I Don't Want To Have To Die All Over Again.

2009 is tonight. WTF. I really cannot comprehend it. Another year, done, finito, terminado. I don't have my dress just yet (I'm stopping by HM this afternoon) but I do have the heels (black suede stilettos, totally hot and awesome).

Due to my lack of transportation (I have no car and I live three miles away from the bus station, which is like 45 min walking) and my bf/ex-bf's lack of transpo and my mom's lack of caring, and my lack of friends, I might be sitting in a pretty dress and droolworthy heels alone in my living room, watching a Twilight Zone marathon and guzzling grape soda until I fall into a sugar coma, or fall asleep, whichever comes first.

Or I'll be out all night, making good use of my deodarant by dancing and partying and eating my way to a bigger pants size. I might collapse from exahustion on some stranger's couch with a streamer in my hair and red plastic cup in my hand.

I'm not sure. But what I am sure about is what I'll do next year. I won't settle. I've always settled because I didn't think I could have more. I thought, this is pretty much it. But in the car tonight, my mom told me, "I wish you knew that you deserved more."

I do. I really fucking do. And in 2009, I'm gonna get it.

Happy New Year's Eve ya'll. Take this year out in style and welcome the next one right.

E

I'm Moving! And Other Interesting News!

That's right bitches! I'm relocating! But not to awesome super cool have fun Hollywood like I'd wanted, mostly because I'm too poor to. And I have no one to live with, so my poor ass has to make rent alone. But oh well. Instead I am moving to not fun super boring kinda hot mostly empty Calabasas, CA. Does that sound familiar? It should. The Kardashians live there too. So with my move it should up the population to a whopping eight.

I'll be shipping up and shipping out in mid January, and I couldn't be more excited to get away from this hellhole apt. Plus the new apt has a washer/dryer in it so no more of this washing clothes twice a month to save time and money. Booyah!

And in other interesting news, my bf sent me my old drafts and copies of White Rice! Which means we can be in business pretty soon with this stuff! V and I worked ourselves up into a frenzy talking about it. There're no plans for the mag yet, but a launch party with beer and crackers is in the works!

Also, I'm going back to Atlanta in two weeks so expect fun tales and some not so live blogging! AND...I JUST BOUGHT...

SPICE GIRLS GREATEST HITS!!!!

It's so awesome! I can't believe I a) got it used for only 7.99 and b) remember all the words almost a decade later! This is why school should focus more on what you do retain than what you don't. The outcome of the Crimean War? I dunno. The words to "Spice Up Your Life?" Got 'em!

Deuces,
Erika

I'm On Cocaine, Like It Was 1980

DUDEZ. In the course of about a week, my life took a full 180 turn. No, more like the illegal solid line crossing U-Turn you make at 1 am when no one else is on the road. That fast. Por serio. I quit my job, got MAD sick, got flight plans made to see my mom back in Atlanta in two weeks, I broke up with my boyfriend and then got back together, I FINALLY got my goddamn cable money, and I had a motherfucking epiphany.

And I met a boy. But more on that later.

I realized, ugh, finally, that I am in control of my own life. My boyfriend was sorta upset that I never seemed to hear him when he told me that, but I'm pretty sure it was a lesson I had to learn on my own. I was bogged down, drowning in the deep end of the pool because I'd chosen to do a cannonball into it instead of climbing down the little ladder, unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel, too possessed by depression and frustration to want to do anything except stumble through the day as effort and pain-lessly as possible.

But then I went to Sunset, like always, on Friday, (and it turns out I've been to Amoeba so much that random employees are starting to recognize me as I scramble between the sale VHS and the sale LP sections), and I went to 7-11. Then I got some hot dogs and sat in front of the CNN building watching Larry King on the big TV with the homeless people.

I felt calm. I felt like things could work out. I felt happy. (Granted, I was unaware that a 50.00 parking ticket was waiting for me three blocks away) I felt unstoppable and empowered and that's how I feel now.

When people are assholes to me (which they usually are), I repeat the words Don't Take It Personally over and over in my head. I feel like I can finally make decisions with my needs more so than others' in mind. I feel like it is possible to seperate yourself from your environment, and not allow it to bring you down or turn you into the bottomfeeders that dwell in it. I know what I want in a friend, and I'm committing myself to finding some. I feel like life can throw a shit ton at me and I can handle it. I'm ready. Come on 2oo9. You're my year.

And I've finally decided on a tattoo: never stop the hustle. And it's going on my forearm so whenever I get tired, or weary, or weak, I can look down at it and remember that this shit is for me. The things I do may benefit others, they may hurt others, they may change the whole goddamn world, but at the end of the day, the things I do are for me.

Ohai, and did I say something about a boy?

So I got suuuuuper sick on Tuesday (election) night. Shakes, body aches, light-headedness, nausea, the works. I went to the fancy schmancy hipster-ish Earth Bar that sits adjacent to the dry cleaners and got something called a Wellness Shot, which is basically a shot of lemon juice, cayenne pepper, and various oils. It tastes like hot shit. And not in the cool way. The dude serving it up talked to me for a bit about how I was feeling and said he hoped the shot worked. We even joked around a little bit. It was sort of freaky though, since that is exactly how I met my boyfriend. He was working in a hipster-ish juice place and I happened to meet him the day I quit/got fired from my job. So apparently bad events are opportunities to meet great people I guess.

Anyway, he happened to stop by tonight when I was at work to ask how things went down. Grossly but shamelessly (as is me), I told him how I basically threw up everything that was in me on Tuesday. He said, "Bummer." And then smiled. He's so sweetcute. Huh. I just realized I don't know his name. Oh but he doesn't know mine either. Ah well. Serendipity. So he said goodbye and then I watched him climb onto his motorcycle and drive off. That's when I knew:

HE SHOULD BE MY FRIEND.

Although I do instinctively want to fuck scruffy haired boys that have cute smiles, I really just want them to be my friends, to teach me how to skateboard and laugh when I burp when we're drinking 40 oz in a treehouse (note: build a treehouse), or assist in my judgment of other chicks at the mall, or stick up for me when someone says something mean. In all honesty, I seek a brother in a male friend (probably since I did have a half-brother, but never ever saw him, so basically didn't have one at all), but oh well. Dysfunction!

Um, plus he has a motorcycle. I die, I die, I die. The chance to ride on that thing would be bitching, espesh if we were going back to his place to play video games.

Now that would be the bomb.com.

Deuces,
Erika

"If I Were A Rapist, I Would Come Here"

So you guys are probably expecting a full rundown of the debauchery that was Hard Haunted Mansion.

Sadly, I wanted to carry as little with me as possible (for dancing purposes) and so all I had on me was money, keys, phone, and gum (which the bitch at the front confiscated from me! I was like, bitch, this ain't food, it's appetite suppressant!), but no camera. So I will be referencing events and occasions using Whoopi's pictures as they are awesomer than whatever I could have taken. Also of note is the fact that for about thirty or forty minutes, and then a few more fifteen minute stints, V and I were separated from one another. This is, of course, because of craze boys, packed dancefloors, people trains, and the need to get a drink of water. So compare stories, ogle at pictures, and pretend you were there. Don't worry, enough ecstasy and soon it'll happen.

Things started off um, glitchy. We basically drove past the freeway exit to get to the venue, then wound up in Carson City (which is crap-ay), and had to turn around. But then we did pick up McDonald's, and did a little In N Out v McDonald's. Which I won. In my mind.

We did finally get to the Expo Hall, an hour after doors opened, and then proceeded to stand in line for another hour and a half while we got pushed and shoved by people trains, aka, the most annoying invention ever. Basically, six or eight or twenty two people join hands and walk through a crowd. These goddamn trains are unbreakable, and like real ones, never seem to end. I got ambushed by a group of girls wearing cheetah dresses. And then Robin pushed me. And then we found Waldo!

So once we were inside, we tried to find Simian Mobile Disco, but stumbled onto some Special Guest DJ instead. This is where the first craze boy of the night comes in. He started talking to V, and eventually, I was moved father back into the crowd, sort of completely losing sight of them. But I was getting my Jesus groove on, so I didn't notice. Guest DJ dude basically killed it. In the middle of all the club music, near the end of the set, he switched it up and played "Simon Says (Get the Fuck Up)" by Pharoahe Monche (for all you old school hip-hoppers), which was bananas. For like two magical minutes, all the ravers got crunk. It was awesome. Oh, but then this dude pushed me and I was about to go "Hey, don't fucking push me" but then he threw up right next to me and I just had to leave the area.

Then it was DJ AM. He looked and sounded fantastic, even after all the awful shit that went down a few months ago. Dude has some kind of iron will. He killed it too, and I got asked to dance by a gay shirtless Native American wearing glowsticks and a headdress.

After DJ AM was Crystal Castles. But they blew. And I didn't really get to see them since I was stuck in the back of the crowd where the kids were either fucking or tripping balls. And there were these Asian girls in pink wigs and wedding dresses hopping around but I'd lump them into category two. But I did dance to "Crimewave." So you know, yeah.

So I met up with V after Crystal Castles. She'd successfully ditched craze boy No. 1 and we traveled over to the Justice stage.

Um, whoa. Justice smashed it. Por serio. The set started off sounding super sick and somehow V and I were separated once again. This is where craze boy No. 2 comes in. I swear I looked at him once, in glance form, and then he grabbed my hand and basically told me I was going to dance with him. For a split second I thought about it and then said "Okay." Then he basically proceeded to dirty dance with me, which was weird, but fun, and then he really got into it and I started looking around like "Hey, I'm being molested kinda" but, like I said, everyone was tripping balls and didn't care. This, kids, is why you should always bring a rape whistle with you. Pomona provides some excellent ones, I hear.

After awhile he said he had to go find his friend and once he left, I hightailed it to a different spot. Then Justice played "We Are Your Friends" as paper confetti rained down. It had to have been the longest DJ set ever though...it went for like two hours. Then some club kids started making out, a girl stepped on my foot with her hooker boot, and some more kids started doing more ecstasy. And then someone played "A-Punk," which we had a ton of fun dancing to. Both V and I agreed that we were too tired to see Them Jeans (although he's still on my MUST SEE list) and so we walked the seven-ish flights of stairs (felt more like a milli) up the parking deck to my car where we sat for a bit, then made fun of the pseudo hipsters.

Finally, we stumbled into my apt and collapsed in our respective sleeping areas while watching Spice World. Hopefully I can toss in a few more event pics when they're available, or at least link up to this fab set I've stumbled upon. While I'm shitting bricks scared to go back for another HARD Haunted Mansion, I think I will if the line-up's as good as this year. Which brings me to something else. I have found my Halloween costume for next year:

That's right: I'm going to be Madeline. Only her blue uniform-ed version. Because, um, a chance to wear a capelet and white finger gloves at my age doesn't come everyday.

See you guys next year!

Filth And Wisdom

Dudes, it's pretty debatable as to whether or not Filth and Wisdom or Let The Right One In is the best movie of the year. This one was pretty fucking good. In Filth and Wisdom, we're lead by Andre or "A.K.", played by Eugene Hutz, who's the frontman for Gogol Bordello. He basically turns good people bad, and helps the secretly sinful satiate themselves. It's an amazing movie with awesome music, a seriously inspiring story, rock n' roll badassery, sex slaves, filth, wisdom, Britney Spears, British people, handlebar mustaches, Ukranian, and Bourbon in the bathtub.

You guys, you need to see this movie like you need to be awesome. As in immediately, and with haste. Pretty much, now that I've seen this movie, I'm gonna live my life like I'm the coolest person ever and it's going out of style. Like everyone should.



Deuces,
Erika