Angela was restless and heartbroken as she listened to the desperate meowing of a stranded kitty in a tree, high above her apartment complex in Huntington Beach. It was going on day three and the kitty was still trapped in the wind and the rain - that's when Angela contacted OC Weekly and a blog post was put up looking for a Good Samaritan.

Because I'm a sentimental schmuck, with my pathetically large heart flopped over my sleeve on a pretty regular basis, I was deeply moved by the kitty crisis. It was time to act, so I brought along my Mother, a.k.a. The Cat Whisperer (unofficially, of course) and the proper kitty rescue tools, ie. animal carrier, flashlights and blankets.

Now, back in the day, there was nothing this tomboy couldn't climb, but as we arrived on the scene I felt discouraged - the tree was towering, imposing and completely unconquerable.

Sigh.

It was a community event, beautiful - everyone pulling together for a common good. We spent about forty five minutes making cooing noises and calling "here kitty kitty!" in the pouring rain- all to no avail. I also learned that this cat had a track record of entertaining this apartment complex - recently he had done the same thing (getting stuck in the very same tree!) as neighbors scrambled up the roof and tree with a complicated network of ropes and other home made rescuing devices. Maybe this kitty knew what he was doing!

Just as we had made up our minds that the cat had either met it's doom - or- it had decided to come down and was now curled up content next to a fireplace somewhere- the owners strolled up.

Little (that's his name) had decided he had grown tired of his big adventures and returned to his home around 3 p.m. today. Why, you Little sunnuva. . .

Glad you're OK, Little guy!

As a receptionist I get to see tons of cool shit come through the mail. Never mine - but meh - it's all good. Today was no exception as I instant messaged Patty Marsters: "You've got some mail!"

She appeared at my window and squealed, "OOoooo!"

I handed her my pair of scissors and we both stared at this box with HUGE smiles on our faces.

There were oodles and oodles of free things in it - stylish things. There was a nail clipper set, some cool nail polish that I would go as far as to rename "Erin Dewitt Red". Also a cute little DVD holder with all the latest episodes from the Style network.

However, one item caught my eye - a pink bathrobe!

"Oh my goodness Patty can I wear it?" - Me
"Of course! Oh it looks wonderful!" - Patty

As you can see, it matches perfectly with the pink beach cruiser here in our sales department.

PS. Yup, that's a fake crow there on the ceiling - a friend of Ryan Cox.

Did anyone stay awake all through night to witness the total lunar eclipse?

Not me. But for some reason I awoke at 5:20 a.m. and trudged to my backyard, half asleep to capture this grainy image. The tail end of a magnificent display of nature...

If you get nerdy for this kind of thing the way I do, then check out this informative link.

Growing up in Garden Grove- there are few places to grab a moment of solitude conveniently located next to one's home.

Huntington Beach is kinda far. La Habra heights too.

A park? Maybe.

This may sound odd but when life was getting me down, or hell, even out of sheer boredom - my friends and I found ourselves gathered on the Harbor pedestrian bridge, that arches over the 22 freeway.

My good friend Jeremy ( seen in above photo) was the person I'd frequent the bridge with the most - mostly within the wee hours of the morning. They were good times. Sometimes we'd sneak a beer or two into our pockets on a cold night, but more often, there were those heartfelt conversations and random photo shoots as we watched his dog, Mariel patrol the area.

Oddly enough, last night after a farewell dinner for our friend Kim, we contemplated making a trip to our beloved hangout spot. After some thought we both decided we were just too tired to kick it. Yeah, it may sound lame but there was something kind of intriguing about this spot. Maybe 'twas the drone of minimal traffic at 3 a.m. on a usually sardined 22 freeway, which produces a calming effect. Perhaps it was the last place on Earth someone in their right mind should be when darkness falls. Probably the latter.

Definitely the latter.

This morning two bodies were found, shot to death, along the pedestrian walk way. The victims are said to have been in their early twenties.

Garden Grove residents say that gang activity plagues both sides of this bridge. The answer as to whether or not these deaths were gang-related is pending further investigation.

Needless to say, we won't be visiting our bridge anytime soon...

Seen on a sidewalk on Santa Ana Ave. in Santa Ana:

Last night all eyes would be focused on Lee "Scratch" Perry's performance at the House of Blues in Anaheim. Honestly? I was only there to catch the all too brief performance by Mexican Institute of Sound. I had just arrived, roughly thirty minutes after the "arrive at 7" marker - and glancing up at the big screen tv, I see that my boys had already taken the stage.

Balancing a cup full of Stella Artois, Billy Joe ( happy birthday, cousin! ) and I dashed down the staircase and into a room of, well - NOBODY - fine, maybe ten people? Yes, ten frickin' stoic people! A damned shame. I wish my friend/former roomate, Rebecca could've joined me ( we used to dance to this album in our living room, almost daily ) or even Ofelia ( who jogs to this album on the weekends ) Le sigh...yup, they would've loved it.

It was a short but sweet set, including "Mirando a Las Muchachas" - a happy little mix that would make Austin Powers smirk with glee. If you have seen the movie, La Mujer de Mi Hermano, theirs' is "El Tiempo Es Muy Largo" - one of the main highlights of an already killer soundtrack - a liquid sound combined with a reggae beat and all the viscosity of a warm and delicious maple syrup.

Camilo Lara, head of MIS, is a charming and intelligent man - informing me on all aspects of his music and his beloved Mexico D.F. -his hometown and the source of inspiration. He melds bits and pieces of cumbia and cha cha cha snipets - set to electronica and other nostalgic samplings.

It's like a trip through Mexico City...

Before the release of his debut album titled, Méjico Máxico, he had collaborated on remixes for many bands, including Placebo. His second album, Piñata (in stores now) features "El Microfono" - a clanking, cooingly smooth track, featuring a playful freestyle rap session--also, a highly enjoyable, energy packed finale to their Friday night set. One of the many reasons to swipe up these albums as soon as possible.

Accompanying Camilo on this particular evening was redheaded Andres Sanchez, another resident of D.F. and fellow talented DJ. His, Sanchez Dub & The Bootsraps cd is an impressive mix of tracks, guaranteed to stir the imagination as you ride the waves of its' ambient sound.

Check them out!
www.myspace.com/mexicaninstituteofsound &
www.myspace.com/sanchezdub

The name Gershwin brings back many fond memories for me as a child, hours spent drawing my favorite classic movie actors and actresses while listening to records with my grandma. So when I found out that the Pacific Symphony Orchestra was going to be performing Gershwin’s Greatest Hits –and All That Jazz, I jumped at the opportunity to actually see and hear, live, the masterpieces of George Gershwin – easily the greatest American composer of our time.

Grandma and Grandpa were my guests for the evening (lookin' pretty sharp!) and after we were all carefully situated and buckled in - we made the journey to the Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre in Irvine.

A site to behold – entire families picnicking on the rolling mounds of green grass, wine and cheese in hand. Once we made it to the gate it dawned on me that I had overlooked completely the fact that my grandpa was confined to a wheelchair. Katharine Ho and other members of the staff were angels and went out of their way to accommodate us. Awesome. And although this left us slightly further back ( not deep within the orchestra section, but oh well ) everything was great, it all worked out perfectly.

Being moved to the back was good for us but not for Gershwin. It should’ve been called, Tons of Jazz and Oh Yes, Gershwin Too – poor George certainly took a backseat throughout most of the evening. Along with my grandpa’s quips before, during and after every performance, “That’s not Gershwin!” he’d growl - sinking back into his wheelchair, arms tense and folded across his chest.

Food, glorious food! And it's all organic! You can hear the farmers (there are about 70 of them) proudly boasting of how fresh and delicious their products are. A hilarious Calypso drummer freestyles random verses — singing about you as you pass by. The sights and smells begin to flutter all around you. Inhale. Exhale. Paradise!

It's Saturday, and things are buzzing at Irvine Certified Farmers Market. Just one small sampling of delectable and fleshy white nectarines could be addictive! The farmers know this, as many of their stands offer trays of full-flavored, heavenly produce — bountiful in color and savory in smell. Their hands of children and adults alike dart to grab a piece of that tasty color.

We ain't just talkin' fruits and vegetables here, but an array of other tempting items to seduce the senses. Take, for example, an armful of vibrant, glowing sunflowers or a slue of charming daisies. Still hungry for something other than fruits or veggies? Various choices of zesty cheeses, aged to perfection, are available to sample, along with health-conscious freshly baked goods.

Of all my duties as editorial assistant here at the OC Weekly, I have to say that my favorite is answering the telephone calls for the editorial department.

From random story ideas to PR pitches and the incessant ranting of crazy persons, I have heard it all. Here are a few of my favorite calls from this week:

Breaking News! A man left a voice mail with this hot story tip. His son’s private school wouldn’t allow the boy to attend a field trip because he failed to turn in some paperwork on time. “He was absent the day it was due!” the recording said. “This just isn’t right! They are out of control there… They made me get a doctor’s note for him to be allowed to wear a jacket during PE!” I have a thought. Why don’t you stop paying for you child to go to school there?

A man called from some PR agency to ask what local “controversial issues” were going on in Orange County. Jeez, I don’t know… Why don’t you read the paper and find out?

It was purely an urge to reunite with my pal Gail Stahl that led me to the Art Walk in Laguna Beach on Thursday night. Although I was tired and hesitant, my friend-since-first-grade, Mike Michika and I piled into the car of my cousin and namesake, Billy Joe Agan - heading south along the 5 freeway to immerse ourselves in this Laguna Beach tradition.

Gail and I embraced. We had arrived late of course, but just in time to scrounge up the last of the wine, delectable hotdog weenies and delicious carrot cake. I had to put my vegan binge at Wheel of Life on hold - thus, my reluctance to this free food substitution. But how could I refuse these treats when they were offered with such beaming smiles from such charming older women? So happy to meet me and show me their works of art. One woman in particular, Wally, was very charming and very sweet. "Take a look around my dear," she smiled.

Wine in hand, I gingerly made my rounds to several randomly selected pieces, Gail at my side. As always, she was charming and full of stories to bestow upon Mike, Billy and myself. We listened intently. She has that way of bringing you into a story. Her eyes sparkled. "I'm going to tell you a little secret," she whispered. "Did you know that Norman Rockwell traced his artwork?!" We laughed and sipped our wine.

We left shortly after to mingle around the other art galleries. Some of it was interesting. Some was not.

"Obviously that person missed the class lecture about Jackson Pollock," Billy snickered. Then almost immediately he exclaimed, "Look! It's a dinosaur!"

The three of us leaned in closer with squinted eyes, lost in the conglomerate of splashes and blotches. Then, almost in unison, we busted up in uproarious laughter! A few unintentional brush strokes on canvas had created a red-faced, cartoon dinosaur, much to our amusement. Suddenly we were made aware that everyone around us was not so amused with our imaginations. We finished the rest of our wine and headed back to the car.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder--as are visions of dinosaurs in unlikely places.