Go Hard Or Go Home. I Haven't Been Home Since Birth

(did i mention i love unicorns? no? oh, well i do.)

Ughhh. I wish I could emit an audible sigh over the internet. No wait, nevermind. That kind of sounds like I want to fart over the internet. I don't btw. So you know. But I'm just a little sad. Sarah and Olivia are gone and I really miss them. It was nice to come home to someone saying "hey." And it was nice not to watch TV alone. And to hang out with people who didn't make fun of me or get irritated at me for literally parking myself in front of my laptop and not moving. And I'm gonna miss those Sundays when Sarah would be hungover and drag her pillow and blanket into the living room and sleep the whole day and then wake up at like 8:30pm and just start watching TV and eating. And Olivia's cooking, because it was amazing and she was super nice about the mac & cheese I made (even though I thought it was gross) and she taught me how to eat an artichoke, which tastes weirdgood and requires butter so you know I'm down.

Basically without them here it's just empty silence. I shout at the TV during Tyra and no one laughs. I buy cupcakes and no one goes "Yay!" When I come downstairs no one's fallen alseep in front of the TV. There are no five cheese pizzas in the freezer and no backpack full of cooking supplies in the pantry.

Plus I have been having a few issues in my personal life. Basically, to say I'm ready to get back into dating would be an understatement. Like, soon, really. Throwing all my energy into those skateboarders I see outside in between class isn't doing me any good. Then again, staring them down until they look at me and then looking away probably isn't the best way to go about it.

In any case, I'm fucking tired of being a doormat and a pussy. It's just a bummer that I'm so good at it.

E

Stay Strong In The Face Of Lil Mama, Girl

(hell yeah gifparty!)
Sooooo, in case you didn't know (which would mean you weren't either of the Sarahs in my life - Fondypoo and Morrison), I started writing for an online magazine last week. I was hesitant to divulge all deets since I am now actually representing a company blah blah blah but the internet has always been and will always be my home, so excuse me while I take off my shoes, light a cigarette, grab a can of Snapple, and get comfy.

My first assignment was to review the new Asobi Seksu album, which is thebomb.com, btw. The album drops tomrrow in case you're feeling inclined to pick it up, but in the meantime, allow me to redirect you to the worldwideweb where my article is posted and sitting happily amongst its peers. I'm not gonna lie, I'm fucking excited. I almost jizzed in my pants when I saw it this morning while greedily refreshing my browser, and I called my mom and texted my exbf and then got a text from Sarah F congratulating me, which totally warmed my heart because at the time I was walking in a shitstorm of rain, getting completely soaked (despite the umbrella over my head), and generally looking sadfaced and sobbing loudly.

So yup yup you can read the article here and then send me countless messages about how much you love me, how good of a writer I am, how badly you want to send me monies so I can get a studio apt, how much you want me to be your girlfriend (available!) and so on and so forth.

And might I add that you should listen to The Lonely Island's CD, Incredibad? It's EPIC. Hint: if you liked "Jizz in My Pants" and "I'm on a Boat" then you will probably ENJOY this shit out of this album. Like me. Maybe we can enjoy it together (still available!) over pizza and cookie cake?

Word.

E

Turn Into A Jet (Like A Boss)

(via)

Things have been craze around here y'all. And when I say craze, I mean, eh, mildly worth mentioning, which is craze since it's more than normally happens. Sarah's still here, being awesome, and Olivia moved into a really cute house in LA, which Sarah will go to, one day, probably when I stop making her waffles for breakfast and tortilla strips when she's hungover. So, never. But when Sarah leaves it will officially mean things over here are back to normal, which is kinda sad, because the two of them being here was the most fun I've had in my six months of living in LA. I'm going to miss them. And probably get them a housewarming gift. I have an idea, but MDMA is pretty expensive, so I guess I'll just be making them ordinary brownies. Oh well.

How was everyone's Valentine's day? Sarah and I watched Bridget Jones' Diary and fell asleep on the floor. But the Friday before was fun. Sarah and Olivia and I got drunk and watched Bring It On: All Or Nothing and then I got some cake and then we walked to the liquor store but all I really remember is spilling my drinks a lot and falling and then telling them my plan to get acid with Sarah (the Fonder of the two) and going to Venice and painting with watercolors and then someone said, "Watercolors?!" but I'm not sure if that was a dream or not. Either way, fun.

On the subject of my love life (or lack thereof), I've been attempting to win over the hearts of the scruffy skateboarders on campus, but it's been generally unsucessful. I should perhaps think of better ways to get them to notice me other than staring at them nonstop from across the hall and then greedily eyeing their bags of Taco Bell. But that's just unfair because I don't have the energy to walk to TB. Of course if I had a skateboard I would go there! If I had a skateboard I could make all my transpo dreams come true.

This new Lily Allen album is also completely blowing my mind. Sarah (the Fondest one, again) gave me a copy of it two days ago (she got it on presale because she's so clever) and I've already listened to it four times. I've also put on "The Fear" and cleaned my kitchen while jumping and bouncing around like a crack addict, but be thankful you weren't there to witness that firsthand.

But that's basically it. My life is finally picking up and heading in the direction I envisioned and I'm almost a little proud that it only took 6 months in one of the toughest cities in the US for it to happen. The year is finally starting off for me and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fucking stoked for it. Things still bum me out, get me down, and defeat me. I still stand in front of my kitchen window smoking a cigarette and crying, and I still look to others for strength sometimes, but I also laugh more and love more and live more and that makes it all worth it. I've taken a lot of risks, made a lot of mistakes, and (hopefully) learned from all of them. I'm going to continue to work hard and play harder and if you wanna employ me, I'm a bomb ass employee. I know a lot about a little, but I like to learn and I have a fabulous work wardrobe. Really. I impress myself sometimes. Did I mention I need a job? Just checking.

E

Everything's Better With Porno!

Soooo...as sadcute as it is to admit, I didn't have anything better to do tonight than go see a movie by myself. It was either that or sit home eating those fancypants Stouffer's TV dinners that I bought on sale from Ralph's 10 for 10.00, but those were just glorified Kid Cuisines (remember those? My epic domestic fail mawm basically fed those to me at least three times a week during mid to late childhood), so I chose the former option.

I went to the theatre and after a brief scuffle with a man with a super intense stutter and overflowing amounts of pedo-creepiness (for surrious sir, I don't want a boyfriend on the side and even if I'm lying by saying I'm still in high school, you shouldn't be hitting on me) I sat down to watch this lovely piece of cinema entitled Serbis with the other eight people in the theatre.

I'm not gonna sit here and be like, "Ooooh, it made you think and it was soooo arthouse and good and even though you're not gonna get it, you, like, get it, man. You just get it." Because you won't and it isn't and I didn't and two hours later, I still don't know what I saw. Plus it had subtitles. And the sneak-uppy kind that don't hit you until three scenes into the movie when everyone stops speaking English and starts speaking this English/Spanish/Filipino hybrid and the subtitles kick in.

Um, basically it's about this family that lives in this huge theatre where they also, oh, you know, just happen to show pornos. Pretty run of the mill. All the gays come to the theatre and then sell their bodies (totally just thought of that to the tune of Mariah's "Touch My Body") and so while the movie's running, everyone's pretty much sucking dick for dollars or pesos or chocolate coins or whatever the currency in the movie is (I'm not really sure) and then a goat turns up and then a girl gets pregnant (this is not a spoiler) and trannies give "strutting" lessons. The house is pretty cool though, really big and ornate with a fuckload of stairs. I mean seriously, by now I would think someone might have looked into putting in an elevator or an escalator, but, you know.

Oh and people are naked a lot and there's a non-porno sex scene which is hot in a strange way (kind of like how really fucked up porn still turns you on even though you tilt your head and squint to look at it) and I guess this movie is fantastic if you really feel like bumming around in a theatre for an hour and forty-five minutes and have a friend to talk through throughout the whole thing, because really, you could tune in at any given time and have the same amount of back-knowledge.

If all else fails and my deeply introspective and incredibly riveting review of this feature didn't satiate your needs, here's the trailer. And if that doesn't help, then get the fuck outta my face, because you're probably hopeless and have no business watching movies or reading about them.



E

Ridiculous In The Very Best Way

So Sarah Morrison moved in last Thursday. I knew it was going to be a big change from me just chilling around, doing nothing, by myself, watching 15 hours of TV a day and binge eating tortilla chips, but I don't think I realized it was going to be this fun.

When she pulled up in the parking space next to mine, I ran out to greet her. We said our "hey's" and she proceeded to start throwing clothing out of her truck. Just the essentials, though: a jacket, a pair of boots, some bras...then she started talking to me. Her words were literally coming out of her mouth at the rate of 30 words per second, at least. That's when I knew this was going to be really awesome.

I grabbed the groceries, she grabbed the clothes, and we went inside. I gave her a tour and she caught me up with everything that had been going on in New York. Most people have probably seen Sarah's videos on Missbehave and whatnot, but I don't think many people know that she literally goes a mile a minute when she talks. She's bouncing around and gesturing and being totally animated. So Friday we basically hung around the house all day on the internet. (Thank gawd there's someone else who can basically survive on internet and TV!)

After watching the most ridiculous episodes of Tyra to date, we decided we were hungry. Somehow the Cheesecake Factory was designated as the place to eat. We Googled the address and were on our way. After some driving, we found ourselves in the middle of nowhere. There were DEER CROSSING signs. (Didn't know deer lived in SoCal, btw)

It turns out we weren't heading to the Cheesecake Factory, we were going to their CORPORATE HEADQUARTERS. Apparently Google thought it would be funny to take us there. And it did, twice. I said that we should write a review of this online.

"We should write that it's the worst restaurant we've ever eaten at!"

We finally made it though, but were completely stuffed after eating the fried macaroni & cheese balls (which were heaven, btw), so I got my calamari and my cheesecake and she got her salad and her cake to go, which meant we had to interface with our scarily peppy waitress a million times. Her laugh was this really awful forced one and she kept trying to relate with us by making jokes and being all "hey girl hey." But I can't really knock the hustle.

So here I am, at 2:15 am on Saturday/Sunday, still trying to get through this slice of cheesecake (which I totally changed Sarah's mind about. She doesn't think it's terrible anymore. Well not the choco chip cookie dough flavored kind anyway.) and listening to the Shangri-Las with the TV on MUTE while Sarah's somewhere in downtown LA working the door at some afterhours party.

I kinda have a feeling there's just going to be one crazy story after another over here now. Oh, and in case you still didn't know (are you sure you have the internet?) I'm on Tumblr 24/7 and Sarah (of Lolita fame) is too. The other Sarah (of Morrison fame) has her own blog, and it's awesomly funny and a perfect distraction for the work I should/n't be doing for my journalism class.

And, well, that's it.

E