into various poses, a small magnetic stick figure with similar abilities, one of those clackity metal ball things that bounce around in fun patterns, a fun smile-bearing little yellow bendy guy, a funny, odd-shaped very bouncy ball, a sarcastic "magic-8"-style ball, a squeezy orange stress/happy-face ball, and occasionally some weird stretchy Chuzzle-looking rubber balls that my boss bought a few months ago.

It's a large desk.

But I do wish that all the toys on my desk could do a better job keeping my desk clutter-free.  I give them a home, and allow -- nay, encourage! -- my coworkers to amuse themselves when they stop by for a question, impromptu meeting or (never!) quick chat. 

And yet... They give me nothing in return.  In fact, if you can imagine, sometimes my numerous office toys seem to ADD to the clutter here in my cube.

The nerve.

So, MEMO TO MY OFFICE TOYS:

Thanks a lot.  Jerks.

Love,
Lex

It's a late night.

Well, it's not late. But it's late to be at work. On a Friday. For crying out loud.

But I'm hangin' with cool peeps! Jeff and Zach and Deuce (whose real name is Dave, but that only comes out at night), and Chris, and Steve, and grabqabakp, and Adi.

It's fun.

Sort of.

I mean, it's work. But it's fun.

This post has no point. (Or does my point have no post?)

Other than: People at work late on a Friday get punch.

Love,
Lex

I have repurposed today's day of costumed mayhem "dress like a project manager day."

See, Conrad has a very consistent way of dressing: It's always a Hawaiian or plaid button-down shirt, and flip-flops, plus the omnipresent goatee.  (See?)

So, today, I'm wearing a bright plaid button down, sandals, and, of course, am sporting a goatee.

And Wemmick and Krustykreme did the same!

I stumbled across this amazing illusion today. Focus on the moving pink dot, and it's pink. Focus on the center "plus," and the moving dot turns green -- and all the other pink dots eventually disappear! This will truly blow your mind.

I saw another optical illusion today, too. I spotted two more gray hairs in the bathroom mirror at work today. But where I used to let that bother me, I now ignore it. Age -- and gray hair -- is an illusion.

Not to turn this blog into wheat grass central, but today was Day 2 of my new wheat grass phase.  Deuce, Moose, and I all did our wheat grass shots around 10 this morning.  Deuce and I used an apple juice chaser, a change of pace from the standard orange slice.

Moose went with no chaser at all.  She's impressive.

Both Deuce and Moose mocked me for not having a nickname that rhymes with "Truce." 

One day.

I work with a lot of fun people here at Grab HQ.

Among them is Deuce. You may remember him from his numerous message board and blog postings.  He's a popular guy here on Grab.com, and I tend to say frequently: Everybody loves Deuce.

Today, we have a special affection for Deuce.  Because he has now twice made me into a winner.  How so?

Well, my first "win" was yesterday. I lunched with Deuce and Conrad across the street.  I made a reference to the hit 80s tune "One Way or Another."  There was some debate as to the original performer of that tune.  I said Blondie, Deuce said the Pretenders, and Conrad went with Pat Benatar.  Deuce and I made it interesting, to the tune of $5.

The Internet on my cell phone proved me right, and Deuce treated me to lunch. Win #1.

And the second win is less materialistic -- it's health-related.  Deuce has started doing wheat grass shots a few days a week, which he'd mentioned to me.  2.5 pounds of green vegetables in a single plastic cup.  He inspired me to join him today, so we both choked back a glass of grass this morning -- with me admittedly more nervous about the experience than he.  (It was my second-ever wheat grass shot; the first was a few years ago in college.)

Let me say this: It's awful.  Wheat grass tastes like grass only worse.  And you burp grass for hours, and feel it in your bones.

I can't wait to do it again tomorrow.

All I can say is, this crap better be healthy.  But so long as it is -- I win again.  Hooray!

Some folks are morning people.  Others are night owls. 

As for me, I'm... a morning person, 100%.

I am often the first Grab-team member in the office; I tend to arrive around 7:45.