It's something that I don't say often, except about this particular CD: "I feel like this album was written for me." I said it only once before, sadly, in reference to Fall Out Boy's Under the Cork Tree album. Gawd, I know, that speaks VOLUMES about my musical preference in high school. I swear it's better now everybody. V can vouch, trust.
So when I was an intern at the now defunct 99X radio station in Atlanta, I, like all other interns in all other corporations, got access to THE CLOSET. For fashion interns, the closet is filled with clothing. For business interns, the closet is stocked with office supplies and paperwork. For kids slaving away in the entertainment world, I assume the closet is full of film reels, headshots, profiles, used syringes, and discarded one dollar bills. But for a wide eyed eager beaver devoting her energy to typing CD case labels, running mail, snapping shots for the website, stacking autographed posters, answering phones, and occasionally sleeping/eating her weight in vending machine goods/watching Seinfeld reruns in the break room, THE CLOSET is the compendium of musical goodness and history, the reserves of every album that was every played and will be played at the station in chronological order. I spent a good bit of my time in the closet (once I was there sorting CDs for six hours straight. I could not look at a Foo Fighters or Jane's Addiction record the same since), and while most of it was boring (put Rogue Wave in the R's, file Beck in B, stick Serge Gainsbourg in S, not G), I was rewarded handsomely. The deal was, remove any and all albums that had been in the closet for more than three months and put them in a box. After I finished, my boss would skim through and take out what he wanted and then I got to take whatever was left. Naturally, I got wise to the system and started getting clever. Hmmm, I don't have this Black Keys album...it's kinda old...and into the box it goes! My boss had an amazing collection of music, and we had varying tastes, so I usually got everything I wanted from the closet.
Among the free deliciousness was the Nicole Atkins record, Neptune City. The album came out back when I was still in the pussyfooting stage with my boyfriend. I had the pleasure of seeing Nicole Atkins when she opened up for the Pipettes last winter, and I remember just standing there in a crowd of about 200 people packed into a bar not fit for its occupancy level, mesmerized, because I felt like she was singing to me, for me, about me. But then the Pipettes came out and I spent the night dancing, getting touched by some creepy dude, and walking barefoot on the street because I lent my flats to my friend who was stupid enough to wear heels to a concert when she barely wore heels at all. Feelings and sentiments passed. Emails were sent out and an internship was secured.
My boss knew of my interest in Nicole Atkins. Queshes about said concert were asked and answered accordingly. Then I went digging in the closet, doing my internal duties (guhross!) and I found the Nicole Atkins album. Not one for sappy chick music, my boss let me take it, no arguments made.
I am almost embarrassed to admit that almost a year later, I have finally listened to the whole album. It is incredible. It speaks to me like few records ever do. I sing to it, cry to it, identify with it, and dance to it. You need to own it. Here, I'll help you.
Nicole Atkins: "Maybe Tonight"
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
It's something that I don't say often, except about this particular CD: "I feel like this album was written for me." I said it only once before, sadly, in reference to Fall Out Boy's Under the Cork Tree album. Gawd, I know, that speaks VOLUMES about my musical preference in high school. I swear it's better now everybody. V can vouch, trust.
Monday, September 29, 2008
As everyone knows, Jewels is amazing. She's up on the dopest, flyest, most Missbehave shit out there. Plus she makes I Love NY totes that are a must have and she makes videos from her basement! This girl goes to all the bomb parties and still remembers enough of them to tell us (her excited and loyal readers) about them. Plus she's wise like nobody's business and incredible kind. So here's to Jewels' 26th birthday! May she have 26 more!
Oh wait, that makes her 52. So 26 more! And then like 40 after that! So 66 more birthdays! Yeah, we'll go with that.
So happy birthday girl! Pop bottles, buy up Brooklyn, or eat your weight at that cheese bar, whatever makes you happy, because you deserve it! And no birthday is complete without a wonderful and joyful seal photo! So here you go:
Cop the I Love NY totes here and peep the amazingness that is Jewels here and here.
Let's all be dope bitches till we die!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Um, who doesn't love Absolutely Fabulous? If you don't, I don't want to know you. Oh, and if you've been living in a nasty black underground bubble that has prohibited you from learning anything of the outside world for over a decade, allow me to cue you in to the genius that is AbFab. You have Edina (Eddy), the flamboyant, wild haired drama queen who's supposedly working in PR but is basically rich off alimony payments, who hates her ex-husband and mother, loves pills and drugs of any kind, and over exaggerates everything from her movements to her wardrobe. Then you have Patsy, the young-in-mind chain smoker who usually has her platinum blond hair in an expert twist. She was born to a hippie mother and never knew her father. She's an advocate of younger men, liquor, face lifts, and picking fights in Eddy's defense. Add to that mix Saffron (Saffy), Edina's normal, plain, "dull as dishwater" daughter who's desperate to move into her university's residence halls to escape the hell that is her home, where she must take care of Edina, endure daily criticisms and vitriolic comments from Patsy, and help her grandmother. Basically, Eddy and Patsy get into the most ridiculous adventures, hatch the craziest schemes, and constantly try to prove to those around them that they are as absolutely fabulous as they believe themselves to be.
So you see, if you're not watching this show, you should be. It still airs on BBC America and you can actually find episodes on VHS for very little, or buy seasons on DVD for equally affordable prices. But all that background knowledge is just so you can adequately enjoy the fashion collage I put together with these lovely and fab ladies in mind! This one is inspired by Eddy, just so you know. Enjoy!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Okay, someone out there had to get that Sandi Thom reference. No? Alright, alright, I'll stop. Because what this post is really about is my guitar! That I bought! Today! That's right!
And what you may not know about me (which is understandable, because even though I put most of my life out here on my baby of a blog, there are shitloads of things I've kept private, which probably doesn't make me the right kind of blog owner), is that I've forayed into the world of guitaristry before. Actually, I play a multitude of instruments: piano, flute, and the drums, my real musical passion. Instruments and music and writing are the only stress relievers I have. But back when my friends and I were in our seminal girl band, Russell Betty and the Corrigans (an obscure Great Gatsby reference and the fourth and final name we decided on), I was destined to learn all the instruments.
This was long before I ever saw or knew of the Coathangers or Grand Ole Party, and learned that the drummer and lead singer of a band could actually be one and the same, and at the time I thought the only way for me to sing the songs I wrote was to be a lead guitarist. So at it I went, borrowing my bandmate's acoustic and tab book, using a pink clothes button as a pick, and strumming away while holed up in my room for hours. From those weeks of musical encampment, I mastered only two chords: C and F and constructed sappy, whining folk songs from them.
And now, two years later, I am basically starting from scratch, having forgotten everything I ever learned. I held my guitar and it was almost like meeting an old friend with whom you used to do everything but whose name you seem to have misplaced, despite the many memories.
Hopefully these nine months I have left of school will provide me more than enough fodder to start creating some really good music and hopefully this guitar will bring me some much needed peace of mind.
I'm gonna be the next Beck! I'll be Becky!
Did anyone catch that? It was a play on the Leeds band Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly. Yeah, I figured my obscure musical tastes were mine alone. Um, anyways....
Do you like to draw? Can you actually draw? Well? Do you have any imagination? Do you wear tights?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, then this is the contest for you! So NYLON is partnering up with BeBaroque (the leg accessories company) to help you (yeah, you!) create the ultimately awesome DIY ever, your own pair of customized tights! All you have to do is download BeBaroque's templates from NYLON's Flickr account and color the pictures in or do your thing and draw your socks off!
Apparently, if you win said design contest, BeBaroque will send you three pairs of...um tights and socks, I guess, and they'll sell your personalized pantyhose all over their site! Can you say "famous" boys and girls?
So get busy sketching, mon petite artistes! If ever there were tights I wanted to wear, they would be designed by you guys!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Since Young People Fucking is no longer playing in theatres (but will be on DVD October 14), and I needed something to appease my distraught little heart, I'm going to see this tonight. I'm not really one for subtitled films since they require you to pay so much attention to the movie, but being the Francophile I am, I cannot refuse a good French film. Peep the trailer below, agree with me, then become insanely jealous that we are not extremely good friends with each other's phone numbers so I am unable to text or call you to invite you to come with. Au revior!
"Girl Cut In Two"
Sorry if this trailer doesn't have subtitles, but the one that does is on the IMDB. Of course, that version can't be embedded. Whatevs. Intrigue and murder have no language barriers!
I have never understood the allure of Axe Body Spray. Strike that. I was in high school once. I get it. 14 and 15 year old boys think bathing in it will get them well-endowed blond pigtailed European girls that look good in bikinis just like in the commercials. That's cool. They have about two more years to learn that usually the only girls that date dudes that smell like that are of the Jersey Shore, Staten Island variety. Not saying, just saying.
Even still, I have a hard time finding the demographic this commercial would appeal to. Maybe bakers? Guys who work in grocery stores? Maybe they are looking to capitalize on girls' period cravings. Also let me say this is one of the scariest fucking things I've seen in a commercial since Ronald McDonald. Kthx.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Anyone who knows me well pretty much knows that aside from very rare ocassions, there is basically no filter from my brain to my mouth. I tend to say anything, anytime, usually for no real reason. I'm thinking of making this a daily feature, since I always say at least one weird thing a day. Maybe, maybe not. But for now, let's take a look back at weird shit I've said in the past.
"You make me so mad I wish I could grow a million fists and then punch you with all of them."
"I didn't pay ten dollars to stare at the backs of dudes' heads, I paid ten dollars to see some naked women!"
"She looked like the grown up version of those scary little pageant girls."
"I'm convinced the place where she used to live didn't have doors, it just had open walkways, because she doesn't know how to close a door without slamming it."
"We're going to the park. Oh, um, nevermind, no we're not. I'm going to commit suicide instead."
"Your toothpaste smells like ham."
"Can you mail me some quarters so I can do my laundry?"
"I don't know the Heinrich Manuever!"
"You choked into my glass of water!"
"Well you could have at least asked me something exciting, like 'Are you hungry?'"
"The dentist was drilling my teeth forever. It sounded like an Animal Collective song."
"Hurricane Ike is a gas killer!"
"That dog is a hypochondriac!"
"I like candy corn. It tastes like sugar and wax."
We all remember the ish that went down back in the day when Tupac got assassinated. There wasn't a movie made about it, but they released like 70 albums in his honor. No such musical vigil was crafted upon the death of Biggie. In that absence, a few (or some, or a whole crew of, who knows) people got together, did some research with Big's mom, and then chose a kid who looked like lil Big. And then they held these auditions. And then they made this trailer.
I don't know about you, but I'm "hypnotized."
So now that we've gotten cable at the apt, I've been watching television 24/7 to cope with any bad feelings I have. TV is such a good distraction because it gives you a break from your life, but it does it in one or half hour bursts, so once the laughtrack subsides and the end credits roll, you can pick your flabby ass up off the couch and remember you owe 600.00 for rent and the only things you haven't consumed are a cup of instant mashed potatoes and a can of string beans you don't even remember buying.
And then today we got the cable company to install a cable box so I (okay...we) could get hooked up with all the fancy channels I didn't get to watch before, like G4, the Lifetime Movie Network...and BBC America. Which is fucking. Amazing. The only thing I would love to add to the network is GlobeTrekker, but we can't have everything, now can we?
I swear, if I could only have like five channels, I would have the CW, vh1, G4, a news channel, and the BBC. I can literally turn on the TV and watch episodes of Absolutely Fabulous, Coupling, (the best version of) the Office, Jamie Oliver At Home. Gavin and Stacey, and now...Skins. I guess I'll get into that show now that I don't have to get all e-savvy to watch it. (Also, I had no idea that little boy from About A Boy grew up to be in that show! Whoa he got...aged!)
I mean, it just doesn't get any better than this. Oh wait, yes it does. I can also watch The Graham Norton Show, Dr. Who, and How Clean Is Your House? not to mention MI-5, Monty Python's Flying Circus, and the supremely sophisticated BBC News.
It's almost as if everything becomes funnier and more interesting once you throw in a bitchin' accent and a steering wheel on the right side!
Anyone else get BBC America? No? Sucks for you! Hahahaha! Sorry...that was insensitive. I'm going to go back to watching Coupling and mimicking their accents. Lucky for me I've seen this episode before so I know what they're going to say before they say it. Good on ya!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
A weird/inappropriate conversation between me and my boyfriend last night:
Me: I keep meaning to go to Victoria's Secret and buying some new lingerie.
Him: You don't have to.
Me: But I want to get something nice. I've been thinking, "I wonder if he'll notice if I show up with the same bra and panties."
Him: Probably not. To be honest with you, lingerie is nice, I mean, it's nice to have something to look at, but it's all coming off.
Me: So I could be wearing anything?
Me: So I could wear one of those bunny themed delivery outfits?
Me: So I could dress up as Ronald McDonald?
Him: Please don't do that.
Me: So I can't wear anything.
Sry guys, it's a slow day?
Monday, September 22, 2008
I know this show has been spoken about once before and also a million times before. But dammit, this shit is just getting doper and doper as the season unfolds. When I first got here, I watched the episodes I missed online, but now that I have cable again, I can keep up to date.
So far we've seen Don find a new psuedo-mistress (the old yet seductive Bobbie Barrett) and now Betty's starting to catch on. She's confronted Don, but it's futile since he just continues to lie about it. Betty's also starting to blossom into her own independent person, which is pretty interesting to see. Peggy's still the same, trying to get her life back together after giving away custody of her baby, but now she's hanging out with Father Gill, the awesome guitar player and strangely aloof/helpful friend boy. She's also thriving in her new job as junior copywriter. Joan's got a fiance and her boobs seemed to have gotten bigger. But maybe that's just me. Sadly, the random single mother Helen Bishop they brought on last season isn't getting any script play but maybe they'll bring her back? And is anyone lusting after Betty and Joan's clothing? Like, do they even make dresses like that anymore? I think not.
Anyone else totally loving the new season?? Oh yeah and if you are not watching this you fail. Kthxbai!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Normally this would be an EVBNO style post I guess...but it's just me! Yesterday I was determined to get out of the apt. My mom left me a text suggesting I take my bike and go riding at Venice Beach...and that sounded fine...until I remembered beach=humidity. Black girls have this thing where unless they have access to a flat iron, an electrical outlet, and a mirror, they will not let anything happen to their hair. That means no pool, no rain, and especially no humidity. It's like the silent killer, ya'll. So I voted nay on la playa and decided to stay inland instead.
I went to Silverlake (which is actually a really great place if you get past the general superiority vibe and don't mind if people ask you how long it takes for your bangs to grow out or talk to you about music and politics like they're the same thing) and got lunch at Psychobabble Cafe. I was so tempted to take a photo of my meal because it looked and tasted fantastic but I was sort of being stared down, so I didn't. But it was amazing. I had a cheese panini, Caesar salad and mint tea. Gawd, sometimes eating healthy IS good. Who knew, right??
After that, I parked and walked to Berda Paradise. On the way, I got weird, incredulous looks from everyone on the street. I think Rumer Willis is right. I think I dress more like a New Yorker than an Angeleno. Hmmm...anyway I was wearing my Missbehave X Nails Did tee, a pair of black tights, and white flats. Didn't go over so well I suppose.
Anyway, if you don't know what Berda Paradise is, it's this uber amazing thrift store that works in conjunction with the Sunset Free Clinic so the proceeds from what you buy there go to the Clinic! So you can have fun shopping and give someone a free test for Chlamydia! Sharing is caring...So like I was saying, Berda Paradise has just about everything from books, clothing, hats, bags, shoes, records, vintage sunglasses...glass bottles, if that's your thing...I found a skirt and a sweater that were adorable, and then, oh, the records! I got two Petula Clark vinyls, an old Billie Holiday pressing, and a Barbra Streisand record.
Did I ever tell you guys how awesome I think Babs is? I'll do it sometime.
So after that I drove to Sunset Blvd, went to Amoeba Records and found three seasons of Absolutely Fabulous on VHS for only 1.99 each! I pretty much grabbed them all. Oh and then I had to REbuy that fucking badass Justice record since mine was stolen...all in all I spent way too much money.
Annnnd to wrap this ish up, I had to show my ID just to buy a lighter at the 7-11, I got honked at by an ambulance, the dude at the public parking lot ripped me off, I read on the ticker over the Wachovia bank building that the Hadron Collider will be out of service for at least two months, and MIA's on the side of a building.
I can't wait to do it again! Lookout weekend! Sry for the shittastic pictures. It started getting dark by the time I began shooting snaps. Ah well!
So it sort of came to my attention as I was driving along Sunset Blvd tonight that I haven't heard/looked into any new remixes lately. I also haven't posted any good remixes in a long time. Maybe it's the club kid in me, but I love a good remix. Not the warehouse bullshit that's just sounds and blips and electronic squeaks over some basic bass beat. No, I like the real remixes, the reinterpretations and reevaluations...the kind made for you to listen to on your headphones, not when you're hopped up on E and waving pink glowsticks on a sweaty dancefloor. Although those are fun nights too!
And seeing as I once aspired to be one of those DJs that specialized in the club scene (that's a whole other story altogether!)...you know, the kind you read about on Missingtoof that make those monthly mini-mixes (whoa alliteration!)...I have a shit ton of good remixes just lying around. So here's my WNTR RMX PLYLST (or my winter remix playlist. I thought it looked cooler abreeved, yes?) And I know it's still a month or two until full blown winter, but...well don't get so caught up in the details, okay??
WNTR RMX PLYLST
Crystal Castles v Health: "Crimewave (Sinden Remix)"
Paper Route Gangstaz: "Bama Gettin Money (Diplo Remix)"...this one is one of my fave jams!
Bloc Party: "Hunting for Witches (RAC Remix)"...the only remix of this song I haven't already posted...I guess it's pretty remix-able!
Glass Candy: "Clowns (Ssion Remix)"...does anyone remember Glass Candy? I talked about them awhile back...
Klaxons: "Atlantis to Interzone (True Psuedo Remix)"
Now download these rmxs, turn up your laptop's speakers reeeeally loud, and be musically cultured jerks everywhere! Yay!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I think I'm going to see this today. V and I saw this on the marquee and the title alone sold us, but the movie actually seems really good. Those Canadians....all up in ur theeaterz, makin sex mooviez. Will report back after when I can properly review this piece of cinema!
Young People Fucking is no longer playing in theatres. Or at least not the Sunset 5. Take a brief second to mourn. Luckily, YPF will be out on DVD October 14. I will be buying it. That is all.
I can't afford to live here. I just can't. I should have stayed in Atlanta, moved in with boyfriend, and spent my nights getting blackout drunk with my friends. Every time I look at the price of studio apartments, my eyes water up. 900.00 is a ridicul0us amount to pay for 400 sq ft.
Maybe I am whining. Probably. I don't know anyone to live with. I can't move out of the Valley...I have to be close for school...I don't have a lot of money...I have nowhere to go...I'm living with awful people...My life is one big jumbled mess of problems...I haven't done my laundry for a month because I never have any quarters on me...That is beside the point...I had to be different...I had to get out...Now I have to go back...Thank god the year is almost over...I put too much pressure on myself...I can't use BBM...I can't afford to have the internet turned back on for my BlackBerry...I'm spending my Friday night alone watching Spongebob and listening to old Cat Power...I wish I had my drum set here...It was my best friend and my emotional release...I saw a small acoustic guitar at Target for 56.00 and seriously considered buying it...I tried to learn guitar twice and both times I never got past three chords...Most songs are just three chords though...I wanna start a band and then have my drums Fed-Exed to me...I fucked up my job interview on Wednesday...I guess I have to start over...My roommate told me she didn't have any respect for me this morning...Everything that has happened to me before tonight has turned into a fuzzy memory...I just want to live somewhere else and buy up every 1.00 Saint candle at Wal-Mart...
"Time passes slow. The minutes stand still. Don't want to look, but know that I will. I hate the moon, when the night has hurt you so bad, that it's killed every day that you have, and it's left your heart heavy and somber."
- the Chapin Sisters, "I Hate the Moon"
Friday, September 19, 2008
Even though I'm on Myspace chatting it up with my favorite bitches day in and day out, I never do those silly surveys. You know, the ones that pop up as bulletins? That everyone and their mama fills out and "passes on"? With questions like, do you love someone right now? or have you given the third person in your top 8 a blow job lately? You know, simple, easy and fun to answer queshes like that.
So, after saying that, I have never done a survey. Until now. I got this one from Alex. She's such a Myspace whore. (Just kidding! You rock! Love you, mean it!) Anyway, supposedly, this is the adult survey for Myspace. It's fifty questions but I have dumbed it down to twenty (I think) so hang on to your hats bitches!
What bill do you hate payin
The phone bill. Damn peak hours.
Top Flr, ATL
If you could
I would have saved my money, bought better clothing, and stayed in Atlanta
What do you reall
Sleeping! But I have to do math homework.
What did you want to be when you grew up?
A forensic specialist. Yeah, it's a weird dream for a twelve year old.
Why did you choos
Because Blood Is The New Black tees are comfy to sleep in!
What are your thoug
It would be cheaper for me to ride a horse to school. Poop maintenance isn't that hard.
When will I ever get a full night of sleep?
Get up early
Hustlers get up early.
What is your favor
Probably Minnie Mouse. You can find a picture of me and my cousin taken around '93 where we're wearing matching Mickey and Minnie mouse hats.
Go to the strip club.
Lakes usually smell or the water will kill you. Oh yeah, so I guess beach. But then sand gets in orifices it doesn't belong in. So...can I choose sidewalk?
Do you own prope
Just this wagon I'm draggin.
Hoegaarden. PBR is disgusting.
Who from high schoo
The kid I bought my weed from.
Well Alex put me for this question, but in her honor, I would say Alex. Or Charlie Day. Or Michael Phelps. Who am I kidding? I just want to fuck Michael Phelps.
Last book you read?
Babyville, by Jane Green. I'm trying to work my way through Saving Fish From Drowning by Amy Tan, but I am failing.
Do you have a teddy
Yeah, about twenty of them. They're all in a gang.
Somewhere in Calif
Someone else's house.
Happy viernes bitchesss!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Ever feel hell bent on world domination? Do you sometimes get an inkling to take the world and all the shit in it over? Are you one of those people that feels like you could run the world the best...or at least sell it away the best.
Now you can!
Remember Monopoly, that boring ass board game that is supposedly "fun, competitive, and fast paced" but is really tedious, kinda uninteresting, and takes about two weeks to play? Well fuck the old Monopoly, with super trivial locations like Baltic Ave and St. Charles Ave and other places to which you've probably been but of which you feel like you've never heard! No more baby stuff! Now it's serious! How serious?
G's and Gents, I present to you: Monopoly Here and Now: The World Edition.
Instead of buying streets, you can buy cities like Toronto, New York, London, Jerusalem, and Shanghai! I always wondered what it would be like to own Montreal! Apparently, America voted on which cities should be in the game. But that seems a little weird since only like two or three American cities are represented. Oh well, semantics!
So go out and conquer the world! And then sell it for a million Monopoly dollars! The American way!
So when you're living in hell (ohai, like me!), a few things become your saving grace...i.e. the reasons you don't just bitch all your roommates, trash their rooms, get the cable (that's in your name, obvi) transfered to some nonexistent location, drive off and go live in your car till you can afford to live somewhere else.
For me, they're Homestyle waffles, grape Shasta, powdered doughnuts, Missbehave, text messaging..and TV!
I love television. It gets me through the hard times and gives me something to think about when I'm spacing out in Religious Studies. Plus it's my motivation to come home every night instead of just saying "fuck it" and whittling away my savings at the strip club. (BTW, V I went by the Body Shop today at 5 fucking 30 in the afternoon and it was actually open! Who's in there for the rush hour strip crowd I wonder?)
So, what was I talking about? Oyeah. The telly. And how much I love it. Because I do. But what I love more is when utterly amazing and cool shows get picked up for another season! At the end of each season, I wait for about two months on baited breath, preparing myself for the news that producers didn't sign on for another four or five months. But when that doesn't happen, I get all excited and do a little dance because it means I get to see my favorite shows all over again! But better because they are new!
Now speaking of new shows, here's what's coming up in terms of the new fall seasons of great rehashed TV programming:
Thurs, Sept 18 10:00 pm, FX
It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia: I fucking love this show for a myriad of reasons, but mostly because it's hilarious, unconventional, and they say "shit" a lot! Plus I own all three seasons and since I've already watched them at least 32983840290403 times, I can't wait to see something new from the Paddy's crew! Ohai, and here's this amazing primer video for your perusal. I'm going back to Philly!
Mon, Sept 29 8:00 pm, NBC
Chuck: I never got into this show when it was on NBC but for some reason when Sci-Fi started airing it I was all over this shit like black people on Dallas BBQ. I love it. Chuck is so cute and sweet and I love how he works for the CIA but his day job is at some Best Buy style corporation. Classic. Here's a taste of it, since NBC won't let me embed the video. Weirdos.
Wednesdays 10:00 pm, Bravo
Top Design: So this show actually just started and after what went on last season, I was pretty much expecting all the drama, style, and black lacquer I could handle. Sadly, I can't say that's what's going on right now. But I have high hopes for this season. Mostly due to the addition of British panelist/judge/whatever India Hicks. She wins for coolest name and best accent!
Yay for TV! But, now, let's take a moment to mourn the ongoing loss of I Hate My 30s, one of the most awesome shows ever. The writing was amazing. Plus a non-drag version of Liam Sullivan and a dragged up Kelly were on there. And the coffee shop owner was...um...God? I think?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
For the longest time, perhaps in history, Smarah was trying to teach me how to use BBM. (Now that I've disguised her name I feel a bit better about saying it) Email after email, she was giving me the simplest directions and yet I was not comprehending how things should work. She was kind and repeated things for my benefit, even though said convo was taking place in the wee hours of the morning. I was lost and confused. She continued to take things slow, the same pace at which my mind processes information. Things were lost in translation. Mostly on my part. Finally, there was some clarity and things got easier. A little.
With that said, technology and I don't get along. I don't really understand how a Blackberry even functions. When I got it, it was because I thought it was "soooo cute." I have to read manuals to master taping shows on my VCR. Then I have to use trial and error because I didn't understand the manual. Then I have to hide the fact that I have a VCR and watch cassettes on it because people say I am living in the past.
I have never upgraded my computer. It is an original Windows ME, bought at the turn of the 21st century. And before that, I was using a very lame Windows computer from the late 90's. Prior to that, my mom and I were using her original Windows PC circa 1989-ish. My laptop was a hand-me-down from my mother.
If I could have it my way, they would still make radios with tape players. I would jam all day to my Janet Jackson and Spice Girls cassettes. I don't understand these new flat screen TVs. Cars that lock themselves scare me. I am still amazed by automatic seatbelts.
I do appreciate mp3 players, but if my Zune wasn't stolen awhile back, I would still be using the first...um...generation? I haven't wandered into the Apple store for over a yr. And the first time I went wasn't even for the...um...Apple stuff? But I do like the word Apps. I'll start using it regardless of the context, I think.
Even still, technology and I go together like cherry coke and surge protectors.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Today, after I got out of my Religious Studies class, things were sweet! Even though I almost fell dead asleep in that class (like always), my professor wrapped things up early and I got to get home twenty minutes before I normally do. So I made a late lunch. (I'm at school from 12:30 to 3:15 so I don't get time for a REAL lunch. Did you get that joke V? It was that Desperate Housewives of NYC thing I was telling you about. Nevermind. The joke is lame now.)
I had finished preparing myself lunch - grilled cheese and alphabet soup, the meal of champions - when the A/C kicked on. It gets pretty cold in this apt so I went to my room to get a sweater and that's where IT happened.
My roomie Melissa's friend Cindy is over. Everything in my room looks normal. I smile at Melissa. Cindy says to me, "Hey, do you mind if I read your magazine?"
Nylon? Sure. Whatevs. Cosmo? Go ahead! I'll give it to you. Elle? Eh...I guess. Under the Radar? Where did you find that? But she isn't holding any of those.
As she's asking me this very simple, easy to answer question, I see she's holding my brand new copy of Missbehave.
Not only does that mean she took it off my desk without even thinking to ask me, but she's just flipping through it nonchalantly like things are cool as a pool! I falter, try to tell her that magazine isn't an ordinary one...I can't put it into words, so all I say is:
"Oh...you're already holding it...Um, I guess, but be very careful with it. It only comes out four times a year and it's sort of special. And I had to go to the Promenade to get it."
She shrugs, says alright, and then Melissa asks what kind of magazine it is. I can't put that into words either. There's so much super mega ultra awesome-ness going on that I can't say it in a few succinct sentences. I mumble:
"It's like a modern women's magazine. These ladies in New York put it out four times a year." FAIL! The one time I could possibly convert a chick to the dark side/testfy! and I ruin it. So sheepishly, I put on my sweater and shuffle out into the living room so I can eat/watch some Bravo.
Cable is a godsend. Roommates are not.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Here at the Disco, I would like to think it's my responsibility to bring you lovely ladies and gentlemen nothing but hotness, when and if ever possible. This one is a little old, but even a year after the fact, I can still put this track on in the car and laugh just as hard as I did when I first heard it.
We all know Cobra Starship are demigods. For Chrissake, they have a keytar player! And she's a chick! Plus Gabe Saporta makes wearing tight pants super manly and "Snakes On A Plane (Bring It)" was amazing. It was the sole reason I bought the movie soundtrack...ohai, and the 45 version. Anyway, I heard this song on their Myspace awhile back but I noticed it never really got out. Easily the single which could have launched them into emo/pop/mainstream oblivion and they never did anything with it. So I share this baby with you. Mazel Tov!
This shit is supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
I found this in my My Documents folder. It was written a long time ago, but had never been uncovered since the original time of entry since my Microsoft Word trial period expired and I never bought the program...until now. So here you go ladies. Let's see how much you wanna wear pants now!
Oh, and on an unrelated note, I accidentally told my boyfriend that I got an offer to start blogging for Missbehave. Then tonight, while talking to him and musing that I felt like I had nothing on which to focus my energy. He said, "What about your writing on Missbehave?" Ai-ya.
"I Hate Pants" by Erika - written 1/4/2008
For some odd reason, my place is always way too cold in the winter. Don’ t get me wrong; I’m not Sherri Shepard or anything; I know winter equals hellaciously chilly weather, especially in places like Canada and Rhode Island where it’s winter like, 24/7. Gawd…if I moved up there and opened a cute winter-wear store with like, oh, I don’t know, Bedazzled knit caps and embroidered gloves and shit, man, I would be so rich, dude…But I digress. I thought the whole point of having a place of shelter was so you could live in a climate unlike the one around you. If it’s balls hot outside you want to go inside and cool off. The same is true in the winter. If the nerdy guy on the Weather Channel says it’s like, thirty degrees (ten with the wind chill) outside, I want to be living in sweet, sweet warmth. Ha! unto those who did not purchase sufficient heating/cooling systems. Everyone knows
Sunday, September 14, 2008
This picture was taken at my mom's house last summer. I did not want said picture to be taken. Note the extreme casual wear I'm rocking. That t-shirt belongs to my mother. It somehow has holes in it in very odd places. That was back when my bangs grew free and happily and people mistook me for a 15/16 yr old alot. But I do look skinny in this picture. Ohai, and this is my bf sitting next to me. So I guess you finally get to see him. His name is Sam. He's 23 and he always buys the beer. He used to have very cute short, curly hair, but he shaved it off and now he thinks he looks like a chick magnet. Dudes are crazy sometimes.
I am not one for admitting defeat or incorrectness. In fact I rarely ever do it. If someone is right and I'm wrong and it's obvious, then I have no choice but to say, "Oh I'm wrong," or "Oh I fucked up. Sorry." But those times are few and far between.
Back in Atlanta, I was so unhappy. My close friends didn't get me, the dudes I did like to hang out with always had previous engagements, my bf spent a lot of time working, my mom couldn't identify, and even my dog was slowly starting to hate me. Well, maybe. She started ignoring me alot more and in turn I stopped feeding her. Just kidding.
LA was my ticket to happiness. The cure for my sorrows, my hopelessness, this feeling of being completely lost in my own life. I kept telling people I was leaving the South and never EVER coming back. Most people just went "ohhhh" and remarked how lucky I was. I got cold feet a few times but the reassurance of the people around me that I would be fine kept me going.
I spent my first evening in LA by myself, eating El Pollo Loco, listening to my Niko LP, and sitting on my bed with the window open, a warm breeze carrying in the sounds of far off conversations and outside noise. I texted my bf: You know what Sam? Sitting here on my bed, looking out at the blue sky ad palms and golden buildings and listening to Niko and eating chicken out of a Styrofoam container...I'm truly happy.
Fast forward a month and a half later. I'm on speaking terms with only two of my roommates. I have three friends, V notwithstanding, and they're kind of cool. All I do is go to school and then come home, day in and day out. I filter through so many emotions daily. I haven't been laid for almost three months now. I pretty much take care of this apartment on my own. I'm hopeful, but at the same time discouraged.
But every time I go to Hollywood I'm reminded of why I love LA so much. The constant excitement, perpetual ADD stimulation, the opportunities and the people and, most recently, the strip clubs, make it an amazing place to live. It's truly like no other place on earth. Plus I'm an LA kid at heart...my hometown is Inglewood (holla!) and a ton of the pictures of me smiling and happy as a kid were taken when we lived in Los Angeles.
What gets me is that I don't live in LA (the city). Of course I live in LA (the county), but I really live in the Valley. It's ironic actually, because when my mom and I came here awhile back, I thought to myself, "This must be where people come to die." But then I think to myself, well, when I graduate I can live in LA. I can live in the heart of W Hollywood, which has been a longtime dream of mine. I can get my magazine ambitions underway. I can head out to strip clubs every night.
So I thought to myself, why should I stay in the Valley if it makes me unhappy to do so? Longer story shorter, I've made the decision to go back to Atlanta, transfer to the state college, and finish my education there. Then, when I'm ready, I can come back to LA. I love it too much to stay away forever.
I guess a part of me wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. That I could handle being 2000 miles away from my fam and friends and still make it. I think that every time I don't call someone I know and I rely on myself to just "figure it out," as my bf likes to say, I am proving myself. Every time I use my map of LA instead of calling my mom, I'm doing it. Every time I meet someone new because I made the first move to talk to them I'm doing it. And I feel good enough with this month and a half, so I know I'll be even prouder of myself nine months from now when the school year's over. And that quote JEWELS said only made things better.
But a part of me feels like this is admitting defeat, saying that I can't stick with anything without eventually just returning to what's easy and comfortable. Because I'd almost rather be minorly unhappy and take the easy way out than be majorly unhappy but know I'm doing what's right.
In any case, this time next year I'll be blogging to you good people from the dirty, smelly city of Atlanta. It's not a place I'm fond of, but the gang from Tilly and the Wall really love it, so I guess there's my consolation prize.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Remember how I was saying that V and I found a radio station that was playing all 80s all weekend? Well they played a ton of great 80s jams that ranged from the ubiquitous to the rare and awesome sauce. So since it's been a day and these goddamn catchy tunes are still in my head, I'd like to share them with you. Come on girls!
Madonna "Lucky Star"
Yeah, I didn't actually take this picture.
So last night saw yet another installment of what I'm now going to call E+V's Big Night Out (EVBNO for all you stock analysts). First we headed over to the Third St Promenade in Santa Monica, where we both picked up the newest issue of MissB, which is amazing if you haven't had the pleasure of getting your ProNail-ed hands on it.
While standing in line for the bathroom at Starbucks, we were then hit on/accosted by some guy with a heavy Spanish accent who complemented me about my shirt and then asked me where the Valley was. It was weird. Word. Then a strange twelve year old came up to me and high fived me.
After that, around midnight/ 1am, we headed over to the Sunset Strip where I was completely determined to have some delicious and cheap pizza. Sadly, determination isn't everything, because I never got it. However, we did find a radio station that played all 80s all weekend, so we got to jam out to 80s synth pop dance tunes the entire night.
It was just as we were getting tired-ish and forlorn (though still energetic from the Annie Lennox and Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam), I spotted The Body Shop.
That's right lads and lasses, V and I spent our night in Hollywood at the strip club. And it was awesome. After I got past the sad fact that I couldn't afford to eat after paying the 10.00 cover and the club didn't serve food, I actually enjoyed myself. V and I are sort of obsessed with this one stripper, who after some research, is apparently named Isis. She was/is amazing. First of all, she's got this Mexican vibe going on so she was wearing this cute-ish belly dancer style outfit and the most fucking ridiculous pair of six-inch stilettos that made her immediately earn my and V's respeto. She glided and danced and did a few acrobatic tricks that were super cool.
But for the most part that club is crapsicles on ice. The music skipped, one of the dancers took off her skirt and started "ahem" touching herself. Oh and then one of the girls started dancing to Pat fucking Benatar. Now I can never listen to "Hit Me With Your Best Shot," for more than obvi reasons. Outside the club we got propositioned with an offer to jump into some dude's party bus, but luckily for me I have the best excuse EVER: "Um, sorry, but I have to get home. I live in the Valley." Works like a charm every fucking time.
Um, and then I got a parking ticket, V and I went to In N Out Burger, my roommate was a rude bitch this morning, and the trains don't run on Saturdays. Salud!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Gawd, I love cupcakes. I mean, they're like a delicious combo of cake, doughnut, muffin, and icing! Plus they're adorable and come in all forms of Technicolor. And if you make a sign saying you're giving away free versions of them, people will show up for anything!
And there's no cupcake artist I like half as much as the uber amazing, super talented, and incredibly cooltastic Naomi Henderson. Student by day and baked goods artiste by night, she's the cutest little Aussie ever! Okay, except for Curtis Stone...and Kylie Minogue is Australian right? Or is she from NZ...not important.
What is important is how good Naomi is at cupcake decoration and baking. I've never seen anything like it! She makes the cupcakes by herself from scratch and then decorates them! She even did her own set for her 25th birthday. Here's an interview she did with Cupcakes Take The Cake and here are a few examples of her work after, you guessed it, the nonexistent jump!
Hello Naomi, hello awesome!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Well this morning was the best start for a day I could have asked for. Someone in an apt below me must have said "Hey, let's start a fire." Naturally everyone around him agreed. And by doing said suggestion, they set off all the fire alarms in every apartment and the hallways. Just imagine those fire drills you used to have back in middle and high school, the loud ones with no warning. Okay, now imagine waking up to one at 8:30 am.
I thought it was my alarm, so I turned that off, but the noise continued, so I thought "Oshit, let me check the kitchen." Nothing. I was the only one home. So I grabbed my key and walked out into the hallway where the noise was unbearable. Five minutes later, I'm standing outside with the other tenants, no shoes on, wearing just a t-shirt and leggings, hair unbrushed, face unwashed, teeth unbrushed...I had just a little more dignity than when I have to do my walk/drive of shame home.
The fire department arrives, assesses the sitatuation; we watch as the flooded water comes pouring out of the little gutters underneath the apartment. People are moaning because they have to get to work/class/breakfast/something. I'm moaning because I still had two more hours to sleep. So now I'm back, wide awake, forced to actually get ready to go to school.
So, yeah, thanks guys for giving me the best wakeup I've had...ever! I really apreesh it, really I do! I love the feeling of cold morning air when I'm wearing next to nothing. Oh! And I really like it when people try to have extended convos with me when I haven't brushed my teeth! I owe you guys one!
I spent a good bit of my childhood years with my eyes glued to Nickelodeon. I loved books, but my mom dropped me off at my grandmother's house a lot and I didn't have a way to transfer the books to a different location. So I watched TV instead. Or beat up my little cousin. But those are different stories for another day. Funnily enough, Nickelodeon used to be a legitimate entertainment source. Back in the days before Zoey 101, Spongebob Squarepants, or iCarly, Nick was pretty fucking cool. So I decided to put together a list of Nick's coolest (and sadly, forgotten) television shows. Rugrats isn't on this list, although it was the cutest and coolest cartoon and I watched it from its '91 inception to about '02, but it went on to get weighed down by new characters and corrupted by lame movies and spinoff series'. Anyway, this is the list. Feel free to add your own since it's been a minute since these shows have even been on.
1. The Mystery Files of Shelby Woo: This show was the shit. First, there was an Asian family on Nickelodeon and they had more depth than the fam from that Jackie Chan cartoon. Plus Mr. Miyagi was the grandfather and Shelby solved crimes! She was like the Asian Nancy Drew. She was...Shelby Woo!
2. All That: Do I need to explain how this show was cool? It was originally marketed as an "SNL for kids" and everything was super copasetic and hella funny until the cast started changing and Kenan Thompson, Kel Mitchell, Lori Beth Denberg, and Amanda Bynes left and then, um, Nick Cannon joined the show...but I'll always remember the "Cooking with Chocolate," "Ask Ashley," Repairman," and "Vital Information" skits. Did you know the theme song was sung by TLC? Back in the day, I had the soundtrack on cassette. Actually, let me go find that tape...
3. Are You Afraid of the Dark?: My mom actually wouldn't let me watch this show until I was seven because of the Y-7 logo that came up, but I used to sneak episodes in when she wasn't around. It scared the shit out of me, espesh the opening scenes when the Midnight Society would come and set up the story they were about to tell. I had mad nightmares from that shit though.
4. Clarissa Explains It All: One word: rad. Oh wait, three words: rad as fuck. Melissa Joan Hart was amazing as Clarissa and she always wore the coolest clothing (well for the mid 90s anyway) and I used to love when she would stop the scene and draw words and pictures. But I hated that Ferguson!
5. AAAHHH! Real Monsters!: If ever Nick dabbled in the dark and macabre, this show was it. It was about monsters who attended some kind of monster academy, taught by this super spastic, super flamboyant schoolteacher who wore chaps and boots, but as far as I can remember, no shirt. There was a smart girl, a red guy with an oddly high voice, and a short dude that held his eyeballs. It was quirky and creepy and yet still amazingly childlike.
6. Gullah Gullah Island: This show was on really early in the morning, but it was cool because it was fun education. I learned sharing was caring, honesty was the best policy, and how to tiedye a shirt at home. Plus it had a cool theme song and it was set on a fake island! Really, it was set on St Helena Island off the coast of SC.
7. Rocko's Modern Life: The shit. Obvi, the epitome of children's adult programming. It was full of sex jokes that didn't even make a little sense until I was older, but I loved Philbert the turtle and Heiffer the cow. Plus they lived in O-Town. The innuendos were limitless. My mom works at a company like Conglom-O, but Ed Bighead doesn't own it.
8. Taina: This show was on a little later, but I loved it. One of the few shows to feature a Latina lead, it was original and exciting and had attitude. Plus she went to a performing arts school and had wicked cool friends that got her into crazy shit. She paved the way for the craziness that ensues/d in That's So Raven, which sucks/ed btw.
Do you guys know of any I missed? Some up for honorable mention were Animorphs, The Secret World of Alex Mack, Hey Dude!, What Would You Do?, Double Dare, and Hey Arnold! Man, I will always love TV.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Back when I was still in high school and dreaming of going to LA, my mom told me I had to have a thick skin, because not everyone was nice, or accommodating, or considerate. She told me some personal stories and I realized I would have to get a lot tougher and a lot stronger if I wanted to last out there. See, people are very nice in Atlanta. If you were carrying groceries home and like, an orange fell out of the bag but you didn't notice and kept on walking, someone would pick it up and run up to you saying breathlessly, "Here's. Your. Orange." And then you all would smile and life would continue. I certainly was not prepared.
But you know what? The last place I thought would give me any grief was the internet. Maybe I didn't know what I was getting into. Maybe the greats really didn't have it easy. Life on top is rough...the air is thin and you have to follow the special baking directions on the Betty Crocker boxes to account, but I love it up here and I'm not coming down.
Which means all you anonymous commenters and people who generally just have something mean to say can pretty much do so. I won't trip for even a second. Someone telling me I'm "obsessed" with Sarah Morrison doesn't make me upset. Espesh because it's not true. Or if someone says I'm trying to hard to be funny. Bitch please, I know I'm funny. I don't need validation for that shit. Or anyone else telling me any other shit that's just plain nasty. It doesn't make me cry, or sad, or hurt, or anything. It makes me laugh that someone would take this much time out of their meaningless life to say something rude to a complete stranger. So go ahead! This blog is an open forum, and although that meant it was for ideas and thoughts to be exchanged respectively from person to person, you random ass people can turn it into a place for mudslinging. This blog isn't my entire life so it's pretty sad if it's yours.
Now if you'll excuse I'm going to continue knocking bitches out the box.
Oh, and in case no one got it, the title of this post is a line from Pulp Fiction, which I watched last weekend because I don't have cable.
So everyone knows I have to move out of my current living situation ASAP! If you don't know that by now, you obvi haven't been purveying the Tumblr. Anyway, so I thought to myself, how can I move this along a little bit? You're thinking..."By getting a goddamn j-o-b already?!" And you're totally right! I'm trying! Today, I drove all the way over to Van Nuys just to look into a position that was already filled! So you see, I'm trying! Pinky promise...
And then I thought, "Why not go to Craigslist? I'm looking for somewhere to live, people are looking for tenants/roommates, etc."
Now you, good people, can find me, Erika, ALLZ over Craigslist like white on rice! Yay! If you're feeling inquisitive, just look into my fab ad!
I don't know about you, but I think it's pretty well written and awesome. I'll be out of here in no time!
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Holla! Just caught a glimpse of the new issue of Missbehave on the website! Sry I don't have a picture so here's a link if you don't find yourself checking the blog every five minutes like I do. I'm overstoked for this shit! And Santogold's on the cover? Like, what, motherfucker?! That's awesome! You know, I was told I looked like Santogold once. Erm...yeah, I think it still counts if it was just an anonymous comment on my blog...erm...So anyway, this issue looks like nothing but pure hotness! Very excited! Now I just have to find a Barnes and Noble in the Valley...
Anyone else super ultra mega excited?!
I love to swear. I try to incorporate "curse words" into my daily vocab as much as possible. I swear in my dreams, on paper, out loud, and in my thoughts. Nothing feels as satisfying as a good, well deserved "Shut The Fuck Up!" It's awesome. Mostly because I think it's sort of interesting and humorous that a few choice four letter words can make some people so uncomfortable. Honestly, with all the other words created to make people wriggle in their seats (enema, cum, cunt, bulge, squelch, and my personal issue word, juggernaut), why take offense to ones that sound so silly? Have you ever heard a toddler swear? It's fucking adorable!
The best thing about cuss words is that they have characters of their own. If some badass chick with a badass attitude said, "Aw, hell naw!" it would pass as acceptable. People would nod or shake their heads in agreement. But if some squeaky clean, penny loafer wearing Brady Bunch extra type girl was to say it, you know everyone would say "Shut up" or just give her the side eye. I find swears fascinating. Up until I was about 7, I thought "shoot" was a cuss word too. I would hesitate when people said "shoot the ball" or when I wanted to ask them something and they said "shoot!"
But once I hit middle school, language in all its forms was free game. And I haven't washed this mouth out with soap since. I love Rated R movies because they swear so much. I watch things on FX because there's less censoring. When I meet a man who can use "fuck" casually and effortlessly, I melt a little. That's what I like so much about V. Anyone heard her speak in real life? That girl's got quite the potty mouth and I love it!
My fave swear is "shit." It's so useful! Like, "oh shit!" or "shit is going down!" or "everything's gone to shit!" When I'm around my mother I have to sub "crap" in, but mentally I'm using "shit." But "bitch" is a promising runner-up. Unless it's used in contempt, the word is pretty much perfect. Ever been called a bitch during sex? It's really hawt! When I see my friends, I go "what up bitches?!" A lot of women seem to get offended by the use of bitch in common everyday settings, although I don't see why. Isn't this another one of those taking the word back from "the man" type sitches? Whatev.
Swear a lot world. I like to hear it!
Catch you bitches later and shit,
Sunday, September 7, 2008
So if you guys have been reading my Tumblr (or even if you haven't really), then you're semi to fully aware of my roommate situation. Silly me for thinking it would be a good idea to stay with three other girls in a two bedroom apartment. Luckily though, two of my roommates are usually gone for the day or gone for the night. Unluckily enough, my bitfchface roommate is the one who is here the most. Like, more than me. Yeah, I know. That is literally all the goddamn time. She's so seriously the roomie from Hell. She's noisy, obnoxious, inconsiderate, snores like a motherfucker, loud.as.fuck., and she has no idea what personal boundaries are. First she sat in the bedroom all day and watched my television (no, go ahead, we don't all have to pay for the electricity at the end of the month or anything) and then, ladies and gents, she fucking used my brush. Not my toothbrush, my fucking hairbrush. There it was when I came home, sitting on MY desk next to MY shit full of HER hair. How do I know? Because she has these ridiculous gold highlights and I just got my hair re-dyed black about two months ago. And she's completely obliv to the fact that we hate her and sometimes want to sleep.
Soooo...I'm currently in the market to move on up! In other words, get out of this hellhole and into a studio apt of my own. A personal, peaceful living space where my boyfriend can stay when he visits and my friends can stay when we party hardy too late. Where I can buy groceries and not have to share a fridge shelf or put my dishes in the sink and have someone else use them. Where no one else will watch my TV dammit! I'm entitled to these things, right?
And thus we reach the crux of my inconveniencing situation. I don't have a job right now. No job, no place for myself. Currently, my mom is helping me out since I thought it was a good idea to come to LA with just 600.00 to my name.
I don't even know why I'm writing this. I was going somewhere with it, but I'm lost. Wah, I need a job. Wah, I need money. Wah, I need help. Wah, I'm going to need someone to post bail because I'm going to kill this bitch I live with. Wah.
We all know about Steven Shein and his respective hawtness. His precision cut woodblocks are insane. I would love the double sided heart pendant and the FUCK necklace. But more than that, I want a Missbehave nameplate. Does anyone remembers the Missbehave necklace from Issue #3? There's only supposed to be four in the world. So if I can't have a goldplated Missbehave logo with a diamond star over the "i", then I'll take this almost-as-cute pink reflective-plexi version. Steven Shein you have delivered once more, and for that, I thank you. Oh, and if you feel like the pink one just isn't dope enough for your taste, you can cop the thicker inlay version.
Yay Steven Shein. Yay Karmaloop. Yay jewelry. Yay.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
So, for me, much of last night, and a good portion of this morning was spent with everyone's favorite Savage Sunshine girl, V. It was probably the longest night/morning of my life. Here is what happened over the course of 10 1/2 hrs we were together.
First, we met up on Hollywood and Vine. "Hello!"s ensued. We both admitted to not really have any knowledge of where were or were going, although Sunset Blvd was supposed to be the end result. Everything started off well enough. We walked down Hollywood Blvd past Normandie, past Little Armenia, and through Thai Town. That's when we started getting really hungry. So we kept walking in search of edibles.
We became more and more lost, so we sat down and laid my map of Metropolitan LA on the ground. We tried to pick out our streets respectively, and then just became resigned to sitting on the sidewalk. That's when this guy walked up with his cowdog. We asked him how to get to Sunset and he pointed us in the direction of straight. He was some kind of art teacher at UCLA and then signaled to Barnsdall Park and Vermont St and Prospect Ave, promising fun and good food, and all-ages type events, since he obvi took us to be younger than we are. There were smiles and "thank you"s and the like, then we pressed on.
After walking for some time, we stumbled upon Pinkberry. Sadly lame and internet obsessed, we agreed that we had to go there last, in order to say, "And then we went to Pinkberry." We moved past it, and stumbled onto some al fresco-ish restaurant where we saw the dudes in the Plain White T's eating and such. The lead singer was all smiles. I didn't recognize him at first, but after some verification with V, it was evident we needed to see them again. And then we walked past a drug deal.
V and I got some delicious Mexican food at Machos Tacos (I got a fish taco, shrimp taco, and mini quesadilla for about 7.00) and then we went to the block directly across from the Plain White T's and their dining area. V tried to get a super stealth picture. Then some assholes drove up in a nice car. We heckled them.
The PWT's soon after left and V and I were soon after hot on their trail. Sadly we lost them, and thus walked and walked and walked and...erm, walked. We walked ourselves all the way to the Los Feliz Village. It seemed pretty nifty. We even saw a million adorable clothing shops and a super hawt tranny wear shop with mannequins with penises and even one that was David Bowie themed. Scary thing was, we both agreed that we would each rock some of the looks we saw. Oh yeah, and then we found the American Apparel, which looked so self absorbed it was practically narcissistic. Oh yeah, and then we stumbled upon a black widow spider, which I totally deducted with some general investigating. I don't know about how prevalent they are in your neck of the woods, but it's pretty fucking cool to see one up close and in the...flesh?
After window shopping, we kept walking until we reached Silverlake. We gawked at the skinny jeaned boys and the cute tiny bakeries. And then we went to Tang's Donuts, Sandwiches, and Ice Cream, where there was a heated battle of chess going on between old people. The donuts were only .65 so I got two and V got three. We like donuts over here.
Then we walked past a bridge that looked just like the one from the Sophomore NYC lookbook, and realized that for as long as we walked, we just weren't getting to the super cool/fun part of Sunset Blvd. It was just getting sketchier. We sat on a wall, pulled out the map, and realized we were just walking into oblivion. We cursed the happy man with the cowdog who talked us into walking all that way. We were tired and our feet hurt and we had to walk all the way back to Hollywood and Vine.
About two or so hours later, we found ourselves very close to where we started. On the way, a homeless man stopped us and was ungrateful/irritated that we gave him 1.60 when we didn't really have a lot of money left. Can you imagine?? And then we walked past some weirdness involving a dude and a box of bras...finally we got back to Hollywood and Vine and not only were we drop dead tired, but our feet felt awful. I'd spent a bit of time just going barefoot out of sheer un-comfort from my shoes, but my feet and legs felt like they were going to vomit, if that makes sense.
Back in the tourist trap this is Hollywood Blvd, we walked over some grates that were blowing hot air. I informed V that I felt...mixed. Both happy and unhappy about the feeling of hot air blowing under me. That happened a lot more that night. As we walked to Hollywood and Ivar, we spotted a group of people doing pot on the corner and begged for a contact high. Then we climbed all the way up Ivar and sat in my car for about twenty minutes.
To make this increasingly long story shorter, we got completely lost trying to get to Pomona and about three hours later, around 5 am, V and I finally made it to her school. Then I got lost briefly and made it home around 6:30-ish am, where I was unable to go to sleep for about an hour and a half due to a delicious and nutritious breakfast of Red Bull and a Butterfinger.
Oh, and now it's about 4 pm and I just woke up. La la la, life is sadfunny sometimes. This Butterfinger still tastes good. Pics and slight proofs of evidence are now up on V's blog for your perusal. Oh, except that wonderfully skilled photograph of the Sunset Junction sign. Enjoy!