Thursday, January 31, 2008

Randoms

-One thing I really love about East Los Angeles are the taco trucks. It's something I didn't discover until I moved back here in April...but I've been making up for lost time. There's something about eating an amazingly good taco (or three) in the middle of the night while leaning on the chain link fence in front of the taco truck, or sitting on a curb, that just feels so right to me. It's a pretty regular thing for one friend or another to yell "taco truck!" at some point during a night out. I hope my friends and I never grow out of that.

-I think I've found my drum teacher soul mate. He's a friend of a friend that I happened upon by chance. I had my first lesson with him on Tuesday night and it went swimmingly. He was really impressed with my drumming skillz, and doesn't think it'll be long before I'm rocking. I've taken one paid lesson before, and although I liked the teacher (who I found off Craigslist), I don't think he and I quite jelled. For example, Craigslist teacher sent me home with the sheet music for the Casa Nova (um, yeah) while Soul Mate Teacher sent me home with a totally awesome beat that I'll actually use at Hardstark's next practice.

-Hey! Let's play Marry/Screw/Kill!!!
To play, simply comment with three people, assign each a fate, and optionally explain why. (idea stolen from This Recording). Anonymous comments are always welcome.
As for mine?

Marry This one needs no explaining. I love this man with all my heart.

Screw Ok, this one needs explaining. Truth is, I couldn't think of anyone random I'd actually want to sleep with if given the chance. I know this is horrible and creepy and just plain wrong, but I've always found Fidel as a young man to be the hotness. What can I say? I'm a sucker for guys with beards...and those who overthrow governments.

KILL!!!
hate.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Getting Angry...Then Getting Not-As-Angry

How do I feel today??? Oh! Well thank you for asking, Internetz. Well, I guess I feel somewhere between
here:


and here:


I got into a screaming match with my roommate last night (who's thankfully moving out in two weeks), which made my head hurt. It also made me realize I hadn't yelled at anyone since I was a teenager, yelling at my mom. It felt really weird to get so angry at someone, and to finally express all the emotions I've been holding back for months. I stood my ground, though, and I'm proud of myself for that.

I left the situation before it escalated any more, and escaped to Masa where I sat at the bar and angrily relayed the situation over text messages to a couple trusted friends. I accidentally ordered a glass of white wine (when all I wanted in the world was a glass of red), and then I realized I had forgotten my camera batteries even though I went home for the specific reason of getting my camera to capture my Masa bar-sitting experience for you, my dear readers.

Things went smoothly after that, though. The sweet waiter who knows me by name was working, and was generous with compliments as well as his pouring of my glass of wine (and my second glass of red). The people-watching was more than even I, "she who loves being a voyeur", could have hoped for, and the book I started reading, this one:


was enthralling.

In all?, not a horrible night, despite my short burst of rage. And can I confess something to you? Promise not to tell anyone or judge me too much? During our fight, I did think to myself "I'm totally blogging this".

I'd love to hear your "worst roommate" stories, if you have any.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Randoms - Music History Edition

-When I was in 7th grade, my sister's boyfriend Will (a classic hippie-jock, who later died of a drug overdose), gave me a mixed cassette with these albums on it:


and the advice (although it was more of a stern warning) that I was never to listen to the radio again. I listened to that cassette to death. Although I'll probably never listen to a whole Led Zeppelin album again, I'll always appreciate Will giving me my first taste of non-top 40 music (even if he was a jerk who tried to make out with me when he was drunk).

-In 8th grade, my loner, computer-dork brother Asher, made me come into his room to listen to a tape he had just picked up. I still remember the feeling I got even in the first 20 seconds of hearing it...that cliche of being completely floored, and never viewing music in the same light again?...yeah, I got that feeling. It was this album:

and we listened to it nonstop for a month. Asher later introduced me to Pavement, Sonic Youth, and this album:
which makes me wish I had ignored the gutter punks I hung around with, and had stuck by his side (oh, the shows he's been to!)

-I went to my first show was when I was 13 years old at the now-defunct IceHouse in Fullerton, CA. It was to see my then-favorite band:
I was buzzing with excitement the entire time. Aside from the fact that I was about to see my favorite band play, I had never seen live music in this way before. The sweaty crowd, the opening bands, no parental supervision...it was almost too much for my little self to bear. The Vandals started playing, and my heart was racing. Then, two songs into their set, a couple skinheads (who were pretty prevalent in the early 90's Orange County), stabbed a guy. The show was immediately shut down, and not long after, the venue was, too. I heard a rumor that the skinheads stabbed the guy for wearing a Jimi Hendrix shirt, but I don't know if that's true.

-On my first day of high school, I wore ripped jean shorts, ripped black tights, 8-hole purple docs, a cat collar, and a shirt with this print on it:
Don't judge me, it was 1994.

-Midway through my freshman year of high school, an older goth kid named Christian moved into my neighborhood. He was new to our small, suburban town and he and I became friends. Before he had started dying his hair black, wearing long, black flowing dresses, and listening to Sisters of Mercy, Christian had been a punk. Wanting to purge himself of that image, he gave me all his old punk cassettes, which I was thrilled to inherit. I treasured these rickety old cassettes, and played them constantly. These bands still hold a special place in my heart:


Sunday, January 27, 2008

Rainy Day Musings

It's a lovely, stormy day in Los Angeles and I'm using it as an excuse to not leave the house. Instead, I'm cleaning my house like a mad-man...something that's long overdue. This weekend has been very good to me so far.

My all-time favorite rainy-day album is this one:
(Karate - The Bed Is In The Ocean)


Followed closely by this one:

(Mowtown Meets The Beatles)

What's your favorite rainy-day album?

Friday, January 25, 2008

Scenes From My Lunch Break

Downtown Los Angeles. Friday - 1:30 p.m.





Wednesday, January 23, 2008

My Insomnia...Let Me Show You It

My band played our first show last night...at one in the morning....in my bed...in my imagination. I pictured the whole thing...including what I was wearing, who was there, I even went through an entire song with me on drums. I got into bed at around 10:30, and didn't stop thinking until I eventually passed out around 2 a.m.

I've never been a good sleeper. I remember lying in bed as a child for hours...thinking about my day, the world, what I would be like as an adult, making up stories, etc. I thought this was totally normal until I was about 15 and told someone about it. I sometimes wonder what I would be like if I hadn't had trouble falling asleep my whole life...if I got a consistent 8 hours of sleep every night, instead of the sporadic 4-7 hours I actually get. Would I be smarter? funnier? taller?

I usually keep my insomnia to myself, as it's a difficult thing to explain to someone who's never experienced it without sounding over-dramatic. That's why I get so happy when people hit it right on the nose...like in this email a friend sent me the other day:

"I have a few insomniac rituals myself, normally consisting of trying to figure out how municipal systems work (water, sewage, trash, electricity wires, etc) without any relevant knowledge. Or I interview myself as if I'm sitting on those boring Sunday mid-day political talk shows"

I've done both of those things, btw.


Okay, now show me yours...what do you obsess about while you're trying to fall asleep? Or what late night activities do you keeps yourself occupied with when you can't fall asleep?

Monday, January 21, 2008

Results Of "My Weekend of Not Spending Any Money and Trying Not to Drive My Car Cause I Don't Even Have Money For Gas" weekend

Friday
+being picked up by two friends and bought a burrito and gellato = free & totally awesome (thanks Anh and Micah!)
+Punky Reggae at La Cita with a handful of really awesome friends = free
+pint of IPA from Shannon and half a bottle of NewCastle from Anh = free (thanks guys!)
+really awesome under-the-radar downtown bar that I don't want to name in fear that it'll become not under-the-radar and filled with
Tiny Titties readers = free
+pint of Stella = free (thanks Alie!)
+really fun after-party in a tiny house in Silver Lake with lots of funny people and a can of warm beer = free
+way too much fried, but really yummy food at Fred 62 = free (thanks Alie!)
+no hangover the next day!

Saturday
+lunch in Little Tokyo with dad = free + bonus $20 (thanks Dad!)
+photo shoot with my sister (amazing pictures to come) w/two kinds of Pocky and assorted other snacks = free
+walk around the reservoir w/Alie = free
-followed by possibly the best dinner ever at Vegan House = $29.32
+bike ride to Spaceland = fun and free
+on the list to see one of my current favorite bands, Oliver Future (seriously, these guys put on one hell of a show) = free + bonus Red Stripe (thanks Metromix!)
+one black & tan and one Red Stripe = free (thanks Alie)
-one Red Stripe for me and one vodka/soda for Alie = $11 plus tip
+fun after-party at a different house in Silver Lake, a can of beer and a couple swigs off a bottle of tequila (ugh) = free (thanks various people!)
-bad hangover the next day

Sunday (my dad didn't start till late afternoon)
+dinner and laundry at my mom's house = free
-gas in my car so I wouldn't die on the 10 freeway because I was too broke to put gas in my car = $20
(I wish I could write "'+Josh Fadem's Acid Reflux Hour = free", but I was way too tired to go out and ended up going to bed super early)

Tonight
-dinner with Shannon = undetermined
-Harold Night at UCB Theater = $5
+The Parson Redheads show at Spaceland = free (but probably really hard to get into/annoyingly crowded)

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Guest Blog Post - My Sister

Asking my big sister, Leah, to write a guest post for this blog brought about:
1 kind-of hurtful attempt that I turned down
1 over-the-phone argument that ended with me yelling "fucking cunt" after we hung up on each other
1 realization that I was being the control-freak, not her
1 attempt & accompanying photo that almost made me cry...this is it:

I think the first time I remember being left somewhere by my mom was with my sister. It was after a ballet class, after George and I had bought a soda at the little market next to the dance studio (back when Snapple used to make sodas in flavors like Cherry Lime Rickey and Raspberry Royale), and after we had been sitting on the curb in front of the market in our tights and leotards long enough to wonder if it would get dark out before she picked us up. It took a couple phone calls to finally wake her up and get her ass out the door. I must have been about 8 then and Georgia was maybe 6 or 7. I'm sure it wasn't the first time and it definitely wasn't the last. She had a real knack for falling asleep, our mom. I think Georgia gets that from her, while my insomnia definitely comes from our dad.

When we were little terrors to our parents, my mom would threaten to "call the indian reservation" to come take us away. As we got older, this was really just more of a joke and I remember one time handing her the phone and saying, "mom, call the indian reservation!" I'm not sure why it was so funny but I think what made it stand out to me was the ancient phone on which I assumed she had the number to the reservation on speed-dial. It was one of those big off-white desk phones with lots of buttons and an answering machine that used a cassette tape. It stood on a round table by her bedroom window, beneath a dusty and warmly lit lamp shade, on top of a thick sheet of glass under which family photos were pressed, rarely changing but accumulating nonetheless. This image is still sketched in my memory, mostly the yellowish light from the lamp, the complexity of the phone and the table by the window.

There's this quote I love from the movie "Mystery Train" where this girl asks her traveling companion "why do you only take pictures of the rooms we stay in and never what we see outside while we travel?" and he replies, "Those other things are in my memory. The hotel rooms and the airports are the things I'll forget." I just love that because its turning out to be those mundane details I wish I had pictures of to match the fuzzy still-frames in my memory. Sometimes it can be so hard to show other people what you see or how you see it, and why that's affected your life so much. Georgia and I both try to do it, in our separate ways - here's my attempt...


I had forgotten about most of that stuff, and I think I'm very lucky that there are two people (my brother and sister) that hold the memories of my childhood that I can't recall. It took a second for me to place that photo and process what it was...but when it dawned on me, I almost started crying. I could explain to you why it hit me so hard, and what the photo is of, but I think that would take some of it away.

-georgia

Friday, January 18, 2008

Randoms

-Ever wonder what dorks do when we're bored by an opening band at a show?...we get judgemental and pass notes! Below is the contents of the note passed between me, Micah and Anh last night at Spaceland.

me: this is bad!

micah: so boring

me: I think the drummer only knows one beat!

Anh: but I *heart* the Killers
(seriously, this band sounded like the Killers)

me: lolz!

micah: but they have a projection machine!

me: so edgy!

Anh: Oh noes!! I'm in yr bandz, playn one beat!

me: I'm blogging this, btw.*
(then I drew a little picture of a bird with "hardstark" written all pretty over it)

*"I'm blogging this" has become my new catch-phrase. I say even if I have no intention of blogging about whatever's happening...it's more of a "this is hilarious/creepy/sweet/annoying and I want to remember it" kinda thing...I want to get a shirt made.

-Last night kicked off, what I'm calling, "My Weekend of Not Spending Any Money and Trying Not to Drive My Car Cause I Don't Even Have Money For Gas" weekend. Considering I have a three day weekend, this is going to be tough. I got on "the list" for the show last night (I'm not bragging, my friend's band had a no-limit list...there were about 200 people on it) so that was free. Then the aforementioned Anh bought me a black-and-tan (thanks, Anh!). And we found a parking spot a block away, so "fuck you!" valet parking! Tonight we're going dancing at my favorite downtown bar, which happens to be free, and I'm not planning on drinking just to make life easier/hangover free. The rest of the weekend: yoga, hiking, reading, studying, practicing drums, band practice, taking photos w/ my sister, napping, eating leftovers.

-Things I Don't Like:
.having to wake up when it's still dark out.
.my weird dream about
Brian Posehn last night (it wasn't pervy weird, just really, really odd)
.the fact that I have an inability to be late, ever. I know this sounds like a good thing, but when you're constantly 15-30 minutes early everywhere you go, you end up waiting around a lot, plus your friends get annoyed cause they're never ready when you get there. If I make a conscience effort to be late to something, I'll end up arriving exactly on time.
.not having a bathtub
(although I can. not. take a bath in a tub unless it's a free-standing tub, and not one that's attached to a shower...ugh)
.that tray of pastries in the office kitchen that keeps yelling my name every time I walk by.
.V8.
.democrats and republicans.
.boring lists.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Georgia Responds To Anonymous Blogger

Alright...so obviously Anonymous Blogger*, who wrote the last blog entry, was just one opinion out of very many. And I hope for all us ladies sake that he's the extreme in most of his opinions (read Micah's comment to reassure yourself that some guys are romantics ((Micah is spoken for though, sorry)). Since it's my blog and I don't want people thinking those are my opinions too, I'm going to comment on a few things:

The Grooming and Make-up Issue
-I don't know where the hell guys got the idea that women dress themselves "for other women". It could be because women are more likely to notice all the trouble you went to, and compliment you on more specific things than the usual "you look hot" you'll get from a guy. But personally, I dress myself for myself...so I'll feel hot when I go out, which then translates into me being more confident and less of a socially anxious freak. Yes, I think I'm cute, and feeling cute feels really great. Do I feel cute when I wake up in the morning?...no, not in the least (oh the bedhead!!!). Do I feel cute after 45 minutes of primping?...fuck yes.

-I agree with the anonymous commenter that guys who are into girls who are totally shaved, you know, down there** are, well, really creepy. Finding out a guy I like is into that would probably be enough to make me change my mind about him. I think Anonymous Blogger meant that women should be well groomed, not completely shaved...but it's still annoying that guys seem to have no clue how much time and money it takes to be perfectly primped all the fucking time. If I miss my lip wax by a couple days (get over it, assholes...getting our lip waxed is like women farting...we all do it, even if most of us won't admit it) , or don't feel like giving myself razor burn by shaving my stupid armpits everyday...well fuck you! Again, I like to keep myself well groomed so I'll feel better about myself and more confident (even if no one sees it)...and if missing a day or two in the hair removal department is a deal breaker with a guy I'm dating, good riddance (especially considering most guys have questionable-at-best grooming habits themselves).

-As for make-up, it always makes me laugh when guys say they're into the "natural look" because, and back me up here ladies, that "no fuss" look takes just as long and just as many tools to achieve than the made-up look does. Personally, I don't feel dressed up and cute without a thin line of liquid liner above my eye. Everything else is I wear is pretty neutral...but I still use 8 pieces of make-up and 4 different tools to achieve that "neutral" look. I agree with Anonymous Blogger, and appreciate the news flash, that guys don't like when we wear red lipstick (I was also told recently, by a reliable source, that the "smoky eyed" thing looks terrible) When I was in my early 20's, yeah, I wore too much make-up. Like a lot of Anonymous Bloggers qualms (not picking stupid fights, wearing too much make-up, not coming right out and saying what we want/need) these things come with age and maturity.

Which brings me to...

Everything Else
-I think all girls like to think that "if he's right for me, none of this other crap matters",and I agree...to a point. Hell, I've dated and really liked a "laugh clapper", and I fucking HATE when people clap when they laugh! But I've also dated guys who did everything right...and bored the living hell out of me. I think the whole point of dating is not to find the freaking love of your life, but to see what works and what doesn't, so that when you do find someone who's worthwhile, you won't fuck it up by making a rookie mistake before they have a chance to find out what an effing gem you are. Let's face it, no matter how much a person is right for you and you're right for them, you both have to prove it to each other...and that means getting passed the "he opened the car door for me and showed up on time", and "she didn't talk about her ex all night and her eyebrows are perfectly plucked" so you can concentrate on the stuff that matters.

*For the record, Anonymous Blogger is a really nice guy, despite what you may think after reading his post...he's also a total fox, if that makes any difference.
**my dad reads this, btw.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

3 (of Many) Things That Women Do That Drive Men Nuts

I recently asked a male friend of mine to respond to my post, 3 Seemingly Obvious Ways to Make a Girl Happy, with a guest-post in order to get a man's perspective. I decided to post it in its entirety and not to censor it in any way, even though I don't totally agree on all his opinions (although they're still very entertaining). Okay, I'll shut up now.

3 (of Many) Things That Women Do That Drive Men Nuts

First let me preface by saying that I decided to post as anonymous, because I'm a pretty private person by nature, but more importantly, so I can be very, very honest, without having to worry about scrutiny from random strangers or professional associates.

A little primer on me: I'm a mid-twenties male, recently out of a long and very happy relationship that ended because our lives were taking us in different directions. My dating life started around the age of 18 and has been relatively steady ever since. I've dated the gamut of women in regards to ethnicity, personality, body type and have been involved in at least one abortion, one court case, two suicide attempts, three femi-nazi attacks and countless other interesting situations. But I'm more calm, collected and easy going now than I've ever been. I've always been told to learn from my mistakes, and I think I've adhered pretty well to that statement over the course of my life. What follows is not the ramblings of a bitter young man, they're the truths that all men who have dated more than a few girls, eventually come to understand, but can't really say most of the time.

First, I'd like to respond to Georgia's 3 Simple and Obvious things from a male point of view.
1) Being On Time. I somewhat agree here. I say you give a 15 minute grace period before you either are owed a call or text message saying that theyre running late or you are free to leave and go do something else. But only if the guy has told you that he will be there at a specific time. Unless I say "I'll be there at 8 o'clock." don't expect an exact time. If I give a vague time, it's because I'm not sure and don't want you pacing at 8:05, wondering where I am. If I give an exact time, it's because I'm sure. Don't confuse the two. The biggest thing women don't understand about men, is that when we talk, we say exactly what we mean and mean exactly what we say. There are no hidden meanings and we're not saying something other than what is coming out of our mouths. So if we say 8-ish, we mean any time that has an 8 in it, that includes 8:59. But if we say 8:30, then we mean it, and if we're not there and didn't give a heads up, you have every right to leave.

2) Act Interested In Her. I'm in full agreement here. Like Georgia, I'm fascinated with people's lives as well (which is what brought me to her wonderful blog!), so I really like to listen and ask questions and am usually very interested in what they are saying. But, BUT, it weirds me out a little bit when I'm told too much information, too soon. I had a girl tell me that her father made her jack him off in the shower, not more than twenty minutes after we met! For me personally, I like dating and relationships to play out like flowers: growing and blossoming slowly. I recently dated a girl who spilled her guts and then got very upset when I didn't give up all my secrets. I thought her stories were great, but for me, I just don't get too deep with someone unless I'm very comfortable with them. And that takes a while, normally months or quarters/halves of years.

3) Be A Gentleman. This is a tough one. I'm 50/50 on this. Some of these things I do, and not because I feel obligated, but as I got older, I find that I like doing them. In a weird way, even though I still feel like a 12 year-old on the inside, it makes me feel like a man. And if I know the girl appreciates it and it isn't expected of me, I enjoy it even more. It's when it is expected, nay, sometimes demanded that I get turned off to being chivalrous and won't do it solely out of spite.

(on to the things that drive men nuts)

1) This is only a small portion of what I call the "Going Overboard" series. This time I will discuss appropriate makeup usage and proper grooming habits.

Makeup: I've come to the realization that most women don't dress themselves up for men, they do it for other women. So when you put on all that concealer, blush, lipstick, eyeshadow, bronzer, etc, etc, etc. etc. we get nothing out of it but a good chuckle about who hired Bozo the Clown to appear that night. You could have more zits than a clerk at McDonalds, but if given the choice of having you cover it all up and having those dry, scaly, cracked mounds all over your face, or having those red bumps visible, I'd choose the red bumps any day. Hell, I'd even help you pop those suckers! Natural is always, ALWAYS better.

The fairer sex is a work of art. Each artwork is different and each has their own charm and way of being beautiful. But makeup takes all that away. Loads of makeup immediately screams these things: insecurity, high maintenance, trashy, and just generally undesirable. Most girls don't understand this for some reason. While you might think it makes you look matte and like a movie star, in person, it makes you look like a MAC counter girl(if you're an employee there, I apologize, but I couldn't be paid to be seen with you). One of my rules is that if I can tell she's wearing a lot of makeup, it's a pass, without even having to talk to her. And don't get me started on red lipstick. It looks awful! No one, and I mean, NO ONE looks good in red lipstick. Even my beloved Georgia can't pull it off, and that's saying something. I think the rule of two works best here: You get two, maaaybe three, make up items to wear before you start looking ridiculous.

Grooming: While I have encountered some things that might make your stomach turn, on a whole, most women are pretty good about this. I still think its necessary to discuss though. Girls, we like you as smooth and hairless as possible. If you have arm hair that's a shade darker than blonde and longer than an inch or two, you need to take care of it. If you have a happy trail, even if it's blonde, it's gross. If you have a peach fuzz mustache, regardless of how invisible you think it is, its visible, and it's very gross. If you think retro bush is coming back and youre hoping to lead the charge, that's grossest of all. A girl who takes care of herself and keeps herself groomed, is a very, very sexy girl. In my travels, I've found that white girls tend to be the biggest offenders here. This is the one the few areas where deviating from the "natural is beautiful" is not only ok, it is expected. I've found that latin, south american and most middle eastern girls really understand the importance of proper grooming and maintenance (they also know a thing or two about proper make up application). Take notes from them. Do yourselves and us a favor and shave or wax or get laser all that hair off. And don't use the argument that itll grow back thicker and darker, or that its not natural, because we don't care. If it's not taken care of, we'll simply move onto someone who will take care of it.

2) Expecting us to understand what you want or need, without having to be smacked over the head with it.

Like I said earlier about men being literal, this is where you ladies get into a lot of trouble. Unless you tell us you want something, or need something, or are feeling something, we probably, actually, I'll go a step further and say we definitely won't figure it out. I can't even count how many times I've had to say this to women: "I'm not a mind reader. I don't know what you're thinking. What you think is blatantly obvious, isn't. So either tell me, or stop getting mad at me." So either tell us what the problem is, or what you want, or don't. But keep reading on to the next point if you want to bottle it up and blow up at us down the road.

3) You fight with us over stupid shit, all the time.

Some of the arguments I've gotten into stem from points number 1 and number 2. The rest are about nothing worth fighting over. It's my opinion that 99.9% of fights are completely and utterly unnecessary. I was recently dating a girl who decided to fight with me over saying goodbye to someone she didn't think I should be saying goodbye to. Without saying another word, I grabbed my stuff, walked out the door and that was the last I saw of her. My rule is that you get 3 fights with me in a lifetime, provided we are officially boyfriend and girlfriend. So if you try and fight with me while we're just casually dating -forget it- I'm already driving away and pitying the next poor sucker who puts up with your bullshit before you even know I'm gone.

I've found that the people who say that fighting is a normal part of any relationship, are the people you don't want to be in a relationship with. My last girlfriend and I had exactly two fights over the course of our four years together and it was pure and absolute bliss. Contrast this with my first girlfriend at 19, who fought with me all the time and basically made my life a living hell. I promised myself when we broke up, that I would never put up with that ever again, and so far, I haven't and life has been grand. So please do all of us men a favor and don't fight with us... ever.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Things I Love

I love used bookstores...especially when the person who works there is an older gentleman with a mustache. Have I ever told you that, in my next life, I want to be a used-bookstore cat? The used bookstore I happened upon yesterday, while I was wandering around Downtown LA during my lunch break, didn't have a cat, but did have a mustached clerk. There were three parts of this bookstore that made my day:

Finding a book called "Shorthand with Champagne - The memoirs of a public stenographer in a Beverly Hills hotel"


Finding a used Raymond Carver book...which I've been looking for


Having the whole purchase wrapped up in brown construction paper, like a present.



It's the simple things in life that make me happy...like finding my octopus necklace, which I thought was long gone, tangled in the gold, decorative tree that once belonged to my grandmother this morning.


Oh, and this guy:

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Randoms - Links Edition

-One of the many reasons I was excited to move back to Los Angeles was because...wait for it...I missed the 99 Cent Only store. If you're not from LA (and a surprisingly large number of readers lately aren't), you have to go there next time you're in town. Seriously, fuck Hollywood Blvd. and Disneyland...the 99 Cent Only store is the place to be. Among the isles and isles of useless yet entertaining products (I bought Venus Fly Traps there once), are useful, and often times awesome, products (all for $.99!). Lately they've stepped up their game and have had some pretty classy products for sale (classy for poor folks, like me). I have an obsession with food blogs to begin with (like Smitten Kitchen, Cupcake Blog, and Third & Fairfax in which Santos reviews, among other restaurants, those at the Fairfax Farmers Market...which holds a special place in my heart since not only have I been going there since I was a baby, but my grandmother worked at a bakery stall there until she died) but The 99 Cent Chef puts the icing on the $.99 cake by posting recipes using ONLY items bought from the 99 Cent Store. Pretty awesome, no?

-I still don't understand why I have a fascination with "Mom Blogs". It's weird and a little embarrassing...but when/if I do become parent, I'll be well equipped to deal with all the random, unexpected things that pop up. I've also found my favorite face mask ever through a mom blog (four crushed aspirin, a tablespoon of honey, and a drop of water mixed together...seriously, your face will thank you...which, wouldn't it be creepy if you face actually thanked you??!) and I really don't think I would have ever started a blog of my own if it hadn't been for Amalah and her candid ways. Mom-101, Untangling Knots, and Amalahs' Advice Smackdown are a couple of my favorites.

-Gawker has become a good friend to me in the years I've spent at boring office jobs...this post (and accompanying video) about why Sesame Street was so wonderful when we were kids made me smile today.

-I Can Has Cheezburger? Do I need to say more? Do I need to tell you that my brother, sister and I bonded during lunch the other day by excitedly naming off our favorite captions, while my brother's fiance (I forgot to mention that my brother proposed to his long-time, lovely girlfriend, Yolanda!!!) looked on in horror and contemplated whether or not she really wanted to be legally bound to a family of cat-freaks. Do I really need to tell you that EVERYONE who's ever told me they love this website says "I like to go to it when I'm feeling down...it cheers me up."

-I want:
this necklace



from Fred Flare.com

this sheet set



from Delias.com


and, ever since I was a little kid, I've dreamt of leaving notes on food. My dream come true:



Sunday, January 6, 2008

3 Seemingly Obvious Ways To Make A Girl Happy

Having not dated since I was 21, I was more than a little nervous this past April when I jumped back into the "dating world". Although five years of gained maturity and experience has helped me tremendously when it comes to dating (less "why hasn't he called me?!" and more "I'm glad I found out he was a jerk early-on!"), it seems that the 27-32 year-old male population of East Los Angeles didn't have the same growth-spurt while I was away experiencing relationship bliss.

I've found myself in too-many-to-count conversations with my getting-dangerously-close-to-jaded girlfriends where things like "How could he not know???" and "All he would have to do is [blank] and I would be smitten!!!" are uttered at a frighteningly high rate...too often for it to be coincidence. So instead of dismissing all the guys that my friends and I have dated as jerks, I'm going to take the optimist route and assume that maybe your mothers didn't teach you right when it came to treating a girl like a lady...or in the very least with not making her consider lesbianism. Ladies, please feel free to comment with any of your own tips.

1. Be on time.
I'm putting this at #1 because it's something so glaringly obvious, yet most guys seem oblivious to. Dude, if you say you're going to pick her up at 8 p.m., be there at 7:55. When you're late you're sending the message that this girl isn't a priority and hanging out with her is just another thing on your to-do list. If you are going to be late, it had better be for a good reason (traffic doesn't cut it) and, for the love of god, call her and let her know (texting will suffice if you're going to be less than 15 minutes late).
Bonus - Ladies Tip: If you've been waiting for more than a half an hour with no phone call or text, leave. Seriously...I've done this twice in my life. A "got sick of waiting...I'll catch up with you later" text works. He'll either realize that you *gasp* have respect for yourself, or think you're a high maintenance bitch (in which case, good riddance).

2. Act interested in her (aka "...and what about you?")
I'm fascinated with people's life stories. History in general is a tremendously fascinating thing, and that includes personal history...but I've got a pretty good story myself, and it'd be nice if you knew mine as intimately as I know yours. On the first few dates with a guy, I'll take into account that he may be nervous if he's an over-talker. But after we've hung out a few times, if I haven't told you my "I got pantsed in 5th grade story" or you don't know I'm Jewish, but I know that your mom has the 2nd largest collection of decorative plates in the US, or that your first pet was a Oriental Fire-Belly Toad that your brother accidentally stepped on...then we have a problem.

3. Be a gentleman, dammit!
The reason being chivalrous (opening the car door for her, doing that little "half-stand" thing when she returns to the table, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, etc.) works is because a surprisingly small amount of guys actually do this stuff. Trust me, chicks fucking dig it. Even though we could probably drink you under the table, rattle the walls with our belches when we're with our girlfriends, and curse like a sailor, we like to be treated like delicate flowers.
Bonus: When a guy leads me somewhere (to the bar, to the table at a restaurant, through a door that he's holding open) by gently placing his hand on my mid/lower back...I fucking melt.

Friday, January 4, 2008

Things That Aren't Depressing Me

I realized that two out of three of my last blog posts have been kinda depressing. So, to lighten the mood a little...good things:

-Besides learning an awesome new beat on the drums, I got to sing at band practice last night, into a microphone and everything! I never thought I'd enjoy something like that as I have possibly the worst singing voice ever (I've done karaoke once in my life and it was to Bust A Move with two of my friends...and I had been drinking), but I guess I sounded alright. Oh, I sang about craving McNuggets (true) and eating frosting from the tub for dinner (no comment).

-After practice we all caved to my PMS cravings and split 40 McNuggets, french fries, and 3 sundaes (and a bottle or two of wine). I eat McDonald's maybe twice a year, and it's usually after having been craving it for weeks. My normal diet is pretty healthy, so I don't feel guilty about having a gluttonous night. My breakfast of 1/2 a blueberry bran muffin and a yogurt is making it up for my binge last night, right, right???

-We watched this totally fucked up movie called Sunshine while we gorged. I love Sci Fi...especially when the whole movie takes place on a space ship. Anyway, it's a good, creepy movie...perfect for late night feet-sitting.

-Tonight is "First Fridays" at the Natural History Museum. I'm more looking forward to the “Conscious Minds and The Minds of Others" lecture than standing around, packed like sardines with a bunch of sweaty kids watching Sea Wolf...although even that wouldn't be terrible.

-The first-ever Georgia Is Your Friend Contest is in the making. It involves winning a date with a certain beautiful, talented and funny redheaded friend of mine. I'm looking forward to seeing all the creeps that come out of the wood works for this one (I'm looking at YOU, Tiny Titties readers!...jk, you know I love you guys!...especially when you stay 100 yards away from me, as dictated in the restraining order).

-Can't stop reading this blog: Diary of Why. This girl must think I'm stalking her, but her dating and exboyfriend stories are terribly entertaining...I can't get enough.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

The Last Person Who Loved Me

It really shouldn't affect me anymore. I've moved on with my life...started a new life, really...but he still has the ability to make me cry. C was in town over the weekend. We had plans to go to dinner on Thursday evening, but he didn't leave San Francisco in time to make it, and by then I had made plans for later in the night. I felt a shred of guilt...if I hadn't made plans, I could have just waited the extra hour and still taken him to the Mexican restaurant I knew he would love. Instead, I made it seem like his fault we weren't meeting up that night. It was easy, too. Throughout our five year relationship, his chronic lateness had always been a factor. I'm sure I took it too personally, and read into it too much...but those are things you don't notice until it's all over.

Instead, he picked me up on Saturday afternoon. We went to a sub-par Mexican restaurant and drank margaritas. The conversation was nice, and I listed to him talk about mortgages for about an hour, all the while thinking "If I had just paid attention to his rantings during our relationship, I could have learned something." I have to give the guy credit; he's insanely intelligent.

When he took me home, the conversation turned the way it always does when we hang out now, "you always did this...you never did this...didn't appreciate me..." Then he grabbed my phone, taunting me the way he always did, and pretended to read my texts. It sometimes takes me by surprise, how much our relationship is like a big brother/little sister game. I grabbed at my phone, angry at this point and feeling insulted that, after all I had proven (I could take my life into my own hands and be independent) he still treated me like a child. I broke down at this point, crying uncontrollably. It wasn't just him, and I told him that as he sat on the edge of my bed and apologized, I've been stressed out lately and it had all come crashing in.

I forced him to leave, even though I was still crying and I know how much it hurts him to see me cry. I wanted to be alone, to take a nap. He did a "leave behind" though, so he came back the next day before driving home to SF. We talked for a bit...I apologized for my outburst. I walked him out and we hugged for an extended period. This time I cried because I was sad, because I missed what he and I had had, because I'm scared I'll never have that again, because I've dated a bunch of jerks since I moved back to LA, meanwhile there's a guy in San Francisco who still loves me.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Beginning of the Year

My New Years Eve was great, thanks for asking. I spent it eating mini cupcakes and mixing alcohol, surrounded by a handful of close friends. It turns out that the problem with mixing cheap red wine, expensive champagne, and pear vodka is that you think it's a good idea to try to talk your bandmates into playing a song for all your friends...who knew? And your bandmates have been drinking too so, although they are hesitant at first, agree to play. I'm sure you know how this ends...not quite in tears, but somewhere near it. It really didn't go that badly though...and it taught me that I can't play drums for shite when I've been drinking.

Happy New Year to all you lovely people. I hope 2008 treats you like a lady.
And, in case you were wondering...yes, I was kissed at midnight.

Here's this:



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