bodily organs should not be used as tissues, but i get the feeling that is what you want me to do!

above you is the trailer for the new-ish (in america, at least) movie, paris, which i saw last friday and nearly died from. you know how the english thought of love, actually and then america was like, "man, i gotta get all up in that action!" and made something sort of resembling love, actually and i forget the title of it and NO I WON'T look it up because you didn't come here for the acute accuracy of or hard-hitting facts. i know you came here because i promised you candy, and you will get it, don't worry, but for now just hear me out over here.

so anyway america wanted a love, actually but little did they know france was so far ahead of them, they couldn't even see them. because paris is basically france's love, actually (which i am going to stop saying now because my quota has been filled, i can collect my check, and go spend it on a few slices of pizza and a large rootbeer to cry into), only it's a little less cheesy (as if france's version of "cheesy" would be at all like the velveeta tinted nonsense we've come to know in america. velveeta tinted, i tell you!) and way more sad.

should i set up the plot for you? now, don't look so wary, i'll be gentle. take your hands off your eyes. stop being a baby.

so basically you have this guy, pierre, who was a great dancer a few years back, in the chorus lines and stuff, whatever france's broadway is. then he gets sick and the doctors diagnose with him a fatal heart condition and that is very *sobsob* sad because it means his body will weaken and then no more dancing! send in the clowns! cake's out in the rain! etc etc! muy depressing.

he tells his sister elise, played by juliette binoche (who is basically like a golden calf to whose feet i fall and whisper "i'm not worthy, i'm not worthy" in a totally wayne and garth-esque tone) is like, "dude, i'm gonna help you." he's like, "girrrrrrl please don't"and she's like, "nuh uh, mon frere. deeds is DONE." so she moves in and stays with him and she's working her job and being the mother of three kids (she's divorced from her husband) and having a little crushy-crush on the guy that works at the market (because who wouldn't love a guy who could hook you up with free lychees and say the lettuce heads looked ugly like you when you turned down their offer for a date?! WHO WOULDN'T?!)

pierre lives across the street from laetitia, who's in school studying french art and history and who's also BANGIN' (if i may be so crass, because f'reals, homegirl has it going on) and he develops a crush on her but she's basically a lemon tart and has a boyfriend while she's leading on her professor roland, who is looking so crazy in love, beyonce style and is verily crushed when he finds out miss cheater is, well, cheating on him. even after he dances to little richard in front of her. she clearly doesn't understand the balls it takes to do that, but whatever! she can go run off with the annoying good looking guy with the polo sweater! that is what you do!

there are also a ton of other players in this that have their own intertwining stories and basically the whole thing is so, so, so, so good and no dramatic musical numbers occur, which is great for me because musicals make me break out in a rash like i just got drunk and slept with poison ivy. plus the soundtrack is beautiful. lots of soft, classical jams that make you tear up and weep into your hot popcorn, which adds a ton of small hissing, popping noises to the wonderful music. you're like giving it a backup track. YOU'RE WELCOME, MUSIC.

and the whole thing is so lovely and this tale of a sick, kind man in love with life and the world and love is so heartfelt and touching that by the end of it, i was basically soaking in my own salty tears and sadness and hope. it was a weird combination and i had to wash all my clothes when it was over. fucking french movies! it basically ripped out my heart and used it for its paint by numbers kit. you know what movie? i hope the purplish blue looks good on the paper. because it looked great in my heart!

E

home is where the booze is

holy balls dudes and dudettes! i've been slacking hardcore over here. and for that i apologize. the internet is serious business and deserves to be treated with respect. the internet's a regular aretha franklin. MOVING ON, it turns out this past monday, august 22nd marks my one year anniversary of the day i rolled into this glittery, smog filled bat cave called LA. and it's pretty exciting, because it means i'm not dead and have survived this screwed up snowglobe-like city. which is a yay! moment. small accomplishments, people. i won't even get into the myriad of too-cool-por-school things i've gotten to do since moving here because why bother and i'm lazy.

so that's about it. it's quite exciting, and i will probably hang around this place for three or four more years and get into shit loads of stupid trouble, wear shitty clothes, and remain steadfast in my mission to convince everyone in los angeles that the cosby show is one of the best shows ever. CONSTANT VIGILANCE you guys. but who knows what kind of wacky things i'll end up doing around here? this place is like a carnival with lots of roads but no places to get a proper funnel cake (the world's most elusive outdoor event dessert).

so, hey, let's put some TI on and grab a few slices of pie, because it's about time we start having fun! (oh man i hope no one notices that i had no idea how to end this)

E

why am i not dead yet?!

so. another year. one more step on the staircase of death. one more floor in the elevator of my own demise. just kidding! i'm actually excited to be one year older! it means i'm doing something right because i'm still alive! in your face everybody who wishes i was dead. (probably no one, but maybe everyone, and you've got to put it in someone's face, right? correct.) but you guys aren't here for the self-reflection and the navel gazing, you're here for the CAKE!

well you can't have any! because this is the internet. and you can't eat anything off it. YET.

until the future becomes a reality, let's take a look back on all that's happened to me last year. LOAD UP THE SLIDESHOW MICKEY. settle in.

since my last birthday, i've moved to LA, worked at a dry cleaner's, been to fashion parties, met internet famous LA'ers, met a cool gal named V, gotten blackout drunk in front of adults and children (and then somehow managed to vomit on my bangs? how does that happen?), started blogging for missbehave, watched the inevitable and sadly unstoppable undoing of missbehave, became friends/lived with sarah morrison and olivia allin (whom i love), met my awesome new best friend jasmine, gotten to see tim and eric live and it's always sunny in philadelphia presents: the nightman cometh, eaten truckloads of tacos, gotten to see amazing indie movies, gone to the coolest shows (seriously i never thought i would ever get to see animal collective, white rabbits, asobi seksu, and camera obscura live. never ever ever), started writing for buzzine, and pretty much gotten to live it up. i honestly never thought my life would be this amazing and that it would all come so fast, but that's LA for you, i guess.

(sidenote: shoutout to everyone that's held out their hand to me and help me cross the proverbial street this year: sarah, meghan, lillian, sam, and sydney jane. if it wasn't for all of you i maybe would be dead. if not dead on the outside i'd be dead on the inside. wahhh, the emo! not really, but you guys have all helped me way more than you know. THEY DON'T LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVE YOU.)

LA is pretty cool and while i probably can't see myself living here for the rest of my life, i do see myself settling down here for quite a while. maybe i'll get a coldwater flat in that cool little space between echo park and downtown. maybe probably! i could be maybe dead by then!

SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! i'm not dead and that's cool! i hopefully won't be dead for a bit so good morning, and in case i don't see you, good afternoon, and goodnight.

E

(ps: the above is a picture of my mom's dog wearing my glasses. i'm a photographer. it's deep. hire me.)

i've made a grave mistake

above these words is the trailer for irene in time, the movie i ACCIDENTALLY INADVERTENTLY saw today as a result of me walking into the wrong theatre at the movies. it was the worst thing i've ever accidentally done on a tuesday ever, in my whole life. except for the accident i almost got into about 45 min prior. FORGET THE MINOR DETAILS. LET'S MAKE A CASE!

okay so basically this movie is about irene who's sad because her dad got in a boat and sailed away to boat heaven (OR SO THEY HAVE US THINK!!!) when she was little and now she can't date because she's trying to find a man like her dad. okay god/world. i didn't have a dad growing up. is this cosmic synergy trying to tell me something? fine. i'm in the theatre and i'm stuck because my desired feature started twenty minutes ago. I'M LISTENING. TELL ME YOUR STORY.

so irene thinks she has to follow dating rules and whatnot to get a guy. she has tons of books. she reads them in the pool. they don't seem to work for her. CUT TO scene of her with "current" boyfriend. they're in her room and she's eating food off his plate and chewing loudly and is generally annoying. he leaves. SURPRISE! but it's not because she eats like a cow chewing gum and is loud, it's because HE'S not right for her. the rules, you guys! the rules ain't working! oh noeeessss!

also she's a singer. she sings these awful songs that were originally written by the lady who did the soundtrack. they sound like the end result of setting a jukebox from 1983 on super easy listening. one song is about finding love in starbucks. can't have that kind of crosspromotion, irene! i see all too easily what you did there! (sidenote: there's also a scene where she's sitting next to a table with a pink can of Tab on it. nostaligic crosspromotion! for the record i no longer drink Tab. i have graduated to just getting wasted every night. i am an adult and these are my words!)

so where were we? ahhh yes. so she meets this guy. well, "meets" is a loose term because he is her producer. he is also 'roided out of his mind and sorta looks like he could benchpress me or whatever. he scares me. and i want him to cut his hair and stop looking at everyone like they're his next meal. but irene likes him and that's what's important. i'm here for her. all the best. RIGHT. she doesn't know she lurves him yet though, so she keeps dating.

she meets a guy who's nice but weird and says stupid one-liner type things like, "we will all laugh at gilded butterflies." not really. he is not that smart. not really either. she hates him and dumps him and then it's back to the bathrobe and the wine and the solitaire. THE SINGLE GIRL'S LIFE FORREAL Y'ALL.

this just in! her old ex is back in LA and wants to go to dinner with her. COOL! but he wants to double date. oh boy, what'll she do now? easy. get her lesbian friend to do her a solid! because that's what lesbians are here for! to go on dates with your ex's friends.

so on that date she and her ex go to the bar and talk, leaving the lesbian and dude sitting there. the dude decides she is who he was waiting for (of course!) and asks her out. this is maybe 20 minutes deep into the "date." she says, "you know i am into women. sorry." he kisses her and then she says, "no sir. i will not take your offer for which i would glady date a woman tomorrow." something like that. back to irene. her ex, who hasn't seen her for seis years wants to marry her. MOVIE OVER! not. because irene's a traditionalist and they haven't even seen each other for twenty minutes yet for god's sake! so she says no. sad panda.

CUT TO the roundtable of women in their over-thirties hanging around talking about their daddies. "my daddy was DA BEST. FOR SERIOUS. HE COULD HAVE BEAT YOUR DAD HARD IN A CORPORATE SOFTBALL GAME"..."my daddy was never around. i hate him"..."my dad was so aloof! ALOOOOOOOOOF! 'tis a word i learned today on the internet. it describes my dad perfectly!" it's so sad! it's like drivin' and cryin' but they're sitting in plastic white lawn chairs wearing bathrobes! it's so weird and uncomfy but i can't look away because a part of me wants to walk out of the theatre!

i almost did. but damnit, i paid my six dollars and bought a fucking drink! so i stayed.

so then they're all eating lunchdinner outside. everyone's there. all friends, all family. irene talks to her mom about her dad and her mom's like, "men suck. do it for yourself." irene is sadfaced. CUT TO the lesbian and her mom. she's finally coming out. her mom is shockedface. she's like, "how long have you known?" (because when the stork makes you gay he mails you a confirmation letter and then you KNOW you're gay) and the daughter's all like, "well i used to have crushes on girls but i dated guys and then you and dad made me all angsty and i dated girls." because lesbianism and homosexuality is a form of teenage rebellion! you guys, this is it! we've cracked the code. let's infiltrate the high schools already.

CUT TO one scene where irene and lesbian friend are hanging out with straight and lesbian friends. lesbian #1 is like, "irene kiss her!" lesbian #2 is all smiles. they kiss. because homosexuality is fun! it can be a big fun experiment! get more wine! let's try again! they keep going with other people. it's like girl's night out but no one's standing on the bar and they are in the living room. sadface.

also creepy producer guy is 'bout it, 'bout it with irene. they hang out and kiss and things are greeeat. so she's found a guy. mazeltov! she doesn't need those books anymore. so they have a book burning party because irene is secretly a communist. and she needs to make sure no one else gets those books ever. NO ONE. no one except the fire god, because she must appease him so that he doesn't rip her eyes out while she sleeps. so she sets those pages aflame! a part of me dies inside when this happens. it is still dead.

NOW they're going to move out of their huge villa (villa coola). irene lives in the guesthouse. she is like thirtybillion and living in the guesthouse. she's like will smith and carlton but not as cool because jazzy jeff never comes over. lord knows how many times she invites him. he, too, is ALOOOOOOF! anyway, moving party. enter irene's BRITISH MOTHER WEARING A PINK CHENILLE THROW! because she is old and british. and irene is american! hmmmmm....

in her bedroom, irene is just farting around and finds this hidden secret hatbox that she's somehow missed seeing for fifteen some-odd years. in it are all these pictures. and a leather jacket, so she can look badass. oh, it isn't so she can look badass? pointless, then! the pictures are of this woman who is oldish and brunette and thin looking. irene must find her.

and find her she does. at the catalina jazz club, where all your dreams come true. she introduces herself and blahblahblah it turns out her father knew that lady. she gives her a russian doll set. irene's like, "cool, but what is this?" she's like, "for srs dood? you don't know what this is?" she's like, "okay byeeeee." END SCENE.

then we dig rull rull deep and it turns out the singer lady is irene's real mom. this still doesn't explain why irene is a REDHEAD. i don't believe she's related to anyone. nope. so everyone's sadfaced but then irene's like, "it's whatever i don't care who my mom is. i gotta be finding my papa!" so she opens the russian dolls. the last two are taped. say what (karoake)? it's because there's a message in them. the msg says, go to the sea or whatever! so she does!

and she begins to walk into the ocean and then all of a sudden i'm like, "is she gonna go straight into the ocean? is she gonna die?" i was on the fucking edge of my seat with excitement you people. but she did not die. she found her father who had just been sailin' around for like twenty years. ain't no thang.

OH ALSO the producer guy is married and with child. he left irene and broke the news to her at the airport. because he is an asshole and he's got to get home to benchpress his wife and child.

i hated that movie.

E

bup bup bup!

(that shirt is only 33.00! it used to be 110.00 dudes!)

i can see you all are clearly busy moving about your daily lives and whatnot but if i could have your attention for ONE SECOND please? thank you!

karmaloop is having yet another MAYJAHH sale you guys. por serio. 50-85% off. it's a little bit ridiculous, actually. RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME. i was just trolling it, y'know adding shit i can't afford to buy to my cart so i could look at it a little longer before the BILLSBILLSBILLS (can you pay my?) called me away and my bank account shut down my dreams.

(it's actually a bit depressing because the glasses i paid 16.00 for - on sale - are now 4.75 on sale. relativity, people, relativity.)

but you guys look like you have some money! head over to k-loop and shop your streetwear loving hearts out. but do it soon because this sale only lasts for another two days. so, till wednesday. i mean it guys, DO IT. and if you haven't gotten this princess of the posse top by now (um, what?!), you can get it on the mad cheap.

now you have your mission. by reading this post in its entirety, you have chosen to accept it. go forth, be free, and buy america!

E

in which TV is clearly out to destroy my heart and soul.

(photo via mtv.com or whatevskis)

you guys can i be real for a second?

i love TV. like i fucking love it. if there was a way for an electronic device/digital cable stream and a woman to be joined together in holy matrimony, i would've swam into the pacific and climbed onto that boat a long time ago.

but why does everything i love have to hurt me in return? WHY MUST YOU DO THIS? THEY DON'T LOVE YOU LIKE I LOVE YOU!

this is probs my fault (that's okay TV...it was never you...it was always me, i know it) because i threw myself into the big masochistic pit of fire also known as watching MTV so in turn i suppose i brought this on myself. i MADE myself watch college life and the phone. i did this.

basically college life is this dipshit - sorry, innovative and compelling, TV show wherein some college freshmen are followed by cameras at ALL times and they talk and sob and wear school hoodies and apparently all attend some kind of prison style college deep in madison, WI. basically i can't stand it because i live(d) it. not to mention MTV just ripped ITSELF off. i wasn't in college back then, but i distinctly remember loving (despite the almost tangible shitty qualities those shows emitted from my TV screen) sorority life and fraternity life. so good going there MTV. you beat yourself to your own original concept like five years ago.

let me synopsize this fucksenserey for you. there are a handful of kids involved but you only need to know about two:

alex: she is 19. she is a bonerkill. this girl is like one walking livejournal entry and all the entry tags are FML. she's like "waaaaah waaaah boys won't put their penises in my vagina! i have no hope with dudes for the rest of my life! the boy i like didn't text me after we watched one tree hill together waaaahhhh even after i put an 'i like you. check yes or no' note in his locker!!! wahhh!!!" okay i know colleges don't have lockers but you see where i am going with this. essentially she is what i am slowly but surely becoming.

no one said i was proud of it you guys. no one.

and then you have kevin. he is everyone's bro-dude. if you give a mouse a cookie, he'll like ask you for milk or something (don't really remember) but if you give kevin a few hours, he'll make you a party. like a mysterious and magical little keebler elf whose medium is hard liquor and red plastic cups. he is that guy that you will want to punch repeatedly in the face sober, but who's meaty arm you will more than gladly cling to when blackout drunk. (you will probably say "more, more, more! and tell me that one story of how you once sucker punched your seven year old neighbor when he took your frisbee! holy shit did you just pull that red cup from behind my ear?! i love you because you're magic! pour me more sam adams!) i imagine the following things go through his head on an hourly basis:

"tits! i hate math! this baseball caps is too tight! tits! ass! i love college! asher roth! i love drinking! i love women! miller lite! beer pong! man, i really appreciate how hard my parents worked so that i could go to school despite the poor grades i achieved in high...whoops! TITS! ASS! DRINKINGSMOKINGSEXCOLLEGE!"

college life is an epic fail of a television show. you guys at MTV want drama? you should have let me film my dorm experience. bitches were threatning to pee on my washcloths and get their sisters to beat me up. because of loofahs and thermostats!!!! there was some diddy approved dramz going down dudes. did i get a show? no. does that leave me feeling bitter? no... does that make me not want to watch this one? YESYESYES.

i was also going to talk about the phone (ay dios mio) but because i have spent so much time ranting about this fuckery, i will just leave it with this equation i have created (in my opinion) perfectly summarizing what you've got here:

mtv's the phone: phonebooth + eagle eye + M.I. - colin farrell - being interesting + money + teenagers.

there's some cloverfield style filming and mildly (like, mild salsa mild) intense and dramz music thrown in for good measure.

TV WE CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS. GET IT TOGETHER. IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE. WE CAN WORK IT OUT. but the sadfaced kids, fleshbeards, gripping reality television, and all other no-noes must GO.

E

my momz is bring the dramz

so it is OH-FISH-IYAL. my mom is en route to california, where she will live permanently and be annoying and get all in my face about every little thing imaginable and drive me even more batshit craze than i already am. i WISH i was one of those people who have awesomesauce relationships with their mothers and can phone them up and talk about anything and maybe enjoy a glass of wine together and laugh and share and hold hands and buttercups buttercups buttercups. but i don't.

i'm not entirely dreading having my mom here (since she lived in LA way back in the day but also forever so she can help me out when and if i get lost on the mean streets and she can take care of me on days when i feel sick instead of me just dragging all my blankets and pillows in front of the television and drinking sprite until i throw up and feel better) but i really liked that she was on the other end of the country. i could do whatever whenever however and there wasn't a single thing she could do about it if she wanted to. this whole "over the phone" parenting method was really working out for me.

this whole situation is grrrrr inducing at times and i won't lie, sometimes i seriously debate over whether i should have stayed in atlanta. yeah, i really do. but whatever. it's too late to do anything except grab my board and ride this wave out. plus t-minus one month (por serio hoping) until i'm out the valley and in the big city. this move is going to happen and my moms coming is a big motivator.

so basically now i'm consolidating my shit to make this move is smooth, easy, and QUICKQUICKQUICK as possible and my life is in such a topsy turvy state right now that i don't even know where to start.

E